#anton sword | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gothamgf · 25 days ago

Text

bleachers — s.es + l.cy

tags sports!riize basketball!eunseok fencer!eunseok fencer!reader anton!swimmer, college au, fluff, angst, slight nsfw, hurt/comfort

wc 14k

summary when twenty-five twenty-one meets challengers.

author's note each 🤺 is a time jump!

(apple music playlist)

(spotify playlist)

You afforded the front-row.

Yet, sat right under the nose bleeds.

A coat of velvety darkness covered the Grand Palais, raising the public, and everyone involved’s pulses to its climax.

The hall tensed in its fullness, gradually silencing itself.

Each and everyone’s mouths watering for victory in the name of their country, loved ones, or themselves.

Light beams shot out of nowhere, putting on a grand show for the beginning of the awaited event.

The Men Fencing Finals at the Paris 2024 Olympics.

🤺

BEEP

13-0

Coach Lee manifested every single muscle of hers to stop herself from letting out a loud sigh of disappointment. She knew she’d let it out in a few minutes anyway. The only thing comforting her sorrow in witnessing her own student fail so miserably, was you, her little « protégée ».

It was your opponent’s fifth time of trying to quit the game ever since you’ve started playing.

It was, in consequence, one of those days where you knew the real training would only come after hours, once you would beg your coach to play a real match against you.

Only, one of you would always ask for a rematch, and a match point to determine who turned out to be the winner of whatever day it was.

So, in the meantime, you’d become the distracted teenager you rarely allowed yourself to be.

« Please coach, I’ll never be as fast as her, just let me train on the mannequin… » whined Aeri’s to the unimpressed olympian champion, fully knowing her request will be met with a stern negative response. Useless negotiations started, followed with a series of beginner-level advices. Well, not beginner-level, but certainly nothing a competitor for the national team should be listening to at the moment.

You took their bickering as an opportunity to cool off, dropping your suffocating mask on the floor. You then opened your water bottle with quick dexterity, without ever letting your sword out of your grasp. You were seen without it so rarely, word spread that you slept and showered with it. The truth wasn’t that far.

The voices of everyone in the gym were muffled as the second bell of the afternoon ringed, and chatter bloomed out of the school’s walls. Normally, you’d be on your way to close the windows, so that nothing could disturb the hours left of training. But your skin sprinkled in sweat, and the ongoing match required no real focus on either part whatsoever.

So you stayed there, and kept on drinking, sun-kissed.

When the breeze would stop blowing on your face, you’d immediately pray for more, and for 2023 to come faster. It would be your very first Asia Games, if you’d manage to qualify for it, and before that, if you’d manage to qualify for the Korean women’s fencing team.

You knew you would.

The mere thought of it made your stomach tie itself in impossibly tight knots.

In the clouds, floated the white of your suit, tattooed of your name in the colors of your country. The wind whispered chants celebrating it, as well as your scores going high, point by point, pushing you towards victory. And in the blinding reflections of the high school building’s windows, millions of medals shined. Your mind already displayed them in your room, in which you left an empty wall since you were 7.

Your bones shook with impatience. Two dozens of months, and you’d be there.

Palpable greatness.

Life have never tasted any better than on a random Thursday afternoon of a long high school day. And your heart never felt any lighter than when you were full of youth, hope, and thirsty for victory.

Arms crossed and wrapped on the windowsill, your body slouched on it, you quickly checked if the interrupting conversation was near to be over. You caught the coach fiercely teaching Aeri how to make convincing feints, as if she was teaching her a choreography. Aeri offered you a desperate smile, as you mouthed her encouraging words to lighten up her mood. She couldn’t do anything but sigh. You giggled and let your eyes wander back into the outside world. Your back straightened itself the second you saw the building you were secretly eyeing this whole time open up its doors.

The basketball building.

At this hour, they were going to run a few rounds on the track field before going back to training in their gymnasium.

It’s not that you memorized it on purpose, you just knew.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The school’s team was so prestigious some of the students already had fan clubs within the school, and in other’s as well. It mainly consisted of little stickers of their favorite member’s number on the juniors’ lockers. Or, blocking entire days before their games to craft posters, decorations, and even merchandising. They swore it was to motivate them, but the « Marry Me Sungchan » cardboards told otherwise.

You thought it was all very silly, yet quite thrilling to have some of the « Riizing Boys » in your promotion. What a lie it would be to say none of them have tickled their way into your heart, but it would also take actual torture for you to admit it in front of your teammates.

Your nose fully peeked out of the window when you watched the first tall guys step out.

And there he was, Lee Anton, with his silver jersey and long tousled hair.

Your stomach tied itself in knots again as he looked back to the team, flashing them a million dollar smile, slowly jogging towards the track field, and warming-up his twisted body. Droplets already formed on his forehead as the unforgiving sun coated the giggling players.

Their happiness affected you. And perhaps, watching hot boys made life a little more worth living, or so your 18-year-old self thought. You also thought you were looking (oogling) at the team in its entirety, when a chestnut haired boy rushed to take place next to them on the starting line, their coach closing the door after him. He just wore a white t-shirt, and was definitely unfamiliar to you.

He was new.

And new is exciting.

You kept watching him, comparing his physique with the other members, trying to figure out the sound of his voice and most importantly, what his face looked like. All of their broad backs and shoulders were turned to you, lowered to the ground, as they prepared themselves for the jog. You thought to yourself that they’d run fast enough for you to catch a glimpse of the new guy when they’d get closer to your window.

But the whistle of their coach synchronized with yours, ripping you out of your reverie.

« Come on, let’s play again. » Coach Lee calmly ordered. « And remember Aeri, her muscles. Look at the way her muscles move, and anticipate your strike alright? »

Aeri nodded unconvincingly, knowing that it will be over in a few points anyway. She put on her helmet in a swift motion, seeming slightly more boosted than minutes ago. You, on the contrary, put a little more time to get ready.

Your body might’ve been En Garde, but your mind was still on the track field, among the « Riizing Boys » and the faceless newbie.

« Prêts? » Coach Lee exclaimed, her arms open on each side of her body.

The growing sound of the basketball teams’s step tangled with the sound of your own heartbeat.

« Which club trains here? » A voice from outside the window asked.

You instinctively turned your head.

« Allez! »

The new guy was looking at you.

And you were looking at him.

BEEP

13-1

🤺

The seat to your left was empty, whereas the one to your right was occupied by a pre-teen girl wearing both France and South Korea’s colors. You figured you’d find out who her hearts belongs to once the match would begin.

« Now welcoming, France’s athlete : Yannick Borel ! » An automatic voice announced through the speakers.

The girl screamed as loudly as she possibly could.

You didn’t need to wait after all.

The fencer’s walk was determined, slow and strong. The volume of the cheers made you slightly worry about the glass ceiling. You applauded still, feeling quite sorry in advance for the next athlete, knowing he won’t get half as much cheers as his opponent.

You rapidly came to the realization that you might’ve under-estimated his popularity. The second his name was announced, you nearly jumped in surprise, hearing the girl next to you let out a inhumane screech.

A sting that could not be stopped by any means attacked your heart as his name echoed through the Palace Hall. Huge screen glowed, his face and name plastered all over them, cheered in a country at the end of the world. Envy and pride fought within your overwhelmed soul, tied to him in ways that justified your presence here, as much as it made it questionable.

« Now welcoming, South Korea’s athlete : Song Eunseok ! »

🤺

« Good session girls! » Coach Lee started cheering on to conclude the day. « Aeri, Manon and Y/N, it’s your turn to clean the room, I want to see my reflection on the floor tomorrow morning hm? Good night everyone, drink water and sleep for at the very least 9 hours, understood? »

You all agreed and greeted the coach back, as she left the gymnasium to her usual mantra. The doors were still clapping the wind when you rushed towards one of your juniors, begging her to trade your place this one time.

This one time, and last week’s time.

Promising her another autograph from Seunghan wasn’t enough, so the bid went up and your offer was now his signature on her sword. At this very moment, you finally understood what authors meant by « Her eyes glowed ». You took her struggle to say thank you as a « yes », and bowed to her appreciatively before rushing to the lockers. As you peeled your fencing suit out of your body and changed to your uniform, the note you received this morning fell on the floor.

You got it during your French lessons with Mr. Vidal, half asleep and half drooling on the back of your hand. Your table mate gently tapped on your forehead, jolting you awake. Your beauty sleep, interrupted only for you to receive a crumpled piece of notebook that has been passed around from the very back of the amphitheater, where you felt a gaze burning through your nape.

« Meet me at the bleachers.

-seok »

And there you were, walking towards the blue bleachers as the Korean sun painted them orange.

Again.

You saw his silhouette shaking two tiny strawberry yakults, the straws already planted on both of them. Your pearly eyes glowed from miles away.

Excitement from meeting up with his new friend energized him, as if the previous 8 hours of intensive training vanished right there and then.

« No fancy fencing outfit today? » He playfully asked, carefully watching you climb up the stairs, two by two.

« And hopefully you have your own jersey now? » You cheekily replied as you remember teasing him for always training in what seemed to be the same white t-shirt.

« I still can’t decide on a number… » He replied, lying through his teeth, both of you knowing the truth. He was still on a trial period.

« Well, what’s your birthday? » You plopped next to him, downing the strawberry milk as if you haven’t drank in years.

« 19 and 03 are taken… » He dramatically sighed, taking a sip out of his.

« Well… Speaking of 03… » Your interest spiking as soon as you heard Anton’s jersey number. Your back straightening itself on its own.

Eunseok contained a smile, throwing his sport bag onto his lap. You stopped breathing as soon as you took a glimpse at the silver fabric shining inside. He paused, and lifted the jersey to your face.

« AAAH! » You loudly gasped.

« SHH! » He hushed you, trying so hard not to laugh at you. « They’re still inside the gymnasium, oh my God… you’re insufferable… »

Fan-girling sounds escaped out of your bouncing body. The peak of excitement and joy plastered all over your face, as rarely as you expressed it.

The truth was that, selling your youth to your sport built walls around you, which made building meaningful, yet carefree friendships close to impossible. Your teammates seemed to be your friend group, from the outside. But the giddying, feet kicking and giggling teenager you knew you were, only ever existed within the four walls of your bedroom. You’ve journaled about how lonely it was to have no girl sitting cross-legged at the end of your bed, ranting, from sunset to sunrise.

Such is the cost of being so excellent in your discipline.

No one seeks friendship in a playground foe.

Good thing Eunseok had no wishes to challenge you. Or at least, without a sports career, or a scholarship at stake.

Turned out 18 days of makeshift apprenticeship were enough for you to build the type of connexion you’ve longed for, since forever. It broke through the walls of youthful insecurity and shyness the day he caught you cleaning up the fencing studio on your own.

You were on the third part of your sold out concert, the imaginary crowd going wild as you crossed the stage doing tricks with your broom turned microphone, turned guitar. Closed windows muffled the sound of your favorite band blasting through the stereo, as it has countless times before. There were no blinds, however, that could hide the silhouette of your body following severals choreographies for half an hour.

Especially, from the late jogger on the tracking field.

You remember feeling as if you’ve jumped to the roof when he knocked on the glass, teeth showing through his wide smile, framed by glistening cheekbones. The highest level of shame took over your whole being, immediately assuming he was about to make you the joke of his entire time here. Or worse, he would act as if you’ve never existed.

In reality, he just mouthed for you to open up. You did, reluctantly so, fully aware of how cruel boys could be.

« There’s a duo part coming after, right? » He asked, nodding his head to the rythm, waiting for the said part. He sang it, as passionately as he could, not a single note of his, on key. He tilted his head waiting for you to hop on the duet.

Not once did he offer you mockery coated side-eyes.

No. He was all friendship, dimples, and love for One Direction.

Finding comfort in each other so rapidly, bloomed doubts on what truly lied within your heart.

It was no difficult thing to admit that you have never wondered if there wasn’t a bit of attraction between the two of you. Though, the mere reminder of Lee Anton’s existence, made every single man that you have ever known disappear from the surface of Earth.

So yes, when Eunseok held his promise of getting you one of his jersey’s in exchange of clandestine fencing lessons, your heart pounded its way out of your ribs.

« Thank you, Thank you, Thank you !! » You beamed at him, diving into a hug.

