#and its looking like we might not even get a christmas vacation. which means i only get 2 months in the summer off.

[erizee]

breakdown time

[ppangjae]

SUN&MOON | Jaehyun

SUMMARY. Asking Jeong Jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week Christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. One can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right? 

GENRE. enemies to lovers!au | fake dating!au | tooth-rotting fluff | angst

WORD COUNT. 14.6k+ words (someone stop me)

playlist. sun and moon by sam kim | sun&moon by nct 127 | D (half moon) by dean

author’s note. i’ve always wondered how ‘ordinary people’ would be if the situation was switched and yn needed someone to be their fake boyfriend. but you know that i love making things messy and so i decided to add the enemies to lovers trope. have fun reading and no, you don’t need to read ordinary people before this fic! merry christmas? merry chrysler? merry crimmus?

disclaimer. you do not need to read ordinary people before reading this fic! this fic is made in a different universe and time, so consider this fic separate from ordinary people!

warnings. swearing!

taglist: @yasmini24 @jungjxxhyun @softieus @justineasian @chantellsievert @jaehyunnie77 @princessaecha @je0ngjaehyun @joyfuljaehyun @fluffyjaes @icelandicboo @chalcopyright @ethaeriyeol​ @svchengss​ @yourmagnanimousholiness​ @127-jaehyun​ @theunluckylistenermusician​ @mangotexts​ @daydreamerblues​ 

Even when we’re not looking at the same sky, we stay together like the SUN&MOON.

“If I’m the dumb of dumb and dumber, then that means you’re the dumber.”

It’s unfortunate that you couldn’t agree any more with your best friend, Jungwoo, who’s setting up the projector in his living room. The projector turns on after twenty straight minutes of Jungwoo just smacking the top of it, as if it would do anything. Projected onto the off-white walls of his apartment is a PowerPoint presentation and to your surprise, it’s not a presentation about how you’re the dumber one out of the two of you. Instead, it’s a PowerPoint presentation about—

“Five reasons why Jeong Jaehyun should be the fake boyfriend you’ll bring home for Christmas.”

“Turn that shit off before I rip your hair off your scalp—”

“Listen, hear me out.” Jungwoo cuts you off, pressing the button on his clicker to move on to the next presentation slide. The next slide shows a very dorky picture of Jaehyun sticking two fingers up his nostrils and you assume that it’s some sort of blackmail that Jungwoo uses. “Reason number one, he is a handsome and smooth motherfucker and I’m sure your parents will be very impressed.”

“Jungwoo, I hope you know that no matter what, I will not ask Jaehyun to pretend to be my boyfriend—”

“Reason number two,” Jungwoo ignores you, moving on to the next presentation slide. The slide shows a picture of all the boys in your circle of friends. Johnny, Sicheng, Jungwoo, Mark, and Jaehyun. Jungwoo points at each one of them. “Johnny is in a relationship, which means that he’s not an option. Sicheng is also in a relationship and he’s planning on proposing on Christmas Eve, not only is he booked and busy this Christmas, but he’s also not an option.”

“Jungwoo, you’re not dating anyone. You can pretend to be my boyfriend instead.” You suggest and Jungwoo clicks his tongue, shaking his head in reply. “What? Why not?”

“Do you think your parents would believe that I, Kim Jungwoo, so happens to be not only your childhood best friend but your boyfriend too?” Your face turns blank. He has a point. He smirks. “Exactly. That’s what I thought. Now, Mark has a crush on your younger sister, so I don’t think it would be ideal for him to be your fake boyfriend when he should be shooting his shot on your sister this Christmas.”

“He needs my approval first—”

“That’s not the point.” Jungwoo cuts you off, pointing the laser of his clicker to the wall, specifically at Jaehyun’s face. He circles the laser around Jaehyun’s face and begins to grin. “The point is that Jaehyun is your only option. Jaehyun’s single, he’s good looking, and it wouldn’t be suspicious to your parents.”

“Reason number three, Yeri and Haechan would definitely approve of Jaehyun.” Jungwoo explains. 

“What makes you so sure about that?”

“Because Jaehyun is easily likeable, it would be odd if Yeri and Haechan didn’t like him.” He reasons.

“Do I look convinced?” You ask. 

Jungwoo stares at you. He blinks before shrugging his shoulders. “I say you kind of do. Now, reason number four!”

The next slide shows a poorly-cropped photo of you and Jaehyun standing next to each other. You let out a snort, biting your lip and covering your mouth to stop yourself from bursting out into laughter. You’re appreciative of Jungwoo’s effort, but—

“Reason number four, you both surprisingly look good together. I think you guys suit each other, if I were to be quite honest. The only problem here is that you both hate each other with a lively passion.” Jungwoo shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t give me that look, Y/N—”

“Okay, fine!” You raise up your hands in defeat. Jungwoo grins. “Does it look like I actually have a choice? I swear I have the worst luck—”

“You do—”

“Everyone of you is taken and my parents would have to be extremely gullible if you pretended to be my boyfriend. That leaves me no one but Jaehyun, who’s unfortunately single and the only one that seems more convincing.” You sigh with defeat. You fall back against Jungwoo’s leather couch, kicking the air out of frustration and stress. “That’s problem number one of two. Problem number two is—”

“So, you’re actually going to ask him—”

“—how the fuck am I going to ask Jeong Jaehyun to be my fake boyfriend for one week?”

“Are you on crack or something?”

“Stop laughing at me, you fucker.” 

Jaehyun’s playing with his chain bracelet, a smug grin plastered on his face. Oh, how you wish you could wipe that grin off his face. Fine, as much as you hate to admit it, Jaehyun does look good. He looks good in his oversized hoodie with his hair gelled back and a few of its strands framing his slim face. But that’s not the point, the point is is that—

“No.” 

“No?” You repeat his answer. He raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Wait, did you just say no?”

He nods his head, clasping his hands together and smirks. “Why? Did you want me to say yes?”

You let out a scoff of disbelief. “Does it look like I want to do this? With you, specifically?”

“I mean,” he shrugs his shoulders. “You could’ve just simply said that you had a budding crush on me just like how you did when we were fifteen instead of going through the long route and asking me to be your fake boyfriend for your one-week holiday vacation with your family.”

“Why, you little—”

“Calm yourselves before you start clawing each other���s faces, holy shit.” Jungwoo arrives at the table booth with a tray of your orders. Jungwoo slides into the seat next to you, handing the both of you your burgers, fries, and drinks. You and Jaehyun are having an intense glaring competition. “Stop eye-fucking each other it’s making me feel uncomfortable.”

“We’re not.” The both of you say in unison. “Shut up.”

“You irritate me.” You roll your eyes, opening the wrapper of your burger and taking one big bite. Jaehyun looks at you with disgust, mumbling a few curses underneath his breath before taking his first bite. “And for the record, I do not have a budding crush on you. What happened when we were fifteen was just a joke. You just so happen to be the single one out of the guys and I just so happen to forget telling my parents that Taehyung and I broke up—”

“And you just so happen to think that I would easily say yes?” Jaehyun dips a french fry into ketchup. Before shoving the french fry into his mouth, he sticks his tongue out at you. “Try harder, Y/N. I’m not going to do it.”

“Fine,” you snap. “It’s not like I wanted you to do it anyways.”

“But you still tried—”

“Fuck this shit and fuck you,” you grumble, nudging Jungwoo to make room for you to leave. Jungwoo looks at you then back at Jaehyun. You’re too pissed off to notice Jungwoo give Jaehyun a warning look. “I’m out. I’ll just ask someone else, maybe Yukhei or Yuta. I’m sure one of them would be nice and kind enough to help me out for just one goddamn week.”

Jaehyun’s presence is enough to ruin your day. This is a living example. You huff out a breath, realizing that you have to ask for a takeout bag for your burger and fries. Cursing underneath your breath, you begin to head to the front cashier counter to ask for a—

“What’s in it for me, then?”

You stop in your tracks. You have your back facing the two of them. You slowly turn around. “If I give you something in return, would you do it?”

Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders. “It depends on what you’re giving me.”

You frown. “I’ll do your laundry for a year—”

“Y/N will get you that vintage LP turntable that you wanted.” Jungwoo cuts you off. You’re about to protest but Jungwoo gives you a look that silences you. “Even the records you wanted.” (**vintage marantz 6200 turntable)

It’s terrifying how you could see a fire igniting in Jaehyun’s eyes. The corners of his lips slowly move up to reach his ears. He slowly places his burger down. 

“Fine, I’ll do it. When do we start pretending?”

“I told you to pack one luggage, not three.”

Jungwoo looks at you through the rearview mirror. It’s been five minutes since the three of you hit the road and an argument has already begun to ensue. Jaehyun, however, seems unfazed by it. In fact, he’s too distracted by the beautiful snowflakes falling from the sky and falling onto the ground to form a fluffy blanket. Just by the argument that’s about to start in the back of the car, Jungwoo’s worried that the one-week plan might fall through the cracks.

“You told me to pack a week’s worth of clothes.” Jaehyun tears his gaze away from the view outside of the window to look at you. To his surprise, you’re already looking at him. With your pierced gaze, it catches him off guard, but he plays it off by letting out a scoff. 

“And a week’s worth of clothes just so happens to fit in not one but three luggages?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Well,” Jungwoo cuts into the argument, his darting between the two of you through his rearview mirror. He gulps nervously. “If you count the winter coat, the shoes, and everything else, one luggage actually isn’t enough—”

“Don’t take his side.” You whine. You fold your arms. “Well then, how come I managed to fit a week’s worth of clothes into one luggage?”

Jaehyun eyes you up and down before gesturing your clothes. “Maybe it’s because you have a poor sense of style—”

“I do not!” You exclaim. He purses his lips into a tight line, looking away from you. You let out a frustrating sigh. “God, I can’t believe I’m spending a week with you.”

“If I were you, I’d watch it with the snarky remarks.” Jaehyun warns you. “The moment I get ticked off, I can simply just tell your parents the truth.”

You look at him with wide eyes. You feel threatened. “Oh, you would not do that.”

“Oh, yes I could and I would.” Jaehyun squints his eyes at you. 

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

From the rearview mirror, Jungwoo watches you pout in defeat. You’re looking away from Jaehyun, turning your body towards the opposite direction. Jungwoo, however, catches Jaehyun spare you a gaze that lasts longer than it should before his lips form into a soft smile. 

“Jaehyun, one point. Y/N, zero points.”

“Shut the fuck up and focus on the road, Jungwoo.”

There’s a sole reason as to why you and Jaehyun have bad blood. Ridiculous as it sounds, Jaehyun has been categorized as three different things throughout your entire life. Childhood friend, crush, and enemy. There was a time where you and Jaehyun were childhood friends. You’d always be attached at the hip. Whatever was yours was his and vice versa. But things began to take a sharp turn when you started liking him.

You started liking Jaehyun at the innocent age of fifteen. It was the year where you and the group would go on overnight camp trips. Jaehyun had just come back from studying in America for a year. You remember seeing Jaehyun stepping out of his mother’s Mercedes-Benz in nothing but a loose basketball t-shirt and jean shorts and thinking, wow, I think I’m in love with him. Things haven’t been the same since.

The switch up of him being the love of your life to your enemy happened on the last night of your camping trip. The group had decided to get a dip in the lake while you and Jaehyun stayed back to set up the bonfire. It was your only chance to tell him, you remember convincing yourself. You planned it out carefully, where you would confess to him and if he returned the same feelings, you’d date. But if he didn’t feel the same way, you both had the brutal option to shove memories of that year’s camping trip into the back of your mind, not to be dug up again. It was stupid of you to think that the former would happen instead of the latter.

Ever since then, just the thought of you crushing on Jaehyun made your blood boil. You wish it never happened. You wish you never saw Jaehyun in a different light. You wish your heart never skipped a beat too many when you liked Jaehyun. 

You wish you never liked him.

“We’re here, kids.”

It takes a harsh shove for you to wake up. Your eyes shoot open and your hands ball up into fists as you prepare to fight someone. Fight or flight response. As your eyes meet Jaehyun, he glares at you. Jungwoo watches the both of you from the driver’s seat. 

“Your head’s incredibly heavy, did you know that?” Jaehyun complains after pushing your head off of his shoulder, getting out of the car. You scoff, grumbling underneath your breath as you get out of the car. The door slams shut. Jungwoo smiles at the cute interaction.

As you step out of the car, you feel yourself shiver from the chilly breeze that hits against your cheeks. Your instinct is to warm up your cheeks with your knitted gloves. Jaehyun’s pulling out your things from the trunk. It’s not long until you hear a loud screech a couple of metres away. You’re closing the trunk as Jaehyun sets down the last luggage and someone jumps over you, almost making you stumble over. You let out a yelp, looking over your shoulder to see Yeri on your back. You let out a scream.

“You said you weren’t coming home for Christmas! What are you doing here?” You exclaim, pulling your younger sister into a tight embrace. Yeri giggles, wrapping her arms around you as she snuggles into your warmth. 

“Of course, it was a lie. I wanted to surprise you and Taehyung—you’re not Taehyung.” She pulls away from the hug and looks up at Jaehyun. She looks at the both of you with confusion. She points at him. “You’re not Taehyung. Y/N, are you sure you brought the right guy home for Christmas?”

You and Jaehyun share a look. Get into your act, Jaehyun reminds himself and he immediately straightens his posture. He extends his hand out to Yeri and Yeri raises an eyebrow. “Hi, I’m Jaehyun. We’ve met before you studied abroad but I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend—”

“Boyfriend?” Yeri blurts out. She looks at you in shock. “Since when did you drop Taehyung so fast?”

You let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of your neck. Somehow, it’s difficult to come up with an answer but before you could at least utter out a word—

“It’s getting quite cold outside, shall we head in?” Jaehyun suggests, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re too bothered by your thoughts of your ex-boyfriend to even notice that Jaehyun’s doing skinship with you. “Babe?”

Babe? You snap out of it. You look up at him. “R-Right, it’s getting cold. Let’s head inside.”

Yeri stares at the two of you and grins. “Well, I’m happy you dropped Taehyung. I never liked him for you anyway. It seems like Jaehyun’s a better suit for you, but I’ll have to find that out myself. Welcome home, Y/N. And Jaehyun, make yourself at home.”

Jaehyun’s not sure why Yeri’s words send a shiver down his spine. As your younger sister is the first one to head back into the cabin, the both of you glance at each other. You push Jaehyun’s arm off your shoulder, scrunching your nose in disgust, and pulling out the handle of your luggage. “Let’s head inside, it’s freezing.”

“Y/N, if we’re going to pretend like we’re dating, at least make it look real.” Jaehyun mutters.

“Sorry, I was just caught off guard about—” You begin before stopping yourself. You bite your lip. “Let’s just head inside, we wouldn’t want everyone waiting for us at the dinner table, especially my parents.”

Jaehyun purses his lips into a line. About what? He turns around to look at Jungwoo. Jungwoo’s too intimidated by what had just gone down and he’s not sure if he could handle it any longer. “Thanks for the ride, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo looks at Jaehyun nervously. “Make sure you guys kick ass with this fake relationship because from what had just happened now, I’m not sure if the act will last long.”

“Oh, we will.” Jaehyun shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better.”

The moment your parents looked at Jaehyun from across the dining table, you just knew. Your mom is the first to set her spoon and fork down onto the table, tilting her head in confusion before looking at you with a slightly questioning gaze. Mustering up a smile, you shrug your shoulders, glancing at Jaehyun who’s sitting next to you on your right. Jaehyun, however, has been great with putting up the act. He has the fakest smile spread across his lips and his body is tensed up. You’re too busy trying to stop yourself from breaking out into a teasing smile, but you fail at doing so. Jaehyun places his hand on top of yours, gently rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of his thumb. Your smile grows wider when you notice how moist and sweaty Jaehyun’s hands are.

He’s nervous, you think to yourself. Maybe you could get used to this, where Jaehyun is a nervous mess in front of your parents who look intimidating—but are definitely far from it. 

Your dad’s reaction comes a bit later than your mom’s. He’s looking up from his plate and he chokes on his food when his eyes land on Jaehyun. “Wait, you’re not Taehyung.”

Jaehyun chuckles nervously, nodding his head. He sucks in a breath. “I’m Jaehyun, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’m not sure if you remember me but Y/N and I went to the same high school and—”

“Ah! That’s right! I knew you looked familiar.” Your mom exclaims. Jaehyun suddenly feels nervous under your mom’s gaze and he sets his spoon and fork down to engage in the conversation. Your mom glances at you. “Y/N, sweetie, I think you need some explaining to do. I wish you told me sooner that you and Taehyung weren’t dating anymore because I assumed you were still together and I even bought him a Christmas present—”

“We broke up, mom.” You bite your lip, shoving a spoonful of soup into your mouth. You’re avoiding your mom’s gaze, but from your periphery, you can see Jaehyun looking at you. “We broke up three months ago. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I could still give Taehyung your present—”

“Oh, no, you don’t need to, sweetheart.” Your mother shakes her head. She looks at Jaehyun apologetically. “I’m sorry, Jaehyun, I probably made things a bit awkward.”

Jaehyun tears his gaze away from you. He smiles. “No worries.”

Yeri clears her throat. “Jaehyun, are you worried that you might be my sister’s rebound—”

“Yeri.” You glare at her as you hiss. “Please—”

Your words are cut short when Jaehyun squeezes your hand. You glance at him and his face softens. He looks at your sister. “I’m not worried at all. Sure, we’ve been dating for only two months. Sure, Y/N had just gotten out of a relationship. Sure, her wounds are still fresh. But asking your sister to give me a chance was my choice, and just the fact that your sister gave me a chance tells me that she’s ready to move on.”

For a brief moment, Jaehyun looks like he’s being sincere about his words. It feels so real, almost like he’s telling the truth. If you were someone else, you’d definitely believe him. He’s being too creative with this act, and you definitely have to reward him some brownie points for the effort. 

You don’t notice the small smile forming on your lips. Jaehyun’s eyes meet yours and he mirrors your smile. “Right, Y/N?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Right.”

Your dad lets out a light-hearted chuckle. “I think you both suit each other. I see a difference in my daughter’s aura, Jaehyun, it must be because of you. When Taehyung spent the Christmas holidays with us, Y/N looked completely different.”

“Is that a good sign?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Yes.” Your dad flashes him a warm smile. “Kudos to you, it means you’re doing a perfect job.”

Jaehyun’s smile falters.

It means you’re doing a perfect job.

A perfect job of acting. This isn’t real. 

The first day of the holiday vacation is a trip to the Christmas Market. Every year, you and your family spend the first day of the holiday vacation at the Christmas Market for a variety of things. It could be an opportunity to pick out gifts for your Secret Santa, it could be an opportunity where your parents will visit the grocery shop to get groceries for the Christmas Eve dinner, or it could simply be an opportunity to shop around for yourself and have fun. 

It’s also the day where your cousin Haechan and his family will move into the cabin for the week. The cabin is always busy and full of joy when both your family and Haechan’s family are there. It’s what makes the holiday vacation much more special. It’s sort of like Midas touch.

“Please remember that we parked right in front of the Gingerbread House because you know that I’ll forget.” Your dad commands the moment all of you hop out of the SUV.

Jaehyun looks at the hustle and bustle of the Christmas Market. He’s amused and fascinated by all the dimly-lit lights scattered all over the market. To set the Christmas mood, it’s lightly snowing and all Jaehyun could smell is hot chocolate from the cafe a couple of metres away. “This is…”

“Amazing?” You look up at him.

He nods his head. “Yeah… amazing.”

As all of you reach the entrance gates of the Christmas Market, everyone begins to split ways, leaving you and Jaehyun behind. You remove your hand from Jaehyun’s. “Well, I’m going to go shop around for my Secret Santa. You can go and do whatever you want for the meantime, unless you want to join me—”

“Let me join you—”

“Ew.” You scrunch up your nose in disgust. “Fine, do whatever you want, I guess.”

Jaehyun reaches down to grab your hand and you raise an eyebrow. He shrugs his shoulders. “You never know, we might bump into them in the shops and they’ll wonder why we’re not holding hands.”

“Do we always have to hold hands?” You question. “I’m sure holding hands is not a mandatory requirement for couples. Besides, your hands are disgustingly sweaty.”

Jaehyun lets go of your hand and looks at it. “Are they?”

You snort. “Let’s go before they start wondering why we’re just standing here doing nothing.”

He fails to notice that you’re already walking away from him because he’s too distracted by his ‘sweaty’ hands. He grumbles angrily underneath his breath, ready to protest only to see that you’re no longer standing in front of him. He looks up to see you already a couple of metres away. He wipes his hands on the sides of his jeans and begins to jog up to you.

“Wait! Hold my hand! Y/N! They’re not sweaty anymore!”

You hear him calling out to you and it only makes you smile and let out a bubbly giggle.

“Are you my Secret Santa?”

Yeri jumps at your voice, completely startled. You burst out into laughter. She frowns at you and folds her arms. You and Jaehyun had so happened to bump into Yeri at the jewelry shop. It’s been at least an hour and a half since you started shopping for your Secret Santa and you still haven’t gotten anything. You figured that a stop at the jewelry shop will help you out. 

“I’m not,” Yeri mumbles. “I got Haechan this year.”

“And how do I know that you’re not lying?”

The jeweler comes back to the counter with a beautiful Louis Vuitton necklace. You lean closer to Yeri to get a better look of the necklace. Yeri turns the LV pendant around to reveal an engraved ‘H’ on the back. You let out a sad sigh. “I told you. I’m Haechan’s Secret Santa this year. Believe me now?”

“I’m kind of disappointed that you’re not my Secret Santa this year. You always go out with the gifts and I’d be more than grateful to receive a beautiful necklace like this.” You sigh again. “It’s alright. You still need to give me a birthday gift anyways.”

“Your birthday is in March.” Yeri snorts. 

“Anyways, I’ll continue shopping. Don’t make your pockets hurt too much, alright? You got textbooks to buy when you go back to university once the Christmas break is over.”

She groans. “Don’t even remind me.”

You laugh. Before you’re walking away, a familiar necklace catches your eye. You look down at the glass counter to stare at the necklace. It’s the Louis Vuitton silver lockit that you’ve always wanted to buy. Your smile is replaced with a frown. You shrug off your sad thoughts before moving on to another glass cabinet of chain bracelets.

Jaehyun observes you as you walk away. He walks closer to the counter, looking down at the necklace you were just looking at. Yeri nudges him and he glances at her.

“You know, Y/N’s always wanted that necklace, but I’m not sure if she wants it anymore.” Yeri whispers quietly. “She told Taehyung that the moment she saw that necklace, she dreamt of having it. They were  six years into their relationship when Y/N found out that the woman Taehyung was seeing behind her back was given the exact same necklace.”

“Taehyung cheated—” Jaehyun stops himself. He looks over his shoulder to see you standing on the other side of the room, talking to the jeweler about a few sets of chain bracelets. You don’t look as happy as you were a while ago. He frowns, looking back down at the necklace. 

“I’m sure Y/N never told you about that,” Yeri mumbles. “That’s because I’m the only person that knows. But since you seem to be a good guy for my sister, I figured it would be safe to tell you.”

“Why do you trust me so much?” Jaehyun asks.

Yeri shrugs her shoulders. “I guess it’s because my sister would never replace the man she loved so much with someone else this fast. But she did, and that could only mean that you must be very special to her.”

But I’m not. I’m not special. Jaehyun thinks to himself. He purses his lips into a tight line. “I see. Thank you for putting so much trust in me. You barely even know me.”

“No problem.” She beams at him. “Anyways, you’re being a bit too obvious.”

“Me? Being a bit too obvious? About what?”

“About being Y/N’s Secret Santa.”

“Well… shit.”

The cabin becomes more lively the moment Haechan and his family enters. Haechan immediately rushes to his usual room which is right across from Yeri’s. The two of them are like two peas in a pod, either always bickering over the smallest things or having late-night conversations in the cabin’s basement. There’s no in between. They’re truly cousins. 

“Who just ran past?” Jaehyun asks you. You’re busy stirring up two cups of hot chocolate. One for you and the other for— “Hey, thanks for the hot chocolate—”

“Haechan, get here before your hot chocolate gets cold!” You yell, turning around and leaving Jaehyun in the kitchen to meet Haechan halfway. 

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here—who the flipping heck are you?” Jaehyun looks past your shoulder to see who he assumes is your cousin Haechan. Haechan gently grabs his mug of hot chocolate from you and takes a quick sip. 

“Me?” Jaehyun points to himself.

“No, the dude standing behind you—of course, I’m talking to you.” Haechan quirks an eyebrow. Well, what a sassy cousin. No wonder you’re both related, Jaehyun thinks to himself. “Hi, I’m Haechan, Y/N’s cousin. You probably already know that.”

“I’m Jaehyun,” he introduces himself. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“What?” Haechan blurts out. “I thought—weren’t you dating—I am completely and utterly confused. You have some explaining to do, Y/N. You dropped Taehyung pretty fast. I am also Taehyung’s Secret Santa, now how the fuck am I going to give him his present?”

“Exactly what Yeri said, no wonder the both of you get along so well.” You roll your eyes. “About Taehyung’s gift, just leave it with me and I’ll give it to him for you—”

Haechan squints his eyes at the two of you with suspicion. “I’m getting the vibe that you guys aren’t really dating but are just putting up an act—”

“We’re not.” You both cut him off in unison.

“Huh, well,” Haechan grins. “It’s just surprising to see that you’ve moved on from a long relationship with Taehyung that fast. You replaced him really quickly. I wonder why.”

Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Things just happen. It was nice meeting you, Haechan.”

“I guess this Christmas holiday will be spicier and messier than I thought.” Haechan smirks. “It was nice meeting you too, Jaehyun.”

Haechan saw right through the two of you and that alone sends shivers down your spine. Just as he’s about to head back to his room with his hot chocolate, you reach out for the ends of his sleeve, tugging him back. He looks at you questioningly.

“Yes, Y/N, my beloved cousin?”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You beg.

“Y/N—” Jaehyun’s eyes widen.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan exclaims before Jaehyun reaches out to cover his mouth with his hand. Haechan glares at Jaehyun, licking his hand. Jaehyun yelps, wiping his hand against the side of his pants with a look of disgust. 

“Haechan, please don’t tell mom, dad, or Yeri. You are the only one that knows about this. If you tell them then we’re—”

“Screwed? Yeah, I know.” Haechan chuckles. He pats your shoulder. “No worries. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Promise?” Jaehyun squints his eyes at him.

Haechan glances at him. “I promise. But, what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll get you the PS5—”

“I’ll get you those speakers you wanted—”

“PS5?” Haechan’s eyes widen like saucers. 

You bite your lip, looking at Jaehyun. You mumble, “you’re making the biggest mistake right now, Jaehyun—”

“Deal. Your not-so-real boyfriend will be getting me a PS5 in exchange for keeping your not-so-fake secret.” Haechan puts his hands up as if he’s going to preach. “I give you both the family’s blessing.”

You playfully punch him in the stomach, and he bends over in response. He groans. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Go unpack your things before Jaehyun changes his mind.”

Haechan obliges to your order, leaving the both of you in the kitchen before looking over his shoulder. His eyes meet Jaehyun’s and he smiles. “Welcome to the family, Jaehyun. I think I’m starting to like you already. Not for my cousin, but you get it.”

“How the fuck am I going to get your cousin a PS5?”

It’s the second day of your Christmas holiday, and you find yourself lying against the snow. It snowed a good twenty centimetres overnight and Haechan dragged you out of bed just to make snow angels before it gets shovelled away. Fortunately enough, it’s still snowing and the pretty sight of snowflakes falling from the sky brings a bright smile to your face. Haechan lets out a happy sigh.

“So, why did you do it?”

You look to your right. Haechan’s not looking back at you, he’s looking up at the sky. You raise an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your fake relationship.” Haechan clarifies, finally looking at you. “Why did you do it? I mean, you could’ve simply told your parents that you and Taehyung broke up instead of bringing Jaehyun into this mess.”

You give yourself some time to come up with an explanation because surprisingly, you didn’t have one. Well, you did have one, but now that Haechan’s confronting you about it, you suddenly think your reasoning is stupid. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I just didn’t want to disappoint my parents.”

“You didn’t want to disappoint your parents?” Haechan asks.

You hum in reply. “Taehyung and I dated for six years. That’s a long time. My parents adored him. When we broke up, I was devastated. Six years of dating down the drain. I guess I just didn’t want my parents to see me look like a mess over him.”

“And so you asked Jaehyun to pretend to be your boyfriend for the annual Christmas holiday?” You nod your head. Haechan purses his lips into a tight line and nods his head understandingly. “I get where you’re coming from.”

“I figured it would be better for my parents to know that although Taehyung and I broke up, there’s still someone out there who stepped in to take care of me.” You add with much hesitation. “It would be better for them to know that than seeing how horrible I am because of the breakup and how I haven’t been taking care of myself properly.” 

“Well, you should give your fake boyfriend some credit for putting in so much effort to pull such an act in front of your parents.” Haechan says. “For a week too.”

Haechan’s right. No matter how much you hate Jaehyun, you must consider the fact that Jaehyun decided to help you out. He could’ve simply neglected you—like he always does—and made you embarrass yourself in front of your parents. He could’ve just flat out not help you at all. But he did. 

Somehow, it makes you wonder. Why? If it’s so simple for Jaehyun to not help you at all, why did he end up helping you anyway? There must be a catch, aside from the vintage turntable you have to get him in return. There’s definitely a deeper reason as to why Jaehyun’s doing this for you.

“You guys are up really early.”

You and Haechan sit up from the snow to see Jaehyun standing at the door. He has a hot, steaming cup of coffee and it looks like he had just gotten out of bed. Haechan waves him over. “Finish your coffee and join us out here!”

“I think I’ll pass—”

“It snowed?!” Jaehyun’s cut off by your younger sister, Yeri, who pushes past him. She steps out onto the porch and extends her arms out to catch snowflakes in her bare hands. She smiles. “Don’t move! I’m putting on my jacket and I’ll join you.”

She hurriedly rushes inside, zooming past Jaehyun. Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. His gaze is focused on you. You’re bursting out into laughter after throwing a snowball at Haechan’s face. He’s in the midst of rolling up a snowball only to get hit in the face by another one. “Hey!”

You stick your tongue out. “You snooze, you lose.”

Jaehyun smiles. “On second thought, I think I’ll join.”

And so he does. He sets his cup of coffee down and lets it run cold. In a couple of minutes, he finds himself lying next to you on the snow. He’s looking up at the sky, snowflakes getting caught in his long eyelashes. You sit up, looking down at him. You fall into his line of sight and he can’t help but notice how pretty you look. Your lips are itching to smile.

“You have long eyelashes,” you point out. 

He nods his head. “You noticed.”

“And,” you mumble, getting lost underneath his gaze. “Your ears are really red.”

“Huh? No, they’re not—”

“They are—”

“They’re not—”

“They are—oof!”

You gasp, immediately wiping snow off your face. Jaehyun bursts out into a cackle. “I can’t believe you didn’t expect that to happen!”

You frown. “It was bound to. You’re going to pay for this!”

Haechan and Yeri watch you and Jaehyun chase each other out on the front lawn that’s covered in snow. You’re both chasing each other with snowballs, throwing them at each other when the opportunity is there. Yeri lets out a happy sigh.

“They look happy together, huh?” Yeri asks.

Haechan nods. “They do. Your sister looks different from last Christmas.”

“Yeah, you could tell her and Taehyung weren’t doing so great.” Yeri agrees. “I kind of knew they were going to break up eventually. Taehyung looked like he had already fallen out of love and was just trying to find the right opportunity to end things with her. But now, she looks happy. Happier, I mean.”

“With him?” Haechan questions.

“She looks happier with him,” Yeri smiles proudly. “She also looks like she’s been set free.”

Haechan purses his lips into a tight line, letting out a sigh that Yeri can’t tell if it was a happy or sad sigh. He falls back against the snow, muttering to himself. “Oh boy, this isn’t going to end well.”

“Did you say something?”

“Me? No, nothing at all.”

The fireplace is the only thing keeping you warm in the surprisingly cold living room. You’re sitting right in front of it with a fresh mug of hot chocolate for good measure. Everyone’s sound asleep in their rooms, but you somehow can’t seem to fall asleep. Placing your mug onto the coffee stand, you pull your knees to your chest and you rest your chin on top of your knees. 

“You’re still awake?”

You look over your shoulder to spot Jaehyun standing at the doorway. He looks like he had just woken up from his deep slumber. He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trudges his way towards you. You look up at him, nodding your head. “I can’t sleep.”

“You know, I’m sure your parents are wondering why we’re sleeping in different rooms.” Jaehyun suddenly brings up. 

You scoff. “I am not sleeping in the same bed with you—”

“We don’t have to. I’ll just take the couch and you can sleep on the bed.” Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders, pointing at your mug of hot chocolate. “I’ll take the couch if you make me a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Why are you even awake?”

Jaehyun clamps his mouth shut. He scratches the back of his neck. “I noticed your door was open and I was wondering if you were still awake.”

You smirk. “You were concerned about me? How sweet.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles. “Go make me a cup of hot chocolate.”

You smile evilly. “No.”

Jaehyun’s too tired to bicker with you. He ends up occupying the empty spot right next to you in front of the fireplace. He hears you let out a sigh. “Do you think your parents believe it?”

“Believe what?”

He looks at you as if you’re stupid. “That we’re dating.”

“Oh,” you laugh. “I guess? My mom hasn’t spoken to me about you yet. Well, aside from that time she told me how much she liked you—”

“Your mom likes me?” He asks. “For you?”

You frown. “Unfortunately.”

“Admit it, I am the best person to take home for Christmas.” Jaehyun says with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes. “It was so peaceful before you joined me. Do you mind just going back to sleep and leaving me alone?”

“Fine, fine, fine, I’ll just shut up.” Jaehyun gives up, settling his gaze back to the fire. 

It’s silent for a couple of minutes. There are so many things running through your head. You’re not sure where to start. Heck, you’re not even sure if you’ll ever stop thinking too much about the past. Jaehyun seems to notice how silent you’ve gotten. He shifts his gaze and stares at you. You have a distant look. Your eyes seem to sparkle, captivating him. He could see the gears shifting in your head.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Jaehyun clears his throat. “Why did you and Taehyung break up?”

You look at him with a broken gaze and it’s enough for Jaehyun’s heart to ache. You’re surely not over him. In fact, you look far from it. But he couldn’t blame you, you and Taehyung dated for six years. Six years of memories with someone special isn’t something to forget about so easily. 

You laugh it off, but your teary eyes tell something else. “He cheated on me.”

“That…” Jaehyun trails off. “Sucks.”

You stare at him with raised eyebrows before bursting out into laughter. “That’s your reaction? That… sucks?”

“Well, I think Taehyung lost someone special.” Jaehyun says, avoiding your gaze. He looks at the fire, a smile threatening to spread across his lips. “I’m sure he regrets it now. If not now, he’ll surely regret it later on.”

“You see, the Jaehyun I’m talking to right now is much more pleasant.” You bite back a smile. “Why can’t you just be nice, like a decent person?”

“Look, this isn’t a one-way thing. Why can’t you just be nice either?” He asks and immediately, you’re both back to enemies. 

It falls silent again. 

“But, do you really think so?” 

“Think about what?”

“That Taehyung lost someone special?” You whisper. 

Jaehyun meets your eyes. Your eyes aren’t as glassy anymore. In fact, they look a bit more hopeful, a bit more happier. It makes his heart beat a beat too many. 

“I know so.”

When my MOON rises, your SUN rises as well, under the same sky.

You’re almost halfway through your Christmas holiday with your parents and you can’t wait to go home. You can’t wait to go back to your normal, Jaehyun-free life. You’re sure Jaehyun can’t wait either. Your eyes flutter open and you’re immediately blinded by the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You let out a yawn, slowly sitting up on your bed and stretching your arms out. 

Your arms drop when you feel an arm wrapped around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen. Glancing to your left, you see Jaehyun fast asleep. Tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, an idea pops into your head. With a mischievous grin, you quietly grab your phone from the bedside table, going to your phone camera. You slowly hold up your phone in front of Jaehyun’s face. His lips are slightly parted open and he lets out a snore that sounds like the honk of a car. 

“This is perfect blackmail.”

Just as you’re about to take a picture, Jaehyun’s eyes flutter open and widen when he realizes that you’re attempting to take a picture of him— “Give me that!”

You let out a yelp. He grabs your phone and you use all of your willpower to tug your phone away from him. It’s a game of tug-of-war with your phone. Jaehyun’s much stronger and he yanks your phone with all of his might, causing you to fall on top of him. Your hands are pressed against his chest and he’s got his eyes clenched shut. You tilt your head in confusion, why are his eyes—

He peeps one eye open. “Why are your eyes closed?”

His other eye opens. “My eyes weren’t—I had something in my eye.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Then why are your ears red again?”

“They’re not red—” 

“They are!” You exclaim, pointing at them as you move off of him. Out of instinct, he covers his ears with his freakishly large hands. 

“They’re not.”

You raise up your hands in defeat. “Fine.”

He slowly uncovers his ears that are still red. “Good morning, I guess—”

“Y/N! Jaehyun! The skating rink opened! Let’s go before it gets crowded!”

“Time to get out of bed, Jungwoo, stop worrying.” Jungwoo tells himself, slapping his cheeks and getting up from bed. 

All week, he’s been worrying about you and Jaehyun. Things could either work out really well, or it’ll all crash and burn. He shrugs off his thoughts, finally getting out of bed to make himself some breakfast. As he trudges his way to the kitchen, he stops in his tracks when he spots his projector still sitting on the coffee table. 

“How could I forget to put that away?” Jungwoo scolds himself, walking over to the coffee table. He opens  his laptop to disconnect the projector, only to stop. 

The PowerPoint he made specifically for you is still open on his laptop. He had probably gotten a bit too drunk from the beer you both had that night and forgot all about it. He goes through the PowerPoint and stops at one particular slide, a soft smile spreading across his lips.

Although he forgot all about the projector and his laptop, there’s one thing he remembers from that night. 

“I guess she’ll never know what reason number five is.”

“You don’t know how to skate?”

Jaehyun stands near the board, holding onto the railings for his dear life. It’s a funny sight, in fact, it has you doubling over in laughter. Haechan and Yeri had already ventured off, skating with each other on the ice, bickering like the cousins they are, and making each other trip because concussions are the sweetest revenge. You’re stuck with Jaehyun near the boards, waiting for him to gain the courage to push himself onto the ice.

“It’s not that bad, Jaehyun.” You reassure him. You hesitatingly extend your arm out to him. “In fact, if you trust me enough, let me teach you.”

“You’re not going to make me fall on my face, are you?” He squints his eyes at you with suspicion.

“I mean, I could,” you shrug your shoulders. “But I’m not that evil.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I mean, I trusted you enough to help me and pretend to be my boyfriend in front of my family. You could’ve just sabotaged my plan and embarrassed me instead.” You answer.

You had a point. He lets out a sigh, grabbing your hand. Funny thing is that Jaehyun’s hand doesn’t feel sweaty this time around. It feels soft, warm, and perfect in yours. It’s like your hands were meant to hold each other. You begin to skate slowly and you could feel Jaehyun’s reluctance. 

“Just trust me, Jaehyun.”

“I’m trying—”

“Then try harder, doofus!”

“Okay, Jesus—oof!”

Jaehyun slips, completely making a fool out of himself. The way he falls looks extremely embarrassing and there are a couple of kids laughing at him. You frown, looking down at him. He sighs, his back falling against the ice. Suddenly, Jaehyun sees you fake a fall, falling down right next to him. 

“Did you just—”

“Fake a fall? For you? Yes.” You cut him off. “Just go with it.”

“Wait, why?” He chuckles.

“Because your fall is giving me second-hand embarrassment.” You mumble. “Now, let’s get back up and start again. I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon.”

And so you both start again. Jaehyun’s hand absentmindedly reaches out to grab yours, interlocking his fingers with yours. At first, you help Jaehyun skate by skating backwards and bringing him along with you. It takes him a couple of falls and trips, but it’s not long until he’s almost getting the hang of it. 

“I told you, it’s not that bad.” You smile.

“I think I can do it.” Jaehyun says softly.

“Do you think so?” You question.

He slowly nods his head. “I might as well try.”

“Alright, I’ll be standing over there. I want you to skate to me.” You point towards one of the corners a couple of metres away. You glance at Jaehyun. “Are you sure you could do it?”

“Let me try.” He insists.

Before you skate off, you let go of Jaehyun’s hand. The warmth of your hand immediately vanishes, and suddenly, Jaehyun feels like he’s missing something. He stares at your back as you skate away. When you turn around to face him, he quickly shifts his gaze away from you. You open your arms, gesturing for him to begin skating over. He sucks in a deep breath and begins to skate over, slowly but surely. You find Jaehyun quite adorable and it makes you start to smile.

Jaehyun looks up from the ice to look at you. You’re smiling at him. But the smile you have on is a different smile. It’s bright, so bright that it blinds him. Your smile feels so foreign, yet so familiar. It’s so familiar that it reminds him of the time when you were both fifteen. It reminds him of the moment you confessed your crush on him. It’s so foreign that it’s been ages since he last saw a smile like that on your face. He’s not sure if Taehyung made you smile that way. He could feel his heart shrivel up, time slow down, and all he could think about are the ways he could make you smile like that forever—

“Oh!”

Jaehyun falls, his butt landing on the ice with a soft thud. You gasp, your mouth hanging open in shock. The both of you just stare at each other in surprise before you’re the first one to break it. You wheeze out into laughter, bending over as you continue to laugh at him. Jaehyun’s too absorbed by your adorable laughter that rings in your ears that it makes him start to laugh with you. 

From a couple of metres away, Haechan slows down and watches the both of you laugh. Jaehyun’s sitting on the ice and you’re bending over, laughing so hard that even Haechan can hear it. 

“This is surely not going to end well.”

On the fourth day, you’re all rummaging through the cabinets for recipe ingredients. Apparently Haechan still thinks Santa exists and so now you’re all spiralling into a mess trying to bake Santa a batch of cookies. Yeri slams the bag of flour onto the countertop and sighs. Jaehyun’s busy mixing the butter, brown sugar, and white sugar in a bowl. You’re greasing the pans and preheating the oven. 

“You know, Santa doesn’t exist—”

“Shut up, Jaehyun!” Haechan gives Jaehyun a warning look. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Jaehyun wipes the sweat off his forehead and glances at you. You’re putting a couple cups of flour into the bowl. A smile slowly occupies his lips when he notices your dusty hair that’s covered in flour. His eyes trail down towards your face, his smile widening, there are some traces of flour on your cheeks. You wipe your cheek, only to make it worse.

He’s itching to wipe the flour off your cheeks, but why does he suddenly feel shy and hesitant to do it? The both of you are supposed to act like a couple. At first, it was so easy for him to pretend to be your boyfriend. But why did it suddenly become difficult? When did it suddenly become difficult?

“Why are you looking at me, love?” Jaehyun snaps out of his trance, caught red-handed. 

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Nothing.”

“You’ve got flour on your face, dumb dumb.” Haechan points at your cheek. 

“I do?” You ask, your hands immediately reaching for your cheeks until—

Jaehyun gently wipes the flour off of your cheeks. His eyes are focused on your cheeks that are heating up with embarrassment. He looks… handsome—

“Thanks.” You stop yourself from thinking too much. 

This is all fake. Remember that.

Jaehyun looks at you with an expression you can’t read. He gives you a genuine smile.

“No problem, love.”

“Jaehyun, do you mind checking up on the cookies?” 

Haechan wakes Jaehyun up from his nap. All it takes is a light nudge and a couple of pokes to the cheek for him to get up from the couch. He looks out the window and surprisingly, it’s snowing. Jaehyun stretches his arms out, slowly getting up from the couch. He trudges his way to the kitchen to find you washing the dishes. He’s about to call out your name, but he stops himself. You’re humming to yourself, rinsing the dishes underneath the water. As you place the clean dishes onto the dish rack, you walk over towards the oven to check up on the cookies.

You squat down, looking through the window to see the cookies almost done baking. Suddenly, you see someone squat down next to you from your peripheral vision. You make the biggest mistake of turning your head. Jaehyun’s already looking back at you, his face inches away from yours. You could feel your heartbeat pick up its pace. 

You clear your throat, quickly looking away from him and acting as if nothing had happened. You point at the cookies. “I think they’re almost done. Let’s give it a couple more minutes—”

“You’re pretty.”

You slowly meet his gaze, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “S-Sorry?”

Jaehyun snaps out of it. “I said, you look like a piggie.”

You scoff, pushing his shoulders. He falls back onto the hardwood floors with a soft thud, glaring at you. You roll your eyes, getting up from your squat position to get back to dishwashing. 

“Piggie, my ass.” You grumble underneath your breath.

You’re scared. You’ve never felt this scared.

The last time Jaehyun ever made your heart race was when you were fifteen. He should not be letting your heart race like that again.

But it is.

“I can’t believe it’s already Christmas Eve.”

“I’m happy this week is almost over.”

You and Jaehyun are in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. He finishes first, wiping his mouth with a face towel and throwing it in your face. You yell at him, grabbing the towel and throwing it at his back. “I’m glad I don’t have to romantically associate myself with you after this.”

Jaehyun raises his hands up. “Surprise, surprise, me too. Two more days of this shit and I’ll finally be free. Don’t forget that vintage turntable you promised me—”

“I never break my promises—”

“I didn’t say that—”

“But you were implying it—”

“Babe, I’ll be downstairs to help set up the dining table for breakfast.” There’s a sudden change in Jaehyun’s voice, making you straighten up your posture. It happens out of instinct. You clear your throat, stepping out of the bathroom to see your mother entering the bedroom.

“Mom, hey,” you greet her nervously, scratching the back of your neck. “Did you need something?”

She shakes her head, a small smile on her lips and she makes herself comfortable on the edge of your bed. You awkwardly stand in front of the bathroom, fiddling with your fingers, a bad habit of yours that you can’t seem to drop. Jaehyun picks up your mannerism and slowly exits the bedroom to leave the two of you alone. Why was this making him feel nervous? Did your mother see through the two of you?

“I just wanted to check up on you,” she says softly. “About you and Taehyung.”

You bite your lip. “I don’t think there’s much to say about Taehyung and I—”

“Why didn’t you tell me that the both of you broke up?” She asks with concern. “Were you afraid that we would be worried about you?”

You slowly nod your head in reply. “I was terrified.”

“Well, you can always tell me anything. You know that.” She reminds you.

You let out a soft sigh. You’re so close to telling your mom the truth. That this whole relationship with Jaehyun is a lie, that it’s a front to keep them from feeling disappointed in you. That Jaehyun is merely just an enemy, someone far from your boyfriend. But you bite your tongue to stop yourself.

“Taehyung cheated on me,” you whisper. Scratch that, it barely comes out above a whisper. Your mom is silent. You bite your lip. “I know. I reacted the same way.”

“How long? When did you find out?” She questions. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Then, who does? Who deserves you? Do you deserve to be loved? The thought makes your eyes water, but you blink them away before your mom notices. You can’t look weak in front of her, she will only see right through you. 

“I found out a year and a couple of months before we broke up.” You answer and your voice almost cracks. “He’s been seeing her for a while. I mean, we’ve been dating for six years and I found out he started seeing her when we were four years in.”

“Are you okay?” She asks. “Will you be okay?”

You purse your lips into a tight line. “I hope so. I mean, Jaehyun’s been too good to me and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve it—”

“From the looks of it, Jaehyun’s keeping you happy.” Your mom smiles. “But what makes me sad are the times you came home with Taehyung for Christmas and acted like everything between the both of you was alright, when you knew that he was seeing someone else.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You whisper.

She shakes your head. “You’ll never disappoint me, Y/N. I will always be proud of you.”

