#at the same time im so emotionless and i need those two things to fill the emptiness | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rreeaahh · 4 years ago

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Arms Tonite | draco malfoy

Arms Tonite - for @vogueweasley ‘s writing challenge (inspired by the song)

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader (ravenclaw)

words count: 10k - lyrics in italic

summary; your relationship with draco went from strangers, to lovers, to strangers again - but it broke the barrier between life and death.

warnings: the word “mudblood”; swearing; death eaters; voldemort; death of a character; some fluff; angst; kinda sad; slow burn; blood mention; (that’s all i could think of, please let me know if there are more!)

a/n: im so so so sorry if thats too long, my loves! i got carried away by this idea - i had it in my mind for so so long i used @vogueweasley 's writing challenge as motivation. again, congratulations mere! You're one of the first writers ive followed here, and I'm happy to see your blog growing❤️

“Can I sit there?” you asked softly, embracing the pile of books to your chest. They were all for your Potions’ essay, where you really wanted to excel, only to prove Professor Snape what you were capable of.

Since the first year, Snape turned out to be a walking nightmare for all the students in the entire castle, especially for the ones who hadn’t a green tie around their neck. Being a Ravenclaw, the desire to know more was a normal thing for you: always asking questions and making assumptions only to gain more information made Snape grow a feeling of hatred towards you. He’d externalize that hate by giving you extra work, asking you questions you had no idea to answer, criticizing your skills in front of the class – basically, everything he could do to embarrass yourself and to show your classmates that you weren’t as smart as you wanted to introduce yourself.

“What?” the boy asked in confusion, his fingers squeezing the silver quill he was using to take notes from a booked that seemed to be about Transfiguration – a subject where you were at the top of the class, as Professor McGonagall told you proudly.

“I asked if I could stay here,” you repeated in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb the rest of the people who were struggling with their work. “All the tables are taken and that’s my spot, usually,” you added when he frowned his brows, scanning the room.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said careless, going back to his piece of parchment. “That’s my spot usually, too, but I haven’t seen you here,” he whispered as you sat down, in front of him.

“I don’t think we share classes, so I think we don’t go to the library at the same time. But maybe it could be our spot from now on.” Your explanation made the blonde boy look away, his cheeks running paler while the skin of his neck, revealed by the crack of his unbottoned shirt, seemed to burn.

The silence fell on you two, the room being filled only with whispers and quills running their ink on the papers. You really had to impress Snape with that essay, you had enough of his comments and ugly looks – he was a great teacher, a very skilled person, but he had a horrible way to be human – that if he could be considered a human being. Deep down you feared Snape – his cold eyes, his fluttering cloak and his loud steps: all of that gave you goosebumps all over your body. Thinking of those you felt your breath tangling up in your throat, and the letters started to dance in front of your eyes. At first, you looked around the room, searching for the Weasley twins, but it wasn’t a prank: it was the stress which took control over your mind, playing tricks and messing with you. Your throat was dry, and every time you tried to swallow your saliva it felt like you had sand in your mouth. Your tablemate seemed to notice your discomfort, because he looked at you under his eyelashes, his right brow raising in confusion or annoyance.

“What are you doing?” he asked, now looking at you without any reservation.

“Hm?” you buzzed, making eye contact with him. You couldn’t figure out if he was surprised by your daring glare, or intimidated or amused – he only kept on looking into your eyes, not revealing any true emotion.

“You keep on swallowing and it looks like you’re drowning or something.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you smiled politely, which made him go back to his work. But when you kept on acting like you couldn’t breathe, he dropped his quill on the table and look like you with frustration. “What?”

“You’re distracting me, obviously,” he rolled his eyes. “Some of us are trying to focus, so keep quiet or leave.”

It was very rude of him – in your opinion – to talk to you, a complete stranger, like he could give you orders; especially when you did nothing wrong.

“Me too,” you sighed, “It’s only that…” But you stopped in the middle of the sentence, reminding that you didn’t know who you were talking to, and he probably didn’t care.

“Only what?” he asked, making you look at him again. His face was blank – relaxed, like he was an emotionless metal can.

“I’m not that good with Potions, so I’m struggling a little bit,” you smiled with shame, not knowing exactly why you felt that way admitting you weren’t good at something.

“We all are struggling,” he said like it wasn’t a big deal, pointing to his Transfiguration book. “Some of us on simple things, I see,” he commented after he took a sight at the books you chose and the big title you wrote on the parchment.

“Then maybe we could help each other,” you proposed, smiling at him in a friendly nature. He didn’t seem to understand your idea, given the frowned brows and half eyes that were starring at you. “I’m good at Transfiguration, the best if we’re to follow McGonagall’s words, so I could help you if you help me with my Potions essay.”

He took a moment to think, looking back and forward to your books and his, to your parchments and his – yours were filled with paragraphs and his were decorated with meaningless drawings. “I only need some notes, it’s not fair to do your whole essay in exchange of some stupid phrases,” he said like you were trying to fool him.

You chuckled and leaned back on your chair. “Yeah, nothing’s free,” you smiled, “Ok, then I’ll write your notes and you’ll write me the main ideas – after that I’ll write it on my own.” He stayed thoughtful and quiet, looking at your face; you tried hard not to run your fingers to your cheek, searching for dirt or anything that had him starring. “Deal?” you asked.

He held out his hand in your direction. “Deal,” was his only response, waiting for you to conclude the pact. And you did – you gently shook his hand, the skin of his palm feeling smooth against your own, like he was using lots of lotion every night before going to bed. But it was a nice feeling, which led a wave of warmth all over your body along with a good premonition about how he’d do your homework and him, in general.

The two of you switched your belongings, the only item that wasn’t switch being the quills – he was holding his like it was the biggest treasure he ever had; and maybe it was, you thought. Maybe it had an emotional story and he wanted to keep the quill only because of the memories it hold, but maybe he was only careful with what belonged to him. You never really had anyone to help you with your work – when you were a child your parents encouraged you to keep on trying by yourself in order to succeed, and you grew up avoiding other’s help, only to prove them that you could do it alone. After a while, in your third year of Hogwarts, you wanted to be helped, but it seemed like your older housemates were too busy and the ones your age were looking for you to help them. So, to be in the library on a Friday afternoon, helped by a boy you never crossed paths with before seemed like a new – and somehow exciting – experience. It was nice to write on the parchments which had their edges and corners filled with something that seemed to be flowers or some kind of plant with curled leaves. You often asked him questions about what you should or shouldn’t write, and depending on his answer you’d write down more explicit notes, as he kept on commenting how many useless things you’ve wrote in your essay by far – but he was funny, telling you that you should give Snape the essay the way it is so maybe you all could be lucky and get rid of the sulky teacher sooner than expected.

After some time, they boy looked at the silver watch on his left wrist and put down the quill. “My study time’s over,” he announced and you also put down the writing instrument, handing him the papers you tried to write as eligible as you could. “That’s all?” he asked and scoffed.

“Actually, I have more things to add, but…” You tried to say, but he already began to gather his things, closing the Transfiguration book and folding the parchments. “We could meet tomorrow, or Sunday,” you proposed and also got up when he did. You tried to make eye contact with him one more time, not paying that much attention to the height difference between you two.

“Again?” he spoke, fulfilling your wish. His eyes were mesmerizing – such a light blue, reminding you of a sunny sky.

“Yeah, I mean, if you want – it would be beneficial for both of us to finish what we started.”

And he thought that way too, because the next day he was already in the same spot of the library, all by himself, trying to decipher the entangled letter you wrote the other day. “Maybe Snape doesn’t like you because of your handwriting,” he said when you sat down, making you smile and chuckle – an action that caused him to have a little smile in the corner of his lips, too. And those smiles continued to grow on your faces, because besides the theoretical information you two changed, there were also a little funny comment slipped through the conversation.

“See you tomorrow?” you asked while gathering your things, because that time you were the one who needed to leave earlier.

“I can’t,” he simply said. “I have to study.”

“Isn’t that the reason we met here today?” you laughed, “To study together?”

“No, we met today to finish our deal – which is pretty much done,” he explained in a plain voice, pointing to the pages in your hand. The structure of the essay was done; you only needed to put it all together and his Transfiguration notes were enough for him to understand better the subject.

“Oh,” you said in a whisper. “Yeah, right, thank you…” you smiled to him, whishing that he’d realize that you two never introduced each other properly, but he only returned the smile in a polite way.

“You’re welcome,” was all he said and went back to his book, trying to put head to head the theory you made and the information from the book.

That Saturday you left the library with a strange feeling of loneliness – he was a stranger, but he helped you concentrate and also helped you with something that – maybe – was the most important opportunity for you to shut Snape’s mouth. That day flew by without you even realizing, but at night you found yourself thinking about the boy who tapped his fingers on the wooden surface anytime he’d search for the right words but couldn’t stand a strange breathing near him, and a pair of iced eyes was present in your dreams, doing nothing more than watching you with all the possible emotions mirroring in them.