« You know » He started in a slightly strained voice, his hands ghosting over your back « Don’t freak out but, » He paused. « I told him it was for you. »

The summer breeze suddenly chilled your nape, down to the bottom of your back. Waves of embarrassment as strong as this could break down cruising ships in seconds.

Your bodies automatically distanced themselves, as your expression died.

« What. » You barely muttered.

« Yeah… he’s a bit over his jerseys going to high schoolers and juniors he doesn’t know and stuff. I had to tell him but… »

You cut him right there. « You couldn’t lie? You couldn’t say it was for your little sister or like, anyone else but me? »

You stared at a piece of void in horror. It creeped. The slow realization that all of the chances, as small as they were, with your first college crush definitely turned into dust creeped on you. You were just a fan now, to him. You asked yourself why you would ever trust a man to be your wingman when you let your face rest on your palms.

Eunseok’s smirk haven’t left his face, though. « Can you let me finish? »

You didn’t respond.

He sighed at how dramatic you were acting, in his opinion. « When I told him it was for you… »

He paused. « He actually looked… quite happy about it. »

🤺

2-2

No weapons were allowed in the arena, but if anyone had a knife, they could easily cut through the tension that vibrated in the air. Waves from chatter to silence formed in between points, helping out the fencers to filter out their thoughts. Song Eunseok’s were now racing with heavy, borderline abusive motivations to create a gap of points between him and Yannick Borel.

There were few things he hated more than equalizing point with his opponent. The idea of utter loss, a silver medal, caused by a single point could make him go feral.

But now was no time to go feral.

Now was the time to place his feet apart from each other. To flex his knees, bend his sword and agitate it out of habit. To then giggle his arms, one last time, and wait for the referee’s voice to echo through his mic.

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second and felt the tingle of his opponent’s last strike on him.

The fourth right rib. He would try to hit here again. And he knew just how to keep him from doing that.

« En Garde. »

You were sitting at the edge of your seat, his hate for equal scores coming from you. You, who couldn’t help but hope for your late night lessons from 4 years ago to still be tattooed in his mind.

« Prêts ? »

All the sweat you poured until the school’s track fields’ lights went out, and your only way back home was from his passenger seat. Those trainings he paid with inviting you to his court, only so you could flirt with his curly-haired teammate.

BEEP

Your youth together.

You hoped he didn’t forget your youth together.

2-3

It was like watching the two of you dance again.

🤺

« There’s no way I can jump that high » You stated in defeat, breaking your neck from looking at the hoop.

« Are you kidding? I saw you correct the cheerleaders’ choreo the other day… »

You shushed him, partly amused and partly annoyed from shooting only three scores since you’ve started training with him. It has been 2 weeks.

Nothing was at stake there, no career, no scholarship, or not even a trophy. But the frustration of doing so many so mistakes when you were more than used to being excellent, couldn’t be helped. Especially since Eunseok has proven himself to be quite a fast learner from your not so amateur fencing sessions.

« Let’s do it together one more time, hm? » He offered, clearly sensing your growing frustration.

You nodded, eyes closed, gathering every ounce of focus that was left in your body.

Why where you there when Anton was nowhere to be seen anyway?

When you felt ready, you looked to your side, ready to mimic Eunseok’s movements as you have done countless times before.

But you’ve turned your head to nothing.

A breath ghosted over your neck.

Fingertips on your left wrist, and a palm on your hip.

« Bend your knees. » He softly spoke.

The phrase ran twice, or thrice in your head before you actually registered and executed it. Your body temperature shifted, hoping it went unnoticed. And before you could form any other thought, his whole body stretched yours out towards the hoop. You automatically jumped, but he stayed on the ground, his hands now both pushing on your under arms. He boosted your jump, practically lifting you like you weighed nothing. You nearly screamed out of fright from the sudden gain of height.

« Shoot ! » He shouted, shattering the blossoming tension.

You did, and you scored, and you laughed, and he laughed. And coming down from the height, only made your excitement and adrenaline jump through the roof. Once you calmed down to your senses, you teasingly hit him with the ball instead of celebrating.

« Amazing shot, champ, how did you that? » He sarcastically chuckled, resting his hands on his knees.

You couldn’t help but think he was probably wiping off your arm-pit sweat from his palms.

« It’s called talent. » You breathlessly replied, plopping down on the floor with your legs splayed out.

« That’s a real basketball player answer there, you might get qualified for the team before me."

« I’m no real basketball player, though. » You stated, cutting out whatever game you were both playing at. « I literally have to be your puppet to score. »

« Were you having fun? » He asked, « Being my puppet? »

« Well, even though I didn’t ask to be… » You looked up at him, the spotlights making his traits manlier than you were used to see. « Yeah. »

He collected the ball from the floor, dribbling it for a few seconds before effortlessly scoring, looking right into your eyes. « Then you’re a real basketball player. »

« So fucking cheesy… » You sighed, smiling to the ground.

Half an hour later, Eunseok was mopping the squeaky court as he waited for your « just got home » text. He would usually enjoy some music while cleaning, just like you did. But that day was for racing thoughts, and the squelch of his soapy mop on the wooden floor was just what he needed as a background sound. The way he touched you earlier haven’t quite left his mind. Before that, he had never tried to initiate anything physical with you. But you always did. Pressing on his abs and back muscles to help him have good fencer posture. Or wrapping your fingers around his to teach him how to have a solid, yet, swift hold on her backup sword. Like any good coach would.

Eunseok kept rummaging his thoughts about how he held you today, if you perhaps thought it was too much, or if you thought nothing of it. He saw the goosebumps rise from under your skin, though. And he felt it heat up.

« Someone’s in love… », Sohee said from the swinging doors.

Eunseok’s heart jolted, his body remained unmoved. He eyed his smirking teammate from the reflection on the huge window in front of him. « The hell are you even doing here? »

« Not flirting with Y/N L/N, what about you? » He sarcastically replied, crossing his arms.

Despite the slipperiness of the floor, Eunseok raced towards him, screaming incoherent things to his youngest. Their improvised game of tag, giggling from the sights of each other’s bouncing hair, made the previous teasing dust up in the records of history.

« Just admit it, you have a thing for Anton’s girl. » Sohee exclaimed with a loud smile on his freckled face.

Hearing that incorrect way of describing you made him icky, for a reason he was only admitting to himself, for now. Eunseok ran faster, shouting a childish « Hey! », Sohee finally within his reach, when his phone vibrated against his clothed thigh. He automatically stopped in his tracks, right after jumping over the benches. His friend’s eyes sparkled with thirst for drama, the sight of Eunseok’s lighted up smile ready to be spread in future gossip sessions.

But Eunseok, as blissful as he could be, kept blushing at your awaited notification.

It was followed by a messy, half asleep goodnight text. To which he replied :

⌈ Sweet dreams, Y/N. ⌋

His finger hovered over the send button. Was it Sohee’s defying look over his phone that made him send this all or nothing second text? Or was it because he came to the realization that he didn’t like the fact that « Anton’s girl » could soon be a very correct way of describing you ?

It was up to your interpretation anyway. Perhaps, it would mean nothing to you.

So he sent :

⌈ ❤️ ⌋

Like any good friend would.

🤺

It has only been 6 minutes since the match has started. Six terribly long minutes of observing your college’s best friend compete in the most important match of his life, with only yourself to debate or cheer with.

The time on your phone was rarely left unchecked, as for your watch, it would be the next second, as if time went by faster on the latter. There was a fencing olympic finale entertaining you, and a chanting crowd to follow along to. Nevertheless, pure loneliness bubbled right inside of you, perched with thousands of sports fans.

It was never lonely down there, you reminisced.

A goal in mind, a weapon in hand, and a person to dance with was all you ever needed to feel fulfilled. To feel happy.

You’d search for your partner’s sweet spot until they’d succeed to your teasing touches.

Growing tensions, magnifying attractions, and the electronic sounds of the scores accumulating turning into music. There would be a moment in which both of you would understand each other completely, the map of each your souls clearly traced in the lines of your body.

Synchronization.

Harmony.

The common folk mostly thought of fencing only as competition and infliction of pain. A deadly duel, resulting into a victor and a loser. But beneath the protective gear, and under the pulsing pearly skin of fencers, lied infinite pleasure.

For both players.

And sometimes, even for the referee.

Fencing was all about mutual connexion, understanding, and love.

And all of that came with patience, which left your body each an every minute there, sitting with a crowd that didn’t know Song Eunseok like you did.

Nor the secret stake of the match.

That’s what, partly, justified your loneliness.

You hoped he didn’t feel any of that loneliness, as well.

Because if he did, if he wasn’t having any fun, he would 100% lose.

He took off his mask, strong breathes huffing out of his chest, as he waited for the referee’s verdict. He couldn’t help but twist the sweat off his pink glossy lips, lick them and bite them.

The anticipation that grew within you, and your misplaced curiosity for his freshly licked lips, made you react a little later than you should have when you heard footsteps approaching you.

There’s a hand on the crook of your neck.

« So sorry my love, some fans wanted pictures. » Anton breathlessly whispered in your ear, before kissing it.

🤺

City lights shimmered all over the floor you slowly walked on. Your teammate’s complaints were muffled by the sound of your own troubles fogging your brain. There were no words to describe how much you loathed doing bad performances.

And your coach pretending like it wasn’t the case.

And the fact that the only thing keeping you away from being better, was your mental state.

And your mental state, being the way it was because of a guy.

Anton hadn’t talked to you today.

You wore his jersey, today.

Embarrassment grew each and every time you felt a stare a second too long on the shining letters on your back. You’ve never wanted to hide under your epidermis more than when you walked by the team’s table at lunch, and received a glance, but no smile from him.

It could have been just that, until the most irritating chuckles made their way into your ears, coming from their way.

If you could’ve died right there, it would have been a miracle.

And if your sword could actually kill, Eunseok’s head would’ve been on a spike.

Well, truth was that your mental state was that way, because of two guys.

It could also only be because of today’s treason, but it wasn’t.

Eunseok hasn’t left your mind a single day since you’ve met.

It has been three months, now.

Spring was ending, now.

Your friendship grew out of the school’s walls with goodnight texts, stretching into nightly, hours long conversations. Your thumbs would get sore from all the texting, so it shifted to calls. And video calls. During the weekends, too.

Eunseok then swore you needed to practice your shoots on your days off as well. He happened to have a park with a hoop, right at the end of the street in which he lived. So you met up there, every Saturdays, and practiced.

He’d always drive you back home if those sessions, that eventually turned in gossip sessions, lasted until nighttime.

Until one day, when his older brother went on a trip with his car.

There were no buses anymore, and your parents have had a little drink.

Moments later, you left your shoes next to his by the entrance, ate with his parents and baby brother, saw Eunseok under his dining’s room light, and brushed your teeth next to him, laughing at the huge foam around his mouth.

His mother’s smell was all over your skin and hair when you got out of the shower.

His own smell embraced you when you dived into his previous basketball team’s jersey.

And being there, all up in his brother’s sheets, with his father snoring in the other room, scared you. It scared you because you felt like you could get used to this.

Your lids grew heavier, as you silently wished to get used to it.

You opened them back up when your phone lit up by your face.

« I have popcorn. » Eunseok had texted you.

You didn’t need more to be tiptoeing to his bedroom.

« I’m out of here by 3 am, understood? » You warned him as you quietly closed the door behind you, knowing that it might cause trouble to be found here in the morning. He solemnly nodded, before breaking into a grin as he watched you get comfy by him, against his headboard.

Hours after demolishing the popcorn bag, you were still there, sharing life stories in the dark, from the funniest to the most unspeakable ones. You told him about how you puked on yourself after your first kiss, and he told you about all the nasty things he had seen in the showers of all the sports teams he had been in. He swore he hadn’t participated, but he gave away way too much details.

It was way past the bedtime both of you knew you wouldn’t respect anyway, when he decided to put on one of your favorite animated movie on his laptop. Your reciting of the lines became more and more incoherent, and he spent more and more time watching you flutter your eyelashes shut.

You fell asleep to the feeling of Eunseok’s fingers waltzing on your temple, and woke up in his brother’s bedroom.

« Do you speak French in your sleep because of fencing, or because of Ratatouille ? » He had asked you the next day, watching you wash your face through the bathroom mirror.

All of this shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, you thought.

You were just happy to get closer to your friend, you thought.

You were like brothers and sisters now, you thought.

