#another primary school story!

[autistic-katara]

np :)))

I wonder what Christian meme groups are like. I mean some Christians have the biggest victim complexes in the world and if you couple that with first person perspective memes, you’d probably get memes like:

[reasonsforhope]

Here's the top 2 stories from each of Fix The News's six categories:

1. A game-changing HIV drug was the biggest story of 2024

In what Science called the 'breakthrough of the year', researchers revealed in June that a twice-yearly drug called lenacapavir reduced HIV infections in a trial in Africa to zero—an astonishing 100% efficacy, and the closest thing to a vaccine in four decades of research. Things moved quick; by October, the maker of the drug, Gilead, had agreed to produce an affordable version for 120 resource-limited countries, and by December trials were underway for a version that could prevent infection with just a single shot per year. 'I got cold shivers. After all our years of sadness, particularly over vaccines, this truly is surreal.'

2. Another incredible year for disease elimination

Jordan became the first country to eliminate leprosy, Chad eliminated sleeping sickness, Guinea eliminated maternal and neonatal tetanus, Belize, Jamaica, and Saint Vincent & the Grenadines eliminated mother-to-child transmission of HIV and syphilis, India achieved the WHO target for eliminating black fever, India, Viet Nam and Pakistan eliminated trachoma, the world’s leading infectious cause of blindness, and Brazil and Timor Leste eliminated elephantiasis.

15. The EU passed a landmark nature restoration law

When countries pass environmental legislation, it’s big news; when an entire continent mandates the protection of nature, it signals a profound shift. Under the new law, which passed on a knife-edge vote in June 2024, all 27 member states are legally required to restore at least 20% of land and sea by 2030, and degraded ecosystems by 2050. This is one of the world’s most ambitious pieces of legislation and it didn’t come easy; but the payoff will be huge - from tackling biodiversity loss and climate change to enhancing food security.

16. Deforestation in the Amazon halved in two years

Brazil’s space agency, INPE, confirmed a second consecutive year of declining deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. That means deforestation rates have roughly halved under Lula, and are now approaching all time lows. In Colombia, deforestation dropped by 36%, hitting a 23-year low. Bolivia created four new protected areas, a huge new new state park was created in Pará to protect some of the oldest and tallest tree species in the tropical Americas and a new study revealed that more of the Amazon is protected than we originally thought, with 62.4% of the rainforest now under some form of conservation management.

39. Millions more children got an education

Staggering statistics incoming: between 2000 and 2023, the number of children and adolescents not attending school fell by nearly 40%, and Eastern and Southern Africa, achieved gender parity in primary education, with 25 million more girls are enrolled in primary school today than in the early 2000s. Since 2015, an additional 110 million children have entered school worldwide, and 40 million more young people are completing secondary school.

40. We fed around a quarter of the world's kids at school

Around 480 million students are now getting fed at school, up from 319 million before the pandemic, and 104 countries have joined a global coalition to promote school meals, School feeding policies are now in place in 48 countries in Africa, and this year Nigeria announced plans to expand school meals to 20 million children by 2025, Kenya committed to expanding its program from two million to ten million children by the end of the decade, and Indonesia pledged to provide lunches to all 78 million of its students, in what will be the world's largest free school meals program.

50. Solar installations shattered all records

Global solar installations look set to reach an unprecedented 660GW in 2024, up 50% from 2023's previous record. The pace of deployment has become almost unfathomable - in 2010, it took a month to install a gigawatt, by 2016, a week, and in 2024, just 12 hours. Solar has become not just the cheapest form of new electricity in history, but the fastest-growing energy technology ever deployed, and the International Energy Agency said that the pace of deployment is now ahead of the trajectory required for net zero by 2050.  

51. Battery storage transformed the economics of renewables

Global battery storage capacity surged 76% in 2024, making investments in solar and wind energy much more attractive, and vice-versa. As with solar, the pace of change stunned even the most cynical observers. Price wars between the big Chinese manufacturers pushed battery costs to record lows, and global battery manufacturing capacity increased by 42%, setting the stage for future growth in both grid storage and electric vehicles - crucial for the clean flexibility required by a renewables-dominated electricity system. The world's first large-scale grid battery installation only went online seven years ago; by next year, global battery storage capacity will exceed that of pumped hydro.

65. Democracy proved remarkably resilient in a record year of elections

More than two billion people went to the polls this year, and democracy fared far better than most people expected, with solid voter turnout, limited election manipulation, and evidence of incumbent governments being tamed. It wasn't all good news, but Indonesia saw the world's biggest one day election, Indian voters rejected authoritarianism, South Korea's democratic institutions did the same, Bangladesh promised free and fair elections following a 'people's victory', Senegal, Sri Lanka and Botswana saw peaceful transfers of power to new leaders after decades of single party rule, and Syria saw the end of one of the world's most horrific authoritarian regimes.

66. Global leaders committed to ending violence against children

In early November, while the eyes of the world were on the US election, an event took place that may prove to be a far more consequential for humanity. Five countries pledged to end corporal punishment in all settings, two more pledged to end it in schools, and another 12, including Bangladesh and Nigeria, accepted recommendations earlier in the year to end corporal punishment of children in all settings. In total, in 2024 more than 100 countries made some kind of commitment to ending violence against children. Together, these countries are home to hundreds of millions of children, with the WHO calling the move a 'fundamental shift.'

73. Space exploration hit new milestones

NASA’s Europa Clipper began a 2.9 billion kilometre voyage to Jupiter to investigate a moon that may have conditions for life; astronomers identified an ice world with a possible atmosphere in the habitable zone; and the James Webb Telescope found the farthest known galaxy. Closer to Earth, China landed on the far side of the moon, the Polaris Dawn crew made a historic trip to orbit, and Starship moved closer to operational use – and maybe one day, to travel to Mars. 

74. Next-generation materials advanced

A mind-boggling year for material science. Artificial intelligence helped identify a solid-state electrolyte that could slash lithium use in batteries by 70%, and an Apple supplier announced a battery material that can deliver around 100 times better energy density. Researchers created an insulating synthetic sapphire material 1.25 nanometers thick, plus the world’s thinnest lens, just three atoms across. The world’s first functioning graphene-based semiconductor was unveiled (the long-awaited ‘wonder material’ may finally be coming of age!) and a team at Berkeley invented a fluffy yellow powder that could be a game changer for removing carbon from the atmosphere.

-via Fix The News, December 19, 2024

[jasontoddiefor]

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

[lectern-fullcauldron]

hermits vs kids irl, my favourite stories:

the time Joe and his kid were at a shared pool somewhere and another kid was talking so loudly about how cool Iskall is

the time Cleo was teaching in primary school and got asked 'have you ever heard of mumbo jumbo, miss' and then having to act like they haven't known him since he was 17

the time etho was out with a friend and the friend's kid went 'omg that's etho' to their dad, and the dad came back like 'why does my kid know you?'

the time that Cleo left their job to be a YouTuber and their whole class was desperately trying to figure out who she was

Joe's kid going from 'minecraft sucks' to my friends are grian stans so I am too, dad explain grian to me (dad can we get hermitcraft (grian), no we have hermitcraft at home (Joe Hills))

Impulse's whole extended family being made to watch his new hermitcraft rap as Christmas entertainment by his mum

every take my kid to work hermitcraft video. from stress' kid dissing her season six castle, to Joe's kid getting multiple hermitcraft episodes dedicated to how much he loves her, keralis' ongoing joke about making his kids do all his grindy work, doccy chirping in the background of videos, and on and on and on

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oml 😭 you’re stories continue to make my day, thank you so much! I was wondering if I can just get some domestic fluff with the task force 141

You're so sweet! Thank you!! I can absolutely write some domestic fluff. I've been working on Dog with No Teeth and some more suggestive prompts, and this is such a great break from it. Expect softness and gentle!141.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: domestic fluff, married life, softness, kissing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

John wakes before you. He always does. It’s engrained in him—like clockwork.

In the soft rays of the early morning sun, John drinks his tea while reading over the weekend chore list you’ve made. It hangs on the fridge, clipped to the metal by a homemade magnet your youngest made in primary school. You have it in your head that you’re going to get up at a decent time and knock it all out.

It’s cute that you think so.

Especially since you’ve run yourself ragged all week, falling into bed completely knackered that you’re snoring in your sleep.

What you need is some rest, not an early morning full of activity. It’s the weekend. You belong on the porch with a blanket and book. With you in his lap, using him as a bed.

John finishes his tea and rinses out the mug, placing it in the dishwasher. He’ll make himself another once he wakes the children. Slipping into the bedroom, John goes for your alarm clock, turning it off. You deserve to sleep in. John can handle the work while you have some peace.

The littles won’t bother you. He’ll make sure you get some needed rest.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Can you try this?”

Johnny comes around the kitchen island, leaning against the countertop as you scoop up some of the fluffy whipped cream. You present the spoon, an eager excitement glittering in your gaze.

Johnny opens his mouth, allowing you to guide the spoon inside. The tips of your fingers gently brush the underside of his chin. Closing his lips around it, you drag the spoon out slowly. The whipped cream melts on his tongue. It’s perfectly sweet.

“How is it?” you ask. “I’m a little worried it’s too sweet. Might overpower the lemon curd.”

“It’s perfect,” he purrs.

“Really?”

Johnny scrapes a bit of whipped cream off the top of the mixing bowl. Popping his finger into his mouth, Johnny sighs with contentment. Your smile grows, and Johnny can’t help but adore just how beautiful you are like this. It’s his favorite version of you.

As you reach for the lemon curd, Johnny grabs your hips, pulling you against him. A small giggle escapes you and Johnny loves the sound. Lowering his head, he teases the tip of your nose with his own until you’re flustered and wiggling. Only then does he close the distance for a kiss.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

It’s a Sunday afternoon. You and Simon have nothing to do. Nowhere to go. Peace and rest and simple pleasures only.

You’re snuggled up on the sofa, sinking against the cushions with a book in your hand. On the television, a trashy reality show plays at low volume. You’re not watching it, but it’s not for you.

Simon is curled up next to you, sprawled out and using your thigh as a pillow. A blanket is draped over him and covering your legs. He has one arm tucked behind your back and the other is resting across you, his large hand gently massaging the thigh he’s not resting his head on.

He’s watching the television, but his eyelids are heavy, chest moving in slow, shallow breaths. Sleep is creeping up on him.

Reaching out with one hand, you thread your fingers through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. Simon sighs, snuggling a bit closer. Switching from his scalp, you move to his neck, and then his upper back, using your nails to tease his skin. You keep a languid place, moving back and forth across his skin.

There’s nothing better than this quiet moment with your husband. Shared. Simple. Perfect.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Do you want some music?”

“I’d love that.”

Kyle walks over to the record player, fingers skimming over the collection of vinyl records. He reaches out to select one, and pauses.

“Just pick something,” you laugh, grabbing the dish soap.

“I will,” he chuckles softly, drumming his fingers against his bottom lip as he decides on which.

You roll your eyes, putting the stopper in the skin.

“Here we are,” says Kyle. As you start filling the sink with hot water, a jazzy number fills the room. Kyle grooves over to the vacuum, and you realize you’re grinning. Bopping his head and shaking his shoulders, Kyle switches on the hoover.

It’s routine then, the two of you moving around each other as you do your weekly cleaning. When you start dusting the ceiling fan, Kyle creeps up on you, hands falling on your waist.

“What?” you laugh, turning toward him, only to laugh harder as Kyle starts dancing up on you. “Stop,” you snort, playfully smacking at him.

“Dance with me,” he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows. Kyle offers you his hand, and you take it, the two of you coming together into a slow sway that makes you tingle everywhere.

[coffee-and-geto]

THE SPACE YOU LEFT BEHIND - SATORU GOJO

“Will you stay with me?” It’s like a wish waiting to be granted. “Forever.”

pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer! reader

summary: indeed, after suguru has defected, you’ve been trying to heal yourself and to not loose your mind. but healing ourselves is always harder than helping others, isn’t it? but don’t forget the goal of a sorcerer: protect humans at the risk of your life. and sometimes, death is closer that we think it is.

warnings: heavy angst, injuries, mention of death, blood, depression, eating disorder, pinning, mention of vomit, mention of cigarettes, mei mei, nanami & shoko make and appearance, mention of yaga & suguru, the lion king movie mentionned, jujutsu sorcerers’ life sucks, the story takes shape after suguru's defection, bittersweet/happy ending.

wc: 5,039

When you committed to the world of exorcism after middle school, you hadn’t realized just how much you had underestimated the darker sides of this life, where exorcists dedicate their lives to protecting humans — the primary source of the curses’ existence.

Suguru was right, wasn’t he?

It’s because of them that your classmates died. It’s also their fault that your best friend deserted school after massacring an entire village during a mission.

That put an end to all the memories you cherished so dearly, kept, and illustrated in a diary.

Sunny afternoons after class, eating ice cream with your friends Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. The setting sun signaling the end of a fulfilling day, leading into sleepless nights of sleepovers, where Satoru brought piles of sweets ready to infest your mouths with cavities as Suguru told scary stories about his hometown.

Or shopping days with Shoko, dragging the two boys along to test makeup products on them — the ones you’d never buy considering their outrageous prices.

Or those dangerous missions where you hunted curses, tracking them down to uphold your values: protecting the weak to maintain order and peace.

Such a beautiful motto, isn’t it?

A motto meant to help you, guide you, and support you so you wouldn’t lose sight of your goals.

So why did it fail so much that your once-beloved diary now sits open on your desk, collecting dust since the last time you opened it — not to add a new memory, but rather to look at the last ones you wrote.

Suguru’s departure left a void far more significant and meaningful than you had expected, didn’t it?

Life feels duller. The sky no longer seems as sunny — replaced by a grayish one, heavy with dark clouds threatening storms that mirror your emotions. If you had no tears left to cry, the rain would suffice to push you into your room after classes and missions, both as exhausting as your mind, consumed by draining thoughts.

The silence left by Suguru’s absence is far louder than all the times you screamed into his voicemail after he stopped responding to you. Of course, eventually, you gave up. Not out of choice.

Simply because he had blocked you.

And when changing SIM cards proved futile, you quickly realized through the automatic response that the number you sought was no longer in service.

It felt like all your regrets had come crashing down at once. But in truth, they had only arrived right on time.

If you had helped Suguru the way he needed, he wouldn’t have left. 

He wouldn’t have been condemned.

You wouldn’t have stopped eating, stopped living your life the way you were told you should, or started losing your friends one by one.

Suguru was the first.

Shoko isn’t the second. The brunette seems to hold up much better — although the number of cigarettes she smokes daily has doubled — she doesn’t withdraw into herself the way you do. So, you’re sure you won’t lose her... right?

And as for Satoru… Will he be the next to leave, one way or another?

Or will it be you?

Either way, you’re losing yourselves. It’s been a while since you stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you last saw Satoru after Suguru’s departure.

Mr. Yaga confirmed that he hadn’t assigned him a single mission — the situation critical, delicate, and as fragile as a flower filled with poison that could make The Strongest falter at the slightest misstep or careless move.

He could very well be dead, and no one would know.

“So… you haven’t heard from him either?” Nanami murmurs, his deep, low voice almost swallowed by the muddy ground and heavy rain that poured as much as your overwhelmed mind.

You shake your head. “Not a single sign of life,” you mumble with the tip of your lips.

The two of you are on your way back to the school after a long mission assigned by your teacher, Yaga. It took you the entire day, but at least your mind feels lighter, despite the constant fatigue weighing on your shoulders like the weight of the world.

As the rain falls harder on you both, Nanami takes the initiative to open his black umbrella, holding it over your head as you stare at your mud-stained shoes.

“Almost three weeks.”

Your friend’s voice sounds distant, like hearing someone underwater.

Your head jerks up. “Hmm?”

“He hasn’t been out in almost three weeks,” Nanami repeats, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The crunching of your shoes and his on the gravel fills the silence before he continues. “Yaga gave him some time, but it’s getting harder to assign missions to others who are on Satoru’s level, you know.”

You don’t react to his words. Of course, he’s right.

Just as he’s wrong.

While Satoru’s behavior of shutting himself away without contact for so long isn’t responsible, his reasons remain entirely valid.

He just lost someone dear to him.

So, can you blame him?

But perhaps it’s time to bring your friend back, even if it means risking losing him — and yourself — in the process.

~~~~

You knock three times on Satoru’s dorm door.

A dead silence answers you.

You try again.

The same response.

So, you try the handle, testing whether it’s locked. However, it gives way under your hand, and a moment later, you step through the doorway into an unrecognizable environment.

Indeed, your best friend’s room — usually adorned with decorations and elements that so vividly reflected Satoru’s lively personality — is now unrecognizable. The windows, typically allowing sunlight to flood in and brighten the room, now shroud it in an ominous darkness. On the floor, clothes, likely dirty, are scattered at your feet. Satoru’s desk is covered in a visible layer of dust despite the dim light. And finally, on the bed you’ve always known, rests a long shape wrapped in thick blankets.

With his back turned to you, Satoru seems to be asleep from where you stand, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Even when you call his name, he doesn’t show any sign of awareness.

So, you close the door and kneel by the side of his bed.

“Satoru?” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on a shoulder covered by your friend’s indigo comforter.

The slight shiver running through him proves he’s very much awake.

But was his mind equally present?

“Satoru, were you sleeping?” you ask, shaking him carefully.

He doesn’t respond, not even with a gesture.

Your throat tightens in the face of a situation you’ve never had to face with him before.

How do you help someone who’s in the same situation as you?

In fact, it’s even worse.

Satoru is Suguru’s other half. Their symbiotic relationship always stopped you from seeing further with Satoru, leaving you questioning what he truly felt for Suguru. Because deep down, you knew you didn’t stand a chance. You’d never hold a place as important as Suguru’s in Satoru’s heart.

So, you chose to fill the void in your heart with love for him. It’s far from enough, but you’d rather not dwell on it. Unrequited love always ends this way, doesn’t it?

You straighten up just enough to lie down on the small remaining space on Satoru’s bed, carefully rubbing your friend’s arm to avoid startling him while offering the overflow of affection that aches to be reciprocated but, for now, can only warm the albino.

You don’t dare complain about the stale smell in the room, prioritizing Satoru’s comfort above all else. You drape your arm around him as he breathes in and out with a shaky rhythm, ignoring the cold of the room that freezes you just as much as the rain from earlier did.

Perhaps half an hour passes. 

Maybe an hour. 

Or more. 

Or even just ten minutes.

The oppressive silence of the room quickly catches up to the sleep deprivation you so desperately need to cure. The cold vanishes. In the end, it doesn’t matter, right?

The only thing that matters is having Satoru in your arms, no matter what, his back pressed securely against you as your breaths synchronize, and your heartbeats merge in a way you’ve always dreamed of.

But when you flutter your eyes open, the absence of cold is quickly replaced by body warmth. Satoru’s thick comforter is draped over you, and his body is pressed against yours.

But what strikes you most is that he’s no longer facing away.

Satoru, his eyelids closed, breathes softly and slowly, the shadow of haunted dark circles staining his angelic face.

You’re about to sit up when Satoru, still without opening his eyes, slides a hand over your arm.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles.

And his raspy voice nearly gives you a heart attack.

There’s only one way for someone to have that effect.

And more than anything, the slight swelling and redness of Satoru’s pale eyelids confirm your suspicions.

Resting your head back onto the pillow, your forehead lightly brushes against Satoru’s.

“Can you look at me?” Your lips move in a near-inaudible whisper.

Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Satoru,” you insist, maintaining the same melancholic gentleness.

So you take the initiative to slowly raise your hands, bringing them toward his soft face to gently lift his eyelids. But what you see causes a crack in your heart, one akin to the shattering of ice under the raw heat of fire.

A small, wet pearl escapes from one of his eyes, deliberately rolling down his cheek, crossing his nose, and vanishing at the corner of his mouth.

Without a word, Satoru opens his eyes, and the embodiment of pain meets your distressed gaze.

His cerulean irises, usually alive with mischief, are as dark as an abyssal chasm. It’s as though a curse itself has taken hold of his gaze, condemning anyone who dares to meet his bloodshot eyes.

Your eyebrows slowly knit together, and with your heart already shattered, you decide to wrap your arms around him, pulling an unrecognizable Satoru against you as his chest releases a trembling breath and your neck grows damp from the occasional drops of warmth falling from his face.

“I’m here,” you mutter in his ear. “I’m here no matter what.”

Your eyelids close slowly, letting the tears you’d held back finally roll down your own cheeks.

Once again, perhaps ten minutes, half an hour, or even the entire afternoon passes before you finally decide to sit up, gently pulling an exhausted Satoru into your arms.

And to your surprise, he allows it.

You help him stand, supporting him with an arm around his body despite the height difference, and guide him to the bathroom. The decision had been made a while ago, even if your consciousness hadn’t fully caught up. After all, you would have wanted someone to do the same for you.

But aren’t we always better at caring for others than for ourselves?

Without protest — even though the idea of seeing Satoru naked might have made you blush last month — immersing him in the warm bath you’ve carefully prepared doesn’t feel as awkward as you’d expected. You’ve never seen him without at least his boxers, so out of respect, you avert your eyes as the poor boy settles into the hot water.

You grab a bottle of shampoo lying around in Satoru’s bathroom, squeezing out a small amount to wash his angelic hair. Despite having likely neglected his hygiene as much as you have lately, your friend is in desperate need of someone to care for him.

Satoru, his eyes still closed, seems almost asleep under your slow, gentle, and careful movements.

It looks like you’re washing a real dead man.

But perhaps part of him has been dead ever since Suguru left? Perhaps a piece of him vanished the moment Suguru was gone?

The faint hum vibrating from Satoru’s lips reassures you that he’s still conscious. You take it as a good sign that he’s relaxing. Your nails softly scratch his scalp, and he lets out a low groan of satisfaction. The foam grows thicker as you continue to massage Satoru’s head.

You rinse the shampoo from his hair with warm water, droplets trickling down his perfect face.

One of those droplets slides just below his eye, so imperceptibly that you wonder if you’d have noticed it at all if you weren’t gazing at his face with almost religious reverence.

Using a washcloth, you pick up Satoru’s body wash this time, lathering it across his skin, applying slightly more pressure to tense areas in need of a soothing massage. Soft sighs escape his nose, signaling that you can continue without bothering him.

After several massages where you pay special attention to certain spots, you fetch a robe, wrapping it around Satoru’s now-clean body. He’s like new, more ready now to hold onto a semblance of consciousness.

But one thing that strikes you is that Satoru, despite being entirely naked and in such a vulnerable state of weakness, allowed you to care for him without opening his eyes even once.

With a faint, gentle smile, you guide Satoru back to his room, grabbing some clean, comfortable clothes for him while he collapses onto his bed under the weight of the world on his shoulders. You help him into each piece of clothing, his body too weak to move as usual, almost lifeless. Then, you lead him to your room, crossing the school’s corridors so he can rest in the clean and organized space you’ve managed to create after pulling yourself together following your own depressive episode of endless, self-destructive days.

Your room is a true haven — tidy, clean, and orderly.

And so your freshly made bed with its crisp sheets seems to call to Satoru. The softness of the mattress cradles him as you drape your immaculate comforter over him.

Like laying a deceased loved one to rest in their coffin, Satoru keeps his eyes closed, his face void of expression, yet with a weariness that seems to have lifted ever so slightly.

~~~~

“How long?”

“I already told you.”

“Liar.”

Satoru pushes the food tray toward you, the arm of the mechanical table brushing against your torso. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

You sigh, the exhaustion of the past few days weighing on you like a heavy, unpleasant rain.

“First of all, you just got back from a mission where you were inches from dying if Shoko hadn’t been there. Second, you refuse to tell me how long it’s been since you’ve eaten — unless it’s been a month — and now you’re saying you’re not hungry?”

Satoru, lying under the pristine white sheets of his infirmary bed, simply turns his head away. It’s as if he’s acting like a machine. 

Mechanical movements, curt responses, and barely any signs of life.

During one of the recent missions assigned to him by Principal Yaga after weeks of absence, Satoru resumed his routine. He sleeps, does his missions, and returns to sleep in his room. Ever since you took the time to clean and organize his room, you haven’t exchanged more than a sentence. The only memory that still haunts you is the blood-red hue of Satoru’s eyes that night in his room.

The void left by Suguru has wreaked havoc.

And while you’ve managed to patch yourself up — or so you think — you’re now trying to help your friend in need. But how do you help someone who refuses to speak?

“And ‘I don’t know’ isn’t an answer,” you add in the face of his silence, rubbing your face, which feels warmer than usual. Perhaps it’s the heat of the room? December is a month where illness comes quickly. But it’s nothing, you reassure yourself.

“You’re flushed.”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

Both of you avert your gaze, equally annoyed and concerned with one another.

“When was the last time you even slept? You spend more time watching over my sleep and my meals than looking at yourself in a mirror. You look like a Halloween costume.”

Ouch.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror near the nurse’s desk, and despite Satoru’s harsh words, your state seems even worse than his.

You’ve lost weight lately. The dark hollows under your eyes mirror your grueling schedule, where you spend most of your day juggling missions, watching over Satoru, and helping the school with any task.

Like an escape, you’ve found any excuse to avoid being alone. Especially with yourself.

But isn’t that exactly what Suguru did? The poor guy had no one to talk to, and the one time he tried, you thought he was just exhausted from swallowing curses. That was when he broke down and sobbed in front of you.

The memory alone stings your eyes. And unfortunately for you, you’re not in any shape to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You stand abruptly, turning your head away to avoid showing the cracks in your courageous facade to your best friend.

“Eat. I have a mission in half an hour. I’ll be back tonight.”

As you slip out of the infirmary, Satoru painfully sit up in his bed, opening his mouth to call after you, to say something. Anything. His words were harsh and cruel, while you’ve been patient with him, caring for him more than for yourself.

But he hates it.