“How was your weekend by far, Hermione?” you asked the girl only to break the strange silence between you two. She was looking for a specific book, and it happened to bump into her when you came to the library to continue your work.

It was a few hours after lunch, on a sunny Sunday when most of the students preferred to study or to simply hang out in the courtyards, lying on the grass. It wasn’t very weird that you had to deal with all those stares when you went to the library on such a beautiful day. You weren’t a bookworm or a nerd, but it was a special thing and you really wanted to have it all done by the end of Monday at least, so you wouldn’t be loaded with other things.

“It was… acceptable,” she responded and shrugged, going back to look for that book on the selves. “As acceptable as it could be a weekend spend in the company of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley,” she continued and you laughed. She was the brain of that trio, and it might be stressful to be their friend – but you were pretty sure it wasn’t that horrible since she stayed by their side for so long. “What about you?” she returned the question, giving up on her searching as she couldn’t find the right book.

Hermione followed you to your usual table, situated in a corner of the room, where the rays of sun came through the wide window and lighted all the pages. You sat down, leaving aside the parchments for some moments of chatting with your friend. “It was… fun,” you smiled, “I was here two days in a row doing homework.”

Hermione laughed while flipping the pages gently. “And Ronald says I’m the one who needs to sort out her priorities.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes, “It was fun because I had a study buddy. It was really nice,” the explanation made the girl leave her book and watch you with sudden interest. You knew Hermione wasn’t the type who gossip, so her attention was pure curiosity.

“Who?”

“I don’t really know,” you sighed, a little disappointment in your voice as you looked at your fingers, which were unconsciously tapping on the table. “We never made a proper introduction.”

The Gryffindor girl played with the zipper of her hoodie, looking like he was trying to remember all the persons who ever entered that room. “How was he looking?”

Handsome was the first word you wanted to say, as a joke, but a discarded book landed on your table, right on top of your papers and made you looks at the person whose shadow was covering your face.

“What is she doing at our spot?”

“Malfoy,” Hermione growled with hatred, “I don’t think your father bought the tables in the entire library, too,” she said and made the boy look at her with as much venom as a snake could carry.

So he was Malfoy – the mean boy Hermione would mention from time to time, the one who’d always have a harsh word to tell Ron and the one who despised The Chosen One so much. Your timetable never interfered with their, and you’d usually spend your weekends and breaks with some classmates you were friends with, so you never really crossed path with that Malfoy boy. You knew about him, but you didn’t know him – not until then.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Mudblood; learn to speak only when spoken to,” he said in a mockery tone, his eyes going back to you.

You looked at him, and then at Hermione, who seemed to search in you something you couldn’t actually find. “Well?” he repeated, but there was no response from you.

“What does he mean, Y/N? Your spot?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

“He’s… my study buddy,” you spoke and Malfoy raised his brow at the appellative, while Hermione froze.

“I’ll leave you with your study buddy, then,” she whispered to you and left, not before taking the book that was thrown on the table by the Slytherin boy.

Your hand was shaking when you grabbed the quill, going back to finish the essay that you started to properly write last night in your dormitory. “Yeah, take my scrap, you filthy Mudblood,” he commented and watched Hermione leave. He then sat down, in front of you, slightly pushing away from him the chair were your friend sat some seconds ago. “Don’t tell me she’s following you around like a little puppy,” he laughed and you looked at him in confusion.

“She’s my friend,” you simply said.

The confusion was now on Malfoy’s face. “Friend?” he scoffed.

“Don’t you have friends?”

“Plenty,” he responded quickly. “But my friends have my back when I’m in an argument.”

You shrugged and looked down again to your essay. “I’m a neutral person, I’m not picking sides,” you explained. He watched you write without any other interruption, but you were feeling weird to be aware of his presence in your perimeter and being as talkative as a fish. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you wrote your name at the bottom of the last paper. He quickly grabbed them all, smiling at your expression.

“I made some free time to come and read our final product.” He went back to be silent, his blue eyes running from left to right in order to read all the things you wrote more calligraphic, only thinking about his comment and about the nice letters he used to make the summary yesterday. “It’s good,” he said proudly, like it was his own.

“Really?” you asked shyly, not ready to have a criticism on that yet.

“Yes, I see you kept some of my phraseology,” he smiled in a kind way, returning the parchments to you.

“It was really well structured,” you laughed and ran a hand through your hair, blushing when you saw him starring intensely at your face – you really wanted to ask him if there was something on your face.

“It’s perfect, Y/N,” he repeated, “Snape can’t say otherwise. It’s nearly as good as mine are,” he assured you. His response made you laugh loudly, gaining some hissing from Madam Pince; your hands went to your mouth, covering it, and the boy looked at you with amusement.

“Thank you, Malfoy,” you whispered, scared to talk even in a quiet way. You knew how much the librarian hated the loud students, and you really didn’t want to be one of them. To be on her blacklist was something no one really wanted.

“Call me Draco,” he asked and got up. “I have to go, but I’m sure your work will be appreciated tomorrow.”

“It’s for Friday, actually.”

“So you had a week to do it, but you did it right away?” he laughed this time, but he seemed careless at Madam’s Pince hiss.

“What?” you pouted, already annoyed by his laugh. You knew what he was going to say, and it made you somehow ashamed.

“Nothing,” he said to your surprise, “It’s just that… I’ve never seen somebody to be that ambitious when it comes about school.”

“So you don’t make fun of me,” you thought out loud, making him chuckle again.

“Why would I make fun of you for being a determined person?” he asked and you returned his smile, more shyly, and waved him goodbye as you saw him walking away.

It was the last moment when you saw Draco Malfoy – Monday morning you looked for him in the Great Hall at breakfast, lunch, dinner and even after classes – but due to the large amount of students, he was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t put a foot in the library, because you stayed there awhile, doing your homework or reading – more like pretending to do any of those – but he never came. It was like he was swallowed by a big black hole and forgotten by all the people in Hogwarts. Nobody near you mentioned his name, and you didn’t dare to ask Hermione about him after the ‘study buddy’ situation. She said it was all fine between you two, because she knew about your neutral personality. It was simple: you never got into fights yourself or got involved when other people would argue – it was simple that way. You asked her if she was alright after Draco said all those things to her, of course, but when she told you it was alright you didn’t insisted more.

Friday came faster than you had thought and you were quite nervous to hand Snape your essay. All your classmates wished you good luck, even if they were in the exact same situation as you were – not quite the same, actually, because you were the only one asked to stay over class so the Potions Master could have a word with you.

“You wanted to talk to me, Professor?” you asked when the rest of the students left you all alone with Snape, who sat in the front of the class, hands crossed over his chest and a frowned look on his face.

“Obvious,” he spoke in his monotone voice, coming closer to your desk. “What is this, Miss L/N?” he asked, throwing in front of you the essay, all the pages spreading on the table.

“My essay, Sir,” you told him confident, already preparing your speech about how hard you worked on it and how he couldn’t say it was a piece of trash.

“Your essay?” he asked serious, and then he faked a laugh. “I think you mean Mister’s Malfoy essay,” he then handed you another parchment, with Draco’s name on it, neatly written.

You read a few phrases from his work, but there was nothing alike between them aside some expressions – the ones Draco observed you kept from his notes. “I didn’t steal his work, Sir,” you said in a quiet voice, not daring to look him in the eyes. You didn’t need to do that to know how mad he was.

“You didn’t steal it, you copied it.”

“No, I…” but he already made up his mind. He asked you to leave, informing you that you’d get more work to do, along with a week of detention.

Your blood was boiling and you only wanted to scream how much you hated everything: how much you hated Snape, for being a prick, how much you hated yourself, for not being able to do your own homework alone and how much you hated Draco, for ‘helping’ you and then disappearing – but he didn’t disappear, because he was in the end of the corridor, all by himself, his hands on his trousers’ pockets, standing in an elegant posture leaning on the wall. The dark always present on the Dungeons made him look paler that he seemed in the library’s sunrays, but the blue of his eyes was still remembering you of the clear sky in the moment he heard your steps.

“Y/N,” he greeted you from afar, a little smile growing on the corner of his lips. “How was…” but you didn’t give him the occasion to finish his sentence, leaving the dark corridor in a hurry.

It was odd that after a week of thinking only about him, about the blue of his eyes, about the way his voice would seem lighter when he was holding back his laugh, about the cute way he’d smile only a half of joy, you ran away from his presence like he was your worst nightmare when, in fact, he was present in your sweetest dreams.

It was your desire to be alone the one which made you isolate yourself in your room for some good hours, crying and hitting the pillows, throwing them in the walls and then gathering them, only to throw them again. You felt the way Snape’d describe your skills, work or everything you did: trash – you felt like trash. You thought about going to dinner with your housemates when you heard them leaving the Common Room, but you realized that Snape’s face, eating at the teachers’ table would’ve turned your stomach upside down. So you stayed there for another hour, thinking about everything and nothing in particular; you just knew that you were sick of it, sick of everything and you just needed a break.

