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juiceinpanties · 2 years ago

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10 Things You Hate About Eddie Munson, pt. 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson/afab!reader

Rating(s): Chapter: R; Fic: E

Tags: eventual smut, penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), fingering, subbie!Eddie, masturbation (m and f), fake dating, van sex, secret relationship, antagonistic relationship to friendship to lovers, casual sex, not-so-casual sex, phone sex, drunk reader

Summary: Your best friend, Nancy Wheeler, is absolutely dying to date Steve Harrington, but her parents have the weirdest rule: Nancy can't date until her friends (e.g., you) do. Nancy begs you to date someone, anyone, and eventually you agree. Meanwhile Steve offers to pay Eddie "the freak" Munson to ask you out. What could possibly go wrong??

Notes: This is, quite obviously, a 10 Things I Hate About You au, with a slight twist. Throw in some fake dating, a 90s setting, and here we are. Thanks to @tonybourdain for dragging me in and continuing to enable me. The van scene is partly her doing...

Please note the tags. This chapter is rated R and is sort of smut-adjacent. Actual smut will occur in future chapters, promise.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated and PLEASE reblog! Completely blank blogs that just like will be blocked because I'm gonna assume you're a bot. I've been here a long time.

In case you wanna read on Ao3 instead

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

You aren't looking forward to seeing Eddie because you have no idea what happened at the party Saturday night, except that Nancy said Eddie was the one who brought you home. You hope to anyone who's listening that you didn't make a complete fool of yourself, or (god forbid) make a pass at Eddie.

You find him Monday morning outside leaning against the building, one ankle crossed over the other. He's smoking, but he puts it out as you approach.

"Hey," he says when you get close enough. "Feeling better?"

"Than Saturday? Considering it's mostly a blank I'm gonna say...yes?"

He grins and tugs at a lock of his hair. "Yeah, you were pretty messed up." His expression turns serious. "Steve and I thought maybe the guy giving you the drinks might've slipped you something. Glad you came to find me while you were still sober enough."

You frown down at your boots, then up at him. "I woke up Sunday morning still dressed with a pounding headache and a bottle of Tylenol and glass of water on my nightstand. Was that you?"

"The headache, no. The rest, yeah. I figured you'd have one hell of a hangover."

"Hm," you say. You look away. Back. "Thanks," you finally manage. "That was nice. How'd you get me past my parents?"

"Practice," he says with an insouciant grin.

You roll your eyes, but then reach into your bag for something. "So, um. I...well. I made you this. As a kind of thank you, and because I guess it's what people do? When they're dating? Anyway, whatever, here." You push a tape at him, and he catches it before it can hit the ground.

He reads the track list and his expression goes through a series of changes, each one pissing you off more than the last. "Uh...that's—that's nice, but I can't accept this."

"Hm. Okay. It's not an engagement ring. Why the fuck not?"

"It's got—fuck. It's got Tiffany! And Wilson Phillips! And—and—Pearl Jam!"

"I can read, Grove. I made the fucking thing. Your point?"

"Fuuuck. I was hoping you wouldn't remember that."

"I said mostly a blank," you snap. You wish now you hadn't used the stupid nickname. Clearly he doesn't deserve a nickname. "So do you want the tape or not?"

"I can't—I mean—it was nice of you to—but I—”

"Forget it! I'd hate for you to strain yourself." You snatch the tape back from him and spin on your heel. "Clearly this was a stupid fucking idea. I'll tell Nancy to find someone else."

He watches you go in wide-eyed horror. "Wait!" he cries. "Hang on, wait, don't—awww, come on!" This last in response to you flipping him the bird over your shoulder as you disappear inside the building. "Fuck!" he growls. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! A girl gives you a tape, you take the fucking tape! It doesn't matter if it's Kenny G's greatest hits! Fuuuuuck!!"

The door opens and he peers that way hopefully, but instead of you he sees a very annoyed-looking Steve Harrington. "What the fuck did you do?!" he says. "I just talked to the girl I'm paying you to go out with, and she told me to go fuck myself and take you with me."

"Shiiiiit!" Eddie says. He presses both hands to his face and scrubs. What to do, what to do?! He drops his hands and squares his shoulders before casting Steve a steady, stoic look. "There's nothing else for it, my man. I've gotta sacrifice my dignity on the altar of impressing a girl."

Steve snorts. "Sacrifice your dignity!? Dude, have you seen your hair??"

Eddie ignores him. "Your friend Robin's in band, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"Gonna need her help." He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth as he paces, thinking. Nancy can get him a copy of your schedule. During band period would be best. He can cut class. His attendance has been decent this year, but it's just one class. And it's important.

It's a perfect plan. He'll win you back, plus some, and then maybe you two can discuss that big ol' crush you had on him that "went away." That's a topic worth exploring further—even if it means enduring mindless pop music and Eddie Vedder.

“You STILL aren’t speaking to him?!” Nancy says a few days later. You’re in the cafeteria having lunch and revisiting your tiff with Eddie.

“He was a jerk!” you say, stabbing your mashed potatoes with your spork.

“He was, but…”

“Nance!” You scowl down at your tray and push it away. “Okay, look. First I made an absolute fool of myself at the party. Got completely wasted and sloppy.”

“That wasn’t your fault!”

“Regardless, it happened. Then he was apparently so NICE, such a GENTLEMAN.” You roll your eyes. “So I made him that stupid tape and he acted like I handed him toxic waste! I spent the whole day on it!”

“Yes, he acted stupid, but—”

“Oh god speak of the annoying devil,” you say. It’s too late to hide: he’s seen you and is heading straight your way.

“Ladies!” he says as he drops down next to you. He gives Nancy a nod and you a smile. “Still craving cheese fries?” he says to you.

You frown. “I’m sorry?”

“Saturday night you were dying for cheese fries, but I thought it was better to take you home instead. Mostly because you passed out in my van.”

You look away, flushing. God how humiliating!

“But I thought if you were still in the mood, we could go today after school.”

Your eyes snap to his face and you scowl. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear on Monday.”

“Noooo, you did. I just thought you might’ve changed your mind.”

You lean in. “Nope!” you say, carefully popping the p.

“Okay then.” He waves, and a kid from his Hellfire Club runs up. With a guitar.

“What—?”

“You brought this on yourself,” he says and stands. He tosses the strap over his head and strums. The sound fills the cafeteria, and you see another kid by the wall manning an amp.

“Eddie, WHAT are you DOING?!” you hiss.

“This one’s for you, babe!” He launches into a song that you don’t recognize—until he starts singing. “Children behave! That’s what they say…when we’re together!”

“Oh. My. God!”

Nancy grabs you across the table. “Is that—?!”

“Oh my GOD!!” It’s a loud, kinda slowed-down, metal version of I Think We’re Alone Now. Most famously covered by mall princess Tiffany.

"Running just as fast as we can...holding on to one another's hand..." He's really getting into it, grinding on the guitar and singing to her like it's his own personal rock concert. The entire cafeteria is watching, shocked, but the Hellfire kids are into it.

About halfway through the band marches in and starts playing along. The high school marching band. You bury your face in your hands and want to sink into the floor, but when you peek through your fingers at him part of you admits it's kinda cute.

"I think we're alone now! The beating of our hearts is the only sooouuunnd!" As he repeats the chorus he advances closer, and at the last line he drops to his knees and slides across the floor to end up directly at your feet. He unplugs the guitar and stands to take a bow. Most people are yelling and clapping, but a few boos are mixed in. He seems to enjoy those just as much. He flashes a double bird and sticks his tongue out, Gene Simmons style.

"C'mon, princess," he says with a grin. "Let's go get cheese fries."

You have class, but...

With a laugh you grab the hand he's offering. "Yeah, okay. Because that was the stupidest, ballsiest thing I've ever seen."

He grins even bigger, the lines around his eyes and mouth creasing his face. "Stupid and ballsy, the Eddie Munson special."

"Come on," you say as you drag him from the caf and his adoring public. "We'll chat more about your stupid balls over fries."