Because you only remind him of what Suguru used to do. When he felt terrible, Suguru helped him despite his own pain, despite wanting to vomit up the curses he’d consumed or even die. Suguru cared about his appetite, just as you do now with Satoru. The same with his sleep, his recklessness during missions.

So he doesn’t want to lose you, at the risk of dying a second time.

~~~~

That same evening, you don’t return.

And Satoru notices immediately, because at bedtime, around 10 PM, you usually stop by his room — even more so now that he’s in the infirmary.

Missions take time. So Satoru reassures himself, thinking that you simply took longer and that by the next morning, you’d be by his side to check on him. He would apologize. He’d ask for forgiveness and try to understand the reason behind the instability in your voice before you left earlier.

Did he hurt you that much?

His train of thought is interrupted by urgent voices barking orders, and Shoko putting on her apprentice doctor’s coat as she grabs a spell manual on her way out, meeting Satoru’s confused gaze.

And he understands immediately who it’s about.

Despite his still weakened state and his inability to perform Reverse Curse Technique for some time now, Satoru pulls on his exorcist uniform, leaving his sunglasses on the bedside table, and follows Shoko and the team of medics heading toward a school car. But he swiftly grabs Shoko’s wrist.

If something happened to you, taking a stupid car would only lead to a certain death.

With a gaze as panicked as it is void, Satoru questions his friend.

“Mei Mei went to check on what happened,” Shoko murmurs gravely. “The mission was simple. She should’ve been back over five hours ago.” She points to the time on her watch.

1:20 AM.

Did he fall asleep while lost in thought? How had so much time passed since he noticed your absence earlier that night?

“And you think taking more time in this car is enough?” Satoru spits his words, his voice low but echoing nonetheless into the snowy night as flurries begin to fall around them. “Just tell me you want her dead now, then.”

Shoko glances at the waiting car.

“Then what do you suggest?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, scrutinizing her friend from head to toe before yanking her wrist back sharply. “Look at you. You can barely stand.”

“I can still teleport. You’re far more competent than these clowns,” Satoru replies in the same tone, grabbing her wrist again. “And let me remind you, we cannot lose her.” The warning in his voice sounds like a threat.

It’s only when Shoko finally relents that Satoru teleports them both after she gives him the location where Mei Mei last reported finding you. The pressure of the spell makes them feel like they’re being sucked through a narrow tube, or squeezed in a vice. When they finally arrive at your location, it’s with a pop sound, like a bubble bursting free.

Releasing Shoko’s wrist the very second they arrive, Satoru scans the surroundings — then freezes.

Mei Mei’s blue hair is bent over a body on the ground. In the dim light of the night, only the moon’s rays illuminate a pool resembling wine.

And Satoru would’ve prayed for it to be only wine.

He and Shoko rush toward Mei Mei, who steps aside to face them with a furrowed brow, her expression a foreboding omen.

“Internal bleeding,” she announces to Shoko.

The words ring like a gong in Satoru’s ears, now buzzing. His paralyzed body stands mere inches from you. Your half-closed eyes stare blankly into the void, your arms lying limply at your sides, and a streak of dried blood stains your cheek. Despite the presence of your friends, you don’t react.

Not even when Satoru says your name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And as many times as it takes before Shoko and Mei Mei push him back, as he struggles to try to hold you in his arms, his hoarse voice cracking, begging you not to leave him.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Satoru Gojo, whose senses granted by his Six Eyes had long been dulled, awakens once again.

He hears your heart beating faintly. The pulse of your arteries, the successive waves of blood pushed by your struggling heart. Your shallow breaths slipping through damaged lungs. The warmth of your blood slowly leaking life away.

Please, no…

As long as it took for Satoru to recover a fraction of his powers, the same amount of time seems to pass while Shoko works quickly to stop your hemorrhaging.

He knows because he no longer hears the blood flowing out of your body. Your pulse has slowed, and though still weak, your heart beats with slightly more determination.

That determination, Satoru perceives as a flame.

A flame you refuse to let extinguish, because he knows you’re fighting not to pass on.

And if you no longer have the strength, Satoru will be the lighter forcing you to keep fighting. He will stay by your side as long as you need him.

And he will refuse to die a second time — unless it’s for you.

~~~~

A few days later.

The roles have reversed.

Satoru, fully recovered from his mission for a while now, devotes all his time to your care. He’s moved his belongings to the infirmary, where you remain recuperating. He insisted on pushing a bed right up against yours to monitor your sleep, your eating habits, and your overall well-being. 

Every movement you make is instantly picked up by his Six Eyes.

Your survival after your mission was nothing short of a miracle for Satoru.

A prayer he made — and one that was answered.

“You tired?” he asks softly, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His cerulean eyes linger on your still-fresh bandages, and a bitter pang squeezes at his heart.

You shake your head despite the telltale dark circles under your eyes. “I’m feeling better.”

“Bored?” he guesses then, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone tinged with amusement. Is he planning something?

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Got something in mind?” you reply, curiosity sparking enough to make you want to laugh genuinely.

Lying beside you in his own infirmary bed pressed against yours, Satoru gently takes your hand in his. He lifts it to chest level, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. “I could put on a movie for us if you’d like…”

“What kind of movie? If you even think about suggesting that cursed Terrifier again, I swear I’ll strang—”

Satoru bursts into laughter at your disgusted expression. His chest shakes with every sound, lifting the weight of any lingering pain in his heart.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the new The Lion King movie,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Mufasa, you mean?” Your face lights up for a moment. “But the movie has just been released,” you add, frowning slightly. “We can’t go anywhere.”

“Who said anything about going somewhere?” He wraps one long arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer just before planting a chaste kiss on your temple — a gesture that nearly makes your lungs give out.

Somehow, Satoru always manages to surprise you.

Despite the movie’s exclusive release at cinemas, half an hour later you find yourself watching it. 

Nestled against Satoru under some thicker blankets he brought, the two of you share snacks scattered across your laps. The only light in the infirmary is the soft glow of the film projector casting the movie onto a pristine wall.

Your cheek rests against Satoru’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat serving as the perfect lullaby to lull you to sleep. On top of that, his long fingers gently scratch your scalp, soothing you further into relaxation.

The moment feels so perfect you almost mistake it for a dream — but no.

Right now, it’s as if the depressive haze that had weighed down both you and Satoru has been blown away, replaced by a fleeting moment of happiness wrapped in the cocoon of this night.

Just like your feelings, the situation between you and Satoru is undefined and confusing. A shared closeness restored, mutual personal care, and a clear attachment to each other.

It seems like friendship, doesn’t it?

But then, why does your hand, resting on your friend’s chest, tremble at the thought of sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer—close enough for your lips to finally meet his?

Feeling your trembling hand, Satoru shifts his attention away from the movie to look down at you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes meet his, drowning in the deep ocean of blue they hold.

With every passing second, you try to speak, to respond, to confess everything. To tell him everything. Yet, with your lips parted, all you can manage is a soft whisper:

“Nothing.”

~~~~

December 25th.

All of Tokyo Jujutsu High has gathered amidst the scents of warm food, the laughter of groups of friends, the unwrapping of gifts, and the feeling of family.

Yet, Satoru feels like something is missing.

This December 25th marks the first Christmas you, Shoko, and Satoru spend without Suguru.

So what’s the point of celebrating? What is Suguru doing right now? Is he spending such a special day all alone?

Alone, outside the school’s festive hall, Satoru stands bundled in a winter coat, snow as white as his hair delicately falling onto his frame. He’s leaning against a wall, as if that simple act could help him stay upright.

His throat tightens.

He wants Suguru back.

But he knows all too well that he won’t have him.

So Satoru doesn’t celebrate Christmas when the one source of his joy has vanished.

Inside the hall, you’re laughing wholeheartedly with a few friends, a glass of champagne in hand and a large scarf draped over your shoulders for warmth.

But amidst the small crowd, the one person who holds your heart is nowhere to be found.

Your smile slowly fades as your eyes frantically scan the room for Satoru. You excuse yourself hastily and begin to search — the hall, the restroom — before finally heading toward the door to the courtyard.

Almost sprinting, you step out into the biting December cold.

And there he is.

With measured steps, you move to stand beside him. He doesn’t budge, even as you gently wipe the dried tears from his face while he sniffles absentmindedly, his nose reddened by the sharp chill.

“Do you believe that he’s thinking of us right now?” Satoru murmurs, his voice rough and low.

“I’m sure of it,” you whisper softly in reply, pulling a tissue from your pocket and holding it to his nose so he can blow. A faint smile tugs at your lips as he thanks you with one last sniffle.

You’re about to put the tissue away when Satoru abruptly but tenderly pulls you into his arms, pressing you firmly against him.

“Satoru?” Your eyes search his, confused, as he leans his face as close to yours as possible, nearly sending your heart into overdrive when his long, slender nose brushes against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his tone carrying a small smile.

Those three little words leave you speechless, your lips parted in shock at the confession and the sincerity behind it.

It’s as if your entire being comes alive again, breaking free.

After so long without crying, it only takes those words to bring tears back to the surface. Salty streams trail down your cheeks as your face twists, trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you too,” you cry, your voice trembling all the same.

Satoru, his own smile tinged with fragility, wipes your face just as you did for him. His thumbs gently rub your cheeks in a bittersweet comfort.

And in a synchronized motion, your lips connect, pressing against each other with an intensity that makes your souls whirl like the wind does with the falling snow.

Every time your lips part to end a kiss or catch your breath, you find each other again in the next second, as if eternity had tried to keep you apart. The cold ceases to exist around you; the warmth of your finally united souls is enough to melt the ice that had formed within you since Suguru’s departure.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss to catch your breath, your eyes no longer shining with tears, but with love this time.

Neither of you pulls away from the closeness you share. Your bodies speak for you, the silence between you filled with mutual understanding.

Satoru clears his throat. “Will you stay with me?”

It’s like a wish waiting to be granted.

“Forever.”

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy

a/n: hello everyone :)) this fic was special to write tbh. it’s the one that came out of an episode of impostor syndrome where i just wrote without thinking. i’d been wanting to write angst about satoru for a loooong time, so here it is :) (why do i secretly hope i’ve made all of you cry?). anyway, we can finally breathe after big exams! i’ve never looked forward to the christmas vacations as much as this year, lmao. take care of your little faces <3

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3

[ghcstao3]

bringing ghost home to a family gathering has soap worried only because there’ll be an abundance of niblings, and he has no idea how ghost is with kids.

and, well. it doesn’t necessarily go good or bad, more just… unexpectedly. soap notes a few things.

babies are a no-go for ghost. too small, too fragile, too sticky. those are something for someone else to deal with.

toddlers he can manage just fine, still too sticky. it’s funny, watching ghost talk to them like adults as he’s handed toys and forced to play pretend, sipping from an empty tea cup and mimicking biting into plastic food.

everything up to pre-teen is no sweat for ghost. they haven’t yet adopted the usual anti-adult teen attitude, so it’s easy enough to entertain them and answer questions because hey, ghost is knowledgeable, and he might as well share. he’ll let the kids ramble on about their interests and primary school drama, listening intently like he does whenever soap’s on a tangent.

as for the teens, soap isn’t surprised ghost gets along with them. for all his stoicism, the man is a terrible gossip, and he can certainly hold his own against (mostly) lighthearted insults with his quick wit any day of the week. those interactions are probably the most entertaining for soap, listening to ghost dole out advice to teenage girls as if he’s some guru in dumping boyfriends and dropping fake friends.

so, overall, safe to say that the niblings need not be of concern. adults on the other hand, well. that’s another story entirely.

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 2

Summary: Your rivalry with Remus continues as you spend a night out with his friends at Sirius’ concert.

CW: Alcohol Consumption, mentions of vomit (briefly), references to sex.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x reader

Chapter 1

—

A few days later and you were finally settling into your new home. And as far as roommates go, the boys were pretty good ones.

James was usually out early in the morning at the gym or Rugby training and he’d often return with coffees for everyone. Sirius was a natural born entertainer and always had a joke or a silly anecdote to amuse you with when you returned home from work.

It was just Remus that hadn’t warmed up to you, however, you had no idea why. You’d done everything you could think of to win him over. You cleaned up the kitchen for him before he got home from his lectures, you left extra for him when cooking dinner, you even offered to do his laundry when he was too busy studying for upcoming exams. But still, nothing. No matter what you did, you were greeted with a cold disinterest and one word answers.

By the time the weekend rolled around, you were exhausted, both from him and your long week at work. You were hugely looking forward to Sirius’ show. You figured it’d be the perfect way to unwind.

—

You were squashed into a booth next to James and a girl named Dorcas, twirling your straw in your hand.

The bar was full, thick with energy and cigarette smoke. It was dimly lit, some dive down a back alley. Apparently Sirius and his band played here every Saturday night.

“So y/n! Mary tells me you want to be a writer!” Lily called across the table, barely audible over the clattering of glasses and loud talking that filled the room

“Yeah, it’s something I’m working towards,” you replied. “Although I’ve been working on my novel for a couple of years now but it’s still not quite there yet.”

“Oh cool!” Peter chimed in. He was sitting beside his girlfriend Sybil, a hand around hers under the table. They looked positively smitten with each other. It reminded you of how glaringly single you were.

“What’s your book about?” Dorcas asked.

You sighed. “I guess you could call it a fantasy.”

“Oh is it one of those ones about wizards and magic and stuff?” James pondered enthusiastically.

“I mean, kind of? Not really.” You replied.

“Oh good,” Dorcas mused. “I don’t really like those kinds of stories. I’ve always found them to be a bit childish. I mean, the idea of wizards living amongst us? it’s a bit absurd if you ask me.”

You giggled. “Yes well, I’d say mine is more of a high fantasy. Anyway, enough about me. What do you all do for work?”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Well, I’m a primary school teacher.” Lily offered.

“Oh wow. And how do enjoy that?”

She giggled, her dimples appearing as she did. You had to admit, she was stunningly beautiful, with long auburn hair and astonishing sea-foam eyes. You understood why James had been pining after her for so long.

“I love it,” she responded. “It’s wonderful knowing you’re able to shape a young person’s life.”

“That sounds really rewarding,” you responded.

“It is,” she smiled. “But it’s far from impressive compared to what some of the others do. I mean, Dorcas here is a lawyer and Remus is studying to be a doctor!”

Eyes fell on Remus and you watched as he recoiled slightly under the attention.

As the conversation drew on, you learned that Peter was a Banker, Sybil read tarot cards for a living and Dorcas’ girlfriend Marlene played lead guitar in Sirius’ band.

“Just wait until you see her,” Mary exclaimed. “She’s incredible.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” You replied. You took another sip of your drink and realised you’d finished your glass. Upon looking around the table you saw that the others were in a similar position.

“Looks like I’m in need of a refill. Next round is on me guys!”

There was a slew of cheers from the group as you slid out of the booth and made your way towards the bar. You placed your order and then took a seat on a stool as you waited for the drinks to be made.

You were scrolling through instagram when you felt a presence beside you. Looking up, your heart sank slightly when you noticed it was Remus.

“I thought you could use some help carrying everything,” he muttered, taking a seat beside you.

“Thanks but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah well, I could use some space. The table was getting a little crowded.”

Your eyes raked over his figure, you saw the was he was nervously fiddling with his hands. It dawned on you that maybe the bar scene wasn’t really his thing so much as it was his friends’. He seemed to be a little overwhelmed.

“Okay,” you relented.

A few drinks were placed on a tray in front of you, and Remus reached out to grab his, taking a long sip. Your eyebrows raised.

“You’re drinking straight whisky? That’s pretty hardcore.”

“It’s referred to as a whisky neat,” he responded matter-of-factly (as if you hadn’t been the one to order it for him). “And it really isn’t that bad. I have a pretty high alcohol tolerance. Why? What did you order.”

“A gin and tonic.”

“Exactly my point.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked up at him. You could help but scoff.

“Are you implying that I can’t hold my alcohol?”

Remus shrugged, taking another sip. “I’m just saying that some people have a higher tolerance is all.”

A mix of irritation and downright anger began to build in your gut. You’d had enough of him. His coldness towards you, his constant condescending remarks. Fuck it, you thought, I’m done being nice. If he wanted to start something, then so be it.

“Fine,” you challenged. “If you’re so sure about that, £20 says that I can out-drink you tonight.”

He turned to face you, a brow quirked questioningly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just shake on it, Remus.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

You shook hands. Then you turned to the bartender.

“Excuse me, I’d like to change my order. Could I get a whisky, neat?”

—

The band came on around 10pm and the crowd cheered wildly.

Sirius was the first to enter, clad in black and leather, looking like a true rockstar.

His eyes twinkled beneath the stage lights. Even on the narrow bar stage, he managed to look ethereal.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd roared once more, you among them.

“That’s good! We’re Snakes and Lions and we have a few songs to play for you. Is that alright?”

The crowed cheered again.

As the first notes of the song trickled through the room, you couldn’t help but stare up at Sirius. His long flowing hair, the tattoos that peaked out from under his black tank top, the way his eyeliner brought out the grey of his eyes.

A glance to Remus beside you, told you he was feeling the same way. He was staring up at Sirius like he was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. And you couldn’t blame him.

Still, you felt and odd pang of jealously shoot through your gut.

You decided to push it down, instead venturing to the bar for another drink.

As the set drew on, you could feel yourself beginning to sway, not only from the music but also the alcohol in your blood.

The room began to blur in a dizzying haze and you found yourself leaning into James who stood beside you, for support.

You continued to watch Sirius perform, entranced by the way he moved around the stage, his voice baring into your very soul.

At one point, when he he introduced the band (Barty on drums, Marlene on lead guitar, Evan on rhythm guitar and his little brother Regulus on bass), he sent you a wink and you felt your heart leap in your chest. You felt like you were watching a celebrity.

Still, amidst the music, your mind continued to wander to Remus. Your bet had carried on and you continued to down drink after drink out of sheer spite.

You were determined to beat him. Determined to prove that you could hold your own, that there was a spot for you in his home, whether he liked it or not.

By the time the band finished playing, you were far past the point of no return.

—

There was a light on somewhere. It was too bright, shining directly into your eyes. You groaned and rolled over, sinking in to your mattress. You tried to go back to sleep but you couldn’t. You needed to get up and turn the light off.

As you blinked your eyes open, you realised the light wasn’t in fact coming from the ceiling but from a window.

That’s odd, you thought, I don’t remember there being a window there.

The room was blurry as you looked around. It was clearly morning, that much you could tell, and there was a throbbing pain in your head. Last night was definitely a mistake.

It was then that your gaze fell on the football paraphernalia that sat on the dresser and the framed jersey that hung above it.

You shot upwards like a bullet, your eyes widening as you glanced around the space.

This wasn’t your room. It was James'.

You gasped loudly as you looked down at yourself. Fuck! You were in your underwear.

You frantically looked around the space, searching for anything you could use to cover up. There was a black t-shirt thrown over a chair in the corner.

A sniff told you it was clean and you hastily threw it on, not caring right then that it wasn’t yours.

It didn’t cover much but it’d have to do for now.

It was at that moment the door swung open. You froze, wide eyed like a deer caught in the headlights.

James just looked you up and down for a moment, balancing a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Oh good. You’re up.”

“W-what happened last night?” You blurted out in a panic.

“You don’t remember?” The boy queried, moving to place the coffees down on the bedside table.

You shook your head.

“We didn’t… ah? You know?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that! We didn’t sleep together if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair in relief.

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

James just smirked. “Oh no, it’s much more embarrassing than that.”

You looked up at him nervously, feeling your cheeks grow hot. “Shit. What did I do?”

James moved to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, muscles in his biceps flexing as he did.

“Well, you stumbled into my room at 2:30 in the morning complaining you were bored and wanted to hang out.”

You grimaced.

“Then you collapsed in my bed and refused to leave. Which I didn’t mind, by the way. But then you decided that it was too hot and insisted on taking your clothes off. I barely stopped you from getting completely naked. You were on a mission.”

You groaned as he chuckled at the story.

“James, I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.”

“What? Mostly naked in our roommate's bed?”

He snorted. “Yeah sure. Something like that.”

He gestured towards the coffee that sat on the bedside table and you took a sip, letting the warm drink sooth your aching throat.

“I’m sure you have a hell of a hangover,” he sympathised. “Why don’t you finish your coffee and then go and have a shower while I whip up some breakfast.”

You smiled up at him gently. “James, you don’t have to-“

“Stop apologising,” he cut you off. “I’m happy to. Besides, what are roommates for if not to make you meals?”

—

It was a while before you re-emerged, having showered and now wearing clothes that were your own. You weren’t bothered to dry your hair though. You resigned to let it drip down your back.

You trudged into the living area to see that the rest of the boys had beaten you there.

James was standing in the kitchen cooking what smelt suspiciously (and deliciously) like bacon.

Sirius was lounging on the sofa, half watching a random action movie that was playing on the TV, set to low volume.

You assumed that choice was made for the benefit of Remus who looked a wreck. He was sitting at the dining table, face down with his head resting on his arms.

An evil sense of satisfaction washed over you when you realised that he was nursing a hangover just as bad as your own.

“Well!” You made sure to exclaim loudly, smacking your hands down hard on the table as you took a seat across from Remus.

He flinched and groaned as he sat up, sending you an irritable look.

“Last night was fun.”

Sirius chuckled from his across the room. “For some of us more so than others.”

“Y/n definitely had fun,” James teased as he approached the table, placing a plate of bacon and eggs before you. You slapped him playfully on the arm as he walked away.

You glanced around the room as you began to eat, your brows furrowing when you noticed something odd out of the window.

“Guys, why’s the pot plant out on the balcony?”

“I’m airing it out,” Sirius said absent-mindedly. “Remus threw up in it last night.”

A delighted smirk overtook your features. “Did he now?”

The boy just groaned, thumping his head back down onto the table.

“Here mate,” James stated, placing a plate of food down beside his head. “Eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

You had to admit, you did feel better after some food. And James was a bloody good cook.

Then, suddenly an idea flitted through your mind.

“Did anyone keep a copy of the tab from last night?”

“Yeah I’ve got it in my wallet, why?” James confirmed.

“Could I see it please?”

He placed the receipt in front of you on the table and you began to add up the drinks that you remembered yourself and Remus ordering.

“Aha!” You shouted after a moment, jumping up and walking around the table. Remus looked up at you, displeased.

“I beat you! Pay up!”

“What’s this?” Sirius questioned curiously.

“Remus bet me £20 that he could out drink me and I proved him wrong!” You exclaimed.

“Hey, don’t put this on me,” Remus muttered. “It was her idea.”

“It looks like you’ve been a bad influence on our poor Remus,” James teased.

“Yeah, he never usually drinks that much,” Sirius added.

You looked at him suspiciously. “Huh? Really? That was big game you talked last night.”

“Remus is all talk,” Sirius joked. “Deep down he’s really just a little softy.”

“Fuck off, all of you,” the boy groaned.

“Not until I get my £20!”

James barked out a laugh.

“Come on buddy,” he stated in Remus’ direction. “You heard the girl, pay up!”

—

Taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy

@navs-bhat

@shushbruv

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Any advice for figuring out how to work on writing characters arguing?

I’m just curious and also I mistakenly derailed part of my writing over struggling to write a scene of characters starting an argument that was meant to escalate.

Writing Notes: Arguments

Arguing is full of tension.

Even benign conversations between friends so often belies subtextual personal agendas that are antagonistic or covertly full of anger or upset.

Honesty itself sometimes is the product of extreme tension and upset.

One’s resistance to telling the truth to another or admitting to oneself a truth can be excruciatingly tense and stressful, even between lovers.

SIDESTEPPING

You instantly create conflict in dialogue when you avoid “on the nose” responses.

On the nose means a direct response, sometimes even echoing the previous line.

You can avoid direct response:

With a statement that is unrelated to the prompting dialogue

By answering a question with a question

With a line of dialogue that is going to need some explanation

Also consider using silence:

“Are you ready to go, dear?” Bob asked. Sylvia said nothing.

Or use an action response:

“Are you ready to go, dear?” Bob asked. Sylvia picked up the mirror.

OPPOSING AGENDAS

Always know what each character wants in a given scene.

If a character in a scene is just taking up space, give him an agenda or get him out of there. Or cut the scene entirely.

Scenes require conflict or tension, even if it’s subtle.

Before you write the scene, note what each character wants.

Then spend a few moments playing with those motivations.

List 3 other possible motives for each of the characters, then mix and match to decide which ones will make for the best conflict.

It is also important to create tension among allies.

One of the danger points in fiction is when two friends, or people who are at least on the same side, have a talk about what’s going on. The trouble is there might not be any trouble between them. So much of the dialogue becomes a friendly chat.

This will violate Alfred Hitchcock’s axiom (Hitchcock once said that a good story is “life, with the dull parts taken out.”).

The fastest way to handle it is to make sure there is tension manifested from the start.

Create tension in at least one of the characters, preferably the viewpoint character.

Example: When you have Allison meeting Melissa, her college friend, for coffee, don’t have them sit down and start talking as if nothing’s wrong in the world. Put the trouble of the story into Allison’s mind and nervous system and make it an impediment to her conversation with Melissa. In Melissa, place something that might be in opposition to Allison’s needs. Allison needs to ask Melissa’s advice about a crumbling marriage. Maybe Melissa is full of news about her sister’s impending wedding to a wonderful man and gushes about the prospects.

Spend some time brainstorming about the ways two friends or allies can be at odds. Then weave those things into the dialogue.

DIALOGUE AS WEAPON

Look for places where you can use dialogue as a weapon, a means for your characters to charge ahead in order to get what they want.

Keep in mind that dialogue is action.

It’s a physical act used by characters to help them get what they want. If they don’t want anything in a scene, they shouldn’t be there.

Note that not all weapons are explosive. They can be small and sharp, too.

PARENT-ADULT-CHILD

A great tool for creating instant conflict in dialogue is the Parent-Adult-Child model, popularized in the book Games People Play by Eric Berne (1964). This school of psychology is called Transactional Analysis.

The theory holds that we tend to occupy roles in life and relationships.

The 3 primary roles are Parent, Adult, and Child (PAC):

The Parent - the seat of authority, the one who can “lay down the law.” S/he has the raw strength, from position or otherwise, to rule and then enforce his/her rulings.

The Adult - the objective one, the one who sees things rationally and is therefore the best one to analyze a situation. “Let’s be adult about this,” one might say in the midst of an argument.

The Child - not rational, and not with any real power. So what does s/he do? Reacts emotionally. Throws tantrums to try to get his/her way. Even an adult can do this. We’ve all seen clandestine videos that prove this point.

So it is a helpful thing to consider what role each character is assuming in a scene.

How do they see themselves? What is their actual role? (It may indeed be different than what they perceive it to be.)

Most important, how will they act in order to accomplish their goal in the scene?

Answering these questions can give you a way to shape your dialogue so there is constant tension and conflict throughout.

Also consider that the characters might change their roles (try something new) in order to get their way. Thus, this is a never-ending source of conflict possibilities and only takes a few moments to set up.

TIP ON DIALOGUE

Look at all of your dialogue exchanges, especially ones that run for a page or more.

Analyze what roles the characters think they’re inhabiting.

Rework the dialogue by getting each character to be more assertive in their claimed role. (Also note that a character can change roles as a matter of strategy. For example, if the Parent isn’t working, a character might switch to pouting like a Child in order to get his way.)

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Hope this helps with your writing!

[misssilversunny]

Ok so I've been on a bit of a Yandere batfam binge tbh. One thing I saw was someone saying that there should be a yandere batfam that's too interested in Reader's life, as opposed to the multitude of neglected Readers.

I would like to build on that and say, a Spoiled!Reader. Maybe around grade school age for some of the story, the rest being them as an adult realizing that their family's "interest" in every aspect of their life was nowhere near healthy. Or it could be a crack fic where Reader is guarded like the president of the world.

For example, as a child, they applied themselves to everything, wanting to be as smart as their older siblings, and followed Alfred around all the time when they found out that he was a spy in his early days.

Every award was put on a shelf, every drawing was fridge worthy, to the point where they got a corkboard to put all their drawings, and whenever they wanted something, they got it. Bullies never got more than a week of fun before an injury befell their parents or some other misfortune. Bruce was almost constantly seen with them.

Timeskip to maybe their 20s, they're trying to hold down a long term relationship after so many ended up with their partners becoming distant before either they broke things off or Reader left them. Every batchild is using their own connections to try and keep possible suitors away.

Reader laments their lack of freedom and privacy to their friends, leading to the common "Tells people about a funny memory. Why are they looking at me like that"

Apparently, while it's normal for a brother to offer if their younger sibling has noone to take to the dance, saying that they should go instead of a proper date is not. Family members should not be dressing you like a doll past age 6 (The girls + Alfred + Dick all love putting outfits together for reader, saying that they're just made to be dressed up.).

Your parents shouldn't be physically intimidating and scaring off every partner, and definitely shouldn't be saying that you shouldn't look for a partner as long as you have them. Your family shouldn't "joke" about how friends are fine since "they're seldom as permanent as family".

Reader slowly realizes that they need to get out, fast. But instead of it being a struggle for the Batfam to find them because they know next to nothing, it's a fight to do something they couldn't predict because they've all been watching them like hawks since they set foot inside the manor.

Most, if not all of their friends outside of the group that convinced them to run are friends with at least one family member, so 60-90% of their social net has been gutted. They can't use their legal name while they live in Gotham, but they need a job to get the money to leave.

I think Damien being the biggest yandere would be really funny, especially if you read it like Lance Crown is with his sister. Bro has multiple lockets with photos of them throughout the years in them, as well as a photo for every single birthday he was present for.

In Damien's eyes, Reader's primary title is "Damien's Little Sibling" and is willing to deal with the shared titles that must come with that (Dick's Little Sibling, Bruce's Child, Alfred's Ward, etc). If you want to have the honor of bestowing Another Title upon Reader, Damien has to give the go ahead first. He will never give the go ahead.

Jason would also be super protective, since he was around when they were still learning to talk and walk. He comes into the living room and Alfred's got Reader on a blanket with some toys and upon seeing him, Reader wobbles to their feet and stumbles over to him, squealing in delight and almost falling over before grabbing onto his leg and smiling up at him.

It was at that moment, the Reader fan club was truly established. Bruce would be the leader since he was the dad, but Damien was second in command and manages the collections of information/photos.

AN: I have no clue about the lore/timeline the Batfamily has. If something mentioned couldn't have happened during a certain point of time, then I'm sorry lol.

[celestie0]

I actually kinda like the accidental pregnancy trope idk just two characters learning to coparent and then eventually falling in love is kinda cute 🥹 I’d love to see what you write for gojo I feel like he’d be scared but end being such an amazing dad

gojo x reader | accidental pregnancy trope [drabble]

little miracle. a gojo x reader story

a/n. ok anon i basically started answering this ask very minimally but i couldn't stop myself from writing and it basically became an entire story so enjoy i guess?? LOL my bad <3 warnings/tags. domestic fluff, angst, mentions of sick parent, mentions of death, pregnancy symptoms. there is happy ending!! word count. 2.2k

gojo and you are in your mid twenties but you're both just barely getting by, you're a new writer living in a tiny apartment in a big city and gojo is the cute waiter at your favorite diner who's just saving up some money because he wants to go back to school and you're both kindaaa crushing on each other, flirting w one another. the restaurant gojo works at ends up starting meal delivery option, and you order some pizza to your apartment just so that you can see him on a weekday and he's soooo super cheeky with it leaning in the doorframe entryway of your apartment with the pizza in his hand like "it says here someone ordered a hot guy in some super sexy black jeans, well he's here now" and you're like "you're such a fuckin idiot" and you abandon said pizza to fuck him on your facebook marketplace couch.

fast forward the next day n you wake up, but he's not there anymore. he left you a little note that says he's going away for a month since his mom is sick and he needs to be w her. you're confused by the note, and you wish he left his phone number because you realize you have no way of contacting him. but that's ok, he'll be back soon, right?

in the couple weeks following the night you both hooked up, you're feeling like shit in the mornings, nauseous, you realize you've missed your period but you shrug it off because it was never really normal anyways. but one morning you throw up, confused as hell, wondering if you got food poisoning. but as you swing your legs back and forth in your paper gown, sitting high up on your primary care doctor's examination room bed, they tell you that you're pregnant and you act like you've never even heard the word before.

there's no doubt gojo is the father, you haven't slept w anyone except him in months. and a baby was just...you can barely afford to pay your bills, you're already living paycheck to paycheck since your book isn't even out yet and you're just surviving w the advance from your old job. what the hell were you going to do? and you can't even tell him that you're pregnant, because he's god knows where, stranding you with no phone number to contact him and you feel so left behind and alone.

the first person he comes to see when he gets back into the city is you. he looks tired, probably from his travels, or possibly from what he saw back home w his mom laying sick in bed. but he's still so happy to see you, and he kisses you and tells you he missed you and you stop him to tell him that you need to talk. for him, there was life before you told him you were pregnant, and then there was life after. and now he was living in the after. standing still in the tiny living room of your apartment when you tell him he's the father, and the words that leave your mouth afterwards are drowned out in his head because he can only focus on that one thought at once.

father. he's going to be a father? whatever heaviness he finds in his chest from the word is replaced with adoration when he looks at you.

keeping it, was what you had told him next.

it was tough at first, because of the morning sickness and the hormones and the yelling at him for not bringing you the kfc you craved so badly a minute before he did, and then the crying that follows suit when you realize you're being mean to him. but he does everything you want, everything he knows how, because he doesn't know how to be a dad, and he figures the least he can do right now is know what to do for you. and the thought scares him, to death every day. as he's driving you to your doctor's appointments, he's praying under his breath that you and baby are ok and healthy. while he's waiting tables at work, he puts on his best smile for an extra tip because it's extra money for the baby, because she isn't even here yet and he already wants to give her everything she's ever wanted.

yes, she. a baby girl. you were having a baby girl. you cried when your ob/gyn slipped and told you the gender, because you asked for it to be kept secret, but what hurt even more was that you told gojo he didn't need to come to this appointment. just a routine little check up, not a big deal. i'll just have my friend drop me off, you said. little did you know it was the one where you would find out you two were having a little girl.

oh, gojo knows nothing about girls. would it be different from raising a boy? can he play wrestle w her when she's a little older, or would he have to be gentle with her? would he learn how to make flower crowns for her with daisies from the field just to see a smile on her tiny face? how will he ever be able to deny her anything, especially if she looks just like you?

the second trimester, you two felt like a young married couple, and for once it felt like things were bright. like you two knew what you were doing. like it wasn't a mistake, but a blessing. you wanted him, desired him, and he'd never desired anything more than he desired you. it took you a while to come around to having sex again, it felt wrong, because that was what got you two into this mess in the first place. but those feelings melted away when you two moved into his little ranch together on the outskirts of town and you knew what it felt like to be hugged by him in the mornings, his sleepy voice drawling in your ear about how much more beautiful you look with every passing day. in those moments, all the regret melts away.