And that’s what you did: you took a break. You left the dormitory only undressing yourself from the blue robes and went running on the empty corridors. When you left, you weren’t sure where you’d go – but you found yourself in the Astronomy Tower, watching the entire yard and the environs of the castle. The sky was painted in pastel colors, the sun bathing in the red color of the lake. It was beautiful and you wanted nothing than to be the same with all of it.

“I hate it all!” you screamed looking up to the sky, closing your eyes. “I hate Severus Snape!” you screamed again, opening your eyes and looking down. It was a long, long way to the bottom, where the cobbled paths would wait. “I hate that he managed to make me feel so useless,” now you whispered, tightening the metal balustrade between your palm until they became white. You shook the metal as hard as you could, but it stood still; the effort left you breathless, but you still managed to scream from the bottom of your lungs: “I hate myself!”

You had no idea where that came from – it was the first time you thought that way about you, but it felt very honest. You hated how much pressure you’ve put on your shoulders and now that you were too weak to carry it all, you felt worthless. The only thing you knew was that you were crying, so hard that your sobs didn’t let you hear the steps approaching you in such a hurry. The force of the hand that grabbed your elbow was unexpected, making you stumble on your own legs. The warm feeling immediately invaded your whole body as soon as you fell in a pair of arms, which were holding you hard enough not to fall to the ground.

“What the hell were you doing, Y/N?!” he screamed, the image of his face being blurred because of the tears in your eyes. You blinked a few times and there he was: Draco Malfoy, with a worried look on his face but with the same beautiful blue eyes.

“Draco…” you whispered and grabbed the material of his white shirt, “What are you doing here?” you managed to ask without your voice cracking.

“You didn’t come to dinner, and after the way you walk away from earlier…” he said and became paler, “But what were you doing? Don’t tell me you tried to…”

But you shook your head in negation faster than the words he said. “No, of course not,” you said trying to convince yourself more than him. “I was just… having a moment,” you explained and withdrew from his arms, hugging yourself to calm down.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked again and touched your shoulders, his hands burning the skin under your uniform shirt.

“Snape said I copied your essay,” you succeed to whisper after a long silence, the tears coming back into your eyes.

His brows went lower, his mouth in a line. “Have you told him that I helped you?”

“No,” you said, now crying again. He wiped away a tear that rolled on your cheek. “He told me to leave before I could say anything, and now I have detention a whole week.”

“Sh, sh, sh,” he hummed as he pulled you back into his arms, one of his hands laying on your back as the other one was caressing your hair. “You don’t need to cry,” he spoke gently and his movements became clumsy as you cried even harder. “I’ll take care of it, Y/N,” he assured you and suddenly, your tears dried up.

“What?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“I… I’ll talk to Snape about it,” he repeated, “It’s not fair to act that way towards you when your essay was so good.”

All the parts of your body were screaming to kiss him only because he was that near to you. But you were too puzzled up to even hear those screams in your head. “You’ll get in trouble too, Draco.”

“No,” he smiled. “Let’s say that Snape owns my father one,” he smiled devilish, and contrary his expectations you smiled like you haven’t been crying until then.

“But why are you doing that?” you laughed and tried not to freak out because he was still holding you.

“So you could own me one later,” he continued to smile even after you hit them slightly in chest. “What? Nothing’s free, remember?”

You bit your cheek, trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah, sure.”

“So we have a deal?”

“No,” you said and raised a brow. “We have a deal only if you don’t get yourself in trouble by talking to Snape or, even worst, getting me into a bigger mess. You need to succeed in order to have a deal.”

“That sounds like a deal to me,” he smirked and ran a hand through his blonde hair, which seemed more like gray in the light given by the moon.

“We have a deal, then,” you laughed and tighten up a bit the grip on his shirt.

“Don’t ever stay that close to the edge again,” he asked you and you could see the same feeling of anxiety on his face. You nodded your head in agreement and he hugged you again. “You scared the shit out of me,” he confessed.

It was the first time in your life when you felt that somebody was truly worried about you. Your parents would’ve just watch you break down and then get up and try again, telling you that it’s the normal way to educate yourself. But that night, in his arms, you felt that you weren’t the same lonely child. It was a warm feeling, a feeling of a new burning in your heart. And it was a nice feeling.

I fell in your arms tonight / I fell hard in your arms tonight / It was nice

You agreed to meet Draco the next day in the Astronomy Tower half an hour before the dinner would finish and you were surprised to see him already there, welcoming you with the same somehow evil smirk he had the other day.

“You own me one,” he said without even waiting for you to say something. “Snape told me he’ll forget about the detention, but you need to make some rephrasing on your essay.” He was proud of his manipulative skills and you could see it in his eyes – there was a little sparkle as you approached him.

“Good job, Draco,” you said smiling from an ear to the other. “I guess I own you one.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

You look over the skyline and went closer to the balustrade, Draco following you closely even after you sat down on the stone floor, your legs hanging on the outside. You seemed to be secure enough, so Draco sat down and looked at the sunset as well.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did,” he puffed and you punched his shoulder, smiling.

“You’re an idiot, you know what I mean.”

“Why am I an idiot?” he asked and turned to face you with an ugly look.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” you told him quickly. “I call my friends that way when they say something dumb but they’re funny at the same time,” you explained, ashamed that you offended him.

He was silent for a moment and looked at the lake again. “My father uses that term to talk about incompetent people,” he said and you looked away from his face.

“I guess it’s a way to use it, too,” you spoke shy.

“Why do you want to ask me?” he changed the subject, removing the awkward tension between you two.

“Why did you called Hermione Granger that word?” you asked cautious not to upset him with your curiosity.

“That’s what she is,” he said nonchalantly, “She’s a Mudblood, and she is inferior to us.”

“Only because of her blood?” you laughed. “And how do you know I’m not inferior to you too?”

“I made my research on you before talking to you again,” he shrugged.

“She’s superior to both of us in many ways, Draco,” you told him and looked at him in the moment he did the same. “She lives in another world at the same time she lives in this one,” you explained, “We were born surrounded by magic and that’s our only way of living.”

He lour. “Why do you say that?”

“I take the Muggle Studies class,” you smiled proudly.

“Why would you do that?” he scoffed. If you ignored his mentality on that subject, you could say he was really cute.

“It’s interesting,” you started. “They have many objects we have no idea about and they have fairy tales about anything – they’re kind of superstitious.”

“Superstitious?” he asked like he was curious and not like he wanted to mock you.

“Yeah,” you said and got up. “Maybe I’ll tell you about some superstitions one day.”

“Tomorrow night,” he asked you and got up as well.

“You want to know more about Muggles?” you laughed.

He shrugged. “It’s your chance to prove me they’re not inferior to us.”

“Ok,” you smiled and took the challenge.

You left the Tower walking by his side, and your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he walked you to your Common Room door, wishing you a goodnight. The next day Professor Snape wanted to talk to you again after class, this time apologizing for the way he managed the situation, but you could tell he wasn’t very pleased with what he was saying. When the dinner was nearly finished, you could see Draco leaving the Great Hall without looking in your direction and you knew it was the signal to get up and do the same thing after some minutes. You thought it’d be better if nobody would know where you were going and with who.

“Ready to learn about Muggles?” you asked him with joy as soon as you got in the highest place in Hogwarts.

“Whatever,” he laughed and rolled his eyes.

You brought a book you got last year on your birthday from Hermione, a book about a lot of things the Muggles believe in. You read out loud some pages and Draco only sat next to you, listening. It was somehow therapeutic to read in front of him because he didn’t disturb you, he even looked like he was enjoying it.

“So they even have a specific flower for when somebody dies?” he asked out of a sudden. He was really paying attention.

“Yeah, in some countries,” you smiled. “In Italy, France or Belgium – where it’s made the best chocolate – the white chrysanthemum is well known to be brought at somebody’s funeral. But they also represent loyalty and devoted love, so I think it makes it even more beautiful. They’re my favorites,” you smiled.

“A flower that represents the death is your favorite?” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’ve never seen a chrysanthemum, and that’s something, considering the fact that my mother has a gigantic garden.”

He was often talking about his mother and you deducted that he’s a mummy boy – it was cute to know that he loved his mother dearly.

“I would love to see it,” you smiled politely.

“Maybe you will,” he said and caught you by surprise. “I mean, maybe you’ll see a garden as big as my mother’s,” he clarified when he observed those big eyes of yours.

“Yeah,” you said in a quiet voice, looking back into your book.

“What?” he asked and you didn’t respond him.

You were… sad? Disappointed? It was a strange and groundless feeling given by the idea that you’ll never see the garden of his house, and that also meant that you’ll never meet his mother, who was already painted in your mind like an elegant and kind woman.

“Are you upset?” he asked again and grabbed your jaw carefully, making you form eye contact.