Replaying this in your head has made you oddly silent, as you kept on walking among your teammates. You were so silent, you started to recognize the now very familiar sound of a basketball rapidly bouncing, then clashing against the metal outdoor hoop.

« Oh, Guys, I forgot something at the gym. » You lied to the group of gasping girls. « You guys can go ahead. See you tomorrow! »

You rapidly pretended to walk back, immediately missing the shelter of Aeri’s umbrella as they cheerfully waved to you. Seeing their giggling backs under the rain made you wish to make more efforts to befriend them. An inexplicable rush of nostalgia washed over you, as raindrops coated your scalp. You were in your feels. And going to investigate towards the small court wasn’t going to help anything, no matter who was dramatically shooting hoops under the rain.

It could’ve been one of the guys you were desperate to avoid tonight.

Though, you couldn’t help but hope it was one of them.

You took a turn and quietly walked towards the huge white hoodie, cutting the mystery short.

« Think you’re Troy Bolton or something? » you teasingly asked. You knew better than to be mad at him off the start, even though you truly were.

Eunseok turned around, missing the point he was about to miss anyway.

The fruit of his restless thoughts materialized before him.

If you thought you were going mad over your sleepover at his’, it was solely because you knew nothing of how much it ran him, truly crazy.

He introduced you to his parents, picked you up when you were sleeping, smelt your morning breath, and have spent, since then, hours to think about the next time he could have you that way again. Without acting like the worst, traitor, dipshit friend ever.

You were slowly tearing him into pieces, with no one but Sohee as a witness.

The abandoned ball wasn’t bouncing off the floor nearly as fast as your pounding hearts.

« If you consider yourself Gabriella, then it should be Anton’s role. » He stated, leaning down to pick it up. His tone ended up being colder than both of you expected it to be.

« I’m not really sure he’d like to be my Troy anyway… » You scoffed, crossing your bare forearms. « But you all could be a little less cruel about it. » You then spat at him, slightly ashamed.

He stopped in his motions, his back facing you. « What are you even talking about? »

You huffed a laugh, the frustration turning into a lump of sorrow in your throat. Have boys always been this oblivious to the fucked up things they do? « You know exactly what I’m talking about. »

« No, I don’t actually. I don’t know, Y/N. » He turned to face you, jaw clenched. « And you really need to stop playing around, especially now. » He bitterly added. His tone was filled with despise, as if he was grounding some naughty spoiled kid. It vexed you.

« Is it not playing around when you let me hope that he likes me ? And proceed to then laugh at me, with him, behind my back? » You shouted, taking a few steps towards him, wondering where his common sense possibly went.

You didn’t mean for your voice to crack so easily. And you were pissed at his confused, twisted eyebrows under his wet strands of hair.

« Lunch? Today? » You tried to refresh his memory.

His expression shifted. A defeated smirk threatened to mark his face, as he slowly made the wet ball bounce from one of his hands to the other.

« I can assure you, we weren’t laughing at you. » He calmly stated, now taking in your shivering form from under the flickering lamp post.

You sighed out a big chunk of air, with closed eyes and your head held up high. Was it out of relief, annoyance or, as a way to relax your severely tensed muscles? You couldn’t tell, at all.

But you knew what you felt. You felt sick of fighting the very person you’d go to when days were as shitty as today.

So you decided to trust his words, though it felt too early to fully believe in them.

« Whatever. He didn’t even talk to me today. » You muttered.

If this had happened a few weeks before, Eunseok would have confessed that the team was laughing at Anton’s reddening ears to the sight of you, proudly walking with his name on your back.

However, whatever reason that was making him pull a dry sweater from his sports bag, was making him keep it all to himself.

« You can’t afford to catch a cold, champ. » He softly spoke, as he stood up, closed the gap between you, and wrapped it around your shoulders.

« So can’t you. » You replied, looking up to his face. He covered the top of yours with the hood of his sweater, slid his hands on your shoulders, and left them there.

It wasn’t his first time taking the time to explore the map of your face. He retraced it all, meanwhile you felt like a first time explorer. The lamp-post lighting softly bounced of his high cheekbones, and made his earring shimmer. You couldn’t make up the sweat sliding down his forehead from the raindrops drenching him, in all places. From his ridiculously big eyes and lashes, to his puckered pouty lips, passing by his straight nose bridge, he was glowing.

He was beautifully glowing.

Your focus went back down his mouth. You blinked, a lot. You swore it was moving a second ago. But it wasn’t anymore.

He had just finished talking and you haven’t heard a thing.

« Sorry what did you say? » You asked, coughing your way out of awkwardness.

He swallowed down a now flustered smirk and replied in all seriousness. « Our coach. He’s involved with a bribing case. »

It took you a second too long to recover from your previous embarrassment, and register the dramatic information you have just gotten. « What? » You finally exclaimed.

« Yeah. » He looked down, your saddened expression pulling him back through the same deception he had faced earlier. «The headmasters were quick to announce that there would be no actually good replacement for the rest of the year though. Some are staying, some are switching sports, and others are switching… schools. » He sighed. He also remembered how hard he had gasped when Shohei, the one guy he was the most excited to train with, announced him that he’d fly out to Japan to have a chance at his dream basketball team.

He paused, and half heartedly chuckled, « I wasn’t even selected so my choices are… Thin. That’s why I’m here. Stress-releasing. » He freed your shoulders of his tender grasp, burying his freezing hands in his hanging jogger’s pockets.

You’ve let the rain wash over you for a moment, watching Eunseok’s gaze empty itself. You, quite selfishly, mentally placed yourself in his shoes. You knew you’d have gone bat-shit crazy if you were left with the choices of making a drastic change in your life in order to keep chasing after your dreams, or abandoning them completely. In your golden age. Just because of a man.

Your heart broke for the promising athlete before you.

It broke for your best friend.

« God… » You gasped in horror. « I can’t even… begin to imagine how hard that must be for you.»

« For all of you. » You added, Anton coming to your mind, and his, to his own demise.

He dropped his head and bitterly nodded to your statement. As you watched him stand there thoroughly defeated and fighting tears, you’ve found yourself powerless, and lacking of words strong enough to provide him any satisfying reassurance. So, you instinctively reached for his head and placed it on your shoulder, like he would do when you’d fail anything, from getting Anton’s attention, to exams.

His arms immediately wrapped around your back and waist for warmth, comfort, anything, like a man starved. He had convinced himself that you were going to turn into sand if he didn’t hold you tightly enough, hence the grip he had on you, that, despite yourself, made your face flush warm against his wet, cold body. The sound of the raindrops hitting his nape made you shiver for him. You attempted at covering it with your hand, but was rather caressing the small parcel of skin.

You weren’t deaf to the sound of his breathing losing its regularity, though.

Added up to his chest, beating against yours, his heart was helplessly finding ways of digging its way down your ribcage.

You liked the feel of it, though.

So you held him tighter, too.

« You really need to stop playing around. » He whispered, right into your ear.

« What are you talking about? » You softly spoke, right back into his ear.

He took another deep breath before his palms found their way onto your hips. He unglued your body from his, watching you look up at him with a puzzled, yet dazed look. « You think the coach’s thing is the only stressing me out? »

The world consisted only of the raindrops sliding off your huffed out bodies, and the lamp-post illuminating you. An aura surrounded the man, through your blurry, rained on gaze.

« I like you, Y/N. »

There was no time for another thought to be formed in your mind before he leaned in to kiss you.

Song Eunseok kissed you.

His lips on yours were gone as quickly as they’ve landed. Your next view were the droplets free falling from his eyelashes. Behind them, secretly lied a gaze you mentally ordered yourself to memorize forever. You weren’t sure if it was love, though. Because how could you be sure of feeling an emotion you’ve never encountered before? And where were the fireworks that the stories you’ve been fed with your entire life have promised you?

You didn’t hate it.

Whatever you felt, you wanted to feel more of it.

He watched you reach for the back of his head with one hand, and the side of his neck with the other. He watched you lift yourself on your tippy toes, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

You planted a new kiss on his wet lips. Only, you felt like you couldn’t get enough of of it.

Eunseok swore he could taste victory better on your lips than on any of the trophies he had left a peck on. He anchored you to him when he felt your toes struggling to stand still. And he prayed, to all of the higher forces that could exist, to make the moment last as long as possible.

Not a single ounce of lust seeped through the near-divine kiss you shared, even after your tongues have exchanged many caresses of their own.

Both of you found your opponents there, kissing like you fenced, wondering if each of your physical encounters would end up feeling so familiar.

Him, strategically attacking you with an unsettling force.

You, brutally uncovering all of his weaknesses after studying his every moves.

Everything that your unsatisfied, complexed selves have been craving for, you ended up founding in the warmth of each your own dearest friend’s.

Your phone lit up once in your back pocket, but you couldn’t care less about anything else that wasn’t Eunseok eating your mouth open. His large cold hands slid their way down there, with the pretext of protecting themselves in said pockets. Your phone vibrated once again, and he felt it too.

« Duty calls? » He whispered against your lips, both of yours covered in spit and fucked out smiles.

You scoffed, punched his forearm as a punishment for his wandering hands, and dived back into the kiss you started missing the second you left it.

His stupid smile couldn’t be forced out of his lipgloss smeared lips as he lazily kept on kissing you, too.

He was on cloud nine. It was so grossly obvious. Yet, thinking about all the time he had spent fancying you, made you want to kiss him a little harder.

If it weren’t for the third, infuriating vibration against your butt-cheek, you would have been glued to his lips until sunrise.

You reached for your phone in your back pocket, while he made your head rest on his chest to shelter you. He covered your phone and the top of your head with his hand, too, as it lat up your chest. It lat up Anton’s jersey.

The mere sight of it made it harder for him to swallow remains of your saliva.

He innocently thought the notifications were just from your dad cockblocking him.

But it would be underestimating his friends’ power over you.

Plus, you were staring at your phone’s notifications center for way too long.

⌈ Lovely outfit today. ⌋

⌈ Would you wear it again Friday night? ⌋

⌈ I want to take you out, Y/N. ⌋

The inevitable smile that creeped on the lips he had just kissed, made his heart bleed to fatality.

🤺

Eunseok just lost a point.

Anton’s hand was still glued to your shoulder, even after dozens of people crossed lengths of bleachers, hopping over strangers’ knees, just to have the privilege of sharing a picture with him. You were rarely invited in them though, or acknowledged at all. Knowing your spotlight-craving nature, you were surprisingly unbothered by your partner’s new surge of fame.

In fact, it made you love him more. You once shamelessly admitted to your girl friends how one’s sportsmanship could determine your attraction, and feelings for them.

The more medals someone would win, the more points they’d win to get you.

Anton cracked the code when he first tasted your lips, right after he beat his personal record for the 200M Freestyle in the selections for the school’s swim team. You celebrated in the very same pool he had newly decided to offer his body to, arms wrapped around his soaked shoulders, sharing wet, languorous kisses and splashed giggles.

He couldn’t get enough of the way your face would lit up after each and every prizes he would bring home over the years.

So he kept swimming.

And kept winning.

Just to come back to you, forget it all and drown in your eyes again.

Your eyes happened to be just enough for him to be here, in Paris, collecting gold medals like pebbles. The last three days all ended with your most cherished trophy coming running over to you, spinning you around, feeding on the laughter and cheers he swam to win all along.

His addiction to the proud look plastered all over your face whenever you glanced at him could have got him banished from competitions.

He once pillow-talked to you about his theory of your past lives, being that he once was a greek athlete, a pioneer olympian, that only competed in worship of you. He kissed each of your knuckles afterwards, and later that day, came back with your initial added in one of the Olympic rings tattooed on his right bicep.

He sat down, finally free of his whispered meet and greet, kissed your shoulder, and turned his focus back on the match, almost forgetting the bitter taste of his presence there. He grounded himself by firmly holding your knee, as the bleachers suddenly felt too high for him.

You, however, were almost annihilated by the game, wondering just how will Eunseok get his point back. You were almost starting to get upset by it. By everything mad that has ever happened to you, too. You thought it boiled down, the resurfacing anger from the day he decided to switch schools without telling you.

Was it really resurfacing anger, though, when it has been burning your guts every single day since 2017?

Will it ever truly leave you, when the mere thought of fencing makes you feel 18 and abandoned again?

Will you ever be at peace with the man you were cheering for, next to the man you shared keys with?

🤺

You were sending undelivered texts to Eunseok with your right hand, and holding your new boyfriend’s arm with the left one.