it all comes crashing down in third trimester. you're angry, he's tired, you're sad, he swears he's trying his best but he just can't seem to understand what you need from him. you say you wished this never happened, he says he didn't ask for any of this, and you're sobbing on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands because it all just feels like some cruel twisted joke. like a dream you should be waking up from any second from now. he sits down on the cold tile beside you, solemn in the face. he already looks so much older than the bright eyed boy he used to be, twirling a pizza box around on his finger in the doorframe of your apartment. his cheeks have sunk in, and you realize we all die someday. his hand reaches out to hold yours, and he kisses the back of it, and he says he'll never leave. not like how he left all those months ago, with nothing but a note. no matter what it comes to, one thing he can always promise you, is that he'll never leave like that ever again.

when your baby girl was born, nothing else mattered. it's like all the turmoil you faced in the past eight months was not even worth paying a moment's care towards when you cradle her in your arms. gojo had been fighting back tears the entire time, mostly provoked by how difficult childbirth had been for you as he watched feeling helpless, but the moment he held his little girl in his arms, he couldn't fight back the tears anymore. and he cried, and he cried, and he cried. few fathers could treasure their daughters as much as gojo did, and he knows it's a promise every parent makes to their child, but he vowed he'll never let anything hurt her. never let anyone upset her. for as long as he lives, he'll keep all the cruelty away from her, and keep her safe forever. you both named her yuki, for snow drifting outside of the hospital window when she opens her eyes for the first time.

you two make the tough decision that it's best for gojo to go back to school like he originally planned while you take care of the baby at home. it's hard having him away, and it's torture for him too, since he seems to breathe and live just to make yuki giggle and smile. but it's what made fiscal sense, since you knew what it was like to grow up in a household with little money to feed or fend, and the two of you wanted more than that for your daughter.

gojo's mother succumbed to the very illness that had been haunting her since he visited her for a month over a year ago, and he cried to sleep when he realized she only got to hold her granddaughter once before she passed away. and for the first time in his life, gojo learned what it really meant to be a parent, and it was only found in losing his own. there was no time to grieve in the capacity that he wanted to, because he needed to be there for you and his little girl. a year ago, he would've been broken, beaten, and bruised, but now he bleeds only in his dreams, then buries and braves the seasons for the sake of you two. as he slips his shoes off at the front door after a long day, then walks into the dark of the house, turning the corner into your shared room, he sees you humming peacefully while rocking his daughter to sleep. and he realizes his entire world is sitting in that chair.

gojo graduates from his two year engineering program, and lands a job in the city. the same city you left to go live with him when you were pregnant. it was tough to come back to the same city you fled, because all you remember of it now is morning sickness and fear of your career and falling in love with a boy that had a boyish charming smile you knew would ruin you one day. and now he's taken you back, moving the little family you've made together into a house. a house! he bought you a house. it was a little one, with no more than two bedrooms, but there was enough room in your hearts to raise your daughter with love, and that was all she'd ever need. she can walk now, mumble words. she said dada first, and gojo never stops teasing you about it. and when she finally says mama, you felt like your whole heart would burst.

he proposes to you on the waterline of the city's park, at the top of golden hour while the wind is subtle and tame but still ruffles the fabric of your dress. waiter boy, on one knee in front of you, years of waiting tables but he cannot even bare to wait one more second to hear your answer to the most important question he'll ever ask anyone in his entire life.

and you say yes. and he promises he'll love you for the rest of his life.

the wedding is small, because you two decided not to invite all of the family that had become estranged ever since you told them that you were pregnant with a man's child who you weren't even so much as dating. his family became yours after that, with his aunts and uncles congratulating you and yuki's cousins playing with her before she was to skip down the aisle as flower girl. it was sad to see your side of the church so empty, but you could never truly feel empty in this world anymore. not with what all that you've gained in the process.

there is fear in love, and in life. there was fear in gojo's heart when he learned he was going to be a father when he barely even knew right from wrong. there was fear in learning you were going to be a mother when you knew you cannot protect your child from the same hurt that has haunted you for a lifetime. but there was joy too. joy in seeing your baby bump for the first time, joy in holding your daughter in your arms for the first time, joy in seeing a sparkling stone in a tiny box presented to you on a sunday by the boy who still made your heart skip a beat just by looking at him, and there was so much joy in marrying him too.

but you find the real joy comes in the moments that you expect nothing from at all, but they happily surprise you with the feeling nonetheless. like now, as you sit on a picnic blanket at the park and you watch your husband running across fluttering grass in the wind, chasing after your daughter whose giggles and shrieks fill the summer air. he catches her, throwing her up into the air before spinning her around in his arms, and you tuck your hair behind your ear as you watch it happen. you expected nothing from anything life had given you in the past four years, and yet it gave you all the joy in the world. where you could've expected sorrow and sadness, it gave you something beautiful instead. you never would've thought that the boy you locked eyes with through a shy flutter of your lashes underneath warm restaurant lighting, the one that winked at you with no shame despite you being surrounded by all of your friends, you never could've imagined he'd be who he is to you today. but for certain, now, you believe in it. you believe in little miracles.

.

.

.

[the end]

a/n. what the flying fuck. i'm gonna go cry now lmfao.

[evielmostdefinitely]

Your writing is insanely good!! I desperately need more of jealous/possessive young!snow making it clear to reader that she’s his and only his. bc “If you ever let another man touch you, I would cut his fucking hands off on the steps of the Capitol Building for everyone to see.” floored me

jealousy, jealousy |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested above, coriolanus is jealous. briefly mentions jealous girl so tagging it here for those to read.

contains: dark, possessive, jealous coriolanus. established relationship. slight manipulation (it's coriolanus).

You were being polite, he knew that. These things were boring and you were simply finding a way to keep yourself occupied, the rational side of Coriolanus told himself that as he watched you from across the room. 

Vulcan was simply a friend, the two of you had gone to Academy together, all through primary and secondary schooling. His family was on the council, which meant your schooling would have been together. Coriolanus didn’t despise him, tolerated him, truly. He thought he was respectable and well mannered, and gave lots of funds to his cause. 

Why did he have to touch your arm like that?

Corio’s grip was so tight on his glass he was sure it would shatter between his hands, cut his palms, slice the skin and trail blood all over the white, marble floors. He had half a mind to do it, maybe that would pull your attention back to him. Have you by him doting and fussing over him, cleaning the glass out of his wounds, bandaging him up because he trusted no one but you. 

Your laugh was crystal, trilling through the air straight to his own heart. How bitter it made him that he wasn’t the one making you laugh. 

Instead, you were laughing with your school friends, Vulcan the center of your attention, entertaining you. 

“Pardon me,” Coriolanus nodded to Dr. Gaul and the others, passing his glass to an Avox. “I must go see the Mayor.” He bowed out politely, always poised, even when his belly was burning with jealous rage. 

He bypassed the Mayor, heading for you instead. “Oh,” Your friend saw you before he did. “President Snow.” She smiled, nudging you gently. 

You turned, and for a moment, Corio’s jealousy was wiped away. Your dazzling smile, eyes lighting at the sight of him. It made his own heart flutter. “Darling,” You greeted, reaching your hand out for him. “Are you finished?” 

Coriolanus could tell the champagne had taken its toll on you, loosening you more than he would have necessarily liked. He chose not to mention it, taking your hand politely, pulling you to him gently. “For now, I just have a break.” Corio muttered, eying the man in question, Vulcan, who had taken a step back. 

“Vully,” You grinned, your gaze leaving him. Corio bristled at the loss of your attention, even more at the nickname. How dare you? “You must tell Coriolanus the story. He’ll find it so amusing.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he has his own that would rival mine. He mentored the games with Lucy Gray.” Vulcan said politely. 

“No, you must tell the story.” You insisted with a grin. “Corio, Vulcan was in the games after yours, and he had to mentor the feral child from District Ten-” 

“-I hate to interrupt.” Coriolanus gritted, teeth bared in a tight smile he tried to pass off as genuine. “But I need you for a moment.” He looked down at you, hand wrapping around your bicep firmly. 

You frowned, lower lip jutting just slightly. “Oh,” You deflated. Coriolanus was sure he might kill the man in front of him, who still looked at you with the watchfulness of a hawk- a predator. How you were missing this, Corio wasn’t sure, but he’d protect you from it. 

“Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” You smiled softly at your friends, lifting the train of your dress, stepping with Coriolanus. 

“Where are we going?” You frowned, clutching his arm to steady yourself, walking through the doors. “Who are we meeting?” 

“You’re drunk.” Coriolanus hissed, jaw clenched in fury. 

You frowned, looking up at him carefully. “I’m not drunk.” You protested. “I only had two glasses-” 

Corio scoffed, his hand tightening around your arm. “Two? Were they spiked then?” His eyes narrowed at the thought, cutting down to you. “Did you get them yourself or did he get them for you?” 

“Did who get them? Corio, please,” You pulled back on his grasp with a whine. “You’re hurting me.” 

Corio loosened his grip, pulling you into an empty hallway. “Did he give you those drinks? What have I told you about taking anything from people? They want to hurt us, hurt me, and they know that if they go for you-” 

“Coriolanus,” You snapped, cutting off his erratic ramblings. “Please, I-I did not take a drink from anyone. I got it from my private bottle, poured it myself.” 

Corio’s chest still heaved, the burning wildfire coursing through his veins. He felt primal need, furious anger that raged through him in a way he hadn’t felt since his days with Lucy Gray. When he was so insecure, so unsure- when he attacked the man at her show, beat him on the stage for touching her. That seemed tame compared to what he wanted to do for you- what he had done for you. 

“What’s the matter, my love?” You hummed, cupping his cheek gently. “Why are you upset? Is it the Heavensbees, I told you my father said he’d speak to them-” 

“-No, it’s not-” Coriolanus huffed, pulling away, hand rubbing down his face in exasperation. He tried to keep from shouting at you, always feeling sick after. He took a breath, composing himself. 

“Were you talking about Vulcan?” You asked, looking up at him, even as he avoided your gaze. “You think Vulcan would poison me?” 

“Maybe not poison but drug you.” Coriolanus sneered at the mention of his name. “Get you unconscious and take advantage of you. The way he was all over you, you can’t say I’m far off.” 

Your mouth rounded in clarity, biting back a smile. Coriolanus was jealous. Positively green with envy- well, more red, with the flush creeping up his neck.

“Corio,” You hummed, holding his hand in yours, purposefully pressing the band of your ring into his skin. “Vulcan is just a friend. We’ve grown up together.” 

“I’m not sure he knows that.” Corio spat, squeezing your hand back. “Entertaining you like that. Flirting.” He scoffed in disgust. “Down right inappropriate doing that with a married woman.” 

“He wasn’t flirting.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.

“Oh?” Coriolanus countered in challenge, brows raised in feigned amusement. “He was just touching you then for… what? Friendliness?” 

You blushed under his gaze, Corio towering over you, stepping towards you until you were pinned to the wallpaper, his icy gaze holding you there. 

“If I recall, my beloved, you were quite upset when a friend of mine touched my arm. Nearly clawed her eyes out, causing a scene until I had to drag you out of the library because you were so upset.” Corio’s voice was dark, rasping with that gruff tone that had you throbbing, tummy flipping with rushing heat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“That-That was different.” You stuttered, avoiding his gaze. 

Corio’s finger hooked under your jaw, pulling your eyes back to him. “Was it?” He tilted his head to the side, a predatory look in his eyes. You wanted to drop to your knees right there. “So the rules don’t apply to you?” 

“Corio, I-I wasn’t purposefully trying to upset you.” You huffed in exaspiration. You really weren’t, you didn’t even know that it had upset him so greatly. 

“Neither was I, but that didn’t stop you from being furious with Clemensia, did it?” Coriolanus lifted a brow, head tilting in challenge. 

Your nose scrunched at the mention of her name, lips twisted in disgust. “No,” You grumbled, looking away from his eyes. “Corio, don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know it upset you. I thought it was innocent, truly. Vulcan is just a friend. You know my heart belongs to you only.” 

“It might have been innocent for you, but I don’t trust him.” Coriolanus gritted, pressing you against the wall. “I want you to be careful, my love. You know the dangers of the world. We never know who’s conspiring against us.” 

“I know, Corio.” You whispered softly, eyes rounding so sweetly up at him. “I’ll be careful. I’m sorry.” 

Corio’s thumb brushed over your cheek softly, smiling at you- your heart skipped with joy. “You’re mine. You know that?” 

“Of course,” You hummed sincerely. “I wouldn’t want to be anyone but yours.” 

Those words, the look in your eye, it drove Coriolanus right over the edge. Hands cradled around your jaw, he kissed you with fever, body pressing right up to your own. His hands roamed over the silk material of your dress, squeezing, grabbing anything he could. 

You squealed with delight when he pushed you into your shared bedroom, dragging you down the halls of the Capitol mansion until he reached your private wing. He practically pounced on you, holding you so close to his own skin. Sucking deep brusises into your jaw and neck, each mark a new claim- mine, mine, mine. 

He’d make a call later, wire funds to someone who would ensure that Vulcan was dealt with. You’d hear of the news and run to him, rambling and upset about how he was right, how you didn’t know how you missed it. He’d soothe you, remind you that’s why he was here for you- to look out for you. Your father would approve even more so, another round of donations poured right into his funds, helping build his legacy. For now, Coriolanus was content between your legs, feeling you underneath him- the way you whined, squirmed, clawed at him. How you babbled his name over and over- begged for him, and for him only. His perfect girl, for no one else.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I will never understand people who want female characters in the game, you know why the game only has boys, the game is for the female target audience, there are several games with only girls

[Referencing this post!]

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to see more women in Twst in general! You’d expect it, wouldn’t you…? Maybe not at NRC, but with the students so often going abroad or into Foothill Town or meeting with their family members, they’d surely run into women at some point or another. It makes the world feel more fleshed out when these women are actually give unique designs and characters, as we see with some siblings, parents, and grandparents.

However, these women would likely not become playable because Twst is presented as a story exploring relationships between men and the primary setting is an all-boys magic school. Outsiders can’t even come onto NRC campus without authorization because of its magic barrier. Twst is also aiming for a certain target demographic, and while women can also enjoy women, it’s just not the direction the devs have decided to go with. It hasn’t chosen to be a mixed gender gacha game from the get-go, so expecting or demanding it of the devs isn’t the way to go; no expectation of a playable mixed gender roster has been set for Twst.

I don’t think anyone is calling for an all-girls game, but I have seen complaints that there’s no all-girls magic school mentioned, only all-boys ones as far as I am aware. It creates the impression that magic and elite schools are only for men, but I don’t think that’s the intention of the game?? It feels like a limitation due to the format and assets (like how the game only shows beastmen students in Savanaclaw when the manga and anime show beastmen in all the dorms). With the franchise being so centered on appealing to women, many of whom are yumejoshi (self-shippers) or are fujoshi (enjoyers of men loving men), introducing an all-girls school may cause tension with ships the fans have. The mere PRESENCE of a girl has caused waves in fandoms before, even if the girl just exists and doesn’t do or say anything flirty. (See: Obey Me fandom when Thirteen was announced; some fans felt threatened that she would “steal” the boys away.) Maybe Twst wants to avoid that…? Granted, OM is a dating sim/romantic in nature and Twst isn’t, so the reaction may not be the same.

I want to point out men do this too, even for games that aren’t romantic or dating sims. When Granblue Fantasy did a collab with Love Live, they eliminated all men from the event story except for the player character so as to not have any men BUT the player interacting with the Love Live idol girls.

In any case, I’m sure that all-girls magic schools exist in Twst, but just are not mentioned or explored in order to not infringe on this large aspect of the fandom. This is probably also why no NRC staff are women, even though one-gender schools irl typically don’t insist the staff match that gender as well (as this would be gender discrimination). Again, it’s not Twst’s focus. Just because Twst doesn’t call attention to it doesn’t mean it isn’t real or that it never happened. (If that were the case, then we’d assume silly things like the characters not showering is true even though they must clearly all clean themselves off-screen.)

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if Twst introduced more women characters that weren’t family members or ineligible NPCs (like the Ghost Bride/Eliza) 💦 What would happen if Twst gave us a cute girl around the NRC students’ age that frequently interacts with the main cast of boys? Like… would there be vitriol towards her from the shippers?? Would she be seen as “competition”???

And, interestingly, Yuus are an exception to this because they are seen as a proxy for players (who are largely feminine-presenting women) who self insert and project onto them. Fans liked when Yuuka Hirasaka (Episode of Savanaclaw manga Yuu) “canonized” girl Yuus, and they LOVED Yuuna Oujou (Episode of Scarabia manga Yuu) for “canonizing” outright feminine Yuus because they validate femme fans’ identities.

I find the fandom reaction to Yuuna (whom I adore) especially fascinating because I think it actually highlights some issues with the expectations we have for women and how we perceive the same relationships entirely differently just by swapping out a femme!Yuu for a masc!Yuu. I would recommend reading this post by Kallisto; I found it so enlightening and it made me see this matter from a whole new perspective.

[kryptickrow]

partially based off another true story of when my primary school took us on a school camp and the camp offered just bread and butter and it was the fucking shit. absolutely the best food they gave us. and it was just white bread and butter. not toasted.

[andy-wm]

I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

<I need to lie down and process this>

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

<NGL I may have shed a tear here>

Lets begin 1, 2

<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

[from-izzy]

WITHIN HIS FRAME | THE BOYZ KIM SUNWOO

The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.

synopsis » three years, limited communication. usually you would listen to your mum. but not this time. not when your heart still inevitably belongs to kim sunwoo. it's just that...does he still have space for you in his life?

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » friends to lovers, slight strangers to lovers, (implied) rich girl x (not so) poor boy, non-idol au, slight high school au (flashbacks), university/college break au (is when the story takes place)

genre » super fluffy, hurt/comfort >>>>>>, SLOW-BURN (just look at the wc...), sunwoo and reader are blind and soooo lovesick for each other that i got really pissed at them both (...and i wrote them-), sunwoo takes care of reader so well, the boy is super in love with you, photographer sunwoo who loves to look at pictures of you (and him)

word count ; estimated reading time » 27,768 ; ...i am so sorry-

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » slightly suggestive, toxic family dynamic (reader with mother), mentions of unknown sharing of live locations, kissing, assuming others' feelings/thoughts, reader and sunwoo being unsure of themselves, swearing, insecurities, pet names (bubs), reader implied to be physically shorter and smaller than sunwoo, proofread chapter-by-chapter

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

hmm...honestly, i'm not too sure how to start off with introducing this story 🥀 you're about to read a story that i've had in my drafts for a very long time because 1) i've been scared to write it and 2) i didn't have a lot of energy to write a story that means so much to me.

this story is a very dramatised way of what my life could be like if i followed my heart more. a happy ending...? maybe? we'll never know because we never know where life takes us. my mum is actually one of the biggest supporter in my life so the reader's mother role in this story is like a 'what if my mum wasn't the person she is?' 🥹 i'm super thankful for her, but sometimes i think about what would it be like if i got more support, you know? and sunwoo in this story? he represents everything that i would have chased if i wasn't so easily controlled by the world.

i'll forever be stuck with the 'if only i did it' but maybe-just maybe-i'll learn bit by bit to do what i want to do ❤️‍🩹 so here i represent you cupid's mistake's sibling and my longest fic by date to be published 🫂

thank you to everyone who listened to me yap about this baby and happy birthday, kim sunwoo 💗

ONE: SHE'S WHAT?!

It's a peaceful morning for Millie who has decided to reward her early mornings by sleeping in for the Sunday. Tomorrow, a new weekday would begin and rest is essential if she wants to deal with energetic primary school children for another week. Habitually, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, scrolling through less important messages until one immediately rids any tiredness from her system.

"What?!" Her back springs from the mattress, eyes wide on the photo message from you.

Smiling like nothing matters in the world.

With a peace sign beside your face.

Beside you, an oval-like window.

Outside, blue sky and white clouds.

You're on a plane.

And judging by the way you decided to send this to her, Millie can only assume you're on the way here. Back to Korea. Back to your homeland where you haven't set foot for three years. You missed Christmas, your birthday, New Year and even Halloween with your best friend and her high school sweetheart as well as your cousin, Eric Sohn. Sure, care packages were sent and video calls were made despite time and body clock differences, but nothing can beat being in the same place with your loved ones.

Other than the fact that Millie had to borrow her mum's car without much explanation, the only thing she could think about is your unplanned arrival.

"How annoying." She isn't sure if she's talking about you or the traffic piled up nearer to the airport. "And the parking fee, too?! I'm going to make her pay for that..." A fake, somewhat menacing smile makes its way on her face at the double-digit fee at the first hour.

Regardless, you're still her best friend, and even though she has so many ways of scolding you, Millie would be there whenever you needed her. On the way, her mind couldn't help but wonder about the answers to your actions. You're not necessarily the type to do something so unplanned, yet at the same time, maybe she should've expected this with your insistence in coming back. 

To come back to breathe Korea's air. To be back to celebrate all those missed occasions. To eat ramen with Eric by the Han River. To go on a shopping spree with her and regret the low figures of your bank account later.

Or to come back because you miss a certain someone.

Millie heaves a sigh, relaxing her shoulders and leaning against her seat. Her eyes drift to the photograph on her dashboard: a group graduation photo. There's a bittersweet feeling for the boy who has his arm wrapped around your lower back. Kim Sunwoo’s smile is not what they should be paying attention to, but his other clenched fist by his side, and the spark gone from his eyes.

"Can't blame him," a sombre smile forming on her lips. "Kim Sunwoo is a coward who has been pining for you for a long time, you know?" 

It’s excruciating for everyone to watch you and Sunwoo hopelessly in love for the longest time. She and Eric promised not to involve themselves too much during high school, believing that there was still a lot of time to be spared. As time passed, so did the lingering wish that she at least nudged in some way. Given the external circumstances, though, would anything have changed even with her or Eric’s interference? 

"The world isn't fair to you both. It sucks."

The grip on the leathered steering wheel supports Millie’s words. A few seconds later, another thought emerges, and her grip loosens. The fact that you're here, assumingly through your actions, could it be? 

That you're trying to at least be fairer to your heart?

TWO: HALF OF THE GROUP REUNITED

It's totally unplanned- well, to a certain extent.

You were fully awake when you booked that plane ticket, fingers dragging across the cold touchpad. You were aware of putting in the dates of your one-way flight, clicking away. You were aware of the last minute packing accompanied by the sunrise, yawning mid-way.

Even on the plane right now, as the flight attendant asks you to put your window cover back up, you're aware of how the letters surrounding you will change. People will speak in Korean, almost foreign to you now. But that's okay. Because you're home. At the very least, with your heart racing like crazy, you've stepped foot into the place you've been longing for.

With that, not only the place but also the people. The ones you've missed dearly. The ones you kept in touch with for your years abroad; the ones that you were on the brink of losing as well.

"Oh," kind of breath taken with the bustling pace of the airport.

The adrenaline has run out as your shaking legs make it hard for you to walk. The shops within the airport have slightly changed, some undergoing renovations so you couldn't even take a peak. You chew on your bottom lip at the unfamiliarity of your homeland, wondering if this anxiety will fade. When your phone is spammed with messages, you know it will soon.

WTFKFJFFJ HUH?!??? WDYM YOURE JN THE AIR? BITCH WIPE THAT PRETTYS LIFTLE SMILE OFF YOUR FACR THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY DAY OFF INSIDE THE FUCKIMG HOUSEEWTFFFFF WE HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABIUT MISSY

"Some things didn't change," you chuckle as you react to Millie's messages. Before you can go through all of them, your screen flashes with your cousin's name, bright and clear with the profile picture you haven't changed since high school.

"You’re in Korea?!" His surprised voice blasts through the speaker. You flinch, distancing your phone away from your ear. "Girl, why didn’t you tell me?! Did you tell Millie?! Or Sunw-”

"Not even a 'hi' or 'hello'?" Grumbling at the lack of greeting. "Millie is picking me up soon, okay? I'm gonna have to listen to her yapping, so spare me the double lecture, Eric Sohn."

"You have no right to use my full name!"

Arguing with Eric over the phone like this, without seeing his wide eyes and flared nose feels weird as you're so used to videos. But you reassure yourself that this is better as you'll be able to see all of that first hand soon anyway.

"Ok, well, surprise? I'm in Korea!"

"No shit, you're in Korea?!" Eric cheers on the other line. "Clear your schedule out today! And tell Millie to pick me up after! Actually, you should come to sleep over at my house today!"

Right...the accommodation problem. There isn't one, especially when Eric is offering. But you also did promise yourself to muster the courage to at least go home, greet your parents first (and maybe get their lectures first and foremost) before going out to clear your head afterwards. 

They don't know you're here. 

You’ve gathered all your wages for the plane ticket, even upgrading your check-in weight for the one-way ticket. Millie is the first person to know of your arrival, and you only hope that it stops with Eric, but you're beginning to doubt that with his excitement. At this point, his whole neighbourhood would know of your return.

You've been dreading to see them, but you know dragging it out would be worse. You're in trouble for going against their words big time. For all you know, they could send you back without another word. "I have to tell my parents I'm here, Eric."

Your voice is low, head hung down as you stare at your lap. Eric realises the severity of the situation by your tone. Are your parents even going to let you live after showing up like this? Your parents are strict, expecting obedience with no explanation needed. The only difference is that the man isn't always home, and you hope that’s the case this time too so that you'll only deal with one thing at a time. 

“You bitch!!” The booming voice attracts bystanders and takes you out of your thoughts. You couldn’t even identify where the voice came from when your back takes the weight of friendship. “You are so dead!”

“Let me live!” Smacking Millie’s hands away.

“You let me live! I’m supposed to be rotting in bed, yet it’s twelve. I haven’t eaten breakfast, you’re here without a warning and-”

“Okay, I’ll buy you food! Just let me go!”

THREE: BELLY FULL, WALLET FULL

You swear that getting free food has been Millie’s plan all along. What made it worse is that you had to pay for your cousin, who you’re also convinced is on a mission to clear your wallet. As the two lovebirds chomp on their food with satisfying hums and thumbs, you know that some things didn’t change. With your three years abroad, Eric did visit you once in a while, and so did Millie last year. Both still stayed pronounced in your life.

 “You booked the ticket three days ago?” Eric exclaims with a full mouth. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Whatever. I know you’re happy that I’m here.”

But the truth is that you knew that if you left it for too long, you would never have gotten on the plane. The ticket is expensive despite factoring the cheapest date and time. Even so, you know it’s best this way.

“And so? Are you going home, or are you staying over at my place?”

You shrug at the question. “I think I’ll just go home and break the news today. There’s no point dragging it on for longer.”

“Or your mum doesn’t have to know,” Millie suggests.

“Got a tracker app on my phone. It’s not gonna work. Honestly, I'm sure they know that I'm here and waiting for me.”

It’s a grim reminder for the couple who stops chewing on their food, solemn eyes on their half cooked beef. They understand that being abroad, it’s not a bad thing to keep a GPS tracker on your phone. They would understand and agree with that, but in reality, your mum has kept a tracker on you ever since you had a phone. 

Throughout high school and twenty-four-seven, she sent messages when they knew you weren’t going to make it home before curfew. As your friends, they try their best to keep their thoughts calm, respecting the set boundaries. Deep down, they’re sick of your controlling parents, and Millie rolling her eyes is an indication of it. Your shoulder bumps into her intentionally, giving her a smile that isn’t quite genuine. 

Millie dropped the topic, moving onto one that she had been dying to ask since she picked you up. “Does he know? Did you tell him that you’re here?” 

No name has been given, but everyone at the table knows exactly who is being referred to. The table is quiet; only the meat crackling on the stove and the loud ventilation of the overhead vacuum hide your nervousness. Millie spots your fingers playing with the cuffs of your sleeves, finding out the answer herself. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Millie,” a blatant lie. “He really did limit his interactions with me for the past three years,” a painful truth following.

“Why are you here then? I know you’re not here just because you miss us. Or Korea. Or that you’re homesick.”

Hesitancy fills you, your voice refusing to come out. “I don’t know,” you repeat your denial.

“I know you know,” Millie called you out. “You know what? This isn’t productive,” she chugs the rest of the water in her cup, distributing the rest of the food between three plates. “Hurry and eat. We’re going somewhere.”

FOUR: A GLIMPSE OF HIM

The streets outside slowly shift from familiar buildings to new ones. At first, you thought that maybe being away from Korea was to blame, but looking at the street name and the GPS on Eric's phone, you're sure that you've never stepped foot in this area. Asking the purpose of why you're at this seemingly random street that has been shut down multiple times, Millie’s “you'll see” becomes the routine answer.

The side of your head leans onto the window, eyes gazing over the new sight. Even though nobody’s telling you anything, you can't help but be mesmerised by the new buildings. The purpose of this ride becomes evident when Eric secures a side road parking directly in front of a camera shop. From the exterior, the paint job is pristine and smooth. Either the weather hasn't eroded the white colour, the owner repaints often or the paint has some tough defense. 