You're both sitting in the back of the van, doors open, legs hanging over the edge. You're singing his version of the song and he's got his head buried in his jacket.

"Stopppp!!" he cries. "Please! You're so goddamn mean."

You break off, giggling, and throw his pack of cigarettes at him. "How the hell did you come up with such a ridiculous plan?"

"I don't know. It sounded good at the time! And, look, it worked. You cut class to come have fries with me."

"We don't have fries yet," you say, "and I could cut and run at any time."

"Noted. So you hated it?"

You grin and duck your head, then peek at him. "No, I didn't hate it. It was cute. Stupid, but cute. How'd you learn the song that fast?"

He shrugs. "It wasn't that hard. And, I dunno. I'm a fuck-up, but I'm not bad at music."

"Eddie," you say with a little frown. "Don't talk about yourself like that." You poke his arm. "You're not a fuck-up. You're just..."

"Weird?"

You smile and nudge him. "You," you say.

"Right. A squishy, not-scary Muppet monster."

"That's right," you say, your smile widening. "Grover."

"You know, it's kinda growin' on me. The nickname."

"Funny," you say softly. "I was thinking the same about you." You lean in and kiss him softly, easily. It's quick, and you might have gone in for another, but the carhop arrives with your fries.

"Damn," Eddie mutters. "Saved by the cheese."

You giggle and the two of you dig in.

"But," he says after a food-filled silence, "I gotta protest: I might be stupid, but my balls aren't."

"Ohhh. Smart balls, huh?"

"Yup. These babies solve quadratic equations!"

You cover your mouth as you laugh and take a sip of coke. "Maybe you should ask them for help in math."

"Hm. You know, it's funny you should say that." He licks cheese off his fingers and wipes them on his jeans. "You're in AP Chem, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Cool, that's cool. I'm in chem, too. Not AP, of course. Just regular. But, uh. I gotta pass. I HAVE to. I gotta get out of Hawkins High."

"Third senior year," you remark. "It's maybe time."

"You're tellin' me. Anyway, you think maybe I could get some help? Like, uh. Tutoring?"

You consider a moment around a mouthful of cheesy potato. "Yeah, I could do that. Tomorrow, maybe? Unless you're busy."

"No, nope, I'm free. Tomorrow'd be great. We can go to my place after school. My uncle works doubles on Thursdays, second and third."

"Ouch," you say with a wince.

"Yeah, it's killer." He sighs and drops his napkin into the empty fry tray. "So. I gotta try again."

"Try what again?" you say with a frown.

"The kiss. You didn't see my best stuff, princess." He gets up to toss the trash in a nearby can, then boosts himself back into the van.

"Sound awfully sure of yourself," you say, scooting closer. You tug a little at his jacket and slide your hand under it, against his chest.

"You're gonna like it as much as you loved that song. Swear."

You let out a soft laugh. "Didn't love the song, pretty boy. Sorry."

"You liked it," he says.

"Hmm," you say, doubtfully.

He gently cups your face and rubs his nose against your cheek. "You liked it," he murmurs.

"Eh," you say, still playing it cool even as your pulse kicks up and your cheeks flush.

"You liked it," he says, firmly, and turns his head to capture his mouth with yours.

It's slow and easy and lingering, and when he pulls away you’re both a little breathless.

"I liked it," you whisper.

He grins. "I know you did, princess." He kisses you again, a little harder, and you make a soft noise before your hands come up to bury themselves in his hair.

He sucks your lower lip and nibbles gently. You're so soft and sweet; he can't get enough of kissing you, and it's only been two kisses.

You can't believe a boy can have lips this juicy. They're soft and full and he tastes salty like fries and sweet like root beer.

His tongue slides into your mouth and you meet it with your own. Tug his hair a little to pull his head back so you can nip at his jaw. His throat.

"Baby," he rasps. "Baby girl!"

You whine, just a little, and you both fall back into the van and somehow your leg hooks over his hips and you're grinding against each other as the kisses get hotter and deeper. His hand slides down to rest on your hip and creeps up just under the edge of your shirt. He tickles your side and you giggle.

"Ticklish?" he murmurs. "Good to know."

"Use your powers for good, Munson," you breathe and kiss him again. You press closer and rock. His hips fit between your thighs and you can feel... "Oh." You grin a little. "Hello."

"Shit!" he says. "Shit, babe, I'm sorry!"

You laugh a little. "It's okay," you breathe. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" He's flushed red and sweating. "I'm really sorry."

"It's not like you can control it." You rock against him a little. "I don’t mind." You bite your lip. You want to see it. Touch it, even. But…

"Maybe—" You clear your throat. "Maybe you should take me home. I have a ton of homework."

"Yeah, sure, that's cool. That's good. I’m really—"

"Don't apologize again." You kiss him. "I promise I'm not mad or anything. Having a nice hard cock pressed against me is flattering, actually."

That seems to take some of the pressure off. "It's not stupid, either."

"Mmmm a penis that can do complex math. Be still my beating vagina."

He cracks up. "Wow," he says. "If I'd known it was that easy!"

"You calling me easy, Munson!?"

"...no..." He squirms a little. "Just, uh. Easily aroused?"

"Mmm." You lean in to bite his ear. "Says the boy with the raging hard-on."

"Come on, princess," he murmurs. His hand slides down over your ass. "You tellin' me you aren't wet right now?" He nuzzles your chin. "Throbbing a little, maybe?"

You don't want to admit it, but you've been at least fluttery since that first, quick kiss. Now your panties are soaked and you can feel your pounding heart in your cunt. You wish something else was pounding in that general vicinity.

"Maybe a little," you say. "A tiny bit."

He chuckles and squeezes your ass before he kisses you again. "Come on, baby doll. Lemme get you home. Or back to school?"

You lean away from him so you can grab his arm to check his watch. "Home," you say. "School's a wash for today."

"You got it." He kisses your nose, your forehead. "You're so pretty," he murmurs. "And soft. And smell amazing."

You brush your fingers over his kiss-swollen lips. "You're pretty. And soft...in some places. Fozzie Bear."

He grins. "Wacka wacka." He reluctantly pulls away and helps you up. "Shit," he mutters. "Head rush."

"Uh huh. Not much blood to the brain, huh?"

"Your fault, princess."

"Oops," you say, unrepentant.

He rolls his eyes and lifts you down from the van. "Brat."

"Muppet."

"Touché," he grumbles.

You're laughing as he helps you into the van's passenger seat. Maybe fake dating Eddie Munson won't be so bad after all. He's a good kisser and only pretends to be a jerk most of the time. You can work with that.

#eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #meg wrote this #stfic #emfic #10things

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leossmoonn · 3 years ago

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Unrequited Love || Part Three

masterlist | part two

pairing - 1980’s!stefan salvatore x fem, vamp!reader

type - angst, fluff, smut

note - cannot be read as a stand alone! click on my materlist to find the pervious parts :). 16+

summary - after 64 years apart, you and stefan meet again

warnings / includes - language, alcohol and food consumption, fighting, crying, cheating, steamy make out scenes + fingering and oral (f receiving). lots lots lots of dialogue in this one!

————

*gif isn’t mine*

the wait for friday was the longest wait you had ever experienced in your life. chase was also anticipating your leave as you told him you were traveling with marcy for the weekend. you knew it wasn’t totally foolproof as chase could talk to gabe anytime and gabe could spill the beans, but luckily marcy was already traveling to indiana for the weekend to help her grandkids, so you two would get back home at the same time. you just hoped chase didn’t get nosy and ruin your weekend.

“have fun, but not too much fun,” chase smiled. “no promises,” you chuckled.

“i’m serious,” chase said, gripping your arm roughly.

you looked up at him, glaring at him lightly. “yeah, i was just kidding,”

“good,” chase nodded. “call me when you get there.”

“i will,” you nodded. you grabbed your suitcase and backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. you walked out of the garage and to your car, opening the trunk and setting your things down.

“see you monday,” you said. “c’mere, give me a kiss and hug goodbye,” chase opened his arms to you.