“No,” you said simply, and the honesty in your voice surprised you. It was like all the hard feelings were erased by his eyes, by their calming color.

“Good,” he smiled, “Because you shouldn’t be upset.”

“Why?” you asked.

“I’ll bring you all the flowers from my mother’s garden if you’re not upset,” he traced his fingers up to your cheek, placing a strand of hair behind your red ear – all your emotions ran to your head, making the skin he touched burn.

“Why?” you asked again like a curious kid.

He rolled his eyes in a playful way, trying to pretend he was tired of your whys. “Because a pretty face like yours shouldn’t frown. You’ll get wrinkles,” he laughed and pinched your nose.

“Auch,” you hissed, massaging the end of your nose. “You say I’m pretty?”

“I say it’s time to get you back to your Common Room,” he nodded his head and got up, offering you his hand to help you get up.

The walk to the Ravenclaw’s door was silent, and when you got there it was an even more annoying silence. He only watched you like he was waiting for your next move.

“Uh, I can’t come tomorrow night,” you informed him. “I have to help my roommate study for Transfiguration.”

“So she’s stealing my study buddy,” he joked.

“I’ll see you around, though?”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled and you just wanted to kiss that little dimple of his.

So you did – you got up to your toes and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Draco,” you smiled and entered the empty room, all your housemates already being off to their dormitories, probably. Your heart was pouting hard, like it was trying to escape the little cage of your ribs, but your soul was feeling warm and sweet, like honey.

The next day you tried to focus in all your classes, you tried to pay attention to your friends but all you could think of was Draco Malfoy, with his blue eyes and sweet dimple. It was a boring night the one you spent in your room, listening and explaining to your roommate simple things about your Transfiguration class, the same ones that Draco found difficult – even that made you think about him. It was a great relief to walk again on the stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, the excitement making your heart jump with joy. It dropped to the bottom of your soul when you didn’t find him there, and it broke when he didn’t come at all.

Maybe you scared him – maybe he didn’t want you to kiss his cheek, maybe he didn’t want you so close to him. Maybe you screwed it up. And you really believed that when he didn’t come two nights in a row, making you to skip dinner on the third night. You didn’t have the power to cry again, but you really wanted to – you nearly managed to get a tear out of you if it wouldn’t be eagle owl which entered your room through the open window.

“What’s up with you, stupid bird?” you asked in anger, making the owl give you a response in the same tonality. “Easy,” you spoke as you took the little parchment from its claw.

‘You didn’t come to dinner, are you sick? If you are, take a good sleep and get better. — D.M'

You crumbled the little letter and thrown it away telling the bird to leave you alone. You walked from left to right, biting your nails out of anxiety and anger – who was he to ignore you three days and then ask to meet you? You grabbed the letter from the floor and read it again, and the curiosity won against your anger. You grabbed a blue sweater and ran to the Astronomy Tower, but walked the steps so he wouldn’t know the speed with which you came. You were furious at him – you couldn’t wait to scream at him and tell him to fuck off with his unhealthy behaviors, but when you saw him leaning on the stone wall in front of you with a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and a small box on the other one, you just froze on the last step.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greeted you with a smile on the corner of his lips. You approached him slowly; your eyes going from his face go his hands and back to his hands. “I see you’re not sick,” he said when you were in front of him. “Why haven’t you come to dinner?”

“Why didn’t you give me a sign of living?” you asked straight, searching for his eyes.

“I was… busy,” he said and cleared his throat. “But I asked my mother to get me those,” he smiled and handed you the bouquet of chrysanthemums and the little box. “Open it,” he asked impatient.

You undone the little bow and opened it with one hand, the other holding carefully the flowers. Your hands were shaking. “Chocolate,” you laughed nervous.

“From Belgium, just like the flowers,” he said proud, smiling. “Don’t you like them?” he asked a little panicked when you didn’t say a thing, only watching the flowers in such an examining way.

“I love them!” you said, “I love them, Draco,” you assured them, holding them to your chest like you were scared he’d get them back.

“Good, I hoped you’d say that.”

You smelt them, and your whole soul was dancing – the sweet smell reminded you of the late autumn’s rains, of the lazy sunrays and all the nice skies in the world.

“I love them Draco, but what’s the occasion?”

He massaged the back of his head, avoiding your eyes. “You don’t need a reason to get flowers, Y/N. You deserve them anytime,” he said and your heart exploded at his cuteness. “My mother told me it’d be nice if I would give them to you before anything else,” he said and bite his lower lip immediately after, like he said something he didn’t mean to.

“Before what, Draco?” you asked curious. He was so good at making you all set on fire, unfocused and yet so, so concentrated on him.

“You’re a nice girl, Y/N, really nice,” he said in a quiet voice. His tonality made you thought about a break-up – like he wanted to break the bond that began to form between you two.

“What are you trying to tell me, Draco?” you asked in a harsh tone. “Just say it, ok? You don’t need to bring me flowers and chocolate if you want to say goodbye, it’s not like I’m dying,” you said pointing to the chrysanthemums.

“No, no, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “The white chrysanthemums represent loyalty and devoted love,” he whispered.

“Oh,” was all you could say. “Oh,” you repeated when you figured out what he really meant.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, and you laughed along with him. The sound of his laugh made your heart put itself back together. “So…” he started and came closer to you.

“So?” you said, biting your lips and blinking slowly.

“So may I kiss you, Y/N?” he asked in such a kind voice, all your body going soft at his words. His mother must’ve taught him how to talk to a girl – and she did such a good job.

You nodded shyly and let yourself carried by his hands, which dragged your body closer to his. He gently pressed his lips on your, letting them stay together for a couple of seconds and then retiring. His blue eyes were looking into yours, burning with desire and impatience. Your hands tightened the flowers and the little box harder, and you put them around his neck, getting him even closer to you and smashing your lips back together. His hands were on your waist, grabbing the material of your sweater between his fingers. Your eyes were closed and your body was filled with warmth – you saw nothing and yet, somehow, you were aware of everything in the Universe through a white light.

White light in your arms tonight / I lost sight in your arms tonight / It was nice

The next months were full of love and laughs for you – Draco was the most careful boy you’ve ever been with. He still wanted you two to have secret little dates in the Astronomy Tower, where you’d read to him about Muggles and poetry written by them.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute that I listen to you reading about that non-sense?” he asked once.

“It’s poetry, Draco,” you scoffed, “It’s about love!”

Besides the secret dates, he really wanted to go public. He was the type to show you off in front of everyone, only to make sure that every other boys knew that you were off their league but in a kind way – he’d kiss your forehead on the hallways, walk you to classes even if that meant he’d be late to his and gave you endless gifts. You received a lot of chrysanthemums, love letters and sweets anytime his mother would send him a package. Your roommates were jealous of you even if they told you directly that they didn’t like Draco and there was nothing to do about it. Hermione wasn’t so happy either and somehow distanced herself from you when she found out about your relationship, but Draco made you to forget all those things – he was the bad guy in everyone’s story, and even if some time ago he wasn’t even a side-character in yours, he became the climax of your story. You didn’t love Draco for his gift, you loved him truly – you loved him for the kind words, the warm glares, the sweet kisses and the tight hugs. And you knew he loved you too, because he made you feel safe in the whole madness with the Dark Lord and the war everyone was talking about.

“Do you think there’ll be a war, Draco?” you asked one night when you two where curled up into each other’s arms.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he said absent.

“I heard that Harry’s forming an army,” you said and looked up to him, only to see him rolling his eyes.

“Potter isn’t capable to tie his own laces, my love, and you think he’s able to lead an army?” he laughed and that made you roll your eyes. “You’re funny.”

“But you’re the only one taking it as a joke, you’re the one who’s laughing,” you said and he frowned.

“Then I think I have to change that,” he said and his fingers came to your ribs, tickling you.

You started to laugh hard, to fight so you could escape his torture, begging him to stop. “Draco, that’s enough!” you screamed as you felt tears in your eyes, so you grabbed his arm and tried to scratch him playfully to make him stop.

Hissing, he let you go and pulled away from you, his hand over the left arm.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you asked worried that you hurt him.

“Nothing,” he said in an annoyed voice, getting up on his feet and looking down to you. “I’m fine,” he said and something in your mind clicked. For more than two weeks he’d say that stupid phrase whenever you asked him what happened – he seemed tired and anxious, but whenever you’d ask about him he’d become fine.

“Don’t try to fool me, Draco,” you said annoyed as well and, already on your feet, you’d try to grab his hand and reveal the possible wound.

“I said I’m fine, Y/N,” he repeated and avoided your hands like they’d burn him.

“And I said to stop fooling me!” you shouted and sneaked close enough to him to get his hand away from his arm, but he pushed you harder than he thought – you fell on the ground, a piece of material in your hand; his sleeve – ripped, revealing red lines, scratches – who were older, but reopened by your nails – which were covering the worst thing you could think of: the Dark Mark. The air left your lungs and your head started to spin, the vision becoming blurred.