The tears flow down so easily. Your mom pulls you into an embrace and gives you gentle, soothing rubs on the back. You warm up to her embrace, snuggling into her neck and letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Besides, I think Jaehyun is doing a pretty good job at helping you move on. You look different to how you looked when you were with Taehyung. There’s something more brighter and prettier about your smile that you have on whenever you’re with Jaehyun.” Your mom explains.

“You think so?”

She smiles. 

“Yes, I do.”

The four of you sit in front of the fire, all sporting the same pair of red, plaid pajamas and ugly sweaters. There are four presents sitting right in front of you, waiting to be given out. It was Haechan’s idea to stay up until midnight, where it’d officially be Christmas Day and you could open your Secret Santa gifts. Patience is such a virtue, and Haechan clearly doesn’t have it. 

“I can’t believe the week is almost over.”

Haechan doesn’t get a single word from any of you. You’re a bit tipsy to find the right words to say to him. The Christmas Eve dinner was eventful but you can’t seem to stop thinking about how Jaehyun looked at you from across the dining table. There’s something different about the way he looks at you now, and it bothers you.

You feel a slight nudge. You glance to your side to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. “What?”

“Do you remember when you first confessed to me?” 

You scoff, covering it up with a cough in case Yeri picks up your sudden change in attitude. You say through gritted teeth, “Of course I do, babe. Do you remember?”

Jaehyun’s close to chuckling. He tears his gaze away from you and stares at the fire. It reminds him of that night at the campsite, where the both of you were setting up the bonfire. He remembers finding you really pretty and adorable that night, and he was itching to tell you. But he couldn’t do it. He remembers hearing you call out his name with a soft voice, how his heart skipped a beat. You were looking up at him with hopeful eyes. And then you confessed to him.

“Of course I do,” he mumbles with a shy smile on his lips. “How could I ever forget?”

You’re staring at him a bit too much. The small smile on his lips kind of throws you off. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. It comes out as a whisper. “What do you mean?”

It seems he has heard you because he shrugs his shoulders. “What do you think I mean?”

You’re tipsy. “You’re being extremely confusing, Jaehyun.”

When Jaehyun finds the courage to look at you, you almost let out a soft gasp. The way he looks at you is the same way he looked at you that night at the campsite. It terrifies you. You look away from him.

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Confessing to me that night.” He clarifies for you.

You purse your lips into a tight line. “A huge part of me does, but that’s only because you rejected me.”

“I did not reject your confession.” 

You scoff. “Yeah, because flat out saying ‘I don’t return the same feelings as you.’ isn’t considered a rejection.”

“Would you ever,” he begins to ask, but he stops himself. 

“Would I ever, what?”

“Would you ever fall in love with someone like me?” He questions. “No, would you ever like me? Again?”

You’re definitely drunk.

“If you weren’t so much of an annoying brat, I would.”

“You would?”

“Sure. Maybe in a heartbeat.”

And in a heartbeat, Jaehyun finds himself feeling terrified because the feelings that he forced himself not to feel anymore don’t seem to leave, but instead grow stronger. Why did he have to be in love with you? Why is he such a coward? A fool? He’s not sure. But being in love with you is the best thing he’s ever done, and if being in love with you was a mistake… it would be his most beautiful mistake that he’s ever made.

And a beautiful mistake you truly are, when he carefully holds your face in his large hands, when he watches your eyes flutter shut as he leans in, when your lips are inches away from each other, when he kisses you out on the porch underneath the snowflakes falling from the sky.

As you both pull away, time that felt frozen had gone back to normal and the images that remain stuck in his mind is the look of confusion you had given him and the J necklace he gifted you that’s wrapped around your neck. 

“I have another gift for you, Y/N.”

“What is it?” You ask softly. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I had to, I was your Secret Santa, right?” He pulls out another box from his pocket and hands it to you. He sucks in a deep breath. “I hope you like it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, eyes trailing down to the box into your hands. You gently open the box and you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat.

It’s the silver lockit you’ve always wanted but never got. 

The only difference is that you’re not sure if you wanted it after finding out Taehyung cheated on you.

Jungwoo pulls up to the cottage with an empty trunk and free hugs. You and Jaehyun step out of the cottage, not uttering a single word to each other since that night out on the porch. You didn’t care if your parents noticed that distance you both had in between each other, you were too lost in your thoughts and feelings. The moment Jungwoo spots the two of you out on the porch, he feels his heart stop. Something surely happened between the two of you. 

“You better have that PS5 ready. I kept this relationship under wraps for a whole week.” Haechan whispers into Jaehyun’s ear when he puts him into a headlock. 

Jaehyun shoves him away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“You’re leaving soon?” You ask Haechan. 

He shakes his head. “We’re gonna stay back with your family for the rest of the day. We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I kind of wish you guys stayed just a little bit longer.”

“I was only able to book a week off from work. Sorry, Haechan.” You frown. The both of you hug. “It was nice seeing you again after so long. Study hard, alright? If a girl breaks your heart, just let me know who I have to fight.”

And soon enough, you’re both heading towards Jungwoo. Your parents are waving you goodbye from the porch and Jungwoo starts driving down the road. Jungwoo looks at the both of you through the rearview mirror, wincing when Jaehyun’s lips part to start a conversation, but you quickly look away from him and out the window to avoid it. 

What happened, exactly?

“Thanks for the ride, Jungwoo.” 

With the slam of a trunk, you meet Jaehyun’s eyes and purse your lips into a tight line. You fake a smile. “Thanks for helping me, Jaehyun. I really appreciate it. I’ll get you your vintage LP turntable as soon as—”

“You don’t need to get it anymore,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “I was kidding anyways.”

“Alright,” you mumble. “I’ll get going. I’m sure the both of you are tired from the trip—”

Jaehyun feels his heart clench. “Can we—Can we talk?”

Jungwoo bites his lip nervously. You look at Jungwoo from over your shoulder with a questioning gaze. He gestures for you to take your time and he swore he saw you grimace. You smile at Jaehyun, but Jaehyun knows it’s not genuine. “Sure.”

Jaehyun helps you bring your luggage inside of your apartment, placing them right near the door. You stand a few metres away from the door, giving him some space to stand at least a metre away from you. He clears his throat. “So—”

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?” 

He clamps his mouth shut. He feels his hands grow sweaty. “I wanted to talk about last night and why it seems as if you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Jaehyun—”

“You are.” Jaehyun cuts you off. “I know you are, but could you at least tell me why?”

“I don’t think we should.” You bite your lip.

He frowns. “Is it because of the necklace?”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “No, it’s not because of the necklace—”

“So, it is because of the necklace—”

“Fine. It is because of the necklace. You want to talk about it? Fine.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “Why did you think that this would be a good idea? To give me a necklace that does nothing but remind me of my cheating ex? Right after you kissed me, too?”

“I thought it would give you closure—”

“Closure?!” You let out a bitter laugh. “For what?”

“Because Taehyung is holding you back. Your relationship with him is holding you back. You need to move on, Y/N. Taehyung is not coming back for you—” He begins to explain.

“I’ve established that fact the moment he left me for her. Besides, my relationships are none of your business. On top of that, why do you care so much? This is my life, not yours—”

“Maybe I care so much because—because I—” His heart hurts so much.

“Don’t you dare finish your sentence. I’m sick and tired of your jokes, Jaehyun. Y/N this and Y/N that. Budding crush here and embarrassing crush there. Whatever happened when we were fifteen will remain in the past. I liked you, you didn’t like me back and rejected me—” You look broken.

“Wait, what?” He looks at you with confusion. “I didn’t reject you. In fact, when you confessed to me that night, I was on top of the world because I returned the same feelings—fuck, I still do—”

“You laughed at me when I told you that I liked you—”

“And then you took it the wrong way. Months after that summer, I was figuring out why you were avoiding me, why you were ignoring me, why we suddenly became strangers, only to find out that you’re dating Taehyung—” You look at him incredulously.

“Is that why you decided to help me? Because I look like some charity case, huh? Because you felt bad that my six-year relationship ended with a third party? Or you just wanted to have fun and laugh at me for being so weak? For being the poor little girl who got left behind because her stupid little boyfriend got bored of her? Or you just—”

“You’re not a charity case and you never will be—”

“Then, why?! Why are you helping me? Why do you care so much—” You yell out with frustration.

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve always been in love with you, but you were always running away. And I was always trying to chase after you. I still am. I figured helping you do this for your parents would give me a chance to—” He confesses.

“What? A chance for me to start liking you again? To fall in love with you again?” You mumble. You shake your head. “You had your chance when we were fifteen, Jaehyun. It’s been six years.”

“Y/N—”

“You had many chances. You’re nothing but a coward and a fool.” You point at the door. “Now, please leave. I’ve had enough of this.”

“I—” He begins before he cuts himself off. “Fine, I’ll leave. Whatever suits you, I guess.”

You watch him breathlessly as he steps out of your apartment and slams the door behind him. You flinch at the sound, breaking down completely when you sit on the hardwood floors of your apartment. Jaehyun lets out a sigh, hearing you start to cry from outside your door. He fights himself from knocking on your door to comfort you, but he figures he’s the reason why you’re crying.

As he steps out of the building, Jungwoo frowns upon spotting him. 

Something surely did happen.

And it’s surely not good.

That half-full MOON looks just like me right now. Nothing comes even close to having half of you. If only I had just half of you. If only.

Two months later…

“I have a delivery for Jeong Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun looks at the delivery man with confusion. He tilts his head, signing the papers before getting a huge box placed into his arms. “I don’t remember ordering anything but… thank you.”

With disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes, his half-awake self places the box onto the table. He rummages through the drawers in his kitchen for a knife to open the box after struggling to open it with his bare hands. He opens the box and immediately spots a small envelope sitting right on top of an LP turntable. He almost drops the knife out of shock. With shaky hands, he grabs the envelope and traces the handwritten letters that spell out your name.

He carefully pulls out the card and reads what you’ve written in it. Suddenly, he finds himself grabbing his coat from the coat rack and rushing out the door.

A notification pops up on your phone. 

You grab your phone, continuing to brush your teeth. You let out a snort when you hear Jungwoo singing and talking to himself in the kitchen. When you unlock your phone to read the notification, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

Order delivered. Thank you for shopping with us!

You step out of the bathroom after brushing your teeth. “Hey, Jungwoo?”

Jungwoo is in the midst of flipping a pancake, looking over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re awake? Do you need something?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t need anything. I just wanted to ask if Jaehyun knows that I…”

“Moved out? Moved in with me?” Jungwoo finishes your sentence and you hesitatingly nod. He shakes his head, looking away from you to finish cooking the pancake before burning his fourth one. “No, he doesn’t know. I figured you didn’t want him to know.”

“Ah, I see.” You mumble. 

He stops. “Wait, why’d you ask?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. Hey, do you mind if I use your laptop for something? I just need to clear out my father’s emails. You know him, he always forgets to do it and thinks it’s my responsibility to do it.”

He nods his head. “Yeah, go for it. You don’t even need to ask.”

As you step into your bedroom, you log into your father’s email, only to realize you’ve forgotten the password. You sigh, typing in all the possible passwords from the top of your head, failing to log in successfully. Your last resort is to call your mother to ask for the password.

“And how could I help my lovely daughter on this fine morning?”

“Stop being cringey, mom.” You roll your eyes. 

“Hi, sweetheart. What’s up?” She chuckles. 

“What’s dad’s password to his email? I’m trying to clean out his inbox again. You know, it’s a monthly thing I do for him. I should get more credit.” 

“Alright, the password is your birthday and Jaehyun’s name in capital letters. Funny how your father decided to use that as his password after he needed to renew it during our holiday vacation.” Your mother says and you fall silent. “Speaking of Jaehyun, how are you guys?”

You’re typing in the password and it works. You let out a chuckle. You begin to lie. “Uh… we’re doing alright. It's his birthday tomorrow, actually.”

“Did you get him something?”

You hum in reply. “I did.”

“What did you get him?” You smile.

“Something he always wanted. Something he told me not to get.” You reply, opening a PowerPoint document your father’s client had emailed him. When you open the PowerPoint, you notice another presentation opened on the application. “Sorry, mother, I think I have to call you later.”

“Alright, talk to you soon.”

You toss your phone to the side, clicking on the familiar PowerPoint presentation opened. It pulls up right in front of your eyes and you let out an airy laugh.

Five reasons why Jeong Jaehyun should be the fake boyfriend you’ll bring home for Christmas.

Reason #1: He is a handsome and smooth motherfucker and I’m sure your parents will be very impressed.

There are many times you’ve been left speechless and struck by how charming Jaehyun is. Well, you did have a crush on him when you were fifteen and your parents seemed very convinced when you brought him home for Christmas. 

Reason #2: Johnny is in a relationship, Sicheng is in a relationship and Mark has a crush on your sister. Jungwoo is too obvious and not an option. This makes Jaehyun the perfect candidate.

Jaehyun surely was the perfect candidate. It was almost as if he was meant to pretend to be your boyfriend. It felt so meant to be that a small part of you wished that it was real, but you were too hung up on your last relationship to even notice. 

Reason #3: Yeri and Haechan would definitely approve of Jaehyun.

They both really adored and loved Jaehyun. It’s a huge difference between the awkwardness they felt when you were with Taehyung, especially when you introduced him to them.

Reason #4: You both look good together. You both suit each other. The only problem is that you both hate each other with a lively passion.

From time to time, you would look at the group pictures you took on Christmas Eve in front of the Christmas tree. You would do it to try and imagine a better person standing next to Jaehyun instead of you, simply because you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. He’s just too good to be true. 

You click onto the next PowerPoint slide and your breath hitches in your throat.

Reason #5: Jaehyun’s in love with you. You just don’t know that he is. But I, Kim Jungwoo, knows. Why and how, you ask? He told me. In fact, Jaehyun’s been in love with you for the longest time… ever since the both of you were fifteen.

You shut the laptop, tossing it to the side and grabbing your phone. It’s almost as if your feet had a mind of its own, dragging you out of your bedroom and straight towards the door. You’re grabbing your coat and keys as you head out without warning—

“Hey, where are you going? We still have to eat breakfast—and she’s gone.” Jungwoo lets out a sigh, looking down at all the pancakes he made and all the burnt ones he placed on another separate plate. He sighs again. “I guess that leaves me with all of these pancakes to eat.”

“Y/N—you are not Y/N.”

An old lady stands at the door, looking at him questioningly. She blinks once and twice before her eyebrows raise. “Ah! Are you looking for Y/N? The beautiful young lady who lived here before me?”

Jaehyun slowly nods his head. “Y-Yes, I’m looking for Y/N.”

The old lady folds her arms. “Well, I could tell you where she is because I know where she moved in. But I’m not sure if I could trust you enough to tell you. Who are you, exactly? And how are you related to her?”

Jaehyun bites his lip. “I’m her… boyfriend. No, ex-boyfriend—actually, I’m not quite sure—”

“Ah, so you’re the guy she was talking about? The coward? The fool?”

Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. “I—I guess that’s me, yes.”

She chuckles. “Alright, Jaehyun—”

“You know my name?”

“Yes, now listen to me carefully before I forget telling you.” She commands. “She moved out a couple of months ago to move in with her best friend. She left me instructions, actually. She told me that if a handsome man shows up at the door and introduces himself as Jaehyun, I must tell him that he’s a coward and a fool.”

He scoffs. “What is with her?”

“But,” she smiles. “She also asked me if I could tell him where she moved in case he looks for her. She said she’s sure it’s not going to happen, but she asked me to do this favour for her just in case it does.”

“T-Thank you,” he whispers. 

“Now, I’m sure you know which best friend she lives with. But before you leave, I want you to remember one thing.” She continues. “Before you find her, go and grab her some flowers. When you finally find her, don’t chicken out and tell her exactly how you feel. I’m not sure why she calls you a coward and a fool, but if it’s because you weren’t true with your feelings to her, then use this as your second chance.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I’ll make sure of that.”

She shoos him away. “Now, get going. You might catch her on time.”

And Jaehyun follows her advice. On his way to Jungwoo’s apartment, he drops by a flower shop. He picks up a bouquet of white lilies and pink daisies. He rushes out of the flower shop and starts sprinting to Jungwoo’s apartment a couple of blocks away. 

As he reaches the apartment building, he presses the button for the elevator. When the elevator doors open, he almost rushes into someone until—

“Jaehyun?”

You’re looking at Jaehyun. You both look out of breath. You gawk at him with shock that you barely utter a word except for his name. Jaehyun snaps out of it, walking into the elevator and you back up, your back gently pressed against the wall. You watch him as he presses the buttons to all 20 floors of the apartment building before closing the elevator doors. 

“What are you doing—”

“For you.” He hands you a bouquet of lilies and daisies. You awkwardly take the flowers from him. 

“T-Thanks.” You whisper, losing confidence just because you’re not sure what to expect from him. 

You both face yourselves away from each other. As you reach the second floor, Jaehyun closes the doors right when they open. He scratches the back of his neck. 

“So, when did you move out?”

You bite your lip. “Two months ago.”

He hums in reply. Another awkward silence fills the atmosphere. 

“How have you been?” You both ask in unison before smiling sheepishly. You shyly look away from him. 

“I’ve been great. But I could be doing better.” He says softly. “With you.”

You look up at him. He’s already looking at you. “I assume the old grandma told you where I moved.”

He slowly nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Ah, I see.” You say softly. 

The elevator reaches the third floor. The doors open and Jaehyun closes them immediately. You bite your lip. “Look, Jaehyun—”

“You know, I’m still in love with you.” He confesses again. “I mean, I always have. It’s not like I can force myself to stop being in love with you because I tried and it’s impossible to do and so—”

“Jaehyun, you’re rambling.”

“Am I?” He laughs nervously, looking away from you. “Sorry, I do that when I’m nervous and I’m really nervous right now.”

“Did you get the—”

“The LP turntable?” Jaehyun asks and you nod your head. “Yeah, I did. I got it this morning. T-Thanks.”

You smile. “No problem—”

“You remembered.” He mumbles. “I didn’t think you would remember. I didn’t even think you would get me one either, but you did.”

“How could I forget?”

Another awkward silence. Fourth floor, same routine. The doors open and Jaehyun closes them. 

“Y/N, please say something because I feel really nervous right now and I’m not sure if you’re mad at me or if you’re sad or if you just really don’t want to talk to me and if you don’t, that’s completely fine, just tell me and I’ll hop off on the next floor—”

“I’m not mad at you, Jaehyun. I mean, if I am, I would be the one getting off the elevator right now.” You cut off his ramble. “And you’re rambling again.”

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit.” He apologizes. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

“How could I be mad at you?” You chuckle. “Besides, I feel nervous standing next to you right now. It reminds me of how I felt when I was about to confess to you when we were fifteen.”

Fifth floor. “O-Oh? Really?”

You reach out to press the button to close the doors. “Yeah.”

“Well, as I was saying, I’m still in love with you, Y/N. You don’t have to return the same feelings. I just felt like telling you would clear things up. You can forget about me after this, but I just didn’t want you to remember me as the fool and the coward and just—”

“So, you were in love with me since we were fifteen?”

“God, yes.” He sighs. “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time. When I told you that, I knew you wouldn’t believe me and I understand if you still don’t. But I’m telling you the truth—”

“When do you want to come home and visit my parents?”

You ask. 

“Wait, why?” Jaehyun asks, letting out another nervous laugh. Sixth floor and the doors close again. “Y/N, you’re being a bit confusing right now—”

“My parents miss you, actually. I missed you.” You explain. “But you don’t need to if you don’t want to—”

“I can pretend to be your boyfriend again, Y/N. Anything for you—”

“Not as my fake boyfriend, but as my real boyfriend.” You correct him. 

He stares at you. “Are you in love with me?”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “How could I not be?”

The elevator stops at the seventh floor. Jaehyun breaks out into the biggest smile, gently grabbing your cheeks and crashing his lips onto yours. You stumble back from the impact. He walks forward and you walk backward until you're both standing in the corner. He kisses you passionately and gently that it makes you weak in the knees. 

“Y/N? You forgot to bring this—oh fuck, what the fuck?!” Jungwoo sees the both of you making out in the elevator when the doors open. Jaehyun quickly presses the button to close the door. You giggle, pulling him closer, not wanting any of this to end. 

Jungwoo scrunches up his nose in disgust. “Gross. But cute. I think my work here is done.”

“Babe, I’ll be over there getting popcorn for us. Alright?”

You nod. “Alright. I’ll go and buy the tickets.”

Jaehyun boops your nose with the tip of his finger before heading towards the food court. You’re printing out tickets with the self-checkout booth. Just as you’re about to move to the side for someone else to use the booth, you hear your name being called out but it’s not Jaehyun’s voice. 

You look up from your tickets to see—

“Taehyung?” You squint your eyes to get a better look of the guy approaching you. Indeed, it’s your ex, Taehyung. “Oh, it is you.”

“Long time no see.” He smiles. He’s about to reach in for a hug but you stand still. He chuckles sheepishly. “How have you been?”

You smile. “Better. You? How are you and Injae?”

His smile falters. “We’ve… We’re not together anymore, actually.”

“Ah, I see. Sorry about that.” You apologize. 

“Have you—Have you been seeing anyone, lately? I mean, there must be a reason why we’ve bumped into each other. It must be a sign—”

An arm is thrown over your shoulder and you’re being kept close to Jaehyun, who had come in just in time with the popcorn. “Yeah, I’m assuming that that reason would be to tell you that Y/N’s off the market and will be for a long time. Exes are exes for a reason. And a sign? This must be a sign to tell you to back off.”

“You’re together? The two of you?” Taehyung scoffs. 

“Yes, and?” Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow. “Anyways, it was nice seeing you Taehyung.”

“I—” 

“And I hope this will be the last time too.” Jaehyun smiles, before looking at you. “When did you say your parents were going to arrive, again?”

You chuckle, watching Taehyung walk away with defeat. “They’ll be here soon. I’m sure they can’t wait to see you.”

“There they are!”

Coincidentally, your parents arrive and rush over. Your mother combs out her hair with her fingers and lets out a sigh of relief. “I thought we were late.”

“Nothing to worry about, in fact, you came just in time.” You laugh, looking up at Jaehyun. “Actually, there’s someone I want to introduce to you.”

“Who? Jaehyun?” Your father asks before chuckling. “Silly you, we know who he is—”

Jaehyun extends his hand out to them. “Hi, I’m Jaehyun, Y/N’s boyfriend.”

“But—wait, what?”

And funny as it is, the two of you have a lot of explaining to do.

Baby steps.

author’s note. merry christmas everyone! hope you’ve been staying safe and healthy! take care always and please feel free to send me feedback! it’ll be very much appreciated! i hope you enjoyed this christmas fic!

[swinterr]

fic rec vii ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez )  if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

kpop oc/s

1. jane by @baejiyeonz

2. bee by @purpleyellow

3. lian by @nct-lian

4. taehui by @jeontaehui

nct

sungchan

1. [10:47 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

haechan

1. [5:21] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. you’re warm by @dreamystuffers | f

- a drunk hyuck can only mean a clingy hyuck.

3. you’re short too by @pastelsicheng | f

- 5 times hyuck teases u for ur height.

4. no title by @heychan | s 

- dirty thought cockwarming haechan and johnny comes in to the room while you are trying to hide it but haechan doesn’t care.

5. wishes by @lucaswithnoshirt | a f

- standing on stage is everything you’ve dreamed of. except in the time it’s taken you to get there, you’ve been dreaming about other things, too.

jaehyun

1. moving in: the series by @jaehyun-ified | f

- after agreeing to move-in with jaehyun, you decided to curate a little series on your channel to both give in to your viewer’s request to have jaehyun frequently on your contents and to document your moving in process with the love of you life.

2. [8:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam. 

3. boyfriend by @simpsiren | a 

- a relationship with jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. there wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

4. best part by @okayoongii | f

- don’t know how to describe this tho, just read it. also 10/10

5. can i help you? by @sugarjaee | f s

- when working an extra long shift at work, your boyfriend surprises you with a visit.

6. stages of love by @biletdoux | a f s

- a playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart. 

7. [9:04 am] by @jeongvision | // f

- domestic fluffy blurb. 10/10!!

8. suds by @kim-taehung | s

- first person to move does the dishes for a week. nothing is off-limits.

9. promise by @bvbyxuxi | f a

- jaehyun has loved you since you were both kids, things were going well until he messed everything up; meeting again as young adults, he refuses to let you go again but would you give him another chance?

mark

1. one minus on plus one by @wonjaekook | f a 

- in all of the years you’ve known jungwoo, you should have figured out to not take his words at face value because, though you haven’t even met, mark lee seems to hate your guts. 

2. [12:03] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

3. pretty boy by @epinebleue | f a

- fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, the reader is two years older than mark, jaehyun makes an appearance as the reader’s fuck buddy, use of alcohol and drugs (marijuana), mentions of violence (mark punches someone), smut (protected sex, inexperienced!mark, dry humping).

4. camera flash by @morkleemelon | f

- mark taking a picture but forgot to remove flash waking up oc, pretty fluffy and cute! 10/10!!!

5. retrouvailles by @kireimarkeu | f

- counting down the days until you finally see your long-distance boyfriend.

jungwoo

1. [1:14 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

johnny

1. man-icure by @haejunehui | f

- based on jcc ep. 26

taeyong

1. reverb by @lovingonrepeat | s

- taeyong + studio sex. 

2. unspoken by @bvbyxuxi | f s 

- you had never thought to see taeyong again after your one night stand with him until this year where he takes you by surprise; turns out he wasn’t the guy you sought him out to be after all.

ten

1. [2:32 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

lucas

1. [4:31 pm] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

2. king of hearts by @raibebe | f s a

- a little bit of everything, a chef’s kiss. 

yuta

1. [5:51 pm ] by @dont-look-down-on-me | f

- based on the nct relay cam.

doyoung 

1. redamancy by @heavenlyhaechan | f

- this is just so fluffy! i wished to be doyong gf please. 

2. fools together by @yongiefilms | f

- two fools in love with each other? 

3. acedia by @jaeminscoffee | f

- a day in the life of yours and doyoung's love life.

4. our little secret by @haejunehui | f

- read to know their little secret. hehe.

5. caught red handed by @hannie-dul-set | f

- all you wanted to do was take a picture of the handsome law student during your train ride home. you did not expect things to end up like this.

jeno

1. i see red by @0097linersb | s

- pure filth 🥵10/10 tho.

2. addiction by @love-mi | s f

- you and jeno keep your relationship a secret to avoid backlash from your companies and fans; but keeping himself away only makes him want you more.

3. surprise visit by @nakamotonudes | f s

- you hadn’t seen your boyfriend for over a month because of his hectic schedule so when he suddenly shows up at your place one night for a surprise visit, you both have to make every second worth it.

bts

jungkook

1. the pitter-patter of the heart by @koorara | f s a //

- pieces of newlywed domestic moments with jungkook, your husband. the young film and literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. not to forget, chip, the cat that has been with you for years. 

2. please love me by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a 

- as the only unmarried jeon and kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. but despite developing an affection for jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. you’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

3. first love, last love by @floralseokjin | f s //

- a collection of drabbles following the longterm relationship between jungkook and you... 

4. second chances by @parkhabits | a s

- work. one of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. his work had become the mistress within your marriage. years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. get him to sign the damn divorce papers. yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily. 

5. crush by @jungxk | f s 

- jungkook woke up with amnesia (?) he totally forgets that he has a wife and child. and he totally has a huge crush on his wife. 

6. bare necessities by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- when you ask your boyfriend for a relaxing vacation you don’t exactly expect him to take you to disneyland out of all places. luckily, jungkook knows just how to get you to relax — being needy is definitely not the way. or is it…

7. krampus for christmas by @ddaenysus | f

- when your daughter overhears your nightly activities close to christmas, jungkook takes it upon himself to convince her it was the sounds of the legendary demon goat.

8. a date with destiny by @imjustfanfictrash | f s

- you are a boss lady in the tech industry traveling to world for work. he is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

9. stranded by @gguksgalaxy | f s a

- jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. his entire presence is unwelcome. you don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. it’s annoying — he is annoying. from the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

10. sprout by @v-hope | f

- after a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.

11. friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover | // f s a

- you meet pop star/idol jeon jungkook at the café, you get close, and as hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. but you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

12. jealousy by @ephemeralkookie | f s a

- jungkook’s closest friend, namjoon is getting married and he invited you three to his wedding. the only unexpected thing was jisoo, his ex, and we’ll just say that you were not too happy to see her flirting with your boyfriend right under your nose

13. a quarter past us by @jjiimin | f a

- when you break up with him out of fear of losing your freedom in university, he finds himself showing you why leaving him isn’t the answer. 

14. pretty boy by @angelguk | // f s a

- alternatively known as the jock!jk universe drabbles in vague chronological order. 

15. summer solstice by @boulevardk | s

- down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. you figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. but one fateful night, your prayers are answered. are you willing to pay the price? the sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

16. lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks | f a 

- over the years, things change - but the one constant is your love for lilac wisterias.…okay, maybe jungkook’s been there too.or, alternatively:the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

17. obsessed with your ass by @kooklovesu | f s 

- jungkook has an obsession with your body he cant get enough of praising you. he wasn’t comfy showing the world his affection towards you in public because he’s a private guy, but when he finally did, good luck.

18. from home by @gyukult | // f s a

- jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class?

19. black card by @minsprings | // f s

- black card fic and drabbles, also a chef’s kiss.

20. oh my god, they were (quarantined) roommates by @ot7always | f s

- what do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with jeon jungkook - s tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? fuck him, you guess.

21. let the games begin by @venusiangguk | s

- just another fic where oc rides jk in his gaming chair pls still read it tho lmao its hot i promise

22. the probability of us by @jiminrings | f s

- jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

23. open when by @iluv-hobi | f

- jungkook likes to write letters to you, especially ones with purposes, like “open when ___”. one day, on a particularly bad day, you open, “open when you’ve had a shitty day”. 

24. good day by @ilikemesometaetaes | f s

- his motive was made quite clear once he called you out of work. he just wanted to spend a nice day with his girlfriend. is that too much to ask for?

25. calculated by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // s 

- some people would call you far too serious. some would call you stuck-up. and some would call you a bitch. but to freshman jeon jungkook, you’re the head calculus I TA noona  – and he’s determined to fuck you.

26. brat taming by @sugasbabiie | s a f

- jungkook has been your roommate for almost a year. since the day he moved in he has acted like nothing but a spoiled little brat who is used to getting anything and anyone he wants. he eats your food, he doesn’t clean, he’s loud, oh and now he has colored his hair the exact shade of blonde as you. He’ll do anything to get under your skin. you’ve had enough of his filthy mouth and his fuckboy ways. it’s time to tame that bratty little roommate of yours. think you can handle it?

27. sugarplum energy by @bymoonchild | f s a

- you know no bounds nor depth with jungkook. while your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on soundcloud. all’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. or, jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

28. ancient history by @moononthejoon | a s f

- there is no way to deny that you and jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

29. that’s not daddy by @nochuobsessed | f

- jungkook comes home with a new hair color and his sons can’t tell if he’s appa or not. pretty cute! 10/10

30. no title by @himbojk | s

- jk got a blowie from his oc while on a zoom class meeting, like cam on with a whole set up but his oc under the table sucking the life out of him while he sits and tries to take notes .

31. dilf jk by @himbojk | // s f

- dilf jk drabbles.

32. no title by @himbojk | s

- blond jk with full tattoo sleeve who looks like the baddest boy but is actually baby and just wants a handie in the library while studying with his oc because she aspires to have those high grades. 

33. no title by @noteguk | s

- bf!jungkook going down on the reader while they watch anime.

34. silent treatment by @blu-joons | f

- baby kook asking daddy kook to say sorry to mommy. 10/10 too!

35. getting railed by @dearlytea | s

- getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

36. the view by @koyamuses | s

- jungkook knows exactly what turns you on; every kink, every dirty fantasy that’s buried deep within your mind. he knows exactly how to make you beg for it.

37. let’s play: dirty by @jungkxook | f s

- on today’s stream, watch as the king of gaming jeon jungkook gets totally pwned by some newbie player on overwatch (he swears he was stream sniped)! to make matters worse, he can’t seem to focus anymore when you’re in the room but he promises that’s not because he’s in love with you or anything. use code ‘jungkook’ on any game purchase through steam at checkout for 25% off so that jungkook has something to feel better about! iloveyou btw!

38. more dilf!jk by @cutechim | s

- oc thirsting over jk, talk about finances, jungwoo is an innocent cock-block as infants are, disrespect towards a major film franchise. 

39. you are inherently beautiful by @ggukachuwu | f a

- when y/n and jungkook accidentally reveal their relationship to the public because she walked in on him doing a vlive and now netizens and kmedia are tearing apart her appearance because y/n is chubby from struggling with pcos. jungkook takes it upon himself to cheer her up because he absolutely adores her.

40. morning with jk by @min-arya | f

- jungkook drabble of him catching his s/o admiring him in the morning with soft sleepy cuddles.

41. even a forest fire dies out by @9uk | a s

- it became from “grab a coffee with me?” to “why should I grab a coffee with you?” too fast for your liking. you had thought the both of you were so in love with each other—only to realise it was only you who had fallen into this trap of feelings. and as for jungkook, he might have just been as confused as you are.

42. all that we had by @starlightauroras-writes | a s

- four years, two months and five days ago, you lost the love of your life with no explanation. living with a failed marriage at such a young age without knowing why was impossibly hard, and when you’re invited to your high school reunion, knowing he would be there, you really don’t want to go. what happens when you do leaves you questioning fate. 

43. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

44. contentment by @btsqualityy | f s 

- oc’s using jk’s card to buy rug and the rest is history. 10/10!!

45. heartbreaker with a heart of gold by  @filmflowersbangtan | a s

- love this!!! you know i love me some angst! 10/10!!!!!

46. the ikea test by @mercurygguk | f

- you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!

47. before you universe by @ephemeralkookie | // a f s

- jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?  

48. christmas cream(pie) by @smoochkooks | s f

-  a day before christmas dinner with your boyfriend’s parents, you discover another alternative way to use the chocolate cream you’re making. jungkook is more than willing to indulge in your little fantasy.

49. last minute by @moononthejoon | f s

- christmas day had gone by, and now you were back home after holidays with your family. your friends had agreed to have a late christmas party, but as always, you and jungkook procrastinated gift buying.

50. you go in knowing bros together by @blu-joons | f

- a cute fluffy knowing at knowing bros moment. 

51. no title by @v-hope | f

- the way y/n would react when someone else flirts with jk and how he’d handle the situation.

52. hair dye by @mercurygguk | f s

- jungkook got his hair dyed while at work. you lose your mind the moment he steps through the door.

53. stay gold by @yeojaa | s

- blond!jk being a good boy?

54. crystal snow by @honeyj00ns | f

- when you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous.

55. 6:21 am by @sincerelyourfangirl | f

- in which he makes your morning extra special.

56. plan b by @btsracket | s

- dressing room quickie, unprotected sex request, use of Plan b pill

57. possession by @bngtanah | s

- jungkook is your boyfriend, sometimes you have to remind him what that means.

58. puffs and touches by @mintseesaw | f s

- “Stop doing that with your face, someone else is going to snatch you up”

59. the quiet things by @btsracket | s

- sleeping bag sex.

60. good boy by @ephemeralkookie | s

- secret, read to find out AHAHAHHA.

61. make it right by @jungkxook | a s

- you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

62. it takes two by @junghelioseok | s

- struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.

jimin

1. picking petals by @cutechim | s 

- you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. 

taehyung

1. daddy by @btsracket | f s 

- there’s only one choice when this happens on a date out.

2. love me or we both go down by @gukyi | f s a

- after going through with an arranged marriage to please his parents and secure his inheritance of the family business, kim taehyung thinks he’s got it all figured out. he doesn’t. apparently just being married to you isn’t enough, not when everybody and their mother can pick up on the fact that the two of you absolutely loathe each other. but taehyung wants his inheritance one way or another, so he decides that desperate times call for desperate measures: the two of you need to fall in love, and you need to fall in love fast.

3. saudade by @jiminssthetic | a s f

- a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

4. ineffable by @99liners | f

- boyfriend taehyung takes care of his sick s/o.

5. tease by @caiuscassiuss | s

- you knew you were hot. you saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. and maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under kim taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

6. aquarium by @whatifyoulivelikethat | // a

- life after jeon jungkook was grey. you had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. but what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in kim taehyung’s hand.

got7

yugyeom

1. yugyeom as you boyfriend by @sunshinekookie | f

- i need more yugyeom fics in my life.

astro

eunwoo

1. rainy say saviour by @imsarahbum | f a

- upon seeing you getting bullied after school for being short, dongmin can’t help but step in and defend you - despite both of you not really knowing anything about each other.

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part one

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+ welps

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: happy new year ✨ and you know what that means? *wink wink* new layout for my oneshots hihi! ok you guys this took soooooo long to write ;-; i wasn’t satisfied with the first draft so i had to reboot everything! and i mean everything!! :3 so i had this specific genre in mind for a long time and i’m glad that someone requested at the same time while i was in the progress of writing it~ i should’ve posted this on christmas day but i was spending time with my family :D hope you understand hihihi anyway i’ll stop this here so you can enjoy reading! ~j

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

| part two | part three (final) |

jaehyun never reacted so quickly in his entire life, simultaneously spitting out the drink he consumed and eyes growing at the news his parents suddenly brought up. his neck ache at sudden twist. “what did you say?” he wiped the drips of coffee at the corners of his lips. his breathing intensified the more the silence passed.

mr. and mrs. jeong playfully sighed & exchanged looks as their son shouldn’t be this surprised regarding the topic. they have discussed about this when he turned eighteen. now twenty-three, he shouldn’t be so surprised or over-reactive about it either. 

“you heard your father,” mrs. jeong chewed her meal elegantly, yet giggles were still heard through closed lips. “you’re meeting her next week.”

he squinted with plenty of doubts filling his head, he was sure that there was still a year left. and to him that also meant he has exactly a year to convince his parents to call off the marriage he never asked for, let alone planned it. he still has a lot- correction, have yet to achieve in his mid-twenties and having a wife now would be slightly cutting his privacy short. 

in other words, the path to leisure he wished for after years of academics would divert to spending a life planned out for him. he had a diary and planner, and 

they were organised and well-thought out. but he had enough of his parents writing out his future for him, why couldn’t he write his own love story?

jaehyun was on his second last year of veterinary medicine, having some of the weight and pressure of academics lifted off his shoulders. of course he knew he still has to study, he just felt a little relaxed knowing that he would soon practice his dream career.

never had he expected that time flew and was going to meet his fiancé soon. 

his phone blinked with along with a message from his friends— mark and johnny. he briefly looked at the wallpaper of his long-time girlfriend of four years; she was the one who was on his mind. “nononono, i can’t get married now.” jaehyun’s panicking voice echoed the dining area, shoving the phone into his pockets.

mr. jeong raised a brow, placing his cup of coffee on the glass table. “relax, you’re not putting a ring on her finger yet.”

“‘yet’?!” the dimples on his face deepened as his cheeks bubbled. “mom, dad, i haven’t even met her!”

“hm? that’s why you’re spending the whole month at the countryside!” mrs. jeong exclaimed excitingly, and to jaehyun it seemed she was enjoying herself as if she were the one going there too.

“a month?! what am i going to do over there?!” 

“isn’t this great? we finally get to see you outdoors instead of a laptop and report papers! you need a break honey.” his mother clasped palms.

“ugh i can manage my time—”

“once you start working i’m pretty sure you won’t have the time to, jaehyun.”

since the love topic was brought up, his parents started to dig out their memories during their dating years. jaehyun groaned and massaged his temples, feeling uncomfortable with all the love stories he already heard or been told about. “did you forget that i have a girlfriend?” mumbling, he let out a deep, long sigh hoping they would hear him. and that failed miserably. his parents were in their own world. 

he shook his leg underneath the table and grew impatient with the duration of their conversation. “please, i’m begging you. i’ll get married in my own time and pace. sue and i are pretty much going to settle once we graduate-”

a certain ringtone perked his ears and his hands quickly pat his pockets to search his phone. he let out a sigh of relief, that his girlfriend psychologically read his mind and knew how much he wanted to get out of the dinner table, not to mention his parents’ overly attachment to one another. 

“sue you called! i was wondering if you want to hang out for a while.” his voice was high in spirits. but word has it when it reached its high, it would plummet to the ground shortly after. “hey, what’s wrong?” 

on the other line, just a call away from his girlfriend, was her held-in sob and whimper. “where are you right now? i’m coming to get you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun’s limbs shook in anger and slammed his fists onto the stirring wheel so hard that this time he promised himself he would move on. last week, she didn’t just break up with him— that was a call for farewell, something kept well hidden from him and all this time he didn’t know she felt the way she did for the years they’ve spent together. 

for a minute he wished this was all a dream, that conscious world would wake his slumber mind. it wasn’t. the reality pretty much awoke him and kept him up all night. he blinked several times, her words still numbing his hearing, wishing it was a lie... but he heard her loud and clear that night. 

“...you’ll always have a place in my heart.. but i’m really sorry..”

he grew speechless though his heart had millions of questions. the windows of his lips sealed closed no matter how much he wanted them to be answered. opposite from where he was at, he stared at the porch of her house, waiting for a silhouette to appear before him. instead a luxurious car pulled over and an unfamiliar man took his coat off to wrap around sue. that action didn’t hurt jaehyun, but it was sue’s smile of comfort that triggered his pain more. seemed like she knew this man given that she let him into her house, like nothing heartbreaking happened before this. 

the door closed and jaehyun’s teary eyes never left her residence until loud slams of swinging car doors opened on both sides of the passenger’s seats. “tsk.” he hissed and quickly rubbed the tears meaning to fall. him being seen crying would really make him a target for his friends, for not moving on. couldn’t risk being the attention more than he already was.

“goodness mark it’s not like we’re on vacation that you have to pack almost everything,” johnny threw one of mark’s duffle bags at the boy, earning a so-what kind of look from him. “we’ll only bring jae to the y/l/n’s then leave afterwards—”

screw this, jaehyun thought. by now he shouldn’t look too swollen to his friends. but screw mark for renting and living across from his ex’s house. 

“save your explanation john.” jaehyun growled and started the engine, fastening his while seatbelt the two continued their bickers. more of it was mark’s shallowness that pissed johnny.

“yeah, save your explanation john- ow!” mark gave the tall lad a death-gazing glare at the pain that stayed on his skin.

johnny leaned forwards, tapping the dimpled boy on the shoulder. “dude, you changed your mind?”

jaehyun scoffed, resting his left arm onto the window’s edge as he drove. “mom said i should be accompanied. i didn’t want you both to come but she’s so insisting it’s getting into my nerves.” 

“actually mrs. jeong said you might need us after your sudden breakup,” mark pressed the button. the window rolled up and down whereas him and johnny exchanged looks to try to liven up the mood in the car. “what are friends for, hm?”

“o-oh yeah. you’ll need us.. as in.. ‘sue’pport.” he nodded with a fake sob. soon mark bursted out in giggles and joined the wagon. 

“‘cause you lost your ‘sue’weetheart.” “she’s making you ‘sue’per emotional.” “we were ‘sue’prised she dumped you.” “but as your brothers, we ‘sue’wear we’ll be here—”

“ugh! i don’t know why mom suggested you to come but your side comments really aren’t helping at all—” jaehyun rolled his eyes regretting instantly at the pain afterwards.

his friends found him hilarious. they were laughing so hard that jaehyun couldn’t continue or interrupt their exploding voices. “since when did you need help, mr. leave-me-alone?” johnny took a huge leap from his seat to be beside the offended boy. “for all i know you’re the type who wants everything perfect, in control and planned.”

“nah dude, right now..” mark zipped his bag. “he needs help with love issues.”

“this has nothing to do with my love! and for the record, about the y/f/n’s? it’s arranged!” he lowered his cap and slid back slightly against the seat while the car was on idle. “do i need to spell it out for you?”

“that can change dude,” johnny slurped on his giant soda takeaway. jaehyun battered his eyes but was careful enough to not leave his sight off of the road. “who knows this fiancé of yours could meet your expectations. maybe more than sue could ever do.”

jaehyun’s mind clouded and still had the effects from the breakup. still so fresh. he didn’t want to believe it in fact happened; that it was all true. he was sure sue was the one for him. hearing his pals say it word per word only had it finally sunk in— she dumped him.

it terrified him in ways he couldn’t imagine, haunted him countless of nights because he failed her. he even bragged to his parents that he would marry her and slip a ring on her finger. thinking about it, how stupid was he to hold onto that hope?

he looked like an idiot, felt like one and his friends probably viewed the same. they said his fiancé could outstand sue? she was the perfect package! what more could he get?

he had her.

honks of the vehicles behind led jaehyun’s eyes trailing to the stoplight that emitted green. he pulled over and johnny knew he had to take his place. 

“here, let me drive. you’re not fit for driving. now, just be comfy back there, okay?”

—

hours later violent jolts of the car hit jaehyun’s cheek, regaining consciousness from his slumber just to witness the beautiful sunrise peeking from the horizon. he sat up, his posture trying to straighten to denumb nerves that held long during his sleep.

his playlist blasted the speakers. johnny had his legs on the dashboard and hummed with the music. mark was still sleeping peacefully like he hadn’t had a care in the world other than his precious bag of unfinished chips in his hands. 

he groaned at the discomfort of pulled muscles and the sudden break to the countryside. if johnny needed an hour intervals for the drive he could’ve said so, right? but now they were at the open road, greenery and fields merging together in one land. 

“what time is it? where are we and are we there yet? i’ll drive if what you do delays the journey.” jaehyun gestured him to move aside. “johnny, stop eating.” it was quarter to two.

“wha-? i’m hungry. hey, you’re the one who didn’t want to come and yet you’re rushing to get to the y/l/n’s?” johnny unwrapped his second burrito. “besides, we’re only five minutes away—”

“tsk ‘cause i need to piss real bad.” jaehyun was fidgety and panned the view before setting eyes on his friend. 

johnny felt a churn in his stomach as his cheeks bubbled. “oh gross! i’m eating dude! if you’re gonna piss then do it outside?!”

jaehyun shoved the burrito into johnny’s mouth to not speak anymore. “rather hold it in than for you to puke in my car!” he held his strength while johnny fought his way to breathe properly. “i won’t piss outside and there are cattles who feed on fields!”

“bruh stop lecturing me with your vet knowledge- ah!” johnny held his forehead from the sudden finger flicking.

“dude, it’s called common sense. now move aside!” he shooed the tall boy off the driver’s seat. jaehyun stepped on the gas, heading towards a small town entrance.

they finally reached a couple of stores & restaurants, surveying and asking its townsmen using your family name to locate your residence. maybe they would know which apartment or house you resided in. except that was the twist of their understanding. 

jaehyun and his boys were shocked to know how your family name plastered in posters and brand products displayed at open stores, but were more shocked to see the gazes from the people. 

a little over an hour, they managed to get hold of more information as they were told your house was ten minutes away from the town. jaehyun walked along the pavement to grab something to drink, only to be poked by a young man who was around the same age as they were.  

“hi.” he greeted the unfamiliar man. “i take it you’re looking for the y/l/n’s?”

he took a squint as he observed jaehyun from head to toe, circling around him. “uh-huh, you look like m’lady’s husband-to-be in the pictures.”

“e-excuse me?” jaehyun cleared his throat, seemingly unwilling to have this conversation going.

mark held his laugh per usual, it would take time to get used to jaehyun stumbling his words. 

because the engaged man really wasn’t ready at all. 

“yeap he’s the guy.” johnny popped the ‘p’ with a lollipop in his mouth. jaehyun rolled his eyes, taking the candy stick and tossing it away. he didn’t care about johnny’s scoffs.

the new young lad wore his motorcycle helmet. “sweet.” he prolonged the word. and that was when both mark and johnny lost it. they recalled the pun they entertain themselves with prior to arriving here.