Millie peeks through the rearview mirror, your raised eyebrows wanting an explanation. “We're here. Get out of the car.” She and Eric hop off, prompting you to do the same.

The car door shuts in one swing, but your arms flail exhausted next to your body. “I still don't understand why we're here-” It seems like Millie is growing impatient with your lack of analysing your surroundings.

Your best friend holds both your shoulders firmly, aligning your body with the camera shop. At first, your head shakes at your tattered reflection, and your mouth opens to complain until the figure inside the store shifts your attention from yourself to them. 

On the opposite side of the glass, Kim Sunwoo kneels to be on the same eye level as a weeping child. His hair is jet black, unlike the brown that you last saw him with. His strands are all over the place, not an unusual sight when it comes to him. Your fingers twitch as your instinct from high school comes, recalling all the times you parted his hair neatly, brushing his bangs out of his view. Sunwoo’s distinct toothy smile calms the child, the parent beside him heaving a sigh of relief. But for you, you stop breathing for a while, breath taken away by the sight that you have missed the most.

“It's actually him…” Your eyes refuse to blink in fear that he might disappear. 

Three years seems to be enough to change some things while others stay the same. However, the lingering feelings that you have for the boy just by a flash of his smile resurfaces. Suddenly, you know coming back is the right choice, but seeing Sunwoo right now isn't just yet. 

“This store is his,” Millie informs softly beside you. “It’s a small store but never his efforts. Did it all by himself.”

You audibly gasp at the news. You could imagine all the hard work Sunwoo had put into the store, both mentally and physically. The privacy inside the store is partly protected by a cloudy sticker, but shelves of his products peek out, lenses of cameras on display, waiting to capture someone's memories.

As the sunlight reflects off a lens, you let the light guide your feet forward. You let your feet gravitate closer, curiosity piqued at the store before you. The first step is easy, but the second displaces the light from its position. 

"I'll come back tomorrow. I'm sure he's tired and doesn't want to see anyon-"

“Go and talk to him,” Eric cuts you off. “Besides, it's his birthday today.”

"We’re gonna go buy a cake really quick. You go on ahead and surprise him," Millie encourages with a slight push on your lower back.

Your eyes flicker to your two best friends, smiles reaching their eyes as their gazes point to the entrance door. They don't spare you a chance to rebut, linking their arms and skipping away. The 'open' sign has just been flipped away by its owner, and even through the clouded glass, the full body stretch that Sunwoo rewarded his tired muscles with relaxes your heartbeat. Your feet slide towards the door, cold fingertips reaching the metal handle. All you need to do is push, and the hinge of the door will welcome the cooler air inside. It would also give you a proper introduction to the boy that you have been missing.

And that's all you want. 

You just want to see Kim Sunwoo again properly. So your arm pushes against the curved surface, feet stepping into glossy tiles from gravel. The room is minimalistic, with barely a speck of dust infiltrating the crevices of the shelf. The walls are kept clean and white, seemingly expanding the room. Each shelf is neatly polished, and the names of the products, along with the price written to avoid confusion. Various levels of shelves, ranging from the floor to the ceiling, to fully glassed cabinets for display surround the room’s perimeter. The goods are placed neatly in rows, the label facing the front to greet the customers with no doubt of what they're looking at. The space wafts of musky cologne and new cardboard behind the front desk. Just from a single glance, Millie is right: it's obvious that Sunwoo put his all into this store. 

Then the cashier table: slightly less organised, stationery scattered all over the papers that hid the surface of the white table. It brings a nostalgic smile to your face, knowing that Sunwoo is still as messy. The number of times you gulped did nothing to the tears that gathered around the bottom of your eyelids, and you tried your best to stop them from escaping. Behind the desk, the owner sits and clicks away on his computer for a little longer. When he registers the tapping on the floor to not be his impatient ones, he looks away from the big screen.

“Sorry, we're clo-”

The customer service smile that Sunwoo has prepared, the higher pitch and the louder volume vanish at the sight of you. His eyes widen, making sure that he's not hallucinating from the lack of sleep, his lips parting. The hand on his mouse clatters when he stands, feet rooted to the ground as he proceeds to stare and blink at your presence. 

“Hi…” are the only words that come out from your lips as you will yourself deeper into the store. Soon enough, you're centimetres away from the other side of the desk Sunwoo stays stuck at. You held onto your bag as tightly as your chest is starting to feel with his stare.

"A-Am I dreaming? Are you real...?” A hand sweeps his hair back. “W-What is going on...?"

Your heart swells at his reaction. At the very least, it's nice to know that he isn't kicking you out. "I came back this morning. Millie picked me up,” shrugging your shoulders away as if it wasn't a big deal.

But to Kim Sunwoo, it is. It's a very big deal. 

His eyes scan over your figure, dressed lightly in the coming warmer months. Your fashion style didn't change from memory, and neither did the way your eyes sparkle. Sunwoo steps out from behind the counter, his blue hoodie and long baggy pants coming into full view. He's dressed very casually, contrasting the professionalism of having a job, and that's so Kim Sunwoo of him. 

No barrier stands between you and Sunwoo now. You didn't think you would be reaching into your bag today as you had no expectations of seeing him. A box rests on your palm as you extend it towards Sunwoo. The boy averts his gaze to your wonderful wrapping skills. 

“Happy Birthday, Sunwoo,” you congratulate him. “Just a little something from me to you.”

He left your arms hanging for a while, his forgetting how to move from his side. Your heart grows wary as he examines your handwriting of his name on the tag, your arms slowly retracting back to yourself. Before you can, Sunwoo mutters his gratitude, finally accepting your gift. You release the tense breath, shoulders loosening with the touch of his skin. 

Then, you announce something that would drastically change Sunwoo’s schedules, “I'm home.”

FIVE: (SOMEWHAT) EXPERT ADVICE

Eric and Millie show up with a fully decorated cake with declarative toppers a few moments after. The four of you clutter around the front desk, devouring dessert before the main dinner meal. Conversations are loud, not letting silence take over at the reunion. You and Sunwoo haven't interacted much ever since the other two came, but you're satisfied with the shared moment now. Smearing cream onto each other's faces, photos clicking to capture the tradition, blasting music from Eric's phone as Millie fills the unknown lyrics with gibberish. 

It's so nice to be home like this. 

You didn't realise the eyes stuck onto you the whole time, stolen glances on top of it as the past two hours flew by. Sunwoo didn’t expect to close the store with a bright smile with sweet remnants on his face from the last few days of exhaustion. Today, though, the only thing exhausted is the storage space of his phone.

“Let's go for a proper dinner!” 

“Convenience store dinner?” You add on to Eric’s words, “Just like back in high school.”

“Broke dinner,” Millie agrees with the idea.

Your eyes shift to Sunwoo, waiting for his answer. It's then that you notice him already striding away. “You guys go on ahead. I need to head back first. Thank you for today.”

To say that your heart drops at his answer is an understatement. Did Sunwoo really not want to be near you that much? Did you possibly ruin his day? You automatically occupy your mind with such thoughts, missing the way he turns his back to start walking the opposite way, and the last glance he spares your way. You take notice of his deflated shoulders, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and you had to force yourself to look away to save the rest of your heart.

“Actually, I just remembered that I left something at Sunwoo’s house! You two go on ahead!” Eric attempts to be subtle, but not with how he rushes to blurt out his words.

Millie takes notice of your clenching hands, sympathetic eyes falling onto you. “He's not happy to see me, I guess," a lifeless chuckle followed after.

"Don't be ridiculous," Millie reassures. "He's just shocked, that's all."

"But he looks kind of disturbed with me being here, you know? Maybe he doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. He has spent the last three years barely texting me after all…"

Millie has always been the friend to say otherwise to your negative thoughts. She has an almost perfect success rate in making you feel better whenever you feel down, but this time, she's speechless. There’s nothing that she can offer other than an engulfing hug, letting some of your tears fall onto her shoulder while she pats the back of your head. No one knows why Kim Sunwoo decided to cut you off from his life.

And that’s what Eric Sohn wants to know, or at least confront him about. 

"Way to go, Sunwoo.” Eric’s remark is snide, a hint of amusement but also expectancy of his treatment towards you.

Sunwoo scowls at his company, "Stop it, Eric."

"Why don't you give her a chance? Your heart a chance?"

“Yeah? Don't you remember what she went through because of me?"

Eric scoffs, disbelief at a past event that Sunwoo has evaluated negatively without hearing your side. He turns to his friend. "What did she go through, Sunwoo? When was there ever a time when she was sad with you?"

His steps pick up, wanting to avoid this conversation for the nth time, "Maybe not with me, but because of me."

"Really?” Her tone rose sharply, "Because as far as I remember, the only time she was sad because of you was when you weren't there to see her off at the airport because you apparently overslept.” A grimace makes its way to Sunwoo’s face. “As if anyone believed you.”

Sunwoo shakes his head, fist wanting to wreck havoc, "It doesn't matter. None of that matters. She's going to leave again, and we’ll be out of touch. It's better that way."

"You're an idiot,” Eric raises both hands in despair. "Give your heart a chance because for the last three years, all I see in your eyes is longing." And you need to see the same thing in her as well, the cousin thought to himself. 

“Give it a chance only for it to break?”

His best friend decides to ignore the comment, phone lighting up with a reminder set for tomorrow's events. “The festival is tomorrow,” Eric raises a corner of her lip, plotting something in his head. “You're on pick-up duty.”

“What? No!”

“You can't just wait for the right circumstances to come, you coward.” The two friends arrive at the end of the shared road. Eric waves his exit, leaving a flabbergasted Sunwoo behind, intending to cut the birthday boy some slack. But true friends being true friends, his words still leave him with no mercy after all. “Some are made.”

SIX: TAKE ME AWAY

The last time you attended the mentioned beach festival was four years ago before you left. It was the last year of high school, stakes running high as students buried their noses into teared-up textbook pages. With how harsh each page flip gets with each passing second, it’s a miracle that the page is still intact with the book’s spine.

The memory seemed so distant yet everytime this time came around each year, you couldn’t help but to long for it. For now, academics is for another country and you're not there right now. You occupy the next half an hour on your phone in bed, scrolling through social media when the annual beach post festival reminder pops up on your screen. 

“Oh…” Your thumb hovers to the comments section, scrolling through countless usernames tagging their loved ones to inform them of the event. “Should I go…?” But then the no company makes you swipe the app close, “Nevermind.”

Laying on your side, you’re met with your wall, allowing your mind to wander. You recall the time Sunwoo stubbornly got hurt a few years back just so that you could attend the festival, desperately wanting to take you. The dry air transports you back to the time when you surrounded yourself with the glossy finish of your chemistry, psychology and human biology books spread on your massive study table.

“This is so…” You let your sentence trail off, telling your conscious mind to read the next sentence, to just hold on for another page. 

The headphones are ripped out from the comfort of the top of your head, now dangling pathetically around your neck as you rest your forehead on the staggering amount of words. Doing this non-stop for three hours without a break is not effective, but you can't bring yourself to rest.

You knew you should’ve gone to the library, but you needed to be able to say the words out loud for memorisation. You knew you should’ve studied in the cafe, but the aroma of chocolate and coffee would empty your wallet. You knew you should—

“Ouch!” 

The thudding exclamation came from the left, where your open window is. Judging from the location of your room being on the second floor, you deduced that something (or rather, someone) must have injured themselves. Instinctively, your hand reaches for your phone to inform the guards, but it halts at the familiarity of the voice.

You cautiously approach the window, a pillow in hand as a (not so effective) weapon for whoever is waiting on the other side. Your head takes quick dips in and out of the sight of the outside world, a glimpse of a blank-haired boy sitting on the ground. Deeming it safe, half of your lower body is out of the comfort of your cooler room, the golden hour highlighting your face. Just as you expected, the boy looks defeated at the fact that he can’t reach your window’s apron, his butt glued to the soil and a hand clamped on the side of his head.

Sunwoo hasn’t noticed your presence, mumbling incoherent curses to himself as he continues to massage the pain out of his head after falling for a second time. You chose not to break the self-talk that the innocent boy is doing, now pacing around the area in a small, endless circle to the point that he could leave his trails on the grassed area. A hand slaps over your mouth, keeping the volume of your chuckles as minimal as you can as you hear the adorable self-encouragement.

“Ah, crap! I gotta be quick!”

“Wait, it’s six already?!”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m getting a grip now! Let’s do this!”

You watch Sunwoo retreat a bit further from the wall of your house, a small smile appearing on your face as you see a similar expression start to take over his face, yet comparatively, it’s different and so much more genuine. If the raised corner of your lips is full of hesitancy, negativity and is fictitious, he holds the meaning of confidence, positivity and perseverance. It’s one of the many things that you love about him, and the rays of heaven shining down on him make you melt into the thought of Kim Sunwoo every time.

Maybe it’s not something that a ‘clueless eighteen-year-old’ should think about, as your mother says, but the heart knows the truth. But all it takes is one person to make you feel the emotions that you can't receive and feel in this household. Your shoulder muscles relax, and the weight in your chest lifts whenever Sunwoo is within reach.

“Kim Sunwoo…” fingers clenching the painted window frame, “when will you ever leave me alone?”

The easy answer to that is never.

Simple and true—just like your love for him and his love for you.

Clouded in your thoughts, you lose track of Sunwoo’s attempts to break in. Another exclamation breaks your daydream, and you feel bad for almost laughing at Sunwoo’s misery.

“What do you think you're doing?” Making your presence known to the boy downstairs.

It’s interesting to see how his smile sprouted more as he craned his neck up so much that you worry about the cramp that will arise later on. The beam plastered on his face takes your breath away.

“This makes my life easier!” Sunwoo jumps around like a child at the sight of you. “Come on! Let's go!”

The slight shake of your head and scoff tells Sunwoo your first thoughts, “You know I can't, Woo,” and it dulls the radiant atmosphere that he has been emitting.

“I’ll bring you back.” No doubt about that, and for some reason, it’s a miracle that your parents have never caught you. “Your parents won't even know,” he reinforces his will of bringing you out.

“It’s funny how you say that when you can't even enter through my very open window.”

“I’m sorry that I haven’t mastered the art of floating,” he sassily remarks with an eye roll. “Come on! Eric and Millie are waiting!”

It's scary to even think about running away with an ominous presence behind you, even though your mum is away for the next few days. With how much you’ve been cooped up between your four walls, you could recite the little scratches on the wall, the same ones that made your mum throw a tantrum to the painters who you believe did their job as best as they could. In the end, those hard-workers end up leaving with no pay, stinging you that you share the same genetics as one of the two figures in your life that you’re supposed to be able to trust and look up to.

“It's okay, Woo…” your mind already reciting the reactants to carboxylic acid, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Just two hours!” Holding up corresponding fingers to you. “Then I'll take you back home! Now jump, and I'll catch you! Promise!”

You know very well that Sunwoo wouldn't let you fall, however the height is crazy for you and his words aren't the most trustworthy. “With what muscles?!”

“Hey! You know I wouldn't dare to drop you!” He retaliated with his two arms up to the sky. 

His open arms tempt you to do as he says instead of taking the long way down, even though the difference in time between the two routes is barely different. You find yourself sitting on the ledge of your window and in Sunwoo’s arms seconds later. The warmth of the sun is nothing compared to the hold he has on you, body shaking as he sets you on your feet. Your hand clamps on his t-shirt, eyes welling up at the caring orbs he has for you. 

“See? Told you I would catch you.” The loose strands of your hair are tucked behind your ears. Sunwoo exhales at your tears, thumbs wiping them away, “You can cry if you want.”

“Mhm…” You nod whilst still keeping eye contact with him. 

“It's okay,” he shakes his head at the threatening waterfall, “cry it out.”

His hand pushes you to his chest, fingers lightly massaging the back of your head. “It's just…I can't…”

“Yes, you can,” he argues. “You're the smartest person I know, and you're going to do well. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me a lot of things…”

“Because you’re worth all of them.”

You got caught that day as your mum finished her business earlier than expected. Unfortunately, that was also Sunwoo’s first meeting with her. A beautiful day turning into a mess. Needless to say, the restrictions placed upon you increased, and freedom immensely decreased. You could no longer hang out with anyone after school, not even in the library during the weekends. The want to see your friends outside of the school only increases when you knew you were leaving, but your parents stood their ground.

And now, all grown up, sometimes when you're given the ability to do what you want, you simply can't. 

Outside your house is a different story. Sunwoo paces around outside your gate, rewriting his text to you for the third time. “Or I could just turn back and go home!” 

During his mental breakdown, the text accidentally sends, and the ‘seen’ receipt appears almost straight away. “...WHAT?!”

im outside…?

You've never skipped down the stairs, stumbled over the air and almost embarrassingly face-planted to the ground. The click of the front door opens, revealing the crease between your eyebrows, eyes scanning your front yard for the unexpected visitor. The little wave outside your property catches your attention. Sunwoo is leaning on the hood of his car outside your fence.

With a touch of the button, the front gates creak open, and you usher Sunwoo in as you hurriedly slip on shoes, once again almost stumbling. Sunwoo's head shakes at your invitation, pointing at the ground as he offers you a reassuring smile.

You watch Sunwoo attending his phone, the device against his ear. Your phone rings shortly after, Sunwoo's name on your screen. Your thumb clicks on the green button with no hesitation.

“You look tired.”

It's such a wonder how he's able to catch your expression from far away. But truthfully, he couldn’t. Sunwoo just knows everything about you, including the implications of your slightly draping shoulders.

“My mum chewed me out for coming without notice and, I quote, ‘Running around Korea before heading home first' and also said that I'm ungrateful,” you shrug at last night's lecture. “But what's new? She's kind of always like that.”

Sunwoo hums, “I'm proud of you.” You’re taken aback from the words, not fully understanding them. With your silence, Sunwoo takes it as a cue to explain, “That you came back here because you wanted to. You always obeyed your parents, which to a certain extent is good, but I’m sure you know what’s good and bad for you now.” 

“Oh…” your neck hangs low, kicking the small rocks away from the sill of the door. A faint smile grows as you begin to acknowledge your bravery in coming despite being afraid of the “what ifs. “Thank you, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo nods, a tender gaze overlooking your figure from afar. “You can take a nap in my car if you’re still tired…if you want…”

An eyebrow rises at the question, bringing your head back up see Sunwoo shrugging his shoulders. “Are you asking me out?"

"Maybe," he chuckles, and you see the way he shifts his sitting in slight excitement, eyes fondly setting on you. "The annual beach festival is today. You haven't gone in a while, and I was wondering if you want to go with us again. Eric and Millie are there already."

Your eyes widen, wondering at the perfect timing of it all. If your phone was fragile, it would have shattered underneath your grip. You stand stunned for a minute longer, and there's a beat of the crows cawing in the background. Sunwoo nervously fidgets with his keys as he waits. After a while, he misinterprets the silence, slowly getting up to leave.

“I-I guess you're busy. It's okay-"

"No!" You shout, and Sunwoo hears your echo without his phone. He hears you stuttering an apology and then, "Give me ten minutes…"

The image of the whole complete group in his head makes his heart warm. He nods. "Take as much time as you need. I'll be waiting."

SEVEN: STICKS AND GEMS

"I didn't know you got your license,” you finally address after a song ends. “And a car.”

"There were a lot of places I wanted to go to. It's more convenient to drive.” 

Some of those words are true; Sunwoo just left out the part about how he wishes that someday, you’ll be a part of the said drives. You would be in the front seat, helping him with navigation, and he would take pictures of everyone, mostly you. A trip was supposed to happen as a graduation present for the four of you. But with three left, it didn't seem worth it to go anymore.

With how crowded the festival is compared to years ago, it’s a miracle that Sunwoo was able to find parking. You do have to thank the children for being tired earlier, leaving a few bays free. Millie and Eric holler across the street, the girl jumping into your arms after crossing. While you're occupied with Millie’s arm around your neck dragging you into the festival, Sunwoo took a breather with your retreating figure.

“Wasn't so hard now, was it?” Sunwoo rolls his eyes at Eric's grin. “You gonna tell Millie to stop stealing your girlfriend?” 

“Wha-” Sunwoo sputters. “She's not my girlfriend.”

“Alright,” Eric shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

Eric’s grin stays on for the rest of the night as the two boys follow you and Millie behind. Sunwoo has his hand tucked into his hoodie pocket from the wind. His hood also shielded his face from the night breeze. Yet, it's not enough to hide his fond eyes and mellow smile if you turned back. Nothing could hold Sunwoo back from showing you that look, so if you did turn back, he would be completely exposed with no proper excuse for why his cheeks were dusted like the sunset’s pink.

Your gasp takes his out of his trance, feet ready to run and take your hand incase of danger. When he follows the object of surprise, he exhales with relief.

“Tornado potatoes!” You run out from Millie’s embrace, joining the long queue of the food truck. 

It's a signature food of the core memory between you both. Even without you for the past years, he has never forgotten to grab a stick for himself. Knowing you’re safe, Sunwoo retreats his foot from running.

A couple of nudges to his hip have him turning to the culprit. “Go accompany her in line.” Millie raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Don't be a coward, Sunwoo.”

Sunwoo’s mouth opens, ready to come up with a thousand excuses on why he shouldn't, but he takes all of them back. Because he wants to. He wants to accompany you in line. He wants to be with you, even if it's just for a few seconds. So he nods without complaint, not looking back to the couple.

"Damn," Eric crosses his arms, impressed. "Our boy is still as whipped as before."

"Arguably even more." Millie squints her eyes at the faraway couple, particularly Sunwoo, who has an adoring gaze stuck on you. "He's an idiot."

"They're both idiots," Eric corrects. "I say we leave my lovesick cousin and best friend and have fun ourselves."

Millie is delighted with the suggestion, linking Eric by his arm away from you and Sunwoo. Meanwhile, you’re occupied with the spices, oil and fried goodness in the air when Sunwoo makes his appearance known. You jolt with widened eyes, slowing softening into a pair of crescents. 

“Don't go running off like that,” he courageously takes your left hand with his right. “You worry me.”

The physical touch leaves you speechless, warmth rising to your cheeks. You spare him a curt nod before looking away to hide your flustered look. 

“Sorry, I haven't eaten this in ages, so I’m excited.”

“Rock, paper, scissors and the loser pays?”

The deal is sealed after three rounds, and Sunwoo’s wallet is closer to zero. As you're distracted with your win, he doesn't miss the opportunity to tighten his hold on you, continuing with light conversation as the line progressively gets shorter. Holding Sunwoo’s hand becomes normal, and you forget how it feels without. You eventually let go for a better grip on the almost empty stock, not leaving a single worth of cent behind. 

Now, you're exploring the place with Sunwoo beside you. Your shoulders occasionally bump into each other, knuckles likewise brushing. All this sends Sunwoo's heart reeling, craving your touch even more. Eric and Millie are unreachable, as expected. Sunwoo grumbles curses to your cousin after reading his peace sign emoji text, knowing this is all a set-up. You all agreed to meet up along the shore a few minutes before the fireworks show, but for now, he'll take this opportunity with you.

“Where should we go?”

Sunwoo shakes his head, pocketing his phone to give you his full attention. “Anywhere you want.”

His hand is back into yours, unaware of the effect it has on you. You found it difficult to focus on the stalls and decorations with your being so close to Sunwoo. Your gait is throwing you off-centre, feeling the boy's deep chuckle beside you by his hold.

“Want a piggyback ride?” 

“No!” You would have taken it as it would be an opportunity to hide yourself but your heart cannot take any more than right now.

“Someone's excited,” an elderly voice calls out. 

"Grandma Lee!" You run over to the stall with the familiar face. "You're still here!"

"Of course! You know that handmade accessories are my life!"

"And I'm so glad it has stayed that way!" 

Grandma Lee spares a greeting to Sunwoo, which was reciprocated, bowing to the woman with respect. You were both regulars at her annual stall. Grandma Lee sells handmade hair accessories with fine precision and detail. Her hard work always leads to her supply being out of stock in most festivals she's at, and it's no surprise to either of you. Sunwoo and you always spent the rest of your money here following food, and with the designs in front of you today, it seems like today will follow the trend from previous years. 

"I haven't seen you in so long, dear," referring to your absence. "Sunwoo told me you've been studying abroad and are very busy."

You're surprised to hear that. Not because of her caring nature, but because Sunwoo talked about you. "Yes, I’ve been abroad," stealing side glances to Sunwoo as he busied himself with the designs in front of him. 

"I'm sure you have been working very hard! Please take one as a gift!" 

"Oh no, it's okay-"

"Follow my words, dear. Hard work should always be rewarded. I'm sure you have been working very hard that you haven’t been able to come home.” 

You wish you could open your heart to rebut how untrue it was. You were close to doing so until the elderly woman stood from her chair, reaching over to pat your head. 

All words blur under her care. "Thank you…” With a satisfied nod from the kind elderly, you begin to search the racks and shelves of handmade accessories. 

The contemplation is written all over your face, so Grandma Lee tries to help. "I recommend these because they’re different designs from what Sunwoo has gotten you before.”

The boy next to you freezes, his eyes intentionally looking towards the end of the table closer to his claim. His fingers slip away from yours, lips growing dry as he tries to ignore your stare. You gulp and turn away, eyes running through the designs to distract yourself.

The truth is, whenever you visit this place with Sunwoo, he has never gotten you anything. He wanted to, but you always beat him to the payment first. So Grandma Lee’s words could only really mean one thing.

"You bought me things?" You finally ask with a tender voice, still not looking at him. 

Sunwoo’s nod just caught on your peripheral. “I'm sorry if that makes you feel uncomfortable. I wanted to send it over but then always wanted to give it to you face to face, and I know I should have just sent it over because that would have been more special to receive it straight away but-”

"Hey, hey,” your palm blankets the back of his hand, thumbs soothing across his knuckles. You keep your eyes to your hands. “I’m just thinking about how you thought of me…”

His heart breaks at that. Of course, you would think this way. After all, he's the person that would leave you on delivered, sometimes, seen for ages after promising to stay in close touch. The pain on your side isn't truly understood until now when, just by one look, Sunwoo could tell that you're holding your tears back. Your hands shake, breath doing the same. 

“I always think of you,” he confessed genuinely. “Always.”

You don't know why you think you had to search his eyes for any lies when you finally lock yours with his. “Me too,” you confess back. “I always think about you too.”

Those simple words mean everything to him and you. Lighthearted laughter fills the atmosphere while Grandma Lee sits away to give you both space. She reminisces her youth and love now far away through the two young adults who have their fingers intertwined fondly. Joint attention is now back on her work. With how much Sunwoo asks you to reconsider your choice, it gets you wondering what he has bought for you, and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

In the end, Grandma Lee gave you more than just a hair clip, not letting you or Sunwoo spend anything on her priceless work. You’re both left with a pout on your lips when she wouldn’t even accept the offer of buying some warm food to munch on. The woman even joked about calling security if you didn't leave immediately. After giving your hands a light and reassuring squeeze, you promised to visit next year and left. An enveloping hug is the only thing she would accept from you both, but that’s all the woman wants from her most loyal customers. 

Sunwoo’s phone is bombarded with texts from Eric telling him that he’s by the shore, readying for the fireworks in around half an hour. “Do you want to grab any quick snacks before meeting up?”

“I should be fine,” occupied by the small bag of goods in your hands. 

You’re barely paying attention to your path, and Sunwoo has to distribute his attention to you and the crowd around him. This would surely be a good reason to hold your hand, right? It’s for your safety, and he’s worried about you. After another moment of contemplation, Sunwoo acted on his thoughts, slithering his right arm around your lower back and resting his palm on your waist. He pulls you closer to him, and you almost drop everything.

In this way, walking through the crowd becomes easier, even with shaky legs at the subtle touches on the dip of your waist, similar motions like the one you gave him earlier. Kim Sunwoo is learning from you. Your confidence rubbed onto him, and you relished the way your bodies were close to each other despite making walking a difficult task.

The plastic bag that was near your chest lowers to your thigh as you now pay attention to Sunwoo’s cologne, stealing glances without moving your head too much. He’s busy looking around for Eric and Millie, as you busy yourself with his well-sculpted features. Sunwoo’s touch didn’t do much in terms of making you more aware of your surroundings, but with you in his arms, it’s much safer than before.

“Oh. My.” Millie tugs on Eric’s sleeves, her jaw dropped by you and Sunwoo close together.

Eric blinks at the sight. “Well, that happened.” Millie slaps Eric’s bicep in excitement. “Yes, baby, we’re all excited.” The two quickly rush to make space on the blanket.

Millie pats the space on her left for you, a smirk on her face which makes you mouth her to leave you alone. To Millie, waiting for you to take your shoes off felt like a lifetime. She pulls you down by an arm, a knowing eyebrow rising as you swat your hand in the air. 

Sunwoo takes his place next to your left quietly, knees folding to his chest, “So nice to have all four of us here.”

“Well,” the girl beside you starts, “for now.”

“Millie, stop ruining the moment!” You reprimanded. 

Sitting down side by side resurfaces memories. It's warming when you think about how you are all connected by this event: Millie meeting Eric here when she was working at one of the stalls and you meeting Sunwoo a year after. It's like everything wanted you all to be together. In the vast view where the waves sing with the birds at sunset, they wanted you all to sit together to admire the changing time.

Sunwoo’s fingers traced along the zipper of his camera bag, contemplating taking it out. The waves sparkle under the golden rays, and it’s breathtaking. However, it’s not breathtaking enough to take his attention away from the person beside him. Your smile makes it harder for him to divert his eyes away. Eric eyes the bag to reassure the boy before redirecting his eyes to you. Sunwoo chuckles instead of cursing at him, finally setting his camera. 