« You should eat, it’s going cold. » Anton told you, softly shimmying your cheek out of his shoulder.

You absently nodded, not even bothering to straighten up and pretending to obey. Every single soul around the table could see your mind wandering elsewhere, but they had much more interesting topics to focus on. Like practice, competitions, and Asia Games. All of their non-athlete friends and lovers barely kept it together as they felt like their heads were going to explode from hearing too much sporty non-sense. Even though you have finally acquired your title of « Riizing Boys’ Girlfriend, » you weren’t quite included in the second bubble of conversation that formed over lunch. No, you preferred having one with the ghost of your true first kiss who has decided to vanish from the surface of earth four days ago.

Your messages delivered, though, four days sooner.

Your concern for his absence seemed to torment no one else but you. Anytime you’d ask one of his ex-teammates, their reply would leave you even more lost and confused. You have stopped interrogating the team after the third player, Wonbin, « jokingly » replied he must’ve been sick of being around you every day. But also, to not raise any suspicion on the fogged up nature of your friendship.

Anton had gained your attention once again, asking you to eat once again, but the very little appetite you had was definitely lost when you saw your text bubble switch to green, in the corner of your eye.

There was no way.

You quietly excused yourself out of the table, as discreetly as you could.

However, your discretion happened to not have gone unnoticed by Sohee, who followed your steps right after unwrapping his arm around his emo brunette girlfriend’s shoulders.

Your lonesome session of deeply inhaling the fading spring’s breeze was cut short by him walking up to you, burying the worry that crushed him in his huge jean’s pockets.

« It kills me to see you like this. » He simply stated.

You were taken aback by it, as you weren’t that close to him.

But Eunseok is, or was.

You smiled, and assured him that you were fine through your knotted throat.

« No you’re not. » He sighs, his gaze fixated on your unevenly concealed eye-bags. « Listen, I’m not supposed to tell you this but I will anyway. My girl keeps telling me how bad it is to keep that away from you, and fuck it, she’s right. »

You braced yourself, arms crossed, and nodded. « What’s up? »

« Anton doesn’t know either though… » He added, before looking around and leaning towards you.

Seconds later, you are hit with the news that scooped the ground right off your feet.

Not by surprise, because you expected it.

You saw it coming like a lunge.

And there was no way to avoid the deadly strike, and scar it left on your poor self.

Eunseok left to study in Japan.

And broke contact with you.

4 years later

March 2021

« Are you sure you’re okay? » Jimin asked, as you were losing a third point into your first practice game of the day.

You nodded, out of breath, admitting to your years-long opponent that your entire body was particularly sore today.

She snatched her mask off, revealing a smirk curving her glossy lips « Oh right, it was Anton’s birthday yesterday, I almost forgot. »

You teasingly attacked her with your sword, shushing her up from revealing a half-truth. All three of her strikes have hit marked spots from the night before, you kept having stomach butterflies-inducing flashbacks of. What has gotten into him, you wondered, reminiscing the way your hip bones knocked on the kitchen counter, bathroom sink, and shower wall, all in an impossibly short span.

The other source of your lack of focus was not so thrilling. It was quite the opposite, since it actually terrified you, since you’ve listened, in disbelief, to your college best friend’s whereabouts on the radio. Hearing about it against your will for the past couple of years have made your grieving journey harder than it should’ve been. Four years, in which you’ve entered your twenties, moved in with your college crush, integrated the National Fencing team, adopted a kitten, and buried gold fishes have passed. Four years of secretly scrolling through Japan’s national fencing team social media posts, under Anton’s spoon, lullabied by his soft snoring.

You hated yourself for it, though.

But no hate you could feel against someone could possibly surpass the one you felt for Eunseok.

Which is why you nearly crashed yourself into a tree when you heard the reason your coach was about to gather your team in the conference room.

Song Eunseok has come back home.

Neither did the radio host’s or your coach’s voice have made it real enough for you to believe it.

It wasn’t until he walked in under camera flashes that you’ve felt it.

Everything.

You felt everything come back.

The creaking sound of the bleachers under your youthful laughs. The strawberry milk flavored, moonlit practices. The soaked kiss. His brother’s sheets and his mother’s shower gel.

And the pain, the agonizing, visceral pain of everything being ripped out of your life on a random Thursday.

Once the white blocky flashing lights stopped concealing the face that was once your home, you were hit with the stupid realization that, that man was your first love.

As he blinked the lingering blindness, he looked for your face in the seated crowd.

And when he did find you, he smiled.

He smiled at you, offering you nothing but friendship and dimples.

As if it was enough.

As if stupid dimples were enough to forgive leaving you in the other side of the sea, for a stupid sport. For your stupid sport.

You couldn’t stand any of the bullshit he was standing on. You were mad, mad enough to leave the room, not as discreetly as you once did.

How dared he come back bothering the peace you have worked so hard to build, after he had so easily destroyed it? How could he smile so prettily for the cameras, knowing the one person he should be apologizing to on his knees is standing right there, apology-less? How could he not learn from his errors, and warn you this time?

The walls of what you called home more than the one you shared with your boyfriend, suffocated you for the very first time. So you left them, and drove. And you could’ve gone to the warmth of Anton’s arms, of your bed or of your bathtub.

But your mind longed for stress-relief, instead of relaxation.

Although, your tensed and sore body screamed for the latter.

« Practice starts in an hour, alright? » Sohee stated, leaning on the door’s frame, the same worried expression frowning his youthful face.

Maybe, it was your heart that made you stand in front of a hoop.

« I’ll let Anton know you’re here » he added to deaf ears before leaving you, as you already started to loudly dribble the heavy ball on the shining wooden ground of the Seoul’s Basketball Team’s practice room.

You thought you were strong enough to feed your mind with thirst for scoring points, without ever drifting to Eunseok’s lips pressed against your ear, teaching you how to win.

As you failed yet another shot, you also thought of the fact that you have never gotten close to winning against him in his discipline, when you have once shared a 9-15 points combat.

He had been lying, you were just now realizing, dribbling away your confusion, making sense of the late epiphany you were now having.

He didn’t approach you to teach him fencing.

He wasn’t a genius, nor a fast-learner as he repeated.

He already knew how to play.

There just wasn’t any male fencing team.

And he just wanted to spend time with you.

You scored.

You were his first love, too.

You picked up the ball, and scored again.

He loved you so much, he crossed the sea so he wouldn’t have to see his first love get with what he thought was yours.

You felt lighter all of the sudden. As if the soreness and bruises from last night’s have been washed down your body. You felt light enough to dunk without sitting on Eunseok’s shoulder, for once.

You truly felt like it.

So you jumped, higher than you ever have in your life, and dunked.

Adrenaline rushed in your veins in such a delightful way, that you have forgotten that as an athlete, listening to your body was the only thing that mattered. It wasn’t scores, performances, peers, sponsors, or money. It was your body. But it was too late to remember it now.

You were on the floor.

And you couldn’t believe the thud followed by a cracking sound, was the sound of your knee.

It couldn’t be.

🤺

Anton’s hand still rested right there, squeezing it every time a player scored.

Uncertainty resided within your heart in his attempt to reassure you. Each squeezes feeling like thousands of swords plunging in the wound left by your crushed lifelong dreams.

He meant well, though. He meant them like kisses.

So you covered his hand with your palm, grounding yourself too, on the touch of your partner of 7 years.

You thought you’d feel more sick than that, watching your first fencing game ever since the incident.

It was not a harmless sight, nonetheless.

You missed it all so bad, thinking of it for more than a minute would make you undeniably cry rivers, for your grief was still young and fresh. It has only been two years since the Asia games’ doors closed right in front of your hopeful soul.

Since you have been amputated of the life you have been building since you were a child.

Since you have died on a basketball court.

Your forehead sweat would never uncomfortably trickle down your collarbones under the hot white suit again.

You never got to unpack a new one again, smelling the fresh new fabric for days, until it would absorb your own salty smell.

Your sword would never accidentally hit someone on public transportation again.

And no one else would ever say that you were glued to it, whenever someone would see you eat, with it laid next to your food.

You would never train at the gym with your teammates turned friends, giggling on the stair master for minutes again.

You would never turn teammates into friends again.

You would never plug, and unplug yourself to the score counting matching again.

And you would never roar from your guts whenever you’d win again.

You would never win again.

You never played again.

🤺

From Anton’s arms, carrying you princess-style as he screamed for help, to the sun-bathed rehab center, a million things you were unable to properly recollect, have happened.

You have seen therapists that have tried to find you a new purpose in life in the span of 60 minutes weekly consultations, eaten countless of close to tasteless food, received an overwhelming amount of bouquets from all of the coaches, teammates and friends you ever had, and cried after each and every one of their visits. You have dried gallons of your parent’s, Anton’s and every of your loved one’s tears. You have also started knitting, as Sungchan’s bride-to-be have brought you a starting kit to keep up with a new distraction, other than the torturing one you had of keeping up with fencing news. Keeping up with the life you should be living. The life you spent your days and nights mourning, within the four walls of your hospital room. You have even witnessed the reformation of the « Riizing Boys » within those same walls. The six of them filled it with laughter, as they decided to come playing cards and performing karaoke to you every weekends.

All of them, except for Eunseok.

His absence haunted your convalescence. Every day for 6 weeks, you’d meet the depressing grey ceiling first, as his face would pop-up in your mind. And every night for 6 weeks, your eyelids would heavily close to the hope of him showing up, leaning against the huge doorframe one day.

You’d toss and turn in your sleep, wondering whether shame, guilt or none of the above refrained him from coming to visit you. And Anton, as sweet as he was, would only slip his hand out of yours when he’d be sure of your arrival in Morphea’s embrace. As long as you had him, you’d think it would be easier to forget Eunseok’s existence altogether. But you were only a girl who missed her college best friend, and the body she used to live for.

Complaints and whines once slipped out of your mouth in the safe company of a handful of your girl friends.

« He ain’t shit anyway », have Sohee’s high school sweetheart spat. Every one of them thoroughly nodded, agreeing to the brown-eyed woman’s truthful statement.

« If I were you, » Started Sungchan’s promised, « I’d ask for Anton to beat him up. »

You laughed, fully knowing, by looking at her piercing blue eyes, that she meant it in all seriousness. Watching all of them tear him apart with witty insults and embarrassing memories of him during your college years brought peace to your heart. You weren’t alone, grieving the Eunseok you once knew, who’d carry bandages in his cargo pants’ pockets every day, for every single one of your aches, as tiny as they could be. The girls would sneak in the dark chocolates you’d share with him, high up in the bleachers, whilst you lined your future in the early evening stars. They’d also just sit there, merging complains and praises of their respective partners, as you crocheted them tops for their up-coming events you should’ve attended alongside them.

Your bones would hurt less and less, whilst your prayers for his return would make themselves rarer and rarer. As you took your first trembling, impossibly challenging steps in the hospitals corridors, the idea that the hollow place in your heart for fencing could only be filled with love for a kid with Anton, bloomed in your head. You couldn’t imagine loving anything else.

And you were everything, but ready to love again.

Your third re-walking session of the week have just ended when the hospital’s garden have looked most promenade-worthy. Soon enough, you were half hopping, half limping with your crutches among slow troupes of retired people, and limb-less recovering adults. Despite the nice track your healing was on, you have not quite often found yourself inhaling the herbal scented air, the freshly produced oxygen out of the tall trees that traced a rounded path. Finding an empty bench was a dreadful task, since everyone seemed to have chosen to take a break at the same time as you.

You eventually found one, by a duck and koi pond. Little ducklings following around their mama suddenly made you miss Anton, when you’ve heard way too healthy steps to be from a wounded stroller, like you, right behind you. The way the rocks were smashed beneath their feet, instead of seductively dragging on the ground, immediately eliminated your boyfriend from the guessing list.

Fear and curiosity fought a tough battle within you, as you debated whether you should turn around, or limp out of here.

It could just be a nurse, you thought to yourself.

Though you were far from believing in yourself.

You didn’t even flinch, when the silhouette of a chestnut haired man quietly sat besides you.

The koi fishes kept on aimlessly turning round and round, deep in the emerald water, and the duck family jumped out of it, one by one, as if they were giving you space to talk it out.

Or find something to talk about.

Clapping leaves, summer scented crickets, random droplets and wheelchairs’ wheels rolling on the rocky path.