“oh, i work with the town’s famous family,” he showed his i.d. wrapped around his neck. “you can follow me since i’m heading there too.” the three quickly twitched at his quick paced movement. “i’m kunhang by the way, but i’d rather be called hendery. it’s my professional name, it just sounds cooler.”

jaehyun furrowed his brows at the praise. “okay hendery, uhm famous? they’re big time?” he pointed at the posters holding your family name. “how so?”

hendery swung his face shield downwards. “you’ll see.”

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gallops of horses were drumming the entire farm. dust and dirt swirled with the wind in the air and it took a while for the boys to adjust their sights at the distance. hendery dropped a couple of spare boots for them to wear. jaehyun was in awe. horses were majestic animals and though he got to study them, he never seen such a number of them on the fields.

“oh goodness me our guest is here!”

they turned around to voice of a jolly lady, an apron on and folded cuffs from her clothing. “hello there! welcome! you must be jaehyun! my soon to be son-in-law!” she shook his hands and later pulled him for a hug. “oh you look just like your mother!”

“hi mrs. y/l/n. y-yeah, i get that a lot these days,” jaehyun scratched his head. “thanks for having us.” 

her eyes trailed at mark and johnny, and they too, were pulled in for a hug. “i see jaehyun brought along his handsome friends with him! do enjoy your stay here with us!” she caught a glimpse of a figure approaching the crowd. “c’mere baby and meet the boys!”

jaehyun looked over his shoulder, lips parting and exhaled a short breath. she seemed young, she has a pretty face but obviously still in high school. what the? oh g- i’m marrying you?

“pfft no ew. i’m not getting married to you. i’m only 17.” she let out a chuckle, almost sarcastic enough for jaehyun to explode.

crap i said it unconsciously.

your mother lightly slapped her arm. “marg, where’s your sister?” she asked. “i told her to specifically come at the barn 1600.”

“she took jet for a ride. ‘detour’ she said, but i guess she’s on her way here.” she replied and mark choked on his water bottle. marg rolled her eyes. “green minded ass-”

“language marg!” hendery flicked her forehead, the latter held the pain. “the rudeness. sorry, kiddo here is the family’s baby. you’ll see the eldest daughter soon- oh! right on time m’lady!” he waved his hands up high.

jaehyun didn’t know what pissed him off more; one was at himself for being starstruck and in awe at you after his breakup, and two? 

the beautiful black horse you were riding on didn’t seem to be halting. it was trotting at first. you were on its saddle. he squinted his eyes, were you smirking? unbelievable. he thought you were doing this on purpose. no, you were really going to run him over. 

he noticed a change in speed, trotting then galloping on dirt. the sounds of it matched with the beatings of his rising heart. jaehyun took a step back, then it became more than one, until he was worried that he would end up being chased. there were couple of gasps and reminders of voices. he fell on his bum with palms hitting the ground as he breathed heavily, eyes still on you.

the horse listened to your rein, it let out a loud neigh with its front legs heavenwards. your laugh merged with it. “whoa- hey, easy jet, easy.” you cooed the animal, soon removing your helmet and hair flowed like those in shampoo commercials. “i think he got the message.”

jaehyun sat there dumbfounded, his brows drew together. what message? you were centimetres from killing him- wait. he saw you turn cold and your smile disappearing.

bingo! he got it. he knew the reason why you did this. 

you were against the arranged marriage too.

johnny leaned into mark’s ear, who had his hands cupping his lower face. “bro, jet’s a horse so stop giggling and clean your mind.” 

“dude i’m not laughing at that. just look at jae. i’ve never seen him so helpless.” he cackled a laugh. 

once your feet were on the ground, he finally got a better look on you. you were wearing a light wooled grey sweater with denim blue jeans. your hair now on one side and boots stained with dried mud. you took off your gloves to put your hand out for a handshake, one rested around your helmet. “hi, i’m y/n.” you greeted with a smile, ensuring it was fake enough for jaehyun to notice. 

“quite of an entrance.” jaehyun dusted his jeans and groaned at the exerted strength as he stood. “jeong jaehyun. veterinary medicine student..” he was about to grab your hand until you shoved yours into the pockets of your jeans. 

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed with warning. “your manners-” she clamped her lips when you put up a hand, eyes darting at her later at him.

“alright, okay. look mr. i didn’t ask for your field of study and i don’t need to know or do anything with you.”

jaehyun crossed his arms, a fake smile plastered on his face. what an attitude. “apparently you will? because i’m here for the next thirty days.”

“is that so?” you hummed and jaehyun didn’t like how you singsonged.

he knew something was coming and sometimes he thought it was best to keep quiet instead of letting his annoyance towards you spark up. “good, that means you’re helping me out with everything i do here.” he heard you say. “and do things i tell you to.”

“what?” his eyebrows snapped, and for you it was quite entertaining to see this reaction from him. following the trail of your footsteps, jaehyun stomped on wet soil as he stood before you. “hey you can’t just order me around like i’m your staff!”

“of course i can, you’re in my property-” you gestured the land.

“no, it belongs to your parents.” the tone of his voice irked you. he was grinning too.

“i can do whatever i want and choose whenever to help. i’ll only listen orders from mr. and mrs. y/l/n if they want me to do work..” he trailed off, your mother waving at him with admiration— typical as she saw him like an long lost son. “..but i guess not. my mom did say i needed a break from studying too much and she’s totally right. i must be pardoned from labour.”

it was your turn to cross arms and give him a lop-sided smile. the audacity of this man. you felt like ripping all your hair out. “you think staying here would prevent you from doing labour, your highness? sitting on your throne all dignified and at peace? well guess what, just because you’re a guest that doesn’t mean you get to be treated differently-”

you heard him bubble out a forced snicker. what was it this time? “of course it’s different! i am the guy you’re betrothed to-”

“i won’t allow it.” your jaw tightened with lips in a hard line. “a person like you is not worth my time and definitely not someone i’d want to marry.”

he pursed his lips. “wow do people ever tell you how bad of a host you are? you just don’t go shoving assumptions into people’s faces for your own entertainment. we’re humans.”

“i’m only rude to you. and yeah, people are humans. but you’re the devil’s incarnate.” you pulled jet’s reins and led him to the stables in which jaehyun observed how you gave that same smirk from earlier. “see if you’ll enjoy your stay here, hubby.” 

jaehyun clenched his fists and was sure little crescent moons already indented his palms. he only wanted sue to call him that. yet that was useless, they broke up. your face remained in his head and anger filled him up, now boiling so much that he felt a little lightheaded arguing with someone like you. 

he wanted to yell but johnny and mark sandwiched him between them with hendery walking in front. “tsk it’s only the first day and i want to go home.” he scrunched his nose. 

hendery had his palms behind his head, lips jutting to hold his grin. “m’lady—” he corrected himself. “y/n’s not usually like that. it’s a first seeing her so cranky and hotheaded.”

“really? how is she usually like?” mark asked with curiosity. “she seems cool because she smiled at johnny and me before the tables.. y’know, turned.” he shrugged with implications towards jaehyun.

“not cranky and not hotheaded.” hendery opened the door to your house, showing them to the large living area. “a lil’ different today but i tell you, our y/n is a professional equestrian. she’s passionate with what she does and—”

“a horse rider?! passionate?!” jaehyun hissed as he took off his shoes and brown coat, kicking it slightly to the side and hung it on the wall respectively. “she almost killed me!”

johnny hit the back of jaehyun’s head and clicked his tongue. “snap out of it jae, you’re overreacting. we’re at your future in-law’s residence and i think it’s a bad idea to badmouth their daughter.” 

only a low groan escaped out of jaehyun as he refused to listen. “look, first impressions don’t always hit off a good start. but thinking how you both don’t have a say to this arranged marriage, your feelings towards each other are totally understandable.”

jaehyun pressed the bridge of his nose as he took in his friend’s words. if what johnny said was true, was it right for him to begin holding grudge on you on the first day? you barely knew each other. clearly he knew you hated him, yet if his parents were here and saw the whole thing, they’d ask: why risk the chance of not trying? and again, he remembered he was told, people can change. 

—

throughout dinner, he got to know what your family business was and why it was well-known. he didn’t ask questions, they were just told to him like they were comfortable with it. they weren’t bragging either. perhaps it was due to the fact jaehyun would soon be part of this family that they told him the entire story. 

you didn’t show up during the hour and honestly it got jaehyun feeling so much relief since he wouldn’t have to deal with another useless argument. he disliked wasting time and preferred to do this schedule accordingly, so remembering it only made him rage inside. he was glad he wouldn’t have to deal with you tonight. 

except that relief was shortlived. you had to appear right when he thought of you.

great.

he tried to fix himself in his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, averting his gaze upon you while your mother continuously slapped you light on the arms. you probably finished your bath, given that you still have a towel wrapped around your head and a.. robe.

“y/n! have some courtesy! we have guests!” your mother warned as she gestured in front to cover you, apologising to the new boys. hendery immediately stepped in as well, his eyes shutting to a close and pushing you back to the bottom of the staircase. 

“but mom! i’m hungry and there might not have any cookies left if you keep giving it to them-” you were cut off with hendery’s pats.

he brushed his hair. sighing, he had to shoo you away because you were clearly attracting eyes, definitely not the decent kind. “i have a jar prepared for you m’lady so please.. get dressed!”

you quickly ran up as you were told, mumbling and complaining. jaehyun and his friends were definitely at a loss for words. because not only were you careless, you were oblivious too. 

mark scrunched his nose to start a conversation with jaehyun. “looks like she called you ‘hubby’ too quickly.” he closed his lips to contain his laugh. 

“pfft jae your ears really are honest huh?” johnny pointed at them as he held his chest, fistbumping mark for another win. 

he wasn’t going to tell them that he in fact did find you pretty, and the thing was, he shouldn’t be giving a reaction too soon. “it’s the spicy chocolate cookie!” jaehyun defended.

“huh, i didn’t bake any cookie with those flavour-” hendery pondered, but he stopped since he spotted jaehyun begging to help him here.

“you know that we know if you’re lying right?” the two squinted eyes, putting more pressure to the boy to admit what he felt when he saw you earlier. “bet ya felt something.”

afraid that your family could hear them, jaehyun grabbed their shoulders to huddle them in close. he cleared his throat to catch their attention, yet his friends continued their giggles. “i swear if you both embarrass me in front of the y/f/n’s, consider the days with your precious.. phones.”

“ah c’mon dude. don’t do that. we bought our i12’s together-” mark whined.

“then at least help me out here guys. i have a reputation to hold-” 

“oh for being her hubby?” johnny gave a playful grin and soon was replaced with a nervous smile. “okay i’ll zip it.”

he heard your mother facetiming his mom, voices loud enough for him to know that there would be a huge gathering at christmas eve dinner. great, another one i have to deal with.

jaehyun put down his beanie and crossed his arms to snooze for a bit. he had too much going on in his head the whole day that maybe sleeping it off would let him calm down from all feelings he felt tonight. on the sofa, the weight beside him lowered, the scent of freshly baked cookies along with lavender perfume got him peeking under his beanie. 

it was you, who looked like a squirrel happily munching away with your jar of cookies whilst eyes glued to the television.

he smiled a little to himself. so you can have this cute side-

fragments of sue’s face appeared in his mind. right. he was supposed to be heartbroken. he still was. a week into the breakup had remains to his heart. bothered with sue’s ultimatum and your annoying munches, he grabbed your wrists and out at the veranda.

it pissed him because it seemed like he was the only one who cared about both of your futures or actually would do something to change your families’ minds, where as you were carefree with your cookies. “hey!” you held the jar tight in your arms as you quickly slid your feet into your slippers. “rude! i’m eating!”

the rest of the people in the dining and kitchen area grew voices of woohoo’s, jaehyun’s pupils flared at their cheers. “just come with me for a second!” he hissed, turning the knob and closing the door.

“seriously jaehyun you can’t just ruin my happy time! what do you want-”

he looked in between the curtains from the outside, where he could faintly hear his friends talking the embarrassing things about him— especially how he felt for this arrange marriage. “aren’t you pressured or angry at the situation our parents have put us into?” he leaned against a column. “even my friends are joining the wagon.”

you cackled whilst scrolling your phone. “here i thought you only cared about animals, dr. jeong.” hearing how jaehyun scoffed at your comment, you shoved your device in your pockets. “and yes of course i’m mad! what they decided is so against my will.”

jaehyun stared at you and surprised that he actually felt exactly the same. “really? then let’s make a pact. sounds good?” he offered with arms folded while you still were occupied with your phone. “well?”

“why would i listen to you? as far as i know, we already clashed and hate each other.” you rolled your eyes. “what makes you think i’ll agree?”

he sighed. “y/n, i know you don’t want this, i don’t too. at least there’s something we have in common. i’m just thinking that we have to show them we’re not meant to be together. we both have lives we want to live without the other.”

there was a change in his voice. you could tell he was serious and trying to suggest something he’d want you to agree on. “fine, what’s the pact?” you gave an uninterested tone. probably a bad idea, you thought.

“like you said, ‘clash and hate each other’. we have exactly twenty four days to convince them that you, me, us?” he pointed at his chest then yours. “is impossible. twenty four days, it’s until the night of christmas eve.”

actually that’s not bad at all. “hm, that’s easy since i can’t stand you.” you said, now standing up to face him. “even better if we can do this in less than 24.”

“cool, we have to make our fights as natural as possible. no signals or heads-up. full-on make me angry and i’ll do the same. the more we argue the more they’ll believe there’ll never be an ‘us’.” his voice a bit lively than before. “i want my buds to be fooled into this too. just be realistic and- nghf!”

you shoved a huge cookie into his mouth. “tsk, you’re noisy. i get you so shut up. i agreed with the pact, but i have conditions, okay?”

jaehyun nodded as he chewed angrily with his eyes closed, though the cookies’ taste might’ve simmered down his temper towards you. “ha, then i have conditions too-”

“see you in the morning.” he heard you say as the door slammed with the attached bell ringing his ears. 

now that was one of his conditions; no interrupting while he talks. he sighed seeing you head up the stairs. he sighed. “ugh, i can never marry a girl like her.”

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stretching as high as you can, the muscles loosened in every part of your body from riding yesterday. the sun shone its brightest despite the cold weather. you remembered the pact and you knew you would not let a day pass without bothering him. somehow his existence annoyed you to the bone, not even words were enough to explain how you felt. 

at the farthest point your peripheral could reach, you spotted jaehyun peacefully— and actually enjoying— the hammock whilst faintly you heard mark and johnny debating which pronunciation was the correct one. fixing your boots as you walked towards them, the two scurried off to the side, noticing the stomps of your feet getting closer. 

“get up.” you wriggled the hammock, causing it to be lop-sided. 

jaehyun managed to balance himself from the swings. “what the-” his voice hitched. “you’re ruining my relax time!”

you pretended to ponder as you looked up to the sky. “hm, sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?” referring to his sudden action towards you the night prior.

“seriously y/n what do you want? i’m in no mood to do work today and i clearly told you last night-” jaehyun fixed his eyes onto your finger that silenced his lips.

jaehyun raised a brow and rolled his eyes. what was your deal? he thought. “condition number one.” you started, bringing your voice down. “starting today you’ll do the work for me and with me. considering you’re taking veterinary science, i’m guessing you know your ways through equine husbandry. so in the coming days you can check the horses’ health while i practice my rounds.”

ah, so that’s what this was about. “uh-huh, but my condition number one is you shouldn’t make me do labour unless you really need it.” jaehyun got off the hammock, chugging his glass of water like it’s one-shot. “it’s the first light, y/n. my service starts in the afternoon.”

“i see. you’re not a morning person.” you checked your nails.

“i so am! but it’s my month long vacation. let me enjoy this before i experience exploitation from you.” he forced a smile that made you want to push him off the veranda.

you walked down the steps and straight to the barn opposite from your house. “it’s either exploitation today or exploitation for the whole month.” you singsonged while you twirled in your stance. hearing him growl meant your tactic worked. “i’ll let you experience the beauty of country side, city boy.”

jaehyun’s brows narrowed as he followed you anyway, later looking back at his friends who were stifling a laugh. “did you just compare me to feces first thing in the morning?”

“did you just boggle up my brain with scientific terms?” you hid a giggle when you heard his friends finally bursting out and losing it. because they too, experienced jaehyun’s sudden blabber of uncommon usage of words, especially conversational-wise. “i made a pun but it seems like you acknowledge the nickname.”

“i did not!” jaehyun pressed his temples. “i may have misheard you but i didn’t acknowledge it! you’re too assuming!”

“mhm sure.. but you are stepping on one though.” you whistled and gestured mark and johnny to the stables.

jaehyun grumbled as he checked the soles of his shoes. indeed he stepped on it and licked his lips in annoyance that it’d be hard to clean it off. the door opened and hendery’s morning face only turned sour at the unsightly view. he tossed another pair of spare boots for him to wear before they both headed to where you all were. 

hendery introduced the things they do here; feed the horses, fix their saddles  repair them if damaged. they were minor things since your family did hire people to do them. and since you and him were professionals in equine sports, he mentioned you both spend all days practicing. 

good, if it was you who toured him around the area, he wouldn’t think lasting a day with your intentions of ruining his mood. though it was part of the pact, it seemed like you enjoyed this a lot more than he expected. hendery brought him to places your family owned, land properties that expanded until the mountains. it’s no wonder you were free to roam around and unafraid of getting lost. 

you made him do a lot. and he was glad he was able to handle, thank heavens. however he didn’t feel much of a challenge from any of them, where you claimed they were ones he couldn’t do. jaehyun lost track of time, the sky was his only companion to tell the hours and probably lost count of the tasks too. all he could remember was the endless bickering, yells and frequent eye rolls. 

in all those, he still let you off the hook— first day of work and all, he has to be patient. and he wasn’t bothered with what you tasked him to do, until his friends stood behind you as you showed them the rest of the horses. 

after you told him to move the bundles of hay he thought was the last, you were currently trying to make mark pet the horses as they were bobbing their heads towards the young man while johnny recorded his reaction. 

“isn’t she all well now.” jaehyun rolled his eyes as he helped hendery lift the infinite bundles. “my friends get the leisure and i have to work?”

hendery laughed as he unbuttoned his collar. “she was told by her mom that you’ll be in her care since you both will get married eventually. plus mrs. y/f/n said it’s a way to get to know y/n too.” he explained, seeing you walk towards them with a hay cart, hands signalling your childhood friend to get some bundles from you. the final bundles were finally fed to the horses, and you skipped your feet to fetch jaehyun.

jaehyun knew you had intentions to make fun of him because the way you walked really pissed him off. so he decided to have his fun too. ”are you that weak you’re unable to carry a small patch? guess my hourly pay needs an increase.” he low-key flexed his muscles. truthfully speaking it was a sight to look at, too bad his attitude didn’t match it.

you rested on one leg while you look at him. he was testing the waters with you, smile slowly resurfacing as you gave even the slightest reaction towards him. oh it’s on. he annoyed you yesterday and would be a lot more in the next coming days. jaehyun leaned forwards that he was towering over you. his body made you feel small but that didn’t stop you from getting back at him.

“the only thing increasing for you is workload.” you hummed, putting back the cart into its place.

he glared at you as if you were dead meat. you ignored him. “i’ve had enough for today. muscles are sore.” hands in his pockets, jaehyun kicked the remains of hay off his shoes before he was stopped by you. “ugh you’re so annoying.” he clicked his tongue. 

“nope, you’re not done until i am. we have to find materials for christmas wreaths at my grandpa’s up north.” you pointed at the mountains as you took hendery’s hands and soon mounted on jet with him.

“oh and i’m supposed to walk there while you’re so relaxed miss bossy?” jaehyun shook his head in disbelief looking at the distance.

“uh yes?” you laughed to yourself. “i don’t think you’ve ever ridden a horse before, but if ever you did, it’s probably at a carnival.”

sudden outbursts of emotions evident on his face now. “was i born under a rock? of course i’ve ridden!” he took the reins given to him by hendery. “and it’s not a carousel!”

for a while he had a certain confidence, his soles stepping on the stirrup and dimples deepening with the strength he gave to put his right leg over. but once that was done and high up off the ground, his heart beat an army per second. cash, hendery’s horse gave loud neigh. jaehyun had done this before as a child and definitely felt like one now. he should be able to handle a 30-minute journey.

jaehyun heard you giggling, perhaps he knew how hideous he looked. despite hendery seated behind you, you led the way for the most part of the ride. you were surprised to see jaehyun have gotten the hang of it. it pissed you a lot because he was vlogging with his phone— sputtering out words to keep the diss battle going. johnny and mark hopped on the available bikes, cycling on your sides, and their laughter rather calmed you than annoy you. 

it pissed you a lot more because you’ve practically ran out of ideas to tell him in return. keeping quiet wasn’t your forte, you were a young woman with plenty of things to say, even more so to jaehyun. going through the woods, you signalled hendery to halt the horse for you and the rest of the boys followed you to gather the materials needed. 

“this shouldn’t be too long to take.” jaehyun looked at the trees towering meters above him, then straight to you who was shaking head in disbelief. “we’re just taking the materials at your grandfather’s and head back, right?”

“did i mention my granddad?” you balanced yourself on large wood log. the tone of your voice started to warm up with bickers you weren’t able to tell him. 

“you did!” jaehyun anticipated this and somehow he didn’t. “now lead the way to his place and we can get the hell out of here.” his eyes grew squints of disgust at his surroundings, as if he hadn’t been into the forest before. his friends went on ahead with hendery around the woods to look for what’s needed.

“nah, we’re picking acorns, pine cones, berries and other leaves by hand. his cottage is just around here but that doesn’t mean the materials are from him. let’s go, whiney.” 

“oh my g-” jaehyun pulled you on the arm and off you went towards him. “y/n i’ve had enough for today and i’m so tired of taking your orders- i’m physically tired of doing things your way and i can’t think straight-”

“pecans?” you said as his eyes crossed to see your palms full of the shelled nuts. “you’re hungry, aren’t you? that’s why you’re so cranky and agitate-y.” placing one but onto a flat rock, you smashed it strong enough for it to crack yet not totally destroying the inside. you popped one into your mouth and gave the most taunting grin jaehyun has seen from you all day. 

he was about to grab the rest of the nuts until you swung your arm that he wasn’t able to reach them. “y/n! give me some!” he yelled and the rest of your friends look at you both after hearing you laugh in the most evil manner.

“never!” you scurried off deeper into the woods. jaehyun rolled his eyes not at how fast you were, but due to how slow he actually was because of the amount of disgust he had.

he knew this would take all day and he didn’t know how long his patience can take for another three weeks with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun couldn’t describe in words with what he experienced since arriving. if he had to compare with school, it was similar to studying and cramming for hours non-stop. it gotten him mentally exhausted, physically too. but the only difference between being cooping up in his room and doing work outdoors was the continuous nagging from you. 

it was far from quiet. he could handle his mom’s high pitched yells. but you? anything that came from you or done by you made him want to plaster a duck tape on your lips. you were as annoying as a five year old child who looked for someone vulnerable to bully. unfortunately he became your prey because he was in your lands. and though there were times he was able to banter back, he always felt you still had the upper hand.

it was all sunny and good days out in the countryside and jaehyun found that fact the only bright side. he enjoyed it every single morning. yet sometimes good sunny mornings meets its bad, that is, when grey clouds destroyed the beauty of the sky. in this case, it was you. you were far from his dream girl— sue. she was elegant, poised and had a heart of gold. you were the complete opposite who’d rather be rogue and do things your way. other than completing ten christmas wreaths and feeding the horses or more farm work, he couldn’t remember what he did for the past eight days because all that entered his mind was the dictator you. 

but today he felt different, maybe things wouldn’t be as hard than last week. he felt good. he sat at the long dining table with all morning faces exposed. it was currently 7 a.m and your mom have already prepared breakfast. and per usual, you were the only one they waited for before they start the first meal. 

“marg, is your sister still asleep?” your mother put down a large casserole to warm up everyone’s stomach in winter. 

marg only shrugged because for one, she didn’t care, and two, she stated that it wouldn’t be her doing this since jaehyun was marrying you. “oh jaehyun. please do head upstairs to her room and awake y/n up.”

“and why do i have to do this?” jaehyun mumbled to himself and johnny nudged him on the arm. he groaned and got up, his stomps were heavy and unwilling. 

once he was in front of your door, he knocked twice loudly so he wouldn’t have to spend so much time to get you. there was a small tune playing in your room, like it was from a music box. the door was already opened. he peeped through the thin gap, seeing you still sleeping soundly. goodness’ sake, he thought, and entered the room since your mother was asking if he woken you up. 

your room was in fact, neat. all things were organised and arranged. if there was one thing he learned from you other than being an ass, was that you loved stuffed animals. not a hint of dolls or barbies or any toy displayed related to that spectrum. two lines of medals displayed and they all shone in gold. plaques had your names and young portraits of you with smiles of victory. hendery wasn’t lying when he said you were a professional. he wasn’t going to lie— you were impressive despite the little horns coming out of your head.

he stood next to your bed where you were all bundled in a huge blanket. he raised a brow, it was strange for you to have two thick blankets covering you. “hey y/n.”

no response. 

“y/n. wake up, your mom is calling for breakfast and you’re usually the first one seated at the table.” he wriggled your body with the butt of the umbrella and you didn’t budge.

“she baked croissants and aren’t they your favourite? dipped in chocolate ganache and sprinkles?” he tried sounding happy. note that, he tried.

this girl.. he bit the insides of his lips, spotting the markers in a cylinder container and took one to begin drawing on your face. his soft giggles filled your room and the strong scent of markers met your nostrils, waking you from your slumber. 

“what the he- jaehyun?!” you hissed at how close his face was to yours, failed to realising he was done drawing on your morning skin. “get away from me!”

everyone downstairs could hear the both of you, arguing like cats and dogs. each footstep might’ve covered the entire floor above them and the ceiling could give in. 

“you ruined my morning with your ugly face!” “what?! you’re more ugly, ugly!” “you entered my room?! you have no rights!” “breakfast’s ready and your mom asked me to!” “well my nose could’ve smelled mom’s food but i smelled your stinky breath instead!”

“whatever, i finished your share of croissants!” jaehyun quickly head down the staircase.

“you dare eat my food?!” you still had a blanket from head to toe as you followed him down. “no one takes my food!”

“your loss since you’re still in bed you lazy ass!” jaehyun sat beside johnny and continued his meal. “and you were snoring loud too-”

“i did not- agh!” you grumpily sat and immediately eyed the last croissant sitting at the center of the table. all eyes were on you with black ink scribbled on your face. 

there was an awkward silence then you felt jaehyun’s stare at the only food you wanted for breakfast. there was a back and forth battle of stares between you, him and the food. maybe it was the slow reflexes you have in mornings that jaehyun took the bread before you did. he stuck out a tongue as he deliciously ate half of it, chewing slowly just to let you imagine the flavours of sweet silky chocolate. you could feel yourself drooling and the cravings of your stomach rising up to your throat. every chew he did was a stab to your guilty-pleasure heart. 

jaehyun stopped and gave a smug grin. “you wanted this y/n?” his question sounding a song rather than an honest one. “all you have to do is beg.”

you gulped, rolling your eyes. “shut up!” you kicked his knee out of jealousy and savoured the soup instead. 

“ow!” he hissed through a laugh and looked at your mom. “mrs. y/f/n, i’d like to know the recipe for this. do you give lessons?” jaehyun licked the remains of chocolate around his lips, hopefully it was enough to cover up the violence you did under the table.

your mother giggled at his sweet talk. “why learn it from me when you have y/n to teach you?”

you choked on your soup and tear your gaze away from jaehyun to your mother, where she was already enjoying your shocked reaction. “oh give me a private lesson, bulldog terrier.” he propped his chin and mimicked clicks as if he was calling animal.

you quickly touched and rubbed your face to see the ink contaminate your fingers. the spoon reflected the dark circle around your right eye. “oh my g- you! this will be hard to remove!” the fork around your hand pointed directly at him. 

“y/n!” hendery put down your wrists as jaehyun laughed loud. you took the wet wipes marg gave you and whined a little whilst you stood by the mirror behind jaehyun.

“don’t be so bummed out honey.” your mom assured, giving a wink to jaehyun. “it’s a small prank. marg did it to you before.”

checking yourself for the last time at the mirror, you rolled your eyes. “i have enough patience for marg,” with one hand you cupped jaehyun’s lower face from the chin spreading to the cheeks, soon pinching hard on his dimples with a pointer finger and thumb. “but none for the human bread.”

“ow don’t touch me!” jaehyun swifted his head to look at you and he saw you flashed a smile like you were satisfied. 

“a human bread with molds. ew, i lost appetite so i’ll be out for a ride.” you stood up to grab your coat. “see ya ugly.”

“remember to you have to clean the barn house y/n!” your mom called out.

“yeah got that!”

johnny and mark bent their heads down and let their friends suffer from multiple dots on his faces. what made it funnier was that jaehyun munched happily on his meal, hadn’t gotten a single clue. he then eyed you when you passed the window and straight to the stables. “isn’t it too early for practice?” he drank his cup of hot chocolate. 

“she can ride all day. sometimes she doesn’t arrive home and the next morning you see her sleeping in the barn house.” marg tied her hair into a high bun. “the amount of dedication is there, except the passion she used to have isn’t really there anymore- hey!” she glared at hendery who gave her a warning look. 

what was that all about? jaehyun thought while his eyebrows met together and good thing it wasn’t obvious to your family. he was indeed curious, but he’d rather hear it from you than to look like a jerk who wanted to gossip about personal lives. the thing was, it’s you. though majority of the week was him suffering with workload, he liked to bicker with you until you gave up and had nothing to say. 

so far he recorded as 5-11 in terms of owning the other. the latter was his score and he was proud of it.

hendery’s phone vibrated and slid it to jaehyun’s place. jaehyun blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the phone. a sigh came out of his lips and the rest of them could tell it was another order from you. “ooh that doesn’t sound good.” mark slurped his soup. 

“it’s not.” jaehyun brushed his hair and hesitation slowly crept his body. “she asked me to clean the upper floor of the barn by the time she arrives.”

—

jaehyun massaged his wrists by twisting them. he looked at the barn house’ entrance because he noticed a figure approaching. you’ve had the best morning after jaehyun ruined it. as you rode, nothing beats the freshness of the cool wind. you love riding through the woods and grasslands. it sets you free from everything keeping you caged. your smile began to falter when you saw jaehyun who was not even halfway close to finishing. “you’re late. your mom had to apologise on your behalf because i’m doing the job for you.”

“ooh thanks! i’ll count on it!” you laid comfortably on a chair.

“hey!”

you leaned against the furniture, arms crossed where he was a floor above and standing at your 2 o’clock view. “dr. jeong it looks like you’re having a hard time. need help?” you stifled a laugh because he still has the ink marks you left on his face.

“on with the assumptions again, aren’t we?” he fixed his gloves and moved wooden planks from one place to another. 

“yeah you make yourself too easy of a target, jaehyun. and i thought you’re the type to not take things seriously.” you tied jet’s reins to a pole.

“you’re forgetting my condition number two, you can only badmouth me if the others are around. now get your flat butt up here and move the tool box aside so i can continue what i’m doing.” he grunted whilst lifting. 

dusting your pants, you were now standing a storey high. the sight of the height below you made you sick. jaehyun nudged your arm and you took the items blocking his way. you sighed and he noticed how fidgety you were. he put up a small smile. his entertainment from you didn’t end at the breakfast table. 

he scooted closer to you, pretending to bump into you with the pile of tall wooden planks in his arms. he heard you hiss, and that was the signal to begin. “oops didn’t see you there shorty.” there was a change in his voice, a more aggressive type of approach. 

“you’re doing that on purpose.” you checked the pained area of your forearm.

“what if i’m not? it could be an honest mistake.” he tilted his head away from the wood to see you.

a held-in soft disbelief laugh came out of your lips. “honesty doesn’t really blend in well with you.” 

jaehyun gasped with arched brows. “wow i’m very offended— you think this face..” he largely gestured himself. “would ever lie?”

“if you want to hear me saying you’re handsome.. it’s not happening.“ you took the rope to hang on a nail. 

“but you did say it.” he singsonged and you could push him off the loft but that could only happen in your head. 

“then that’s an honest mistake.” you flashed a forced smile at him. you carried the boxes stacked upon one another. “if you have a huge ego like that i bet you never dated. no girl would ever date you.” 

jaehyun fell silent, his mood to bash you suddenly changed. the shifts in his steps became heavier and as if he was putting his anger upon them. he didn’t like being reminded of sue, even if you unconsciously did so. “can’t you just keep quiet as you work? do you always have something to say? keep your damn mouth shut if you think all the fun you get is from belittling people.”

“okay sheesh sorry i didn’t know you have a heart for people too.” you removed your helmet to relieve the discomfort from it. 

as time passed— two hours to be exact, the more your guilt begin to seep in you. jaehyun never spoke after that. silence was like death at this point. not a hint of sniffs and sighs from him. did you go too far that he actually chose not to talk anymore? all you thought about was the pact he suggested. what now? anyone could appear any moment. 

this wasn’t like you at all. you hesitated to talk to him and to give the first move to bicker. you stood there staring at him piling boxes after boxes and sweeping the floor where dust accumulated like piles of sand. you bit your lips because screw this, you hated this atmosphere, you hated this silent treatment. “j-jaehyun?” you called out.

nothing. 

“hey-”

“hm? guilt eating you up now?” you froze at his voice as he chuckled. “it has, hasn’t it? look at your face!” he was laughing, his hands holding his ballooning stomach. “y/n you should’ve seen yourself!”

your gaze followed his hands that quickly took his phone placed at one corner. he was recording and your obliviousness blinded you. “oh you have no idea how much i wanted to laugh! my cheeks hurt so bad! hahaha!”

“you’re not using that to blackmail me!” you strided towards him.

he put his arm high as you struggled to reach it. “i might as well do that thanks for the idea!” faintly you heard his friends coming to check as to why their friend had the laughter of the century, only to find you both bickering again like this morning.

“delete that video jaehyun! i mean it!” “not until you agree to clean the loft!” “that’s like telling me to do everything!” “then that’s exactly what i’m telling you to do!”

johnny put up his phone to recording the struggling you and jaehyun enjoying his time to take advantage of his height. “dude i’ve never seen jaehyun this happy since sue broke up with him.”

“yeah his dimples are legit showing it’s scary me.” mark squinted at the two of you.

jaehyun swung his arms to avoid your attempted catches. he scrunched his nose and although that was undeniably cute, you couldn’t afford to feel humiliated for another two weeks. “jaehyun please delete it!”

“it’s not convincing enough you know?” “stop joking around we could fall!” you hissed. “fall?! then stop trying to get my phone!” “then put down your ridiculously long arm!” “yours are just too short!” “i swear— delete the footage!”

“you have to sound like you beg for it—” he cackled and with a few stretches you managed to reach his wrists as you lunged forwards. “oi stop!” that one last reach only made jaehyun lose his balance and fell backwards. 

and all you heard were yells of worry.

to say that you both gladly fell on soft pillows of hay was an understatement. at least that what it looked like to your friends. jaehyun was shocked, his arm felt numb. he took a good look at you and there you were laying on his arm with pale lips. “hey, you okay?” his hands were already out to help you. “y/n—”

“m’lady!” hendery rushed to you, causing jaehyun to flinch at the tone of his voice. he gently took your right arm, but you gritted your teeth and asked him to take the left. “painful?”

“not that serious.” you said, feeling the stares from jaehyun. “ew don’t look at me like that. i’m fine, really. let’s just call it a day.” you gave a small smile and he wasn’t buying it.

because jaehyun saw you clung onto hendery for dear life. 

[moonbeamsung]

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele​ @kisshim​ @radiorenjun​

network tags: @kpopscape​ @neo-constellations​ @starryktown​ @culture-cafe​ @dreamlab-nct​

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

[miracleonice87]

’tis the damn season

an Auston Matthews song fic

a/n: based on the absolute masterpiece that is ’tis the damn season by Taylor Swift from evermore. This one was not on my WIP list but came over me as soon as I heard the song when the album dropped. also have no idea how it became my longest piece yet, by far (as in 12k+ whoops). obviously, I do not own any of the music/lyrics to this song nor any other I write about.

summary: Auston Matthews and his ex-girlfriend are reunited in their hometown years after their difficult breakup.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, allusions to sex, a delicate balance of angst and fluff. a bit of a slow burn, if you want to call it that.

_____

You might have been one of the few people on the planet who disagreed with the phrase, “There’s no place like home for the holidays.” At least, for the last few years, that hadn’t exactly been your sentiment.

But, you were home anyway, after a few weeks of your mother’s guilt tripping and your father’s repeated phone calls. And, admittedly, you were enjoying your quiet time at home with your parents.

After helping your mom bake a few dozen cookies for the Christmas Eve party they were throwing tomorrow night, you wandered upstairs to your childhood bedroom to change out of your flour-covered attire and maybe squeeze in a nap. An undeniable perk of staying with your parents during the holidays — so many opportunities to sleep. As you pulled on a well-worn, long-sleeved ASU t-shirt you found hanging in your closet, your phone rang.

You groaned and swore to yourself that if it was your editor again, you were quitting. She’d already interrupted your time off at least once throughout each of your three days at home thus far — your first week of vacation in the two and a half years you’d been with the fashion magazine. You rolled your eyes and reached for the sounding device on your bed, then recoiled when you saw the contact name — or rather, initials — on the screen.

AM

Oh, god.

Even worse, the years-old contact photo popped up behind the name — a picture of the two of you lying together on the shore on your vacation four years ago, right after the draft, when you both still held onto the naive belief that nothing that had just happened in his world would change things between the two of you.

“Shit,” you whispered, covering your mouth while anxiety coursed through your veins.

You couldn’t just not answer. Right? The two of you were on decent terms, though you couldn’t quite remember the last time you’d spoken — probably seven, eight months ago. You had no good reason to ignore his call.

And after all... you were the one who had ended things.

You cleared your throat and, trying to coach yourself into mustering up some semblance of courage, quickly repeated, “Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Then, like ripping off a bandaid, you hurriedly tapped the green button and pressed the phone to your ear.

“Matthews,” you greeted curtly — tentatively.

“Kels. Come over,” Auston said abruptly, though you could hear the smile in his voice. “I know you’re home.”

You squinted and glanced around your room, racking your brain as you tried to figure out how exactly your ex-boyfriend knew your current whereabouts.

“What?” you asked, puzzled, not to mention slightly shocked that he was even interested in seeing you in person — though some part of you was, indeed, grateful for that. “How did you even know I was in Scottsdale?”

“Uh, your Instagram story, my dear,” he said, obviously amused. “You posted this morning from that new coffee shop between the Methodist church and our old school building. Remember?”

You rubbed a hand over your face, suddenly regretting adding him to your close friends list on Instagram six weeks ago after a few glasses of wine with your girlfriends.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, eliciting a chuckle from Auston.

“Yeah, don’t flatter yourself thinking I sit around and stalk you, sweetheart,” he teased. “I thought about replying but I didn’t wanna slide into your DMs and look like a fuckboy.” He paused, and you opened your mouth to make a halfhearted wisecrack that you didn’t truly mean, but before you could speak, he added, “Plus you probably get so many DMs, I’m sure mine would just get lost in the shuffle.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Matthews,” you repeated, whinier now.

“C’mon, Kels. Just come over,” he whined back. “I just got in last night. I’m staying at my parents’ house. My sisters nearly busted down my door when they saw you were back in town, plus I know my mom and dad would love to see you.”

Suddenly, two decades’ worth of memories that you had long ago pushed to the back of your mind flooded all at once to the forefront of your consciousness. Sleepovers watching Disney Channel movies and eating peach rings with Alex and Brey. Brian scooping you up in his arms after a nasty tumble off your bike on their street, propping you on the kitchen counter as he bandaged the scrapes on your knees, Auston never leaving your side nor letting go of your hand. Road trips with Ema to watch Auston play in countless tournaments, with you doing homework in the front seat while Ema sang along to the radio. Matthews family dinners eating Ema’s famous chicken tortilla soup. Vacations and carpool and pickup basketball games and shopping for prom dresses and just the mundane, everyday routine you had been part of for so many years.

And those were just the memories that involved his sisters, his parents. You didn’t dare let your mind uncover the buried memories of him, and him alone.

You missed them. Sometimes you missed them all so much that it made your heart physically ache and your stomach drop and your mouth go dry.

So, you drew a long, deep breath, and against your better judgment, eventually said, “Okay. Fine. But you have to send me your parents’ address. I haven’t been to the new Matthews McMansion.”

Auston huffed on the other end. “So mean to me.”

_____

It was certainly a far cry from the modest old ranch-style house where Auston had spent his childhood.

As you pulled up to the sprawling estate in the bougie part of town and cut your engine, you whispered, “What the fuck am I doing here...”

And still, after a quick check of your makeup in your rearview mirror, you got out of the car, closed your door and pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head, sighing as you took in the four vehicles parked in front of yours in the roundabout driveway, none of which you had ever seen before. Audi, Mercedes, BMW, Porsche. Well, you could guess which one was Auston’s.

You walked up the stone sidewalk and slipped your aviators into your purse — it was only then that you noticed that your hands were trembling.

You cleared your throat and exhaled sharply, willing your nerves to subside, as you arrived at the door and pressed the button on its frame, sounding an elaborate chime inside.

“I got it,” you immediately heard a familiar voice call, and you took a startled step backward as you saw his figure approaching through the decorative glass panes outlining the doorway. As he pulled open the door, the flutter you’d tried your hardest to avoid feeling for three years took flight once more in your belly.

“Matthews,” you greeted again, arms crossed in front of you in hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“Why’d ya bother to ring the doorbell, you nutjob?” Auston asked with a broad smile.

Before you could throw a snide remark back at him, he pulled you into himself, one arm snaking around your mid-back and the other hand cradling your head to his chest. Inadvertently, you exhaled contentedly, and you swore you felt Auston tighten his grip on you then. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself relax into him for longer than you had intended. He just felt so… familiar. Broad. Strong. Comforting.

He was just… Auston. A thousand things had changed for the two of you, but the way you felt in his presence hadn’t changed since you were a little girl.

You inhaled his cologne, and you noticed that he was doing just the same — breathing in your long-worn Chanel No. 5 perfume, the same kind he used to save up all year to buy you each Christmas.

At that memory, you snapped back to reality and extricated yourself from his embrace, leaving him looking slightly disappointed, though still pleased with your greeting.

“Hi,” you spoke simply as you stared up at him, then chuckled at how stupid that sounded.

“Hi,” he mimicked, head bobbling and eyes widening, causing you both to fall into a giddy fit of nervous laughter over nothing at all.

Just then, you saw Ema’s head pop out from beneath an arched opening toward the back of the house — probably leading to the kitchen, you assumed. Ema was always in the kitchen.

“I thought I heard your laugh,” she sang. You couldn’t help but beam, and Auston smiled and moved out of your way so that you had a direct pathway to his mother. Taking advantage of that, you made a beeline for the petite woman you considered your second mom, already feeling emotion bubbling up in your throat as tears blurred your vision.

“Oh, mija,” Ema said, her voice tight as she met you in the middle of the grand entryway and gathered you into her arms. “Te extrañamos,” (we miss you) she said sincerely.

Auston cupped the back of his neck and quickly looked away then, fearful that he may just shed tears of his own.

You sniffled and murmured, “Los extrañé a todos mucho,” (I missed you all so much) into Ema’s shoulder as she smoothed her hand lovingly over the back of your head.

When you finally parted, moving past the brief sadness of the reunion, Ema still held tightly to your hands, extending her arms so that she could see you better.

“You look more beautiful than ever!” she exclaimed, and you dropped your head bashfully at her compliment. “California is treating you well.”

You nodded. “For the most part,” you remarked with a sigh. Ema glanced quickly from your face to her son’s and back again, deciding not to dwell for too long on that loaded response.

“Well,” she pivoted with a click of her tongue. “You look great. Now come, come! I know Auston’s going to want to steal you away from me, not that I blame him, but I just put on some tea, so let’s sit and have some first.”

“Ma…” Auston protested lightheartedly. Ema wagged her finger at him. “Shh! Mijo! My long lost daughter has returned. Give me ten minutes for a cup of tea with her.”

Auston’s lips parted at her use of the word “daughter,” not that he should have been surprised by it, and you tossed him an animated shrug as Ema pulled you down the hallway back from whence she came. You were right — it was the kitchen, and it was a spectacular one at that.

“Holy…” you trailed off as Ema patted one of the leather barstools at the enormous island in the center of the room. You took a seat, pulling your cross body bag from your shoulder and placing it on the island, and commented, “This kitchen is incredible, Ema. I’m sure you love spending time here.”

Ema nodded and excitedly launched into stories of using all the appliances and gadgets she had never owned before, walking back to the teakettle on the stove as Auston sat down on the nearest barstool, feeling as though he could simply be dreaming, hallucinating, that you were here, sitting with him in his parents’ kitchen. But when you noticed him taking the seat next to yours, you tossed him a classic Kelsey smile and nudged his shoulder with your own, and he felt just slightly more confident that this was reality. Unable to resist your magnetism, which hadn’t faded with time but seemed instead to have only grown stronger, he squeezed your knee beneath the countertop, just as Ema approached with a cup of tea in hand for you.

Choosing to react instead to Ema rather than her son, you grinned and thanked her, feeling Auston’s eyes on you as you lifted the mug to your lips and took small sips, Ema still prattling on happily from the other side of the kitchen. You eventually cast a sidelong glance Auston’s way, accompanied by an amused smirk, the combination of which left him beaming as he looked away from you and back toward his mother, who now approached with two more cups of tea.

“Thanks, Ma,” he said as he wrapped his hands around the mug she offered him.

“You’re welcome, mijo,” Ema replied. “Now Kelsey, honey, how long are you in town?”

“Uh, just until the day after Christmas,” you replied, swirling a finger along the ceramic rim of your mug. “This is the most time I’ve taken off since I started at the magazine,” you admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

Ema nodded. “Your mother said you haven’t made it home for a while. I know they keep you pretty busy there. Is that why you don’t visit so much?” she asked unassumingly.

Auston dropped his head and shuffled his feet awkwardly against the tile floor, and your eyes flickered to him as you racked your brain for an answer that wasn’t a complete lie but also didn’t unmask the whole truth — which was that being in a town that held so much history with your ex was simply too suffocating to bear, even for a quick visit with your parents. So, you typically just stayed in California where you could throw yourself into your work as a fashion writer at a well-known publication and operate under the illusion that you had moved on. From Scottsdale, from Auston, from your life before Los Angeles.

And especially from Toronto.

But the problem was, when the night fell and the lights all faded and you were left to face the truth, you knew in your heart that that’s really all it was — an illusion.

And from 2,500 miles away, Auston knew it, too. He knew it because he was living the same lie.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied sheepishly. “That’s the gist of it. Just, uh, just hard to get away sometimes. My parents usually come out to visit me instead since their schedules are, uh, a little more flexible.”

“Right,” Ema said skeptically as you took a long pull from your mug, despite the hot liquid singing your tongue and making your eyes water. “Well, either way, it’s so good to finally see you here,” she added warmly.

“It’s good to see you too,” you breathed, honesty dripping from that answer.

Auston finally looked at you again, giving you an understanding smile. Even that smallest of gestures made you dizzy.

“So,” you said as you moved away from the topic, sitting up a bit straighter. “Where are the girls? Where’s Brian?”

“Golfing,” Auston answered. “Like always,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why am I not surprised?” you teased, making both Ema and Auston laugh.

“They begged Auston to come with them, but he turned them down,” Ema informed you. “And now we know why.” She lifted her eyebrows and took another sip of her tea as Auston shook his head.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” he joked. “But no, they’ll be back soon. They can’t wait to see you.”