“alright,” you smiled.

you wrapped your arms around him tentatively, feeling uncomfortable as he pulled you into him.

ever since you and stefan shared your kiss a few days ago, you had been slowly distancing yourself from chase. kissing and hugging him didn't feel the same, sleeping next to him didn’t feel the same, even looking at him didn’t feel the same. you still loved chase, but you were quickly falling out of love with him, and you knew he was noticing you change.

chase became more protective and controlling, and with good reason — the protective part. you were always thinking about stefan, smiling randomly and laughing at the memories you made in those 72 hours in the ‘20s. your mind was full of the kiss, both of them. you felt both the sadness and tenderness you felt then and now.

if you thought about the kiss hard enough, you could feel the way his lips moved against yours, how he held you, what he smelled like. it was tearing your relationship with chase apart, but it’s not like you were going to stay very long anyways.

chase had always been controlling and harsh from the start, but he was charming and could be kind when he wanted to as well. the constant fights were what made you grow farther and farther away from him, even before stefan. maybe stefan could be the courage and strength, and reason, you needed for leaving chase.

“have a safe drive,” chase said as you pulled away.

“i will,” you gave him a small smile. you pecked his lips, wishing they were stefan’s. you slipped out of his grasp as quickly as you could. you got into your car and drove away, meeting stefan at his hotel.

“get out, i’m driving,” he said as he approached you.

“alright,” you nodded. you went into the passenger seat, buckling up and waiting for stefan to join you. as soon as he got into the car he noticed your sadness and irritation.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, putting his hand on your leg.

“nothing. i just couldn’t wait to get out of there,” you exhaled.

“did chase do something to you?”

“he just… he is being more controlling than usual. he knows something is up.”

“does he know who i am?”

“no. i don’t talk about past relationships with current ones.”

“what if they ask.”

you shrugged, “i just say i’m not a virgin and move on.”

stedan chuckled, “solid answer. what else do you tell them? what age do you use?”

“i tell them i’m 22, which is what i was turned at. i say my birthday is august ninth, 1964.”

“seems like you got it all figured out.”

“yeah, for the most part,” you nodded.

“how often do you move?” he asked.

“every 5-7 years.”

“and your relationships?”

“they last a couple years if i’m with a human. i dated a vampire a long time ago, he was actually the first one i dated after you. we lasted almost a decade.”

“what happened?”

“we just wanted different things. he wanted to adopt a kid, i wanted to stay childless. i wanted to move states, he wanted to stay near family.”

“wow. it’s almost like a real human relationship.”

you chuckled, “it was the best i’ve ever been in, honestly. it ended amicably, too.”

“what was his name?”

“ryan,” you answered. “do you still talk to him?” he asked.

“no. he, uh, died ten years ago.”

“i’m sorry to hear that.”

you looked at stefan, a hard, apologetic look was on his face was he stared at the road. you smiled a little, placing your hand on his and intertwining your fingers.

“it’s alright. we used to be friends, too. i hope he’s found peace.”

“he has,” stefan nodded. “well, what about you? any lucky ladies?” you smirked.

stefan laughed, “not really. it’s just been lexi and i.”

“what about klaus?” you asked.

“who?” stefan questioned.

you furrowed your brows. was he playing a game again?

“klaus, the vampire who helped you train me. actually, he’s a hyprid.”

“klaus mikaelson?”

“yeah, him,” you nodded. “i…i don’t remember. i think i do, but, it’s all fuzzy,” stefan frowned.

“no, it’s alright,” you said. maybe klaus had erased him memory? it seemed like a very klaus-thing to do. or maybe stefan had blocked out the horrible memories of his ripper days. either way, it was obvious stefan didn’t want to reminisce hurting you.

“how is lexi?” you asked. “she’s great. she wants to meet you someday,” he answered.

“she knows who i am?” you were shocked. you knew who she was from stories stefan told you, but you didn’t think that he would ever tell her about you.

“yeah, she was the one who helped me find you, actually.”

“wow,” you couldn’t help but grin. “i’ll have to thank her.”

“she’s a miracle worker,” he nodded.

you set your eyes back onto the road, your smile staying for a while.

“you look so beautiful,” stefan spoke.

you turned to him, your smile getting wider. “where did that come from?”

“i just wanted to to tell you,” he shrugged with a grin. “you’ve always been beautiful.”

“you thought that 60 years ago?” you asked. “of course. you know, all the teasing wasn’t totally to play with you,” he said.

you giggled, “good to know.”

“i just wish i could’ve felt a little more, otherwise we could’ve been together for the last 64 years.”

“i’m kind of happy with how it turned out,” you said.

“really? why?” he asked. “maybe we wouldn’t have worked then,” you explained.

“who says we’ll work now?” he asked with a grin.

you rolled your eyes, hitting his arm. “whatever. anyways, where are we going?”

“the airport,” he answered.

“what? i don’t have my passport. we don’t have tickets.”

“we’re vampires, babe. we don’t need that stuff,” he snorted.

“where are you taking me?”

“chicago,” he answered. “ch-chicago?” you stammered.

“yeah, i wanted to have our very first date at the speakeasy i saw you in.”

“oh,” you gasped, your body relaxing and your eyes softening. “oh, that’s so romantic.”

“i’m quite the romantic, you know.”

“oh, really?”

“yeah! i just haven’t had time to show you, is all.”

“i can’t wait to see,” you grinned.

you two drove for an hour to the airport. stefan and you compelled your way onto the plane, finding first class seats. stefan ordered some champagne for the both of you as you two got situated.

you sat against your seat arm, putting your legs across stefan’s lap.

“comfortable enough?” he teased. “very. you make a great footrest,” you grinned

“glad i could be of service,” he smiled.

the flight attendant bought back your champagne, handing them to stefan.

“thank you,” he smiled at her. “you’re welcome. anything else i can get you?” she asked.

she bite her bottom lip, batting her eyelashes as she smiled at stefan. you scoffed in disgust. you didn’t want to insult her confidence and courage, but stefan was very clearly with someone, you.

“i think my girlfriend would like a sandwich. right, sweetheart?” he looked to you.

you grinned, a little shocked that he would reject the flight attendant like this. you played along, sitting up and cuddling into his side. you intertwined your hand with his, looking up at the attendant who was red with embarrassment.

“i would like a sandwich. thank you, honey,” you confirmed.

“right away,” she nodded, scurrying away.

you looked at her retreating figure in satisfaction.

“why did you look so shocked?” stefan asked. you set your eyes on him, shrugging. “it’s just weird that you played that card, i guess.”

“well, you’ll be my girlfriend soon. might as well get familiar with the title,” he smiled.

“yeah, you keep dreaming,” you grinned. “do they even have sandwiches on 3-hour flights?”

“i’m sure she can find one,” he shrugged. you chuckled, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

“how so? i have my humanity on now.”

“yes, but you’re still very sarcastic and a little… broody. you still don't give up and don’t stop until you get your way.”

“you’re making me sound like damon,” he grimaced. “well, maybe you two aren’t as different as you think. you two are brothers,” you stated.

“yeah, but he’s supposed to be the one who is pushy and pessimistic,” he said.

“i never said you’re pushy or pessimistic. you’re just determined and focused. not to mention very handsome,” you smirked.

“you think i’m handsome?” he hummed. “oh, i know,” you winked.

“good to know i haven’t lost my swagger.”

“if you say that word again then you will,” you snorted. “well, you definitely haven’t changed, either. little-miss-attitude,” he remarked.

“that’s what makes me attractive,” you giggled. “true, and you’re incredibly good looks, beautiful voice, stunning smile, pretty eyes, warmth and kindness,”he listed off.

“if complimenting each other was a contest i think you'd win.”

“good. i like winning,” stefan said.

“i know,” you sighed contently.

you two spent the rest of the flight talking. you eventually had fallen asleep on stefan’s lap when you had about an hour of flying left. you were curled up against his stomach, his t-shirt bunched up in your hands. he had slung his coat over your arms after seeing you shiver. he spent the rest of the time planning your weekend in chicago.

later that night he was going to take you to the speakeasy to have dinner. then he would take you back to your hotel and would spend the rest of the night however you liked. saturday you two would go on a hike and have lunch, then he planned on making you dinner. sunday was when he was taking you back home, but before you two would get on a plane, he was going to make you breakfast in bed. he hoped nothing got in the way of this weekend, namely your boyfriend. this was his chance to show you that he was the right man for you, and that he was sorry for his past actions. hopefully after this weekend, or even during it, you would choose to break things off with chase.