You were hearing everything, but an apology.

You felt like tearing up, like dying even, when he finally spoke up.

« Break up with him. » He started.

« Be my coach. » He pleated.

Clapping leaves, summer scented crickets, random droplets, wheelchairs’ wheels rolling on the rocky path…

And a slap.

« What the fuck is wrong with you? » You asked, the tingling sensation lingering on your palm.

« I’m still in love with you. » He truthfully replied, his cheek reddening.

Your ribs felt like shattering under the extreme pounding of your heart. Heat, flushed the entirety of your numbed-down, heavily medicated body. The cracking of his voice in his followings words made you realize that the only cause of your overwhelmed state was what came out of his mouth. You weren’t even looking at him, yet. And the slap seemed to already belong to history.

« I… don’t think there are enough words to express how sorry I am. I left you before I could even give us a chance. I am so fucking stupid, and so fucking sorry. And… I’ve read it, you know. The last text you ever sent me. And, I couldn’t forget our kiss, too. To this day, I still replay it, like I’m a fucking broken disc, trying to make sense of a single kiss we shared years ago… Because you haunt me. You always have. And I’m barely brave enough to face you. And you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. »

He paused.

« If I could give you my career, my knee, my entire life, I would. In a heartbeat. »

He breathed out, letting his head down, accepting the fact that you, turning to look into his eyes, was not happening, no matter how much you were fighting every single one of your muscles to not succumb.

« Fence through me, Y/N. Coach me, live everything I took from you through me. I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss you so much that, » He practically collapses, kneeling on the humid grass before you, his nose grazing your broken bone. « I want to be anything for you, and I will do anything for you. Please. »

As if you were programmed to do so, your palm found his thick glowing hair, smoothly gliding beneath your hand. The thoughts that formed in your head made you tremble, as the truth of your following statement planted daggers through your heart and knee.

« I’m not the girl you miss anymore. »

Your eyes went from the calming auras forming at the surface of the pond, to the stillness of his figure.

« You’re not just a knee, Y/N. » He replied, looking up to you.

Was it the way the teary gaze you fell in love with dived into yours, or the fact that he was the one who just pronounced the very phrase you wished for your parents, doctors, therapists, and boyfriend to tell you, that made your entire self break into tears.

The blood that pumped through your veins, rushed with ache for the unbearable, impossible love that has just crashed onto you, your life and story.

This was it, the fireworks they talked about in novels.

And there he was sniffing on his knees, as your face melted in your soaked palms. Your imagination could have been playing you tricks, drunk on your own tears, but you swore you could hear a bunch of passing-by people gasping and congratulating your « proposal ». Eunseok took notice of your sobs growing in intensity from the irony of it all, and sat back next to you, his thigh now glued to yours. His entire body shielded you from your own violent shakes.

The shushing, and sea-like sound of the weeping willow’s leaves soothed you to sheer sadness, instead of devastation.

He protectively held you for a while.

A while long enough for his tear-stained shirt to dry, whilst your head was still laying on it.

Against the strong, trembling surface of his chest, you thought of how silly it was of you to believe that you would remain unfazed, unmoved, grossed out even, by whatever he’d have to tell you at this stage of your rehabilitation. It was way too late to apologize, and the damage was way beyond repair by now. Or so you thought, before he’d crawl out of his guilt, begging to your feet for you, and everything you selfishly wished for.

Nevertheless, your cries reflected no relief nor blissful satisfaction in being declared unconditional, almost over-the-top love to.

You cried out of grief, again.

You were now witnessing what could have been the start of the story you have silently, shamefully prayed for, and peeled out of your thoughts when you’d shampoo for a bit too long. The passionate declaration that would fast-forward to a happy, lively, and sporty marriage, that you would daydream about in every rides you’d take. The fireworks, the love that burns the blood and twists the bones, that you have looked for in every corners of the pools you’d have secret dates with your boyfriend.

You loved Anton, though.

Which is why your eyes would take days to completely dry.

Eunseok walked you back into your room, softly pushing on a wheelchair, since love has weakened you all over. He tried to break a laugh out of you with slaloms motions, or teased you by having longer than necessary conversations with whoever passed by him. You’d try to roll away to get faster to your room, but he’d grip on your chair hard enough to refrain you from it. It made you giggle. There were few things that he did that didn’t have this effect on you.

He never changed, only became a better fencer.

So, easier to love.

Thus, impossible to let go of.

And you were doomed to do it.

3 mere hours weren’t close to enough to catch up on 7 years apart, especially since it used to take you entire evenings to properly retell what happened over lunch, even though you sat at the ends of the same table.

But there was no time to tell him about your pregnancy scare, the 6 months long fight you’ve had with Anton’s coach, the day you went skydiving, or the drama that happened over that one couple in your class you used to hate on back then. Because Anton would be there in less than half an hour. And because you cared about him, there was no way you’d have Eunseok like this again.

Each and every seconds that passed before the inevitable felt all too cruel.

Here you sat, under the ugly grey light of the room. It would be the last one you’d shine in as the best friend you once were to him, and vice versa.

Even under the ugly grey light, setting eyes on him only further confirmed the truth you were terrified to spend a lifetime coping with.

It was him.

Your greatest love was him.

After all, Anton never fenced with you.

The conversation you were having on each of the boys’ career unwillingly died down now. Silence sat right between you, amplifying your fear of saying goodbye. It was palpable, the force that linked the two of you, now at breaking point.

The way your throat painfully knotted itself even made you doubt on the way you parted from fencing. Was it less, or as painful as choosing your boyfriend of seven years, the one guy you have fantasized about all your youth, over the one person who made the word « soulmate » make sense ?

Each of you exchanged sorry glances, carefully coated in humble gratefulness for the moment.

« Tell me there’s a way. » He ended up sighing, lacing his fingers together, wishing for his other hand to be yours.

You tilted your head in confusion, curiosity, and in all honesty, slight fear of what he was about to say.

« Tell me there’s a way I can be yours. »

His last desperate word lingered in the air. The air that felt harder to breathe all of the sudden.

He was right, there had to be a way.

So you searched for inspiration on his face, lightly twisted in worry. And found it, on the tiny horizontal scar right above his left eyebrow. Seeing it up-close made you 18 again, watching your sword wiggling around in his hands as he yelled out matching sound effects. The memory of a single tear of blood slowly falling along his startled face made you chuckle on your growing tears. And here stood the adult version of the boy you were, and will always be, deeply fond of.

You still couldn’t believe you were losing him.

Sport was the most beautiful thing that have ever came into your life. Your baby teeth would fall into your helmet, and grow back during the youth you sacrificed to the épée. The only thing that made your parents buy four other shelves for your trophies was setting your mind to win. Your mind never lusted over anything else than winning, and seeing others putting their entire self into it. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you lived for it.

The thirst that turns your body in a unrecognizable anxiety-induced carnage, the adrenaline that endlessly floods from your brain to your toes, and the orgasmic, other-worldly sensation of having the victorious status placed upon you, shining like a crown.

And if you wouldn’t be able to live through it all again, you deserved to watch it unravel.

Your lips popped out of the cage of teeth you trapped them in.

A tiny smirk stretched them, illuminating your desperate face.

« Become an Olympic Champion next year. »

🤺

14-13

Anton’s hand felt too heavy on your knee, your scar jolted awake in bolts of pains by his sweet, sweet thumb grazing it. This abnormal pressure was shared by every pieces of fabric that stuck on your sprinkling skin. The scores and whistles controlled your now manual breathing. Your stomach tied itself around nothing recent to digest. You barely blinked, your blown up irises hysterically dancing in between the two players, studying their every movements. You also turned your knuckles a worrying shade of white as you gripped your plastic seat.

It was safe to say : you were losing your shit.

Eunseok have carelessly lost points all over the second part, screaming his rage out every time he did so. Your tongue could be bleeding from all those times you have refrained yourself from joining him in his act, or downstairs. Glancing at the score, realizing that you might be a point away for your world to collapse, was making your skin burn in all sorts of places, an acidic taste slowly blooming in your mouth. If it weren’t for the delightful, gut-wrenching spectacle you were a lucky live witness of, you’d be cursing yourself to the hells for that stupid challenge you gave him.

You actually thought he wouldn’t make it to the finale.

But now that he did, you found yourself praying for Yannick Borel’s immediate downfall.

« En Garde… »

He just had to miss two times.

« Prêts ? »

But he also just had to score, once.

« Allez ! »

You stopped breathing.

The players hopped in place, as did your indexes on the edge of your seat, as if they were little characters you controlled. The squeaky sound of their soles hitting the graphic floor echoed for a little while, until Eunseok decided to first break synchronization on their hops.

He feinted attacks on Borel’s under defensed’s left arm. And another one, down his thigh.

If Eunseok was a bolder fencer, he already would’ve had the point, you thought.

But he was the surprising the type.

The type you used to hate confronting.

Constantly playing defense, until they see a breach open, an opportunity to seize when your guard is down, and run to you with big steps, like a recurrent nightmare catching you up in your needed sleep.

Kissing you with death.

Borel understood, and grew accustomed to his attacking style at least 5 points ago.

Though, he still had a hard time defensing every parts of his body against it.

He defended his arm by wrapping it around his lower torso, crouched, now reaching for Eunseok’s thighs.

His sword swooped the air.

14-14

Eunseok landed from his jump, his point stinging Borel’s shoulder blades.

As soon as he scooped the victory off Yannick’s back, you were on your feet, screaming your lungs out. Anton jolted, placing his hand on your hips as an attempt to hold you if you were to fall. He looked up at you, watching you roar a « Come on » from the depths of your guts, a sound he has never quite heard before.

Under the Palais’ stadium lights, each and every strands of the crown of your hair, backlit to shades of blues and golds, made you look like an actual goddess. There he sat, in awe of the woman he was certain he could spend a lifetime worshipping. And there you stood, knowing you should be peeling your eyes away from Eunseok’s sweaty smile of relief plastered all over the screens, especially since Anton had a light grip on your shirt, but you thoroughly knew that you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop looking at him, the dark shiny hair strands that were glued to his forehead, the dimples that dug through his cheeks, and then, the switch in his eyes and furrowed eyebrows, when it was time to put the mask on, and lock back in.

You were the last of your row to sit back down as the arena grew quieter.

Waves of panic in it’s purest state crashed on your entire being, in forces that felt as if your soul would detach itself from your body. You were reaching stress-levels you thought unbeatable minutes ago. Anton quickly took notice of your trembling legs, and perfect manicure progressively getting ruined. His hands shielded yours from your shaking teeth, as he made you look at him for a second, thankfully, during time-out.

The sight of his soft traits relaxed yours in a miraculous instant.

His touch cooled you down.

His thumb lovingly caressing the side of your fist slowed down your breathing.

And as if your heart haven’t found enough peace in him, he reached for your hair, petting it, murmuring « Are you okay? » to the thresholds of your tortured soul.

You nodded, gulping your huge lie down your chest, where you felt a big pressure. It finally came down to you, in a flash, the absolute stupidity of your challenge.

You were possibly a point away from losing the one thing that made your life hold together.

The person who picked you up, pieces by pieces, from your shattered state on the court’s floor, to your first teary-eyed jogging session along the Han River.

The one person you’ve granted access to each and every parts of your body.

The one person who’d peel all of the pistachios, and gut out all the pomegranates for you.

The one person who’d sneak a sample of your perfume in all of his coat’s pockets.

The one person you’d cook for his mother, father, siblings, and himself.

The one person you’ve made a home with, and made a home of.

In the end, Anton has proved himself to be your favorite person in the entire world.

In the end, you were the one that always refused to teach him fencing, for your own selfish sake, when all he wanted was to know you, and each of the worlds you belonged to completely.

There was a part of your soul that you’ve denied him access to, and instead of complaining, or forcing you, he just waited.

You never ended your nod, your head still hanging low, out of shame, guilt, pain and everything else that has been crushing you for the entirety of the combat. Your partner peeked at your hidden face, and needed no more information than the muffled sound of you sniffing to bury your head in his chest. The last point was about to be gained, by a player or another, but you couldn’t peel yourself away from him. You couldn’t watch it.

It was better this way.

Everything was better in Anton’s arms.

Even losing him.