Sunwoo first starts with capturing the calmer waves and landscapes. Eric followed, ready with multiple poses, and then he and Millie as per the former’s request. There's a playful scowl on his face when the couple displays their affection in public, but at the back of his head, he can't help but be healthily jealous of the love they share. Satisfied with his work, Sunwoo clicks through his masterpiece, mentally choosing which to print for his photo album.

You lean over to his screen, “You've still got it,” complimenting his skills. “I'm glad to see that you still love photography. It has always been your hidden passion in high school.”

“Couldn't let go of it,” Sunwoo nods. “Hence the store as well.”

He shifts his seating position from you, stopping near the edge of the blanket. The lens reflects your face, Sunwoo clicking multiple times to your random poses. You’ve always been a natural when it comes to taking pictures. For you, the photographer is an important factor in the quality of your picture. There’s no way you could fully relax if you didn’t know the person behind the camera well. Because of that, you haven’t gotten your picture taken by anyone for a long time, yet it feels like second nature when Sunwoo gives you pointers on what he should do as he adjusts his settings. Again, his work never lets you down.

“You should sign up for competitions again like what you did in high school.”

“I did. Four of them.” Sunwoo powers his camera off, spreading his legs out with his hands behind him for support. “I won them all.”

“Sunwoo!” You exclaim, clapping generously for him. “I knew it! You should hang up the certificate or trophies at work! And the pieces you won along with it!”

“N-No, it's embarrassing…”

“No, it's a good idea! You not only have the technical knowledge for cameras but also photography skills. I'm sure a lot of people will love it and be assured that the owner has a clear talent for photography as well!”

Your compliments make Sunwoo retreat his blushing face behind his propped-up arms on his knees. “M-Maybe,” he takes the credits. “Want to see the pieces? I have them here.”

In a heartbeat, you nod at his offer. Sunwoo walks you through the failed photos, telling you the reasons and how he made the next shots better. You’re used to seeing portraits as it was Sunwoo’s specialty. Knowing that his skills have comfortably extended to landscapes makes you immensely proud of the immersed boy in his hobby.

Amid conversations and the dropping temperature, your body searches for warmth, unconsciously resting your head on Sunwoo's shoulder. Beside you, Sunwoo lays the side of his head on top of yours, relaxing at how you paid attention to all his words. The saltiness of the sea is washed out by your perfume and shampoo, and it took everything for him to not turn his head to yours to press a quick kiss. 

It’s only when the sky explodes with warm, bright colours that you lean away, allowing his heart to come back to normal rhythm. However, like before, his eyes are stuck on your side profile. His fingers jitters, close to lifting themselves for his lens, but he helps the urge down. He decides to keep this scene for himself. 

Sunwoo wants to share your beauty with the world, eyelashes fluttering with regretful blinking at missing a millisecond of the fireworks. He wants to show you off, but he wants to keep this scene to himself.

Humans can be selfish sometimes. And Kim Sunwoo is human. 

You’re aware of the eyes falling upon you, so you attend to them to see Sunwoo’s affectionate eyes. Your breath hitches at the sweetness dripping from his orbs, and you pay attention to the colours of the sky painting their way to his honey-like skin.

“You’re really pretty.” Sunwoo’s deep voice resonates in the air. When he realises his words, his cheeks turn a deep red.

“Sunwoo…”

His hand lightly directs your head back to his shoulder, giving him the comfort that he needs. “Stay close to me, please,” his voice weakening with each second. He gulps the bile down his throat. “I’m sorry that I was cold yesterday when you visited the store. I’m sorry…” Sunwoo repeats the apology a few more times, and you lift your head away from him.

Sunwoo bites his bottom lip, unable to face you in shame. Unexpectedly, a palm cups his cheek, tilting his face to you, “I forgive you, Woo.” Your thumb pulls on the skin of his chin to release the bite. “Stay close to me, okay?”

A final nod is all he manages to give. With bodies gravitating towards each other and hearts lighter, you watch the sky bloom with sparks that reflect on your orbs. To you, Kim Sunwoo is in your peripheral view, but to him, you’re at the centre of his. 

EIGHT: SEALED DEAL

As per Eric and Millie’s hopes, Sunwoo is the one to drop you home. Millie makes you promise to video call when you settle back home, and you roll your eyes playfully, promising the girl anyway, with whatever she wants to talk about. Now, you’re back in Sunwoo’s passenger seat.

"When did you open the store?"

It's a question that you're curious about and you find that after tonight, starting a conversation with Sunwoo is much easier.

"I worked for a year and a half after graduation and spent all my savings on it.” 

He remembers the time of taking transport in the humid summer, missing the bus to bathe in his sweat. In winter, he would bathe in his sweat on the bed, fighting a fever. All of it turns into fond memories during silence in the store, reminiscing his little efforts that went a long way and paid off.

"Eric and Millie helped with the decorating.” Sunwoo was about to stop there. Until, “It would have been better if you were with us.”

It's a mutual feeling. How will you even begin to make up for that lost time? You give him a slow nod, lost in your thoughts. "It was really lonely abroad. I had friends and a lot of company, but something was missing."

The red light halts the car, and the sound of the engine rests for a little while. It's not until now that Sunwoo can finally steal a side glance at you. Your hair frames your face, and even though he's unable to get a proper look because of the night, he can hear your nails clashing anxiously against each other.

"Like?" He dared to continue, and he had to bite his tongue to reprimand himself. 

"Millie's mischief, Eric's energy," your fingers stop moving, "and everything about you."

The green light pumps the engine back to life, the buzzing filling the air once more with another layer. You didn't expect an answer from Sunwoo. You're just glad you got your feelings out.

“You’re here now. It’s better now, right?” 

Your head whips to his side, and for the first time, Sunwoo’s lips stretch from ear to ear genuinely. “Right,” you answer with a mirroring facial expression.

This is it. This is the Kim Sunwoo that you know.

The rest of the ride is mixed with light singing and swaying. Sunwoo kept the beat by tapping his finger on the wheel and you on your thigh. You tried your best to keep yourself interested in the scenery outside, but with the mellow, higher tone that Sunwoo sings with the love songs on the radio, he eventually becomes your scenery. It's only halfway through one of the songs when Sunwoo gradually turns the volume down, the uninviting tall black gates causing his engine to halt. You stay in your seat, reasoning to stay until the song is over. But two, three and four songs pass after your claim.

Sunwoo had an idea of why you're rooted on the seat of his car. If he could, he would drive you back to his house, somewhere you loved to spend time, for the rest of the night. Yet, the last time he did that was really the last time. He couldn't stop blaming himself for that day he took your freedom away with the introduction of stricter curfews and rules.

"You should go in. It's going to be curfew soon,” he finally managed to say.

"Oh, right..." Your voice trails off with disappointment. Your hands take the latch of his car door to exit, and you're ready to pull until he stops you.

Per his request, you stay seated as Sunwoo exits instead. Your head follows his figure, disappearing when he takes something from the back of the car. Sunwoo comes around your side of the door, opening it for you. Other than the smile that reaches his eyes, his gratefulness for today is conveyed with the bouquet he prepares in his hands. Your lips parted at the colourful petals. 

“I was supposed to give this to you before, but I was just so flustered and now they look ugly and destroyed and I'm so sorry and-"

"They're pretty. Thank you, Sunwoo,” you reassure his worried rambles. Sunwoo extends his hands to you, hands brushing at the exchange. "Can you take a picture of me with them?"

Surely his phone has space for one more photo. Don't fail on me now phone! And fail it didn't, as he was able to quickly delete an app for immediate storage. As expected, Sunwoo directs you with poses and angles, snapping the best shots of you and his gift. You're left scrolling at the new pictures sent to your phone, feet tapping on the cement excitedly.

You pocket your phone, taking a moment to appreciate the flowers in front of you. The sweet scent surrounds you, and you push the gift closer to your chest. Some petals fall, withering from time. As much as you want to think you have more time than them, you don't know what the future holds. 

So you at least try to control a bit. You want to make up for the lost time somehow.

"Can I come to help you at work tomorrow?” The suggestion is followed by rustling plastic by your hold. “I promise I won't bother and actually help."

It's an interesting request to Sunwoo. If he agrees, then he would be able to see you more. "It's your holiday. You should be relaxing."

"Being with you is relaxing,” you state surely. “I just want to be around you."

"How about I pick you up after work?”

"How about you just let me work with and help you tomorrow?”

Sunwoo chuckles, knowing he won't win against you. Besides, losing to you on this isn't a bad idea. He leans over to you slightly, bending his back to reach eye level and towering over you. "The moment you distract me, you're out."

The way your eyes lit up from his words is a sight that he wants to see all the time. "Deal!"

NINE: TRACED FEELINGS

Despite looking forward to the next day, maybe you were looking forward a bit too intensely, as you couldn’t fall asleep fast. As a result of your overexcitement, you overslept and are indeed running late. Regardless, you still willed your legs to dash to the bus stop and shop to avoid ‘clocking in’ later.

“Morning!”

“You’re late.” Sunwoo tries to be stern, but his facade breaks seconds after with a welcoming smile.

“Now you know how the teachers felt like in high school with you,” the boy concedes, hands up in the air. “What am I helping you with today?”

“It’s getting a bit busier, so I’ll get you on POS, unpack some deliveries and record appointments for photoshoots or any of the sort that anyone needs.”

“Sounds good to me!” You skip your way behind the front desk, setting the space for the day.

Sunwoo being Sunwoo, you're not surprised at the clutter. He manages to keep the rest of the store clean, but how does he even function with all this scattered paperwork? You can't even see the material of the table, and you're convinced the folders below the papers are for decoration. 

“Guess I'll start by cleaning and sorting this out then.” 

You don't get far with your cleaning, only grabbing a few sheets draped against his stationary cup until a picture frame comes into view. The pictures are sized smaller than usual to make maximal use of the frame. Upon closer inspection, you recognise most of these pictures as the ones on your phone: the late night getaways, the sleepovers, the birthdays and Christmas Eves, the prom and the graduation photos. They're all here. 

What really stood out? Most of them were only you and Sunwoo, and not group ones with Eric and Millie. 

“I wasn't the only one who kept them…” 

For the longest time, you thought so. You thought that you were the only one who cared to swipe through the photos. You're starting to get a clear picture now that Sunwoo didn't truly cut you out of his life despite limited texts. Yet, that only deepens your confusion even more. 

Why would he have this if it at least felt like he was trying to avoid you?

You push the thought aside at the approaching customer. You try to be enthusiastic despite the questions in your head, keeping a mental note to ask Sunwoo later. Maybe the universe heard your silent pleas to keep yourself intact from your worries as customers rushed in to keep you busy. Sunwoo himself becomes increasingly busy on the floor, while you support his business with your limited photography knowledge.

Sunwoo exceeded his daily goal; no surprise from the accumulated sweat on his forehead and neck. You slump your body onto the table, cheeks chasing the surface for coolness. Your mouth is desperate for hydration after talking non-stop with the higher pitch that comes with customer service. Just like he's reading your thoughts, he hands you a bottle, which you gladly gulp the contents of. 

A satisfactory sigh comes after emptying half the bottle, “That was refreshing.”

“Was busier than I thought. It was a good idea to have you here. You even cleaned up the space.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn't work with it,” he shakes his head fondly at your slightly lecturing tone.

“You should go eat. We didn't manage to have a proper break.”

It's only now that you notice the sunset illuminating the upper half of the store. The emptiness in your stomach makes itself known when it grumbles, and Sunwoo tries to hold his laughter. It's a calming moment as the sunlight sets on his tanned skin, making your heart skip a beat. His smile is radiant, brighter than the sun. His eyes: clear, unlike the past few cloudy days.

“You really didn't forget about me,” you voice out weakly, a smile lifting just the same. Your fingers trace the curves of the frame, gulping silently. “I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”

You expect Sunwoo to change the subject, or at least let the subject die quicker with a fast reply. But instead he fishes for his phone in his pocket, “My laptop and phone wallpaper are us too."

Your eyes shift to his genuine voice. However, you could no longer make out the emotions behind his eyes. Sunwoo reveals his phone’s lock screen, and he minimises apps to show his desktop wallpaper. He observes you next to him, making sure he catches every little detail on your face as you set your eyes upon his personalisation. You’re mesmerised at the number of pictures that he has, some you've never seen before. Your upper body bends over closer to the desktop to observe each shot. 

"This is where we first met,” pointing at the familiar beach shore. "My favourite place in the whole world.”

Is it a coincidence that it's yours too?

“Well, second,” Sunwoo takes back. Your eyebrows furrow at the changed ranking. “Wanna know the first?” You nod, expecting more words from him, words mixed with pictures of his number one place.

Instead, you got it all through actions. Sunwoo steps behind your seating form, his arms enclosing you around your waist. The back of your head rests against his broad chest, heartbeat resonating to you while he buries his face into the crook of your neck. Your perfume indulges him into relaxation despite his daring act, but your skin heats up when you grow aware of his hand slightly hovering your clothed stomach.

“This is my first,” he rasps out. “Being in your presence.” 

You stutter in your breathing, eyes welling up in the same way that your chest is filled with contentment. The feeling surges throughout every part of your body, and it’s only when you fully give your weight over to him that Sunwoo intertwines his fingers from both hands, pulling you into his embrace closer. 

But it’s not enough. For him, it’s not close enough.

He’s forced to let go. The seat you’re on spins around, and you hold onto Sunwoo’s shoulders for support. Sunwoo lowers his body, sweeping you off your feet with an arm supporting the back of your thighs as he now sits on the cushion. Instinctively, your right arm encircles his neck, and in the next second, you’re comfortably taking a seat on Sunwoo’s lap. Sunwoo makes sure you don’t slide off with his right hand supporting your left thigh near his knee. His left arm stays around your back, making sure you won’t fall backward either. His plump lips brush against your jawline delicately, and you notice his breathing smoothing out as he rests against you. Mindlessly, your index finger traces his nape, drawing random shapes on his skin, occasionally massaging his scalp to relax his muscles. It seems like Sunwoo couldn't get enough of your touch, arms pulling your lower body flush against his until he no longer could. 

“Is this okay?” With his nod, he allows himself to find solace in your presence, and you eventually slide your hand to ruffle and mess with his hair.

Close contact like these is not unusual. In the past, in a crowd full of people or no one but air, you would dash towards Sunwoo the same way. Your voice would call out for him first, letting your presence known from afar before jumping into his figure. Every morning before school, bear hugs and back hugs are common occurrences. But ever since you told Sunwoo about moving, the skinship was reduced to holding hands and brief hugs. As it became routine, you forgot just how fast your heart could beat just by the two hands on your body. You don’t hate it though, not one bit.

“Sunwoo?” 

“Hmm?”

“Can I please see you?” You're worried all of this is a dream.

“Just a little more.” His nose nudges your neck. “I don't want this to end now…”

You feel the same way, playing with the ends of his hair soothingly. Sunwoo almost dozes off at the occasional traces on his skin, heart content with your little hums. 

“It’s been years since you’ve held me this close.” Your voice surprisingly didn't waver at your emotions. Tears are brimming along your eyelids, but a blink pushes them back to hide them. “I missed you holding me close like this.”

“I missed it more,” he whispers to your skin. 

“We don't have to end the day together now…” You felt his lips stretching against your skin with the suggestion.

“That's true,” his eyes lulling to close once more. You didn’t expect him to agree, pulling your neck away to face his blushing face with widened eyes. “Let’s not end the day together now, hm?”

You agree immediately, fearing that he would take back his words if not. The boy connects his forehead with yours. The proximity makes your fingers shake, eyes jolting to anywhere but his well-defined features. Sunwoo too, knowing that this is the first time in a while that he’s holding you so close, flutters his eyes shut to focus on the lines you’re trailing on his skin, lulling between consciousness and dreamland. 

If only he paid attention to the path of your fingers, he would have known the eight letters that you have always kept deeply within, the third and seventh letter replaced with a heart.

TEN: COOLED TEA AND MOMENTS

Sunwoo’s home is quaint, just like how you remembered it. During those times after school when the library overwhelmed you, his bedroom was where he would tuck you in for an afternoon nap. His back leaned against his bedframe on the floor, playing games with no sound. After a well-deserved slumber, Sunwoo will tickle you awake. Sometimes, amid the booming laughter, the boy would get pulled into the mattress, toppling next to you as you use this chance to close your eyes once more on his chest. Occasionally, Eric and Millie would catch his adoring eyes at your smushed cheek. The couple would get a threatening glare, but they knew Sunwoo couldn’t move unless he wanted to wake you up.

His house is nowhere as big as yours, yet the love inside is bigger than any other building you know. Some of the furniture has shifted, some replaced. For you, the feeling of being safe in the place that you’re supposed to call home is unfamiliar. 

Here, a step into his house is enough to know that it’s filled with love. 

The evidence hung on the walls, capturing fond memories of the family of a nervous boy trailing behind you who quietly observes your reactions. It’s arranged thoughtfully, a framed memory since he was a baby up to now where he poses for a picture behind the till of his shop. 

Sunwoo observes your smile growing each time your eyes move to a different part of the house. From the wall where he would blush when you pointed out how sulky he looks with the bucket hat, the dustless sofa, snow white cupboards, to the neatly arranged flower on the centre of the dining table, just enough for his family and one guest. It’s evident that, once again, the owner takes immense care of their home.

It’s so unlike your house, where there would be expensive art pieces placed in what you always thought to be the most inconvenient places—or maybe that’s just because you’re clumsy. Your mother’s glare from the upper levels whenever a person walked in the door would make them cower, having their hands tightly held together in front of their bodies, and a mental note taken not to ruin the house.

You continue inside the house with Sunwoo's guidance, careful of the furniture and making sure that you don’t touch anything that you’re not supposed to. Observing the behaviour of many guests in your house has caused you to exhibit the same behaviour, generalising each household to be the same. It makes Sunwoo giggle when you fold the silhouette of your outfit closer to the centre of your body. 

“W-What?” You look back with pursed lips. “I don’t want to accidentally drop anything.”

“You’re not going to,” he comments, making a turn to the kitchen after giving a fond smile. “I don’t have much to drink.”

“It’s okay. Just water is fi—”

“So,” he turns his back to you, opening one of the overhead cabinets to grab some sweet white grains, “you don’t want cooled tea?”

It leaves you warm to hear Sunwoo recite your favourite beverage like that. The little satisfaction smirk he gives when he knows you well, the way he rolls his long sleeves up to his elbows to reveal his defined veins as he fills the kettle for the teabags, all leave you breathless. He isn’t doing anything significant, yet the pounding against your chest is telling you otherwise. As you know, the heart never lies.

You halt in the living room. The black screen of the television dimly reflects your figure; Sunwoo just caught barely on the side. Unknowingly, you stare at his reflection, your eyebrows relaxing and the corners of your lips rising to the music passing his lips. You catch a glimpse of his puckered lips as he whistles; it makes you wonder what he’s thinking about to make such a cheerful timbre.

It makes you wonder if he ever thinks about you as much as you think of him.

“Hey,” the metal spoon stops clinking against the glass, Sunwoo diverting his eyes to you. “Do you mind if I move the coffee table?”

Sunwoo cranes his head to one side at the question, but to your wide grin, who was he to break your interesting desire to move furniture? Besides, he’s curious about your idea as well, especially with the way that frees your hands at his approval, discarding your items onto his couch and dirty carpet. 

The new arrangement leaves the space between the couch and the television empty, big enough for you to twirl around freely. Sunwoo arches his eyebrows, still trying to figure out your intentions. Two mugs clink against the moved table, his hands on his waist after. A doting and affectionate gaze falls upon you. The boy sees your arms swing side to side, eyes sparkling brightly at him when you turn around from the moment of freedom.

When was the last time you smiled like this?

“You look happy,” he comments, only to have you take fast, small strides toward him. When his hand is within reach, you take it into yours. “What are you doi—”

It's a bit awkward and very timid. Sunwoo’s shoulder freezes, and he almost faceplants on the wooden floor with the pull you exert unexpectedly. “Dance with me,” you suggested, guiding his open palms on the dips of your waist, “for old time's sake.” 

A quick, cloudy flash passes his eyes, contrasting your brighter, clearer ones. For a moment, your smile slips away when he averted his focus as quickly as his protective instincts that balanced him from falling. You didn’t let go of his hand that was loosely on the side of your body, and Sunwoo gulps at the tightening hold.

“Don’t be nervous,” you assure him after the evident gulp travelling down his dry throat. “We’ve danced like this before at our graduation party.”

Sensing the tension in the air, Sunwoo clears his throat. “I-I haven't showered for like two days,” a measly excuse for you to give his yearning heart a moment to breathe. “This is embarrass—”

“Sunwoo, are you happy?” 

It comes out a little croaked, a little suffocating on your end. Your heart clenches at the distance he has maintained since you left. It’s nothing like high school when he would search for your eyes amidst crowding hallways and classrooms, looking forward to having you in his arms. It’s nothing like high school because your bodies are still, and there seems to be no sort of longing in his eyes like yours does for hi—

“I am,” a quiet breath drew in from his nose, “very.” 

The tears that were about to fall onto your frowning face seem to retreat. Your eyes trail up from his chest, reluctantly meeting his eyes, scared of what emotion he may show you when you get there. However, when you do meet the glimmering orbs that you fell in love with more than three years ago, it does feel like youth washes over you again.

It feels like you never left and that you just finished your graduation a few minutes ago. 

Sunwoo nods firmly, his lips slowly but surely showing the same crescent smile that his eyes have. Your chest relaxes, lowering along with your shoulders. It hurts him to know that he may have hurt you. He rakes his head for ideas, wanting more than nothing for you to feel comfort in his presence, in his arms—safe and happy, just like how he wishes that you would always be.

Sunwoo relaxes in your presence, completely letting go of the weight in his mind and heart for the first time in three years. It makes your breath hitch, stopping your inhale mid-way. Though his larger hand is still shaking on your waist, his thumb still manages to give soothing rubs. His left foot takes a step to the side, his right following with the motions, inviting you to start moving too. Sunwoo unclasps your hands behind his neck, taking one of them into his hand. 

Your breath stutters once more when he cups the back of your hand, placing your palm to his cheek. It’s a place that you didn’t expect that you could lay your touch on, but Sunwoo guiding it there willingly sends your emotions into a frenzy that only amplifies more when he closes his eyes and lays his lips onto your open palm like it’s nothing. He plants his palm onto his cheek after, and it took everything in you not to collapse.

“Do that again, Sunwoo…” 

The boy took a good look at you for a while, searching for any reluctance in your eyes. There’s a flash of longing in his eyes when he pulls your lower body closer to his, your arms bending to bring his face closer to yours. Sunwoo places his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and focusing on the cooler air that he inhales. You follow suit, soon feeling his lips on your forehead. The feeling is too short, and it leaves you wanting more.

“Again…” 

Your voice is fragile, and so is your mind as you ask him for another touch. Sunwoo heeds your wants, this time kissing the tip of your nose. He even swipes his nose with yours after, resting his forehead to yours with no intention of pulling away.

“Again…” 

This time, nothing happened. Sunwoo’s bangs rub against your skin as he shakes his head, and he catches your downturned lips.

“I can’t do it again.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might regret the next place that I want to kiss you at.”

He leaves his reasoning open-ended, but you’re not up for that. You lean away from Sunwoo, craning your head slightly to match his height. You’re wrong about you being the only one who longs for him between you two. Sunwoo bites his lips, eyeing the way your lips are only centimetres away from him. The only thing he has to do is to dip his head down, and he would claim your soft lips for himself. Sunwoo doesn’t make his staring subtle, and you’re left pulling him closer by his nape to press a peck onto the tip of his nose this time.

It’s all so heart-stopping for you, and it reminds you that Kim Sunwoo has never left your heart. Just a few days back, and he still had the key to your heart.

“I won’t,” you affirm with a voice only louder than the shoes that glaze over the carpet beneath you both. 

The little world you built for yourself bursts with the doorbell. The sound clangs him awake, making his eyes widen, almost as if he wasn’t aware of the slow dancing that you two were sharing. He rips himself out of your warmth, and your limbs freeze mid-air where you once held him at the harsh pull.

He looks away, eyes tightly shut as he curses himself in his head. “M-Maybe my dad forgot the key!” Running away from you—as he has always done from the very start.

Peeking through the peephole, it’s obvious from the leather jacket that it’s not the person that he is expecting. The unknown visitor churns his stomach, his instincts telling him that this situation isn’t going to be a good one for him. When he opens the door, Sunwoo is greeted with the smell of money in the form of a bright outfit and gold touches. 

“May I help you?” 

He manages to greet the stranger after a single gulp, feeling small with the huge sunglasses that cover half of the visitor’s face. Sunwoo didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the intimidating, judging ones directed at him from the lavish man who finally flicks his sunglasses off, a pair of stone-cold eyes behind it.

“Where is she?”

Taken aback by the lack of mannerisms, Sunwoo stutters before his train of thought comes back. The uninvited guest clad himself in a branded suit, mocking Sunwoo’s casual attire. Even so, status is forgotten when his instincts tell him to shut the door alarmingly. A raised eyebrow and a striking peer from the intruder prompt the feeling even more. 

“Sorry, but I’m going to ask you to leave.”

An amused scoff, “Excuse me?” Tucking his luxurious eyewear into his blazer’s pocket, “Answer my questi—”

“Sungjin?”

Sunwoo turns his body towards your wavering voice. As soon as his eyes laid on your figure that was approaching the door’s threshold, a part of him just wanted to grab your wrist, praying that you wouldn’t step outside his home. But you did all that for him because you stayed frozen a few centimetres away from the front sill of the building, shock written all over your face and voice.

The finally named man finally shows his bright smile, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of your uninjured state—he, however, did frown at the sight of your casual clothes. “Hey,” greeting you and ignoring Sunwoo’s shaking orbs, “You were unreachable and I was worri—”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I tracked your phone.” Your heart drops at the invasion of privacy. The device around your fingers feels like it could mould to a different shape due to your anger. “You have to understand! You weren't responding to my messages!”

“Sungjin…” you shake your head, your eyes talking for you in this incredible situation, “We're not anything for you to be able to do that.”

“I know, but I promised your parents that I’ll protect you and make you mine.” He trips over his words, his polished shoe even coming into contact with the wooden floor of Sunwoo’s entrance walkway. “Besides that, I'm just worried about you. Let's get out of this dirty place. I'll get you some foo—”

“I'm staying.”

“What?”

Your palm extends out towards him, and the barrier keeps you away from the crestfallen face that he displays. “Please just...” you reach the door, beginning to close it on him, “leave me alone.”

Throughout the whole confrontation, Sunwoo held onto the door for support and his whole being focused on the words exchanged. So, when you’re the one who decides to swing the door with your strength, Sunwoo nearly stumbles and faceplants onto one of the panels of the decorated timber. A silence envelops you both, the boy taking glances at you before quickly averting once more. It’s not until the sound of the tyres drives away from his driveway that Sunwoo decides to replace the sound with something softer than the shouts of the angry engine. 

“You have a boyfr—”

“I'm not dating him, Sunwoo,” cutting his words off quickly. “I don't like him even a little bit.”

He does believe you; he really does. But having a taste of your mother’s wrath, he couldn’t help but nod at the ant that casually passed by the tension-filled atmosphere. “L-Let’s get you out of here…” Snatching his jacket on the arms of the hanger to the point that the furniture almost fell out of balance. “I'll take you to a nice restaur—”

“I want to cook,” you declare, stopping his fumbles. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten food without preservatives.”

“I don't have any ingredients…”

“I'll bake then,” turning your back to the exit and your ‘duties’. Already a step ahead of Sunwoo, you plant your feet in the kitchen where the jar of sugar used earlier still hasn’t been returned. “I'll whip up some of those shortbread cookies that Eric, Millie, and you loved so much back then.”

“You really shouldn't be her—”

“Can I borrow some clothes?” Condensation starts to form on your hands and wraps around the glass jar in your hand. Your voice quietens. “It's too uncomfortable to bake in this.” 

You turn your back on Sunwoo completely, afraid of rejection first and foremost. To be more specific, you’re scared of being rejected by Sunwoo. You’re stubborn, he knows that---so you hope that he could also be on the same wavelength as you for once and be stubborn by letting you stay. If you turned back, you could see the happiness in his smile, but inevitably, the hint of worry was reserved just for your tense back. 

“Okay,” footsteps receding to his room, a list of his oversized shirts in his head that he could lend to you. “Hold up a second…”

You’re aware that Sunwoo hasn’t been able to see your trembling lips and your massive control to keep your breathing rate consistently normal. When you assume that you’re out of his sight, you let all the tension in your body release, your once-blurred vision clearing as a tear escapes. The room spins slightly, your palm landing firmly onto the stone top in front as droplets start to make themselves evident to his humble home. 

And as Sunwoo comes back, whatever thoughts you had are shoved away to live in the moment with him. He leaves you to change and soon his familiar laundry detergent changes from the perfume scent on your body. The classy perfume is no match for the cheap detergent yet your heart easing at being engulfed with Sunwoo’s baggy clothes.

The familiarity drives you insane, as much as it makes you sane.

ELEVEN: HEARTBREAK OR HEART BREAK?

The drive back to your house is quiet and to put it simply: boring and lonely. After a whole day with mischievous Sunwoo, how could you not feel this way? 

Sunwoo purposefully hits your elbow when you measure the dry ingredients, continuing to do so even when you throw a handful of flour at his face, some even getting trapped in his long black strands. He returns the favour, laying the same ingredient on his palm before bringing it in line with his lips, blowing it straight to your face without notice.

It was fun, to say the least.