“y/n, we’re getting off the plane. you need to get up, sweetheart,” stefan whispered in your ear.

“mmm,” you hummed, swatting his face away. “five more minutes.

“you can sleep on the way to the hotel. c’mon, sweetheart,” he nudged you gently.

you sighed, sitting up slowly and yawning. you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, looking out the airplane window, jaw dropping in amazement.

“it’s just like how i remembered. just more clean,” you said.

“it’s even more amazing outside,” stefan smiled.

you nodded, standing up and walking out of the plane. you two got your luggage, walking outside of the airport only for you to start crying.

“hey, what’s wrong?” stefan asked.

“i just… haven’t been here in fifty years,” you exhaled. “shocking isn’t it?” stefan looked at the city with you.

you nodded, “i can’t wait to stay here for the weekend.”

“good, i’m glad you’re excited. let’s go check in to our hotel, shall we?” he suggested.

“yes,” you agreed.

you two grabbed a taxi and stefan gave the driver the hotel location. the whole ride there you looked out of the window, admiring the buildings and familiar streets you used to run across with your friends when you were a child. it almost seemed like a fever dream, living in chicago.

you had only gone back once for a day to search for stefan, and you never went back. you thought that all the bad memories would be too painful for you to endure, but really, the only memories that came to your mind now were happy. they made you a little nostalgic, but you found yourself smiling the whole car ride.

“hi, a room for two under the name stefan salvatore,” stefan told the front desk.

you looked around the hotel as stefan checked you two in. this hotel was a lot more suave than hotels you had been to in the past. it had a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a fire place and lots of furniture in the main room. you could only imagine what the rooms looked like.

“ready to go?” stefan walked next to you. “yep,” you said, following him up to and up the stairs.

you two used your enhanced speed to get onto the tenth floor. he unlocked your room door, allowing you to go in first.

“i hope you like it. it has a kitchen, two beds in case you didn’t want to sleep next to me, a television, and a jacuzzi,” he said.

“wow,” you gasped. you turned to him. “you didn’t have to do all this, you know.”

“i did.” he set your luggage down in the makeshift kitchen. “i have so much to make up for.”

“you’ve done enough,” you smiled, appreciating his intentions. “hold those words until after this trip. hopefully you’ll still think the same,” he said.

“oh, i’m sure i will.” you looked into the bathroom, surprised at how big it was.

“maybe we’ll put that to good use.” stefan came up behind you, gesturing to the jacuzzi.

you turned around to face him, smirking. “don’t count on it.”

stefan chuckled, “ready for dinner?”

“yes. that sandwich didn’t do anything,” you said, putting your hand on your hungry stomach.

“we can walk to the speakeasy. it’s a couple of blocks away,” he said.

you nodded, grabbing your purse and making your way towards the door. before you stepped out, you remembered you had to call chase.

“hey, can you wait for a minute? i promised chase i would call him.” you gave him an apologetic look, but stefan smiled and nodded understandingly. “of course. take your time.”

“thank you,” you sighed in relief, kissing his cheek before going over to the phone.

you dialed your house phone, chase picking up right on the first ring.

“hey, i got here safe,” you smiled.

stefan watched as you talked to him. you were telling the truth the night he came to your house, you did love chase. he obviously made you somewhat happy as you kept laughing and smiling while talking to him. stefan just hoped he made you a little bit more happy than chase, and that you loved him just a little bit more.

“alright, i gotta go. we have dinner reservations. i’ll talk to tomorrow. i love you, too, bye.” you hung up the phone, standing up and walking back to stefan.

stefan painted on a kind smilie even though hearing you say ‘i love you’ to another man pierced his heart harder than he was sure any stake would.

“sorry about that,” you laughed awkwardly. “no worries, i understand. ladies first,” he held his arm out to the hallway.

“what a gentleman,” you giggled, stepping out and making your way to the stairs.

you two walked go the club, stefan immediately getting you two a table. it was the same table you were sitting at with you and your friends.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were trying to traumatize me,” you chuckled once you got seated.

“do you not like this plan? we can go somewhere else,” stefan suggested, worry written all over his face.

you furrowed your brows, placing your hand on top of his. “no, i love this. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said that.”

“it’s okay. i just… have a lot of shame surrounding what i did. believe it or not.”

“i believe you. i appreciate you making all these plans for us. it shows a lot,” you gave him a warm smile.

“you’re welcome. you deserve the best,” he said.

“so do you,” you stated. “eh,” he shrugged.

“i’m serious! this is the most anyone has ever done for me.”

“what about ryan?” he raised his brow.

“he had his moments,” you nodded. “i can’t compare you two, though. you two were very different people, and i dated you two decades apart. it would be unfair to compare.”

“that’s fair,” he nodded. “well, i hope that i at least do more than chase.”

you chuckled, “you do.”

“good,” he grinned. “not that this is a competition, but if it was…”

“you’d be winning, and you love winning. i know,” you smirked.

“not the only thing i love.” he looked into your eyes, a smile creeping up his lips.

you looked down bashfully, averting your attention to the menu in front of you.

“they have the same foods from the ‘20s,” you commented.

“yeah, just more healthy and clean,” stefan said.

“i think my vampire digestive system can handle “dirty” food,” you chortled. “do vampires still come here a lot?”

“eh,” he shrugged. “most of them have relocated to california or new york.”

“i see,” you hummed. “like us.”

“exactly,” he nodded. “so, what are you thinking of getting?”

“not sure. maybe pasta,” you skimmed the menu.

“well, order whatever you want. my treat.”

“do you have money?” you asked. “yep,” he nodded.

“do you have a job?” you asked. “i’ve had jobs here and there. most of the money has come from my father, though,” he explained.

“ah, i see,” you nodded. “what about you?” he asked.

“like you, i’ve had a few jobs here and there. i, uh, actually went to college 30 years ago,” you smiled.

“really? that’s amazing! what did you study?”

“social work,” you answered. “i know, kind of… weird, but i loved it. i spent ten years helping families in florida.”

“it’s not weird. i’m happy to hear you were able to study. i know you talked about it a lot, but you talked about nursing. what changed?”

“it just felt too basic, i guess. i wanted to help people non-medically. if i were a doctor, i would just give my patient my blood and they would be discharged within the day. i wanted the work i did to matter. i was able to save lots of children in orphanages, abusive homes, and change and provide broken families a new, fresh start.”

stefan smiled as he listened to you. his chest filled with pride and joy as you spoke about your work. he loved the way your eyes lit up, the wide smile that took over your features as you told him a few cases you had dealt with. he was happy to see you happy.

he would never admit this, but he was relieved you had moved on from him and with your life. although he wasn’t too pleased to hear about your lovers, he knew it was a normal part of life. he had other relationships, too, so he couldn’t single you out. he was proud of you for achieving your dreams and finding something you were passionate about.

“i do like being a vampire, though. i loved my enhanced abilities, getting to live through every decade. i just like being able go fit in, too. i made lots of friends that have now since died, or we have grown apart. i hope i never forget any of the amazing memories i made there.”

“i understand that,” stefan nodded. “i had a job in atlana for a while. for eleven years i spent my time “human”. it was refreshing, honestly. i was able to make friends as well, and while denying myself the privilege of compelling people, it was the best eleven years of my life. i never realized how hard humans had it before then, either,” he chuckled.

“oh, i know. if you sprained an ankle, you had to be on bed rest for a few days. if you got pregnant, then there goes your whole life. and if you’re angry at someone you can’t compel them to stop being annoying,” you laughed.

“being a vampire is a blessing and a curse,” he said.

“i’ll drink to that.” you held up your glass, clinking it against his. you took a sip of the red wine, setting your glass down.

“what job did you have?” you asked.