“Y/N…” he tried to say, coming closer to you but you crawled away.

“What the fuck, Draco?!” you screamed and got up by yourself. “Stay away!” you said when he tried to approach you.

“I can explain, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking.

“How on earth you could explain the Dark Mark on your arm?” you shouted again, your hands running in your hair and pulling it.

“Sh,” he said loud, asking you to be quiet. “It’s not what it looks like, my love, I swear.”

You laughed – loud, nervous. “Then what it is?”

“They made me do it, Y/N!”

“They made you get the Dark Mark, become a fucking Death Eater and join Voldemort?” you screamed again and step back when he tried to come closer.

“My father, he… I didn’t want to, Y/N,” he said quietly, his eyes starting to get wet.

“You lied to me, Draco,” you whispered. “You said everything will be fine, you said you’ll protect me!”

“And I will!” he also screamed. “I will,” he repeated breathing heavily.

“How? Making me join the Death Eaters so they wouldn’t kill me later?” you mocked him, and you could say it hurt him to see you that way – but you didn’t care.

“Nobody will kill you, Y/N,” he said, trying to calm you. “You’ll be fine, we’ll be fine.”

“A war is coming, Draco,” you said harshly, “The Dark Lord is alive and back and anyone who’s against him is in danger.”

“You’re not in danger, Y/N,” he repeated. “We’re in this together, please, love,” he begged you, tears running down his face.

“We’re not on the same side, Draco,” you whispered.

“I thought you didn’t like to pick sides,” he said like he was trying to make you change your mind.

“We’re talking about a war, Draco, not a fucking fight in the courtyard,” you said and shook your head. “Just… leave me alone, please,” you asked him and started to walk away.

“Y/N, please!” he grabbed your wrist but you pulled away immediately.

“Don’t touch me ever again, Draco Malfoy,” you said in hatred, giving him a disgusted look before leaving him alone in the Astronomy Tower – alone, hurt and crying. He saw the disgust in your eyes, the hate and the fear.

Hard times came for you – you decided to act like nothing was happening, like you had no idea what Draco was and a part of you felt miserable for doing so, but other part was believing him, the other part was still loving him and it was hurting to see him and not run in his arms. You decided to let the time pass and decide what would happen with everything – but the time was cruel, because nothing good happened since that night. Dumbledore’s death, the Death Eaters, the continuing agony. You became scared to stay alone, thinking that a Death Eater or even Voldemort would show up and kill you – and Draco wouldn’t be there to protect you.

But when the real battle began, you felt all the adrenaline rushing through your body – Professor McGonagall seemed worried but she gave you the power to fight back, to fight for Hogwarts, for your friends, for Harry, for life. You never tried to spell hexes because it wasn’t necessary, but in the battles you had with some Death Eaters you remembered them all – and you casted them loud, pointing your wand in their direction with hatred. You were running on the same old stairs that led you to the Astronomy Tower, a loud and crazy laugh following you along with a curly hair and dark, mad eyes, thirsty for blood.

“Stop running, little doll!” she screamed when you got up, waiting for her with your wand ready, something that made her laugh. “Stubborn one, aren’t you?” she asked and walked closer to you with tangled steps.

“Crazy one, aren’t you?” you managed to gather your nerve to ask her. She didn’t seem too happy with your comment, because she lifted her wand – before she’d say anything, you screamed the Disarming Charm as loud as you could, making her wand fly from her hand and fall to the ground.

“Well, well,” she laughed, running her tongue over her bloody lips. “You won, now kill me!” she laughed, the sound driving you crazy.

“Shut up! Just shut up!”

“Kill me!”

“Crucio!” you screamed and the green light flashed from the tip of your wand, hitting Bellatrix Lestrange in the middle of her chest. She fell to the ground, laughing – it was hurting, but Bellatrix have been insane for a long, long time.

“Y/N!”

“Draco?” you said to yourself, watching the boy you loved running to you. He grabbed your shoulders, looking at you from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

You looked at Bellatrix who was still to the ground, and you tighten your fingers around the wand.

“No,” you said and looked back to Draco. He seemed fine and a part of you wanted to scream that he was fine because he was one of them, they wouldn’t hurt him like that crazy woman tried to do to you, but the other part won that battle. You hugged him tight, wanting to make all the things disappear and be just you and him. “I’m scared, Draco,” you whispered.

“You’ll be fine, love,” he said and kissed your temple.

“So she’s the little doll that got you all soft, Draco?”

The fear ran through your body again and you pulled away from Draco, still holding his hands.

“Please,” he said and looked at the crazy woman who got her wand back. He let go of your hand and grabbed his wand, pointing it to her.

“Aw, Draco darling,” she laughed, “Does Cissy know that you’re pointing your want to your family?”Family?

“Aunt Bella, please, don’t hurt her,” Draco breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of her.

“But she hurt me, Draco,” Bellatrix laughed, got her wand in your direction and casted an unspoken spell, only saying your name.

Draco tried to protect you, getting in front of you, but the purple light went through him and entered your body. The pain was indescribable, like all your internal organs were stabbed with hundred of knives. “No!” he screamed at his aunt, who only laughed louder and waved him goodbye before disappearing into a black cloud of smoke.

You’d feel your members go numb, dropping your wand and falling to the ground, making Draco to scream again like he could physically feel your agony. “Y/N!” he screamed.

Some balls of light were thrown in the tower’s direction, by the people outside, and they made the windows in the roof break, falling upon you along with pieces of tiles. Your sight went blurry, seeing Draco through red spots. “What’s happening, Draco?” you managed to ask him.

“You’re fine, my love,” he cried, tightening your shoulders, trying to hug you without hurting you.

“I can’t see you, hear you,” you cried and coughed; he started to sob even harder, watching the blood drop from your eyes and mouth as you tried to breathe. “I don’t feel very good,” you told him as it weren’t obvious.

“You’ll be alright, my love, stay with me,” he begged you.

His tears were falling on your face, mixing with the blood that was leaving your body – Bellatrix Lestrange chose a curse that gave you a slow and painful death.

“Hey, you,” you said, trying to make him pay attention to you. You looked him in the eyes, trying hard to see them clear. “Don’t you think it’s kinda cute?”

“What?” he whispered.

“Don’t you think it’s kinda cute,” you repeated, “That I died right inside your arms tonight?”

“No! No! No!” he said, his voice shaking. “Don’t you dare to do this to me, Y/N! Do you hear me? Stay with me!”

But you were gone – you left that world with a little smile on your lips, with bloody tears on your face and with the memory of his eyes watching you, of his arms holding you. And that made death a less painful thing for you.

That I'm fine even after I have died / Because it was in your arms I died

“No, Y/N!” he screamed, realizing you were gone. “Come back! Come back, Y/N, you own me one!”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you whispered while watching him from behind – you could also see your lifeless body, laying on the ground with glass pieces, rocks and blood all over it and it made you cry. You floated over your body and tried the stupidest thing you could think of: going back inside. But it was impossible – it felt like it was locked. Bloody tears were falling from your eyes, and you damned Bellatrix Lestrange for giving you such an ugly death: you’ll cry blood for eternity on the Hogwarts’ halls as a ghost. “I want to come back, Draco!” you screamed at the same time when he asked you to come back.

I cry in the afterlife / I cry hard because I have died / And you're alive / I try to escape the afterlife / I try hard to get back inside / Your arms tonight

The battle was over: Lord Voldemort was now dead, Bellatrix Lestrange was dead along with other Death Eaters, but so were a lot of innocent people: now, some students would stay forever in the castle because they chose to remain behind; they, just like you, were too scared of death and chose an imitation of life. As a ghost, you didn’t really felt like showing to everyone; it hurt you enough to know they missed you, and to see their broken souls when they’d realize you’re trapped in this world as a ghost would be more painful than your death. You knew nothing about Draco for a long time – you stayed in the tower all the time, and you already knew that after some years, when the school would be rebuilt, the little kids would call you the ghost of the Astronomy Tower – that thought made you smile; maybe they’d call you Bloody Y/N, or Bloody Crybaby Y/N, or… whatever name would fit a blood-crying ghost. That’s how you spent many months – thinking, crying, whishing you’d have chose the death.

A loud cry woke you up one day – you looked over to the balustrade, where a tall figure was shaking while looking down, down all the way to the ground. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said and you recognized him easily. “I’m so fucking sorry, my love,” he cried again and you approached him. On the ground, at his feet, was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums – they made your eyes tear up immediately.

“I promised you I’d protect you and I failed,” he whispered. “I hate myself since that day, my love,” he confessed.

To let him know about your presence was a bad idea – he’d be devastated to see you that way.

“I’ll see you soon, love,” he spoke to himself, or so he thought because he jumped in surprise when you screamed.

“Wait!”

“Y/N…” he cried, now facing you and crying harder. “You’re… alive?”

“Draco…” you sighed, “What are you doing here?”