The same squeaky sound of the fencer’s shoes on the platform echoed yet again through the hall. The church-like silence that dances with them, though, have never felt so heavy on everyone’s shoulders. It was okay, though, with Anton’s palms on yours, and the beating of his heart to focus on. It oddly felt comforting to imagine that he knew about what was at stake here. His tight hold on you, feeling like the last grasp of air a drowning person would do. His focused eyes, replacing yours, as if you sent him to battle to death with Eunseok for you.

The actual battle that occurred beneath you felt like a never-ending one. As calm and still as you could be, you tested your patience and almost meditated to the sound of Eunseok’s hops and grunts, tickling your burning ear. Even if you’ve mentally fought yourself a few times to just fuck it and turn around, Anton wouldn’t allow you.

You were stuck to the bone, until the whistle would blow.

And it did.

And the announcer’s voice from the speakers, unknowingly, cracked open your life into two, one part of which you will never know the outcome of.

A part you were doomed to mourn, again, forever.

15-14

—

The sea of blue bleachers slowly cleared itself above you, as the Korean, French, and German flags lowered themselves to the ground. The rain of confettis slowly died down, also, pooling on people’s hair and shoulders. The crowd left in waves, the time in between the beautiful spectacle of sport they were all privileged enough to see, and the train of their lives about to restart, hanging in the air, lingering. Your eyes aimlessly swept around the Grand Palais, encountering as many celebrating and saddened faces as it could in a matter of seconds.

Though, it left you thoughtless.

You felt like nothing but a bag of blood, bones and flesh, walking in your man’s steps, lighter and lighter as you walked, free of all the stress that previously crushed your heart.

He guided you to an event you were certain of replaying throughout the rest of your life, but you numbly followed him still.

And you arrived to destination. Your first view being Eunseok’s shoes a meter away from yours.

Losing your knee, your life, your entire career, and processing it all from the beginning each time you fell asleep, was a hundred times easier than simply looking up.

Anton, your sweet Anton, slipped his hand out of your grasp to swiftly put it on your lower back, before he went reaching for Eunseok, who just like you, simply missed his college best friend.

The devastating sight of their embrace cured you from your aches. You saw love pour out of them, for each other. So much, that you briefly caught yourself suspecting a secret connexion, as some of the lingering touches and glances they offered each other happened to be a second too long. An inch too loving.

You didn’t have time, to investigate, though, as it was now your cue to get stabbed in the heart. You thought you’d explode out of love when you’d crash into Eunseok’s arms, and feel his heavy, dangling medal dig its way into your ribs. You thought you’d faint, or die, even.

Even though they were close to happening, none of them occurred.

He caged you in his sobbing body, matching yours, you melted, as did he. Your respective embraces crushed each of you, as much as it soothed you. You, by the salty smell of your firsts loves, fencing and Eunseok. And him, by the vanilla smell of the hair he’d lock in a singular braid before you’d go to battle, whether it was under the bleachers, or projectors. He had to stop himself from running his hand through it, for the sole public of this scene silently grew impatient, and jealous.

You knew it.

He knew it.

And you stayed there, privately celebrating, inhaling and already missing each other.

Before he could peel himself off, you heard him whisper an apology by the crook of your neck, instantly raising the hairs on it, and making your fists tremble around his fresh suit.

He patted the new growing sobs away on your back, and looked up to the glass ceiling, through which he caught the moon, looking down on your doomed, broken souls.

You eventually parted, as the universe, and the referee decided.

« Congratulations on your medal, Eunseok. » You managed to say, looking directly into his eyes.

You haven’t known any heavier burden to carry other than the white silver rock on your ring finger, matching the shiny medal that covered the pieces you left his heart in.

« Congratulations on your wedding, Y/N. » He replied, sincerely smiling.

GOTHAMGF©

author's note : muahahaha.... this is my very first riize work and work in a long while. hope you enjoyed, I really liked writing this :)

#riize ff #riize masterlist #eunseok #anton #riize ensemble #riize school #eunsoek x reader #Anton x reader #fencing ff #basketball ff #swimmer anton #riize imagines

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cravetive · 8 months ago

Text

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟙𝟘

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 & 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧.

previous chapters

“Will the Jury foreperson please stand?”

The judge’s voice is a mesh of muffles and white noise in Jin’s ears - his mind absent from the courtroom as his client faces his sentencing. Everything seems to move in slow motion around him, the whispers of his client asking anxious questions, only further inducing the headache that presses harshly against his temples.

Jin hasn’t slept in days, each morning blending in with the night, an endless cycle that leaves him spent. he wishes he can say it’s due to this case or any of the other 9 he’s currently handling for that matter but that’s not what has been leaving him wide eyed in his bed at ungodly hours of the night, in fact they haven’t even played a factor.

Today he finds himself representing yet another vile criminal, charged with a crime that has shaken society to its core - the trial televised for the entire world to see. His eyes scurry away from the camera that stands right in front of him, antonizing a certain anxiousness that Jin has never felt in a courtroom before. The stakes are stacked high, his reputation on the line and yet, he can’t bring himself to focus - his heed placed elsewhere.

From the untouched glass of water that sits before him he can see his distorted reflection, the plum hue under his eyes further demonstrating the stress his body is undergoing - his compressed chest unable to feel relief no matter how much he tries to breathe.

would his client feel reassured of his fate if he knew that it wasn’t one of the best lawyers sitting besides him now but instead a ghost?

Jin’s mind wanders through the walls, his eyes scanning the nearest exit and for an instance he feels as though this is his own trial, one in which no one would come to save him - all evidence pointing to his guilty conscience all while the cameras capture every uneasy breath he struggles to take.

As his stare travels back to the Judge - he notes her disapproving expression, it is the look of someone who knows what he has done, oblivious to the fact that Jin is already inside a prison, his own morality caging him inside of a cell that has no key.

He has condemned himself to feelings he can’t control, all because he wanted to be a better man - He’s unable to balance his integrity on the scale of good and bad. his inner darkest fears shaken by the mere phone call of someone he owes his life to, someone he has pledged loyalty to.

The sound of Jungkook’s voice still rings inside his ears, a nauseating reminder of Jin’s betrayal.

When you came to him asking for help he had already foreseen how things would play out, you had unknowingly put him against a wall, a sword pressed to his chest and all he could do was stretch out his hand and aid you in bringing down one of his closest friends.

For the first time he had a choice to stray away from the life of depravity he had chosen, to clear his conscience of all the bad he had done along his career. You were the first person he had ever helped who he truly felt was innocent, how could he say no while he saw the despair in your eyes?

So, he decided to defend you without a single beat of hesitation, forgetting his loyalty belonged to someone else.

That late night conversation with Jungkook had left him burdened, bringing out a certain paranoia that perhaps remained dormant inside of him, lured into slumber with each day he met you in that coffee shop where he would convince himself he was being virtous and although, the phone call was short and vague, he had engraved Jungkook’s impatient tone inside his head.

Jin didn’t need clues to conclude what his friend was after, he didn’t need to ask what it was Jungkook needed from him to repay his debt, Jin already knew. Jungkook’s rampage in search of you being all the city could speak of, the destruction he left in his wake landing on Jin’s radar like the morning news.

He never meant to get involved, in fact he had preferred to stay oblivious. How could he choose? you his dearest friend, someone he looked to protect and aid - and then him ... .his childhood friend, the one he always seemed to end up picking up the broken pieces for, no matter how much his hands bled.

Both sides tug at his fealty.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?”

Whilst his client trembles in his chair, Jin feels the pressure of his phone that is kept turned off inside his pocket - the thought of receiving yet another call from Jungkook, beginning to torment him in ways his pride will never allow him to divulge.

“Yes”

He needs to focus, this is important but his mind drifts, searching for ways in which he can justify his decisions - trying to find a way out of the predicament he has placed himself in, in a way only a man like him can.

“We the jury find the defendant not guilty on all counts of murder and assault.”

A hefty sigh leaves Jin’s mouth, his hands clamping together underneath the table as his eyes flutter shut - he had hoped that this relief that washes over him now would be enough to clear his mind of the thoughts that burdened him but reality is, nothing can. He feels his client grip his arm and pull him into a hug - his cheers filling the ears of the abstracted man.

At another time Jin would’ve probably celebrated too, after all was this not a demonstration of his capabilities? Yet, he can’t bring himself to cheer, to celebrate nor to feel triumph. Jin is used to walking out of courtrooms a victorious man but now he is rather conflicted and as he pushes away from the strong embrace his client offers him, he finds his eyes trailing back to the victims family - offering them a silent apology, one that he never tends to offer.

Something has changed inside of him - a shift he can’t understand. Previously, Jin had never bothered to care if his clients were guilty or not, if he was a bad man for even protecting them, perhaps because his clients were only reflections of someone he knew, someone who he has been great at defending.

But Now he feels just as culpable as the man standing next to him, the one who has stabbed his wife to death.

In the past he would’ve defended Jungkook above everything else and walked past a victim like you, a victorious man.

Something has changed.

“The verdict is sustained, The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned.”

The Judge slams her gabble and soon the murmuring and heavy whimpers of the victims family fill Jin’s ears, eating away at his vulnerability. The sound of their agony causes his heart to rumble - the sensation becoming too much to withstand.

His own shame begging to beat him down.

His vision is blurred, unable to concentrate on anything as he stands there motionless

- his intestines turning as he finds the eyes of the man whom he has just freed. Jin has fought like hell to prove without a reasonable doubt that this man has not committed the crime he has been accused of, even if within himself he harbors the truth that only the 2 of them know.

The worst part of it all is that Jin knows he will be back here - perhaps with someone much worse than the man that he has just defended and he can’t help but question if the real reason why he fights so hard in the first place is to prove he himself isn’t like them.

“Thank you Mr. Kim '' his client exclaims with excitement whilst he interlocks his hand with Jin’s in a firm shake. Jin’s stare remains withdrawn - his mouth unable to open and form any words and as he glances down at their knotted hands he pictures blood dripping from them.

His body runs cold, his hand retracting quickly while his blinking eyes inspect the skin there.

He’s losing it.

“How will I ever repay you?” Jin’s eyes snap back to stare at his client, the room beginning to spin around him and he tries to smile, to at least pretend like he shares this man’s joy but he can’t move a muscle and as he goes to speak he hopes his tone wont give away the immediate regret that has settled inside of him.

“I just hope you’ll never need me again.”

But they always do and Jin is more than positive he will reoffend - he will take another life, he will leave another bloody trail and Jin prays to any god that will listen that when that day comes the DA will have enough evidence to put him away.

His client responds with a mocking laugh, his chest heaving at the joke Jin has just made but Jin means it with every morsel of his being, his role as the devil's advocate beginning to eat away at his soul.

Jin can feel all eyes on him as he begins to step out of the courtroom, lowering his head as the cameras flash in his direction - the victory he should be indulging in, feels more like a loss, the way in which he has let his previous wins feed his ego is starting to disgust him. His steps are no longer confident and he fights with the urge to turn around and request the judge to reconsider, he wants nothing more than to beg her to give his client the full weight of the law.

Even if he has to drop to his knees for it.

As he steps out into the empty hall his eager hands reach into his pocket, sliding his phone out and staring at the screen until it turns back to life, his weary eyes scanning the notifications that flood in but he can only see emails from his firm and texts from a girl he met at a bar a few nights ago when he found himself sleepless again

none of them from the man who has taken his appetite away.

He sighs, standing completely still and then the hallway that once had been completely quiet fills with reporters - greedy cameras and microphones waiting for his client to exit the courtroom and all Jin hopes for is for him not to say anything stupid.

For him not to leave another mess for Jin to clean up.

He holds his breath, deciding to take the nearest exit in his wishful attempt to avoid the eye of the media. This time he feels no desire to stand beside his client as he throws out thank you’s and excuses, he can’t digest the idea of reporters asking him questions regarding his morality - of why he chooses to defend the people he does or if he thinks they are guilty.

9 times out of 10 they most likely are.

The cold air ripples through Jin’s suit as he makes a quick exit of the courthouse, his eyes focused on the sun which sets between the tall buildings ahead of him, the city roaring with life. He can hear laughter, traffic, and random conversations from those who pass by. the sounds - the normalcy in everything and he has almost forgotten that time hasn’t stopped, no matter how stagnant he feels.

though, the distraction does not last long as he feels a faint buzz against his chest and he’s swiftly reeled back into his reality - his breaths becoming labored, his eyes darting in every direction. Once he again finds himself succumbing to paranoia.