“history professor in a college,” he answered.

your raised your brows. now that was a surprise. “i didn’t know you were interested in history or teaching.”

“i love history, and i happen to be a master at it since i’ve lived through it,” he smiled.

“did you re-write the textbooks?” you smirked. “i wish,” he laughed.

“which college did you teach at?”

“harvard.”

“you must be very smart.”

“i don’t like to brag,” he shrugged with a smile.

you giggled, “i could never be a teacher. i hate teaching and talking about the same things over and over again. i need change.”

“is that why you move a lot?”

“well, that and if people notice i’m not aging, they’ll get suspicious. you know that, though.”

“i do,” he hummed.

“where was the longest place you stayed?” you asked.

“north carolina for 15 years.”

“how did you get away with that?”

“i bought a ranch house and lived alone for five years. i then started going out more and meeting people.”

“did you get lonely?”

“no, considering i had my humanity off.”

“really? you don’t feel loneliness or sadness with your humanity off?”

“i don’t. i mean, i can get sad and think about sad things, but i don’t really feel it.”

“must be nice.”

“it’s not. i’d much rather feel than not.”

“why?”

“because then i am able to be with you.”

your jaw dropped softly, turning into a smile. “there you go again with making the butterflies in my chest flutter.”

“i make you have fluttering butterflies?” he hummed.

“of course you do,” you rolled your eyes. “who knew.”

stefan laughed, “you have that effect on me, too, you know.”

“i do?” you brows raised, totally shocked. “from the day we met,” he confirmed.

“ha - liar.”

“it’s true! you were beautiful and witty and caring. that attracted me to you even when i had my humanity off.”

“at least you weren’t totally heartless,” you smirked.

“i’ve always had sensitivity. i got it from my mother.”

“is she a vampire, too?” you asked. “uh, no. she died when i was a kid,” stefan frowned, looking at his glass of wine.

“i’m so sorry. i-i had no.. idea.” you lowered your eyes to your own wine glass.

“it’s alright. you didn’t know. i never talked about my family,” stefan shrugged, giving you a forgiving smile.

“yeah, that’s right. only about damon,” you said. “yeah, i have a hard enough time talking about him,” he snorted.

“i have a hard time talking about marcy, too,” you nodded.

“really? you two are best friends.”

“not since you came to town.”

stefan frowned, “i’m sorry.” “it’s alright, she’s just looking out for me. she thinks i’m going to get my heart broken again. and maybe she’s right, but i’m an adult. if i get my heart broken then that’s my fault and i’ll learn my lesson,” you shrugged.

“i don’t want to be the person that comes between your sister. you two are blood, i’m just this guy kinda ruined your life that you happened to fall in love with.”

you smiled, “you’re very nonchalant.”

he shrugged, “that’s my middle name.”

your waiter came to your table, taking your order. you and stefan talked about your plans for the weekend. you two went home with full stomachs, deciding to de-stress in the jacuzzi.

“i’m surprised you brought your swimsuit. i didn’t tell you to pack it,” stefan said as he stepped inside the tub.

“well, it’s summer so i thought there would be a chance we would go swimming or something,” you shrugged.

“we can go swimming tomorrow after our hike, if you’d like,” stefan suggested.

“i would like that,” you smiled.

“i’ll add it to the agenda,” he said. he slipped into the bubbling water across from you. “would you like some champagne?” he asked.

“no, i’m all alcoholed-out,” you chuckled. “well, i hope you don’t mind me drinking some bourbon,” he said.

“not at all,” you shook your head.

you laid your head back in the jacuzzi, closing your eyes and sighing into the water. the jet massaged your lower back muscles, allowing you to relax even more.

“you look so pretty,” stefan spoke.

you smiled, keeping your eyes closed. “thank you.”

“you’re very welcome. i like your suit. the color looks nice on you.”

“well, thank you,” you said. you slid over to him. you sat up on your knees, putting your hands on his chest and letting his roam up upper body. “you don’t look too bad yourself, you know,”

“i have been told that before, thank you,” he smiled.

“have you always been this built?” you asked. “only when i became a vampire,” he said.

“oh, so muscles come with vampirism?”

“no, i just started working out,” he laughed. “well, it definitely payed off,” you hummed, admiring his chiseled chest and prominent abs.

“glad you thinks so,” he gave you a toothy smile.

you looked into his eyes, giving him a mischievous smile. he quirked his right brow, tilting his head.

“what are you thinking?” he asked.

“nothin’,” you said. “you’re so pretty,” you hummed as you got lost in his eyes.

he blushed, looking down shyly in response. “thank you.”

“you're welcome.” you bit your lip, looking at him with wide eyes through your lashes.

you leaned close to his face, moving your lower body so you were now straddling his waist. stefan set his bourbon down, placing his hands on your waist, pulling you as close as the hot tub would let you be.

“i’ve waited for this day for so long,” stefan mumbled, looking into your eyes.

“you’ve been waiting to be in a hot tub with me for decades?” you smirked.

stefan laughed, “you know what i meant.”

“i know. me, too,” you nodded.

you brought your hands up, water trickling down your arm and onto his collar bones. you ran your fingers through his soft hair and making it damp.

you two enjoyed admiring each other in the silence. you’d never had a more intimate moment than this one. not even sex came close. this was the best way, in your mind, to spend time with your romantic partner. in the warm water, holding each other, getting lost in each other’s eyes — it was perfect.

“i really like this bathing suit,” stefan broke the silence.

“thank you. it’s actually new. this is the first time i’ve worn it.” you looked down at the suit. it was a navy blue suit with white straps and a white stripe around your waist, white lining the seams of the suit. you had actually bought it in preparation of going to florida with chase, but you thought this would be a better use.

“oh, you bought it for me?” he grinned. “you’re not that special,” you giggled.

he shrugged, “as long as i’m the first one to see you in it.”

“you might be the only one, too,” you winked.

“oh?” he raised a brow. “i wonder if i’ll be the only one to see it on the floor, too.”

he lifted his head up to your neck, placing soft kisses and nibbles on your skin. you closed your eyes, reeling your head to the side to give him more access. your hands went to the back of his head, gripping his hair at the nape of his neck. he kissed a hot, wet trail up to your lips, his hand taking the back of your head and pulling your lips onto his.

a thrill ran up your spine as you two kissed. your pushed your chest up to his, your hips beginning to move on top of his. breathy moans left your lips as your clit rubbed against his boner. stefan’s hands dug into your back, where the swim suit opened, surely making half-moons.

you were about to slip your swimsuit straps off when the phone rang. you pulled away immediately, causing water to flood over the tub ledge. you got one foot out of the tub before stefan grabbed your arm.

“let it ring. whoever it is, they’ll leave you a message,” stefan urged you to come back.

you shook your head. “it might be marcy.”

“and it might be not. come back, please? we don’t have to do anything but just sit here and talk,” he begged.

you sighed, taking your other foot out and sitting on the ledge.

“i’ll be back.” you leaned over and planed a kiss on his forehead. you pulled away, getting up and wrapping yourself in a towel as you hurried to the phone. you picked it up, hoping it was marcy, but it wasn’t.

“finally, you answered. i was getting worried.”

“oh. hi, chase,” you sighed.

“what’s wrong? you sound disappointed,” he asked.

“nothing, i am just so tired,” you gave him a fake laugh.

“what did you do today?” chase asked.

“oh, lots of things.”

“like what?”

“drove around, went to indianapolis, had dinner” you answered.

“how was downtown?”

“fun.” you smiled as you thought about the plane ride.

“what did you guys do?” chase asked. “um… lots of stuff,” you replied.

“like what?”

“fun stuff.”

“why are you being so vague?”

“i-i’m not,” you frowned. “yes, you are. is there something you’re hiding. wh-why are you lying to me?” he asked.

“i’m not! you’re just making things up!” you lied. you began to bite your nails. you didn’t like that you were lying to him, although you had been for the past week and really, for the past three months. but you knew that when he would find out the truth, and he would, he would be in so much more pain than he was now.