You brightened at that, not having seen the Matthews girls in nearly as long as it had been since you’d seen Auston himself, finding it easier to breathe when they weren’t nearby, reminding you of him with their every mannerism. And yet, you’d found that starving yourself of their friendship and their company ached nearly just as much.

“I can’t wait either,” you said through a distant smile.

“And Dad will probably cry more than Mom did when he sees you,” Auston predicted, lifting his mug. Ema swatted at his arm.

“Don’t start with me!” she warned. “I happened to see you choking up out there, too.”

You turned to Auston and raised an accusing brow at him. He simply chuckled into his tea and looked away, and the three of you sat in silence for a beat.

“Come on,” he finally said as he rested his mug on the island, nodding his head in the direction of the sliding glass door at the back of the house. “Lemme show you the patio.”

You nodded, knowing full well that showing off the backyard was not the real reason he was inviting you outside. Despite that knowledge, you hopped off the barstool, put your mug in the sink, and kissed Ema on the cheek as you passed her.

“Thanks for the tea, mamacita,” you said with a smile, squeezing her shoulders. “Anytime, mi amor,” she replied, sending a wink your way as you turned to follow Auston.

He slid open the door and motioned for you to step through it first. When he saw his mother watching you through the kitchen window, he gave her a knowing smirk, and she put her hands up in innocence. But as she watched you two walk out onto the patio through the glass, she breathed a silent prayer to any higher power who would listen that maybe, just maybe, you would finally come home.

Not to Scottsdale, no. Home to Auston.

Meanwhile, you were trailing your hand along the hammock near the pool, taking in the scene and trying to remember to breathe. When you heard him close the door, you turned back to Auston, your eyes floating around the backyard.

“Nice setup they’ve got back here,” you grinned, Auston chuckling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“Yeah, it’s even nicer in the summer,” he commented. You nodded, stepping closer to the pool and lowering yourself to sit on the edge, patting the space next to you as an invitation for Auston to do the same.

“We have chairs, ya know,” he grumbled as he took a seat. “Not all of us like to sit on the floor all day doing yoga.”

You sneered at him. “Oh, yeah, that’s what I do all day long,” you said sarcastically.

“Well, you used to, anyway,” he mumbled.

You gulped as visions of him watching you do precarious yoga poses on the living room floor of his apartment flickered in your mind’s eye, and then, once again, you moved right along.

“So… how’s it going, Matthews? How’s life?” you prompted, not even sure if you truly wanted to hear the answer to your inquiry.

He stretched out his long legs so that his feet were dangling above the water as he wondered where to even begin.

“It’s… it’s good,” he said. “Overall. It’s nice to be home for a few days. Needed that. I missed it. Missed my family. Missed…” he stopped himself, “…other things,” he added under his breath.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and decided to avoid the path he was taking this down. “How’s hockey?” you asked instead.

Auston shifted noticeably at the mention of his career, still painfully aware that, despite the successes it had brought him, it had ultimately caused the demise of your relationship.

“Hockey is… hockey,” he said. “Honestly it’s good on the whole. But the team’s not having the greatest year so far, which is rough.” You nodded, knowing better than most that the Toronto media operated at a different level of intensity and scrutiny than that of nearly all other markets, especially when the Leafs were losing, and especially when new blood was added into the equation, like Auston’s had been when they drafted him.

Like yours had been when you moved there with him.

The spotlight they shone on you — and the subsequent attention you received from so-called fans who took to the internet to question your intentions and integrity — had been far more than you bargained for.

Just as you were about to ask about how the guys on the team were faring, Auston spoke again.

“I think about calling you every time we come to LA, Kels,” he said, fixing his eyes on the neighbor’s house in the distance because he was simply unable to look at you while he admitted it. With a sniff, he added, “I’m not gonna lie about that.”

“Why don’t you?” you asked after a beat, maybe unfairly, studying his familiar profile. His features were the same, of course, but he looked… more mature. Older. Wiser. All that jazz. Auston shrugged, still not capable of looking at you.

“Just didn’t think you’d want me to,” he answered dejectedly. Your heart sank into your stomach. Given the things you’d said when you left him nearly three years ago, you could hardly blame him for that one.

“Well,” you started with a sigh. “I guess we could call it even then, because I think about coming to see you play every time you come to LA. Or Anaheim. Or even Vegas. And obviously Phoenix.”

“Well why didn’t you just call me asking for free tickets then,” he said in a tone that he tried to disguise as facetious, but you heard the hurt seeping into his words. “Everybody else I know in any NHL city does.”

You felt a fierce sense of protectiveness then, clenching your jaw as you tried to calm your irate thoughts. You watched him pick at the sleeve of his black Raiders crewneck and felt deeply for him — this man you’d loved since he was a little boy.

“Do they really? Still?” you asked in monotone.

Auston nodded, squinting in the sunlight. “Yup,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’ “Every game.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, covering your eyes with your hand and pushing into your temples. You blew out a long breath. “Fuck. I’m really sorry about that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I… it just sucks.”

Auston shrugged. “It’s not your fault,” he stated. “Sometimes I do it, sometimes I don’t. Kinda depends on whether the person’s actually talked to me lately.”

You nodded as he chuckled sadly, and you felt your chest tighten. “Well,” you began, clearing your throat. “I guess I wouldn’t qualify then because we haven’t talked much.”

Auston looked at you with intensity surging in his deep brown eyes, and you wanted to look away but found that you couldn’t.

“You always qualify,” he said seriously. “You’re one of the only people that qualifies.”

You bit down, hard, on your bottom lip and grappled internally with the weight of his comment. Then he said sarcastically, “Besides, I know you’re only after my money. I mean, you forced me to buy you that Louis bag the week after I got drafted.”

Your jaw dropped at his joke, and you scoffed indignantly. “Oh, yeah, the one you finally had to hide in my closet after I kept sneaking it back into your car because I wanted you to return it?” you corrected. “Yeah, ya caught me. You know me, Aus. Such a gold digger.”

Auston had started laughing halfway through your quip, but stopped suddenly. You gave him a questioning look, and he paused before answering.

“You called me Aus,” he stated with a smile he tried and failed to hide. “You went back to calling me Matthews after we broke up. But you… you just called me Aus again.”

“Yeah, well...” you grumbled, “Don’t get too excited.” You tossed him a smirk and he mirrored it, basking in the comfort of the moment.

“So whaddya think of the place? Not bad, right?” he finally asked, glancing around the property, back at the house, then settling his focus back on you.

You shrugged. “A little gaudy for my taste, but...” you began, and Auston shook his head bemusedly, knowing he set himself up for that one.

“No, it’s great. I can see how much your mom loves it. In all seriousness, I think it’s amazing, everything you’ve done for your family. Your parents. It’s pretty incredible,” you said earnestly. “I don’t think I said it enough when we were together, but, I’m really proud of you, Aus. And I don’t just mean about the hockey.”

Auston nodded soberly, turning his head to look you in the eye.

“I know you don’t,” he said quietly. “Thanks, Kels. It means a lot coming from you. More, uh… more than you know.”

And then, before you could think twice about doing so, you reached out your hand to rest atop his, feeling its familiar warmth as your fingertips grazed the raised veins there. Auston swallowed hard, blinking at where your hands now met, and slowly wrapped your fingers in his, giving them a squeeze. You exchanged long stares before you eventually slammed on the brakes in your brain and carried on.

“So, you just casually hang out with Justin Bieber now?” you asked, reaching your palms behind you and leaning back. “And the wildest shit is that I saw it first when he posted it, not you.”

Auston chuckled, looking down at his slides and — ironically — Drew socks combo. In his signature way, he halted his laughter on a dime and his face turned somber as he said dryly, “Yeah, I’m like really famous now, yanno?”

You sighed in annoyance, rolling your eyes as you looked skyward, feeling Auston’s gaze turn to you. You let it go for a few moments before shifting only your eyes toward his.

“What?” you asked accusingly. You could tell by the faraway smirk on his face that he was lost in a memory.

“Remember you had posters of him hung up all over your room in like middle school? From Tiger Beat magazine and shit? And now I play video games and mini sticks with the guy,” Auston said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and if you ever tell him about that, I’ll end your life,” you threatened, shoving at his arm and attempting to ignore how much his biceps had grown since you last touched them. And then you were slamming the door shut on a rush of memories of having him beneath your touch — some innocent, but most intimate.

Auston saw it in your eyes — the place you went for a moment — as you dropped your hand back to the concrete beneath you. He knew where you went because, so often, he went there, too.

He held your gaze and promised, “Your secret’s safe with me. You know that.”

Only a hint of a smile graced your lips for a fleeting moment as you ran your fingers through your hair. Suddenly, you felt the heaviness of the history between the two of you closing in — smothering you, like it always did. Auston watched helplessly, wishing it didn’t have to be this hard.

And then, in a flash, like he so often did to save you from your swirling thoughts, he casually changed the topic as he commented, “Your hair’s shorter. You look like your mom. In a good way.”

Blushing, you breathed a laugh through your nose. “Thanks,” you said softly. “I think it’s the highlights, too.”

“It is,” Auston confirmed, and then — damn him — he reached out and looped a lock from the front of your face between his thumb and forefinger, the way he had done a thousand times before, usually mid-conversation, always absentmindedly. This time, you knew, as you forced your eyes to meet his, it was a bit more calculated. “I really like it,” he told you.

You nodded, searching his eyes to try and determine whether he had any idea what this — this moment, this visit, this day — really was.

“If you’re gonna ask me what we’re doing,” Auston spoke, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a second, “then I have to tell you I have no idea.”

Again, damn him. After all this time, it was like he still lived inside your brain and had read your every thought like the morning paper before you even had the chance to convey it. Which used to save you in a lot of ways. Now it felt kind of… intrusive. But somehow you didn’t mind.

“I had no idea what I was even gonna say when I called you. All I know,” he continued, still flipping the strand of hair around his fingers, “is that I really wanted to see you, and that I was really happy when you came, and that I’m really enjoying this time with you.”

You nodded, and as he pulled his hand from your face, his thumb brushed your jawline just slightly, and that touch alone sent a bolt of lightning through you. Auston smiled softly as he said barely above a whisper, “Okay, now it’s your turn to say something.”

You heaved a sigh, tipping your head back with eyes closed and soaking in the sunshine. “I don’t expect you to know, Aus,” you finally spoke. “I was just so... so shocked, I guess, that you wanted to see me. It’s been so long, I just... I didn’t know when I would see you again.”

“We’ve talked though,” Auston pointed out with a sigh to match yours, pulling a knee to his chest and wrapping his arms around his bent leg. “FaceTimed. Texted.”

You rolled your head toward him. “It’s not the same,” you reasoned softly, hesitantly reaching out your hand to tuck some of his black hair behind his ear. He licked his lips swiftly and placed a peck to your thumb before you slowly withdrew your hand.

“You’re right,” Auston conceded. “Definitely not the same.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt...”

You were snapped out of your private moment by one person’s voice and another person’s squeal behind you.

“Oh, my god!” you yelled as you shot up from the side of the pool, Alexandria and Breyana already scampering toward you from the back door.

“It’s about goddamn time you came back to us!” Alex shrieked, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I missed you, little sister,” she cooed, rubbing her hands across your back, and you hummed in agreement.

“I missed you, Al,” you replied, kissing her temple as you stepped back to greet the youngest of the Matthews clan.

“And you. My baby!” you exclaimed, pulling Breyana into your arms. “The true star athlete of the family,” you teased as she squeezed your waist.

“Damn straight,” Breyana giggled. “I missed you, Kels. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You pulled away, glancing behind you as you saw Auston slowly approaching out of the corner of your eye. “Me either,” you admitted, eyes widening dramatically as the girls snickered at you. “How was golf?”

“Brey smoked us, no surprise,” Alex replied. “But shut up about the golf. Tell us what’s going on with you two.”

“Alex!” Auston warned, shooting her a glare. “Please don’t.”

Alex gave him her best older sister roll of the eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as Breyana looked between the two of you.

“Nope,” Alex refused. “Not until you tell me what’s up. C’mon, spill.”

“We’re just...” you began, swiveling to look Auston’s way as he smirked down at you, happy to let you flounder in this one all on your own. “Visiting,” you finished, nodding once at Alex, pleased with your choice of verbiage.

“Honestly, you guys…” Breyana lamented.

“Visiting, huh?” Alex echoed, growing even more suspicious. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Wear protection. Anyways, uh—“

“Alex!” Auston repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I swear to god...”

“Anyways, like I was saying,” Alex continued. “Your parents invited us all to their house tomorrow night for the Christmas party. I didn’t think you were gonna be there — does this mean you will?”

You nodded, causing Alex to clap excitedly. “I’ll be there with bells on,” you confirmed. “I already made my shortbread cookies.” All three siblings moaned in delight at the mention of your famous treats.

“Hell yeah! Plus that means we won’t be the only ones escaping to the balcony to drink,” Breyana commented.

“Brey, you’re like twelve,” Auston taunted, earning him a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger sister. “You don’t get to drink with us.”

“Whatever,” she retorted. “Like you guys weren’t sneaking Mom and Dad’s liquor when you were younger than me.”

“Anyways,” Alex said yet again, clearing her throat. “We’re gonna go back inside now and shower, and just, uh, leave you guys to whatever it is you were doing beside the pool there. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. See ya,” she sang, spinning Breyana by the shoulders and guiding her inside, both girls whispering and giggling all the while. “Kels, I’ll call you tonight — you can tell me all about it!” Alex called over her shoulder, sliding the door closed.

You turned to see a pink tinge to Auston’s cheeks as he muttered, “Sorry,” with a dry laugh. You shook your head.

“No, don’t be,” you insisted, waving him off as you took a seat at the glass picnic table beside you, Auston following your lead. “It wouldn’t be a visit to the Matthews house without Alex torturing the both of us,” you teased.

Auston nodded. “Very true,” he said, and you knew he didn’t want to stop there, but he couldn’t seem to find what he did want to say next.

Instead, you ventured, “So what are your—”

At the very same time, he started, “Kels, would you maybe—”

You both chuckled at yourselves, locking eyes. This certainly wasn’t the first time this had happened in conversations — far from it. And usually, you were about to say the very same thing.

So, you motioned for him to speak first.

He toyed with the band of his watch as he said nervously, “I was just gonna say, uh, would you maybe wanna go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

You sat back in your chair, smirking, fully aware that you were teetering on a damn fine line.

“I was hoping you might say that.”

_____

An hour later, after reuniting with Brian (Auston was right — he cried more than the rest of his family combined when he hugged you), you headed home to change for dinner. As you pulled away from the Matthews house, you were thankful that Auston had offered to follow you in his own vehicle so that he could drive you to dinner, which in turn gave each of you a few minutes to breathe.

Surprisingly, your mother didn’t seem at all shocked to see the guest you had brought back with you. You had told her that you were going to visit the Matthews’, not specifying which member of the family had invited you, though she could venture a guess. When she watched two vehicles pull into the driveway side by side, she inhaled an excited gasp, a smile overwhelming her features as she came to meet you at the front door, just as you laughed at a lame joke Auston cracked about your driving.

Your mother nearly tackled him in a hug, which he warmly returned. He shared a similar bond with your mom to the one you shared with his, which was yet another piece that fit perfectly into the puzzle that was your relationship. So many pieces fit, and so few didn’t, but that still didn’t make things whole.

But, you ignored that thought — and so many others — as you left the two to chat, bounding up the stairs to change, now grateful that you’d brought more than one nice option to wear to the Christmas party tomorrow, considering the rest of your suitcase was filled with comfy loungewear.

How could you have ever planned for this?

After touching up your hair and makeup and putting on the more understated of the dressy outfits you’d brought, you returned to the kitchen where your mom and Auston stood huddled at the counter, near empty glasses of red wine in front of them both.

“Already boozin’, huh?” you teased as you folded your arms in front of you. They chuckled, and Auston glanced at you over his shoulder with a smile. When he laid eyes on you, though, he stood straight up and turned to face you, making no attempt to hide his stare, even in front of your mother. Without taking his gaze off of you, he threw back his final sip of wine and blew out a flustered breath. You knew you were blushing, so you walked past him to your mother, pressing your cheek to hers for an air kiss so as not to mess up your lipstick.

“Sorry to take your favorite boy away from you, but we should head out,” you announced as you looked back at Auston. He cleared his throat, walking to the other side of the countertop to hug your mom again, thanking her for the wine and something else that you didn’t quite catch.

He followed you down the hall, his hand ghosting along the small of your back as you reached for your purse on the coat rack. You looked back and blew a final kiss to your mom, who waved as she watched Auston open the passenger door of his car and help you in — both of you giggling as you crouched into the low-riding vehicle in your skirt and high heels. Like a mom of a young teen, she stood at the window and watched the two of you drive down the block and out of sight, hands clasped together wistfully as she turned back to finish placing the final decorative touches in the living room ahead of tomorrow.

Just a minute later, your dad came through the door from the grocery store, calling for her, sounding nearly breathless.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, smoothing the silk ribbon wrapped around the banister.

“Marie… did I just see Auston driving Kelsey down the road in a Porsche?” he gaped, his brow furrowed, thumb pointed over his shoulder.

She laughed, looking downward as she nodded.

“Yes, you did,” she confirmed, then looked at him as she felt tears welling. “Jack... I can’t say for sure, but I think maybe the girl is finally coming to her senses.”

A smile spread slowly across your father’s face and he came toward your mother, wrapping her in a hug.

“Well…” he began, kissing her temple. “Then maybe we’ll get our Christmas wish after all.”

“And what’s that?” your mom asked.

“For her to be happy again.”

_____

“You look amazing, Kels,” Auston said seriously from the driver’s seat. “Gorgeous.”

You gave him a coy smile and briefly inspected the outfit he’d chosen before leaving his own parents’ house.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Auston grinned and decided he would take that.

Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to the restaurant you had already known he’d had in mind when he asked you to dinner, without even needing to discuss it. The same Italian restaurant where you’d celebrated infinite birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s Days, and other milestones. You fell into easy conversation during drinks and appetizers before Auston told a comical story about his teammates which led to an in that he knew he needed to take. 

“They miss you, you know,” Auston stated cautiously between bites of his shrimp scampi. “Mo. Mitchy. Especially Steph.”

You folded and unfolded the seams of the cloth napkin in your lap, considering your response.

“I miss them, too,” you eventually murmured. “So be real with me. You really like it there now?” you leveled with him.

His demeanor shifted — in a good way — as he replied. “It’s honestly great. I mean, you’d love it there now, Kels. I swear,” Auston said, shaking his head in wonder. “’M not just saying that. I mean, the hype is still there, yes, but it’s not at the level it was when I first started. Mitchy and Mo and Willy and I, all us guys who kinda started out together, we’ve all sort of found our groove with the media and stuff, and for the most part, it’s great. I have a feeling it’ll just keep getting better, too.”

You watched his eyes light up as he spoke about Toronto, relief and happiness washing over you. It didn’t seem so long ago that Auston was curled up on the couch, near tears, head in your lap, feeling incapable of living up to the expectations set for him — almost buckling under the immense pressure, the likes of which he had never felt before.

You let out a teary chuckle, swiping at a teardrop on your cheek that had fallen as he answered, taking you by surprise.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Aus,” you told him, holding your hand over your heart as it soared within you.

Auston nodded slightly, and his lips twitched into a sad smile. “There’s still something that doesn’t feel right though,” he confessed, though it didn’t feel much like a secret. “Still something missing.”

“And what’s that?” you asked timidly as you lifted your wine glass, excited for and fearful of his answer at all once.

“You.”

Forcing yourself to swallow your merlot so you didn’t spray it across the table, you put your fist to your mouth, holding it there while you attempted to process his latest, and most brazen, admission.

“I mean… look, there have been a few others,” Auston continued with a mindless shrug. “But never anything serious, and never anyone that I’m not constantly comparing to you in every possible way,” he told you, rolling his fingertips on the table and focusing on his hand as he spoke. “Feel kinda bad actually, because I know they all thought it was something more than it really was, and then I was always the one to break things off. I didn’t purposely lead them on, I just... once I got into it, I realized my feelings just weren’t in it.”

You opened your mouth to speak, hands limp in your lap, and then closed your lips in a tight line as you mulled over his words. You inhaled a shuddering breath and looked down, feeling the same shame that had overcome you countless times before come back again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered without lifting your eyes.

“Kelsey…” Auston spoke firmly. “Look at me. Please.”

You did as he asked, lips pursed, and were met with his adoring, enchanting gaze, always too forgiving of your faults and mistakes.

“It’s okay,” he promised sincerely. “I understand. Trust me on that. I’ve always understood where you were coming from, but it seemed like there was just… just nothing I could do about it. Nothing I could do to make you stay, or to bring you back. That’s what made it so hard. That’s what still makes it so hard.”

You nodded. “Well — what you’re doing right now — whatever this is… it’s working,” you divulged, knowing this was a dangerous game and no longer caring.

“Is it?” Auston asked, a full-blown smile appearing now on his lips. Those lips you missed so damn much.

“Yeah,” you giggled, both of you grinning. “God, I missed your smile, Aus.”

“My smile?” he asked incredulously, then scoffed. “Your smile fucking breaks my heart, Kelsey,” he told you in his deepest tone, biting at the inside of his cheek as if he was trying not to lean across the table and kiss you full on the mouth right then and there.

And now, as you saw that look in his eye that you knew so well, you knew two things.

One, you were fucked. And two, you were in desperate need of a minute.

“I, uh, I gotta run to the ladies’ room,” you told him, standing, feeling unsteady as you pushed in your chair. Auston nodded knowingly and said, “Take all the time you need.”

You brushed a hand over his shoulder, the other holding tightly to your crossbody bag, as you attempted to walk in a straight line toward the restrooms across the restaurant floor. You were only one glass of wine deep, yet this night was making your head feel as fuzzy as if you’d just done a row of shots. Once safely inside the bathroom, you tossed your purse on the counter and held tightly to the sink to try and settle yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control your racing pulse.

Just then, you heard a toilet flush, and your sense of solitude was quickly shattered when you saw a familiar blonde figure step out of the bathroom and lean closer upon recognizing you.

“Kelsey!” she exclaimed, moving toward the sink.

“Holly! Oh, my god,” you laughed as you squeezed her upper arm.

“Here, let me wash my hands and then I’ll give you a real hug,” she promised as you both giggled.

You had been a cheerleader throughout high school, and Holly, a year your senior, had been captain the year before you took on the title. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you had always looked up to her, and you’d kept in touch for a couple of years after you graduated before mostly falling off, save for the occasional hype comment or story reply on social media.

“How are you, girl? You look gorgeous!” she said as she threw her arms around you.

“So do you! I’m doing well, thanks. Home for the holidays,” you offered as she stepped back and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s great! Me, too,” she replied, then smiled mischievously at you. “To be totally honest, uh… I saw you when you were being seated. I didn’t wanna be weird or like, intrude, or anything but… I saw you come in with Auston. Are you guys like… back together?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no,” you laughed nervously, feeling yourself blush under her questioning. “We’re not back together. Just, uh, just two old friends, uh, catching up, ya know?” you reasoned nonchalantly as you reached for your bag.

“Oh. Right. Well... ‘tis the damn season, am I right?” Holly said with a chuckle, her own cheeks slightly flushed as she feared maybe she had made you uncomfortable by addressing the elephant in the room.

“Right,” you nodded cordially, then took a step toward her and patted her hand, wanting to make sure she didn’t think you were upset by her comment. “It’s so good to see you, Hol. I’m gonna head back out there—“

“Kelsey, wait,” Holly said urgently, grasping your arm before you could turn away from her. You blinked at her several times, glancing between her grip and her face as you waited to hear what had gotten into her.

“I just have to tell you... for what it’s worth, you guys still look so happy together,” Holly said. “Even if that’s not what this is. I just... I wanted to tell you that. As someone who has known you both for a long time, Auston never smiles as much as he smiles when he’s with you. It’s just nice to see.”

You gaped at your old friend, speechless, and she scrunched her nose at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cross the line, I just...” she trailed off.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to act casual. “No, no. Not at all. It’s okay. Thank you, for telling me. I just, I gotta run,” you said, leaning in to hug her again. “Bye, Hol. Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too, Kels. See you around,” She smiled as you moved toward the bathroom door. With one last polite nod at her, you exited and escaped to your seat.

As you reached the table, you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching out and running your hand along the back of Auston’s neck and affectionately trailing your fingertips over the short hair there, as you had done for so many years when approaching him and sidling up to him. Instead, you smoothed your hand over your dress and sighed as Auston turned his head to look at you, grinning as he watched you sit.

“You get lost?” he teased. You chuckled, throwing your hair behind your shoulders.

“Something like that,” you muttered, immediately reaching for your glass of wine, which you could tell had been refilled in your absence. Auston hummed in acknowledgement as you took a long sip, watching you all the while.

“One more glass and then we get outta here?” Auston suggested as you set the glass down. You only nodded.

_____

“Remember when you had that old truck, with the tires that were always muddy, and we used to just ride around Scottsdale all night long?” you asked Auston, both of you reminiscing about days gone by after leaving the restaurant.

Auston nodded, running his pointer finger across his upper lip, the other hand on the wheel, as he watched the memory projecting in his mind.

“‘Course I do,” he told you, and you didn’t miss the way his tone changed when he did, making you smirk.

“So, where to next?” you prodded. “Back to Casa de Matthews?”

He shrugged ambiguously, but secretly, he knew just what he wanted to do. “We could just ride around. Like we used to. If you want. I mean, there’s no real reason for us to rush back to our parents’ houses, right?” he said with a snicker.

This could get messy as the mud on the truck tires, you thought, but your response was already tumbling from your lips.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him. “I’d say let’s go drive through the rich neighborhoods and look at Christmas lights like we used to, but that’s where you and your parents live now, so...” You clicked your tongue and Auston rolled his jaw, acting completely offended to hide how much he had missed you chirping him. The way it melted him.

“We’re still going,” he insisted, turning the wheel at the next intersection and pulling a U-turn. “We’ll just, uh, we’re just gonna maybe skip a couple neighborhoods, that’s all.”

You laughed — a real Kelsey belly laugh — and Auston watched as you lit up his world yet again. He didn’t even need to see any Christmas lights this year. He had all the light he needed right next to him.

Minutes later, he passed the usual first turn on your holiday lights tour and you furrowed your brow.

“Aus, where are you going? I wanted to see Ranchero Nuevo first. We always start there,” you reminded him.

“No, what’s the actual first thing we do when we go see Christmas lights?” Auston asked, pulling instead toward the strip mall at the next light. When you saw the green glow of the Starbucks sign up ahead, you smiled as it dawned on you.

“Get hot chocolate,” you said fondly. Instead of answering, Auston simply sent a soft smile your way. “You’re the greatest,” you lauded, igniting a pride that burned bright in Auston’s chest.

“Anything for you, babe,” he said before he could even realize what he’d just done. He snapped his head your way and saw that you were trying your damnedest not to smile.

He was completely taken aback as you quipped, “You can call me babe for the weekend.”

Auston did a double-take and then nodded once at your phone in your hands, which had just lit up with two missed calls and a particularly accusatory text from one Alex Matthews that you decided you would have to tend to later.

“Write this down,” Auston instructed curtly.

“What do you mean?” you laughed, holding your phone up curiously.

“I want proof that you just said that to me,” he deadpanned, jutting his chin toward your glowing screen and sending you into a fit of laughter.

After you’d both recovered, Auston picked up your drink — large peppermint hot chocolate, like always — and a coffee for himself, and you set off to wind your way through the same neighborhoods you had driven through countless times, admiring most of the decorations and poking fun at the gaudiness of some, laughing all the while, without a care.

As he pulled into a neighborhood you knew to be just a stone’s throw away from where he had recently purchased a house, Auston took a deep breath, fingers gripping the steering wheel rigidly, and decided to take the leap and say what had been circling through his brain since you’d stepped foot in the vehicle after dinner but had only just now worked up the nerve to say.

“What if we didn’t go back to our parents’ places tonight?” he asked abruptly, the words sounding much more jumbled and rushed than they had in his head.

You chuckled anxiously, staring straight ahead. “What do you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pressed on. “Hear me out. What if we just went to my place for the night instead? I don’t mean to like… to hook up, or anything,” he assured. “Just to be together. I just… I really fucking missed you.” 

Uh, whoops. He hadn’t exactly meant to slip that last part in there, but it was too late to turn back now.

There was a lengthy pause and the car was frighteningly silent as you weighed your options.

“Well...” you eventually said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “If it’s okay with you, then it’s okay with me.”

“Yeah?” Auston asked immediately, searching your face for confirmation that he had just heard you correctly. He couldn’t believe that this — any of this— was really happening.

You nodded.

“Yeah. And… Aus?” you spoke.

“Yes, Kelsey?” he asked softly, joy radiating from his whole being and seeping into his words.

You leaned your head back against the seat and reached to wrap your hand around his on the center console.

“I really fucking missed you, too,” you told him.

_____

“Why did you agree to come with me tonight anyway, Kelsey?”

You and Auston were each almost a full bottle of wine deep by the time he asked this, inhibitions now lowered. He’d barely finished giving you the tour before you were both so palpably overwhelmed by the reality of being alone together in his house, with so many feelings buzzing about frenetically, that you took the liberty of pulling a bottle of red from the wine fridge and asking for glasses and a corkscrew. Auston forked them over without question, and now you were deeply entrenched in the process of examining old battle wounds that had never quite healed.

“Because I missed you,” you answered truthfully. “And also because I owed it to you to accept your invitation when you took a chance by reaching out.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Kels,” he claimed, taking a swig.

You picked up your glass and passed by him as you began to pace the tile floor, unable to just be still during this exchange — this conversation that had been a long time coming.

“I do, though,” you argued. “You gave me everything. Everything. And I still left.”

Auston squeezed the stem of his wine glass so hard he feared he may just shatter it.

“I don’t want you blaming yourself for the things I put you through because of my career choice,” he said firmly, a hand splayed against his chest as he accepted the responsibility, just like he always did.

“But you didn’t choose to have the media posted up outside our apartment every day. You didn’t choose to have strangers stalking me and my family online. You didn’t choose to have them calling me a distraction and a leech and a gold digger and a wh—“

“Don’t say it,” he warned as he lifted a finger, referencing the specific instance of the smearing of your character that had left you broken enough to start packing your bags.

“Okay,” you conceded quietly, knowing just how sick that one word had made him. “But listen. Yes, you chose to play hockey. But you didn’t choose all that shit that came along with it. You didn’t know! Hell, you didn’t even get to choose where you played. But even so… honestly, I used to blame you for everything. Because back then, it was just easier for me to deal with it that way.”

Auston’s head hung between his shoulder blades as he leaned his palms against the bar, reliving the very same pain that had eaten away at him for the past three years, especially the acute ache that had come in the weeks immediately after you left.

“I know you did — blame me, that is,” he said softly. “And I understand why.”

You took slow and deliberate steps back to where he stood and rubbed your hand soothingly across his broad back, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Hey… look at me, huh?” you asked, gently guiding his face toward yours with your fingers. “I don’t blame you, Aus. I don’t,” you assured, your eyes piercing into his. “Not anymore. I’ve grown. I know I did this. I know it’s my fault that we’re like this. I mean, fuck, I broke my own heart, and I know I hurt you. I just... at the time, I didn’t see a way forward on the road we were on.”

Auston’s mind was firing on all cylinders as he tried desperately to compute what he’d just heard, convinced he was gathering more from your words than you meant for him to.

“And now?” he ventured.

He watched as your pained expression turned to one of, dare he even think it, hope.

“I still see it, Aus,” you said. “I still see us ending up together. I know it’s out of the blue, but…”

“It’s not though,” he said, cocking his head a bit to punctuate his point. “I know it doesn’t make much sense, any of this, but… to me, it’s not out of the blue. I’ve wanted this for so long,” he told you. “And I just need you to know that. Regardless of what happens next.”

“Auston, you and me together… that’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s all that’s ever made sense to me,” you said, clarity washing over you. “But I just, I wasn’t ready. And I got so scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle your life that I… I just ran.”

“You can run, Kelsey,” Auston said softly as he, yet again, twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “But only so far.”

“Yeah…” you whispered. Then, without hesitation, you grasped his chin between your forefinger and thumb, turning his face to yours and studying his brown eyes just for a heartbeat before pressing your lips to his.

And for now, that was all that needed to be said.

_____

You hadn’t slept together. But you had slept together.

Too much crying and laughing and kissing and rehashing and wondering aloud had left you both emotionally drained and physically exhausted, and after dragging yourself into the master bathroom to throw on a crewneck and a pair of  Auston’s sweats, you’d promptly fallen asleep in his arms, a smile on his features even in sleep.

The next morning it occurred to you, with your cheek pressed against his bare chest and your legs entangled with his, that Auston’s bed — whether here, or in the house where he grew up, or in Toronto — was the warmest one you’d ever known. Though you could tell by the sunlight flooding the room that it was late in the morning, you couldn’t bear to move away from him. 

Soon, he, too, began to stir. As he squinted in the daylight and peered down at you, he closed his eyes once more, a peaceful grin on his lips.

“Oh, thank god that wasn’t just a dream,” he whispered. You chuckled, your fingertips lazily drawing shapes on his pecs as you nuzzled your head further into his neck.

“Nope,” you established. “This is very, very real.”

You lay in quiet thought for a moment before adding softly, “But what happens now?”

At that, Auston’s eyes opened wider this time, a slight panic visible in his face.

“Well,” he began, smoothing his hand over your head and kissing your hair. “What happens now is that we get some coffee.”

You sighed at his attempt to make light of the situation and pushed yourself to sit straight up in bed, cross-legged in front of where he lay on his side.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you spoke, your fingers pulling anxiously at the bedsheet below. “Yesterday was like a fever dream and now... now we have to face reality.”

Slowly, Auston sat up, too, and pulled you into his lap, allowing you to rest your back against his torso as he gathered your hair at the nape of your neck in a makeshift ponytail.

“Everything that happened yesterday was reality, baby,” he insisted, kissing the crown of your head.

“Our feelings, yes,” you allowed. “But not the rest of it. I mean, fuck, we’re both leaving town in —“ you glanced at the bedside clock and were shocked by the 11:27 that stared back at you, realizing you’d practically slept in half the day — “48 hours. And then what? I go back to LA and you go back to Toronto and we just wonder about—“

“Baby, stop,” Auston begged as he turned you to face him, bringing your forehead to his lips. “Take a breath,” he said, stroking your jaw with his thumbs as he looked down at you, concern etched into his features. “We don’t have to figure all this out right this minute. In fact, we’re not going to. For right now, let’s just let this be what it is. And you have to try and stop spinning your wheels so fast. You’re gonna burn a hole in my floor,” he joked, kissing your nose.

You chuckled sadly, holding his wrists. “You’re right,” you eventually told him. “We’ll figure it out, somehow. I know we will,” you sighed, frowning. “First things first though, I have to get home and help my mom get ready for the party tonight.”

Before you could get out of bed to start gathering your things, Auston circled his arms around your hips and kept you in his lap. “Wait, gimme a smile first,” he requested.

You looked up at him and offered a tight-lipped smile, still distracted by the future of your relationship teetering precariously in the balance.

Auston shook his head. “That’s a fake Kelsey smile,” he accused, accurately. “Don’t even try me.”

With another deep sigh, you muttered, “You’re the only soul who can tell.”

“Who can tell what?” he asked, hugging you tighter.

You looked up at him for a moment, feeling more seen than you had in years. “Which smiles I’m faking,” you said quietly.

A pleased smile twitched at the corners of Auston’s lips before he pressed his mouth to yours.

_____

Auston walked into your parents’ house that night with his understated charm and a devastating ensemble of a maroon suit, white shirt with the top few buttons undone, and black loafers, looking every bit the GQ model he was once upon a time. With two bouquets of red roses and a bottle of champagne in hand, he knocked on the glass and your dad met him enthusiastically at the door.

“What’s the occasion?” your dad then chuckled, a bit puzzled. Auston glanced to where you stood near the staircase, waiting to greet him, and smiled.

“These are for your daughter,” Auston said as he grasped one bouquet. “And these are for your wife,” he said as he gestured toward the other. Your dad raised his eyebrows, looking between the two of you pensively, and let out a loud laugh. “Well, how thoughtful! And the champagne?” your dad asked as Auston stepped toward you and tucked one bunch of roses into your hold. He kissed your cheek chastely and turned back to your dad.

“Well, you never know when you’re gonna have something to celebrate,” Auston said with a smirk. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and your dad clapped Auston’s back appreciatively before leaving the two of you to your moment.

“Thank you, for the flowers,” you said softly, staring up at him. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod before your aunt and uncle suddenly appeared in the doorway, loudly greeting you and pushing their way toward you for hugs as Auston gave them their space and waited for you to become available again.

His patience lasted all of five minutes as he made vague pleasantries with the handful of guests who had already arrived, before he was approaching you again, eager to do what he really came here to do and unable to wait a moment longer. As you turned away from a brief conversation with a longtime next-door neighbor, Auston gently grasped your wrist as he said hastily, “Can I see you outside for a second?”

You didn’t have much of a choice as he led you hurriedly through the formal living room and out the French doors to the balcony, closing them behind you and backing you into a corner, hidden from view.

“Aus, what are you—“

He pressed his body into yours, nudging you back against the rail as he took your face in his hands and kissed you hungrily.

“Doing,” you whispered when he let up, completing your earlier thought as you pressed your fingertips against your swollen lips and looked up at him, your cheeks reddening.

“That,” he answered simply with a small smile. “And I wanted to give you something...”

He patted his pockets to determine where the object was, and your eyes widened.

“Auston, no!” you exclaimed, squeezing his elbows in an attempt to stop his search. “You can’t. I didn’t get you anything. I —”

“Kelsey, are you crazy? Yes, you did,” he said firmly. “Time with you. You gave me time with you. That’s all I’ve wanted for the last three years. That’s more than I could have ever asked for.”

There was nothing you could say then, nothing that sounded worthy enough to hold any significance in such an already meaningful vignette of the two of you. Auston took your silence as his opportunity to pull a mid-sized, square, red leather box from the pocket of his suit jacket, the name “Cartier” imprinted in gold script on the lid.

“Auston, stop,” you warned in a whisper, knowing what was inside and knowing that you would be rendered completely incapable of walking away from him once he offered this gift to you, knowing what it signified for both of you. He shook his head, knowing that your request was an empty one. He propped open the box and placed it on the small wrought iron table in front of you on the balcony. You couldn’t peel your eyes from it as your mind raced with questions.

“How... where... we slept until noon, Aus,” you stuttered. “All the stores were closed. Where did you even buy this?”

He pursed his lips and nodded once, then put his hands into his pockets and admitted, “I’ve had it for almost three years, Kels.”

You blinked again and again, not processing what he’d just revealed.

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I bought this for you for Valentine’s Day three years ago,” he continued. “I bought it and I hid it in my closet and I was gonna give it to you but we broke up on —“

“January 30th...” you whispered. Auston’s brows knit together in agony, and his throat constricted.  

“You remember too,” he stated quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember a little too well,” you said, sniffling as you glanced down at the box again.

Suddenly, your mind drifted back not to that fateful day in his apartment in Toronto, but instead to lying on your stomach as a kid in your family room, flipping through the pages of your favorite issue of your mom’s old Vogue magazines, as Auston used a yardstick and a Nerf ball as makeshift hockey equipment, taking shots at your couch again and again while you soaked in the photos of beautiful models, trendy clothing, and expensive jewelry, as visions of working at a fashion magazine someday twirled through your daydreams.

“Whatcha readin’?” a ten-year-old Auston inquired as he dropped next to you to take a break from his game.

“Vogue,” you answered, turning another page. “Like usual.”

Auston nodded, spotting a pretty woman in a tight black dress and commented, “Cool,” with a laugh. “If you could have anything in that book, what would you pick?”

Ever the master of sass, you rolled your eyes.

“It’s a magazine, Aus,” you corrected with venom in your voice as Auston rolled his own eyes. “But, if I had to pick... I know just what I want,” you informed him, leafing through the issue to get back to an ad in the front. When you finally found what you were seeking, you plopped the magazine down again, smacking your hand onto its glossy pages.

“That,” you said, pointing to the gold bangle. “It’s called the Love Bracelet. It says that it gets bought by somebody you love and then they have to use a screwdriver to put it on you.”

“A screwdriver?!” Auston asked incredulously. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”

You giggled. “No, silly,” you drawled. “It doesn’t hurt. But then the person who loves you is the only one who can put it on you or take it off you. You can’t do it by yourself.”

Auston nodded. “Cool,” he repeated, more seriously this time. You sighed wistfully as you gazed down at the bracelet.

“Yeah, but it’s a whole bunch of money, and my dad said he isn’t buying it. He said maybe my husband will get me one someday,” you said sadly. Auston watched your face drop, then, he got an idea.

“How about this,” he offered, nudging you with his elbow. “If I get famous for playing baseball, or hockey I guess, and I make a boatload of money, then I’ll buy you that bracelet. ‘Kay?”

You blushed, hunching your shoulders as you were slightly embarrassed by your best friend’s offer. Still, you loved Auston, and you knew he loved you. He was the only person you wanted to get that bracelet from, except for like, your mom or dad.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You promise?”

Auston dragged his index finger over the left side of his chest. “Cross my heart,” he confirmed.

This time, it was your turn to say, “Cool.”

“I asked my mom to hold onto it,” you heard him telling you now. Now that you’d become the people you’d said you’d be. Now that you both had grown into the farfetched dreams you’d shared as children. Now that you’d come back home — back to one another. Now that he was here, in front of you, again. “I just couldn’t bear to take it back, even though I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to give it to you.”

You were shaking your head endlessly, attempting to stop tears from streaking your face. “I can’t believe this...” you said, awestruck.

“I don’t have to put this on you right now,” Auston said, swallowing his own tears he felt creeping up on him. “I just want you to have it. It’s yours. You should keep it.”

With a few swipes at your undereyes, you rubbed away the wetness on your hands and then extended your left wrist to Auston. A smile flashed briefly across his lips before he set them in a straight line once more.

“Are you sure?” he asked, caution in his voice.

You pulled him in by his waist, beaming, before you answered.

“I’ve played this out basically every night since I left,” you told him. “Even when I was with somebody. I just followed the path my mind was taking me all the way to the very end, until there was no place left to go. And it always leads to you. It always leads me home.”

Auston pulled you into a searing kiss, both of you smiling into it, before he squeezed your hand and reached for the box, carefully disassembling the bracelet so that he could put it on you at last.

“All day I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier. About running,” you spoke as Auston worked on securing the bracelet. “I started running and running and it’s been such a mess since then. Nothing about the past three years made any sense to me. And then I saw you, and… it all made sense again. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me,” you told him, your voice wavering as he twisted the final screw into place, lifting the inside of your wrist to his lips and placing a warm, reverent kiss to the skin there, his eyes never leaving yours as he did. “So I’m done. I’m done running, Auston. I can’t run anymore.”

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Auston admitted, touching his forehead to yours before leaning back. “So, to your earlier point... what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

You ran a frazzled hand through your long hair and bit at the inside of your cheek as you formulated your response. “I mean, I have to go back, Aus. I’m working on a really big project...”

Your words put him into a tailspin of his own this time, watching the dreams he had let resurface over the last two days come crashing down in front of him all over again. You were eluding him. Again.

His ears were buzzing so loudly that he barely heard your next words.

“But maybe after that... I could come and spend some time in Toronto?”

Auston pulled his tongue away from the roof of his dry mouth and pleaded, in a voice barely above a whisper, “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t say that unless you really mean it,” he said, desperation in his tone.

“I mean, really, I don’t have a choice,” you pointed out with a breathy laugh, your fingers tracing the cold metal of the bangle around your other wrist. “I don’t see any other way that this ends. Not after this. This perfect fucking weekend. I mean... do you?”

“No,” he quickly retorted. “No, I don’t. I was just scared that you... that this was going to be it for you. That we would have this incredible time together and then it would just be another chapter in the Auston and Kelsey history book.”

You smoothed your hands over his lapels, allowing your body to fully relax into his.

“Auston, this... this is different,” you said somberly. “Before, it all just felt like too much. I got scared. We were so young, Aus. I mean, we’re still young, but we were babies. And now... I’ve realized that dealing with the press and the social media and the fans... it’s worth it to me. I’ll never like it. But I love you. And that’s enough. That will always be more than enough for me — being with you. And I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long, that it took me finally coming back home, to realize that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Kels, please,” Auston whispered, one hand clutching at your hip, the other tangled in the hair at the back of your head as he held onto you with everything he had, knowing he was ready to do so for as long as you would let him. “Just... just say it again, baby. Please?”

“I love you, Aus,” you whispered, tears falling freely down your cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m never gonna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Auston pleaded, nuzzling his nose against yours before pressing his lips to your mouth. “Don’t ever stop. Promise?” he asked, his voice gravelly.

“Cross my heart,” you whispered, drawing a pretend line across your chest before cupping his cheek and kissing him tenderly.

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Glide (Miss Venable x reader)

a/n: hello :3 here we have another song fanfiction whoohoo- uhm Glide (by Lxandra) don't expect too much haha.. its angsty i guess lol :7 oh and its really long-

summary: I am really bad at this holy shit.. I guess its about the “"relationship” between you and Miss Venable (relationship is a weird word-)

warnings: alcohol, talking about depression and suicide (but nobody's actually depressed), notes of sex 

google translate :’D

"So, Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon finally said as he stepped around the table to stand in front of you.

"After telling me about your homosexuality, I would like to know if you are currently in love?"

You narrowed your eyes at the man in front of you.

"What kind of stupid question is that? Is this the part where we braid each other's hair and talk about our high school crushes?"

"Answer. My. Question.", the Man growled.

"Okay okay," you muttered quickly. "Uhm, well let me think about it for a minute."

--------------------

It all started when Miss Venable heard you scream one night.

You had been at Outpost 3 for a few months at this point and in all that time you hadn't spoken a lot and spent the entire time in your room except for meals.

The others didn't know much about you. They knew, you were one of the youngest residents of the Outpost and that you had left your family behind. And of course they knew your name. But that was all.

You spent a lot of time thinking about your family. Your relationship with your parents wasn't ideal, but you still missed them. And if you had known a year ago where you were today, you would have done a few things differently. Celebrating Christmas with them one last time, vacationing with them, simply spending the time peacefully with them instead of arguing.

Usually you cried quietly to yourself, with your head buried under your pillow, hoping, that everyone would forget you existed,  but crying wasn't enough tonight and after dinner you snuck into the kitchen to steal a bottle of the red wine, that you smuggled into your room afterwards.

It was now 1 a.m., the bottle was almost empty, and hours ago you had started tossing the items you had in your room. Your clothes were scattered on the floor, while you had tossed the boring books from the library against the wall. Your bed was a complete disaster and in all your anger you had torn the sheets. There were red wine stains on your pillows, which had almost slipped into the blazing fire of the fireplace after you tossed them off the bed.

And now all you could do was scream.

"Fuck you!" You shouted as you staggered in the room with the alcohol in one hand.

"Fuck you all! Fuck this apocalypse, fuck this outpost, fuck-"

"Miss Y / L / N" interrupted you a loud voice behind you and made you turn around.

Miss Venable was standing in the doorway in front of the locked door, staring at you in confusion.

"Ever heard of knocking?" You grumbled and hid the bottle behind your back.

"I knocked," Miss Venable hissed, her gaze wandering angrily over your chaos.

"And if you hadn't screamed so loud, you would probably have heard it. What the fuck do you think of making such a noise here at night? Stealing alcohol as well?"

"I uh- caught," you muttered as you put the bottle on the round table in front of you.

"Do you know what's really funny? We don't have anything to eat, but there is no end of alcohol. Whoever came up with that must be pretty stupid."