He came closer and tried to hug you, but his arms went through you with ease. “You’re… a ghost.”

“Please don’t jump,” you said crying harder than him. It was a horrible image, indeed, to see a blood-crying ghost – but he was in love with you.

“I miss you, Y/N, I want to be with you,” he told you like he asked for permission.

But you shook your head in disapproval. “You won’t like it here, darling,” you smiled. “Please, stay – be happy and live.”

“I love you, Y/N, how could I live without you?” he cried like a little child, helpless.

You pointed to the flowers. “If your love is devoted, you’d spend the rest of your life fulfilling my wish, Draco.”

“Y/N…”

“Stay alive, Draco. I’ll be here, always,” you promised and cried.

He ran his hands through his hair, his blue eyes crying you a river. When he calmed down, he bent over and grabbed the flowers, handing them to you. You cried in pain, but still tried to get them – and you where surprised when you could.

“Come back to me, Y/N,” he said and you tried your best to make his wish come true. You tried to hug him, to kiss his forehead – he could swear he felt your cold skin on his.

“I wish I could, my love,” you said and stayed in front of him, with the sign of his devoted love in your hand.

And hey (hey), you (you), don't you think it's kinda cute / That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife / That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive / That I died in your arms

#vogueweasley3k #draco malfoy x reader #ravenclaw reader #draco x y/n #slowburn #angst #arms tonite #draco x you #hogwarts #astronomy tower #tw death #tw blood #tw mature languge

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hwallout · 4 years ago

Text

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.

Almost.

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands. Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•°

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

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pathos-logical · 5 years ago

Text

One Picture, a Thousand Words

Roman is a wonder that cannot be put to words, Logan a marvel that ink cannot capture. They try anyway.

Hoo, this sure was a labor of love! Love because I love @bleepblopbloop56 with all my heart and labor because HOLY HECK WAS THIS HARD TO WRITE. But never mind any of that, because HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my friend!!! I absolutely adore you, and I hope your year is as fantastic as you are!!!

Trigger warnings: Food mention; a joking mention of hallucinations. I think that’s it, but please tell me if I need to add something!!

There are a thousand words Logan could use to describe Roman. He would pull a Shakespeare and invent a thousand more if it meant finding a word that could accurately chronicle the tapestry of Roman, all colorful patches and carefully stitched seams. But Logan is no artist, and his words seem an inadequate medium.

Beautiful, he thinks and immediately discards. That is too obvious, the truth of it plain to see. Lovely is- better. More intimate. But too soft, perhaps, for Roman’s flame-edged hair, the bronze of his skin and the steel in his spine.

He has tried countless words, none of them quite right. Larger-than-life. (And no, his charisma and magnetic smile absolutely did not excuse the way he didn’t seem to know how to shut up.) Captivating. (Roman did have a way with words, when he wasn’t being an idiot.) Extraordinary. (He was quite the artist and actor.) Brilliant. (Again, Roman was rather intelligent when it came down to it.) Perfect. (Technically impossible. But.)

All those words he longs to say, not one spoken aloud.

(Or- once. Alone in his room, he had tried the shape of mine on his mouth, thought about how it tasted on his lips and imagined the look in Roman’s eyes if he ever dared to say it in front of him. Once, and never again.)

Oh, he wishes. But Logan has always been better with words on the page than to other people.

Well, he thinks, looking down at the piece of paper in his hands, I suppose that’s what this is for. His eyes rove over the paper, skimming over phrases without really taking them in. If he reads it he’ll try to fix it, and at this point there’s too much of his heart in the words for him to change them.

He looks at the last paragraph. It’s the kind of declaration he sneers at in the romance novels Roman so adores, the kind of thing he would’ve sneered at barely years ago. But Roman always did have a way of making him question things he’d taken for postulates- himself included.

I tried, over the course of this letter, to pin down what exactly about you has drawn me so irrevocably into your orbit and left me floundering in unfamiliar space. However, as the length of this might indicate, I soon discovered that I could not.

You know me. It is very rare that I find myself lost for words. But I find myself unable to find the correct words to describe you, or even the correct words. Not because I have run out of things to say, or even because you have left me speechless, but because I could use a whole dictionary of love letters and fail to find the words that capture the way your eyes shine in the light when you laugh at your own jokes, and all the cliches in the world cannot express how I feel about every mundane, breathtaking thing about you.

But despite all that, I have three words for you, Roman, and I suppose there is no better day to deliver them than today (as of the day you receive this, at least).

I love you.

Roman has a sketchbook no one but him has ever seen.

The drawings are all in pencil, and Roman aches to paint them, to mix his colors until he finds shades that will truly bring them to life. But Logan is a peculiar kind of monochrome, with his navy hair and black polo shirts and countless blue ties, and Roman fears that no amount of paint could do that justice.

It’s undeniable that the warm brown of Logan’s eyes is a color he itches to find in a colored pencil, that the almond of his skin is one he longs to see redden at his touch. But those aren’t the things he really wants to capture when he puts pencil to paper anyway. No, when he draws Logan, his focus is on the subtle gleam that comes to his eyes when he speaks about something he’s passionate about, the curl of his lips when his emotionless facade breaks at some stupid comment Roman made.

Roman wishes he could show Logan the notebook, sometimes, the days when his longing overpowers his surety in the fact that it could never be reciprocated. He imagines coffee-colored eyes looking through the pages with delight, taking in the devotion clear in the meticulous lines. He pictures the hands he’s spent hours perfecting skimming over paper, taking care not to smudge the lead.

(He sees disgust settling in the curve of Logan’s lips and rejection showing in the set of his shoulders, and he pushes away the thought and hides his notebook under his pillow, pretends that he hasn’t memorized the shape of Logan’s smile.)

But he doesn’t think of any of that today. It’s Valentine’s Day, and Roman is dressed for it. He dons his armor that he definitely did not spend a whole two hours deliberating on and sets out the door armed with a kind of desperate false bravado, which is immediately undermined by how he jumps at his roommate Patton’s encouraging “go get ‘im, tiger!” shouted through the walls.

Still scowling at the door behind him, Roman briefly debates how desperate a text will make him sound before deciding, screw it.

Hey, we still on for lunch at Cream of the Cup?

The reply is prompt, as always, and Roman makes a futile attempt at smothering the smile he knows is blossoming across his lips.

>> Of course.

I’ll see you then!

Roman can so do this.

Virgil I can’t do this

>> why not?? youve been planning this for weeks, youll bbe fine

actually, knowing you, orobably months

Jfkdkfkfkfk

it’s

LOGAN

>> im aware, weve only veen best friends for years now

…

if yoy send a long rambling text ahout how wonderful logan is and how you dont deserve hkm im gonna lose it

roman i swear to god

HE’S JUST SO SMART AND AMAZING AND I’M JUST ME I DON’T DESERVE HIM AND WHAT IF I SCREW THINGS UP BETWEEN US FOREVER AND HE HATES ME OR WHAT IF IT’S AWKWARD I’M OKAY WITH JUST BEING FRIENDS REALLY HE PROBABLY DOESN’T EVEN LIKE ME THAT WAY ANYWAY I MEAN WHY WOULD HE

Whoops sorry

>> youre not

I’m not

But

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

>> okay roman, listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once.

first of all, cut it with the self-deprecating crap. one, that’s my thing. and two, I WILL pull a patton and fight you.

stop doubting yourself, it doesn’t suit you

I might not have known you as long as I’ve known logan, but I know

I can see you typing. shut up.

maybe I haven’t known you as long as I’ve known Logan, but I do know you’re a good guy, and you /clearly/ love him

KSKFKFKKFKGD W H A T

>> yes, everyone knows, no, Logan does not, LET ME FINISH

it means a LOT to him that you actually read the articles he sends you about mars rovers at 3 am and that you don’t tell him he’s annoying for infodumping about alpha centauri or whatever star system he’s planning to go to and that you deal with his hypocrisy about sleep schedules and his general inability to do emotions

also, knowing him for years means I know his type, and trust me, you’re it

and even if by some miracle he doesn’t like you back, you guys are too close to ruin your friendship. okay? so however this ends, I promise you’ll still be friends

>> But

ROMAN

listen, you don’t tune him out when he starts babbling, and he does the same for you. he loves listening to your rants about art theory, he goes to every single one of your shows, and he started learning Spanish just to impress you. yes, he’s learned more phrases than just insults, he’s just been hiding it so he can surprise (aka impress) you later

and roman? he really really does value your friendship. you know that we’ve known each other since forever, so you know I mean it when I say that I’ve NEVER seen him get so close to someone this quickly.

and… you’ve been good for him too, okay? he’s not really the type to get lonely, but that’s just because he gets so tied up in his giant brain he forgets there are people in the outside world to talk to. but it really is important to him that you’re always there for him, and… I can tell you right now that he’s told me how much he appreciates you for it

after all that? I’d say he loves you too, dude. go for it.

you can talk now

Holy heck you DO love me

>> eh

Holy HECK

Wait

Did you turn on autocorrect just to yell at me???