“stop lying to me! you’ve been lying to me for the past week. what have you been doing behind my back? s-seeing another guy? wha-what is it?”

it broke your dead, cold heart to hear him cry.

“no, i-it’s not like that,” you shook your head, your voice getting more quiet with each word.

“then what is it? you’re killing me here, baby.”

“i’m… i’ve been trying to get into medical school.” you bit your lip nervously.

he was silent for a few moments. you were about to throw up.

“oh, well, why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve helped.”

“i just um…” you let out a breathy laugh. “was embarrassed.”

“oh, baby. you don’t need to be embarrassed about anything. i know how much you love helping people and how smart you are. i-is it a money thing? you know my dad has —”

“no! no, no, no, it is not a money thing, trust me,” you sighed. “i just felt silly, is all. i mean, i’m at my prime child-bearing age and i know you want kids someday, so i don’t want to throw that dream away just because of my career.” you cringed as you spoke. you couldn’t believe what you were saying, it was a load of bogus, but it was what you knew that chase would accept.

“we can have kids whenever! i don’t care. you do whatever you want, babe.”

“thanks,” you smiled genuinely.

stefan came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. you turned your head, eyes widening and jaw dropping as you noticed he didn’t have his swim trunks on anymore. the towel hung low, low enough to where you can see his defined v-line going all the way down.

“y/n? are you there?”

“o-oh, yeah,” you nodded, not taking your eyes off of stefan.

stefan smirked at you, leaning against the wall and flexing.

“um, i gotta go. marcy wants to walk around the city to see the lights,” you said quickly. you didn’t even know what you said. you hoped it made sense.

“alright. have fun and stay safe. when you get back we can talk about medical school and i can help you.”

you took your eyes off of stefan for a second, looking to the ground and smiling at chase’s words. he could be so sweet when he wanted.

“thank you. it means a lot.”

“of course. i love you.”

“i-i love you, too,” you whispered, hanging up the phone.

“you want to go to medical school?” stefan asked.

“i did before. i wouldn’t be opposed to it now,” you shrugged.

“i’d like to see you in the office with a white doctor’s coat, sitting at your desk with your name on a plaque,” he stated.

“i have a few plaques already, actually,” you said.

“oh? well, can i see them?” he asked. “sometime,” you nodded.

“what do you want to do now?” stefan asked, walking over to you.

your eyes fell from his eyes to his chest, down to his hips where he left nothing to the imagination.

“my eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

your eyes lit up as they met his. heat flushed your face and you smiled shyly, feeling a little embarrassed.

“sorry. you just look so… good,” you sighed happily.

“you think so?” he hummed. “mmhm,” you nodded.

“you do, too,” he smiled, looking you up and down painfully slowly.

you shook your head with a laugh, butterflies fluttering around your stomach. “no, i look like a drowned rat.”

“then put some clothes on and dry off,” he shrugged. “or take them off and i can help you get dry.”

you breath hitched as you eyed him, a little surprised at his suggestive-ness. boy, you had missed out on a lot in the past 64 years.

you stood up, walking over to him. you put your hands on his chest, looking him in the eyes, trying to match his energy.

“wanna undress me, then?” you hummed.

“oh, i’d be happy to,” he grinned.

his hand went up to your shoulders, pulling down the right strap of your bathing suit slowly. you waited in anticipation, your legs moving back and forth as you watched his hand drag your strap down your arm.

he was so warm, it gave you goosebumps. his hands were so big, his fingers long and meaty and so gentle as they ran across your skin. just looking at them made the heat grow between your thighs, but them on you almost made you go crazy.

“have i told you how much i like this bathing suit?” he asked.

“a couple times,” you nodded.

“well, hope you don’t mind me saying it again. you look gorgeous with it. i love the blue against your complexion, how the white outlines your curves nicely,” he complimented.

you smiled, “you’re too kind.”

“nu-uh, i’m just tellin’ the truth,” he shook his head.

you parted your legs slightly to let the swimsuit drop to the floor. you suddenly felt shy and colder. you put your hands on your stomach and waist, not looking at him in the eyes, only looking at the swimsuit pooled at your legs.

stefan brought his hand up to your chin, lifting your head up slowly. your eyes met his, noticing the lust and love that clouded his eyes.

“you’re beautiful. no need to cover up unless you absolutely don’t want to do anything,” he said.

“i do i just… don’t look as good as i usually do,” you sighed.

“darling, trust me, you look amazing. there is no such thing as “not looking good as usual” because no matter what you wear, makeup or no makeup, if you’re tired or super awake and bouncing around the walls, you will look gorgeous always.”

“oh, you’re such a charmer,” you rolled your eyes with a smile.

“i’m telling the truth,” he repeated.

you put your arms to your sides, moving closer to stefan so your chest met his.

“so beautiful,” he muttered, his eyes gazing at your breasts.

you giggled, “you’re so handsome.”

your eyes ran over his chiseled chest and strong shoulders. you noticed the tattoo he had on his arm, putting your fingers on it and tracing the pattern.

“when did you get this?” you asked.

“about fifteen years ago,” he answered, glancing over to the tattoo. “it was a skull at first, but then i realized how dumb that looked, so i had them re-trace over it.”

“it’s pretty,” you hummed. “you think?” he asked.

“i do,” you nodded, looking at him again.

both of your hands ran up his shoulders and to the back of his head. you buried your fingers in his damp, cold hair, bringing him impossibly closer to you. his towel came loose and dropped to the floor. you could feel him on your hip. you gave him a cheeky smile as he gave you a bashful smile.

“have a bed preference?” you asked.

“this one will do.” he grabbed your waist and threw you onto the bed, climbing on top of your and crashing his lips onto yours.

you moved up on the bed, laying against the pillows without breaking the kiss. stefan’s lips trailed down to your neck, sucking and nipping roughly. you let out a breathy moan, calling his name out and making him bite you harder. he trailed love bites down to your breasts, attaching his mouth to your swollen nipple. you bucked your hips up to meet his, your hands pulling at his hair and finger nails digging into his neck.

“stefan, oh,” you whimpered as his teeth tugged at the bud.

one of his hands went in-between you two, his fingers tip-toeing down to your pussy. you gasped as he spread your legs open and found your clit, circling the pearl with the tip of his finger.

“fuck, stefan,” you panted. “feel good?” he lifted his head up.

you nodded furiously, tilting your head back and pushing it into the pillows. he scooted down, running his tongue down your stomach, making you giggle.

“that tickles, stef!”

“oops,” he chuckled, replacing his fingers with his tongue.

you grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking your hand as his tongue circled your clit and applied pressure. his fingers slowly slipped into your pussy. he couldn’t help but moan at the warmth and wetness. you spread your legs wider for him, anxious for him to start moving his fingers.

“eager, are we?” stefan hummed against your skin.

“please,” you breathed out. “i’ve been waiting for this for 60 years.”

“long time to be waiting.”

“y’know, sometimes i think about you when i’m kissing chase,” you said absentmindedly.

“oh, yeah? you ever say my name?” he asked. “almost,” you moaned, moving your head from side to side.

you could feel his smirk on your skin. he pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your pussy. he curled his fingers inside of you, moving back and forth and hitting your g-spot effortlessly.

“oh, stefan, stefan!” you called out, moving your hips in rhythm with his fingers.

he lifted his head up, adoring the way your eyes were rolling back, mouth open with whines and moans coming out, back arching. you looked perfect.

“good thing we have all night for you to say my name.”

————

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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years ago

Text

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck.

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further.

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now."

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent.

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong.

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special.

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut.

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he?

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear.

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love.

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't.

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go!

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around.

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss.

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on.

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?"

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't.

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them.

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work?

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate.

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless.

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate.

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

"Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't.

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself.

Welcome home.

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san-station · 5 years ago

Text

A Quiet Place AU / ATEEZ (Post-apocalyptic)

Chapter 6

↝Word count: 3.6k

Description: In a world full of silence and dangerous creatures seeking for blood, a group of friends have to survive for their own good and find the safe place they've heard about months ago.

Pairing: San x OC

WARNING: mention of death, depression, cursing.