The kitchen cleanup was hell, with dry ingredients all over the crevices between the table, the wall and the floor, but also on both of your powdered faces. Dare you say a quarter of your time spent under his roof was cleaning up the mess that left his dad’s jaw slack open with confusion and surprise after a long day at work. You remember scurrying out of Sunwoo’s arms when a gasp is heard from the entry hallway, but Sunwoo tightens his hold on your waist, gleefully greeting his father despite the hits and shoves on his chest.

Just thinking of it makes the heat rise to your skin once more, both your hands on the top of your steering wheel as you continue your drive into the silent night. The way his father remembers you just by the back of your head, inviting you with open arms for a hug, made you melt into his parental warmth. The man even joined in with the chaotic atmosphere, grabbing the pile of flour on the benchtop that was supposed to be in the bin. Sunwoo’s yelps and complaints play in your head, a deep chuckle from his dad following after as he sticks his tongue out.

It was…different, to say the least.

Because your parents would never treat outsiders like that; they wouldn’t even be like that with you. The scene repeats in your head like a broken recorder, but it's one that you would never throw out. Even when you park perfectly in your designated spot, you sit with arms by your side, head between the crescent headrest, with the radio and its song. You stare blankly at the closing black gate, sealing off the entrance for the rest of the day as you know you’re the last member of the family who arrived home. The warm light flashes as a safety measure in the night, telling everyone to be careful of the moving metal—if only the warmth of the light is as inviting as the building beside you.

You flip the sun visor down, making sure that you leave no traces of baking ingredients for anyone to question your appearance. Sighing after checking, your hands blindly ruffle the inside of your bag for the spray bottle of your usual everyday perfume. Before you can flick the crown of the bottle, the remnants of the laundry detergent that isn’t yours linger between the strands of your hair, reminding you of the joy you felt when Sunwoo bashfully passed you a long oversized shirt to borrow. You remember the tips of his ears flashing red and the enamoured smile that took over your face as your fingers traced the raccoon picture on the front of the shirt.

“Cute,” you snicker, continuing to make fun of him in your head.

The cap of the small decanter clicks close and is shoved back into the darkness of your purse. Your heels finally click on the uneven stone, mentally preparing the excuses in your head as you are five minutes past your curfew. If only you knew there was no need to cook up any excuses because you couldn’t even slip your feet out of the straps of your shoe, your mum blocking the staircase where all the bedrooms of the house would be.

No greetings are said, not from you and most definitely not from your mother.

“Come here,” she commanded, inciting a gulp from you as you tried to steady your disordered mind. You stand within reach in front of her, trying your best to look into her emotionless eyes. 

You knew then that she knew what you had been up to.

“Sungjin told me where you were earlier today.” The glare deepens. “Kim Sunwoo.” The name comes out venomously, her arms coming up to the cross, disappointed by the old friend that you spent time with. “Do you wish to be as foolish as that boy?”

The words stir something up in your obedient self. “Is my happiness foolish to you?”

“You're a child, and your definition of happiness has not matured,” she spits out. “Your manners are repulsive. You decide to come to Korea unnoticed, kick Sungjin out and bring shame to the family. You think breaking the rules gives you adrenaline, but in the long run, it's nothing.” You thought it was over until she delivered the final blow, “Especially not with a boy like him.”

“Explain that please, because Sunwoo is not nothing.” You clench on your bag’s strap, the material creaking at the pressure. “He's not just a boy to me.” Your voice grew dangerously louder. “He's held me in his arms, and he wouldn't let go unless I would initiate the first move. He's told me words that make the weight in my chest bearable. He's smiled at me to remind me that the world is not as grim, dark and ugly as I thought it might be. Yes, he’s not perfect, but he’s human, and he’s making an effort to make it better.”

“Foolish,” not a bit of mercy in her tone. “Those are all things that another person can give.”

Your eyelids fall in frustration, shutting them close to rid of the coming headache. Words never worked on your mother, and pairing that with how she hates Sunwoo, you knew nothing would come out of this. “It’ll never be the same,” you mumble under your breath. “Other people will never be him.”

“Thankful for that one,” she heaves an exaggerated relief. “No one should have entered that prestigious high school by kicking a filthy ball.”

"Sunwoo was a star player, mum. He even played for the youth state team. He's more capable than you think, so please stop assuming negative things about him!” You can’t believe that your tone raised, though not dangerously, but it ended sharp enough for a flare to start in her eyes.

The metal around his fingers grazes across the side of your face. “I don’t care what you want from me. You’re going back overseas."

"No,” you stood your ground despite the sting on the side of your face.

“This is your final warning. Go back and never associate yourself with that dog ever again."

"Don't call him that-"

“Hear this then,” you gulp at the sinister smile, her hand lowering away from your face to your hollow chest. “You don’t go back? Fine. But that puny bicycle shop? It's only a couple thousand dollars to buy.” A dark aura reminds you once more of how powerless you are at the bottom of the family hierarchy. The lady of the house made her figure in the house clear when she leans in to your stammering breaths, “Can you handle being the person that crushes his dream?”

TWELVE: FACING THE TRUTH & PROMISES

Your first attempt of telling your friends about moving failed as expected. You couldn’t get your lips to form the right shapes, awkwardly playing it off each time the topic came to mind. The thought of being far away from everyone made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do to follow your parents. The storm in your head causes Millie to jolt at the slam of metal against metal, hand over her chest to grasp her rapidly beating heart. 

"Whoa," she nervously raises an eyebrow with a stiff smile. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," you mumble uninterestedly. Yet your words aren’t uncomfortable when your forehead hits the locker once more. The metal is disgustingly lukewarm; no coolness is provided to your head like you wanted.

"Are you just Sunwoo-deprived?"

You grumble at the teasing tone, "No, I'm not Sunwoo depriv-"

"Because he’s walking down the hallway right now, just so you know."

Your back immediately straightens, head turning everywhere for the messy untucked uniform and loose tie around the neck. To your expectations, some of his hair strands are out of place, and it completes Sunwoo's everyday look. The boy pats his pockets for his phone while you clutch your books against your chest firmly, waiting for him to notice your staring. Usually, you would run up to him, but you're needing assurance from him that it's okay to leap into his arms without any other words.

Millie also stood confused at your still self, turning her head between Sunwoo and you alternatively. She sighs at your fastened foot tapping, deciding to pop on his phone:

    someones waiting for you dumbass

    look up from your phone

Sunwoo's lips form a circle shape, eyes searching for you as he pockets his phone. At the sight of you, his lips curl up, just like his eyes. But then, his expression falls when he catches the pout on your lips and deflated shoulders a few steps away. It’s only when he extends his arms to his side that your foot stops tapping, and you shove your belongings to Millie.

You hop to Sunwoo's arms, leaping onto his arms. "Whoa there," he twirls you briefly with his arms wrapping around your middle. Sunwoo lands you on your feet safely, "Why'd you just stand there today? You usually just run to me."

Your shrug didn't convince Sunwoo, and the fact that you weren't letting go of the hug to bury your face into his chest only complicates him more. Sunwoo hums for now, threading his fingers between your locks.

"You know you can't lie to me, right?" The grip around his body tightens. "When you're ready, I'll listen. Whatever it is."

You nod to his chest, ears against his calming heartbeat. "Promise?"

It's now that Sunwoo realises whatever is troubling you isn't a simple matter. It won't go away with a good night's sleep and not with a hearty meal. You only ask him to promise you when things weigh you down heavily, and the last time you did this was when you pulled all-nighters for an upcoming test. You made him promise to let you take a nap on his shoulder after it was all over.

Sunwoo stops playing with your hair, tenderly placing his palm on the side of your neck. The touch sends shivers down your spine, and you pull away to meet his kind, gentle eyes. His thumb traces along your jawline as he places a kiss on your forehead. All the voices in your head died down, and your mind could finally rest.

That's Kim Sunwoo's effect on you. And it's powerful, just like his words: "Promise."

The sight when you broke the news wasn’t pretty. Eric found out from his dad, and Millie found out by accidentally eavesdropping on Eric confronting you about hiding it for so long. And Sunwoo? Sunwoo was standing not too far away, body still at the news. Of course, he congratulated you, however, he can’t fully say that he meant it. Following the realisation of his growing feelings, he wants you to stay.

The world weighed on you heavily as you drove to Sunwoo’s store. You feel like such a stalker, observing Sunwoo sharing knowledge about his passion to a customer down the street. Last night flashes back, and you can't help but flinch as if your mother’s hand, clad in golden rings, hits your now-healed cheek. You turn away, refusing to remember Sunwoo's bright smile as he waves at the little kid who jumps excitedly at her fixed camera. The mother thanked him before crouching to calm her child from disturbing other people in the store. 

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe because after the satisfied customers leave, Sunwoo feels the attention on him outside. If it was even possible, Sunwoo’s smile expands infinitely at the sight of you. He wouldn’t tell you, but he spent the entirety of last night placing your cookies on his prettiest plate, stacking the perfect circles on the porcelain and shifting icing sugar to make the dish look more photogenic. His camera app dominates his screen time as he takes the physical memory precious time, setting the food as his lock screen and wallpaper- he regrets not taking a photo of you with it.

The muscles under your eyes twitch, feeling a waterfall. Unfortunately, Sunwoo’s eyes aren’t that good at spotting your sadness from across the road, jogging to your car in the empty traffic. You were still drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t realise his approaching presence, eyes dulling then widening slowly with his approaching figure from the corner of your eye. His knuckle taps on the glass to grab your attention, and you roll your window down to face him with slightly quivering lips. 

“Are you stalking me?”

His hair strands are a mess, typical with a towel hanging from his neck and the creased button-up shirt. Sunwoo isn’t afraid to show this side of himself to you. Back in high school, he made it a habit to show up like this because you would be the one fixing his uniform and saving him from detention. 

You prepared the rehearsed smile, forcibly pushing last night’s events out of your head. “Just wanted to see you working…”

Sunwoo raises one of his eyebrows at the unique reason, the corresponding corner of his lip doing the same. He leans in, an arm resting on the gap where the motorised window would be. His bangs dance due to the air conditioning of the car, the strands flowing freely. 

“Kinda creepy, don't you think?” 

He’s truly going to make you faint. One wrong move and his lips would probably be touching yours, and usually, Sunwoo would be the one to back away, but he was so entranced by you that the proximity didn’t even cross his mind. And once you turn away, his smirk flattens, lips disappearing between the rows of his teeth. 

“Are you busy? Can I come in?” The sentence trails off but doesn't manage to go unnoticed by Sunwoo.

Though heartbroken at how you didn’t spare a glance at him, Sunwoo nods and fixes his once-bending posture. “Of course,” he invites you. “It was delivery day today, so it's very messy. Don’t tell me off! It’s not my fault!” 

You give him the benefit of the doubt for now, nodding unconvincingly at him. The boy is prepared to defend himself when the entrance bell rings. You retreat behind the computer, ready to put sales through, while also admiring Sunwoo. The noises surrounding you blur as you keep your eyes on him. Emotions welled up in your throat, your mum’s voice ringing once more. You snap back to the present moment when the customer accidentally drops her film refills.

Sunwoo came standing to your right after. “You alright?”

You nod, but then sigh when you know that you can’t fool Sunwoo into thinking otherwise. “No,” your voice is broken with honesty.

“Let’s talk about it.” He offers, spinning you around to face him. Sunwoo pulls the gas lift on the chair to lower you closer to his eye level when he kneels to you. Your shaky hands on your lap are stabilised with Sunwoo’s blanketing them. “I’m all ears for you, hm?”

“Maybe later, customers might come in and-”

“You’re right. I should flip the sign to ‘closed’-”

“Don’t do that, you lazy raccoon.” 

The animal nickname that you gave him slipped out unexpectedly, and Sunwoo is pleasantly surprised hearing the animal that has been associated with him coming from you. His stare on you softens endearingly landing soft on your widened eyes. You lower you head to your thighs, hiding your flustered look.

“Can’t catch a breath whenever I’m with you, bubs.”

Two can play the game when Sunwoo calls you with the nickname that he has specially for you. A deep red blushes across his cheekbones, yet Sunwoo tries to hide his nervousness by clearing his throat. He sucks in a wave of air through his mouth, momentarily chuckling and proud of himself for finally calling you with the familiar name.

His thumb constantly offers soothing swipes on the back of your hand. “I have something for you.” Sunwoo’s other free hand rummages through his things. 

A box is what he extends to you. Inside, Grandma Lee’s accessories, keyrings that remind him of you, small plushies from claw machines that he overspent on, and handwritten letters from his yearning heart are what he has packed inside over the years. Every single piece differs yet compliments the other if you were to use all of them at the same time. Wordlessly, Sunwoo takes a clip and slides the bottom part of it across your scalp, adjusting it accordingly on you. The smile he offers is a mix of affection and disbelief that his gifts have finally made it to you. It didn’t end there, as he pulled out three similar-sized photo books from under the table beside him.

“It’s flimsy because I made it, but these are photos that I took when you weren’t here.” Sunwoo lays each book one by one, stacking them up while your one free hand holds onto them dearly. 

That’s all it took for the tears to finally fall. You flip through the albums of pictures that he has compiled when you were away. Three thick books, each one for a year each. He documents the shenanigans that you have missed, hoping that you would know how much he thinks of you. He slips in a few scenes of views that you would enjoy, and arbitrary captures such as him accidentally pressing the shutter button. It’s all silly and fun. With Sunwoo’s calming voice and the tears leaving your eyes, there are so many things roaming in your mind.

“I’ve always wanted to give this to you. I didn’t want you to be left out.” Sunwoo takes the books away from you, leaving them on the counter, “But this little one is the most precious thing I have.”

Sunwoo’s voice fades out near the end. You gulp. “What is it?”

The boy almost didn’t want to let go of the final gift that he has for you. Unlike before, Sunwoo is reluctant to open the book, “Pictures of just us. And you. I look at it whenever I miss you. Open it later when you're alone.”

The one small book is filled to the brim, minus the last page. Most of them are candid pictures, some funny but overall mostly ones that made his heart race with just one look. It’s only when Sunwoo lifts you by the chin that you finally have the strength to look up to his eyes.

The pads of your fingers dig into the sides of the small book on your lap, muscles shaking with the force. Sunwoo feels all of this, heart shattering into pieces at your agony. Inside your mind, he knows something is in your mind, but he doesn’t know what it is. However, he does know that you deserve an explanation for all of his questionable past actions. Sunwoo lifts his bottom from the back of his lower limbs, lifting himself closer to you. He kisses your forehead, lingering on your skin before speaking up.

“Three years,” your body freezes at the familiar timeframe, “that’s how long I’ve been a coward for. Truthfully, anyone would argue longer. But for the three years that I’ve barely texted you back, had any contact with you, causing you confusion and pain, I really am sorry for it all, bubs. I want to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head, an incredulous scoff hitting your lips, “Why’d you do it?”

“Because you deserve so much better than me,” his voice low and daggers deep into your heart. “I knew from the very start that your mum hates me, and I get it. I snuck you out and stopped you from studying. But I was selfish and told myself that what your mum thinks isn’t what you think. But then, when we got caught that day and you couldn’t go out anymore…”

His voice fades as the air becomes heavier the more Sunwoo makes his heart lighter. Even so, you appreciate the enlightenment, and you would gladly take his worries, carrying them together. After all, when carrying something alone becomes crushing, another hand is just what is needed. 

“I felt guilty for it all, and I guess I didn't know how to handle it. You’ve always loved going out, but after what happened, you couldn’t step one foot outside the house unless it was for school. I took your freedom away. So when I heard you were going, I took it as an opportunity to let you go.” Sunwoo searches for any emotion on your face: anger, sadness- just anything.

But then you bravely lift the corner of your lips, and your touch blankets his jawline. “I loved that day, Sunwoo. You took nothing away from me. You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”

Sunwoo lived in ‘what ifs’ till now about that event. What if he didn't take you out? What if he just third-wheeled Eric and Millie? What if he turned away after the first failed attempts? With your words, he finally lets all of it go, knowing your side of the situation. His knees give out, and he repositions his body on the floor, now cross-legged with his elbows on his thighs. 

Your head shakes, eyesight blurring at Sunwoo’s audibly sniffles below you. When you lean your body to kneel in front of him, you embrace Sunwoo tightly. Your timbre soothes him, sweet nothings naturally sending his heartbeat crazy. Tears soak your collar where Sunwoo homes at, and the familiarity of seeking comfort with one another hits you like a wave. 

“I was very happy that day, Sunwoo.” Your hold on his body tightens. “Were you?”

His bangs rustle against your fabric. “Very.”

“I'm glad then.” That's all you needed to hear. “Because the best thing in my life is seeing you happy.”

Sunwoo pulls his body away and clasps your shoulders, “I was happy because I was with you.” A tense gulp before continuing further, “You're the best thing in my life.”

Your eyes sparkle from the brimming tears around your eyes. The flustered boy uses his thumb to wipe them away, apologising for making you cry along with him.

“I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

There it is: A request for a promise. “Did you know that when something is weighing you down, you start to ask me to promise things?” You still at the accuracy of his words, lower lip chewed in denial. “So I’ll promise you that if you promise me something back.”

Sunwoo guides your breathing, eyes trained on your lips only a few centimetres away from him. He tries his best to meet your eyes again, diverting immediately to hide the love hearts in his. 

“Okay,” you agree between sniffles.

“Whatever choices you make from now on, you make them for yourself, not others.”

Choices. There are so many of them that we make in life. The easy, rudimentary ones to the life-changing, difficult ones. It's never been your forte as you're used to following what others have chosen for you. You're not used to taking your path, at least not without proper permission to do so.

“And if I fall?”

“I promise I'll be there to catch you.” Sunwoo offers his pinky finger out to you, hoping for you to take it. 

You spend the next few seconds staring at it, teardrops passing the tender cheek where your mum’s hand was yesterday. Sunwoo’s hand starts to falter, but just before he uncurls the rest of his fingers, you capture and curl his pinky with yours.

“I promise.”

THIRTEEN: WHEN KARMA STRIKES

A few days have passed since that day. After closing the store, Sunwoo was able to fulfil your wishes for a convenience store dinner with your phone propped up against the window to watch anime. It's a miracle the workers didn't kick you both out with the booming reactions to the show. 

If you did get kicked out, would the adrenaline that you and Sunwoo matched crash immediately? Would you notice your subconsciousness linking your arm with his? Would you notice the stolen glances by your side?

Because after that day, you avoid Kim Sunwoo like a plague. 

Eric and Millie too were left on delivered for hours on end. It drives Sunwoo crazy to be on the receiving silent end this time, and he feels that karma has rightfully gotten him. He can’t complain; if anything, he should put up with this to understand everything that he put you through thousands of kilometres away.

His day off started with multiple attempts to get a hold of you. The pillow mutes his groans while the mattress mutes his flailing limbs. Apart from the fact that he's bored, he's missing you a lot after expressing his feelings that day at the shop. He curses internally, and he knocks a box that has been sitting on his bedside table.

The thud on his floor is met with a concerned knock on his door. “Are you alright? I thought you were auditioning to be Tarzan.”

The son shrugs at his father, “More like a dinosaur, but I'll take it.”

The man at the door shakes his head at his child, rolling his eyes playfully. His shoulder leans on the doorframe, eyes scanning the messy room. He stills at the photo frame of his full family on his son’s desk.

The elder’s chin nudges towards the photograph, "You definitely got your love for photography from your mum,” approaching Sunwoo’s desk. “She said that pictures made everything last forever, and she always wanted to look at them whenever she misses that particular time.” 

The man rarely talks about his wife. Maybe it's his way of coping. Maybe that's his sign of moving on. Either way, Sunwoo knows that his dad holds his wife with strong regard and love as he stares at the photograph. The top part of the frame becomes dust free from his quick sweep across the wood.

“That’s why she loved taking pictures of us. So that when she left, we would never forget all the things we did with her.”

His lips dries at the thought of you. The bedsheet under his palm creates a whirlpool of wrinkles, creasing the fabric. Sunwoo has always loved taking pictures of you from the very start, it wasn’t only because you were leaving. But when he knew you were, he did start to take a lot more. 

“But it hurts sometimes.” Now sitting up on the bed, he has a better view of his unopened birthday present from you on the floor. “It hurts to look at pictures of someone that you love.”

Being an active parent even before his wife’s passing, Sunwoo’s dad has the fatherly instinct on the same level as the motherly instinct that is commonly known. Those instincts only became better after being the only parent left for him. And so, just a single look at Sunwoo’s distraught expression, the dad nods as he believes that he has an accurate idea of what’s troubling his son.

“Have you ever told her that you love her?” Sunwoo’s face shoots up to his dad, eyes wide open. The silence is all his dad needs to know. “So you haven’t,” he concludes for himself. “That day when you both were cooking together, I could tell from your eyes. It's how I looked at your mum.”

“There’s no point telling her anyway,” he defends himself fuitely. “I’m not good for her.”

“Now, who dares make my son think that way?” The father ruffled the boy’s hair as Sunwoo grumbled. “The only words that matter in this situation are hers.” No other words are said when he steps closer to the door, giving Sunwoo the room to evaluate his behaviour. "Don't ever look at your pictures with anyone and regret anything, son."

FOURTEEN: TIES BROKEN

You’ve been staring at the cover of the smaller photo album for the last few minutes, trying to will yourself to flip to the first page. Every time your finger brushes the the cover, it retracts as if they’re trying to save you from something: from heartbreak, from the pain, from running back to Sunwoo’s arms and ruining everything in his life because of your selfishness.

“No,” stepping away from your desk and pacing around the room. 

Your steps are just as fast as the thoughts ruminating and bouncing in your mind. It’s so disruptive that it overpowers the insistent knocking on your door. The person outside runs out of patience, revealing their furrowed eyebrows.

“Get out of your room,” your mum demands over your thoughts. “All the guests are coming soon. Sungjin is coming soon too and you haven’t done anything but shower. Don’t make others wait because of you.” With that, the door slams, and your body jolts at the resonating sound that you would assume you’re used to by now.

You turn your head away from the door, not yet processing your emotions over the past few days. You didn’t give yourself the space and time because you’ve been scared that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Back then, if you ever felt the need to break down, you did it in the comfort of someone’s arms. Now, that thought will forever remain a wish. No one can no longer catch you as you break down, and the loneliness in the open room starts to hit you minimally. Before your knees gave out, you crash yourself onto the bed, folding your knees to your chest as you take the next few seconds to deny reality.

“I miss you already, Sunwoo.”

And he misses you dearly too, and he’s acting on it. With this dad’s words motivating him, he manages to throw small pebbles onto your window pane. The constant thuds of familiarity on wood pulls you to directly face the sun despite puffy, sensitive eyes. You squint to adjust to the lighting, looking down to see a certain puffed-out boy outside. His smile widens at the sight of you, beaming brighter than the golden hour setting before your skin. Your eyebrows knit, and it doesn’t take long before his smile slowly flattens at your shaking head. His fist clenches by his side, mustering the courage to stand his ground. 

“Front door?” He asked, full of hope. “Please?”

Sunwoo leaves you space to think: to reject or to accept. The former you found excruciating to voice out, but the other option shouldn’t be challenged. All you need to do is to say the word that you said earlier when you’re faced with his photobook, but instead, your head nods, already imagining the relief of Sunwoo holding your figure tightly. You decide that his suggested place to meet is one of the many ways to be in his arms because you learnt from your experiences. You stashed a rope made by tying blankets into your wardrobe for times like these. One end of the rope is tied to one of the bed legs, and the rest of the tail is out of the window. The fabric hits Sunwoo on the head, causing momentary blackness and confusion until he notices the knots leading up to your window. 

“Wait, wait, wait-” He flails his hands to you, “Hold on!”

Your feet dangle over the edge of your window, looking down at Sunwoo, who readies himself to catch you. Sunwoo tugs the rope, teaching you how to climb down without hurting yourself. You follow his words, except for the fact that you let go of the rope earlier than he expected, almost tumbling him to the floor. Whilst Sunwoo balances himself and you from the force, you immediately nestled your face into the crook of his neck. Your arms around his neck pull him to you closer, and Sunwoo has no problems with leaning down to make sure you’re more comfortable.

His fingers comb through your hair, goosebumps arising all over you. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“You said you would always catch me.” Your ragged breath hits his skin. No other words are heard from you as his collar dampens to your tears. “So I have nothing to be afraid of.”

Supple lips meet the crown of your head. “Have you been crying alone?” A little nod from you shatters him, “You should’ve called me so that you weren’t alone.” Calling him might be a stretch, considering that you haven’t even texted him, but it was worth the try of reassurance. “I couldn’t reach you, and I was missing you a lot.” 

It’s only now that Sunwoo realises that those words never left his mouth. He has showered you with lots of love and attention ever since you came back, but his words haven’t been the best at showing it. You grip the back of his loose shirt, only continuing to sob quietly in his presence.

His teeth trap his bottom lip, a humourless chuckle hitting the shell of your ears, “Selfish, right? After all that I did.” 

You want to agree with him. Maybe it’s possible for the negative connotations of human selfishness to modify when it comes to love because if this is human selfishness, then he should be selfish more often.

Your hug around his neck makes it almost impossible for Sunwoo to see any part of you except the top of your head. He doesn’t push for anything else, understanding that he’s the only shield that you have from the world. Sunwoo waits for your breathing to even out, using the exhalation hitting his skin as an indication. An arm finds homage by circling your lower back, and his free hand massages your scalp with the tips of his fingers. His contact grounds you further from the physical stability he provided.

“What’s going on, hm?” You shake your head, not knowing if it’s in for denial or refusal. You thought he would leave it there, but the hand on your head slides to cup your cheek, pulling you slightly away from him. “Look at me, please.”

You can’t. Not when you have no idea what you would tell him if you did meet the eyes that hold your whole world. From afar, the gates to your house creak open, and the roaring engine swallows your whimpers and Sunwoo’s heartbeat despite the proximity. Gushes of praises at your two-storey house and the flirty tone of the woman churn your stomach as you imagine how she exaggerates her puckering lips loose to greet your mum.

“Where’s my soon-to-be daughter-in-law?” 

Sunwoo swears if it wasn’t for you needing him at the moment, he would have popped in from the side of the house and introduced himself despite potentially making the situation worse. He wants to tell the unknown lady that you’re not her daughter-in-law; or at least that’s what he wants. But with no further communication from you two, and how you’re holding onto him like you’re running out of breath, his chest tightens at the sure feeling that something is not right. 

“She’ll be out soon!”. 

His eyes flare, turning his head to the side where the voices are, and there’s a prominent vein that runs along the side of his neck when you slightly tilt your head towards him. You’ve never seen Sunwoo with such emotion before, and your hold around his neck loosens to bring his attention back to you. Almost immediately, the fire dies, and his gaze softens towards you. His thumb caresses the side of your neck. A battle unfolds between your desires and protecting the boy that your heart belongs to. Your head only becomes increasingly hotter with how he presses his forehead on yours, something that you should be used to but never did. You hope with your chest kissing his, your rapid heartbeat goes unnoticed; because of him, and your emotions threatening to burst.

The slightest movement alarms him. His bangs tickle your forehead as he shakes his head. “Don’t go…” 

There’s a lump in your throat, and you keep your eyes on his sneakers. “You know I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he confirms. “Not unless you want to.” 

To Sunwoo, it’s his subtle way of reminding you of the promise you gave him. For you, his words are enough to jumble your thoughts.

“I have to or else your shop-”

“My shop?” If Sunwoo thought he wasn’t understanding you before, he has completely lost you now. “What does my shop have anything to do with this?” You bit your tongue while prying yourself from his grip. Sunwoo did let go, but you couldn’t will yourself to widen the gap by more than two steps. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

You shake your head, fists clenched beside you. “You have to go, Sunw-”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” A layer of moisture forms on his eyes. “Please talk to me.”

How could you? How could you tell him of your mum’s words from a few days ago? How she basically made you choose between being with him or taking away his happiness? How could you possibly make him choose? You know how much the store means to Sunwoo from his and returning customers.

You don’t want to be the one to take everything away from him. Not when nothing was his fault in the first place. Though hesitant, your head inevitably shakes at him, and Sunwoo could crumble and break into pieces.

"I’m so sorry, Sunwoo.”

"For what?"

You hope your shoulder shrug is enough to let this conversation go. Your throat constricts with the way Sunwoo grits his teeth, eyes training into you. You force yourself to make something up. For your voice to let an excuse out. Just anything; anything to let this topic pass.

"For coming back and making you uncomfortable. For hurting you like this and-"

“Stop,” his voice pierces into your words. “You're not making me uncomfortable, and you're not hurting me at all. If anything, that's me to you.” Tears start to well up, threatening to fall with each word that comes from his heavy heart. “I know I haven't been the best person, and I know I haven't made up for that, but I can't do that if I'm going to lose you.”

Lose.

The thought had crossed his mind a lot the past few days, but he never said it aloud for fear of hearing it. The word being spoken only makes the situation real, and you're aware of the clenching in your chest. Your heart beats against your eardrums, and the world slightly shifts, deafening the chirps of the birds soaring freely across the hues of red and orange.