Jin’s shaky hands slide the phone from the front pocket of his suit and he stares at the unknown number flashing through the screen for a moment - every nerve in his body standing at attention, the lethargy that had clung to his body dissipating into thin air.

For a second he contemplates if he should answer, he wonders if he’s prepared to hear Jungkook’s voice again but even if he isn’t what other option does he have, avoiding the issue would only cause it to grow.

He quickly answers the call and presses the phone to his ear, frantic eyes focusing on the lively city in front of him, attempting to find a random object he can anchor himself to.

“Hello” he answers coldly- trying to conceal the utter worry in his tone.

“Jin” the voice is soft, delicate even and it takes him back to when he was just a college student, sitting across the dining table with a math book in hand, a red pen in the other.

“Y/n” he breathes out, eyes blinking quickly while he registers it’s you on the other line.

“You sound disappointed” you giggle and Jin smiles for a moment, though it does not last.

You are but a reminder of the secret he conceals.

“Uh” Jin chuckles dryly “quite the opposite actually.”

Jin expects to feel at ease, after all you are someone dear to him but he can’t push away the guilt that creeps inside of him while he hears your giggles flow through the line.

In that moment he doesn’t know which voice he would have preferred to hear, yours is supposed to be a breath of fresh air, a cup of cold water to tame the turmoil inside of him. to know you were okay , to know you were safe, to recognize no panic in your voice should be alleviating but the feeling never arrives.

Do you even know who he is? Who he has betrayed for you? Would you still consider him a friend if you were to find out?

“Are you okay?” He asks, a question he isn’t fully prepared to make nor one that he has been ready to hear the answer to.

There's a long pause, a pause that Jin doesn’t particularly like. It causes his chest to compress, for his palms to grow cold.

“Yes, im safe.”

It’s not the answer to the question he has asked but he takes it, because if you are safe it means you are okay, right?

Jin hadn’t spoken to you since your swift escape from the Jeon’s banquet and though he had been worried sick for some time, Jungkook had arrived in almost comical timing to strip away his concern for you, replacing it with the sour reminder of the debt he owed.

He wants to pretend that hearing from you is a good thing but your voice, although quiet and careful, stabs away at his heart harshly. So he fakes a heavy sigh, feigning a relief that isn’t there.

“Well, I'm glad,” Jin mutters.

“Are you okay?”

Jin can’t bring himself to answer that, his mouth pressing together and his jaw cramping. His eyes stare into nothingness as his brain tries to compile a good enough answer, an answer worthy enough to bring you some kind of ease.

Jin begins walking towards his car, briefcase held tightly in his hand as the loud sounds of the city begin to drown out his inner thoughts again. He should be okay, He has just won another case, another accomplishment to add to his resume and he contemplates if he should share this with you, but he fears you’re going to read through his tone, peeling away at his facade.

Nothing can hide the anxiousness that sprouts inside of him, sprawling and taking up spaces where his tranquility once remained.

“Yeah, i've been fine” he responds quietly, offering you a lie - hoping that you will take it.

A heavy sigh falls from your mouth and Jin inhales sharply, while he gives you a breath of air - he pulls himself deeper into despair.

“Good” you whisper, your vocal cords burning after having held your breath.

Jin blinks quickly trying to moisten his tired and scratchy eyes as if you could see him through the phone. his hand subconsciously moving to straighten his tie and suit jacket, perfecting his deception.

“I saw you on the news giving that press conference on the case” you comment, a smile emerging on your face, one that Jin can picture in his mind.

“Mhm” Jin hums, caught off guard by the topic.

“You looked very professional, very mister lawyer” your voice holds childish excitement and Jin smiles again, closing his eyes and beginning to imagine a life where he is but a typical lawyer and you his friend, a girl who hasn’t gone through the things that you have. A Y/n that has remained the same cheerful and spoiled girl that he once knew so well, never having been pushed into a life of crime and deception, much like he has.

His Y/n, his friend that he will never betray.

“Oh yeah? I wore my good tie today” he jokes, beginning to descend the steps in front of the courthouse.

“How did it go? Did you free the guy?” you inquire and Jin remains silent, his chest becoming heavier with the question.

“Give me details, i want to know how you kicked ass today” the harmony of your laughter causes him further shame, There is so much you don’t know and no amount of bravery can convenience Jin to tell you.

“Well you know me i can’t lose” Jin sighs and his line fills with your laughter again.

“It’s a good thing I have you on my side then.”

Those words cause Jin’s heart to stop full throttle, the hand that presses the phone to his ear growing limp. It takes everything for him not to divulge the truth, to not break your heart further. If he’s honest it's not clear to him whose side he stands in, who is he truly helping? For someone as calculated as him, that question still remains unanswered.

His god complex has led him to believe there is a way he can help the both of you without betraying the other but atlas, as he hears your voice for the first time in weeks he concludes he has been foolish.

Dread fills him up, his body unresponsive and he feels as though the phone call has lasted an eternity, your innocent statement only further torturing him. His intentions were always to protect you like an older brother would, trying to conceal you from the man he had built a bond with so many years ago, but who is he kidding, who is he lying to?

To you or to himself.

“You should come to visit me, it gets lonely here - I thought I would be able to escape it but it appears it has followed me here too.”

Your voice is but a whisper yet Jin can hear the strain in it, can almost picture you swallowing back tears that you have not allowed yourself to release in a long time.

“We can meet at the cafe” he interjects, purposely avoiding your offer.

“Oh don’t be silly, I trust you.”

His heart lurches forward and he rips the phone from his ear for a moment, unable to endure the conversation any longer, you are oblivious to the pain you are causing him, to the agony he is putting himself through the longer he stays on the call with you.

“Y/n i think -” he speaks into the line.

“86 Pyeongchang- dong, Jongno-gu-”

Jin shuts his eyes as the address falls from your lips, a grimace pouring over his features and he wishes you hadn’t said that, he prays he can forget.

“So what do you say?” your voice echoes.

Jin clears his throat, trying to break himself out of the panicked trance he is currently in, his throat aches as he tries to find an excuse good enough for you not to suspect him, because what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t go? What kind of friend would he be if he did?

His mouth opens to give you a gentle rejection, his eyes roaming the front of the courthouse whilst he trashes his brain for an excuse. “You know i would love to but-” his eyes stop moving and the words he means to say trail into silence, from the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of a black SUV - its owner leaned comfortably against it as a puff of smoke falls from their lips - their eyes completely focused on him.

Jin can feel every muscle in his body constrict, his skin growing pale - he blinks, hoping that the sight before him is only but a product of his lack of sleep and paranoia but when his eyes open again, the same man remains. his eyes held in a glare as a mischievous grin rips through the cigarette that lays between his lips and the dread Jin had been trying to suppress for days now comes pummeling down all too fast through his veins.

“Jin?” you ask, noticing the long pause.

From where Taehyung stands he watches as Jin stares wide eyed in his direction. He leans away from the SUV, unfolding his arms from his chest, offering Jin a small wave.

“Jin?” you call out again and this time Jin’s eyes trail back to the phone in his hand.

“I have to go Y/n '' he whispers, there's a change in his tone but you can barely make it out from the shuffling that follows after, your eyebrows furrowing with concern.

you aren’t unfamiliar with Jin's tendency to abruptly say goodbye but this time it’s different, you can sense panic through the silence he gives you - your line now crowded with the sound of the city.

“Wait, Jin what is happening?” you ask frantically and Jin can hear you but he doesn’t answer, his mind wondering if you would be this concerned for him if you knew who he truly was.

Jin ends the call before he can speak again, sliding his phone into his suit jacket carefully - he clears his throat and adjusts his posture, his hand moving to push back the strands of his hair that have fallen in front of his face. swiftly changing his expression from one of utter fear to casualness, the shift causing him to grow dizzy.

“Taehyung,” he calls out eagerly through his teeth.

Taehyung studies Jin’s demeanor, his fingers moving to dispose of the cigarette in his mouth before he forces a chuckle out.

“Jin, long time no see” he responds, the lack of enthusiasm in his voice appareant.

Jin scoffs and laughs slightly, trying his hardest to conceal the panic that rips through him.

“It's always a good day when you don't have to see me ” Jin replies and the statement causes Taehyung's smile to slip. In the past Taehyung would’ve taken the insignificant words as banter but given the circumstances, given the strain that has formed between the friendship it sounds more like a threat to him.

“Is this something that couldn’t wait for office hours?” Jin continues, looking towards the 2 other men who stand beside Taehyung, their hands held by their belt - indication of the gun’s that remain concealed there.

It's not a friendly visit.

“I wanted to stop by to congratulate you on the big win” Taehyung states but Jin knows better, they’ve never shown up for any of his other one’s.

“A bouquet of flowers and a pretty card would have sufficed” Jin says nonchalantly standing in front of them now, the grip on his briefcase growing tighter with each second that passes by, his body consumed with the urgent need to throw up.

“I was watching you know?” Taehyung smirks “you looked a bit off, a bit nervous.”

Jin’s smile fades, his jaw locking with the reminder of his previous state in the courtroom - the vile memories flood into his head and his casual facade drops for a moment, his eyes flickering with distress.

“Me? Nervous?” Jin chuckles, attempting to recuperate from the humiliation.

“Im Kim Seok-Jin.”

“That you are” Taehyung distills poison with his words, his tone simmering with a certain harshness.

“Jungkook wants to congratulate you too, you should come with us” Taehyung adds, his smirk pulled wide.

Jin’s heart slams into his chest, his head heavy on his shoulders. He wonders how much Jungkook knows, if he is aware of the role he has played in the chaos his family is currently facing and as his eyes remain on Taehyung's face he can’t read past his meek expression - his talent to perceive things momentarily tested by the exhaustion that sinks in his body.

He knows Taehyung is not making an offer he can decline, but rather an invitation he has to accept. A pact of loyalty made many years ago imposed by guilty reminders of the person he used to be.

“You guys shouldn’t have gone through the trouble”

Jin laughs sarcastically - stepping closer to Taehyung.

“Trust me, it's no trouble at all” Taehyung taunts, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head.

Jin can feel his throat closing in on itself - his eyes lowering to the guns that poke out of the pressed suits the men standing along with them wear, warning him that the friendship he once shared with Jungkook and Taehyung has changed. No longer were they just boys being boys, no longer did they blindly trust each other.

Now they were men waiting for the moment one crossed the other.

Jin nods faintly, his eyes looking in every direction ensuring there’s no one around to bear witness to what is happening or perhaps hoping someone is.

He does not object, instead he willingly steps forward even if he feels his heart racing with each movement he makes - the sensation is uncanny, he should be able to trust the man who stands holding out the door for him but contrary to what he knows he should be feeling, the desire to run for the hills remains.

Jin can feel the thick, tense air choke him as the car peels away from the courthouse, his heart feeling as though it's stuck inside of his stomach, applying agonizing pressure and though he sits in complete silence, unable to move an inch - he can feel Taehyung eyes intently observing him.

He wants to say something, anything that will bring them back to like when they were younger - longing to mend what has been fractured but no words come to him and as the seconds pass by in the harrowing car ride alongside someone whom he once shared everything with, he comes to the inevitable conclusion that he doesn’t want to reconcile. The similarities that once had tied them all together now being differences he can’t bring himself to overlook. Yet, The desire to make amends leaves its residual inside of him.

Time is cruel and they were not exempt from its vicious wrath.

It had all begun with a school punishment, one that would lead Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jin to cross paths and become the bestest of friends and while Jungkook and Taehyung enjoyed a life of luxury and gluttony all thanks to the blood money their families were producing, Jin fought against the poverty that ripped through his. Who could blame him for wanting that same life? Not when his friends had allowed him such quick access to it, not when Jungkook paid for his college education under the promise that Jin would some day work for him.

A promise that Jin had kept for a long time, until he came face to face with the truth of what his friends had become or in retrospect what they had always been.

Back then Jin never thought of the consequences his actions would someday bring him, back then all he wanted was to be in Jungkook’s and Taehyung's world and now that he was, now that he was who had always dreamed of being - he was forever indebted.

What could he do now that their interests no longer aligned? The only person that could blame Jin now was himself.

The SUV arrives at the small restaurant Jin has visited many times before, it is the same restaurant where they have all shared their first drinks, their first heart breaks. Where they shared stories of their childhoods and their dreams. Where Jungkook had served Jin his entire future on a silver platter and the starving boy had eaten from it without a second thought.