>> Only for you, babe.

Please never do that again

yeaj that was oncredibly unconfortable

now GO GET YOUR MAN

Roman, for all his theatrics about love at first sight and true love’s kiss, hadn’t mentioned Valentine’s Day plans once in the weeks leading up to it. Then, exactly one week ago, he’d texted Logan with a simple request to meet up at a nearby cafe. Logan knew him too well to miss the possible connotations of such an invitation. But it was entirely possible that this was merely meant to be an outing between two friends. A platonic outing.

A platonic outing where there was barely room to stand, forget sit. Logan curses under his breath. He’d decided for once to not show up fifteen minutes early, as that would only give him more time to second-guess himself, especially as Roman was notorious for being chronically late. But he had failed to account for the obvious fact that, it being both a Saturday and Valentine’s Day, the usually quiet cafe is filled to the brim with couples ordering the heart-themed specials and kissing and generally clogging the air with sweet words and PDA. And no, Logan is not irrationally annoyed about this, he’s just worried he won’t be able to secure an empty table for him and Roman.

But just as the thought crosses his mind, he catches a familiar head of fiery hair at a table against the wall, bent over his phone and apparently completely absorbed by whatever he was looking at. An incredulous “Roman?” slips from his lips unbidden, because- well, Roman had once nearly been late to the first show he was the lead in. But there he was, reserving a table at exactly 12:30 with a croissant in front of him. Maybe today really was a day for miracles.

He watches with amusement as Roman jumps and looks up at the sound of his name. His face lights up as soon as he registers who it is, and Logan abruptly goes from amused to filled with some kind of fluttery warmth he doesn’t want to quantify.

“Logan!” Roman exclaims, hurriedly tucking his phone away. “Hey! How are you?” His smile beams out like the sun, but it dims upon Logan’s next words.

“Not well, unfortunately,” Logan informs him gravely. “I fear I have been having severe auditory and visual hallucinations. For example, I am currently experiencing one so vivid that I believe I am conversing with a friend in a cafe when I know that there is no chance of him being here yet.” Maybe Logan should feel bad about the way Roman’s expression morphs from worry to alarm to overblown outrage, but the challenging gleam in his eyes arrests him as surely as that of of Roman’s heart-shaped studs, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

“Hey, I’m not always late!” he protests so loudly several patrons turn to look at him, perhaps expecting a scene.

Logan can’t help the smirk that creeps across his face as he slides into the seat opposite Roman, surreptitiously tucking a navy blue folder besides him. Thank goodness for Roman being typically Roman and reserving a booth that could seat six for a party of two. “Roman. Once Virgil and I deliberately told you to meet up an hour after we were actually supposed to meet so that when you inevitably showed up late, it would only be by five minutes rather than fifty. And the very idea that you could be on time for something went so flagrantly against the laws of the universe that the universe struck back by making your car break down, and you missed the meeting entirely.”

“Is that what happened?” Roman asks, looking so genuinely gobsmacked that Logan can’t help the snicker that escapes him. Roman’s expression flips to one of self-satisfaction, and Logan tries to ignore the little burst of fondness in his chest at the sight. Even if the rest of today goes horribly, at least he can savor this easy banter between them.

And banter they do, debating over whether Logan’s physics professor or Roman’s marketing professor is more inept before commiserating over the “perpetual hell week” that is college. They bounce from the disappointing latest installment of one of Roman’s favorite series to a terrible documentary on aliens Logan had found on a “science” channel (“It’s called a having a basic grasp of eighth-grade geometry, Roman- which, unlike this nine-thousand year old civilization, these morons have clearly never achieved!”) to every little thing in between, their food forgotten in front of them.

It’s nothing special, technically- they’ve been friends for years now, and they often have talks about everything and nothing. But today Logan can convince himself that an electric current is charging the air between them, flushing Roman’s cheeks and lighting up his eyes as Logan is drawn in, helpless against his magnetism.

There’s no decisive moment where Logan thinks, this is it. There’s just Roman, his laughter like bells in the breeze, and Logan, gazing at him like he’d put the stars in the sky.

“Roman,” he says. That’s it- Roman.

Roman is still giggling at his rendition of the student who’d spilled their coffee on the drama professor on the first day, but he sobers at whatever look is on Logan’s face. “Hey- you good, Lo?”

The nickname catches at something in Logan’s chest, pulls it open so the next words come just a little harder, just a little easier. “Roman,” he says again, looking down. “I do not wish to… ruin the mood, but I have something to confess.”

(He’s looking down, so he misses the way Roman jumps at the last word.)

But when he meets Roman’s eyes, open and curious, Logan’s confidence abandons him. He exhales slowly in an attempt to regain some of the feeling from before, like the memory of Roman’s voice will fortify his. But all that comes out is: “I wrote- would you-”

Logan’s throat fails him entirely, something a little like dread and a little like hope clogging it up. Without another word, he slides the folder he had kept tucked at his side to Roman. When Roman raises a curious eyebrow, Logan simply smiles- a quick, brittle thing- and motions for him to open it.

Earlier, the noise in the cafe had distracted Logan, had made him frown when it rose over Roman’s voice. But suddenly it all fades into the background, the chatter of voices and clatter of spoons receding in favor of the thwip of the folder opening, the little breath Roman takes when he reads the first two words.

Dimly, Logan thinks he must have used up all his words in the letter. His fingers lay still at his sides, mind is utterly blank as he watches Roman read it. But his heart is pounding loud enough that for an absurd second, he’s sure Roman can hear it in the sudden quiet.

Logan waits for a minute, maybe five. He thinks he’d wait for Roman forever if he asked. But Roman doesn’t make him wait that long, because when he looks up his eyes are wet with tears, and when Logan uselessly opens his mouth- to do what? His voice certainly hasn’t returned- Roman lurches forward, clumsy in a way Logan has never known him, and seals their lips with a kiss.

And when they finally draw apart, Logan thinks he’s regained his words (or maybe just these three), because they force themselves out of his lips like they’ve been waiting to do so since Logan said Roman’s name. And Roman, his face a study in the kind of shock and delight that can only come from a thought-to-be-hopeless dream coming true, returns them.

#logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #my writing #a whole dictionary of love letters

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dirtydobrik · 5 years ago

Text

last kiss - d.d.

plot: you and david are dating and you get a job in australia and have to leave for six months. you and david both don’t want to break up but the distance eventually becomes too much and you have to end things

requested: yes! omggg can u pls do an imagine based on the song last kiss by taylor swift and it’s just really angsty? i always imagine if David was to ever break up with someone again it would really destroy him bc of how hard his break up with Liza was, and he would be like crying holding you begging you to stay and work things out even though you both know it can’t work out for the time being, idk maybe y/n is moving countries and living really far like in Australia for work for six months or something

author’s note: hi! this piece is all over the place, im sorry. i didn’t have time to edit this, so sorry in advance if there are typos. this was requested anonymously so hopefully it was something similar to what you wanted.

if you want to send in a request for an imagine, send me a message! i am super behind on requests right now but i have a few pieces in progress that i am working on. i am hopefully back to posting daily as i am trying to get caught up.

word count: 1415

masterlist

"You're unbelievable. Absolutely fucking unbelievable!" David shouted, slamming the white ceramic plate he was holding against the counter top. But you didn't even flinch.

"I'm allowed to make my own decisions!" You shouted back. You could tell David was on the verge of tears.

"You can't just accept a job in Australia without even talking to me about it! We live together for God's sake. I should have had a say in this decision!" David was angry. He was angry that you kept it a secret for so long and he was angry that you were leaving.

"It's not your decision to make! My life doesn’t revolve around you!" You yelled, instantly regretting the harsh words you just said to your boyfriend. David felt his heart shatter with those words. "David, I didn't mean that," you spoke softly, but there was an emptiness in David's eyes and you knew he didn't want to hear your apologies.

“Your life shouldn't have to revolve around me for you to talk to me about a new job before agreeing to it."

"David, I'll only be gone for six months," you argued.

"I can't leave the fucking country!" David shouted, tears spilling out of his eyes now. The moonlight crept in through the kitchen window, illuminating his glossy red eyes.

"Dave," you sighed, your heart aching. "I'm sorry. I know I should've talked to you about this before I took the job. But I thought you'd be happy for me. I thought everything would be okay between us," you rambled, but David didn't want to fight anymore, so he just stopped talking. And he stopped listening to whatever bullshit you were saying to try to save yourself. But it was too late. David was done.

He grabbed a duffle bag from his closet and started throwing random items of clothes into it. He didn’t care what he had, he just needed to get out of the house. Grabbing his keys, David ignored the begging and pleading from you to stay and talk it out. He sprinted out to the garage, tossed his bag in the backseat, and broke down in tears in the driver's seat. David didn’t know where to go, knowing that anywhere he went, he would be easily found by you. You two had spent the last two years together, there was practically nothing you didn't know about him. David threw his cellphone onto the passenger seat, and started the car. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed to get away.