"It was my idea. I am in charge here, in case you forgot."

"Oh right," you sighed and slapped your forehead with the palm of your hand.

"Shit, well, i'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"You forgot my name?" Asked Miss Venable sharply with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," you muttered before collapsing onto your messy bed.

"But I know it was something weird."

Miss Venable glared at you, which of course you couldn't see because you were buried with your face in your blanket.

"Hopefully you realize this will be punished," she growled.

"Oh suck my dick", you grumbled. "You enjoy punishing others, don't you? You are a little psychopath"

You laughed softly into your blanket and noticed how you became more and more sleepy. You almost fell asleep if Miss Venable hadn't tapped her stick loudly on the floor.

"You will start cleaning up here immediately, otherwise it will be the last night you spend in this outpost."

"Oh shut up. You are totally mean to me," you moaned and pouted at the angry woman.

"Why are everyone always so mean to me? I haven't done anything wrong."

You got up on shaky legs to walk past her to the door, but you tripped and fell against Miss Venable.

"Wow," you mumbled as you stared into her brown eyes with your glassy ones and grabbed hold of her hips.

"I may not know your name, but I know,  that you are really pretty"

"What the fuck is wrong withyou ?! "

Wilhemina pushed you away from her so that you stumbled backwards and landed on the floor.

You stared out at her with hurt eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

"I didn't do anything," you yelled at Miss Venable, who was still leaning on her stick in front of you.

"It's not my fault, that you're beautiful. Be happy, others are ugly."

"That's enough," growled Miss Venable as she took a step towards you and grabbed your arm to pull you up.

"You're going to bed now."

"I'll do nothing," you mumbled and tried to pull yourself out of her grip, but you were way too drunk to use enough strength and she could push you like a doll on the bed.

You laughed again.

"Guess what, my bed is big enough for both of us, isn't that funny?"

You looked up at her playfully, or at least you tried.

"You beautiful woman. We-"

"Your behavior is disgusting," she interrupted as she leaned over to grab your chin. Immediately you fell silent.

"And my name is Miss Venable."

She looked down at you dangerously and you saw fire in her eyes when you started laughing out loud.

"Haha Miss Venable, I told you it was something weird," you shouted before you started screaming out loud.

"Miss Venable is beautiful whohoo. Can you all hear me? Miss Venable is beautiful. She-"

"What the hell", Miss Venable cut you off again and took her hand from your jaw to put it on your mouth.

"Are you going to be quiet at last?"

"M'sorry," you hummed against her hand and Miss Venable could see from the wrinkles around your eyes, that you were grinning under her hand.

"I want you to go to sleep now and clean up the chaos here tomorrow, do you understand me?" She asked in a sharp voice. But you just glared at her and wanted to bite her hand when she repeated her question.

"Do you understand me?" She barked louder and this time you nodded quickly.

"Good," she said happily as she took her hand from your mouth and straightened up again.

"Fuck you," you mumbled quietly and watched unhappily as the woman went to the sofa across from the fireplace and sat on it.

"Can't you just go?" You moaned as she leaned her cane against the edge of the sofa.

"Oh I'll go," she replied while staring into the fire.

"When you fell asleep."

You groan in annoyance.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Oh come on," you sighed and pulled your blanket over your head so she couldn't see you.

It was actually your plan to wait for her to go away, but at some point (who knows how much time had passed) you actually fell asleep.

Living my life in a bubble

Sometimes reality's too much for me

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Your love it gets me into trouble

Sometimes your gravity's too much for me

(It gets me weak in the knees)

------------

A week had passed and not much had happened. The next morning you woke up alone and with a big hangover and barely remembering what had happened the previous evening. Miss Venable had forced you to clean up the mess in your room after she had punished you for stealing the alcohol and as attractive as this woman was, she seemed genuinely angry about what had happened, even though it was actually nothing special. At least that's what you thought, but you couldn't remember either.

The world had ended and her problem was, that you had stolen a bottle of wine and ravaged your room. You wondered how fucked up her life must have been before the apocalypse, if that bothered her. And she wasn't the only one you wondered about.

The other residents of the outpost were all disgusting.

"Why do we have to eat this shit?"

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Why is life so unfair and let me be here with you idiots?"

You hate those ungrateful assholes. Everyone was dead and their only problem was, that they were still alive.

Other people deserved it so much more and the fact that mankind's only hope was in these conceited, stupid assholes seemed like a joke.

When you lay in bed that day and stared lost at the ceiling, you had lost all reference to reality. You didn't know what day it was or what month you were in. You also didn't know whether the last meal you ate was lunch or dinner, although a glance at the clock would have been enough. But you got tired of staring at the clock and watching the second hand, hoping something would happen.

Nothing changed anyway. And all you felt was that big feeling of loneliness that completely filled you. You were a very emotional person and all you wanted was someone who was normal. But everybody in this outpost was a huge disappointment. Conceited assholes, intimidated Grays and Miss Venable, who enjoyed punishing people.

Probably you would have started talking to yourself, but thank god you weren't there yet.

Sometimes you thought, it might be easier, if you opened up to others. But your body had become like a prison and you kept every thought trapped deep inside you because it did not match those of the others. Stupid assholes.

And while you continued to sink into your self-pity, you would probably have fallen asleep, if you hadn't been bothered by the sudden knock on your door.

"Fuck off," you moaned while staring angrily at the door, but the person standing in front of it only knocked one more time.

Asshole, you thought before reluctantly climbing out of bed to open your door.

"I said you should f- Oh Miss Venable," you stared at the woman in front of you.

"Are you here to punish me again for something pointless? If so, I can assure you it won't be necessary .. The wounds from last time still hurt, if you care."

Miss Venable screwed up her eyes.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, actually I don't care, but if it still hurts, you seem to have learned your lesson," she replied coldly and you just snorted in annoyance.

"What do you want from me?"

"You are obviously depressed-" she started and you interrupted her immediately.

"What is that shit supposed to mean? I'm not depressed, I'm just sad. And since when have you been interested in how I'm doing?"

You glared at her with narrowed eyes, but her face still had the same deadly serious expression.

"You've been sad for a long time, don't you think?"

"I- uh".

You looked at her confused.

"All my friends are dead, it's only logical that I feel that way .. I find it rather questionable, that I'm the only one here, who feels that way."

"So?" Miss Venable raised an eyebrow, which made you even more insecure.

"I don't really care how you feel either. I just don't feel like wiping your blood off should you decide to kill yourself."

"Suicide isn't always bloody," you muttered.

"And because we don't have any doctors here-"

"By the way, that's the stupidest thing of all. You know, we have a hairstylist, but no doctors, you also notice that it doesn't make any sense, right?" You interrupted her and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

And again Miss Venable ignored your words and finished her sentence, which you had interrupted.

"..I thought that would help too."

Your eyes widened when you saw what she was pulling out from behind her back and immediately you started laughing.

"Are you serious? First you punish me brutally for stealing a bottle of red wine and now you come to give me one?" You laughed and stared down at the bottle she was holding out to you.

"What's worse is, that you think alcohol is replacing therapeutic treatment. That's pretty sad to be honest, Miss Venable."

Wilhemina narrowed her eyes.

"It's not sad, I just prefer red wine stains instead of stains from your blood," she growled.

"You can't possibly be serious," you mumbled and suddenly had to grin.

"You enjoyed punishing me, right? And now you're coming, because you need a reason to do it again."

"Oh come on," Miss Venable rolled her eyes.

"Take the bottle or don't take it, it's just an offer."

You were still staring at her in amazement. What was wrong with her that she thought this action would solve your problems? Another proof of how fucked up everything was and that the only person you could count on was yourself.

"Uhm, well thank you, Miss Venable," you stuttered and reached for the bottle.

"If you come over every evening and bring me a bottle, your diagnosis may work and I will have very different problems, than my sadness."

"Not funny," muttered Miss Venable, her lips pressed together.

"Well, good evening, Miss Y / N."

She turned around and started to leave and you could only stare after her in confusion. Evening?

Then you actually had dinner earlier, even though you could have sworn it was only lunch.

"Maybe you want to join me-?" You asked suddenly and were just as surprised by this question as Miss Venable, who turned to you.

"What?"

"I don't think getting drunk on my own would be fun," you added, stepping nervously from one foot to the other.

"You did it a week ago," replied Miss Venable and in the torchlight you could see the lines of confusion on her face.

"But I never said it was fun," you smiled crookedly as your grip tightened on the neck of the bottle.

"And I think it would be nicer to do that, in the presence of another person. Especially since you've already seen me drunk."

You looked at Miss Venable expectantly, although you did not know exactly what you were doing. It was probably just your desperate attempt to get someone's attention, simply because everyone, who has ever cared about you was dead. And you knew Miss Venable might not be the best choice. But while the others complained aloud about their suffering and argued about who was worse off, Miss Venable didn't show such feelings and kept her thoughts to herself. A circumstance with which you could somehow identify.

"Okay," Miss Venable finally muttered, surprising you one more time that day.

"Well, great," you said before stepping out the door frame to go back to your room. You sat on the other end of the sofa, across from where she sat a week ago. In your hand there was still the bottle of red wine and for whatever reason you were ashamed of this situation. Miss Venable brought you alcohol because she thought, you could use it to manage your sadness, or depression (as she called it). And if she had actually meant well, which was actually questionable with her, then you had to make a pretty pathetic impression on others.

"You cleaned up the mess," you heard Miss Venable's voice behind you, but it was more of a determination than an acknowledgment.

"And I just noticed that we have no glasses at all".

Your shoulders sagged at her words and for a moment you were afraid she would leave. But you heard her close the door behind her before she went to the sofa and sat down on the exact same place, that she had been sitting on a week ago.

You watched the woman confused, leaning her cane against the sofa.

Her gaze lifted to you and she stared at you as expectantly as you looked at her confused.

"What are you waiting for? Go into the kitchen and get glasses," Miss Venable uttered.

You blinked in surprise.

"I- I didn't know that was a request," you muttered before jumping up from the sofa to run from your room into the kitchen.

When you ran back to your room 5 minutes later with two wine glasses, Miss Venable was still sitting on the ugly fabric sofa just as she had done a few minutes earlier. And somehow there was something aesthetic about it.

Personally, you thought it was ridiculous, that everyone had to adapt to the Victorian style, just because she wanted to. But it was perfect for Miss Venable. As if it was made for it. Her red hair, which she always pinned up so strictly, then her almost black eyes and the lipstick. Also her pale skin and her cane. Even her strict personality perfectly matched the style of clothing.

"Do you want to stay in the door frame and stare at me, or are you finally coming now," Wilhemina hissed suddenly without moving even an inch and immediately a slight blush rose in your face.

"M'sorry," you muttered and quickly closed the door before going back to the sofa. After you sat down, you put the glasses in front of you on the table, where the wine bottle was now.

"I was just wondering," you explained as you poured the wine into your glasses.

"Why the Victorian style of all things?"

"Why not? It looks good," replied Miss Venable, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you began before turning to give her her glass.

"The world is ending and you make us wear 10kg dresses, because you think it looks good?"

"Any better idea?" Miss Venable asked back, putting the glass to her lips.

"Uhm I, i don't know," you stuttered and watched Miss Venable as she drank her wine.

"Don't we have to be prepared somehow or something like that?"

You heard Miss Venable laugh quietly into her glass.

"Prepared?" She repeated with a small grin and put her glass back on the table.

"On what? For the aliens to come and get us out of here?"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you mumbled before you put your glass to your lips to take a sip of the bitter liquid and while you were drinking you could feel her gaze digging into your skin.

"By the way, I also find it very questionable what kind of people live in this outpost," you added, setting your Glas next to hers on the table.

Wilhemina let out a laugh. It was one of those laughs that you couldn't tell whether it was meant honestly or sarcastically.

"I'm not surprised you say that," she muttered.

"Is my dislike of the others that obvious?" you asked confused.

"I don't know if obviously this is the right word .. But what I do know, is that you always look disgusted when you see them, so I'm assuming you don't like them and to be honest, I like them neither.

Your confusion turned to laughter.

"Well," you said.

"With you it is obvious that you don't like any of them."

"These people are just as competent as they were poor. They are only here because of their money," she said disapprovingly.

You sighed thoughtfully.

"It's kind of sad, that money was the way in here. Scientists would have been so much more valuable. I'm only here because my grandfather had the money."

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" She asked you and you were surprised by this honest question.

"I went to college to study history," you replied when your gaze wandered into the fire.

"So I can  judge that the Victorian style wasn't the most practical choice."

You heard Miss Venable snort in annoyance and you couldn't help but grin.

"And what did you do before the apocalypse?" You asked, turning your gaze back to her. Miss Venable seemed as surprised by your question as you were by hers.

"It's a little tricky," she began. "Basically, I built human robots."

"Robots?"

"Robots."

For a moment you stared at her in amazement. Miss Venable had averted her gaze from you and directed it to the wine glass in front of her.

"M'sorry, but if you've built human robots, why are you letting real people, the Grays, work for us? Wouldn't robots have been revolutionary in an apocalypse?"

Unlike you, Miss Venable seemed totally unaffected by this.

You watched as the redhead reached for her wine glass and took another sip of the blood red liquid.

"You are asking too many questions for my taste, Miss Y / L / N," said Miss Venable softly, putting her glass back on the table. And even though she kept her voice low, you could hear her indirect threat.

"To be honest, I'm amazed, that I'm the only one asking questions," you replied, trying to make eye contact with the woman next to you again, but Miss Venable's gaze was tied to the blazing fire in the fireplace and you could see a dark glint in their eyes.

"You shouldn't get involved in things that are none of your business," she said suddenly in a monotonous voice. "All over the world there are survivors and it is not your job to question my system, nobody has the right to do so. You are just one stupid survivor of many, nothing more"

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

----------------------

"Oh c'mon," you moaned and ran your tousled hair.

"God must hate me".

You stood on shaky legs from the library floor, that you fell on after stumbling into the room. You brushed the dirt off your skirt and realized with gritted teeth, that it was ruined.

"Seems like someone is having a bad day," you suddenly heard a voice say and immediately your mood worsened.

You straighten up again to meet Miss Venable's eyes. The woman sat on the right of the two leather sofas and with one hand clutched her cane, which was propped on the floor.

"Fuck you", you hissed before you let yourself fall on the sofa across from her.

"Oh, someone is having a very bad day," added Miss Venable, and you didn't have to look at her to see, that she was amused by your behavior,

"Yes, my day sucks and guess what, it's all your fault," you growled and glared angrily at her stick.

"When I got up this morning and wanted to leave my room, I got stuck in the door with my blouse and the whole sleeve was torn. Did you also notice, how much you sweat in these clothes? It's really hard to go at the toilet with these clothes .. I'm sorry, but what the hell was your idea, when you decided to give us a Victorian dress code? Did you have to make our life after the apocalypse even harder ? "

You pressed angrily your lips together and screwed up your eyes.

"You are the only person who complains about it," said Miss Venable and sounded not quite as amused as a minute before. You let out a dry laugh.

"The others are too scared of you, to tell you that," you said bitterly.

"Besides, what the hell are you doing here?"

You tore your gaze away from her stick to look directly into her dark eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Because you're never here and you didn't look like someone who'd like to hang out with Mr. Gallant or Coco."

"Well, neither Mr. Gallant nor Miss St. Pierre Vanderbilt are here right now, right? And besides, I could ask you the same thing", Miss Venable replied indifferently and somehow she was right. It was also a rarity to see you in the library as you actually spent most of the time in your room.

"I suppose my great sadness is over now .. or as you called it 'depression'. I'm more in the mood right now, that I don't care and I am angry at everything and now you are my victim. Your lipstick is smeared by the way", you sighed, although that was actually a lie, her lipstick was perfect as always. But in fact her eyes widened slightly and you couldn't help but enjoy this view.

"You're lying," hissed Miss Venable and you had to grin.

"Maybe".

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe you'd better go and see, or you risk the others seeing you ruined makeup."

It was obvious that Miss Venable was a perfectionist woman and she wasn't going to let her position of power be challenged over a smeared lipstick. On the other hand, you were an extremely bad liar and Miss Venable wasn't stupid.

"You're lying," she repeated, only with her lips pressed together, giving you the sense of achievement you wanted.

"Mhh Miss Venable," you hummed as your eyes found her stick again.

"This cane .. when I saw you for the first time, I wondered if it was just a symbol of power or if you really needed it-"

"..And then you saw me walk with it," added Miss Venable with a bitter tone in her voice.

"Oh no," you quickly shook your head.

"It wasn't your walk that gave me the confirmation that you really need the stick. It could never be your walk, you walk so majestically with that stupid thing, that even people, who don't really need a cane and only use it as an accessory would look handicapped next to you."

It was probably a rather desperate attempt to put the whole thing in a compliment and Miss Venable did not answer your words either, but you could see in the glow of the fire how her pale skin turned a light red shade and that was enough for you.

"It was your grip to be honest," you continued.

Miss Venable frowned.

"My grip?"

"Yes," you nodded and started playing with the fabric of your skirt.

"Your fingers are always clenched so tightly around the handle, as if you wanted it to break through. As if you were trying to strangle it or something like that, i dont know."

The furrow on Wilhemina's forehead only got a little wider with your words.

"You seem to spend a lot of time watching what my hands are doing," she mumbled and this time it was you, who blushed.

"It was just an observation, that I made on the side," you stammered quickly when you realized, that from one moment to the next the conversation had taken a completely wrong direction. Miss Venable did not answer again and you did not have the courage to look her face again and so the next few seconds were filled with an embarrassing silence, although you could imagine that Miss Venable was enjoying your discomfort.

"May I take a look at your cane-?" You finally asked to break the silence.

"You want to take a look at my cane?" Repeated Miss Venable, surprised with raised eyebrows.

"Only if it's okay," you said quickly.

"You are the first person, who asks me that".

Miss Venable looked thoughtfully down at her cane, which was still in her hand.

"As I said, the others are too scared of you-"

"The others don't care," Miss Venable interrupted, and you didn't know if she was sad about it or if she didn't care. But we're talking about Wilhemina Venable, she probably didn't care.

The red-haired woman sighed before holding out her stick to you.

You grinned and tried to grab the staff, but before your fingers could touch the wood, Miss Venable pulled it back again.

"How can I be sure, that you won't break it up and use it to make firewood?", She asked you and you looked at her in horror.

"I would probably be the last person to do that," you said indignantly.

"On the contrary, I think you would be the only person in this outpost who would dare to."

Miss Venable held out her stick to you again and this time she let you reach for it.

You immediately noticed how light the wood was in your hand as you carefully ran your fingers over the stick.

"What kind of wood is that?" You asked quietly without looking up from her walker.

"I guess it was blackthorn".

Your fingers moved on to the handle of the stick, which was probably the most interesting thing. A metal handle in the shape of a raven skull served as a support for the hand.

"Doesn't that hurt?".

You lifted your gaze back to Miss Venable, who obviously didn't understand what to do with your question.

"Well, if I had to support myself with all my weight on this skull, it would hurt," you added and Wilhemina just shrugged her shoulders.

"Uhm, it's a beautiful cane," you muttered, handing it back to her.

"May I ask why you need it?"

"I don't know what this should have gotten to do with you," replied Miss Venable, not sounding as nice as before. If you could call it "nice".

"Okay okay, taboo subject, I got it," you said quickly, desperately searching your head for anything to keep the conversation going.

"Do you actually enjoy it? To have control over everyone here? And know that, that almost everyone is afraid of you?", You finally asked and leaned back against the sofa.

"You asked me that a few weeks ago, when you were drunk," remarked Miss Venable, looking down at her gloved fingers, which were wrapped around her cane again.

"Really?" You asked confused.

"More or less. It was more of an accusation."

"An accusation?"

Miss Venable hummed in agreement.

"I told you, that you would be punished for your behavior and you said I would enjoy it."

"I understand," you mumbled, still staring hard at her face.

"What else happened that evening?"

A smug smile danced on Wilhemina's lips and she took a moment to consider your question.

"Well, you made fun of my name," she finally began as she drummed her fingers on the skull-like handle of her stick.

"And then you said, that I was pretty and that I should be happy about it, because other people are ugly."

Your eyes froze as her words entered your brain.

Wrong turn. Wrong turn.

"Uhm .. You know, when I'm drunk I tend to perceive things a lot more intensely than they actually are and then I exaggerate occasionally," you tried desperately to get yourself out of this situation, but Miss Venable just let out a loud laugh and you realized, that you had failed miserably. You cleared your throat briefly and sat up straight again.

"You haven't answered my question yet," you said, trying to change the subject again.

"I wanted to know, if you enjoy all of this."

"Do I enjoy it if you don't obey my rules? No, I don't enjoy that, why should I?" Miss Venable said and again had that indifferent sound in her voice. Of course you knew that she had bypassed your question and that was enough to prove, that she enjoyed her monarchy in Outpost 3.

"You said earlier, that you had got over your grief. That's good to hear," said Miss Venable, and this time she was the one who changed the subject.

"I thought you didn't care what I felt".

You smiled contentedly and cocked your head. Somehow you liked this game of mutual debunking.

"I don't care either, I just wanted to be polite."

Your smile widened when you saw her fingers clench a little tighter around her stick.

"Miss Venable and polite, I don't think this is a well-working combination," you teased her and in the glow of the fire you could see her roll her eyes.

"You were a lot less tiring, when you were crying in your room all day," she muttered disapprovingly.

Why should it be such a struggle

When it means so much to you and me?

(I trip and fall into a dream)

Built like a ship in a bottle

Gotta handle you so delicately

------------------

I don't know what we got

But I know what I want

The silence is killing me softly

What. The. Fuck.

When you arrived at the Outpost a few months ago, you couldn't even have imagined in your deepest dreams, that you would ever end up in this situation.

You lay on your back, still staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Only now did you notice, that you had your arms wrapped around your chest and that your fingernails were digging painfully into the flesh of your shoulder. Your body lay rigid in her bed and you couldn't move an inch. You desperately tried to put the things that had happened in the right order.

Was it a stupid idea to go in Miss Venable's Bedroom? Yes, definitely. In retrospect, you didn't even know what exactly you wanted there. And actually you should have disappeared, after you saw that Wilhemina hadn't even been there. But no, of course your curious ass had to inspect her entire room.

And by the time Miss Venable came out of her bathroom in her pajamas, you had already started counting in your head how many punches Miss Mead was going to give you as punishment. You had definitely crossed the line.

But it turned out very differently than expected. Miss Venable had been angry anyway, very angry, but her anger was not expressed in words. The woman had pressed you against the wall and before you could do anything about it, her hand had slipped under your skirt, between your legs and Miss Venable had broken her own rule.

Of course you could have pushed her away, but it felt so right. You wanted so badly for someone to pay you attention and Miss Venable had kind of given you just that, when she pressed you against the wall and fucked you senselessly.

The whole thing was just so emotionless. You hadn't been able to look at her. You were ashamed of every sound you made, and if Miss Venable hadn't put her hand over your mouth, everyone in the Outpost would probably have heard you scream.

Which wouldn't have been so practical, because this man had come here a few days ago and you knew he was interviewing all the residents for the sanctuary and it wouldn't have been very beneficial for you if he'd caught you, breaking you down Venables rules. Regardless of the fact, that she had broken her rule herself.

Miss Venable hadn't said a single word about what had happened a few minutes ago, as if she had absolutely no need to justify herself.

She hadn't even looked at you when she took her hands off you and wiped them with a kleenex.

"You can sleep here tonight," she had muttered.

"It would be noticeable if you left my room now."

And now you lay next to her in bed and tried to understand all of this. Your dress was messy on the floor and all you had on was your underwear. After your fingers relaxed, you had pulled the blanket, that she wordlessly gave you over you and clung desperately to the fabric.

You had calmed down and could now hear her breathing next to you. The fact, that she was just lying next to you and probably sleeping was disturbing. At least, she could have apologized, right? Although, that didn't make sense either, because you obviously enjoyed what had happened.

You carefully turned your head towards her and saw, that her back was turned to you. And you wondered if she was really sleeping or just pretending. Miss Venable had become your most private contact in the outpost and you didn't really know what that actually meant.

You wanted so badly to touch her, but you didn't know if you had the right to do so. Only now did you notice the scars on her back, that shone through the light nightgown. Add to that the snake-like curve of her spine and suddenly you understood why she needed her stick.

"You have scoliosis," you said your thoughts out loud and you heard her hold her breath.

"Congratulations," she hummed miserably.

"You figured it die out."

You nervously began to chew your lower lip.

"Did I make anything wrong?" You asked quietly.

"Ask yourself how you got into this situation, then you will know."

"I- do you want me to go?", Your voice sounded sadder than you actually wanted.

When Miss Venable didn't answer, you felt tears welling up in your eyes as the feeling of fear grew inside you. You screwed it up. Probably the next evening you would end up like Stu as stew.

"No," Miss Venable suddenly whispered before turning to you. The red-haired woman had a blank expression on her face while she watched you cry.

She raised her hand as if to wipe the tears from your face, but she lowered it again and you had to do it yourself.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"You're stupid if you apologize," Miss Venable replied bluntly.

"That was more than just unprofessional of me, I should have let you go and tomorrow you would have been punished."

You looked at her sadly.

"That's the only solution, isn't it? Punishment."

"I don't know exactly what you're getting at? It's actually quite simple. Those are my rules and whoever doesn't stick to them will be punished for it", Miss Venable looked at you unimpressed and you returned her gaze thoughtfully.

"What about Michael Langdon? Does he have to obey your rules too?" You finally asked.

"What does this mean?"

"Uhm well, I guess I've known you for 18 months now and the first time you seem scared."

Miss Venable raised her eyebrows.

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not even remotely an emotional chaos as you are."

Emotional chaos. Okay she had a point. You blinked a few times to force the tears, that were still glistening in your eyes back down.

"I don't know if emotional chaos is the right word," you muttered.

"You should think less about your stupid feelings," Miss Venable sighed, turning away from you again.

"They've only got you in trouble so far if you ask me."

You pressed your lips together and had to suppress an angry comment, that would only confirm her accusation. Your eyes stared at her back again. The red curls of her long hair had slipped behind her shoulders and were now curling on her back. You would have loved to stretch out your hand to touch it. You would have loved to curl up in her arms to feel safe for the first time in over a year. You wanted to kiss her. Or at least hold her hand. Anything. Just a little bit of their affection would have been enough and you would have been happy. It probably all sounds kind of selfish, because she fucked you a few minutes ago. The whole thing just wasn't particularly loving. You felt like a disgusting animal and now you wanted her to show you, you weren't. Miss Venable was only a few inches away from you and all you had to do was hold out your hand and you would feel her warmth. But while it was actually only a few centimeters, you realized, that there were worlds between you and this woman and that she was probably never further away from you than at this moment.

You and I, we just glide

Through the night

We just drive, we get by

We just glide

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

-------------------------

Wilhemina Venable had a great talent at pretending everything was fine.

As if nothing happened. Nothing had changed in the days after that night.

Since Michael Langdon was at the Outpost, she avoided private contact with you and the fact, that you had shared a bed didn't change that. In addition, she was just as disgusting to you in front of the others as always and that was nothing new either. And while Wilhemina no longer seemed to care about what had happened between you two, at the same time it almost killed you.

You actually expected, that she would want to talk to you about it again, but nothing had happened and that made you angry. Miss Venable would always deny it, but she was the only one who cared about you. And you appreciated her weird way of paying attention to you so much.

The only problem was, you couldn't even begin to imagine, what was going on in her head. While you were acting like a lovesick teenager, the only thing you saw of her was her deadly serious face.

Oh and Miss Venable was right, you were a fucking emotional mess. Since you woke up the next morning in her empty bed, you have cried a lot again and spent a lot of time in your room, but this time Miss Venable would probably not come to offer you alcohol as medication.

It was the afternoon of any day and you were sitting on the floor, leaning against your bed. In one hand you held a pair of scissors, while in the other you held the skirt of your dress. You were still not used to wearing long skirts after so many months and you still kept poking around at yourself, when walking through the outpost, so you decided to cut your skirts short. Of course you knew, that Wilhemina would probably kill you, if she saw you, breaking her sacred dress code, but fuck Wilhemina. At least you could finally walk properly again.

The triple knock on your door made you look up from your work and you got up to go to the door. You probably should have known it was Miss Venable who knocked. Who else has been interested in you, in the past few months?

"We need to talk," said the red-haired woman firmly, without looking at you.

You just nodded and stepped out of the door frame to make room for her.

For a brief moment you were afraid, that Miss Venable would get angry about the dress, that was lying shortened on the floor next to the scissors, but she just ignored it and stood across from you.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N, I'm just here to ugh- "

Miss Venable was interrupted by you when you, you stupid idiot, reached for her face to angrily press your lips against hers. The kiss only lasted a second in total, because Miss Venable immediately pushed you away from her and the next thing you felt was her hand lashing angrily against your right cheek. A horrified gasp escaped your lips and you looked at Wilhemina in horror as you rubbed your cheek.

"If you do that again, I'll kill you," the redhead growled, glaring at you angrily.

You looked at her hurt and felt tears start to sting in your eyes.

"M'sorry," you muttered.

"Oh of course you are," hissed Miss Venable.

"What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I just- I don't know," you stuttered desperately.

"I think I love you".

Miss Venable's eyes narrowed and she looked like she was going to punch you again.

"This is not love, this is despair, you stupid thing."

"Despair?" You breathed in horror.

"How else would you describe your behavior?" She spat and angrily started knocking her stick on the floor.

"I mean, look at you. You are a total mess. Either you cry in your room all day or you are angry at everything and everyone. You are the only person, who ruins her clothes. You are the one which most often breaks my rules, just because you are too unable to deal with your feelings. You know, everyone can handle what happened, except you, because you are so damn selfish. But you have to wake up.. Do you think, that was what I wanted, when you cried into my bed a few days ago? Oh no. And I know that, was my fault too. You know, everything what I want, is that you obey my rules, but that seems to be too much for your incompetent ass ", Wilhemina scolded and angrily knocked her stick on the floor.

"And now you come and say you love me."

She shook her head.

"As I said, this is not love, this is despair. And I don't know what kind of answer you were hoping for, from me, but let me be clear: In my opinion, of all the residents of the Outpost, you are the most pathetic and I hate you, I really do and you're sick if you even thought it would be different. "

You stared at her in shock. The feeling, that rose in you at that moment was indescribable. A mixture of disgust, shame and anger. But also the feeling of betrayal. And you couldn't say who these feelings were for, for you or for Wilhemina.

"Y-you hate me?" You stuttered, wiping the back of your hand over your cheek to remove your tears.

"I hate everyone in this outpost, that includes you too," hissed Miss Venable.

You shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't believe you," you whispered.

"I still believe, that you are scared and that is why you act like that."

"Mister Langdon will interview you tomorrow," said Miss Venable without responding to your comment.

"If you tell him anything about what happened a few days ago, I promise you will wish you were never born. With your condition, you probably won't be in the sanctuary anyway, but I will don't let me spoil this opportunity from you. Do you understand me? "

You shook your head.

"I don't understand what your problem is suddenly ... I asked you that evening if I should go and you said no."

"The whole thing was a mistake, nothing more", Miss Venable growled quietly and stepped past you to go to your door.

"I hate you and you hate me, that's all that's between us, you understand?"

You wanted to say something, but you decided not to, it didn't make any sense anyway.

"I understand," you said softly.

"Good," replied Miss Venable before turning and walking out of your room.

You stared after her sadly. Of course you didn't understand why she was suddenly so mad at you, but how could you? Miss Venable had wanted to end whatever was between you, so that she would not feel guilty if you were to be murdered by her in a few days. She had never meant to offend you, but she had to make it clear to herself, that she didn't love you. She just couldn't love you.

Show me freedom

'Cause love don't cost a thing

Give me freedom

Yeah don't just let me leave

--------------------

"Miss Y / L / N", Mister Langdon barked and slapped the table with the palm of his hand. You winced and looked disturbed into the blond man's eyes.

"I asked you something".

He leaned down to you and his face was only a few inches from yours.

"Are you in love?"

You swallowed and blinked a few times, before you whispered softly:

"I am not."

The man leaned back and looked at you thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Well, Miss Y / L / N," he finally sighed.

"You can go."

Without looking at the man again, you got up to run out of the room. You tripped and if you hadn't held onto the wall next to the door, you would have fallen. For a moment you leaned against the wall with your eyes closed and took a deep breath.

This man was disgusting and a little too intimate for your taste, no wonder, that no one liked him.

You opened your eyes again and realized, that Miss Venable was staring down at you as she leaned against the railing.

Your eyes were lost in hers, her almost black eyes in which the light of the torches is always reflected. You wanted to say something, but you were afraid, that she would leave and you didn't want that. Miss Venable had put on her indifferent expression as always and, as always, you did not know what was going on inside the woman.

Your lips formed a mute "fuck you" when you saw her turn away from you to move. And the faint tapping of her cane proved to you, that she was indeed leaving and you knew that she would not come back.

Maybe we're just fooling in foolish imagination

Got no destination in sight

You and I, we get by

We just glide

[shutteredislands]

REYLO MODERN AU FIC RECS

Hi!! I spent my entire winter break reading reylo fics and I feel like I’ve found some gems! I’m boring and don’t like angst, so most of these are pretty fluffy, however, always read the tags before reading. Anyways, happy reading!

Already Home -  College, Roommates, A/B/O, Soulmates AU - Complete - Rated E - 79k

“Oh stop being all Alpha-y.” She flexes her foot, rolling her ankle as if to prove a point, and he doesn’t miss the wince that crosses her expression. “You aren’t my Alpha, and you definitely aren't my soulmate,” she mutters.

He can’t help but let out a dry laugh. “Thank god for small mercies.”

Okay so this is a trope fest but it was so good! I’m not gonna explain the plot in depth because I think going in blind is best for this!

Baby, It's Just Biology - Professor/Student, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 113k

For Rey Jackson, trying to finish your degree in Biomedical Science at Harvard is difficult enough when you're one of the few Omegas on campus.

It's made even more difficult when your Professor is the one to trigger your heat. You can't help it, it's just your biology.

An Alpha Omega love story.

This is the perfect balance of angst, fluff and pure smut. This one Is a lot angstier than anything else on this list, but you can see every stage of this relationship and I loved it so much! Please read the tags on this one!

I’ve got you (under my skin) - Nanny/Single Parent AU - On Hiatus - Rated E - 81k

“Hi, I’m Rey. I’m here for the—”

“Nanny,” Ben blurts out dazedly, still trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts. “You’re the nanny.”

Her smile hitches up a little wider. “Well, I might be.”

Suddenly, Ben thinks he might be in for a whole new world of problems.

Because Rey Johnson is still most likely the only thing standing between him and disaster, that much hasn’t changed, not by a long shot.

And Ben can’t seem to stop staring at her mouth.

In which Ben hires Rey to watch his son... but he can’t seem to stop watching her.

Okay so I almost never read WIPs, but this one was left off in a pretty good place so don’t worry about cliffhangers or anything. I am a sucker for single dad!Ben so expect more of these. I loved this fic so much and get ready for a SMUTFEST.

Light My Fire - Rivals to Lovers, College, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 20k

When rivals Ben and Rey break into a professor's office together, it comes out that Rey might not be the Beta she thinks she is.

I’ve never been the biggest reader of enemies to lovers, until this. This was so so so good! I loved their banter so much, and this is another smutfest lol.

Peacock - Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, Neighbors AU - Complete - Rated E - 72k

Thanks to a series of misunderstandings, failed attempts at flirting, and loud Katy Perry music, Ben grows to hate his new neighbor.

Proposing to her wasn't the best solution to his problems.

This is, hands down, one of the funniest fics I have ever read. I cried actual tears because of how funny this is. Slowish burn, but their banter will keep you engaged the whole time. I love this so much!!

An Unexpected Vacation - Scientist, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 62k 

“You don’t care that someone, that people will watch you fuck?” He looks two seconds away from puking. “Like multiple, multiple people will be able to describe your vagina. They’ll probably analyze it in a boardroom. Someone will feel proud about a shitty PowerPoint full of annotated pictures. They will use words like ‘arousal fluid’ and consult charts and these things will never not be digitally saved. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Are you suggesting my vagina is unworthy of analysis?”

--

In which Rey attempts to bolster her bank account by volunteering to fuck an Alpha in a scientific study. Plans go pear-shaped when she accidentally triggers scientist!Ben’s first Rut.

This was a really funny smutfest and I loved that. I loved Rey and Ben so much, and Ben was the perfect “I hate everyone but you” boyfriend! I love this!

She Doesn’t Normally Bite - Single Parent/Teacher AU - WIP - Rated E - 37k

Ben Solo is a single dad to 6-year old Ellis. Her teacher isn't the old-cat lady that he expects and naturally, sparks fly when they meet. Rey helps show Ben that he is allowed to be happy and the romance is DELICIOUS. There will be the happy ending we all deserve.

Both Ben and Rey have a lot to navigate, and of course - things are never straight forward.

Tw: Bens wife died when their daughter was born - whilst it is mentioned periodically, it does not form a significant part of the story. There'll also be warnings in the notes for the particular chapters it'll be mentioned in.

THIS THE ONLY WIP I WILLL EVER READ REY AND BEN ARE SO FREAKING CUTE AND ELLIS IS SUCH A CUTE KID AHHHHHHH! That is all.

Down an Inch, Up an Inch - A/B/O, Soulmates, Gym Rats AU - Complete - Rated E - 60k

Omega instructor Rey has always been the master of her domain at Rebel Belle Barre and wouldn't dream of dating an Alpha.

When her new neighbors at Supremacy Bootcamp start ruining her classes with their terrible music, she storms over to give them a piece of her mind. She challenges the beefy ex-Marine owner Ben Solo to a plank-off and the loser has to take the other's class. When they spark an unusual connection, can Rey stay away for long?

Has she bitten off more than she can chew with the gentle giant Alpha with the warm, sad eyes?

SMUT FREAKING FESTTTTT. Okay but I loved these two so much, even though I am opposed to working out in any shape or form! I love the non-traditional soulmate part, and I really loved Rey in this. 

Tea for Two - Enemies to Lovers, University Setting AU - Complete - Rated E - 67k 

'"This is a tea house, you know." The plummy, ultra-posh voice startled Rey Kenobi from her day-dreaming, almost spilling the scalding hot coffee over her chest.'

Rey, an American former hacker, turned cyber security expert, has been commissioned by Oxford University to protect their systems from hackers. Unfortunately, she has to work closely with Professor Ben Solo, Merton Professor of English Literature who also happens to be Lord Ben Solo, member of the English peerage. And an unmitigated snob.

She drinks coffee. He drinks tea. He only reads classic literature. She reads Marvel comics. He is nobility. She is a nobody.

Things should go swimmingly, shouldn't it?

SO. MUCH. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. I loved the slow burn aspect because I sat in bed because I was waiting for them to bone for so long. And after they bone its a smut and fluff-fest I loved this so much!

And They Were Roommates - Roommates, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

“This isn’t going to work.” He points a finger between the two of them. “This arrangement.”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t put any specifications on who could apply.”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck then, the action making it look longer, making her wonder what it might feel like under her fingers. “You have to know that this isn’t a good idea.”

She knows what he means, she does—but she’s so tired of being brushed aside for her designation that she challenges him anyway. “And why not?”

His eyes bore into hers, his expression blank as he says, “Because I can tell how much scent-block you put on—and I can still smell you.”

In which Rey’s new roommate turns out to be a lot more than she bargained for.

EVEN. MORE. UNRESOLVED. SEXUAL. TENSION. Like these two would be eating cereal and I would be chanting, “bone! bone! bone!” the whole time. I loved these two, and the family aspect of this one was so good.

Imprints - A/B/O, Boss/Employee AU - Complete - Rated E - 74k

“I was happy you’ll be working with someone you know. He’ll take good care of you.”

Take good care of you.

The words send a shiver down her spine, sparking memories that flood her with embarrassment. She feels a strange itch just below her ear, her gland giving a phantom pulse as if her body remembers the incident even still.

Suddenly her triumph fades into dread, the idea of working here leaving a hollow pit in her stomach. Poe is still talking, but she doesn’t hear most of it. Her mind is firmly trapped in the vivid memories of six years ago— in a moment she wishes she could forget.

By the time she hangs up the phone— she isn’t sure anymore if she can do this.

Okay so this is pretty popular so I wont say too much, but it lives up to the hype. Smutfest, fluff and angst rolled into one beautiful fic! 

Bespoke - Enemies to Lovers, Boss/Employee (?) AU - Complete - Rated E - 38k 

When new stylist Rey Jackson receives a request to dress the hottest (and most unfashionable) new actor in Hollywood, she gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Mentally AND physically.

Because Ben Solo is freaking massive.

THIS WAS SO HOT OMG! Smutfest but also super cute. Another “I hate everyone but you” version of Ben I fell in love with. Loved this!

Incognito - Coworkers AU - Complete - Rated E - 30k

“Somehow Rey’s coworkers find out about her Daddy kink. They all kink shame her for it, except her coworker Ben. He has something else in mind.”

This was so funny! Ben and Rey were so cute, and I love Finn and Rose in this too! This was great!

A Home For Christmas - Single Parent, Sugar Daddy AU - Complete - Rated E - 109k

Rey is a struggling single mother who needs to do right by her daughter, even if it means she needs to steal. Ben is sad and lonely, recently divorced for the second time. When Rey's daughter picks him to help her find her mom, their paths cross and their Christmas becomes a little more bright.

This was so freaking cute OMG!! I know I say that a lot, but this was so adorable! I loved Ben and Rey so much, but Nova was obviously the star of the show. I cannot recommend this enough!

Unsuppressed - Office, A/B/O AU - Complete - Rated E - 49k

Rey had only ever encountered two Alphas in her entire life that had been unsuppressed. And now this third one that stunk up the entire building. Not that it stunk, his scent. In fact, it was the most delicious thing Rey had ever smelled. ///////////////////////////////////// Ben Solo closed his eyes as he rode down the elevator from the 40th floor to the lobby, trying not to reach up to his glands to scratch them. Somehow, it felt like he always caught the elevator that was dripping in the Omega’s scent. The one that wandered around the building without any suppressants. The one that smelled better than any Omega he had ever smelled before.

STRAIGHT FLUFF AND SMUT OMFG!!! I loved this so freaking much! This was whatever the opposite of unresolved sexual tension and slow burn. Like Ben and Rey tried to make this a slow burn but they could not keep their hands off of each other. I loved this!

Sunshine and Gunpowder - Hitman, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 48k

She’s a teacher who would do anything to protect her student. He’s a glorified hitman with a heart of black gold.

Together, they make up odd halves of a beautiful whole.

THIS WAS SO CUTE!! Like, yes, I know Ben is a hitman, but when I tell you he was the softest hit man I have ever read, Temiri was so cute in this! I loved Ben and Rey, and their UST made me love them even more. Han and Leia are also hilarious in this! 

It Takes a Village - A/B/O, Surprise Parents AU - Complete - Rated E - 40k 

Who knew that all it would take for Rey Johnson to interact with her enigmatic Alpha neighbor without wanting to melt into a puddle of hormones was a baby being abandoned at her doorstep?

Not her. That was for sure.

THIS IS THE CUTEST ONE YET! I REREAD THIS QUITE OFTEN! LIKE AHHHHHHH SO FREAKING FLUFFY! NOT EVEN A WHISPER OF ANGST AND A LOT OF SMUT I LOVED THIS SO FREAKING MUCH AHHHH! AND THE EPILOGUE MADE ME CRY!

Sensual Storytime - Office AU - Complete - Rated E - 23k

When Rey Johnson starts a new job, her initially antagonistic relationship with Ben Solo from IT turns into friendship... and maybe something more.

Little does she know he also moonlights as Kylo Ren, the creator of her favorite audio erotica. One day at the office, worlds collide, and she realizes the sweater vest-wearing nerd of her dreams is also the tattooed fantasy man she listens to while getting off every night...

THIS IS MY FAVORITE REYLO FIC EVER. I RECOMMEND THIS TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T EVEN LIKE STAR WARS! THIS IS COWORKER BANTER LIKE NO OTHER. AND THE SMUT ? UNPARALLELED. READ THIS NOW!

That is all I have time for right now, but I’ll make another list later if anyone would like that! Please take care of yourself and have a great day! 

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Ten: When it Rains

a/n: hi besties!! This one is... tough I’m ngl to y’all. It is the second to the last chapter which is so wild to think about, but alas all good things must come to an end. Hopefully you don’t hate me too much by the end of it but feel free to vent in my inbox :))) much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor, ANGST (!!)

Word Count: 7.4 k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine

“Is that my shirt?”

“No,”

Alani squints at the cartoon bee printed on Harry’s white t-shirt and crosses her arms in disbelief. 

“Yes it is! I’ve been looking for it everywhere,”

“Don’t worry, you can have it back soon,” he admits, crawling back into his bed with an apologetic kiss to her pouting lips. “Doesn’t smell like you anymore,”

“Thief,”

Harry scoffs and props himself up on an elbow. “Don’t act like my Spice World jumper isn’t hanging at the foot of your bed right now,”

“You left it there,” Alani defends. “I was merely being kind and looking after said hoodie because it was abandoned by its owner,”

“Oh yeah and you’ve fought real hard to reunite us,”

“Can we get back to the main issue at hand? Which is that I’m kinda pissed off that you look better in that shirt than I do.”

Harry chuckles to himself and presses an affectionate kiss to her temple. “You’re too kind.”

Alani rests her cheek against his chest and listens to the rain pattering harshly against the window, admiring the flashes of lightning that illuminate the dimly lit room. Harry had convinced her to stay the night, worried about her driving home alone in the storm, and he was met with very little resistance. Secretly, he thanks the rain gods for allowing him another night to hold her close. 

********

“H, you gotta tell her,” Jeff had warned the previous night. “I already pushed the flight back a week—”

“I know,” Harry huffed. “I just need a little more time.”

Jeff sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. “You have until this weekend when we go away with the girls. One week in Maui, and then it’s back home. I’m sorry.”

********

Harry’s stomach turns remembering the conversation, but he decides to push all the nagging thoughts to the back of his mind and focus on the present. 

“You all packed?” he asks, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. 

Alani drapes her leg over his hip and nods. “Been packed since last week.”

She had been ecstatic the day after Mila and Chad’s wedding when Harry invited her to tag along on the couple’s trip with Jeff, Tom, and their significant others. His eagerness to include her in his friend group was not only reassuring, but exciting. It felt like their lives were coming together, even more so after she had introduced him to her parents. They, of course, had adored him and quickly given their seal of approval. While Alani knew that it was ultimately her choice, it still felt good to have support from the most important people in her life, and she hoped to win his friends over just as easily. Harry, on the other hand, had no doubts that she would fit right into his chosen family. Her name had been cautiously dropped during a weekly FaceTime call with his mother and sister, and he was overjoyed when they enthusiastically grilled him for details. 

What Harry was less sure of, however, was how Alani would react upon hearing that his vacation was up and that he would be headed back to L.A. in a week’s time. It was still early in their relationship and an indeterminate break seemed less than ideal. He had tried to convince both Jeff and the label that he could finish the album in Hawaii, but the same couldn’t be said for Jeff Bhasker, Mitch, Tom, and his new bassist, Adam, who all had families waiting for them back on the mainland. It was too risky personally and financially, so Harry reluctantly negotiated one last week to persuade Alani that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be a death sentence. 

“What d’you wanna watch?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard to turn on the T.V. 

Alani sighs and settles deeper into his side. “When Harry Met Sally,”

“But it’s not Christmas or New Year’s,”

“So?”

“So,” Harry explains. “We have to wait ‘til the holidays, wouldn’t be right otherwise,”

Alani scoffs and peers up at him with a judgemental look. “So I guess Serendipity is also out of the question?”