The meal now heavy on his shoulders, the weight of the burden forcing him to kneel before a man he has betrayed.

As Jin steps out he notices Jungkook’s men standing along every corner of the street, evidence of the havoc he has contributed to in full display. His stare lowers as he stands in front of the restaurant and with a heavy sigh he takes in all that has changed since the last time he was here. memories of their laughter fills his mind and it dissolves his courage, in its place now a feeling of vulnerability he does not like nor is willing to accept. He senses Taehyung’s presence standing besides him and then feels his hand harshly slam on his shoulder, a tight grip coming soon after.

“Welcome back” Taehyung whispers eerily into his ear.

Jin is guided inside by the men who have accompanied him, Taehyung following closely behind. He hasn’t seen Jungkook in a long time. he fears he might not be able to recognize him, fears he won't be able to see the boy that he had once defended against the world, the boy who trusted him but due to the lack of contact probably no longer does.

Not that he would expect him to either.

He notes the vacancy inside of the restaurant which is usually packed with customers at this time, all the tables empty while music softly plays through the space. It reminds Jin of a museum. While the outside looks like a completely different place, the inside appears to be stuck in the same year the 3 of them had made the pact to always stay together.

He is soon filled with acrid nostalgia, the same feeling he had felt when he first saw Taehyung standing in front of the courthouse.

As he continues his path he can feel his steps falter and it's like he’s forcing himself to walk, unable to take the guilt that makes a home inside of him the longer he remains in here. He is reminded of who he was, of who he no longer is and it aches, an ache his sleepless body can’t process.

When Jin reaches the back of the restaurant his eyes land on Jungkook, his lungs drawing a breath he doesn’t dare release as he scans the man who does not notice his arrival. Jungkook sits in one of the many empty tables, his face lowered as he brings another string of noodles to his mouth yet, there’s not a hint of tranquility in his demeanor, his shoulders tensed and eyebrows furrowed.

It's apparent he is disgruntled, Jin can perceive the strain his body and mind are under from where he stands- the scene before him causing him to grow mortified and his thoughts don't miss a beat as they remind him that this is his doing.

“Kook” Taehyung speaks, dragging Jungkook’s attention to the men that stand before him, apprehension carved into his expression.

The breath Jin has been gripping in his lungs escapes through his nostrils as he takes in Jungkook’s face - his skin pale and eyes hollowed and if he thought he was tired, perhaps drained then Jungkook has got him beat.

“Was any of this necessary?” Jin raises his eyebrows, a smirk forming on his lips - his voice echoes within the empty restaurant and he concludes it is best to push his conflicted thoughts to the side.

Jin can see the exhaustion in Jungkook's eyes, proof of the many nights he has spent in search for you and Jin struggles to believe that it’s just anger that fuels him but he concludes that there is too much he has missed and although he wants to think that he is staring at a friend, just as he had expected it’s like he is facing a complete stranger.

Jungkook slowly wipes his mouth and pushes away the plates in front of him, a smirk crawling onto his mouth accompanied with a small laugh.

“Just a bit of guidance, you know in case you got lost” he chews.

“How polite of you” Jin retorts sarcastically.

In spite of the fact they both attempt to conceal the animocity, the distance between the two friends is evident. Their bond strained, the thread that once held them together a pull away from snapping and they can both sense it as their eyes met.

“Take a seat” Jungkook offers, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him.

“Im fine here” Jin responds, eyes glancing over at the men who stand on each side of Jungkook, holding the same threatening posture as the ones who had shown up with Taehyung moments before.

“Jin” Jungkook snaps, his patience withering away with each minute that passes.

“Sit.”

This time his voice is stern, demanding and it rattles Jin’s composure.

Jungkook’s glare holds irritation; his fruitless vendor slowly drives him further away from rationality. The utter desperation that runs through his body makes him grow a little bit more insolent as time ticks by.

Jin pulls out the chair in front of him and slowly sits in it- concern written all over his expression as he stares Jungkook down.

“How have you been Jungkook?” Jin asks, the worry in his tone genuine.

“ I'm pretty you know the answer to that” Jungkook retorts, pouring himself another cup of whiskey.

Jin’s eyes trail from Jungkook to the amber liquid that falls into the glass, a grimace emerging on his expression while he watches the alcohol hit the rim.

“Well now you have me here, what is it that you need?” Jin clears his throat, he knows it's a stupid question to ask, he has already made his own assumptions of what this is all about but he opts to feign ignorance.

Jungkook raises the overflowing glass to his lips, the taste causing him to hiss but he takes another gulp and then another until his tongue grows numb and his chest aches - the glass now half empty.

“Oh i'm sorry, am i taking up your time Mr. Lawyer?” Jungkook leans his head to the side, a crazed look in his eyes “are you too busy for me? All those big cases, all those big wins” Jungkook's words drag with venom - dispersing into the hostile air and trickling down Jin’s skin.

“All thanks to me of course” he concludes and Jin lowers his head, a small chuckle emitting from his lips.

“Is that why I'm here then? You thought I needed a reminder?” Jin comments.

“It seemed like you had forgotten” Jungkook snaps.

But Jin hasn’t, The thought that he has everything he has because of a criminal is rather ironic given his line of work, an irony that has enabled him to defend the most evil kind of men, something he has never been able to remove from the back of his head, the only thing that keeps him from believing he is a good person.

“You have been holding onto that one for a while haven’t you” Jin smirks, a hint of repulsion in his tone.

“Trust me i don't forget, i have to live with that decision for the rest of my life” Jin adds bitterly and Jungkook’s expression twists with certain chagrin.

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back, placing the glass in his hand carefully on the table. He presses his lips together with distaste, his eyes closing for a moment while he allows Jin’s words to settle in his brain.

Jungkook knows how much his decisions have brought them apart, it hurts him to know that now Jin can no longer see him as a friend and though the remorse remains packed up inside of him, there are no words significant enough that can express it.

Yet, they both know he had no other choice. He couldn’t dream like Jin could - couldn’t choose a career apart from the one forced on him the day his parents were killed but he doesn’t dare open his mouth to defend himself this time, allowing their friendship to fall victim to collateral damage.

“I need to know where Y/n is, Jin.”

Everything becomes muffled for Jin once again and those emotions that had left him trapped within his own mind in the courtroom come back crashing down all too fast, his throat compressing, which he tries to remedy with a gulp.

He has known the motive for this meeting since that phone call and yet, nothing has prepared him for the statement Jungkook makes, his stare faltering at what this implicates.

Jin can’t bring himself to speak and when he finally dissects Jungkook’s demeanor he confirms what he has feared all along, Jungkook knows something and though, he might not know the entire extent of his betrayal, the fact that Jungkook believes he can come to him for information is sufficient for his heart to swell with dread.

“Why-” the word comes out a mumble, quieter than a mouse, his mouth filled with cotton as he tries to make sense of what he wants to say or better yet how he will excuse the accusation Jungkook has silently made but his mind is as blank as his stare.

Jungkook watches Jin’s expression with careful eyes and though he is tired and his eyes feel heavy as he blinks, he inspects Jin with precision. ready to pick up on any hint of deceit.

“Have you forgotten who placed you in her life? Or did you convince yourself it was pure coincidence?” Jungkook states “i made you apply to be her tutor, i fabricated recommendations, i made sure that you appeared to be the best fucking tutor there was in fucking korea so that you could keep tabs on her, to ensure that she was living a good life in spite of her fathers endevors.”

Jin lowers his stare, the reminder seeping cruelly inside of him - the fact that he has been lying to you for years revealing itself through Jungkook’s mouth, he has been unable and unwilling to divulge the truth about what his real intentions were when he appeared in your home under the guise of a tutor, of a mentor.

It had been all a lie.

But He had miscalculated how much you would eventually mean to him, how much he would come to want to protect you even from the man he was most loyal to.

He gained your trust, your friendship all so that Jungkook could monitor you and though initially it had been an orchestrated lie, everything else after that has been real.

Jin glances away, his eyes filling with tears. His heart fills with disappointment, with inexpicable pain as his eyes flicker back to Jungkook.

“So Imagine my surprise when i find that you have been meeting her for years” Jungkook spits, his hand sliding a manila folder in front of Jin, his intense glare on Jin as he waits for him to open it.

“Jungkook '' Jin utters, his eyes fixed on the folder lying in front of it.

“Go on” Jungkook demands, his voice jumping from the walls.

Jin sighs heavily, his reluctant hand reaching for the folder. His mind rushing with ideas of what the folder can contain.

His hand trembles against the paper as he throws it open. In Front of him now an array of pictures taken of you and him entering and leaving the small cafe on different occasions and he swears in that moment his heart stops beating.

“Have you been the one that has been putting things in her head? Did you not measure how dangerous this all could be for her?” Jungkook barks.

Jin’s ears ring with the questions thrown in his direction - his hand closing the folder quickly before he pushes it away. He raises his stare back to Jungkook, who hasn’t stopped glaring in his direction.

“You had me followed?” Jin asks.

“Are you surprised?” Jungkook retorts.

“You are insane” Jin scoffs “you have really lost it this time Jungkook - you go around the city destroying everything in your path, go to Yoongi’s club like a fucking manic for what? On a whim that he would know where she is?”

“I'm going to stop you right there Jin,” Jungkook interjects, standing from his chair.

“I would burn this entire city to the ground if it means I get to find her.”

When Jin stares into Jungkook’s eyes he can see the utter determination ripping through his exhaustion.

“I don't know where Y/n is” Jin responds coldly.

Jungkook smirks, his eyes glazing with darkness - his patience withering dangerously thin.

“Please dont take my generosity as weakness Kim Seok-Jin, you will tell me where Y/n is even if i have to torture it out of you” Jungkook regrets those words only after they have been said, his mind flooding with hesitation - the feeling only increasing as he notices the fear he has instilled in Jin.

It pains him to know he has been pushed to this point - his own desperation luring him to see the cause of their strained friendship in Jin’s eyes.

“She is my friend, i would never betray her, if you had been different to her, if you had shown her how much you cared about her then perhaps -” Jin speaks and though the words are meant for Jungkook, it’s like he is trying to convince himself that he wouldn’t betray you once again.

“How much will she consider you a friend when she finds out the truth?” Jungkook asks and Jin can’t answer - he knows Jungkook is right but it doesn’t make the idea of him giving you away any easier.

“When she finds out the real reason you walked into her life? When she knows that you have been my friend for years, covering and cleaning up behind me?”

Jin’s mind is flooded with the memories of all your meetings - of how much he had retracted from the information he had given you in hopes he could conceal the role he had played in the desolate life you had been living.

Jungkook’s dad wasn’t the one that kept his criminal record clean, he was.

And Taehyung’s accident, He was the one who paid that family off.

And all the other countless messes he had made go away, all because they were his friends.

“Why are you so keen on finding her? Haven’t you done enough” Jin asks, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion. He had never seen Jungkook so desperate, if he truly wanted revenge against you he knew Jungkook to be the type of man to wait out that kind of retribution, why was he so relentless, it didn't make sense.

Jungkook lowers his gaze - the clock ticking inside of his head leaving echoes in each empty space that is not taken by the thought of you.

“I have no intentions to hurt her Jin” Jin picks up on the dejection in Jungkook's tone, his stare faltering “not anymore but my father on the other hand, he needs someone to blame - for someone to punish and i need to find her before he can.”

Jin disassociates from the room- a culmination of feelings rampaging through his body and he doesn’t know if Jungkook's words are true, his own lack of sleep and the complexity of the situation leaving him stunt.

will he really protect you in the way he says he will? Or is this another plan?

Another method to get you back in their hands.

Was this for your own good?

“Jin” Jungkook exhales.

The answer Jungkook needs sits on the tip of Jin’s tongue - uncertainty keeping his mouth shut. He can feel his heart drumming rapidly, the sound leaving him deaf. Would this really count as a betrayal? If he was only doing what he thought was best for you?

“Jin” Jungkook repeats, a sense of urgency in his tone.

“Give me-” Jin sighs, tears building on the edge of his eyes. He stares at Jungkook while his chin trembles, his eyes speaking words he can’t bring himself to say.

“86 Pyeongchang- dong, Jongno-gu” Jin whispers.

In that moment Jin comes face to face with the inexorable truth, that no matter how much he fights, no matter how much he changes, no matter who he defends….he is just like them.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦.

𝐢 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐬. 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐩

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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