・・・・・・・・

With every storm, there’s a rainbow somewhere.

It’s pretty odd to say that after Misuk’s death, the #439 day began as a peaceful day. That Monday Mingi, Wooyoung and Yeosang walked around the periphery recollecting some vegetables that were on our garden behind the old building, I joined a couple hours later just grabbed some fruits and keep an eye on the boys. We talked about how vegetables tasted better than ever and Mingi tried to figure out if the reason was some kind of radioactive answer. Wooyoung tried to hold his sharp laugh eating tons of strawberries, they tained his teeth red for six hours. We also found two raccoon bodies smashed in the middle of the tomatoes, so we figured we had to be more careful outside the building to prepare the runaway. Meanwhile, Yeosang and I recollected some carrots and oranges, the tension between us was visible, we made eye contact three times and the three times I almost growled at him, still mad about last night. I was trying to distract myself from the events of the day before with them, but the thoughts were only intensify by the animal blood near the garden.

At night, we had dinner indoors, most of the guys were chatting about the few days we had in there, remaking a new plan for us to start heading to our supposed new home, Wonderland. However, Seonghwa seemed too caught up on his own world that he didn’t even touch his fish or veggies; and if stares could burn you, Seonghwa caught me staring at him. The worrying look on my face made him give me a smile to put an ease to my thoughts, he started to eat after I gulped a glass of water and gesture him swallow everything on his plate. I knew he was as affected as I was, maybe even more. Hongjoong had told us he felt guilty for not being able to protect Misuk when he was the strongest between the three of us, it made no sense if he also would’ve been killed.

Things turned a little tense when Wooyoung mentioned our discovery on the tomatoes garden.

"You're not allowed to go outside again this week", Hongjoong had said to me when I washed the dishes. He thought that my scent could have probably attracted the creatures near our house. I agreed bluntly as Mingi hugged my back and reassure that everything would be okay.

On Tuesday, Yunho, Wooyoung and Jongho prepared an incredible meal with the supplies we brought, the amused moment was when they realized they couldn't cook without Seonghwa, who was out fixing a fissure in the water pipe, it was caused by that time when Wooyoung went to bathroom. Yeah, he was right, that shit was pretty messy. Literally. I really wanted to go with him but he agreed to go by himself because “he was okay alone”. Saying I was hurt was an understatement… By the end of the day, I took care of gathering some supplies for our road trip, organized our food, water, clothes, pills and guns. We were obligated to dominate the art of shooting and targeting stuffs, luckily, we used them once in the forest yet we didn’t like to use them due to obvious reasons: noise.

Anyway, as for San and Hongjoong, they never got out of the oldest bedroom till it was night time. San was carrying a notebook and some papers down his armpits while he grabbed a cup of the black coffee I made for Hongjoong and gave me a flash smile. Sometimes, San and I smiled at each other from time to time when our eyes met for too long, but he still was an idiot with big ego trying to make me mad at everything he did. I wasn’t sure of that new attitude of his, but it was better than his stearn and cold eyes.

On Wednesday, we all played Monopoly and remained in the basement for safety, if raccoons died the day before, we had to be aware of anything. So, we ended up hating Hongjoong and his fucking cute laugh as he robbed all of our money when we stepped in all his properties, Mingi kept fake-crying for an entire hour as Hongjoong took his little red houses from the spots he bought and he placed his purple buildings instead. Yeosang, Mr. Corrupt Bank, smiled devilish as he handed Hongjoong the last few dollars of the game. That little bastard knew how to play or he was a mastermind on cheating. San almost punched him and almost threw the game board as he perished in the jail longer than anyone else. We laughed till our bellies hurt, until our eyes cried, until our cheeks felt hot and our backs collided on the basement floor. The tension around us for the last three days faded away in that exact minute, we were just a group of young adults fooling around with our friends and classmates before Kihwang would come from his Art History class and would yell at us to start running over the place. But he never came, and we never ran, and all that we once knew as a normal life became a living hell as we played seek and hide with some freaking aliens. What a plot twist, bro.

On Thursday, I made a peace alliance with Yeosang, not because either of us wanted to, we had to clean the basement with Seonghwa while the others were risking their lives outside looking for some fishy delight; before they left, Hongjoong made us pretty clear that we had to “put our shit together or else…”, we didn’t want to know the or else..., so we established that we had to figure how to stop looking for each other's throats and befriend one more time. Seonghwa was the mediator, so everything went just fine after some cursing, death wishes, some tears and a hug.

The guys came back three hours later, the river was near the abandoned city so the walk would be tedious. By the time they opened the basement door, Yeosang and Seonghwa were having a big discussion about a puppet show they started to put a smile on our faces. After cleaning, I was worrying sick about everyone not coming home, so Yeosang thought it might be a good distraction. The show included my fluffy cat, Yeosang’s stuffed turtle, Seonghwa's big red Angry Bird character and San’s puppy, Shiber.

“She has to marry Private Ryan”, Seonghwa grabbed his fluffy bird and placed my cat next to it. Yeosang frowned, grabbed the cat and placed it next to his turtle.

“Ehm, no, she has to marry Larry”.

“No one wants to marry Larry, Yeosang”, Seonghwa spoke as he, once again, took Manny, the cat, and put it aside the animals. I was staring at them the whole time sipping a glass of water in silence because I've already tried to speak and they almost ate me alive. They decided to have “fun” trying to create some kind of bad soap opera, oblivious that the real drama was getting closer and closer.

“Fuck you, everyone wants to marry Larry, even Private Ryan”, Yeosang looked offended and hugged his turtle as if it was alive, he was trying to calm Larry down by caressing its shell.

“How could anyone marry him? He’s too slow for this, the cat needs some real man that can fly her away from monsters”, the black haired man logically explained and grinn when he watched me hiding a smile. It seemed that the main characters didn't realize the boys were there, waiting for some answers about the childish show. San looked exhausted thought. Despites the arguments for my kitten marrying the turtle or the bird, San walked to the couch I was sat on, grabbed Shiber and Manny and sat next to me, interrupting the play.

“Let’s finish this”, he started, “Manny and Shiber are engaged, I don’t even know why you guys are fighting for. Besides, Private Ryan is gonna be the best man and Larry will be the flower boy, now shut up and let them be happy forever so we can rest on our beds, we're pretty tired and I need silence", San made the kitten and his little dog kissed for a second while he looked dead serious with his knitted eyebrows. Then, his features relaxed when a giggle escaped my lips and I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. San’s eyes stared at me with the edges of his mouth barely up and handed the plushies to me. I let the glass or water aside and hugged them together. Seonghwa gasped and Yeosang just glared at San’s Shiber. San stood up and left the living room with Wooyoung side by side, he had the biggest Joker smile I’ve ever seen and kind of creeped me out.

The puppet show was over and we had a great dinner with the fishes they hunted. San let me sleep with Shiber as he now was Manny’s husband. What can I say? It was childish but cute. But suddenly, sleeping between Hongjoong and Seonghwa made me shiver, the warmth of the room disappeared slowly as my body lacked from the human contact. When my eyes opened, I was welcomed with pure loneliness and a cold room, I frowned. It was 2:35 AM according to my wristwatch, yet, I still could hear whispers coming from the living room, they were still taking about the trip. I was exhausted from the cleaning so I didn't think too much and closed my eyes one more time. I snuggled with Shiber between my arms the rest of the night.

Now it was Friday, I spent the entire day inside my room due to cramps, in the end of the world a woman still has to survive that pain. My head was killing me and I hesitated everytime I wanted to go outside for some air or a glass of water; however, Hongjoong and Seonghwa made sure to warned out the guys to be careful when they came around my room to not cause any problem and disturb my susceptible self. I would eat them alive if they try to argue with me in that state. I could also sense that something was going on, or perhaps I was delusional and craving for some sweet, but they kept they guard on when I started to ask about what they were doing or how was the plan. Hongjoong tensed while he put the cup of tea next to the bed and Seonghwa was the first to approach.

"Did you not sleep here?", I asked after they avoided the previous question. “I think I had another nightmare, you know, about day 1…”

"We've been talking with the guys about the next move", the raven boy said and smiled. "Don't worry about us, take the rest of the day."