“We’ll have all Christmas to get through that list, darlin’,”

Her stomach flips at his suggestion of their future holiday plans. Privately, she had wondered about such things, as well, including what gifts she might get him or where they would spend the holidays. Though still months away, it suddenly felt within reach. 

“Fine,” Alani softens. “The Notebook,”

“And let you drool over what’s-his-face?” Harry pokes. “No fuckin’ way,”

Alani pinches his side and sits up. “Would you stop being insecure about that? I’ve already told you I was just kidding that time,”

“Yeah well, it still stings,”

“Why don’t you tell me your celebrity crush? You know, so I can be totally fine about it because it doesn’t mean anything,”

Harry shrugs, the corners of his lips turning into a playful smirk. “Don’t have one,”

“Liar,”

“M’serious,”

“Why, because you’ve already dated them?”

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “That was a bit snippy,”

Alani’s muscles tighten. She hadn’t realized that his dating history was a sore spot, but she takes a deep breath and plants a sweet kiss to his jaw as an offering of peace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,”

“S’alright. Truce?”

“Deal,”

“Jennifer Aniston,”

“Huh?”

“My celebrity crush,” Harry explains shyly. “When I was younger,”

Alani giggles lightly. “I see. Good taste, she’s hot,”

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave me for her too,”

“I just might,”

“Can’t say that I blame you,”

“Look I know this is a cute little bit we do,” Alani sits up, her gaze dead-set on Harry’s to communicate the seriousness behind her words. “But I just want you to know that I feel so lucky to be with you. I’m not going anywhere any time soon,”

Harry swallows harshly. It was everything he’d ever wanted to hear and it kills him that he can’t return the sentiment with full honesty. A little less than a week is all he has to prove that even though he physically has to go, his heart will remain wherever Alani is. “Me either,”

Another round of thunder booms outside and the lights fizzle out, leaving the room completely dark save for the intermittent flashes of lightning that gently illuminate the room. 

“So much for watching a movie, huh?” Alani sighs. 

“I think I know some other ways we can keep ourselves entertained.”

********

Harry sets a steaming cup of tea down onto the table in front of Alani and she looks up from her tube of nail polish curiously. Harry flashes a dimpled grin in her direction and whistles a familiar tune, one that she had heard in the studio when he was busy doing his Bob Dylan impression. 

“What’re you singing?”

“Hm?”

“The song,” she clarifies. “You were singing it the other day, what is it?”

Harry serves her plate of hash browns and shrugs. “Dunno, just a little tune ‘ve been workin’ on,”

“It’s nice,”

“Thanks, sweets,” he offers, setting her food down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hey Alani,” Jeff interrupts, stepping into the kitchen with his cellphone pressed to his shoulder.

“Glenne wants to know if you’re okay with her setting up a spa thing for you guys,”

"Yeah, definitely,” Alani perks up. 

“Cool, thanks.”

“Look at you,” Harry teases, taking a bite of his toast coated in strawberry jam. “Minglin’ with the girls,”

“They’re not even here yet,” 

He scans over her appearance and his brows furrow, hit with the sudden realization that she’s dressed in formal attire. 

“What’s with the fancy outfit”

“I have a meeting, remember?”

“With?”

Alani blows on her freshly painted nails and holds up her other hand for Harry to do the same. 

“My senior advisor. We’re going over my research project,”

Harry’s brows raise. “Smarty-pants,”

Alani had scheduled her meeting with Dr. Hudson months ago and had, truthfully, forgotten all about it until she had received a courtesy email the day prior. She had been working on her proposal in the spare minutes she had away from Harry, which were few and far between, but she knew the initial meeting would be much more casual. Alani checks the time on her phone and stands quickly when she realizes that she is supposed to meet Dr. Hudson in  less than thirty-minutes. 

“Gotta go,” she offers, shoveling potatoes into her mouth and grabbing her bag. 

Harry ceases blowing on her nails and kisses the back of her hand before sticking out his lips for a kiss of his own. “Good luck, darlin’. Meet me at the studio after?”

“Sure thing, sunshine. See you later.”

********

“How did the Joni Mitchell piece go? You never told me,” Dr. Hudson questions, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alani offers a shy smile and toys with the hem of her skirt. “A flop,”

“Just one more closer to the winner,”

“Yeah,” Alani sighs, stirring her smoothie. “Maybe it’s time to move on from that,”

The professor shoots her a disapproving look and sets her drink down. “Alani—”

“I just think maybe there’s more realistic—”

“You are not giving up,” Dr. Hudson reassures her. “You’ve come too far and you’re a terrific writer. One of the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. These things take time,”

Alani nods gently, her lips pursed in a tight smile. “Thank you, that really means a lot,”

“What are you working on right now?”

Absolutely nothing, Alani thinks, but then she remembers the half-written article about Harry sitting in her files. 

“A short piece about… a local musician,”

Dr. Hudson’s brows raise, intrigued, and she nods. “That sounds interesting. Definitely more personal,”

You have no idea. “Thanks. I mean, it’s not really anything—”

“I’d love to read it when you’re finished,” the professor continues. “What’s the scope?”

Alani thinks, trying not to give too much incriminating detail about her subject or their relationship. 

“Well,” she starts, hesitant. “He’s writing new music and working on his first album. I guess I kind of want to follow his journey and redefinition of success in the music industry,”

Dr. Hudson hums. “I love it. Send me a draft.”

Alani swallows and takes a minute to consider the offer. Surely there couldn’t be anything wrong about sharing her work privately with her advisor. She had been so excited about the potential of the article when it was first started, but it had since been neglected like so many of her other rejected pieces. Starting again seemed exciting, and she knew that Harry would be pleased to play such an important role in making her dreams come true. That had, after all, been the initial terms of their agreement. 

“Okay,” Alani accepts. “I will.”

********

Harry draws out the last note and Mitch lets the chord ring between them for a moment. 

“I think that’s the one,”

“Yeah, I liked that progression better,”

“Hope you got that, Bhasker,” Mitch calls to Jeff in the sound booth, who gives a thumbs up in response. 

Harry continues humming, his head still bobbing to the tune, when he hears the studio door creak unpleasantly. His eyes shoot up to find Alani wincing and timidly stepping into the room. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,”

He softens and beckons her over. “Never an interruption, sweets,”

Alani slots herself between his legs and wraps her arms around his neck, giving a gentle peck to the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together.

“How’s the weather?”

“Just got a lot sunnier,”

“Meeting go well?”

She nods and twists a lock of his chestnut hair between her fingers. “Yeah, actually,”

“Then we should celebrate!” Harry perks up, peppering a kiss to her cheek. “Dinner, wine, movie, the whole shebang,”

Alani frowns, thinking back to the article she promised Dr. Hudson. “Hmmm, raincheck?”

Her boyfriend deflates. “You’re ditching me?”

“Just for one night,” she explains, pulling him closer. “I wanna finish up some school stuff before our trip. Otherwise I won’t be able to give you my full attention,”

Harry pouts, but he nods understandingly. “‘Kay,”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. I’ll miss you tons,”

“Ditto, sweets,”

Alani presses her forehead against his and her fingertips wander through the growing curls at the nape of his neck. “Please don’t be upset,”

Harry smiles warmly and smoothes his hands up and down her back. “Never, m’love. Could never be upset with you,”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he nods, planting a sweet kiss to her lips. “Hey, I wanna play you somethin’,” 

Alani grins and pulls back a bit to read his expression. “Let’s hear it,”

Harry grabs the guitar next to him and slings it over his shoulder before adjusting the capo. The song starts sweet and gentle, his voice light to match the tune. 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home 

Alani watches in awe as he pours so much emotion behind every word, his vocals effortlessly powerful and rich. She claps when the song finishes and leans in for a kiss. 

“I love it,”

“S’not finished yet,” Harry shrugs, still fiddling with the strings. “Just the chorus right now,”

“Will you teach it to me?”

His brows raise in surprise. “You play?”

“No,” Alani admits. “But I have a feeling you’re a good teacher,”

“Well, let’s see what you got,”

Alani turns and Harry props the guitar in her lap, his arms wrapping around her as he guides her into the right position. His left hand demonstrates the beginning chord and she replaces his fingers on the fretboard to try for herself. She strums and the beginning note resonates in near-perfect pitch. 

“Hey,” Harry beams. “You’re a regular Hendrix,”

He continues positioning her fingers over the right spaces and letting her strum, humming the lyrics softly into the shell of her ear. 

“We don’t argue that much,” Alani defends playfully. 

Harry chuckles and kisses her temple. “Maybe not, but we’re really good at makin’ up.”

“Easy, Styles.”

********

Harry: Hungry?

Alani peels her eyes away from the computer screen and reads the message lighting up her phone. 

Alani: Not really

Harry: …

Harry: oh 

She laughs and pads over to the window. Sure enough, Harry holds up two bags and flashes a cheesy grin down below. 

“Need a study break?”

“I’ll meet you at the door.”

Harry makes himself comfortable in the middle of her bed and unpacks the bags. 

“I’ve got a California and a spicy tuna for my favorite girl,” he announces. “With a side of eel sauce,”

“And the world's best boyfriend goes to Mr. Harry Styles,” Alani grins, taking a seat next to him. 

He smirks and pulls out his own order of miso soup and sushi. “How’s the homework comin’ along?”

“Not too shabby,”

“Glad to hear it,”

“Hey, what time do I meet you at the airport tomorrow?” she asks, dipping her roll in the sauce. 

Harry freezes and turns to her with confusion written all over his face. “I’m sorry, did my girlfriend just insinuate that we’re not leaving for the airport together?”

“I really need to finish this,” Alani explains. “It’s almost there,” 

“Two nights?” he complains. 

Alani nudges him with her shoulder and shakes her head. “We’re gonna be spending an entire week together, non-stop. You’re gonna get sick of me,”

“Never,” Harry rebuts. “Not possible,”

“Just one more night,” Alani bargains. “Then I’m all yours, no interruptions.”

He nods and takes a sip of his soup. “Alright, deal.”

You have to tell her, Jeff’s voice rings in his mind. 

********

The airline stewardess ushers Harry and Alani to their seats while Scott and Miles settle down a few rows behind. She didn’t know exactly what to expect from first-class, but suddenly the perks of having a famous boyfriend increased tenfold by the sight of their luxurious accommodations.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Alani asks while Harry hovers over his chair. 

“Sitting, or I was about to,”

“And you’re not even gonna offer rock-paper-scissors for the window seat?”

Harry shakes his head with an amused chuckle. “No because I already know that you’re gonna get up to pee every five minutes,”

“Not true,”

“It is too true and it’s exactly why we can’t cuddle while we fall asleep,”

“Or maybe the reason is because I’m claustrophobic and I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings,”

Harry frowns. “Really?”

“No,” Alani admits, taking the aisle seat. “I just said that so you’d give me the window,”

“Get up, we’re switching,”

“Thank you, sunshine! You’re the best,”

Harry slumps into his new chair and crosses his arms. “Forty-five minutes and we’re already fighting like an old married couple,”

“Oh really?” Alani smirks. “Is that what old married couples argue about? Who gets the window seat?”

“And leaving the toilet seat up, going antique shopping—” 

“—What old married couples have you been hanging out with—?”

“—Picking up the kids from school,”

Alani presses a kiss to his shoulder and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyelids are still heavy from staying up the night before, but her article was completely finished and sent off to Dr. Hudson just like she’d promised. Now, she could enjoy her vacation free of any worry or obligation, completely focused on the perfect boy still rambling next to her. 

“But, obviously I mean that doesn’t count, right?” Harry asks, craning his neck and smiling softly when he sees that his girlfriend has already dozed off. He kisses the top of her head gently and lets his own eyes flutter close with a deep, contented breath. 

********

“And then I’ll have to repaint it, but I haven’t decided on a color yet,” Glenne explains to Alani as they stroll through the airport. 

Alani hums. “It was your grandmother’s?” 

“Well, it was somebody’s grandmother’s. We picked it up at this little antique shop in Santa Monica.”

Jeff escorts Glenne into the shuttle car while Harry and Alani share a knowing look and stifle their laughter. They shuffle into the back seats as Tom and his wife, Jenny, claim the middle row. 

“So you’re a journalist?” Jenny asks, turning in her seat eagerly to face Alani. 

“Not quite,” she explains with a polite smile. “Still a student, but hopefully someday,”

Jenny nods and twirls the ring around her finger. “Sounds exciting. Maybe you can hitch a ride on tour with this one and do some writing there.”

“Yeah,” Alani smiles, settling further into Harry’s side. “Maybe.”

The idea of traveling the world with Harry and being a part of the excitement of touring the album was something she had considered briefly, but hadn’t allowed herself to fully indulge until this moment. It was already thrilling to see him polish the songs he had begun during his trip, but she could only imagine how much more special it would be to see him perform them for the rest of the world. A twinge of jealousy sparks at the thought of having to share any part of him with the public, but Alani knows that his gifts are much too special to keep all for herself. Harry was golden and he deserved to shine in all of his radiant glory. That was exactly what she had penned in her article, and she said it not because he was her boyfriend and there were clear personal investments, but because she knew it was true even before he had shown any romantic interest in her. 

“What’s tour like?” Alani pipes up as Harry watches the landscape out his window. 

He considers it for a moment and clears his throat. “Fun, mostly. Can be tiring,”

“Lots of partying and adoring fans?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “Not so much the partying. Enthusiastic fans, sure,”

Alani narrows her eyes. “No partying?”

“Nope,” Harry reiterates. “Don’t really like to do all that stuff when I’m working. Also just didn’t wanna…”

He trails off and Alani waits a beat to see if he’ll continue. “Didn’t wanna?”

“Fuck it up,” he finishes. “You know, like, be the one who ruined a good thing for a little bit of fun.”

She lets his words settle in, rubbing a reassuring circle on the back of his hand. “Makes sense. Sounds really responsible of you to do that.”

Harry presses a soft kiss to her temple and resumes his study of the scenery. They chat amongst their friends for the remainder of the drive and Alani immediately presses Glenne and Jenny for information about her boyfriend in his younger years. They indulge her inquiries and ask their own questions, deciding privately after a few minutes that her and Harry are a good fit. 

When the group arrives at the resort, Glenne takes charge and instructs them all to meet at the lobby for lunch in twenty minutes. They collect their keys and head up to their respective rooms, which are all located on the very top floor. 

“What a view,” Alani muses as she takes in the sight from their private balcony. 

Harry admires the wonder on her face and nods, his eyes not leaving her side profile. “You’re tellin’ me,”

“Let’s never go home,” she poses, arms snaking around his torso. “Let’s stay here forever, just me and you,”

His throat tightens as he thinks back to the inevitable conversation waiting for them. Harry didn’t know why it was so hard to think about leaving because he had every intention of keeping touch and making their relationship work at all costs. But there was a part of him, a very tiny recess in the back of his mind, that feared the possibility of Alani not feeling the same. 

“Yeah,” he agrees with a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want, sweets,”

Alani senses a shift in his demeanor, but she can’t read it. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Harry swallows, mustering up a small smile. “But I am hungry,”

She isn’t entirely convinced that there isn’t something bothering him, but she decides not to push it and tightens her grip around his waist, instead. 

“Race you to the lobby.”

“You’re on.”

********

“You’ve never seen Finding Nemo?”

“Was I s’posed to?”

“My god,” Alani marvels. “You know, I’m starting to believe those rumors that you were grown in a lab,”

Harry’s brow raises and he blinks. “That I was what?”

The restaurant that Glenne and Jeff chose features an aquarium tunnel at the entrance, much to both Harry and Alani’s excitement. Fish, large and small, swim around them and the pair take turns pointing out their favorite colorful species. The Hull’s snap photos for their four year-old daughter, but Jenny also secretly captures one of Harry and Alani with their hands clasped under the mesmerizing blue lighting as a keepsake for her friend. 

“Add Finding Nemo to our movie list,” Alani says, admiring a clownfish that swims close to the glass. 

“S’it  gonna make me cry?”

“Probably,”

“Goddamnit,” 

Alani giggles softly and turns her head away from the glass to silently observe Harry under the lighting of the rippling water. The combination of his serene features and the sound of Billie Holiday’s I’ll Be Seeing You over the sound system creates a perfect image in her mind, one that makes her afraid to blink, lest it be gone forever. Harry glances over at her through the corner of his eye and his lips curl. 

“Checkin’ me out?”

“Always,”

“Like whatcha see?”

“Love it.”

His heart nearly stops at her words, but before he has a chance to process their implication, the hostess calls on their group. 

“And I’ll have the piña colada,” Harry orders once they're seated. 

“Oh my god, H,” Glenne laughs from across the table. “That reminds me, remember your birthday last year when James got trashed and hoarded the karaoke machine for, like, two hours?”

“Ruined that song forever,” Jeff quips, reliving the memory of the Late-Late host drunkenly serenading the entire party with the same song on repeat. 

Harry cringes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I try not to,”

Alani watches as they reminisce on the event, adding their own details and pieces to the puzzle. It’s amusing to watch, but a small part of her also has to fight the pang of exclusion settling into the pit of her stomach. She feels guilty for being affected by it knowing, logically, that it isn’t intentional or malicious in any way. Still, Alani is painfully reminded of the vast differences between their worlds. Harry had gotten to know practically every part of her life, including her family, but there was still so much that she didn’t know about his. It was something she worked hard not to dwell on, given the novelty of their relationship, but she also worried that fear and insecurity would prevent her from investing what little of her heart Harry hadn’t claimed yet. 

“Who was it that started dancing on a table and almost broke a chandelier?” Tom asks, wracking his brain. 

“I think it was Ken—” Jeff hesitates, clearing his throat. “Actually, I don’t remember,”

Harry shifts in his seat beside Alani and reads over the menu, quickly changing the subject. “What’re you gonna get?”

“I don’t know,” Alani admits. “Everything looks so good,”

“Oh look,” Jenny pipes up across from Harry. “They’ve got your fav, the mango sorbet. I wonder if it’s as good as the one in Italy,”

Harry beams and reads over the item. “Oh yeah, that was amazin’,” 

Alani files the detail to the back of her mind. She hadn’t known mango was his favorite flavor of anything, and while it was a trivial detail, she realized that there were so still many little details about him that she wanted to know. Harry had made such an effort to remember everything about her, like her go-to sushi order and the fact that she always saved the kiwis for last in her fruit salad, so it made her feel a touch guilty that she hadn’t made the same effort. 

“Wanna share the coconut shrimp?” Alani asks with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. 

“Oh, uh—”

“He’s allergic,” Glenne says offhandedly, not cold or condescending, but more in the same way that an older sister would. 

“Oh my god,” Alani’s eyes widen. “I’m so sorry,”

Harry laughs lightly and shrugs. “S’okay, I’d let you poison me,”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Glenne apologizes, reaching her hand out to Alani. “I thought you knew.”

Alani accepts the hand and waves away her concern. “No, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know, actually.”

“We can stop talking about my defects now,” Harry teases. “‘M not dyin’,”

He leans in closer to Alani and presses a kiss to her temple. “But if I was, it’d be an honor to have my last meal with you.”

She responds with a soft smile before returning her attention back to the menu. His sentiments, however sweet, unfortunately did very little to soothe the embarrassment of her mini faux pas. It was irrational, Alani knew this, but it made her wonder what else she didn’t know and what bigger secrets he was potentially keeping. Whose name had Jeff meant to say earlier to identify the mystery dancer at Harry’s party, and why had it created an awkward shift in the air? She decides not to let the spiraling questions spoil her fun and takes a generous sip of her cocktail to avoid them for the time being. 

********

Harry sets the room key on the nightstand next to their king sized bed and lets himself sink down into the soft mattress. The group had spent the entire day sightseeing, from botanical gardens to scenic beaches, but he was really itching for some quality time alone with Alani. Lately, their time together had been cut frustratingly short by work, school, and life in general. Even when they were seated right next to each other with arms linked or fingers interlocked, she felt far away and he didn’t know why. He hoped that this trip would allow them time to reconnect and solidify their relationship before he had to return to California. 

“Mini bar,” Alani comments, kicking her shoes off and wandering over to the small refrigerator in their suite. “Who’s paying again?”

“The label,”

“Thank you Columbia Records,”

She swipes a few bottles of tequila before climbing into the bed next to Harry. 

“Wanna play a game?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and nods. “What kinda game?”

“Never have I ever,” Alani explains. “But instead of putting your finger down, you take a shot,”

“Sounds dangerous,”

“It’ll be fun. You can go first if you want,”

He hums and nods in agreement before sitting up to face her. “‘Kay. Never have I ever...named my car after a musician,”

“Cheap shot,” Alani narrows her eyes, taking a sip from the bottle of Jose Cuervo. 

“Your turn,”

She fiddles with the bottle cap, a question already in mind, though she isn’t sure if she should ask it. 

“Never have I ever… dated a model,”

Harry’s brow furrows, but he opens his own bottle slowly and takes a sip. “So it’s that kind of never have I ever,”

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” Alani shrugs innocently. 

“Right. Never have I ever slept with a guy named David,”

Her eyes widen, but she laughs half-heartedly and takes a sip. “Jeez, okay. Never have I ever—”

“Wait, so you two actually…” Harry interrupts, trailing off at the end. 

“I mean,” Alani starts, her eyes wandering to the ceiling. “Yeah, a long time ago,”

“How long ago?”

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake—”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ll play nice,”

“Alright,” Alani accepts. She knows that she should probably steer the game back onto safer territory, but the wound has been re-opened and she can’t resist the urge to keep picking at it. “Never have I ever slept with a fan,”

Harry takes a slow sip. “Never have I ever cheated on my partner,”

The bottle stays put in Alani’s hand. “Never had I ever gone on a vacation with my partner before this trip,”

The tequila washes over his tongue bitterly like the faint memories that it symbolizes. “Never have I ever dated someone just for the publicity,”

The bottle in Alani’s hand doesn’t move, much to Harry’s relief, but her mind is not as tranquil. 

“Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t,” she says slowly.  

Harry takes another shot and it burns all the way down. “Why are we doin’ this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t wanna play anymore,”

“Alani,” he starts, springing to his feet when she leaves the bed. “Hey, look at me, please,”

She blinks back the tears that threaten to spill over her lower lashes before turning to him. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid game,”

“S’just all out of context,” Harry offers, reaching for her hands. “Wasn’t the right way to have all of those conversations,”

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”

“What’s really botherin’ you, hm sweets?” He coos, bringing her cold knuckles to his warm lips. “Tell me, please?”

She releases a shaky breath and tries to sift through the fog in her brain for the right answer.

 “I don’t know, really, I just,” Alani hesitates. “Am I a bad girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry says quickly, his hands lifting to cup her face. “God no, you’re the best,”

“Then why didn’t I know that your favorite ice cream flavor was mango? And why didn’t I know that you were allergic to coconut, and why—”

“Hang on, is that what this is all about?” he questions. “Cause I’ll go eat an entire coconut right now,”

Alani laughs lightly and pinches her eyes shut. “No, it’s not about that. I just feel like you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you make me feel so fucking special and, God, I just wanna be good enough for you because—”

Harry holds his breath and watches as her eyes gloss over. 

“Because I love you,” she finishes, voice small. “More than I ever thought possible,”

His own eyes sting, but he doesn’t fight the tears that fall as he presses his lips to hers firmly. 

“I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “I love you so fuckin’ much it drives me crazy,”

Alani chuckles softly. “Ditto,”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for ages, can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“Guess you’re not the only one full of surprises.”

********

The early morning sunlight creeps gently into Harry and Alani’s room, casting a soft, golden glow onto the bare skin that peeks through the white duvet. Harry stirs first, a strand of Alani’s hair tickling his nose and making him smile. He prys his heavy eyelids open and winces at the dull aching of his head aggravated by the light. Alani hears his muffled groan and sighs, willing the sun to go back down and let her sleep a few more hours. 

“Mornin’ sweets,” he rasps with a warm kiss to her bare shoulder. 

She peels her own tired eyes open and flashes a sleepy grin. “Good morning, sunshine,”

“How’d you sleep?”

“Super. You?”

Harry props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his palm as he admires the traces of sleep still on her face.

“Just swell.”

Alani chuckles lightly and reaches a hand up to comb through his unruly bedhead. His skin is warm to the touch, and the light from the window casts a heavenly glow around his visage. She pokes her finger into his dimple, which elicits a soft laugh and makes his smile grow wider. They stay intertwined under the sheets as the sun fully rises and soak up their own details to keep as souvenirs from this moment. Alani takes in the scent of vanilla and the juxtaposition of Harry’s inked bicep against the plain, white sheets. He stores away the image of her sleepy, mocha eyes and the pink, manicured fingernails that trail up and down his arm. Neither of them are sure exactly how long they remain in this moment, for all they know it could be hours or days. But whatever the duration, it doesn’t seem to be enough. I need more time, Harry had told Jeff, but there was no more left to give. He had to tell her, and it was now or never. 

“Hey,” he begins carefully. “I need to tell you something,”

Alani sits up to be eye level with him and nods. “Anything,”

Harry waits a beat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her bare shoulder before letting the confession spill out. 

“I have to go back to L.A.,”

 “I kinda figured,”

He draws in a deep sigh of relief. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Alani shrugs. “Hilo isn’t exactly Hollywood,”

“I asked for more time, but the label—”

“No, I get it. So… when? Next month?”

“Friday,”

Alani’s brows furrow. “This Friday?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits with a gulp. 

“The last day of our trip?”

“Yes,”

Her heart drops into her stomach and she feels sick. It all made sense now why Harry’s mood had shifted when she jokingly asked him not to leave, and why he had been so insistent on spending as much time together as possible this week. Their game of never have I ever turned instantly defensive when asked about his dating history. Never had I ever gone on vacation with my partner before this trip. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. He had whisked her away on a farewell trip and God knows who else had been in her place before, or worse, who would be in it next. Harry was saying good-bye. 

“Wait,” Alani says finally, mind still racing too fast to process. “How long have you known?”

“Alani—”

“How long?”

Harry swallows. “Couple of weeks,”

“You knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me?” she questions incredulously.

“I tried—”

“You know that I hate surprises, you know how I feel about plans—”

“I’m sorry,” Harry insists, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never felt right,”

Alani rolls her eyes. “So what, you were just gonna leave a fucking sticky note on my pillow and hope for the best?”

“Don’t say that—”

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “Is that why you gave me this necklace? A souvenir of our little summer fling so you could leave with a clear conscience?”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “How could you even think that?”

“Because maybe it’s true. Why else would you wait until the very last minute to tell me about this?”

“Maybe we should take a minute,” he suggests, the whites of his eyes now bloodshot. “Before we say something we’ll regret,”

“I think I already did.” Alani admits. Never have I ever told someone I loved them when I didn’t. 

Harry’s head pounds and he feels like he’s drowning, treading water in every direction only to be dragged further into the current. He quickly pulls on his clothes from the night before and tries to steady his breathing. 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall,” he offers. “Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

Alani doesn’t respond or even meet his pleading eyes. She simply tightens the duvet around her body and turns her head to the window, letting a single, bitter tear roll down her cheek. The door closes softly and she is immediately filled with regret and guilt. Had she truly meant all of the things she said? Or was it fear and the instinct to flee taking over her mouth? Alani wanted to believe that she was wrong and that Harry hadn’t intentionally kept her in the dark, but from where she stood, the sun had long disappeared behind the clouds and all that was left was the storm. 

Harry trudges down the hallway and the walls spin, closing in on him slowly. If he had just told Alani sooner, everything would be different. He had avoided doing so for this exact reason and out of fear that their relationship wouldn’t be worth the risk in her mind. It was selfish—he was selfish—to try to make the decision for her, and now the woman he loved was getting ready to walk away because he had broken her trust. What else was there to do? His back meets the wall and he sinks to the floor. 

“Hey H,” Jeff clears his throat from above. “We should talk,”

“She knows. Didn’t go well,”

“So she did approve the article?” 

Harry lifts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

There’s a harsh knock at the door and Alani jumps. In Harry’s absence, she had managed to cool off and sift through her frantic thoughts. She had been wrong to think that he used her, all it took was a quick stroll down memory lane to prove otherwise. He had never given her any true reason not to trust him, so there had to be some other reason why he hadn’t told her about his plans to leave so soon. Alani pads over to the door and unlocks it gently. 

“Harry, I’m sor—”

“Wanna talk about surprises?” he seethes. “What the fuck is this?”

She squints at the phone screen that he holds up to her face and the title of her unpublished article stares back at her. 

“I don’t know—”

“Well it has your goddamn name on it,” Harry shoots back. 

Alani steps aside and lets him into the room before she closes the door behind her. “I can explain—”

“Did you write it or not?”

“Yes, but—”

He shuts the phone off and slams it face down onto the night stand. “How fucking dare you call me a liar and then pull this shit behind my back,”

“I didn’t lie,” Alani defends, voice weak. “I had no idea it was going to be published, please just listen—”

“A class project,” he interrupts with his back still turned. “That’s what you said,”

“It was never meant to be released,”

“How do I know that? How do I know you’re not just trying to cover your ass?”

“Please,” Alani begs as her vision begins to blur. “I was wrong, I shouldn’t have said all those things,”

Harry runs a hand through his hair and casts his eyes to the ceiling in an attempt to quell the emotion that pools behind his eyes. 

“So why did you?”

“I was scared,”

“Of?”

Alani takes a deep breath. “Of losing you for good. Of falling in l—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Don’t finish that sentence,”

“I don’t know how,” she tries again. “And I don’t know who released it, but I swear—”

“You really expect me to trust a word you say after you accused me of lying about this whole thing, about us?”

Harry’s  gaze lowers back to hers and the bright, green eyes that she has come to love are replaced with a blood-shot, stormy sea that makes her stomach drop. The words get caught in her throat. 

“I fucked up,” he continues. “I know that I should’ve told you. But I’m having a hard time believing that this wasn’t planned, that this random website would just accidentally publish your work without your consent,”

Alani can’t explain it either, she truly had no idea how her writing had ended up in the wrong hands. There was only one other person she had entrusted it with, but surely Dr. Hudson hadn’t betrayed her, had she? Alani didn’t know who to believe anymore. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she tries. “I didn’t mean what I said, and I know I can’t take it back, but you have to at least believe that I never wanted to hurt you,”

Harry is silent for a moment, and Alani decides that it’s her turn to tell the truth. There was nothing left to lose. 

“At first, I did want to publish it,” she explains. “But I changed my mind and I scrapped the whole thing. In the end, the only person I intended to show it to was you,”

“So how did it get onto the internet for the whole fucking world to see?” he presses. 

Alani sighs. “My advisor wanted to know what I was working on, so I sent it to her, but she never had my permission to publish it. Now I realize how stupid it sounds, but it’s the truth,”

���If you had come to me, I would have given you permission,”

“I’m so sorry,”

Harry’s shoulders tense. Every fiber of his being  wants to believe her, but how could he? She had told him herself that things would be messy and warned him that he didn’t know what he was asking by pursuing a relationship with her. Maybe it really was all his fault for not seeing the signs, but that still didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t trust her anymore. And based on her reaction to the news of his departure, it seemed as though Alani didn’t trust him either. 

“Even if you’re telling the truth,” Harry begins, slow and deliberate. “You still thought, after everything, that I would abandon you. And if that’s the kind of person you think I am, if that’s the person you wrote about—”

“Harry—”

“Then I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

“Please, don’t go.” Alani cries but it’s too late. The door slams and her heart falls. 

After a beat, she races to the door and into the hallway but there’s no sign of Harry. As quickly as he had appeared into her life, he had vanished. Gone without a trace.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Your cool literary takes on James Bond made me want to ask you this. I have to wear a tuxedo for a special occasion, can you give me some advice? I would welcome some style pointers from you as I respect your refined taste. What are your thoughts on men wearing the tuxedo? I think it’s a dying tradition because here in the US, where the tux was invented, it has all but disappeared as the choice of evening wear for any social events. Great blog posts but I only wish you would post more.

Thank you for your kind words about my most recent posts on Ian Fleming’s James Bond and also generally liking what I post. I too wish I could post more but unfortunately my time is taken up with the reality of work and other things even during these tough times of the Covid pandemic. But when I get a moment to myself I do enjoy posting as a way to detox from the pressures of work. I appreciate your continued support.

I got this question before Christmas so the thought had occurred to me that you were asking because you had a decision to make over the festive period. If so, I am sorry for tardy lateness of my response. But I trust what little advice I can give will help you in the future. 

I always remember the maxim by the fashion designer, Tom Ford, who said, “Dressing well is a form of good manners.”

To me, for a man to wear black tie (or tuxedo) is the height of good manners. It used to be the case that every gentleman had one and it was perhaps the first suit to pack into a suitcase. Perhaps one of the few times I was ever envious of my older brothers as men was accompanying them with my father the first time they went to get fitted for a bespoke black tie at Henry Poole & Co - the Savile Row tailors that had been the regular choice of my grandfather and father for their clothing attire. Although both siblings later gravitated to other Savile Row bespoke tailors as they got older, that first Henry Poole black tie lasted them for a long time. The whole ritual around taking measurements took on a hushed sacred tone of a liturgy. Looking back it felt like a rite of passage for them as they passed from boyhood to adulthood.

The choice of wearing a tuxedo epitomises the desire - among people of means and social standing - to be fresh, clean and as attractive as possible when meeting on evening social events and attending high spirits affairs. This tradition was maintained also with the beginning of the use of the automobile, when there was no practical justification.

Before the Second World War, tuxedos and tails were still considered the only appropriate clothing for all the elegant social evenings. However, after the war, the traditional suit, or the work suit, began to be accepted more on informal evening and daytime occasions, and so the use of the tuxedo was limited to just formal evening gatherings only.

The tuxedo was completely remade in disco's image by the 1970s. A young, revolutionary generation looked at the conservative styling of the tuxedo and threw out nearly everything, keeping only the vague silhouette. Huge, floppy bow ties, colourful patterned jackets, shirts with ruffles and lace, and trousers that looked more like bell-bottoms became much more prevalent. The typical tuxedo in the '70s usually had at least two of these elements, if not all of them.

By the 1980s, a return to classic styling had thankfully re-emerged and tuxedos started looking more conservative.

By the late 2000s, as dress codes became diluted and misunderstood, formal-wear took another hit. Business-casual was the predominate dress code of the workplace and shiny black suits with matching ties had nearly supplanted traditional black-tie. Coloured dress shirts also began to trend in this era.  Those who continued to wear traditional black-tie made it as simple as possible to match the casual aesthetic that a new generation preferred.

These days I think more and more young men are adopting the black-tie styles of the '30s and '40s. Midnight blue tuxedos have even made a comeback. I think high quality period dramas like "Mad Men" are at least part of the reason for the shift, with men growing nostalgic for a bygone era of neater, more crisp look.  

People forget, as often as they do, that the original purpose of this elegant clothing was to replace the suit worn all day, allowing men to leave behind the dirt and smell of a day spent on horseback, not to bring it around the dining table.

These days the emphasis on informality has made it easier to make excuses for men (and women) to dress down to a street level of casual indifference (laziness) that I find aesthetically displeasing.

Moreover I find it a tad disrespectful to the sense of occasion and also an unkind ingratitude to the efforts made by the host or hostess in organising such an event. For those who think wearing black tie is a sign of social superiority, then respectfully they have not understood its true purpose. In following the dress code, it is in effect a sign of respect towards your fellow guests, as it has been put in place to ensure attendees are on the same level.

The origin of the tuxedo is a controversial subject of conversation in some circles. I know in the US it’s common to assume the tux was invented there but many have pointed out it was in England that its origins lie. Some fashion historians trace it back to the 17th Century as a tailless ‘smoking jacket’. In England during the 17th century, after dinner the gentlemen might put on a smoking jacket and retreat to a den or smoking room. Indeed in the beginning it was believed that the purpose of the ’smoking jacket’ ensured that their evening coat would not be burned by ashes nor absorb the smell of tobacco which the women found distasteful.

However these days there remain two theories about the first ever proper tuxedo that we would recognise today. In the first theory the tuxedo was invented by Pierre Lorillard IV of New York City according to one school of thought. Pierre Lorillard's family were wealthy tobacco magnates who owned country property in Tuxedo Park, just outside of New York City. At a formal ball, held at the Tuxedo Club in October 1886, the young Lorillard wore a new style of formal wear for men that he designed himself. He named his tailless black jacket the tuxedo after Tuxedo Park. The tuxedo caught on and became fashionable as formal wear for men.

The second theory, according to English clothing historian James Laver, has it that the idea of wearing black for evening wear was first introduced by the 19th Century British writer, Edward Bulwer-Lyttonn who wrote in 1828 that "people must be very distinguished to look well in black." It was only until later in the century that a village resident of Tuxedo Park, New York, James Brown Potter vacationed in England in the summer of 1886. Potter and his wife, Cora were introduced to the Prince of Wales {who later became King Edward VII} at a court ball in London. Potter asked the Prince for advice on formal dress. The Prince sent Potter to his own Saville Row tailor, Henry Poole & Co. Potter was fitted with a short black jacket and black tie that was unlike the formal tails with white tie that was worn in the United States for formal occasions.

The new tailless formal wear was said to have been designed by the Prince of Wales. It was Edward VII who in 1865 commissioned to his tailor Henry Poole to create a short blue evening jacket (midnight blue), to be used for informal evenings in his country estate of Sandringham. The Prince and his tailor drew inspiration from the British military uniforms of the time, which used short jackets with black ties.

This is where the two origins meet. James Brown Potter took the design back to the Tuxedo Club, where Pierre Lorillard modified it, named it, and made it popular during the Autumn ball. And so from that blessed bespoke collaboration between the Prince and Henry Poole & Co was born the ancestor of what everyone call today as tuxedos, the English ‘dinner jacket’ and the Americans ‘tuxedo’ - because of its original word spread starting from the homonymous village of Tuxedo Park.

Whatever the exact truth of its origin, black tie remains the evening attire par excellence. I’m flattered that anyone should ask me for style tips, especially regarding grooming and clothing for men.

I like to think that the true purpose of a man wearing black tie was to help the man show the humility to be an unassuming gentleman in effortlessly blending into the background so that his female companion could shine more by his side. A man in black tie was a gentleman who stood steadfastly there with an outstretched arm to make women feel more beautiful, but also to reassure them that all is right in the world.

If you get the opportunity to wear black tie then do please take it. The fact that you desire to wear one is already a great choice that makes you stand out from the loud bling-bling hoi polloi. But please don’t confuse wearing a black tie with snobbery. It isn’t, it’s just good manners. Manners maketh man as they say and so it’s not something one is born with but can only be learned. And don’t confuse fashion for style. The two are very different. Fashion is what you copy from others and style is what you express about yourself. Don’t conform to the passing fancies of the day (the loud, the garish, the attention seeking), or as Coco Chanel put it, ‘elegance is refusal’.

Always remember that style is a way to say who you are without having to speak.  

In theory, the elegance of the tuxedo stems from its simplicity - it’s an ultimate classic, the one outfit one doesn’t mess around with. In practice, many men find the rules governing this suit and its accoutrements to be annoyingly complex and complexly annoying.

My basic rule for men is ‘kiss’ - Keep It Simple, Stupid. 

Rule 1: Buy, don’t rent

It’s better if the black tie that you have is yours, and not rented. For one thing it’s a question of comfortability. You’ll be comfortable in your skin if you’re more comfortable in a suit that actually fits. Secondly, a rental doesn’t mean it’s good quality. The fabric is an important consideration.

In an ideal world you should get a bespoke tailored black tie made - ideally from any of the excellent tailors on Savile Row. But not all tailors are equal. Henry Poole & Co would be the traditional choice. I know for my older brothers they prefer Gieves & Hawkes and Huntsman because they have a more military draped cut, traditional but not stuffy.

In the long run it’s a once in a lifetime worthy investment if you take in consideration the cost of each potential rental along with how many times you would be wearing one throughout the coming years.

But I understand for many that may be an impossible proposition. The next best thing is to get a less expensive ‘made-to-measure’ black tie which is an increasing and welcome avenue for men to still have a suit or black tie made to fit them.

I would hesitate recommending buying off the peg because many high street brands have a rather relaxed attitude to tailoring and quality. If you must buy off the peg or rent then make sure the fabric is wool.

Rule 2: Black or Midnight blue and no other colour

Your black tie should be, to state the obvious, black. Not only is it the correct choice, it is the stylish choice. You can never go wrong with black. But if you’re feeling a tad adventurous go with Midnight blue. Midnight blue, being blacker than black, is not merely an exception to the rule but an exceptional choice for shimmering with distinction under the moonlight.

But what about white dinner jacket so beloved of James Bond or Indiana Jones? Yes, quite.

Traditionally, white was worn in place of a traditional black suit to deflect heat. This made it the perfect alternative for black-tie events that were held in the afternoon, during the Summer or at sea. The white jacket variation of black tie began was adopted in the early 1930s as a way for well-heeled vacationers to dress formally in the tropical heat without having to endure the heavy and dark-coloured fabrics that were standard for evening wear at the time. 

While dinner suits have become much more lightweight since then, the light-coloured jacket has remained a popular warm-weather alternative to its ebony progenitor. However, without a proper understanding of its form and function, the white dinner jacket easily becomes a flashy gimmick.  Subtlety and restraint are the keys to the successful execution of this classic variation.

Avoid other colours like the plague. I do notice from time to time in the shop windows here in Paris (as well as London and elsewhere) that some menswear boutiques display bright coloured dinner jackets.

Usually it’s the Italians (like Canali and Brunello Cucinelli who give in to their worst Italian impulses to show off their peacock flair) and others who really should know better (yes, the wine red velvet dinner jacket is very fetching but it belongs by log side fire, a cigar, and a cognac, so thank you Tom Ford). I even think some of them look nice and charming but it’s not black tie.

Besides a non-traditional black tie will be much more vulnerable to the whims of passing fashion where as traditional unfussy black tie can give peace of mind that it will never go out of style and thus will last longer.

Rule 3: Put yourself in a straight jacket

The first thing to decide is single or double-breasted and number of buttons. A safe and elegant option is one-button single breast which is both timeless and classical. Two buttons are fine, worn with the lower button undone. Double-breasted styles of any button configuration are also appropriate, but keep in mind that double-breasted jackets add some ‘bulk’ to the body. So take a hard look at your body type before you decide which one best flows off your shoulders. The buttons should be fabric-covered.

Hand in hand with the button style goes the lapel. The classic, formal option is peak lapel. Shawl lapel is somewhat less formal, but perfectly suitable. Shawl has become very popular, especially in slim versions. Notch lapels are frequently seen on off-the-rack tuxedos, but this is a more casual style, which should be reserved for suits. My preference would be to go for the peak lapel but make them sufficiently wide and not too slim.

The jacket was traditionally without vents, to keep seams (i.e. details) to a minimum, but double vents are also acceptable, providing comfort and movement. The pockets should be straight piped (slit without flap) and there should be a breast pocket.

Rule 4: Trousers, brace yourself

The trousers are ideally made without pleats or cuffs, with straight pockets following the side seam, in order to make them less visible. Black tie attire should never be worn with belts, so skip the belt loops. Traditionally one would use suspenders (braces) as it straightens the body shape as well as holds up the trousers. Choose black or white braces in fabric, rather than in leather, or in any case they should be matching the colour of the tuxedo. But I should note that side-fasteners are also a convenient option for some flexibility in the waist. The front closure should be clip-only, avoiding the button. Classically, the trousers will have a satin silk stripe covering the outer side seam on each leg, matching the lapel facing. This is a lovely detail, but nowadays sometimes considered old-fashioned. For this reason alone I would insist on it.

Rule 5: Don’t get shirty

The shirt should be plain white cotton, with a few distinct features. It should always have a ‘bib’ running down to front, which provides starchy stiffness (i.e. a higher level of formality). I’ve seen shirts in which vertical pleats in matching fabric are designed. I think they look plain and boring. Similarly if someone suggests to you a fly-front placket panel that covers the buttons and leaves a clean look then walk away immediately. Both these kind of shirts are for the lazy because they both want to avoid having to deal with those troublesome studs where the buttons would be.

I would advise always make sure your shirt has a starch like ‘bib’ that is attached made up of a textured pique fabric (pin dots), usually called Marcella. They look so much more elegant and classy.

Many would say that collar can be a normal Kent variety or a wing collar, which has little points turned down where the collar wings would be, but otherwise exposing the collar band. I personally think a wing collar is subject to whims of fashion and something best left in a 1920s set movie. Some can wear them very well (see Paul Newman in The Sting) but it depends on the girth of your neck. I think the wing collar can portray a man’s neck in an unflattering way.

I think the normal Kent collar is cleaner and classical, and it will never go out of style. The Duke of Windsor made the Kent collar hugely popular in his prime.

The cuffs should be double (French cuff), to accommodate cufflinks.

Many people also forego the buttons on evening shirts, instead leaving holes where you can attach studs (often matched with the cufflinks). If you are going to do that make sure that they’re mother of pearl studs.

Rule 6: Accessories are in the details

The shirt should not be visible at the waist, which calls for a something covering the gap between trousers and jacket, unless you opted for a double-breasted jacket. Traditionally, this is non-negotiable, but these days you often see people wearing no waist covering. My advice is unless you’re wearing a double breasted black tie (for which there is no need to wear a cummerbund) then always wear a cummerbund with a single breasted black tie.

You either use a cummerbund matching the bow tie (a cummerbund folds upwards, for convenient opera ticket storage) or a waistcoat. Please don’t commit the faux pas of making your cummerbund a colour other than black. Often people match their bow ties to their cummerbunds in garish bright colours which just defeats the object of why one wears black tie in the first place.

For the waistcoat, there are a few style options. Often, black tie waistcoats will have a rounded (horseshoe) cut with shawl lapels but a regular cut waistcoat is also acceptable. The key is to go simple and match the jacket fabric, facing and buttons. The back can be wool or lining, where we’d recommend the latter, to make the ensemble cooler. A stylish fob watch with chain would be a nice little detail that one can drop without telegraphing it loudly.

Consider having a white silk pocket square. You can fold it any way you like, but the so-called straight presidential fold is simple and sharp looking.

Socks must be knee length. Make them black. Again, the principle is one of clean lines and elegance. Disruptions below the trouser leg - stripes, shins, whatever - threaten to ruin the whole effect.

Shoes. Your shoes must always shine. This is one detail many men neglect. The shoes should be black patent leather. My preference would be for high quality Oxfords. I know some purists would insist that only opera pumps walk the one true path, but it is obvious on its face that those precious ribboned things, also called court shoes, are not completely in step with modern life. I know too that bit-toe loafers (thank you Tom Ford) are also more of the modern rage but I find them a little effeminate. So while I don’t see it as a style concession I do think Oxfords shined to a high sheen is the modern and best choice I would opt for a gentleman to go for. To me being comfortable in your shoes is also an equal and valid consideration.

Cufflinks and studs should be simple and classic, luxury metals and mother-of-pearl or onyx insets are nice touches. I know some punt for more personalised cuff links - like their regimental or college or some other institutional affiliation - and there is nothing wrong with that but I am on the fence about this. Generally I would leave that for your day time business suits. Showing off defeats the ethos of wearing the black tie in the first place. 

Rule 7: ‘Sprezzatura’ up your bow tie

‘Sprezzatura’ is a gorgeous Italian word - first appearing in Baldassare Castiglione's The Book of the Courtier in 1528 - that means a disheveled elegance by way of studied carelessness. This perfectly sums up how one should wear the centre piece of the black tie - the bow tie.

Don’t be taken in by the very modern fad - thank you Hollywood and modern music pop stars - of wearing long neck ties (even if they are in black) as part of your black tie attire. Just don’t. It doesn’t matter how swish you may look you still are a prat for not dressing in real black tie.

Plain black silk and entirely self-tied. That’s a real bow tie.