Sunwoo’s palms rest comfortably on your shoulders. “I’m so scared of losing you. Of letting you slip away…” 

With his words, anyone could safely assume that he’s the one that needs the comfort more than you. The single drop strikes across his cheek but doesn’t break his courageous smile. Instead, it only pushes the tears behind your eyelids to fall. Your thumb swipes his endless tears. His eyelashes flutter, breath shuddering at how gentle you're treating him. All Sunwoo does is stare at you while you take hold of his face.

“Don't be scared,” your voice breaks halfway. “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me. I'm just so sorry that you felt so guilty because of me, and I don’t want you to feel like that anymore."

Panic paints Sunwoo’s face when your hand flops to your side. You slip past him, walking towards the front of the house. As you passed, Sunwoo caught a glimpse of your wavering lips, orbs shaking towards the mud and soil. His fear prompts his hand to reach your upper arm desperately.

You shake his grip off rather harshly, turning around with streaming tears. "You said you were happy, Sunwoo. Don't take it back now." 

"Because you were in my arms! I had everything that I wanted when you asked me that question!” Sunwoo’s voice rasps with each exclamation. Each breath surges with pain at each breath but he forces himself to blink his tears away. “Are you walking away because you want to? You promised that you would act on what you want…”

The reminder is grim, and your smile is all the more fake. The way you shrug your shoulders lifelessly is enough to tell you that you have broken your promise, and Sunwoo is left frozen with nature, blowing his body side to side with it. With his condition, a gust of wind is enough to topple him over.

“Some promises were meant to be broken…”

When you drag your feet across the soil, you’re partially aware that your mum will eventually find the trail of dirt across her marbled floor. You mentally prepare yourself for the questions, unlike your preparation to cut ties with Sunwoo with the words hung in the air. 

Each step takes a part of you. Each step makes your body numb to the chilling wind. Each step is a confirmation of leaving him. Each step is full of your love for Sunwoo. Sometimes, letting go could be the answer to everything.

Never once did you turn back to face him and you ignore the urge to glance your eye to the side when you make a turn to the front door. If you did turn, you would have gotten your final glance of your first and last love. But you would see nothing but the way he hides his face from the world behind his palms, tears trailing down his arms.

FIFTEEN: PROTECTOR AND DEFIER

The day before your flight was your graduation party. Everyone knew of your departure by then, and Sunwoo knew when you both danced to the mellow music that he’s deeply in love with you. His realisation and the timing of it all resulted in him being dazed in his thoughts ever since the news of your leaving.

Your body sways with Sunwoo, and with how united you are with him, your departure is momentarily forgotten. Your dance partner being slightly out of the present moment has been a look that you have gotten used to. He knows that it’s not your choice. He knows it's for your best interest, knowing well that studying abroad would give you a great advantage in the job industry. He’s powerless, completely defeated by your parents’ valid reasoning. Running out of time, he finds himself thinking of a future without you rather than savouring the present with you. 

Each song passes with no prolonged eye contact from Sunwoo, so your hands cup his nape. Your warmth sent goosebumps up his skin, and he diverted his eyes from the graduation poster behind you to your eyes. A weak smile stretches his lips when he realises the crease between your eyebrows.

“What are you thinking about?”

Would kissing your forehead be too much right now? Would it ease your mind like how his mind would? In the end, Sunwoo only offers a head shake. “How we first met.”

Sunwoo watches his words bring a big stretch from your lips from one ear to the other. You could taste the fried potato from that day, the wind growing stronger as you come closer to admire the waves of the sea, and the saltiness infiltrating your nose. The way that you and Sunwoo met was a little messy, and if it wasn’t for Sunwoo cutely panicking from his actions, you and him would probably be enemies.

That day, Eric and Millie were only starting to date, and you decided to give the new couple some extra space; you were also saving yourself from being a third wheel after being stuck with them for hours. It’s so excruciating to see their flirty remarks and not-so-innocent touches after mutual pining for so long. As the three of you reach the coastline, you slowly slip away from the couple, venturing the area yourself. It was just you and your snack against everyone’s delightful chattering. Everywhere you go, even the ones that are alone like you, content smiles lit the place brighter than the stalls and the colourful decorative lanterns. You wander almost aimlessly, not paying much attention to your surroundings. 

When repetitive shutter clicks near you, your shoes plant themselves into the sand. You held the remnants of your snack tightly, ready to use its stick for self-defence. Your body whips to the side, trying to find anyone near you holding a camera. The person holding the camera is still unaware of the panic he accidentally caused. He leisurely clicks through his snapshots, rapidly clicking through the frame-by-frame shots of the beach and its setting sun as the background. He hopes that he can capture even the slightest movement of the sun going to sleep for the day. He did, but he also captured the way your clothes leave after-images as you turn around. Your facial expression is blurry, but that’s not a problem when you approach him soon after, a raised eyebrow suspicious of his work. 

Prompt explanation and recognition of being in the same school is the beginning of your friendship. That’s also the first time that he showed his work to anyone else than his dad. It gave him great relief to hear your compliments. Ever since then, you and Sunwoo have seen each other at school more often, and he joins you as a third wheel to Eric and Millie.

“I’ll never forget your face that day,” you chuckle at how wide-eyed Sunwoo was, stuttering and panicked.

You both spent some time recollecting the early events of your friendship. When the memories grow closer to the present time, that’s when Sunwoo refuses to meet his eyes to yours as much as he can. His steps are no longer matching the music, and he holds the side of your body loosely.

Your heart breaks into pieces, knowing that the news of your leaving affected him much more than you thought. “Let’s take a little break.” You pull him away from the crowd.

Sunwoo rests on a chair while you leave for refreshments. The boy hangs his face low, sweating palms clamping onto his knees and fingers tapping hurriedly on his thighs. Shutting his eyes only rid him of the physical world, and he’s already imagining every day without being able to easily see you. The biggest transition after high school was only supposed to be how he wouldn’t see you every day from eight to three. 

That’s it. It should’ve been just that. 

Should he confess now? Would it burden you? Would it cause his friendship with you to rift apart permanently? 

You’re only a few steps away from a deeply distressed Sunwoo. Your grip on the cup could have shattered it, the same way your heart is at the current moment. When you were finally in front of him, you placed the cup on the table next to you, crouching on the floor to look up to Sunwoo. You tried calling his name, but he barely gave a reaction. Your hands soothe over his hand, thumbs running along his skin. No words were exchanged, not when drops of water landed on the back of your hands. 

“I’ll miss you…”

You nod, voice starting to betray you. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll text you every day.” Sunwoo dips his forehead to yours. “I promise.”

The hug that he indulges you with after dropping you off is the last one. Sunwoo was absent at the airport the next day, only sending you a quick text minutes before your flight took off. Even though the plane had access to the internet connection, your message to him would be left on delivered for a few more days and left on read for weeks after. 

In between the chaoticness of a new life and unfamiliarity, missing Sunwoo had to be one of the hardest challenges that you had to overcome. Sometimes, during calls, Eric or Millie would slip his name nonchalantly, unaware of the situation. The weight of everything crashed down on one call, and the mention of his name was your final straw.

Sunwoo regrets not seeing you off. He let his insecurities beat him. If he was brave enough to confess his feelings, would you have stayed? If he important enough for you to stay?

He has looked for ways to blame staying in his bed and missing sending you off to your external circumstances like your parents. But he knew deep down that your parents wouldn’t stop him despite their hate for him. He wishes you would hate him for only reaching out during special days and practically ignoring you otherwise. But deep down, wishes for the opposite.

Kim Sunwoo has done regrettable things for the past three years. 

It’s been a week since he cried for you. Maybe the world is telling him that he’s too late, and he doesn’t blame anyone. The world has given him many chances, and so have you. Maybe this is the time that he would learn to live with his actions. Maybe the world won. Maybe the world wanted him to feel hopeless and lost, the same way that he made you feel for three continuous years. 

Sunwoo lets himself off with an extended time of rotting in bed. The ceiling became the medium for his mind to replay his favourite moments with you; and what life might have been with you. The pillow collects his silent cries. It's only when his hand outstretches and knocks a box that he faces reality.

Puffy eyes and fatigue reach for the now slightly dented box. Sunwoo has been avoiding opening your birthday gift but still keeps it by his side when he musters his courage to open your hard work for him. The ribbon shimmers from the evening shine outside, yet it never reflected in his orbs. His finger pulls on one of the long tails, inhaling deeply for the contents inside. A handmade raccoon keychain stares at him with its starstruck eyes and wide smile. If Sunwoo had a mirror every time he laid his eyes on you, he would know that the raccoon is indeed himself. A gulp passes his throat as he shakily lifts his gift closer to him, tender eyes examining the effort that you’ve put in. The slipped note from you congratulated him for his special day, wishing him lifelong happiness and health, as well as an apology if you didn’t do well with his gift.

“Yeah right,” he shakes his head with a smile, holding the raccoon close to his chest. “Lifelong happiness without you,” his palm clenches at the thought, “how am I going to do that?”

Kim Sunwoo loves challenges. He loves doing them too because he knows that you’ll support him on his journey, and waiting for him at the finish line. But if your finish line is his start line, then he would never take on those challenges.

Getting a wink of sleep was a miracle, and his dad would cheer if Sunwoo even left his room. His health declines, and the time he spends flipping through his photos increases. The familiarity of those photos makes him sane, as much as it makes him insane. The past week hits him when his messages are left undelivered even through multiple resends. You left the group chat, and your profile in multiple social media accounts are hidden from Sunwoo’s. You disappeared from his physical and technological world. The only thing he truly has of you now are the time that he spent with you in framed pictures and his memories. 

“Fuck,” he humourlessly chuckles. “Is this what I get for being a coward?”

The beeping and ringtone of his phone blares through his room. Sunwoo isn’t fazed by the sound replacing the silence. He swipes his thumb to accept the call without sparing a glance at the caller’s ID.

“Hel-”

“Please tell me she’s with you!”

Beside him, Millie's distant voice is frantic at another person being able to bring good news on the statement Eric shouted to him earlier. Sunwoo’s back straightened, trying to piece together the limited amount of information from the two’s lack of air. 

“Eric, what’s going on?”

“She’s not at home, Sunwoo! And we’ve been looking for her for a while now, and Auntie is getting so furious! I have no idea where she is! No one does, and she left her phone here and-”

“Okay, Eric. Take a deep breath,” Sunwoo traps his phone between his ear and shoulder. He stashes his essentials in his hoodie’s pockets. “I’m coming over now. Just hold on.”

Eric couldn’t get a word out when the line cut dead. Sunwoo drives over to your house, probably speeding past the limit numerous times; he decides a fine and demerits points are much better in the current situation. With every turn and adjustment on his stick shift, sweat rolls down the side of his face and forehead. The red lights seem like an eternity, and the green is faster than a blink. Taking a different route probably took longer than if Sunwoo just stayed put and waited a little bit more for the road to clear, but he’s not risking staying seated and watching the sun set with each second that passes. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he impatiently taps on the steering wheel at the road accident adding delay to his journey.

A mix of different coloured cars flooded the front gates of your house, some parked inside. By the door, Eric and Millie stood timidly side by side to an angry woman. The older one jabbed her index finger at Eric’s forehead, and just from his back view, Sunwoo could feel his emotions threatening to burst. It’s only when she directs her attention to Millie that Eric pushes her back behind him. 

“Don’t touch her,” Eric warns. “We’re all trying to find her here. Let’s not start another conflict, Auntie.”

“If you had monitored her properly and made sure she hung out with the right people outside the house, we wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!” Her gaze burns straight to Millie. “People like you and Kim Sunwoo! You’re the reason why she’s gone!”

“Auntie, I’m sor-”

“I’ll find her.” Sunwoo’s calm and determined voice cuts through the booming voice.

Kim Sunwoo takes the stairs with his chin up high, advancing closer to the three. The fourth person behind the door made his presence known, striking Sunwoo’s chest with his arm. No words were exchanged between the two, keeping their lips tight as each other’s existence surges and rages the bloodflow throughout their body.

“Get out, Kim Sunwoo.”

“This isn’t your house,” he spat out venomously, “whoever you are.”

Sungjin is ready to take Sunwoo into his own hands when the older man interrupts them. “How dare you come here?” 

His turns away from Sungjin to his friends, relaxing his stern look momentarily before facing the cross-armed woman. There she is in all her glory, with her face decorated with the best products and her body complete with the best brands. It turns out that those are not necessarily what makes a person arrogant, but instead, it’s the way she keeps her chin high to him at the top of the stairs. The way her eyes travel down to him and his baggy, non-branded clothes. It’s the way that her one leg extends to the side, ready to shoot him down. Sunwoo has never been face-to-face with your mum, only hearing stories. Maybe that should’ve made him cower, but for you and him, he’s sick of the world pulling you both apart.

“I never liked you, Kim Sunwoo. You distracted my daughter from her studies. You never even completed university. You don’t even have the money to own a proper vehicle. How dare you come here when you’re the reason why she has been misbehaving throughout the past few years of her life?”

Eric and Millie hopes for Sunwoo to keep his composure. Contrary to their expectations of Sunwoo giving into her words, Sunwoo shuts his eyes, dampening the force of the external world. Just like the past week that he spends thinking about the dear times he has spent with you, he consciously recollects ones that would help him stand his ground.

From the time you made it clear that you still think of him: “You didn't forget about me…I just thought I was the only one who held on to these memories.”

To the times when his actions brought you relief: “You have no idea how glad I felt to be out of that house.”

Or your selfless nature: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

To the ones that your ‘selfish’ self wants: “I came back because I missed you so much. I never blamed you for distancing yourself from me.”

To the ones that trust and lean on him: “You said you would always catch me. So I have nothing to be afraid of.”

To the one who cares for him: “I love seeing you happy, Sunwoo. So, promise me that you’ll always strive for happiness.”

And ultimately, to the one question that he finally has the heart to say aloud: “Sunwoo, are you happy?”

“No,” he firmly confirms. “I’m not happy.”

His words didn’t match the question that the woman asked. The blatant way that Sunwoo ignores her question only pushes the woman to break Sunwoo further. “You don’t deserve to be happy after all that you’ve done, Kim Sunwoo.” The woman won when Sunwoo nodded, a smirk slowly forming on her face. A scoff follows her victory, “Then be on your way-”

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t deserve to be happy after all the trouble I caused her. It’s the reason why I always thought that your daughter deserves someone better.”

“Past tense?” An eyebrow raises at his confidence. “You still don’t deserve her, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Maybe,” he reiterates the word. “But I wasn’t the one who made her apologise to me for something that isn’t her fault. I wasn’t the one to make her look over her shoulder every time she followed her heart. I wasn’t the one who made her think that she couldn’t lean on her family.”

Eric had to hold his laughter back at his best friend’s words. His nods to Sunwoo’s words, making the latter spare him a glance. Sunwoo meets the eyes of his best friend carefully walking backwards to the bottom of the stairs. Millie nudges his shoulder, pointing to the keychain hooked around one of his pants’ belt loops and mouthing about how their little boy has grown. It took Kim Sunwoo a few years to say these words out loud. But a win is still a win. Sunwoo reaches the bottom of the stairs, still keeping his body facing Sungjin and your mother. When he has enough space from Sungjin, Sunwoo keeps his arms to his side as he bows to the older one.

“Your daughter made me promise that I’ll be happy for the rest of my life,” he lifts his head steadily leaving the group with newfound determination to keep his words, “so I’ll be on my way to do that.”

Finally, Sunwoo’s back greets her. “You pursue my daughter or even be near her ever again, and I will close your shop.”

That keeps his feet planted to the ground. His shop is way out of context, just like how it was a week before. This time, however, Sunwoo isn’t lost in following the situation. This information must have been something that you’ve carried by yourself, and he comes up with a ton of reasons as to why you would never dare tell him the truth. He knew something was up. He wanted to dig further but never had the chance to. His actions right now are what pulled the trigger, and he steps in the much-needed ‘trap’ that your mother would never want him to know. The elderly man smirks, expecting another bow with pleas and whimpers. 

Yet, as the sun is on its way to sleeping for the next few hours, Sunwoo encapsulates its scorching heat just for her as he turns his head. “You can try,” he shrugs. “I’m confident that I can protect everything that I care about from now on.”

SIXTEEN: WHEN THE SEA MEETS THE TEARS

As much as you hate to admit it, roaming out without your phone and jacket isn’t the best way to rebel against your mum. You're shivering in the sunset breeze, and your ankles, deeply buried in the scorching sand, are now numb. The thought of taking your shoes off was good, but you couldn’t find the energy to put them back on despite them being beside you. 

Before you, the sun is slowly setting. Your watch tells you that you've been roaming for almost two hours with no hints of boredom. The bird chirps its departure song, and the melody fades across the horizon. The wooden bench underneath your fingertips grounds you with the help of the cooling wind, but you welcome it with closed eyes. Your shirt dances, making you tuck your skirt tight beneath your thighs.

The time when Sunwoo sneaks you out for the festival comes to mind. The act was thrilling, especially after working every single drop of your brain juice and overworking yourself to the bone. You drown yourself in your thoughts, the sun making your forehead unnecessarily warmer. You're afraid to face the place that bought you both together; the waves crashing only push your tears out more.

"Should I go now?" You distantly wonder. "Probably," You answered your question.

You didn't leave just yet, though, staying just a little more before the inevitable lecture when you get back home. For some reason this time, you're not scared. You're not scared of your mum shouting at you, pressuring you to go back overseas and never to step foot in Korea unless she wants you to. You're not scared of getting to the airport and saying goodbye to Eric and Millie until your mum tells you to come back. You're not scared of the work that the new semester will put on you and the stress you'll be under.

You're scared of your mind repeating the scene from last week when a certain boy decides to speak his mind- no, his heart. His words replay in your mind millions of times. The worst thing to see is a distraught Sunwoo, and it kills you that you’re why he is. It took a lot of self-control to walk away without looking back. The weight of your words only sunk during dinner time, and you had to excuse yourself from the table as you ruined your makeup. The girl stares at you blankly in the mirror, with no life or spark; Sunwoo has always been the one who put them there. Sungjin trails behind you and makes it his goal to understand the meaning of your distress. He promises to treat you better, better than Sunwoo could ever do. Yet, getting treated better by Sungjin isn't what you wanted, and it'll never be that.

Kim Sunwoo. Truthfully, if you could say anything, you just want to be with him.

It’s only when your mind convinces your mum’s threat is worth it for the greater future that you finally passed out for the rest of the night. Even so, you wish you could take everything back. You wish you could spare him a glance, maybe mouth the three words you’ve kept away for so long. Kiss him on the forehead, cheek and maybe his jawline. Pull him close and let him rest on your chest. To snuggle against him both when the world is loud or silent; his heartbeat will deafen them anyway. Spoil him with his favourite food and things. Split the workload at his shop; a measly excuse to see him more during the twenty-four hours. Shower him with lots of love and affection until you’ve reached the end.

It seems that heaven has been listening to your yearnings. Silicone slaps the gravel footpath behind you the volume and pace alerting you to turn towards a heaving boy. His neck stops turning at the sight of you and his steps gradually slows. Sunwoo ruffles the bangs stuck to his forehead, wiping any excess sweat and taking in the salty air. The corners of his lips lifts dearly, pumping his fists into the air to celebrate his correct hunch on where you would be.

"Called it," he shrugs after steadying his breath. "Knew you'd be here."

You didn't respond, keeping a straight face towards him before returning to the vast ocean. If you knew heaven was listening, you wouldn't wish for his presence right now. You're tired, speechless and overwhelmed with your audacity of running away from home. Your shoulders comes into contact with cotton, his gentle cologne behind you mixing in with the saltiness of the sea. 

"It would suck to get sick.” He adjusted the fit on your figure, tying the sleeves loosely together to keep his jacket from slipping.

He walks towards the front of the bench, and you expect him to take a seat next to you. Sunwoo blocks the calming waves with his chest before kneeling to face you at eye level. As expected, you turn your head any other way than to him, but Sunwoo doesn’t miss the eyes void of emotions. Even with your favourite gummy smile of his, you still wouldn’t catch him a glance. A pout grows on his face when you ignore him, but the boy doesn't give up. His gaze lingers on the familiar photo book on your left. A calming smile overtakes his face, glad that at least you had it close to you like all the times that book was for him. 

Sunwoo takes the heel of your foot, dusting leftover grains and dust away before slipping the spare sandals he bought to your feet. 

“What are you doing?” You murmur weakly.

“Taking care of you just like how you always do to me.” Sunwoo takes your half-buried sneakers out of the sand, shaking them from any grains before setting them nicely against to watch the scenery. “Done,” satisfied with his work. 

Your eyes are dull at the last bit of sunlight that shines over his hair. It prompts you to lean towards him, pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of his head. Despite looking away, you catch Sunwoo admiring your face from the corner of your eye. The pink and orange reflecting on your skin only awes him more, stealing all of his attention to you. Your palms are clenched together on your lap. 

His eyes widen, perplexed at your act. “W-What was that for?” 

You shake your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Just repaying you for all the times you kissed me.”

Then he chuckles. You wish you could record it so that you could play it whenever you want to. Your fingers push and fidget against each other, catching Sunwoo’s attention. He slips his hands between yours, pushing them away from each other. His fingers link with yours determinely, the same way he lifts his chin to look at you.

“Look at me, bubs.” You did the opposite, neck touching your chest. It leaves him crestfallen.

The only part of Sunwoo that you could see is his lower body, knees deep in the sand. It’s only with the breeze that your gift from him slightly sways, chest and grip tightening at the smiling face. 

“Ddeonu…”

It’s a faint word, but Sunwoo caught it. “Is that the name of this little guy?” You spare him a nod. “You made him so cute. Just like me.” Sunwoo’s ability to lift your mood at any given time and place is truly remarkable. It was one of the first qualities that you fell in love with. Maybe it was the playful wink he throws in; maybe it's just him. “Did you flip through everything yet?”

You immediately knew what he was referring to, and you couldn’t bring any good news for him. It’s the truth, and you hope Sunwoo would be so disappointed that he would stand up and walk away. All you need is for him to tell you how much he hates you for not being able to do such a simple task, and you can go on with your life-

“Good.”

That’s the complete opposite reaction that you expected from him. Without a chance to go against him, Sunwoo traps your body between his arms by placing his hands next to your thighs. He pulls his upper body, drawing his face closer to you. It’s not the distance that makes you lean backwards, it’s your final attempt to hide your red and puffy eyes from the loneliness and weight that you’ve been carrying for years. But there he is: the love of your life so close to you that all you need is a few centimetres to claim his lips. Your hands find each other ones more, tightly shutting your eyelids. 

“No, please,” his voices out painfully and in desperation. Stray hair is tucked behind your ears and he hushes his wishes, “Look at me, please. Look at me with those eyes that I love the most.”

“You don’t have to take care of me anymore, Sunwoo. I know you said that you would make it up to me, but you really don’t. I understand why you did what you did, and I ge-”

“But you don’t understand how I feel about you. I know that because you haven’t read the last page. Please look at me, bubs.” Midway, your breath gets stuck in your throat when Sunwoo nudges the side of his nose against yours. “Please?” You give in to Sunwoo. Immediately, his eyes glimmer when he meets yours. “Why didn’t you tell me about your mum and my store?”

A crease forms between your eyebrows. “How’d you know about it? Did you…visit my house earlier?” Silence grows louder than noise as affirmation. “Then, you should know what’s best for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He repeats. “You should’ve told me.”

“And then what?” You ask exasperately. “What would happen after, Sunwoo? Would you climb the fence and try to break in through my window? Catch me in your arms? Smile at me like the world hates us being together? It's not high school anymore! We're adults with responsibilities, and you wouldn't do th-”

“Yes, I would’ve,” he intently phrases. 

Sunwoo clenches his fist, knuckles pushing on wood. He could feel his heartbeat against his ears, thumping as erratically behind his chest. You scoff at his words, and it leaves his shoulders slumping. Yet, that’s all he needs to finally voice out the words that he associates with you.

“I would,” he tucks your strands once more, cradling your jawline and draws you in. He breathes just above nature, confessing his feelings, “because I love you. I've been in love with you for years.”

Sunwoo watches as your eyes widen, lips gaping apart all the same. Tears form, trickles and creeps. Your stuttering feeds on Sunwoo’s fear that he's lost you forever. But as each second passes, he wants you to know explicitly something he has been hiding for years on end. Now, with half-lidded eyes on your lips, Sunwoo patiently awaits for you.

“You're worth the world to me,” he interrupts. “The store won’t close if that’s what you’re worried about. Even if it does, then I can reopen somewhere else. I’m confident that I can protect everything that I love, including you.” The gift from his belt hoop is unhooked, and Sunwoo tilts the soft toy so that its smiling lips land on the corner of your lips. “Ddeonu is confident too.”

He slips his favourite gift into your hands, patting and directing his head kiss your hands. Sunwoo continues to keep you at the centre of his view, brushing your hair through his fingers and bopping your nose lovingly. As soon as you let out the softest laugh between your sniffles, Sunwoo responds with a similar sound that dissipates all your worries. When your head lifts to face him eye-to-eye, Sunwoo is the one who turns his head sideways. A deep shade of pink brushes across his cheekbones, and he traps his lips between the rows of his teeth. The redness only spreads throughout his face and neck when you press a peck on his cheek. 

Another one.

And another one.

Until he finally stands and lifts you off the bench with an arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. Along with your satisfying laughter, the pull you have by embracing your arms around his neck is what confirms to Sunwoo that this is reality. Still in his arms, Sunwoo takes a seat, sitting you on his lap. You bask under the remnants of the golden hour close to him. You rest your head on the crook of his neck.

"You're going to get hurt, Sunwoo,” clenching his shirt at the thought. “I don’t want that.”

"Life without you will hurt. I know that much.” You hum, drawing random shapes on his top. "What about you? What does a life without me mean for you?”

Your finger stops, gulping, “Nothing.”

Sunwoo caught a whiff of your shampoo when he craned his face to you. “Why?”

Plump lips kiss the tip of your nose, cheeks rising at the fleeting touch. “Because I love you. I love you so much that it drives me crazy, Sunwoo.” 

If you thought Sunwoo couldn’t get any redder than before, he did. His skin heats up, and your body feels the effect your words had on him. It leaves you chuckling instead, teasing him with kisses along his neck as he shivers under your touch. You’re caught up in your act that it caught you off guard when Sunwoo’s arm behind you suddenly pulls away. With the momentum and your surprise, the smirking boy takes this moment to respond to the love you’re showing him. 

Sunwoo claims your lips, eyelids closing to focus and savour the shape of your lips. He leads, pulling away slightly to dive back in. The boy pulls you back up, and you adjust to the pace he sets for you. He shudders and groans each time you pull away for air. Your breath is taken away by how the hand behind you wraps around your lower back, and the other guides your face to keep his lips locked with yours. It’s a little messy with occasional nose bumps, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sunwoo either. Not with the way you intentionally place your hand over his heart, feeling his little heart jump at his affection with you.

When his lips aren’t busy on yours, he presses his lips to your face, whispering sweet nothings. “You’re so beautiful,” he admires before diving back in. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

Kim Sunwoo had years of loving to make up for. He’s ready, but he needs to make sure you are.

"My beautiful girl, are you ready for the endless messages now?"

You fill his ears with an amused giggle, "As long as you send me a picture of yourself every day."

"You bet I will," sending another playful wink. "I'm sure you don't want to miss out on this handsome face." 

You roll your eyes playfully, Sunwoo feigning fake offense. The book beside him comes to his mind. 

He spares a glance at it before looking back at you. “Want to look through it?”

"Together?" He accepts your request with a kiss.

The sun sleeps for the rest of the night, the moonlight experiencing their love for the first time. It smiles beautifully to the laughter of the couple pointing at the funny pictures taken by the photographer himself. The ones that Eric and Millie took capture all the times that they might’ve been blind; or at least that is what the two believe whenever they see the now-couple together. Sunwoo screenshotted conversations between him and his two best friends reprimanding him about his behaviour towards you. Beside those screenshots, he wrote his reflection, spilling his heart in ink; some faded from his tears.

Before flipping to the long-awaited last page, Sunwoo had his hand over yours while you flipped it. In the end, you understand why Sunwoo is glad that you didn’t see it before he confesses. The three words being said are much powerful than the lettering. But something that words couldn’t convey is how there’s a space for a picture.

The outline is a rough sketch of the dimensions, and inside is written: If you accept my heart…? Hopefully…

The next thing to do is to clear. In selfie mode, you, Sunwoo and Ddeonu pose to the phone’s camera. Sunwoo can’t wait to tell his dad and everyone else whenever he looks back on this snapshot that this is his favourite photo out of all the snapshots of you and him. You too, would claim the say with the addition of the calming waves and the warmth of his body against yours.

Within his frame, both digitally and physically, together with him.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 the boyz masterlist 🤍 part of 'especially to you...'

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