"Yeosang sends his iPod", Hongjoong handed it with the headphones and kissed my head. "We'll talk later, Ji. You stay here and rest", then, they were gone, leaving me with Yeosang’s shuffle playlist. I didn’t ask anything else, however, a strange feeling inside my chest kept me uneased all day.

On Saturday I was ready to left the room, I was feeling a little bit better than the day before, moreover, the boys were cautious about my movements and talking.

“Do you need anything, Ji?”, Mingi asked patting my hair with a soft smile on his face. I returned the gesture touching his well-fitted chest and crunch my nose.

“I’m okay, Mingi, it’ll be over soon”, I assured him as he engulfed me in his strong and long arms.

“I’m happy I didn’t born as a woman.”

That was all he said before I killed him with my own hands. Well, actually I punched him a little and made him my slave for all day long. Another odd thing was that Jongho finally talked to me, he looked very sad, thought, but it was an improvement.

“Here are some pills Misuk always asked when she felt bad”, he handed me a little ziploc with five white pills.

“Oh… thank you, Jongho”, I gave him a quick smile and went to the kitchen.

I stuck to Hongjoong’s side all day since I wanted to be aware of the expedition. Unexpectedly, he was acting weird, he had a certain manner to handle things sometimes and now he was avoiding my gaze, he rather talk about everything but the trip road, he even ordered me to go and paint some animals on the fourth floor after lunch when Yeosang called him to set up some kind of loose ends on the plan. He almost yelled at me when I insisted on helping with the route map, that’s what I’m talking about, that mullet boy never acted like that. I knew I fucked up with Misuk’s murder, yet it increased the continuous torment of the voices inside my head blaming me all over again. I wasn’t ready for him to demonstrate such an attitude about my culpability, thus I stopped and went to my painting room as all the eyes in the place watched my walk of shame.

On Sunday every racional part of me started to fall apart. I woke up earlier than the boys, it was pretty unusual if I said. I made breakfast for all, some dumplings, fruits and a hella great coffee, maybe I thought it could be some payment to them for bearing my behavior; before anyone could see me, I grabbed my backpack, filled it with a bottle of water, a few dumplings and fruits, a blanket, some sunlight, my gun and Jongho’s pills.

I left the basement and went up to the fourth floor of the building, the sun started to rise from the window with its orange light and I smiled at it, I welcomed it with the few energy I had. It felt nostalgic, the quiet floor sometimes could be scary as hell, after all, I was alone in a building where no one would hear my screams from down earth. Moreover, while I put more and more space between the boys and myself, it started to feel like I wasn’t entirely alone, a thread connected us as we became a family after everything we’ve been through. Families fight, families made peace, I just needed a few hours away to understand that I was being skeptical over them hiding things, important things. And I knew we were going on the road the next day, but my chest ached with discomfort and concern due to Hongjoong’s distrust in my capacity to separate my feelings from our main mission: Wonderland. The tables had turned, I was so worry about Jongho being the one affected, but at the end it was only me and my persisting mouth.

My hands weren’t able to draw a thing, they were rigid, inflexible, unable to even paint a curve. So my feet took me to the rooftop when the sun was finally set up in the sky, saluting with warmth and happiness that I couldn’t feel either. I put some sunlight while I rested on the floor and closed my eyes. The bright light kept my dreams from the shadows as my mind traveled to a parallel world where everything around me glowed, where my body felt loose, like floating through the space in the quietness of the periphery. My chest went up and down as I took deep breaths and a minute later I was fully relaxed, no worries on my minds, no negative thoughts about blood, or death, or sorrow, or guilt... With every storm, there’s a rainbow somewhere, it just wasn’t raining any time soon. After a minute or two, the slumber won the battle between anxiety and disappointment and I submerged in the glowing sea of hope and dreams that onces were reachable in the impossible now.

A few hours later, a big shadow blinded the bright sun and made me open my eyes a bit faster than usual, the blurry figure was looking at me from above with a tense jaw and fisting hands.

“How long have you been here?”, the man signed abruptly and my eyebrows knitted.

“What do you mean?”, I raised my back up a little and sat slowly, for a few seconds dizziness invaded my sight and I blinked severely as Hongjoong’s face became visible.

“Did you not see the time, Jiyeong?”, then I looked around. The sky was still light up but little shiny stars started to show up as minutes passed by. How long did I sleep? I was sure my nightmares depravated me without a good rest, but I wasn’t aware of how tired I really was.

“We thought you’ve left a while ago”, again, he moved his hands harshly and it didn’t matter if we were quiet, his face expressed the anger he was holding inside.

“Couldn’t you look up in here?”, I got up on my two feet and dust off my clothes. “Even so, why would I leave without you? I was waiting till you had your breakfast to go downstairs and finally began the travel”.

“We already had lunch, Jiyeong, it’s been seven hours…”, I was taken by surprise realizing how much I was off, my skin felt warm due the sun but it didn’t hurt too much. “Don’t do that again, okay? We-… I thought...”, Hongjoong sighed and bit his lip.

“What? That I’ll leave you just because you’re being a dick to me? Nah, I’m too rational to know that we need to stick together no matter what.”

He avoided my eyes one more time and I finally snapped. I approached him, grabbed the collar of his jacket harshly, making him stumbled in his own feet. Anger boiled my blood as my body reacted without warning. My knuckles were white as the strength I put on my hold was too much for myself. Hongjoong’s eyes were wide open and his mouth partly opened startled, we never had an encounter like that before and me being aggressive was never on my mind, yet I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Suddenly, I let Hongjoong’s jacket go and signed with pure wrath.

“I’m tired of your shit, Hongjoong. All I’m trying to do is help you with the trip and here you are, treating me like I was some kind of girl that is too scared to hear men talk. I’m tired of being left alone. You realized I wasn’t in the basement like a minute ago and don’t try to lie to me”, Hongjoong was perplexed trying to catch up with my fast movements. He raised his hands and I shook my head. “You thought I was inside the bedroom after I cooked your breakfast just because you’re so caught up with the fucking plan that you don’t understand how shitty I felt this week. I know you don’t trust me, but don’t hide value information when we are a fucking team, Hongjoong…”

I was panting, the thumping of my heart almost scared me, was it that loud? Would the creatures listen to it? Hongjoong’s dumbfounded face was a poem, he just stood there looking right through me and I stood there, letting him. Two minutes later, he signed.

“This is the first time you said Hongjoong too many times instead of Joong, so… I assume I really upset you”, he pressed his hands on his temples, passed it through his hair and stepped closer to hug me tighter than ever. I didn’t return the gesture, not even when I really needed to hold him. When he noticed, he sighed one more time and let me go.

“I’m so sorry… it’s just that San and I’ve been changing some things we already had planned before the incident with Misuk and we had to arrange things by putting you too much pressure, most of us are against the idea of lending you such demands when Seonghwa is as well going through it…”, his sad eyes showed how anxious he was, he cupped my face with his hands and caressed my cheeks. A ghost smile appeared on my face and made him grin in victory.

“This is not the first time we’ve faced dead friends or family, Joong. I’m stronger than this, it just happened to bring back old bad memories, that’s all”, I signed and shrugged, not wanting to think about them after my seven hours sleep.

“That’s all…”, he signed in response. He pressed his lips together as he squeezed my shoulders and stepped back. His eyes looked around quickly with a bothered gaze. “What if we talked inside? It’s getting darker and I- we need you safe…”, Hongjoong grabbed the bag on the floor,opened the rooftop’s door for me and extended his hand for me to hold it.

“Only if you agree to make some of that horrible tea for me before we go…”, I crossed my arms over my chest and stopped a meter away from him. The mullet boy’s grin fainted and he swallowed hard, that made me frowned. But before I could ask, he nodded with a smile, hold my hand and made me follow him to the basement. A cup of tea wasn’t going to stop me from demanding answers, not when I could tell that something was disturbing him; after all, we were ready to leave the place that day and nothing could stop us, at least nothing that I was aware of.

(...)

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