Anyone and his dog can always identify a pre-tied bow tie by the fact that it's just a little too studied. Perfectly straight, perfectly symmetrical, and perfectly balanced. Just like plastic surgery, clip-on bow ties just look too perfect to be real. It is one of the most obvious signs that you're a style amateur.

Avoid pre-tied bow ties (and its ugly sibling the stick-on bow tie) like the plague....unless you’re a child who is unable to tie his own bow tie. But what if you don’t know how to tie a real bow tie? It’s never too late to learn. It’s the same level of difficulty as tying your shoes. If you don’t know ask someone who does know. If you’re buying a bespoke tailored black tie the tailor would most definitely show you how to do it. Easy peasy.

Remember bow ties are supposed to be imperfect and worn. That’s what makes the wearer authentic.

Perfect symmetry is not a goal worth pursuing here. Being an elegant gentleman is.

And that’s it. Those would be my informal rules for any man wanting to be a gentleman wearing black tie for a special occasion.

Thanks for your question.

[sabraeal]

And Spring Became the Summer

[Read on AO3]

The very last of my follower fics for the 700 Followers gifts! This one was the bonus for making it to 750 before December, and I’m so glad I’ve FINALLY gotten this done...so I can do it all over again this year 🤣

The last term paper Mitsuhide writes for his undergraduate career he slips into a glossy plastic portfolio-- double-spaced and double-sided, graphs printed in full color-- and turns in personally.

It’s a wide-eyed TA that takes it, seated behind a desk that’s far too big for her. Or well, she’s not wide-eyed at first; instead she’s bent over her work, only glancing up absently to make sure she has it in hand. But a second one turns absence to alarm, eyes fixing to where he grips the plastic, and suddenly he’s all-too aware how easily how just one of his hands could swallow both of hers.

So is she; her eyes pulse wide, and then she’s tracing the line of his arm up and up doggedly, like as long as she just keeps going, she might hit the end of him. When she finally does, he offers her a sheepish smile, shoulders hunched lessen the blow.

She shrinks back, a mousey brown head peeking above an oversized university sweatshirt. So much for that.

“You could have emailed this,” she squeaks, plucking the plastic sleeve from his grip. “I mean, not that you can’t hand it in. It’s just, er...”

“No one does,” another adds, rolling across the floor with a level of curiosity that he’s pretty sure an in-person paper doesn’t warrant. When she measures him with her gaze, she enjoys every inch. “Pretty old fashioned, if you ask me.”

He recognizes both of them; their names had been on the syllabus at the beginning of the semester. He’d found them both on the department website, Amanda wearing the same Clarines sweatshirt she had on today, and Holly’s clearly from some beach vacation, cropped from the shoulders up.

(“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a stalker,” Obi says, hanging upside down from the armchair.

“I’m-- I’m not!” Mitsuhide sputters, heat creeping up his neck. One day, Obi would slip up and say these things in front of someone who mattered, someone with a much more rigid sense of humor than Professor Gazelt, or didn’t know to take every word of his with an ocean of salt like Dean Haruka, and then it would be him that got seated in front of a disciplinary committee. The last thing he needed to do before even finishing law school applications was explain his brother’s poor taste in jokes on the record. “It’s just...”

“That you’re compelled to look at cute girls on the university website?” he offers, so casual. “I could think of hotter majors, if you wanted. Psych seems like it’s the sort of place real tens might hand out, right? Maybe, uh, Education? Kindergarten teachers always are cute--”

“It’s polite,” Mitsuhide grits out, shoulders hunched up by his ears. “You should know everyone on staff in your department, just the way you should know everyone you work with. It’s the proper way to network.”

Obi watches him with wide eyes, like he’s some kind of zoo animal or-- or one of those really bad cooks on TV, the kind who tries to pan fry a chicken whole. “God, you don’t actually do that, do you?”

“It’s the secret to good business.” At least, that’s what his parents always told him.

“You must be...” Obi savors the moment, looking positively euphoric as he says, “Really fucking creepy at the department Christmas party.”)

“No one did,” says the first-- Amanda, graduate summa cum laude from Columbia-- tone aimed to shush. “I’m, uh, happy to take that, though.”

He gives her his most gracious smile. “Thank you.”

“No,” Holly-- Penn State, no honors-- mutters, casting him a speculative glance from the corner of her eyes. Hers go up and up too, but seem to come to a much more amicable conclusion. “Thank you.”

“Stop.” Amanda’s hands flex on the thin plastic; she has soft hands, a callus only on the knuckle of her middle finger, where a pen might rest. Like Shirayuki, only without the thousand nicks and cuts that dot her fingers, battle wounds from wrangling recalcitrant plants.

Her chin pulls up, set in a determined line as she says, “Congratulations on graduating.”

“Ah...” It’s a kind thought, and meant well, but knowing he’s about to spend the next three years earning the degree that counts softens the blow. “Thank you. I hope you have a nice, um, summer?”

“Definitely will be nicer not to grade papers,” Holly offers, immune to Amanda’s shushing. “Do you have pl--?”

“We should get back to grading,” Amanda says, just to the left of too loud. “Have a nice summer.”

Never repeat yourself, Mama always told him, it weakens your position.

You can never be too polite. That’s what Papa would say, when he thanked the cashier for a third time.

Mitsuhide winces; he’s always hated this, being stuck between his parents. It’s clearly time to leave. “Right. Bon été, Amanda.”

“Was that French,” he hears hissed the moment he’s stepped out the door; the same moment another voice says, “Did I tell him my name?”

He should have just emailed it. Mitsuhide can make any number of excuses about the joys of collating and color printing, about face-time and networking, but at the end of the day, he has to call a spade a spade: this has all been an excuse. A thin one too, to keep him out of the house. To put off what he knows need doing.

Mitsuhide steps into the cool air of the foyer, shivering as it catches the sweat that beaded at his hairline on the walk. His courage peaks as he stands there, right next to the shoe mat, grand stair stretching up before him, still in his oxfords--

And immediately effervesces when he catches sight of smooth, bare legs on the coffee table, fuzzy slippers worth more than his phone perched up on the mahogany. This is it, the moment of truth, fight or flight, and he-- he doesn’t know which way to run.

So he doesn’t. He’s drawn there with inexorable motion, a magnet to a lodestone, the hard soles of his shoes clacking against the wood the only thing keeping him grounded. It takes only a few steps before long, tanned legs lead up to sleep shorts; not the clingy kind that curve and cup, but the ones that hang like boxers around the tops of her thighs, rucking up as she moves. After that it’s a hoodie, worn loose and baggy, like it’s supposed to fit someone twice her size, its hood drawn tight against her face. Nothing...sexy, not the way Obi might say, with far too much eyebrows involved. But still, his mouth runs dry, tongue heavy behind his teeth.

How on earth is he going to do this?

“Kiki.” He speaks before he thinks, sinking down on the table. It creaks beneath him, ominous. “I owe you a date.”

“Oh shit.” Obi flops over on the recliner, wide gold eyes peeking over the arm. “Check out the balls on this kid.”

This is a terrible idea. He should have known not to do this in a-- a common room, one where other brothers might be hiding.

“Sorry,” he creaks, levering himself up. “I didn’t realize-- you’re clearly busy--”

“No.” Kiki’s lays her feet right on his thighs, pushing him down with a thump. “You were saying something important.”

He darts a glance to the shadow squirming obnoxiously on soft leather. “But Obi--”

“Obi,” she informs him, as imperious as any C-suite member, “can leave.”

Obi doesn’t so much bark out a laugh as honks it. “Not unless I got time to make popcorn.”

Her head doesn’t move an inch from where she’s got it, chin tilted up to meet his own gaze. Her eyes though, those slide pointedly away, fixed at their corners, radiating malice. Kiki is slow to speak, deliberate when she does, but her eyes-- well, there’s a wealth of words in every look, and right now they’re reading Obi the riot act.

It would have worked better if Obi wasn’t already so used hearing it.

“Ignore him,” Kiki decides, attention snapping back to him. “He’s furniture.”

“Oh, Ms Kiki,” Obi drawls, barreling towards a mistake, “you could sit on me any--”

“You were saying?” she says, every word iron. Obi takes the hint, for once.

“I, uh...well, you paid for a date,” Mitsuhide manages lamely, darting a worried look to where Obi lounges on the chair. “I mean, you paid a lot for a date. And I understand that you may have just wanted to donate to the frat, but if you wanted to--”

“I told you,” Kiki says, dry, toes flexing firmly on his knee. “I expect you to make it worth my while.”

“Ah, y-yeah.” Her saying that while looking at him like she did-- well, his brain had that queued up every time he blinks his eyes. Sometimes it changed venues, and there were some, uh, costume changes at times, but if he shut his eyes right now it’d spool up with perfect fidelity. “I thought it might, um, d-distract you if we tried before finals, but since you’ve finished-- we’ve finished--”

“As of twenty minutes ago,” Obi adds, so helpful.

“--I thought it might be a fun way to relax.” He’s honestly never felt less relaxed in his life just sitting here, contemplating it. Half of it he can chalk up to Obi, curled over the recliner like a gremlin, waiting to wreak his version of chaos the second he can weasel his fingers in, but the other--

Well, it’s hard to ask someone on a date when you know they’ve already got someone in mind for the position. Even if it’s just-- this. As friends.

His heart’s in his throat. At least, that’s what he thinks until Kiki’s mouth curves; then he knows it’s never been in his possession at all, but always utterly hers. “Sounds like fun.”

Tension rushes out of him on a sigh. “Ah, great. I though we might, er, go to Boston? You know,” he hurries to spit out, before any words can fall from her parted lips, “since there’s not much out here we haven’t seen.”

She hesitates. Of course she does. Boston’s practically her hometown, and he’s sitting here, thinking it’ll impress her. Like she hasn’t seen everything that’s worth seeing there twice over and in private. That she hasn’t just told him no outright is a testament to how well Mr Seiran’s raise her, and--

“Let’s make a day of it.”

Mitsuhide startles, nearly tipping off the table’s edge before he glances up, right into her row of perfectly straight teeth. Her mom’s smile, she always told him, but he’s only ever seen it on her. “I-- yes. That’s..good.”

Her lips curl, hiding her teeth. “Let me handle the accommodations.”

“Ah, no.” His head sweeps through big, nervous back-and-forths. “I couldn’t possibly ask you to--”

“You’re not,” Kiki informs him. “I’m telling you. I’ll handle accommodations. You’re seeing to the rest of the weekend, correct?”

“Y-yes.” He tries to fold his arms across his lap, but with her feet right on his thighs, it ends up with his hands covering her ankles. He expects her to move them, but instead her legs still, tendons relaxing under his palms. “That’s the plan, but, really--”

“It’s the least I can do.” She shifts her macbook off the couch’s arm, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “One night?”

“I...” He should decline. He should tell her that if she can drop a whole K on a date with him, he can shell out for one night at a hotel with a higher rating than a Holiday Inn.

But this is Kiki Seiran, heir to Seiran International. She’s not just used to five stars but the penthouse suite. He could book four star cheap on Hotwire, but imagining her in one of those suites, the sheets starched and thread count insufficient--

“Yeah,” he grunts, “one night’s fine.”

“Perfect.” Her teeth snap around the word. “Leave it to me.”

“So,” Obi starts before Mitsuhide’s even hit the last step. “We have a bet going on.”

He grimaces, shifting the duffel over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

‘Pretty sure’ turns to ‘certain’ once he catches Obi’s grin. “It’s about whether you’ll get your dick wet.”

“Sorry, not interested.” He heaves the bag beside the front door, brushing off his shorts. “Isn’t it too early for you to be up? I thought you didn’t know about the hours before ten.”

“I had motivation,” Obi assures him, slinking up beside him with a grin a mile wide. “You know, Shiira says that you won’t on the grounds that you’re a gentleman.”

More like the lady isn’t interested. “I already said I wasn’t--”

“Kai says you will,” he continues blithely, “and you’ll come back on time. Shuuka agrees, except that he thinks you’ll miss check out with all the boning down and won’t make it back until evening.”

“Isn’t this breaking the bylaws?” Mitsuhide grunts, slipping on his sneakers. “Don’t we have something about betting...?”

“For money,” Obi agrees. “Zen still wouldn’t put a bet down though.”

That’s assuring at least. “Of course n--”

“Shiira already took his.” Obi shakes his head. “And we wouldn’t allow him to say the same thing except that he thinks it’s because you’re and idiot.”

Well, that’s a little rich, coming from Zen. Mitsuhide was loath to remind anyone that besides Obi, he is the most experienced, but-- some people should be taking that into account. Even if nothing is going to happen.

“Don’t worry, Big Guy.” Obi claps him on the shoulder, smile somehow drifting towards kindly. “I gave you until Monday.”

“Obi--”

“And Kiki will walk in with a limp.”

“Obi, you know that’s not...” His breath hisses between his teeth. “That’s not what me and Kiki are like.”

“You keep thinking that, Big Guy, but--” he leans in, cupping a hand around his mouth-- “my original bet was gonna be Tuesday. Too bad Kiki had already taken it.”

Mitsuhide stares at him, slack-jawed. “W-what did you just--?”

“I should have known, you’re already here.”

His head jerks up, right to the top of the grand stair, the beginning of a quick glance-- but it’s no use. There’s no possible way he could make his eyes focus anywhere but on Kiki, not when she’s wearing-- when she’s--

“Ooh.” Obi’s mouth curls, matching Kiki’s knowing smirk. “Is that a skirt?”

It is. And not-- not her field hockey kit, mid-thigh with shorts beneath, but and actual skirt, one that floats just above her knees, gauzy and floral. A single flash of leg tells him there’s nothing else beneath. Ah, well, besides the obvious. Mitsuhide swallows hard, mouth dry.

She raises a brow, hand trailing sinuously down the banister beside her. “It is a date, isn’t it?”

Her heels clack when she takes the last step into the foyer, clack because it’s the cork of her wedges that hits the floor first, because-- nom de Dieu-- she’s wearing shoes that tilt her a few inches close to him. Close enough that he could just bend at the neck and--

“Ah,” he coughs, fingers clenching in his shirt. “You might be a little overdressed. At least for this first part.”

Both her brows raise now. “Am I?”

“God,” Obi mutters at his shoulder, head buried in his hands. “You could at least say she looks nice.”

Well, when he’s right, he’s right.

“You look, ah, great though,” Mitsuhide hurries to add. “Beautiful.”

Kiki, to his surprise, beams. “Well, I brought a few outfits. I’ll change at the hotel.”

“Ah, sure.” He scoops up his duffel, holding out a hand for her bag as she passes. “You’re ready to go?”

Her mouth quirks at a corner. “As I’ll ever be.”

He hums, uncertain, suddenly left-footed with her so close. They should leave, but that involves a number a movements he’s suddenly stymied by.

Thankfully, Obi opens the door, practically shoving him onto the porch. “All right kids, be safe now.”

“Obi...”

“Don’t worry,” Kiki drawls, sashaying over the threshold. “I packed plenty of condoms.”

The door cuts off Obi’s laugh, but Mitsuhide can’t escape the pounding of his heart.

“You know,” he sighs, trailing after her, “you’re only encouraging him when you say things like that.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” she hums, floating past. “I was trying to encourage you.”

[writingwithcolor]

Cultural Christianity, Christian Appropriation, and Derailment

Periodically, I discuss the concept of cultural Christianity, the dangers of authors mucking with folklore that is not theirs, and what you have to guard against when you’re a part of a culturally Christian society.

And every time I do, like clockwork, Christians come in and say “but what about [non-Christian nation appropriating Christianity], hmmmmm????? That’s just as bad!”

So let’s talk about all of it.

Cultural Christianity

For starters: What is cultural Christianity?

Cultural Christianity is the fact the Western calendar is primarily built around two things: farming, and Christianity

Our dedicated time off that is mostly guaranteed to all workers are Christian holidays. Easter, Christmas, Good Friday. The time between Christmas and New Year is also prone to being off and this also in some dominions has Christian events.

And yes, I know that most of these holidays actually have pagan roots. Christianity co-opted them and thoroughly Christianized them, to the point their re-paganization only really started in the 1800s… by people who were also culturally Christian, and often wrote whole books on Christianity on top of their neo-pagan beliefs.

It’s how Christmas is considered a “neutral, secular” holiday, when it’s celebrating the birth of Christ. It’s how the concept of “other religions” exist, let alone the fact they have to ask for time off for their own holidays that count against their personal vacation time, when Christians often don’t have to do that. It’s how you see more churches than mosques or synagogues in the West by a very large factor.

There are very few places in the West that are not, on some level, culturally Christian. Some very insular communities might be able to escape a lot of the trappings of Christianity, but still. The government mandated days off are mostly Christian things. 

Cultural Christianity means everyone who was raised in a culturally Christian society has a Christian lens. They are aware of Christianity, its holidays, its general story, its values. 

This translates to them having to unlearn all of this and learn a whole new framework when they begin researching other folklore (Native religions, in my case, but this also applies to other religions such as Judaism and Islam) cause other folklore/religions do not have the same holidays, values, or even relationship to the deity in question.

Christian Appropriation

So in a non-Christian society, it is possible to appropriate Christianity. Because the same factors that have Christians appropriate everything else in the West are at play with a different dominant religion.

This mostly shows up in Japanese media. Japan has Shinto/Buddhism as a dominant religion, and you’ll often hear anime or manga artists say they simply picked Christian imagery because it looks cool.

And I agree this is disrespectful! It is really not fun to watch sacred imagery of your beliefs be used because “it looks cool” and I would love it if all appropriation of others’ beliefs ended.

But that often isn’t the focus of the posts getting these comments.

Derailment

This is twofold.

1- Very few places where Christianity isn’t the dominant religion exist.

Because Christian nations colonized most of the planet, there are a lot more culturally Christian places than you probably want to admit, if you’re the kind of person who pulls “but what about the appropriation.”. This includes a lot of Africa, a lot of Southeast Asia, a lot of Oceania, a lot of South America, basically all of North America, and basically all of Europe. 

You might disagree with how they practice Christianity, but they are still Christian. This means they are culturally Christian. Just not your culturally Christian.

But, as I mentioned in the previous section, appropriation can happen. It just doesn’t happen much in the English speaking world, and I am speaking to the English speaking world. Specifically, the Western English speaking world, which is very much culturally Christian.

The places where Christianity isn’t the dominant religion, however, is mostly composed of non-white people, specifically Arab, South Asian, and East Asian. So these “but what about where Christianity is appropriated” often end up sounding like “why aren’t you persecuting people of colour”, which sounds like trying to justify racism against people over there to me.

2- You are trying to say you are as much of a victim as us, when you are not

If you live in the West, you are culturally Christian unless you have grown up very deeply entrenched in a non-Christian community.

You have grown up with a wide, wide, wide variety of Christian stories, Christian based stories, Christian values/worldviews-as-default told to you your whole life. Some of it has been terrible, some of it you disagree with, but by and large, every story has some infusion of Christianity to it. Some of the most popular fictional texts are deeply religious things, like the Chronicles of Narnia.

You have not had your religion forbidden from being practiced, to you personally.

You have only seen true appropriation in very recent times, because of the influx of non-Western media being imported.

You have not had your sacred places constantly, consistently infringed upon and destroyed for reasons like “an observatory” or “a pipeline” or “a dam” or “a mine”.

You may have dealt with misunderstandings and miscommunications but you have rarely had somebody fundamentally misunderstand what Christianity is (Jesus as lord and saviour, died for our sins, we should try to live a more godly life and a good life to get into Heaven and get eternal happiness).

Native people have not had any of those luxuries, and it has mostly been culturally Christian people who have taken what is ours and turned it into what they wanted it to be. 

We have Christian pagans (paganism was founded and codified in the Victorian era, so no, it’s not “ancient wisdom” but more Victorians—who were definitely culturally Christian—interpreting everything to prove Christianity as more universal than it was*) peddle dream catchers and calling themselves medicine people and burning sage to the point it’s endangered, all trying to claim they’re “following Native practices” when they’re not.

So when I’m speaking to somebody in the Western world, 95% of the time I will be speaking to somebody culturally Christian. 

*When you start to track the “studied ancient mysteries” things, you either find types like the Theosophical Society that wildly appropriated Hinduism and Buddhism to fit their own ends and often put in messiah figures into them to show how there’s a Christ everywhere on the planet, or you start to dive into people who took Christianized recordings of folklore who may or may not have sipped some “older religions are better for noble savages reason” juice.

It’s very often racist and pulling from records written down by missionaries who had a vested interest in modifying the folklore in question, or from people who’d already been Christianized, so its validity is questionable.

Beginning to Unlearn

If you want to learn more about cultural Christianity and how to be more respectful of non-Christian belief systems, take a look at the this post and the folklore tag in general. Those are great starting places for you to do deeper research into whatever marginalized belief you’re looking to use.

I’d also suggest earnestly learning about other belief structures’ customs, challenging your assumptions of what is neutral and universal and the proper way of doing things. You might find a lot of surprising things that you weren’t expecting, even just looking at Abrahamic religions.

In the end

When I’m speaking to somebody who wants to use Native folklore, I’m going to assume they’re culturally Christian and educate them accordingly.

I am having a conversation to Christians about the appropriation of Native culture and how not to do that.

I am not going to suddenly change topics to make Christians comfortable by proving that I’m a champion for them, because frankly, they shouldn’t be dangling respecting Natives if only they interrupt themselves to prove they’re properly educated on Christian issues. Because that demand is once again centring Christianity above Native people.

I am talking about Native issues, not Christian issues.

I do not accept derailments that are thinly veiled racism or persecution complexes based off “what if”s that have not actually happened in the West. I acknowledge they happen elsewhere, and that’s tragic. I am not the person to talk about those details. I’d rather pass the mic to Christians in the area and let them speak. They are not Western Christians’ shields to use as they will. They have a voice, as well.

I am not going to coddle people who feel that Christian values are diminishing from society because we need room for more than just Christian values and Christianity does not have a monopoly on being a good person.

I am talking about Christians appropriating Native American beliefs.

And if that makes you uncomfortable, to hear Western Christians have protection, insert their own dogma into too much, and have unlearning to do—without being able to tack on a story about how no, really, you’re a victim in the West—then you have more unlearning to do. I’ve given places to start learning above.

We are talking about Native issues right now.

And I will not stop calling Christians out for their religious-based colonialism.

~ Lesya

[karasimpno]

{Day 25} Being Alive | Kuroo x Reader

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

Genre: Christmas fluff FOR my life my love my light my hero @bluntkingkuroo​!! Grinchy Kuroo being transformed by the magic of Christmas (and you)

WC: ~2k

Warnings: none just sap:)

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

Someone to crowd you with love, someone to force you to care. Someone to make you come through who'll always be there, as frightened as you of being alive — Being Alive; Company (music & lyrics by Stephen Sondheim)

Kuroo Tetsurou hadn’t had a real Christmas in years.

In fact, it had become one of his least favorite holidays - until he met you. Invariably, he would always get called into the office late Christmas Eve to sort out some last-minute fiasco, making him work through the following morning to be ready for work’s opening the next day. His Christmases were only ever quiet, disappointing, and frankly, dismal. It was never like the Christmases when he was a kid. He didn’t think he’d ever have those child-like Christmases again.

But that was before you.

You’d gotten together at a New Year’s party two years ago. Ever the rumored player, Kuroo had never actually had much luck with dating, and had all but given it up. But your sly looks and cheeky texts lured him in and he stuck his neck out one last time to invite you to a New Year’s party, which ended up being one of the best worst decisions of his life. The two of you spent that year on and off the phone, seeing each other whenever possible, and falling in love. You became his biggest support and his most savage tormenter. By the time Christmas rolled around, you convinced him to let you spend it with him, reluctant though he was. Kuroo had so many reasons for not getting his hopes up for Christmases anymore, but not one good reason for blowing it off—and you were determined to fix that.

Waking up with you in his arms, making breakfast together and opening presents that you’d thoughtfully picked out for him, seeing the joy on your face when you opened his, he began to feel the spark of what he once felt for Christmas.

“You know me too well,” he murmured in a kiss against your hair, thanking you for the vinyl he had only mentioned once in passing but that you knew he really wanted.

“Yes I do,” you smirked playfully at him, pulling him up short as you pecked him on the cheek. The two of you dissolved into giggles as you spent the rest of the day lounging around and relentlessly teasing each other.

This year, Kuroo simply couldn’t get enough of you. For once he was proud he could admit that he was falling more and more in love with someone every day, and you knew if you played your cards right, you might actually get him to have a proper Christmas.

Sure enough, you lured him right into a casual conversation about his vacation days, and he flippantly said that he had plenty left in the year.

“So why don’t you use them to come home with me for Christmas?” you asked pointedly.

Kuroo gulped. “You mean, like with your family?” he asked.

You had him cornered. Now that he’d admitted he had the vacation days, he really had no argument against you. You laid the final trap, slinking over to the armchair where he was relaxing and slipping into his lap, giving his hair a little tousle and giving him your best “innocent” look.

“Yeah! You’ve already met them on FaceTime and just think how much more fun Christmas would be if you could away for a bit without worrying about work!” you said cheerfully. “Pleaaaase?” you mock-pouted with raised eyebrows.

And that was how Kuroo Tetsurou finds himself in your childhood kitchen.

He’s standing over a mixing bowl, a smudge of flour on his nose as you lay parchment paper on a cooking sheet. You grin, reaching across the distance that separated you, swiping a thumb at his nose to dust off the flour as he dumps the dough out of the bowl. The gesture pulls your right hip to his left and you attempt to hide your smile. You couldn’t believe he was finally here, warm and cozy in your kitchen, making cookies with you while you played Christmas music in the background. Maybe you’d turn this capitalist grinch into a holiday sap after all.

Unable to keep your hands off him, you squeeze his side as you slip past him to pull the rolling pin out of the drawer on the opposite side of him, handing it to him lazily. Kneading out the dough, he shoots you a sidelong smirk.

“What, you want me to roll it out too?” he asks. “Am I supposed to cook Christmas dinner too?”

“You make the dough—which includes rolling it out—and I make them look pretty when we decorate! Where’s the problem?” you tease with a barely-concealed smile.

“Problem is, my hands are full,” he sighs playfully as though explaining Tiny Tim’s tragic fate. You hum thoughtfully. Your lighthearted teasing was one of your favorite parts of your relationship.

“Well after you’re done kneading, I’ll need you to roll it out!” you jab at him. It’s a terrible pun and you know it so you play up the ridiculousness of it, making it clear that you were the funny part of the joke, not the joke itself.

“You need me too much,” he mutters with a smile, leaning forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, the dough still turning over in his hands. You beam up at him, planting your elbows on the countertop as you watch him work.

Cheekily, you sneak a pinch of the cookie dough from the batch and pop it in your mouth. Its sugary deliciousness fills your mouth and you can’t wait until they’re out of the oven so you can decorate them.

“Hey, you know you’re not supposed to eat raw eggs, right? Could give you salmonella,” Kuroo points out in his annoying dad tone.

“Oh yeah?” you challenge. “How come I’ve done it every year since I was a kid then and I’m still fine?” you ask as you pinch off another piece. Kuroo purses his lips together at your sass, opting to pivot and tease you in a new way.

“Oh hey you’ve got some flou—” Kuroo can’t even get his silly attempt at a come-on line all the way out before claiming your mouth in a quick, hot kiss. His lips are soft and sweet sliding against your lip gloss as he deftly slips his hand over the rolling pin, smoothly pulling it out of your grasp in your moment of being caught off guard. But you quickly regain your mental footing, which allows you tug him back against you by his shirt when he tries to break away too soon, deepening the kiss. When he’s finally able to pull away, a little shorter of breath, he smirks at you, dusting the rolling pin with flour and beginning to roll out the dough. 

“Well I guess you’ve just been spared by the salmonella then, hm?” he says with all the stupid confidence in the world.

You shoot him the most incredulous look, then outright snort at his terrible, terrible return of banter.

“Oh spared by the salmonella, hm? Yeah nice one,” you jab, openly laughing now at how he can simultaneously so cocky and so stupid at the same time.

“Hey!” he says in a fake pout, “Don’t mock me with your praise,” he exhales in a huff out of his nose as your laughing subsides. He considers terrorizing you for how bad your kneading/needing pun was but decides to let it go, admittedly just a little smitten at seeing you smile like that. You wrap your arms around his back, chin just barely able to hook over his shoulder, and any thought of teasing you dissipates completely. You can feel his lats flexing gently against your chest as he pulls the rolling pin back and pushes it forward to flatten the dough again and again.

Suddenly, even more so than in the kiss, you are overwhelmed by his scent—his clean soap and daily cologne that he insists on wearing, even on holidays—and you sway gently behind him, quieted a little at the overwhelming feeling of bliss as your arms are filled with the man you love. You find yourself pressing a sweet kiss to the back of his shoulder.

Kuroo feels his breath hiccup in his chest at the intimate gesture and resists the nearly overwhelming impulse to drop the rolling pin and place his hands over yours where they lay crossed over his stomach—he knows you’d tease him relentlessly if he melted so easily into your touch. In spite of all his lonely Christmases, in spite of how he never pictured himself in love like this, in spite of being terrified of letting someone in like this, his heart pounds unforgivingly in his chest. He bites his lips together as he works the dough, letting the squeak of the rolling pin be the only sound either of you makes.

The sultry tones of the Carpenters echo through the kitchen as the bridge of “Merry Christmas, Darling,” reaches a crescendo and Kuroo feels you sigh against him. Your warm breath on his skin makes something within him pop, and the rolling pin freezes in its place as one of his arms comes up and over you, coming to rest on your back as Kuroo turns in your arms quickly. In the blink of an eye, you find yourself leaning against his chest now as he rests against the countertop.

“Hi,” you smile.

“Hi,” he whispers back gently, his golden eyes ablaze as he ever-so-gingerly tucks a curl behind your ear. There is a moment where he doesn’t know what to say, his heart filled with some emotion he can’t describe, feeling like it might expand right out of his chest.

“You weren’t holding me close enough,” his voice is barely even a whisper. You pull your head back a little at his words, trying to look at him more closely. You swallow and slide your hands up and around his neck.

“How’s this?” you whisper gently, snuggling your body even closer against him. He just hums, an involuntary half-smile that was part pensive and part pleasure stretching across his lips.

“I love you,” he says simply, his voice full of emotion as he moves one of his hands to cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone softly. You bring one of your hands down to press against the back of his palm, holding it in place. Kuroo never thought he could love someone so much, never dreamed someone could make him feel so much just from spending time with you, someone who made him so aware of being alive. Just existing in your arms was the best Christmas present he could ever ask for.

“I know,” you smile. You press up on your tiptoes and ever so slowly let your lips ghost against his, just the barest whisper of a kiss. Kuroo’s brows draw together with emotion at the shocking passion of such a feathery light touch, his heart overwhelmed with love. Holding back a shudder, he allows himself just to be loved by you. He is completely and utterly yours.

“I love you too,” you breathe as you pull no more than a few centimeters away from his lips. “But don’t think you can get out of rolling the dough now,” you wink, turning the mood playful again as you plant a quick peck on his nose.

Kuroo lets out a comically hideous laugh, his chest shuddering against yours before returning the favor with a kiss to your nose. You shriek as his arms tighten around you, lifting you off the floor and spinning you around, protesting as he seats you up on the countertop.

“Whatever you say,” he teases with a grin, unable to resist pecking you on the cheek again before returning to the dough.

A/n: I’m sobbing. I legit was all gung ho to do the third prompt you gave me bc you were right that DID inspire creativity but then I was like how cute is like getting messy in the kitchen and kissing the flour off each other’s faces....and tHEN YOU SENT ME THAT KUROO AS BOBBY BRAINROT AND IT WAS JUST TOO PERFECT.....So yes merry Christmas to you I adore you. This was fun bc I took it a little more out of context of Company and was like OH not only does he feel that way about love but also Christmas and when you combine the two? Wow this man is SO WHIPPED FOR YOU. I feel like most of my a/ns are just me going “wow this song really wrecks me” but...yeah. This song really wrecks me

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR JOINING US ON THIS MUSICAL HAIKYUU CHRISTMAS TRAIN!!! These were truly such a delight to write and gave me something to like.....look forward to during the end of my first semester of law school (rip to me still). You guys are seriously the best you make it all worth it.

taglist: @slutawara​ @musicgetsmeoutofbed​ @azo-musxas​ @tsumurai​ @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp​ @honeybunny-sawamura​ @harokat

[jae-canikeepyou]

| kismet | j.jh | part two

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

word count: 10k+

summary: his parents sends him for a month long vacation to the country side to meet his other half, which so happens to be you. and alternatively, your beloveds asks of you to be in your best behaviour while he’s around. disliking how things turn out, you both come up with a pact with each other before your two families gathers together for christmas eve dinner.

genre: arranged marriage + bad 1st impressions

a/n: this is not proofread and i apologise for any mistakes :p here’s the next one and i hope you look forward to the final soon! enjoy reading! ~j

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| part one | part three (final) |

it was another morning johnny saw you and jaehyun arguing at a distance by the stables. be it inaudible yelling or actions that seemed exaggerated, this time it was a sight that was a little worth seeing. so he walked closer to hear this quarrel.

“you didn’t check the horses’ conditions yet? it’s been a few days and i told you to memorise the schedule!” you flipped through pages roughly that they nearly tore. “it’s your job! you’re the ‘vet’!”

“what? you never gave me any schedule to begin with!” jaehyun groaned then sat back on the hammock to rest and you were trying to get him back up on his toes. “and what if i just want to take a day off today? you can’t force me!”

“check the animals jaehyun. that’s an order.” you sighed, writing down notes to keep updated with the stocks and materials. “i have some things to do—”

“like what? practicing and riding?” he asked and you didn’t answer. “thought so. you rarely do things around here and you still brag about how accomplished you feel.” he scoffed and laid back down on the hammock. “i’m the one doing the work..” he mumbled until it was inaudible for you.

ouch that hit the mark. johnny could see your cheeks bubbling up and eyebrows narrowing at jaehyun’s comment. of course he wouldn’t know that because you usually do not deal with the hard work around the farm. the only job you work hard for was horse riding. you had a reputation to hold as you were the daughter of a renowned family.

jaehyun took a huge inhale as he swung himself like a mother did to lull a child. he sung to annoy you even more and with the ruffles from the papers in your hands, johnny could tell his friend was satisfied making you mad. you bit your hairtie between teeth, tying your hair up into a high ponytail and rolling up your sleeves until the elbows.

he was indeed a huge man, you grabbed the edge of the cloth and pulled him as high as you could. he fell miserably to the hard soil. “ow quit it y/n!” he stood up to dust the impossible dirt from his pants. “you’re just sensitive because what i said is actually true! i’ll get back to work if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he fixed his coat and head straight inside the stables.

you crossed your arms and tried your best to hold your changing expression. “talk about sensitive! you can’t even withstand heavy workload!”

“mentally i can but i’m not physically ready! i didn’t sign up to be your pawn so stop acting like a queen and actually help out!” he grabbed the hay and scattered them in the horses’ place.

the audacity- the fall from three days ago still had an impact on you. “didn’t you hear what i said? i have things to do! now continue that. i have to answer this call..” you sounded irritated and soon your voice sounding further away the more you spoke. jaehyun saw you answering the ringing phone, taking it from you.

before you could, you were draped on his shoulder as if you were a towel. “i won’t take that as an excuse, y/n! you’re coming with me!” he forcibly took the phone off your hands and threw it far.

defeated and exhausted to talk back, you tapped his back because fear was slowly consuming you due to your shoulder pain. “you’re buying me another phone! put me down jaehyun! my back still hurts!” you hit his hips and expected he wouldn’t listen but,

he did as you were told.

“you’re forgetting your condition number one!” jaehyun pointed his temples as anger became visibly seen on his face. “you said ‘you’ll do the work for me and with me’, and they go together!” he threw a small sack of hay to you.

“you’re being an ass because i invaded your day-off!” you stomped to the next horse.

“tsk, i don’t think i can continue this with you! you‘re ruining my well-being every single day!”

“the jeong jaehyun can’t stand arguments?” you tilted your head in frustration and nodded at his silence. “thought so. this is part of the pact you suggested and i’m just simply following it! so if there’s anything, you’re the weak one here!”

from afar, johnny was taken aback behind the fences.

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the kitchen was quiet, the grandfather clock ticking away time and as each second passed, so did your patience. daylight met its end. it was day 14 and your mother asked you to give jaehyun the lesson he wanted to have— bread making. you forgot about it, and jaehyun probably did too because despite staying over for ‘vacation’, every day you either saw him with his friends goofing around the barn or him superglued to his school work.

yet now you were close to smashing his face into the mountain of flour he carefully, and slowly built. mark did a better job despite being clumsy. you can handle clumsy, but you couldn’t handle people with top perfection in their ego, a.k.a., jaehyun.

his dimples were hollowing as he looked intently at the numbers on the scale, waiting for that specific and exact digit to appear with a spoonful of melted butter. “oh my g- you’re wasting time!” you grabbed the spoon and put everything into the bowl. “0.1 or 0.2 grams makes no difference! hurry up and mix the dry to the wet ingredients!”

“i was nearly done with the measurements but you had to dump everything in there!” still he stirred them in a bowl with a whisk anyway. “you’re the impatient one!” he carried the bowl and placed it between his arm and waist, subtly asking johnny to film him.

“uhm what do i do after they’re incorporated?” mark interrupted the heated conversation. so far he was careful and observant with your every move. “do i knead it?”

“after twenty minutes.” you smiled at him. this was great; mark actually made your day at least, a lot better than jaehyun did. “resting it will let the flour hydrate. the milk will be absorbed and the gluten will relax too.”

mark snapped his fingers as he tore a plastic wrap to place on the bowl. “that makes it easier to knead right?”

for a moment you felt like a proud mom. “mhm, you’re learning! you’re originally not my student today but you’re doing a better job than—”

the bowl jaehyun was using fell to the floor. to make it worse it was upside-down, that meant all work done had gone to waste. the dough wasn’t close to incorporated. “..him.”

“crap.” jaehyun swore under his breath. his lashes slowly lifted. “my bad. i don’t mind starting again. i can handle my next batch.”

and though they were pretty, your disappointment came through your sigh. “goodness jaehyun. things are never right with you. i’ll clean this up. we ran out of eggs and milk so you have to go to the farm and get some.” you pulled mark’s arm aside as you began to clean. “mark you can chill for a while.”

jaehyun untied his apron and went out with a bucket, mumbling and complaining to himself at exasperating you were so early in the morning.

johnny then followed him. the pact he heard lingered in his head and thought this would be the right time to ask. “i can do the milking myself john.” he opened the gate to the cattle.

“i know. but that’s not why i came along.” johnny put his camera aside. “you and y/n.. made a pact?” with that question out and jaehyun dropped the bucket, johnny figured that what he heard days ago could be true.

“what?” jaehyun turned on his heel, confused, trying not to sound or look surprised. “why would i make a pact with someone so ill-mannered as her? she’s not worth my time or even interests me.” he affirmed with subtle shaky eyes. “the only pact i know is this marriage our parents put us into.

johnny thought for a while, looking at jaehyun who grew clueless the minute passed. he guessed he was wrong. “n-nothing. i’m probably hearing things. or jumbling scenarios because i’ve been watching too many movies this holiday season. i’m sorry dude.”

deep inside jaehyun let out a sigh of relief, but anger was starting to boil at how careless you were for slipping out. he continued to milk the cows and retrieve a couple of eggs before hearing you call them from the house. “oh my g- she’s screaming again-” he scoffed and tried to walk faster. “i can’t just run i might spill the milk bucket!”

“there’s this thing called speedwalking!” you yelled. “try doing that!”

“you always argue with her. aren’t you both tired?” johnny took huge leaps to escape the cold.

“she isn’t, i am. imagine the amount of stress i get the moment i open my eyes in the morning.” jaehyun vouched and shivered at the thought of it.

johnny opened the door and the warmth met their skin. “sure but when you do bump heads, there’s always a smile on your face after you state your point. i never seen you in a good mood since you and sue broke up. i can take that smile of yours a sign.” johnny noted what he’d been seeing.

“it’s a victor’s smile. it means i win the argument.”

they both entered the house and to find you still teaching mark. jaehyun placed the bucket down and rested on the sofa after being told he could use the kitchen once you were finished. trying to keep warm, jaehyun gave small glimpses of you as he wondered when it would be the right time to tell you about what johnny told him. and because he felt johnny tailing him from behind, he wanted your lesson to be over quick.

“i’m thinking it’s a sign that you have feelings for y/n.”

jaehyun batted his lashes. “no no no. i don’t fall in love that easily. there’s nothing attractive about her and i told you i’m not marrying someone like her, with bad attitude and all—”

“and still you tease her for fun? that’s like a cover-up to hide how you actually feel. you may not see that but in another’s eyes, it means something.” johnny clicked the buttons on his camera, rewatching the videos he took.

“are you throwing the ‘i tease her because i like her’ kind of ego? you know i argue with her because i hate her.” he hissed, flipping his laptop open to double check his reports.

the blonde hair boy shook his head with a growing grin of disbelief. “i’m not. my point is, it wouldn’t hurt to try to know her for who she is.” johnny’s lips flatlined when his eyes trailed to your approaching figure. “who knows maybe she’s trying as well and never really got the chance to- yeah i know y/n he’s all yours now.”

unfolding your arms you playfully hit his back with pressed lips. “shut it johnny. just help the baby lion with the cleaning, he’s not really good at it.”

you sat on the sofa, circling your shoulder to ease the pain before leaning back. “ugh. kneading the bread made it worse.”

with the frequent complaints coming from you, he couldn’t concentrate proof-reading his work. it made jaehyun unzip his coat, fishing something from inside and handed a box to you. bothered with how you hesitated to get it, he grabbed your wrists and placed it on your palms. “take it. it helps me a lot too whenever i cram.” did he just.. smile? it was subtle but you were sure he did.

a swarm of guilt started to form at the pit of your stomach. it wasn’t that you thought he partially blamed himself for the fall at the barn house, but because he actually cared when the fall wasn’t even the ultimate reason why your shoulder suffered in the first place. he had no knowledge and still doesn’t. and it was kind of frustrating to think you couldn’t begin that topic.

your heart now was experiencing somersaults. you asked yourself: why? sure he’s handsome and got built, but at this moment why are you all flimsy and speechless? “so you do have a heart for people.” you opened the box of the patch’s packaging.

“i was expecting a ‘thank you’ but i guess with that you’re taking back your words.” he grinned as he typed on.

you snorted as you put your legs up. “hmpf, aren’t you assumi- ow.” you touched your forehead where the pain stung.

“shut up, i’m reading.” jaehyun stressed in a low voice.

“reading what?” you scooted in closer, and jaehyun surprisingly let you see what it was rather than snapping at you. you squinted at the screen and nodded. “equine studies..” you read out softly, that seemed to be a report he worked on in his early years. “isn’t it mandatory for you to study it?”

jaehyun’s scrutinizing gaze caught you off guard, making you clamp your lips to keep quiet. he sighed and continued to read as if you didn’t exist. “i thought you weren’t interested in my field of study.” his brows drew together at your curiosity despite remembering how you did say it clearly.

quickly you tear the patch’s plastic to break the awkward silence you brought upon and let out a soft chuckle of shame. “i’m asking because it’s equine related and i wanna learn. plus i’m too tired to pick up a fight with you so teach me everything you know.”

“i don’t even know if you’d get it in one night- fine. it’s mandatory but i only learnt the basics. i’m not specialising in it or anything so don’t expect much.” jaehyun stared at the screen yet feeling your presence so close kind of pressured him, and he didn’t know why.

“basics like checking the heart, respiratory rate, temperature and hydration status?” you hugged your legs together after placing the patch behind you. “hm.. that’s kinda simple.”

jaehyun clicked his tongue. “that’s the general checking for an animal’s condition, used for emergency access and such. we were given an understanding of veterinary anatomy—”

“which includes learning principles in developmental anatomy in gross, microscopical and ultrastructural levels. learn all these then you can focus on organs to give a physical and radiological diagnosis with the physiology and anatomy as bases—” you finished his sentence, soon shutting up as you got carried away.

his mouth agaped in shock and in strangeness of your interest. he checked your forehead to see if you were in the right mind. “did you read it out from a book or something? and what’s up with you and scientific terminology? you’re supposed to be hating on big words.”

you wondered why his comment hurt you. did he assume you were uneducated? at this point you thought deeply that secrets were meant to be kept. and they were only to be revealed by two ways; one was heard by others, and two was at your will.

“why are you so quiet now?” he laughed, scrolling down at endless of documented pages. “are you experiencing brain fart after that long sentence of sophisticated vocabulary?”

this was far from assumption. this was plain mockery. and it hurt. you hit him on the arm a little more violent and forceful than the usual, and bite back your lips. “it’s not because i’m dumb. i know these because i’ve been there.” you stood up and grabbed the box he gave you. “thanks for this anyway. good night.”

“hey you don’t have to hit me!” jaehyun paused for a second, he had difficulties processing your sudden outburst. he mumbled to himself, “why is she offended when i’m the one who got hit..”

mark happily came out of the kitchen with a freshly baked bread in his hands. “y/n! i’m done with the bread and it smells soooo good- jaehyun, where is she?” the younger one put down the tray.

he sighed and gestured confusingly. “i don’t know she probably went to sleep.”

“man i wanted her to try it.”

“she can try tomorrow. anyway i’m gonna take a shower.” jaehyun turned off his laptop and headed straight to the bathroom.

but before he could have his relaxation, hendery stood against the opposing wall with arms crossed. “can we talk?” he tilted his head, asking to sit at the veranda with him.

they sat at the table set with hendery pouring cups of hot tea. jaehyun took it in his hands, eyes meeting your childhood friend’s as he brushed his hair up. “i kind of wanna tell you something. it’s not my position but i feel like you deserve to know.” that made jaehyun’s mind questioning more. “i overheard you and y/n talking.”

jaehyun frowned at the very recent event, something he found rude from your action. “yeah? she reacted so much and hit me just because i teased her a little. might’ve taken it too seriously but she should know i was joking about her not knowing-”

hendery looked at the dusk distance. “m’lady loves animals more than anything, and for a long time veterinary science is something close to her heart too.”

jaehyun gulped in full on revelation. that was why you reacted. he realised the reason why you hated him in the first place wasn’t only because he was the one you were to marry, but because he was the person who was currently studying the course you’ve always wanted to take.

���she was supposed to take it in college but due to unfortunate circumstances she couldn’t continue. there’s family issue and she had an accident-”

what accident? jaehyun for the first time in other’s eyes, showed worry and curiosity. and his raise in brows cause hendery to realise he missed out an important detail.

“ah you haven’t met mr. y/l/n yet, right?” hendery asked as he sipped on his tea. “he’s busy right now because he’s always out of town but he’s the one y/n’s having issues with.”

“i’m guessing her father opposed to the idea of her becoming a vet?”

hendery shook his head. “he didn’t oppose. in fact he allowed y/n once we graduated high school. she got enrolled to the first semester and was doing well until she had little time to no practice for her semi-finals at cross country at all. mr. y/l/n is a horse riding coach so he’s especially strict with y/n. let’s say their arguments started from there.”

though he didn’t ask parts of your personal life, hearing all these news stunned jaehyun. there was only one thing he wanted to ask: what caused your accident? “how did she do with vet science?”

“she managed and had no fails.” hendery had a brief proud smile. “sadly mr. y/l/n didn’t find it impressive, because he really thought his daughter would be an equestrian like him. y/n hoped he’d be understanding but yeah anyway, you get the gist from there.”

“if it ever crosses her mind, we’ll see if she does. i’ll head inside for a shower. thanks for letting me know.” jaehyun had his palms on the knob, turning around one last time to confirm something. “was the accident, bad?”

“not as life threatening, but it was enough to traumatise her.” hendery picked up the plates and cups. “she.. still hasn’t recovered.”

he stared back at the young lad’s expression, and he could tell hendery has been looking after you ever since. maybe it was better if he hadn’t asked.

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you still shook your legs after hendery warned you of your decency and image, saying that that action was his pet peeve. but really, it was just an excuse to save himself from you due to the fact he said that shaking legs while thinking wasn’t ladylike at all. you couldn’t keep yourself in one place, pacing back and forth in the barn with marg eyeing you since it already been long you did so. “sis.” she cleared her throat and you stopped being jittery with biting your fingers. “what’s up with you?”

“nothing.” you lied, an uneasy feeling began to build up in your chest as the man you despise gently held the horses’ manes. “i’m fine, just thinking.”

jaehyun did the final checks for your horses’ health conditions and to be brutally honest not only did you find him surprisingly quiet, he was rather kind and collected for four days now. he even taught you some veterinary related topics in which you were surprised he was willing to teach. maybe he took your subtle request when you wanted to learn anything he knew about equine medicine. perhaps he wanted a break from all negativity when it came to you. in fact he did mention he couldn’t continue arguing anymore.

and in those four days it got you thinking about the pact. you had a week left and you weren’t sure if you convinced your family or jaehyun’s friends enough to call off the marriage. yes you’ve been at each other’s nerves for small arguments and there were times you forget about it too because the way you both fought was so natural. however today was just too quiet, like he was stopping the fights on purpose and for what reason exactly?

marg slid next to you when you went out for fresh air, nudging you by the waist with hers. “obvious again.”

“w-what?” you widened your eyes, earning a sly grin from your sister. “obvious about what?”

“your heart is on your sleeves. i can see it. the others might do too. so tell me, do you like jaehyun?” she crossed her arms, her grin widening when you began to be jittery again.

“ha?! no!” you stuttered and lied, and you knew marg’s claims hit the nail.

because not only did the past four days of not talking with jaehyun had a toll on your pact, but it definitely had on your heart. there were a total of four things you discovered about him.

1. jaehyun was a fast learner. he learned to clean horse hooves, saddle them and even did carpentry in one day.

2. he had humour but no one really acknowledged it, and appeared a little dorky to you.

3. his dimples were actually cute and has a vampire smile.

4. he really did have a heart for people too. you saw how he helped out your family whenever you were absent.

sometimes these traits softened you, and sometimes you wanted to at least be his friend. but you weren’t close to being one because the pact clearly prevents you to and in the end, it was better off that way. marg held your shoulder. “i know you fight a lot but that’s when the developing starts.” she paused, looking back at the barn. “jaehyun seems alright but you’re really being too obvious.”

“again, obvious about what? i hate it when you’re so vague stating your point.”

“if you wanna talk with him just do it.” she turned around a little to see the said man removing his gloves. “i noticed you’re both distant. it’s been four days so i’m guessing you’re not used to not fighting him. you tend to miss whatever you both stopped doing.”

you pinched her cheek. “do you even know how mentally draining it is to reason out with him?” you darted a gaze at her before a weight was put upon your head. it wasn’t that long for you to realise it was jaehyun. gosh how irritating. you even recognised the perfume he wore.

“i know exactly how that feels, marg.” jaehyun winked at her. “can’t mess with this one,” he messed your hairdo. “she’s feistier than most animals i’ve encountered.”

his giggle of pride echoed in your ears and you thought you were able to tolerate his reply but no. whether he was doing his part for the pact or not, whether he was enjoying this or not, he became more of a jerk the longer he stayed here.

“i’ll leave you two to talk. the light in y/n’s eyes changed when you arrived- ah!” she held her arm as you pushed her aside, and she was proudly walking away with what she had done.

jaehyun shoved his hands in pockets as he gestured you to follow him into the barn. it was only the two of you now while the rest surveyed other parts of the land with hendery. he held jet’s reins, usually your horse would react whenever strangers would. not to jaehyun, shockingly. you bit your lips in wonders what this man had in his mind.

“i just checked him like you taught me. he’s dehydrated.” he pinched a part of its skin close to the mane. “you practiced this morning right? didn’t give him water?”

“i gave him enough.” you unlocked the gate to jet, soon petting him. you couldn’t help but feel immense awkwardness. “did his skin snap back?”

“not as fast as i expected but he needs a little more fluids to keep the levels normal.” jaehyun wrote down numbers before handing your notebook to you, and you thought today was going to pass again without progress for the pact. “i’m gonna walk around for a bit. later.”

“hey.” you called out perhaps a little too rudely and instead of talking things through. he stopped in his tracks. “setting the vet thing aside, aren’t you being too quiet right when we have a week left? it’s been four days and by now some of them might notice the sudden silence. did you forget about the pact?” you asked, not knowing why you were fuming all of a sudden.

maybe it was because he was only staring at you. or that marg’s obversation was slowly getting to you and convincing that her hunch about you was right. “you’re a jerk when i met you but you’re even more so nowadays.”

jaehyun turned around with pursed lips, he didn’t like how you always assumed, especially giving him nicknames in which his friends also have gotten used to calling him those. “me? a jerk? i’m doing all i can to stop this marriage because we both know how it feels to be controlled.”

his answer only made you laugh. “ha you don’t know anything about me, jaehyun. if you’re actually doing something why haven’t you done anything then? you’re being careless-”

he brushed his hair & wore his cap backwards. “it’s not about if i’ve done something! y/n it’s about what you did!” jaehyun pulled you to a corner in caution if anyone heard him. “you were loud and careless! last week johnny asked me if we made a pact because he heard you mentioning it! i assure you he has a mind i still couldn’t understand and he’s probably trying to connect the dots now-”

“wai- you’re saying he knows about it and you’re only telling me now?!” you slammed jet’s gate, your eyes fixed him. “you could’ve told me right then and we could’ve solved this as soon as possible! how much do you think he knows?”

jaehyun slowly rubbed his face, shook his head and shrugged shoulders. “i don’t know! but you know what happens when he figures out we’re arguing for show? he’ll tell everyone we did that because we’re against this marriage! and in the end? we’ll be stuck with each other for life-”

“ugh don’t even tell me about it i couldn’t even stand the sight of you!” you wrapped yourself more in your coat, stomping straight outside and ignoring his reactions towards you.

“why are you like this when it’s clearly your fault?!” he quickly grabbed your shoulders to forcibly turn you around. “i’m telling you and you’re so reactive about it?”

you pointed at his chest. “no! it’s your fault for not telling me sooner!”

“oh so now it’s my fault? y/n look at yourself! can’t you see that someone impudent like you can cause troubles even for a slightest bit! you’re at fault!”

impudent?.. this was all too familiar and nostalgic.

jaehyun then closed his eyes at the stinging pain in the groin. “ugh what the hel-”

“you deserve that-”

right when that felt good and you wanted to hit him more, you were yanked backwards by a force. you fought back the arms restraining you. “y/n stop!”

“let me go wong kunhang! this jerk needs a lesson!” you growled in his arms, shimmying your body through them.

hendery reminded you of your shoulder and soon you stopped. “i’m sure that kick was enough for a lesson and calm down, will you?”

“jae you alright?” johnny helped him up. “hope it’s not too injured because you still need that for reproduction-”

“seriously? now’s not the time.” jaehyun glared at him then to you, you were now like deer in the headlights with his stare. “this is why i can’t stand you.”

mark, hendery and johnny looked at each other trying to figure what had happened. “what were you two arguing about?” hearing hendery ask, you tugged on your coat once he let go of you. “we heard her yelling that she couldn’t stand the sight of you and then you’re both blaming each other.”

you hesitatingly looked down to your boots, avoiding their curious gazes. fidgety as you knew you were, you tried not to respond. they heard from that far of our conversation.. oh my go-

as if jaehyun could read your mind, he cleared his throat. “it’s nothing. y/n’s just stubborn as usual. she doesn’t want to admit her fault when i told her jet’s dehydrated. guess she didn’t want to look irresponsible.”

“classic y/n.” your cheeks suffered from hendery’s squeezing palms. “how many times do i have to tell you to behave? c’mon you’re better than this.”

jaehyun sighed in relief that they were convinced with his reasoning.

jet’s snout poked your arm and exhaled, you cursed under your breath for not locking the gate. “then you should know why i’m like this.” you reiterated with a flat smile. “i’m gonna go to the bar for a drink. don’t bother me.”

“oh then we’re coming with! mark! you’re driving!” johnny pulled the boys into jaehyun’s car. “this hurt dude needs cheering up after you nearly ended his career for having kids.”

“maybe it’s better off that way?” you grinned with a tattling tone.

“i hate you so-” jaehyun barked before his voice was shut off by the car door. his expression became funnier with how the vehicle muted his voice.

jet and cash trotted slowly to let the car go first, hendery rode ahead of you as you followed him. beside the roadside was fields of green, laying flat with new flowers that have yet to bloom. by now the horses were galloping alongside the car, you could feel jaehyun shooting daggers at you. the joy to horse ride diminished when you took a glimpse of him pointing at you, sliding his clenched fist from left to right and pointing at his chest.

you’re dead to me. he spoke with his eyes. and you could hear his annoying voice in your head.

you flicked the reins to ride faster, passing hendery and cash. reaching the bar first would make you feel better and it would at least let the neighbourhood know you weren’t hanging out with boys like him. you soon unmounted yourself from jet and led him to an area where he could stay.

the bell chimed and you raised your hand for a simple mocktail. funny how you told the boys you’d be here for a drink yet didn’t plan to get drunk. you sat by the bartender’s while you saw them entering and sat at one table by the window. honestly you could’ve went elsewhere instead but this bar was the closest from home. and right now you really needed to clear your mind.

to clear your mind from jaehyun because you knew he’d be the death of you.

—

and how you ended up on the same table with them was too hazy for you to recall.

“i was like, singing my heart out at one karaoke place after i was rejected from the coffee shop i applied to. then the girl of my dreams had appear while i was all sweaty and sloppy and i was shirtless! it was really-” johnny spoke too fast for you to hear and curled his fingers remembering it.

“second hand embarrassment was too much at that point.” jaehyun chuckled and sipped on his glass.

“but john, you got her to say yes even though you’re high and wild.” mark raised his palm for a fistbump.

mark turned to you. “y/n what’s something you couldn’t forget?”

you smiled slyly towards your childhood friend and hendery’s panicked face resurfaced with begging hands. you feel yourself going tipsy but went for storytelling anyway. “this previous halloween i forced hendery to dress as rapunzel because i wanted to dress as pascal.”

mark let out a contagious laugh which had everyone giggling too. you brought out your cracked screen phone which jaehyun broke and showed a picture of you on a piggyback ride with hendery. the said man cowered himself from the compliments and while you continue to keep him in the spotlight. jaehyun found it unbelievable that you were quickly switched from cranky to giggly when drunk.

“here’s the awesome part,” you slurred your words with hiccuped breaths. “around nine guys asked me to ask for his number and i gave it to them! he was that hot! i could never compete!”

jaehyun oddly cackled out loud and you all turned heads to him. “of course you could never! i mean look at you!”

his friends raised brows as jaehyun was enjoying this a little too much. perhaps taking advantage of your drunken self. “you dress weird and your hair’s a mess. you’re always rude and sometimes smelling like a horse. by the way that’s such a turn off to guys like us. like do you even bathe-”

you were definitely tipsy but you understood his words clear enough to feel a wave of emotions blanket over you. forgotten memories began play in your head and began to sulk.

“yeah i know i’m like this and so what if i’m plain and ordinary?” you whined and the boys held their breaths.

“my parents think i couldn’t take care of myself after i dislocated my shoulder at cross-country.” jaehyun heard you.

“because of that they started to pair me with accomplished men they think could give me a better life. so i misbehave every time they bring a suitor over.” you propped elbows on the table and glared at jaehyun. “you’re the fifth and before you arrived i lied to mom and dad that i recovered, hoping they’d stop and leave me alone but nope! they think you’re the one-”

hendery managed to catch your collapsed body from falling. he let out a soft laugh. “mhm, she spills a little too much when she’s drunk-”

you covered his lips and did several clicks of your tongue. “i’m tipsy! not drunk but tipsy! are you spilling tea about my life to that jerk?”

he scoffed lightly. “of course not! i didn’t tell him anything.” he lied.

you pinched his cheek. “i doubt it. you’re a talkative donkey! they should cast you to be part of shrek musical next fall!” you giggled and tried to keep yourself awake from all that drowsiness. your eyes dropping to slumber.

“m’lady.” he fixed you on his side and you were now carried on his back. “jaehyun doesn’t know a thing.” he cooed, giving jaehyun a wink to zip his mouth shut regarding the topic.

small sobs began to bubble out from you, you clung onto hendery. “ah jaehyun? you know that jerk called me impudent? he said i always cause troubles but what choice to i have? i don’t want to be betrothed!” you wailed and mark and johnny raised brows at jaehyun as soon as you said it. “hendery he called me impudent! he’s just like dad and i hate them both!” you leaned on his shoulders.

“but do you really hate jaehyun?” johnny smirked as he enjoyed how open you were compared to being sober. jaehyun noticed where this was going and tried to stop him but the tall lad shushed him when you spoke.

“yes!” you slurred with a lopsided smile and narrow brows, which looked strange as they couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing.

“i hate him because he’s so prideful! ‘jeong jaehyun, veterinary medicine student’ my butt. i should’ve been one too but daddy said no.” you pout, soon knocking out. “i hate how.. handsome that jerk looks-”

your friend hopped slightly and quickly got out of the bar so you wouldn’t cause a scene any further. “i’ll bring her to my place, it’s just a block from here. you guys can go ahead.” he told the guys to call it a night. “i’ll take jet and cash to my stables at home. see y’all tomorrow.”

they got on the car and started the engine. jaehyun read the atmosphere among them, he fixed the front mirror and saw mark and johnny with questioning looks. “what?”

“did you really call y/n impudent?” mark played with the buttons of the window.

jaehyun stepped on the pedal to head to your place. his friends bombarded him with what if’s and was too tired to respond. but just to shut them up, he replied.

“i was angry when i said that. i didn’t really mean-”

“do you think she meant it when she said you’re handsome?” johnny asked to cut off the weird vibe lingering while mark propped his fists to rest.

“she’s drunk. not like she can remember it anyway.” jaehyun clenched on the wheel.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you woke up in hendery’s bed with a tray of breakfast on his desk table. you slid it towards yourself to eat when a folded paper fell from underneath.

i saw jaehyun at the grocery store earlier, he asked me to pass this breakfast to you. also! he said he’ll be at the barn’s loft. now go meet him. ~hendery

great, he pissed you off yesterday and he was the last person you wanted to see today. what was his plan now? he prepared breakfast and yet what was the use of eating the meal when it has gone cold? you tied your hair to a top bun and wore your glasses, quickly grabbing your coat, onto to jet’s back and went to the barn.

the sun’s heat was enough to make you warm on the way there. jaehyun swung his legs while he waited. he stared at the ground when a shadow appeared, you stood at the entrance asking him to come down.

he did that, but there was a different air around him. it was the same air as those four days of silence between the two of you. “at least you’re not late.” he slid his palms into his back pockets.

“did you want to talk to me about something?” you asked with a slice of bread in your mouth. he nodded with intense eyes. “then make it quick. i have to make my rounds-”

“i’ll go with you.” jaehyun suggested and you choked on your bread.

“what?” you gulped on the huge piece stuck in your throat and stopped him from walking. “why not tell me now?”

he pulled you to jet’s stall and pushed your back to mount on the saddle. “‘cause it’s better if they don’t see us talking normally when we’re supposed to be at each other’s throats.”

he’s definitely up to something..

jaehyun rode a bike, leading you and jet through woods and up on a hill where its summit towers part of your family’s lands. from here you could see your house and tiny figures you assumed were his friends. you haven’t gotten a clue why jaehyun was being nice again. and if he was, why today? why bring you all the way here to have this conversation? you couldn’t think of anything at all and maybe you should’ve eaten the meal he prepared for you.

when the winds blew, jaehyun spoke in a soft voice. he was awkward, you could tell that, but what he did was something you didn’t expect. he leaned back with his palms on the grass. “i’m sorry i called you names.”

hm.. you better be.

that apology alone pierced your heart, in a good way. if he was tired from all the negativity and endless banters, so were you. it had been fifteen days after all. maybe this was a cool break before continuing with the pact. “which ones?” you copied his position and counted your fingers one by one. “there’s ugly.. shorty.. lazy ass.. a no brainer-”

“i didn’t call you tha-” he paused, his lips forming an ‘o’ until he pursed them together seeing you mimic him on his laptop. “right. i implied it when you wanted me to teach you equine studies. anyway the bottom point is, i’m sorry for calling you impudent.”

you chuckled, but to him it sounded more of a scoff. “haven’t heard that in ages. never expected i’d hear that again.” you looked at him, he did too, there was a stare down before you spoke again.

“but yeah. i guessed you did that to fulfill your part for the pact. the guys were probably nearby and you thought of that to spark up the conversation. are we done?”

jaehyun rested his arm on his knees. “no that’s not what i meant- i’m being sincere here.”

“okay? then tell me what’s on your mind. you brought me up here. it’s gotta be something worth my time.”

“i feel like the pact just brings the worse out. and whenever it does, i don’t feel myself anymore. like this is not me.”

he picked up a dandelion, letting the wind take its soft pieces. he wished his feelings weren’t easily swayed like the flower’s petals. he knew he was easily hotheaded, stubborn and mr. perfect, but should he always be like these?

“then who is the real you?” you caught some flying pieces of the flower before looking back at him for answers.

“a studious douche who got his heart broken by his ex.” he shrugged and waited for your bicker, but you sat there with shocked eyes and struggled to find what to say. “yeah, in case you’re still surprised, i do have a heart for people.”

“i heard you.” you flicked his temple.

he held back fists from hitting back. “hey why’d you hit me?”

“it’s my way of being affectionate.” you laid on the grass and while he copied, you thought that jaehyun had a point, how the pact seemed a good approach yet with deteriorating results.

“by being violent?” jaehyun moaned as he asked. “ever thought that a pat in the back would be better?”

you glared at him. “let’s continue what we’re doing with another condition.. no personal or evil intentions whatsoever, or maybe a slight hint that we’d start dissing. we’re doing this for ourselves and..” you cleared your throat. “..helping out a friend.”

it made total sense, because he knew how much of an effect it did when the purpose of the pact was done unconsciously and naturally. he let out a tight and breathless sigh between his lips. “i’m your friend? after calling you all that?”

“i just needed something to describe you. would calling you a douche make you feel better after you apologised?” you stood up and headed downhill.

“well you did call me ‘handsome’ last night.” jaehyun singsonged and carefully walked down the stoned steps.

you froze at how stupid and blabbermouth you could be whenever you went to the bar. “i don’t remember, since i’ve been studying the things you taught me.”

“you can ask the others if you think i’m lying.”

“y’know what? i take back the condition i said.” you quickly hopped on jet to head back. “don’t bother me!”

“what do you mean studying? you’re planning to pursue vet sci? hey!”

“yeah.” you made jet walk in circles around the confused man, and your one-word response had jaehyun confirming you already decided to tell your father about it.

and it’d be on christmas eve too.

—

for almost half an hour marg couldn’t contain her feelings after you told her what had happened. marg squealed and you quickly covered her mouth since the door wasn’t entirely closed. she squeezed the pillow and hid herself behind it.

“he apologised?! such a gentleman! i mean mark didn’t really tell me the details but jaehyun really felt guilty?” she put the pillow down and crawled next to you on your bed.

as to why she reacted this way remained unclear to you, you figured it was probably she watched too many rom-coms with johnny in the past few days. “i admit, it was considerate of him to do that. but it doesn’t prove he’s already a good man.” you fixed your files and past researches of veterinary science. “sometimes an apology isn’t enough.”

your sister nudged you in a force causing you to stumble in your stance. “ey you’re too mean. him apologising is already enough of a sign that he’s a good one, and raised well.”

“i don’t know marg.” you slumped on your bed. “my head’s hurting because of him.”

she raised a brow and gave you a teasing look. “by thinking of him or he just couldn’t get out of your head?” she kicked her feet to escape your balling fists.

“why are you reacting if it’s not true?!” her giggles grew in volume as she brought out her phone record your reaction.

“get out of my room!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

jaehyun walked around the mart in response to yet another order from you. it had to be a day before christmas eve too. he should be feeling the very essence of christmas and because of you, he didn’t. people who happened to pass by him swore they saw a walking corpse, while some sensed a spreading dark cloud hovering above him.

his demeanour quickly shifting and changing as if the clouds blocked his rays of sunshine. he was mumbling to himself and those who stood close by took careful small steps away from jaehyun, for he sounded like he was enchanting a spell.

he thought about it a lot— whether it there’d be a difference between the two of you if you hadn’t taken back that condition. because now that he was controlled like a pawn again, he wasn’t going to back down or lose to you. at least for the past few days since then he saw an improvement. you weren’t as violent, not a single word of hate from you nor were they intentional. it was obvious you were helping out. a small smile managed its way to resurface until he saw a reflection of himself looking like an idiot. jaehyun, you’re a fool. you shouldn’t be feeling this.

ignoring his subconscious, he turned a heel at the next grocery aisle when a voice attracted attention, at least to him it sounded like hendery. hearing your name from an unfamiliar man’s lips had him peeking secretly at a distance. “i suppose y/n’s behaving well with jaehyun?”

“better than everyone expected.” hendery followed him with hands deep in pockets. “aside their petty arguments, she gets along with him, mr. y/l/n.”

“that’s good to hear. i knew the jeong’s would never fail my expectations. their son is in vet school, yes?”

the mentioned name chilled him to the bone. he wasn’t to supposed to be feeling in this manner yet the very presence of your father already had gotten his shoes glued to the ground. hendery nodded and continued to walk along with him. “i hope he doesn’t encourage her about it too much. having y/n marry him would keep her quiet about ever continuing vet school.”

jaehyun’s back grazed the products he lightly leaning upon and stood still in his thoughts. he wasn’t the type to eavesdrop on others, let alone your family issues. although he was briefly told about your rocky relationship with your father and couldn’t hear much of the conversation, he shouldn’t care or meddle with it but.. did mr. y/l/n really think that?

and he remembered how you told him you’d pursue veterinary.

he fished for his phone with certainty that he would tell you what he had heard. he nearly dropped his phone when it rang and your name appeared as the caller. staring at it for a while, never in his life had he ever hesitated before— given that he was a straight forward person, he wanted to tell you.

and he didn’t know why he decided to keep his mouth shut and stayed behind, instead of doing the opposite. hendery noticed him beside the hundreds of chocolate chip buckets. “oh jaehyun!” he greeted, making your father turn his head around. “come here!”

jaehyun pressed his lips for being caught, steadily and unwilling to go them. he wished that now would be the appropriate time to be walking on super glue, he really didn’t have the mood to talk to your father. it wasn’t the right time as their conversation about you would probably escalate from there.

“hello mr. y/l/n, i’m-” he greeted, unknowingly staring at him longer because you were his carbon-copy.

“i know you’re jaehyun and i’ve been updated enough that i wouldn’t have to be physically at my residence to know your good qualities.”

“glad to know someone’s giving you the correct information.” jaehyun smiled, subtly gazing straight at hendery with more pressure on the tone of the name. hendery then clamped his lips to a close, regretting he should’ve minded his words carefully.

mr. y/l/n nodded with a chuckle— even hendery rarely saw him doing so, ever. and this only proved that there wouldn’t be a better groom fit for you other than the son of his childhood friends. “i like your personality. mind joining me for tea?”

jaehyun read the situation, and what your father was up to. he had to listen for another half hour even though he felt his phone continually vibrating then stopping. he knew it was you, but how could he answer when the person you grew to hate was with him at this moment? one word from him through a phone call would make you go berserk.

anyone could see that jaehyun was fighting a mental dilemma. for anyone it would be an easy question to answer; free food, you’re in. his future father-in-law asked for company, sure why not. jaehyun felt like he only one answer, and it had to be a correct one. he gulped and though he eyes wavered, he agreed anyway. “i don’t mind, but y/n would probably be moody if i don’t return immediately.”

“mhm, no worries. i won’t keep you long.” mr. y/l/n said, and jaehyun didn’t know why he had a small heart attack on what possibly could follow.

he lead him to a restaurant, hendery nudged the troubled-looking dimpled man. “sorry dude. he likes snacking on things but i’ll try to divert his attention so you can go to y/n asap.”

—

the relieved sigh didn’t last long when looked up from the ground. jaehyun spotted you crossing arms with a slight worrisome look. your fingers then pointed at the kitchen window and it looked like his soul left his body and his footsteps on the ankle-high snow. the curtains indoors brushed to one side with his parents facing back from the windowsill at the upper balcony.

his heart was beating his chest as if it wanted to go out. he planned to tell you what he and your father talked about, but in that previous hour he missed out your text messages and calls— not knowing they were that important. now he knew why they were.

you took his phone and clicked on the lock button, he didn’t check your means to reaching him. they were still in the lockscreen. “i know you’re a seenzoner but you shouldn’t ignore important calls! i was calling you an hour ago because your parents came so suddenly. did you know about their change of plans?”

he gave you other paper bag and made his way inside. “no they were supposed to arrive tomorrow.” to you jaehyun seemed grumpy for doing groceries, but it was obviously not the case when kept looking elsewhere. he bit his inner gums in question as to why he was venting out his irritation at you instead of the revelation that was told to him.

you followed him in and began bring out the items to set the remaining food on the kitchen island. something told you not to go overboard with the planned argument you had in mind, but you couldn’t handle the way he was acting now, as well as giving you the sudden silent treatment. behaving this way was such a wrong timing and you decided to cut the silence before it made you feel worse than you already were. “you good?”

“y-yeah.” he tilted down to take a quick look at you while realising lately how you hadn’t been sleeping well. the puffiness under your eyes was proof. he cleared his throat. “uh, i should be asking you but have you been studying.. lately? or have you been staying up all night?” he asked, changing the subject.

he twitched at your outburst excitement with your palms rested on his arm, shaking it vigorously. now that he reminded you, you gestured him for a whisper. “i found another way to stop this marriage without us hurting each other.”

what? his eyes grew big.

“aren’t you hurting me now?” he cleared his throat, referring to the reddening spot on his skin from your grip. he knew what you meant. he knew you’ve been sitting in your bed the whole day, reading e-books and going over past lectures documents.

“if i tell my dad that i’m pursuing vet school again, i think this time he’d let me. i’m confident because i do have a degree in equestrian sport science. imagine the benefit if have a degree in veterinary?” you opened a carton of milk to drink. “i wonder if my credits’ still applicable?”

“you sure you wanna do that?” jaehyun held the top your head, gripping it as if it were a basketball. “it’s gonna take you years to finish.”

“scared to have a competitor in the field, jaehyun?” your voice challenged him.

he wasn’t scared at all, he loved competitions as well as proving he could do things. but, he was scared for you. he knew the outcome of all this because it was already planned out. he was told by your father during tea break before he arrived here.

chills slowly went down your spine with that one, subtle, short silence from him.

“i’m not scared. it’s just that..” you shot up your head at his remark. he trailed off and shut his lips seeing your parents enter the living room with his beloveds.

“just what?” you stared at him with a long hum.

he had to lie and keep his opinions to himself. “are you able to take on hard words in that tiny brain of yours?” jaehyun scoffed, leaning in closer to provoke an argument with his hands patting your head.

“hey! you’re insulting my height, not my brain!” he heard your innocent whines as if they were precious— too precious that he wanted to protect you than to fight you; just for tonight.

and for the first time he was laughing sincerely at you.

week three had you imagining things, that he would look at you so differently. instead of horns they’d be halos, softer looks than tensed ones, and most of all you wonder what changed him within a day. it was confusing that he would show another side of him, then go back to what he was when you first met him.

but tonight? his possibility of change soon went void.

during dinner, whether or not it was right, that choice you made became one of the two things you regret to do and say. your father said his ultimatum in a low voice by the hallway, isolated from everyone enjoying the celebration.

“dad, please. i’ve done what you want. i think it’s time you’d allow me to do what i want.” you kept your head low in all hope this would be your final time to ask. “i’m successful as an equestrian, i hope to be more so as a veterinarian. please let me continue. i don’t want to get married yet-”

“still holding onto it, y/n?” he scoffed and took quick glances at his surroundings. “i’ve done everything for you to be known, raised you to be the best rider out there-”

and he too, held with the same stupid reason. “no dad! i raised myself to be the best because heavens knows how much damage it’ll cost me if i failed you-”

“this is the last time i saying it, you’re never going to be one.”

“but dad! you know how badly i want to be a vet-” you whined and hoping you wouldn’t cry because you promised yourself you wouldn’t.

“y/n you’re marrying jaehyun solely for that reason!” he whisper-yelled, making your heart squeeze tight because you could see how your complaints have pissed him off. “he seemed to be agreeing with me after i invited him for tea.” he fixed his hair.

w-what did he just say?..

he loosened the top button of his shirt; his gaze still scared you like it did that night. he held his temples to reason out with you. “discipline yourself tonight. i do not want hear anything from you about this matter ever again.” the impact of his tone shattered you. not only your mood but with how you perceived jaehyun as a whole.

you couldn’t remember much afterwards, anger roamed around your head and as much you kept your composure, jaehyun has a sharp eye. you’ve been quiet since coming from the hallway, hours have passed too since your father called you upstairs.

“are you alright?” jaehyun leaned on the refrigerator while you took some fruits from it. figured that you were completely ignoring him, he grabbed your favourite sweater to snap you out of your clouded feelings. “are we doing the pact now?”

it was getting suffocating being next to him. the audacity of what he did disgusted you. “hey tell me-”

you shut the fridge’s door with much force, held your breath and went to the sink to wash them. “i’m not doing it. and what’s there to tell you? just because i opened up to you that doesn’t mean we’re already close.” you coldly answered with a irritated look.

jaehyun was abruptly taken back, his hand let go of your clothes. “why are you’re suddenly like this?”

you began washing the apples as well as peeling their skin. “you’re not born yesterday, jaehyun. this is my usual self.”

“no y/n, i’m not talking about-”

“what the hell is your deal?” jaehyun could hear you mumble even with the loud blasting of holiday playlists.

“i just want to know if we’re starting the argument,. it seems like you’re doing your part-”

“you knew all along, didn’t you?” the sound of peeling almost excruciating to your ears but nothing more than his reaction to your question. ‘that my dad would refuse my plead.”

painful as it was, his expression changed. he was colder than the snow outside, heartless as a predator and unresponsive like a dead man. he just stared at you straight, acknowledging it with soft wavers of his brown orbs.

and that alone was enough to break you to pieces.

[waywardodysseys]

Eight Days of Christmas - Day 2

Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x female reader

Warnings: cussing, fluff

Summary: Your third Christmas with Ransom Drysdale.

Day 1

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

Ransom taps the steering wheel. He hates driving during the holiday season. The roads are packed with crazy drivers who disobey traffic signs and flip one another off if they don’t get their way. Blaring horns drown out the Christmas music coming from the radio as Ransom slams on his breaks, “Oh fuckin’ come on! GODdamn it!” He’s about to lose his mind as he waits patiently, tries to at least. Ransom sighs as snow begins to fall from the overcast clouds above. It’s not going to help with the traffic, but it would definitely add to the wow factor for tonight.

He and Y/N have plans to drive over to Somerville and take in the Illuminations Tours the town holds annually. Another tradition they had started three Christmases ago when they spent the holidays together for the first time. Ransom recalls they had started a few traditions that year - picking out and decorating the tree then making love, shopping at Faneuil Hall, baking sweet treats, ice skating and sledding, spending Christmas Eve with her family, spending Christmas Day with his, and of course, seeing Christmas lights. 

Minutes later as night moves in and he’s finally out of the traffic, Ransom heads towards his, no, their house. He had gifted Y/N with a key last Christmas, making their living together arrangements official. He parks the Beamer and keeps the engine running as he jogs to the front door, which swings open, revealing you in a couple of layers of clothing. He smiles, knowing you’ve been waiting for him to arrive. “Ready to begin the evening?”

You smile, “Yes!”

Ransom checks to make sure the door is locked then escorts you to the running car. “Good.” He helps you in then walks over to the driver’s side and climbs in. “I’m ready too.”

“So, you have been eagerly awaiting tonight?” you question as he begins driving. You hear soft Christmas music playing. “And you're listening to Christmas music? Oh my!” You chuckle as Ransom glances at you.

“What can I say? I have someone in my life who’s shown me what Christmas means. And how to take it all in, instead of pushing it all aside and avoiding it.” Ransom grins, “And yes, I have been waiting for tonight.” He motions a hand towards the windshield, “And it is snowing. Bonus to make it beautiful this year.”

You can't believe your ears. When it came to Christmas, Ransom was still hesitant about a few things, yet he was slowly opening himself up to the magic of the season when it came around. You already knew you had opened the door marked Christmas and showed him plenty of things over the course of spending two Christmases together; this year would mark the third one. He was becoming less and less of a Grinch as the years passed on. “Soon enough I won't be able to call you Grinch.”

Ransom chuckles, “I’ll always be your Grinch.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “And your Saint Nick because I always give you what you want.” 

His deep, lust-filled voice heats your already warm body. Imagining him in a Santa suit and sitting in his lap is sending pleasure waves through you. “One day I’ll get you to wear a Santa suit, and you won't be able to tell me no.”

“As long as you know you’ll be the only one seeing me in it,” Ransom states as he parks the Beamer. “Then...maybe I’ll wear one.” He grins when he hears your soft laugh as the two of you climb out of the car. He’s by your side instantly and grabs your hand as the two of you begin walking towards the town square and Main Street.

You burrow into him and rest your head against his shoulder. “Finished with your Christmas shopping?”

When the two of you walk into the square, children are running about, some of them throwing snowballs, others building snowmen and making snow angels. The snow had been falling steadily for an hour, enough to coat the earth with a few inches. Carolers singing traditional and modern Christmas songs fill the air, along with the smell of fresh-baked cookies and hot chocolate. Main Street isn’t quite packed yet for a Friday evening, but it soon will be.

Ransom’s eyes take in the scene before him. He then squeezes your hand. “I already know what I’m getting you for Christmas,” he finally responds. “And everyone else.”

“What? Ransom Drysdale is finished Christmas shopping?” You give a laugh then continue, “We’ve already been to Quincy Market this year. Which come to think of it, you didn’t seem panicked, unlike the last two years when we went.”

Ransom shrugs, “What can I say? I was actually prepared this time.”

You stop and pull him towards you. You run your fingers over the bold patterned silk scarf with an array of colors you gave him last Christmas, which he wears nonstop. You loop your arms around his neck as you feel his arms snake around your body. You soak in this moment, never wanting to let go, never wanting to let him go. 

“Have I rendered you speechless, sweetheart?”

You nod in response before Ransom places his mouth against yours. He kisses you gently then deepens the kiss as he moves one hand down and pulls you further up against him. A few slow seconds tick by before he pulls faintly back and looks at you. His blue eyes are smiling along with his lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart swells with emotion. “I love you, Ransom.” You sweep your mouth against his once more, not paying attention to a few of the onlookers who are seeing the public display of affection. 

“So romantic,” an elderly woman remarks as she walks by with her husband.

Your cheeks feel hot as you faintly pull away from Ransom. He chuckles lightly as you burrow into the front of him, “Let’s enjoy this winter wonderland so I can get you home.”

You contently sigh, signaling you agree with him. He grabs your hand so the both of you can begin to walk along Main Street, taking in the businesses decked out with Christmas window displays. Soon you turn down a residential street, officially deemed “Candy Cane Lane”. No cars are allowed down the street, allowing people to wander from one side of the street to the other freely. 

The residential street is lined with houses decorated to the brim with Christmas decorations and lights. Some people are taking pictures to remember the night, while you and Ransom soak everything in as you stop and pause to look at each one. Plenty of people are oohing and awing at the countless Christmas decorations adorning every single house. The luminous, twinkling lights are intoxicating and inviting. Every color imaginable is on display for all to see.

A few houses did scenes from movies like Christmas Vacation, Polar Express, and A Charlie Brown Christmas. A couple of houses had inflatables along with their decorations. One house showed the Nativity Scene in all its glory. Another house had its lights in sync with a couple of Christmas songs, which filled the street with not only crunching snow but laughter as people watched it in delight. 

Every house is glorious like the last. Somerville Illuminations Tour never disappointed, especially when nearly the entire town partook in the event. The town was probably a beacon of light to aircraft flying nearby, or even the International Space Station flying high above the Earth. 

You and Ransom enjoy hot cocoa and warm gingerbread cookies when you return to the town square, taking in the carolers as they sing their melodies of Christmas tunes. More people are making their way through the Christmas light display along with some listening to the carolers sing too. Everyone is having a jolly time enjoying themselves with their loved ones. 

Once you two are finished with your sweet treats, you burrow into one another for warmth and head back to his Beamer then onward to home. Thoughts swirl through your mind, glad you are spending another holiday season with Ransom Drysdale and knowing soon enough Christmas might just turn out to be his favorite holiday.

[taylorinthetardis]

Wallflowers - A Henry Cavill x Reader fic

So I did a thing! Rather than continue to work on my larger, more complicated Pride and Prejudice fic, I decided to make a fanfic out of the fantasy I had at work the other day!

There will most likely be a part two to this, I just thought I was at a good stopping point and wanted to see what you guys thought about it.

Full disclosure: I didn’t mean for this to whole ass turn into a Bath and Body Works ad, but it kinda did. For those of you reading in countries that do not have Bath and Body Works, its basically just a body and home care store. In the US their scents are legendary. Pretty much every young girl went through a BBW phase where that was all they used for soap and perfume. That all being said, in the interest of further disclosure and covering my ass, I own neither Bath and Body Works nor any of the trademarks on the scents listed herein. I also do not own Henry Cavill because owning human beings is a crime.

This is my first Henry fic so be gentle with me! It’s a bit longer than I had anticipated and un-beta’d.

Warnings: just a lot of fluff. some self-deprecation. loads of swearing. don’t know if I should warn for slight bashing of the religious but I will anyway so no one gets mad at me.

Wallflowers

It was shaping up to be another boring ass day at Bath and Body Works. I had started working here during the Pandemic after I was laid off from my job at the movie theatre. I had planned on it only being temporary, but even after things got better and I got my theatre job back, I decided to stick around. What can I say; a bitch is broke. Nothing wrong with double-dipping.

There was something about Sunday mornings in the mall. Probably because people around here still went to church in the mornings. Like it matters. Sunday mornings are always so slow, here and at the theatre, but the day always picks up after 1, when morning church services finish. It was me and Samantha up in the front room this morning, working out the leftover boxes from yesterday’s shipment. She was one of the first people I really bonded with here, both of us being super into both Marvel and DC, specifically Sebastian Stan and Henry Cavill. They had just started filming the next Superman movie and they were going to be shooting scenes up in Michigan again, like they had for Dawn of Justice.

“I’m just saying, we should really consider asking for a few days off and just going up there and scoping it out. I mean, it’s Henry fucking Cavill. He’s less than an hour away from us. Right now. Less than an hour. When is that ever gonna happen again? I can use some of my vacation time at the theatre, so at least I’m not missing out on money from them. It’ll be a blast. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? We don’t see him? I mean at least we’d have tried. I’d rather try than stay down in stupid Ohio with the knowledge that he’s that close.”

“Do you really think Ann’s going to give us time off to stalk Superman?”

“We ain’t gonna tell her what it’s for! Just lie, c’mon now.” I laughed. I dropped a box of Gingham body cream into the understock drawer and broke the box down. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement, oh goodie, a customer. Samantha was quicker to greet them.

“Welcome to Bath and Body… OH MY GOD!” I turned around and was met with the sight of none other than Henry fucking Cavill, sheepishly running his hand through his now jet-black curls, obviously embarrassed at having been recognized. Damn, am I glad I put make-up on this morning. Alright Y/N, this is your fucking chance. For once in your damn life, be fucking cool. You can do this. You look good, you smell like Champagne Toast, you’ve got this. I pulled my hair down from its messy bun and shook it out a bit before walking over to where Samantha was still trying to collect herself. The store radio started playing Halsey’s Bad at Love and I had to bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the situation we were now in. Not five minutes ago we were talking about seeking him out and now here he was in all his brick-shithouse-ness. I looped my arm through Samantha’s in a show of support.

“What a wonderful coincidence! We were just talking about you and now here you are! It’s crazy how the universe works, isn’t it? I’m Y/N, this is Samantha; what can we help you with today, Henry?” I smiled my most adorable smile at him, the one that makes my little cheek dimple pop out, and, honestly, they both looked shocked. Samantha was clearly surprised that I was more capable of speech than she was, and to be honest so was I, and Henry seemed shocked that I would openly admit that we had been talking about him before he got there, which probably wasn’t a great thing to say, but I panicked.  

“Well, I was told this was the best place to go for candles and air freshener-y type things. The house I’m renting just has this odd odour that I can’t get rid of. I’ve been airing it out during the day, all the windows open, and I come home and it still smells funky. I know I could just find a different place, but it’s close to a park and that’s been nice for Kal and I don’t want to make a fuss, so…” Henry sort of shrugged, the buttons on his plaid shirt straining with the movement of his broad shoulders, and gestured around the store as if to say “that’s why I’m here”.

“Well, you’ve definitely come to the right place. All of our home care is in the second room, grab a basket, I’m sure we can find you some scents you’ll like.” He walked over to the basket tower to grab one as a couple more customers walked in. Samantha nudged me towards the second room; I was going to have to handle Henry alone for now, it seemed. He followed me over to the Wallflower wall. “So, these are our Wallflowers. They’re sort of like the Glade Plug-ins, I don’t know if you’ve seen those, you plug this diffuser into any power outlet and screw the fragrance bulb in and it diffuses the scented oil into the room. They last for about a month or so. These’ll probably be the best option for you, well these and maybe a room spray or two to start with. The candles are good, but obviously the scent is gonna be strongest when they’re burning and it’s probably not a great idea to light a bunch of candles and then leave for the whole day.”

He chuckled. “No, I’d say you’re right about that. I definitely don’t want to burn the place to the ground. Are there any scents that you’d recommend?”

“Well, I mean, it obviously all depends on your personal preferences. I like sweet scents. I like my space to be smelling like a bakery or a candy shop at all times, so I tend to go for anything like that. We actually still have some of our holiday scents that we’re trying to get rid of and there’s this really great one in that line called Spiced Apple Toddy. It smells like apple pie. I love it. It’s only out during fall and winter so I stocked up. I need it all year long, honestly. I still have so many other scents at home, but like I’m probably never gonna get sick of it, for real, it smells so good. Or I might go every other month swapping between that and Black Cherry Merlot because that’s awesome too. And then there’s Champagne Toast, I mean, that one might be a bit too feminine for you, but I love it. It���s sweet and just a tiny bit citrusy. I can’t do any of the floral or like, outdoorsy scents, they set my allergies off. And honestly there’s some of these that I smell them and I’m like, who is putting this in their house? Like, what nutjob thinks this scent is good? How many people have senses of smell that are this screwed up?” At this point I was rambling, talking excitedly and with my hands, handing him testers to smell and trying to gauge his reactions to know what to hand him next. He didn’t have any bad reactions to anything I gave him until I handed him the tester for Fresh Balsam. His nose scrunched up in the most adorable way and he very carefully set the tester down on the counter as far from him as he could manage. He handled my word-vomit good-naturedly, with a small smile on his face, nodding and chuckling when he thought something I had said was funny. Our fingers brushed a few times as I handed him the testers and after the third time, I began to feel like it was deliberate on his part, but it couldn’t have been, could it? He couldn’t really be interested in me. He’s Henry Cavill. I’m just, well, I’m just me.

Me, with my two minimum wage jobs, still living with my parents, inching ever closer to 30 years old. Why would he want any of that? Why would he be interested in me physically either? I mean, he’s literally flawless and I’m short, overweight, I eat like shit, I don’t exercise, hell, I barely know how to put on make-up correctly. Yeah, I look good today, but that’s not par-for-the-course.    

He put a few each of Cinnamon & Clove Buds, Black Cherry Merlot, Limoncello (for the bathrooms, he said), and Laundry Day (for the laundry room, obviously) in his basket along with enough of the plugs so he’d have one in each room. He also grabbed a Black Cherry Merlot and a Limoncello room spray off the shelf next to the Wallflower display before turning back to me. “So then, where do you keep this Spiced Apple Toddy that you like so much, or did you hide them so you could have them all to yourself?”

I chuckled nervously and ran my hand through my hair, sort of disbelieving that he was actually paying attention to what I had said. Boys never listen to me when I talk, I always have to repeat myself, but I guess that’s because I usually end up talking to the dumb ones. Henry’s not dumb. He really is just fucking perfect, isn’t he? Pretty and he listens? That shouldn’t be such a difficult combination to find, but for me it had been. “They’re on the table over here with the rest of our leftover Christmas stuff. Hopefully the tester is still there somewhere.” I put my hands in my apron pockets and I could feel the jolt of confidence I had had just minutes before leaving my body. His charm had worn me down, bringing me back to my normal, anxiety-ridden self. I caught the toe of my boot on the corner of one of the other tables as we walked towards the center of the room. I stumbled, but before I could fall his arm was already out to steady me, wrapping around my waist to keep me upright.

“Are you alright Y/N?” A look of genuine concern was on his face and I swear to God I swooned. Like, fuck, I just stubbed my stupid toe, it’s not that serious. I mean yeah, I stubbed my toe and then almost fell into a table covered with candles in glass holders, but like, I didn’t fall, you caught me, please stop looking at me like you care. You can’t give me that much hope. It isn’t fair. And goddamnit I love the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth. Like, fuck it’s never sounded so good. This isn’t fair, why is this happening?

“Yeah, Henry I’m fine, just a stubbed toe. Thank you for…you know.” I gestured down to his arm, which was still around my waist. The sound of me bumping into the table drew the attention of the rest of my co-workers, however, who were now coming out of their various positions to see what was going on and to make sure no one had broken anything. Samantha popped her head in from the front room and Kelynn and Mira came out from the cashwrap with Pilar and walked to the edge of the third room to peek in. All they saw was me, blushing profusely, with Henry Cavill’s beefy-ass arm still wrapped around my fucking waist. “Everything’s fine guys. I promise.”

“Holy shit, is that…”

“Mira!”

“But Kelynn that’s fucking Superman!”

“You can’t cuss in front of him Mira, he’s a customer!”

“Will you guys cut it out? You’re embarrassing us in front of the hunky British dude!”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about we all pretend like this isn’t happening right now? Pilar can go back to the cashwrap, you two can go back to whatever it was you were doing, and I’ll go back to what I was doing, namely making a damn sale!” I extricated myself from Henry’s grasp so I could shoo them back towards the cashwrap. They turned and walked away, bewildered looks on their faces. I turned back to Henry who was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat and ran his hand through his curls, leaving them messier than they were before. An errant one fell over his forehead and I wanted to brush it out of the way, but he just left it.

I walked over to the table that I was originally heading for and found the Spiced Apple Toddy Wallflowers. There wasn’t that many left, but there was still a tester. I grabbed it and spun around to bring it to him, assuming he hadn’t followed me, but as I turned, I found myself going face first into his massive chest. I put my unoccupied hand up to steady myself and pushed on his chest to force him back. He was just too close. Why was he so close? He opened his mouth to say something but I beat him to it. “Here. This is what I have in my bedroom right now, this is Spiced Apple Toddy.” Oh god, why did I say it like that? The one I have in my bedroom. Jesus Christ. He quirked his eyebrow at me and cocked his head to the side, smirking a little. Instead of taking the tester from me, he took my much smaller hand in his, guiding it up towards his face so the tester was close to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. A serene smile spread across his face and I felt my face get hotter. He opened his eyes, looking down into mine. Fuck I could drown in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, I like that very much. You were right. I think that one’s my favourite.”