David drove around aimlessly, just trying to clear his mind. He didn't know where to go or who to talk to. Everyone knew the two of you as this perfect couple and he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you made a life changing decision without even considering him or their relationship.

And it wasn't like you had taken a job in Chicago or New York or Boston or any other US city. Of course, he'd be mad if you had done that, but at least he'd be able to visit you. He couldn’t just book a flight to Australia and that's what hurt the most.

The sun was rising when David drove home. You were waiting up for him, desperately needing to talk. Sitting on the couch in one of his clickbait hoodie, you heard the front door swing open and immediately stood up to see David. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was a mess. He looked tired and emotionless.

"Can we talk? Please?" you begged when he walked through the door. David sighed, but agreed, walking over to the couch and sitting next to you. "David, I'm so sorry. But it's only temporary. I'll be home before you know it and everything will be okay."

"We can't just put our relationship on hold for six months! And God, you know better than anyone that long distance relationships don't work out!" You froze. You couldn’t believe he was bringing up your past. "I mean, didn’t you say your move out to LA only temporary? You've been here for three fucking years. What's stopping you from moving to Australia forever?"

"You are!" you shouted.

"Oh, really? Is that the same thing your told your ex-boyfriend in New York before you moved out here? Look how that turned out," David scoffed and you felt sick to your stomach.

"Dave, what you and I have is nothing like what my ex and I had. I promise that I'll be coming back to you." You looked at David, your eyes soft. "Six months, tops," you promised, and David sighed.

"I don't want you to leave."

"I know, bub. But I need to take this, it's huge for career." David understood that, he just didn't think you'd ever have to leave him for work. As much as it hurt him, he wasn't ready to let go of you.

A few weeks later, all of your bags were packed and loaded into the trunk of David's Tesla. You had said your goodbyes to your friends last night, all of them promising to come out and visit you at some point, which only made David's heart ache more. He was trying to keep it together, but he knew that you two wouldn’t last, not with you being so far away and with him not being able to ever visit you.

The drive to the airport was filled with awkward silence and tension, both of you knowing what was coming but neither of you wanting to be the first to say it.

"Do you really have to go?" David asked, as you stood on the sidewalk outside the terminal. His eyes were watering and you quickly turned your head so he wouldn’t see your red eyes.

You swallowed and gave him a nod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to talk without breaking down.

"Please stay," he begged, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. Watching him cry made you cry. "I don't want to lose you."

"You aren’t losing me, Dave," you tried to reassure him, although neither of you were believing it. "Six months, tops. Remember?"

David choked out a sob and you instinctively wrapped your arms around his and rested your head on his chest. He begged you to stay and repeatedly said that things between you two would be okay. You weren't sure if he was trying to convince you or him, it was probably the both of you.

You gave him one last kiss before taking your bags and walking away.

Trying to do long distance lasted about three weeks before it was too hard. You two were putting too much pressure on your relationship and trying to maintain it that it was unhealthy for the both of you. It was your idea to officially end things. You called him up in the middle of the night, although it was the middle of the day for David, and said you should break up. You told him that you still loved him and that you always would, but that it was too hard. You told him that you'd thought about it a lot and that it was too hard and too draining.

David's heart shattered with that phone call. He should have been expecting it, but he didn’t think it would come so quickly.

Breakups were hard, and David wasn't handling it well. He had now lost another person he loved and absolutely destroyed him. He couldn’t believe you had really left and he was questioning every part of your relationship. He couldn’t understand why you'd leave if you loved him. He had pictured himself marrying you and now you were gone.

It crushed him to see the pictures you posted from Australia and to see your friends visiting and raving to him when they came back. He couldn’t even bring himself to talk to you himself, he'd have mutual friends tell him about you, just to let him know that you were okay.

He wondered if you missed him as much as he missed you. It hurt David like hell to know that you were able to leave him with a broken heart, especially after everything he had told you about his breakup with Liza. He wanted you to change your mind and come back to him, but that didn't happen.

He never thought you two would have a last kiss, and it left him heartbroken when he realized you did.

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years ago

Text

The Breakfast Club

Chapter Seven

TRR AU

Summary: Things get very heated in the library and between two of the teens. Some major fluff.

Warning: Drugs are mentioned.

Word count: 2417

Characters belong to Pixelberry. Library plot and much of the spoken dialogue written by John Hughes/A&M Films. Everything else is mine.

*please let me know if you want untagged from this story. I promise I won't mind 😊

Drake sits on the railing leading up to the second level of the library, deep in thought.

He hops down, still feeling the effects of his liquor filled breakfast. "You know what we should do? Close that door.... I've gotta a bottle of whiskey", he pulls it out of his pants and shakes it in the air.

Maxwell perks up and feels an instant rush of energy, "yeah, I'm always down for booze and a party, count me in."

Liam frustrated with Drake and life in general right now wants no part of this, "Come on guys, Vernon said to keep the door open."

Drake scoffs, "so what?"

Liam turns to face him, "so, there's four other people in here who don't want to piss him off and then we all have to deal with my father."

"A prince who can count...aren't you special" Drake says sarcastically.

Liam slams his hands on the table before him and looks at Drake, "Who the hell are you to judge anyway?"

Olivia nods her head in agreement, "yeah!"

Drake methodically walks over to Olivia and leans down to face her, "remember what you told me yesterday, huh?....I'm a nothing...a nobody...I may as well not even exist in this world."

She scowls back at him flatly, "yeah....and I still stand by that."

Drake acts like it doesn't bother him, but, inside, the words fuel him further. He sets his sights elsewhere, walking toward the entrance doors of the library. He studies it briefly then begins messing with the screw that holds the door open.

Riley carefully watches him before sitting up in her seat, "hey, you're not supposed to be doing that."

The door slams shut and Drake runs back to his seat, "am I a genius or what?"

Olivia speaks up, "No, you're an asshole."

Liam begs Drake to fix the door, but, he ignores his pleas.

Out of no where, Vernon slams the door open, "Damn it, who shut that door?"

Olivia points to Drake, "he did it", she was not about to protect him.

Vernon doesn't act surprised, he scurries through the room and stands at the corner of Drake's table, holding out his hand "Give me that screw Walker."

"I don't have it", he says innocently.

"Give me the screw or I'll shake it outta ya."

"Screws fall out all of the time sir, why would I want to take it?"

Vernon can feel the fury increasing in his chest, "Beaumont...front and center!"

Maxwell quickly stands up and salutes him, "At your disposal, sir."

Vernon motions for him to follow as he walks to a wooden book shelf, "help me move this into the door."

Maxwell barely holds one end as Vernon grabs the other. As they begin moving it into place, Drake feigns concern about fire hazards; the shelf is blocking the door and children's lives could be endangered....he emphasizes the Prince could be put in danger.

Vernon trying to save face looks at a breathless Maxwell who is hunched over, "What's the matter with you Beaumont! What are you doing, huh? Move this back over there".

Maxwell stood there for a moment scratching his head, "I'm so confused, sir."

"Just move it back!", Vernon yelps.

Maxwell sighs then pushes the shelf back to its original place.

He immediately returns to his seat when Vernon addresses him again, "I expected better of a Beaumont."

Maxwell is stunned and looks over at Riley, still not sure of what he had done wrong.

Vernon eyes Drake and points at him, "the next screw that falls out is going to be you!"

Drake mumbles under his breath, "Eat my shorts."

"What was that Walker?", Vernon asks as he quickly spins around from his attempt to leave.

Drake glares at him, "Eat.My.Shorts."

Vernon replies, "You just earned another Saturday of guard duty."

"So?"

"There's another....you finished?"

"No"

"You just bought another one."

"I'm free the Saturday after that too."

"Not anymore.....just say the word...you through?"

"Not yet."

"Im doing Cordonia a favor...you want another one?"

"Yes!"

"You got it"

Olivia turns to him, now with actual concern, "Drake, cut it out...stop."

Vernon continues, "Now are you through?"

"Not even close, bud"

"Good, there's another one."

"Do you think I give a shit?"

"Another"

Drake glances up at him, "how many is that?"

Maxwell innocently speaks up, "That's seven Drake, including the one you got when you asked him if he raids Trumps closet."

Drake gives a knowing look to Maxwell, desperate for him to stay quiet.

"You're mine Walker...for the next two months I got you."

Drake rolls his eyes, "What can I say, I'm thrilled."

Vernon begins his stroll out of the room and turns just before exiting, "the next time I have to come back in, I'm cracking skulls."

Drake mouths the words silently as Vernon says them.

After the door closes, Drake yells out, "Fuck You!!"

****

At a quarter to 11 am, everyone is bored. Drake sips on his whiskey quietly at his table with one foot propped up, Olivia rifles through her purse, Maxwell is playing with his balls, Liam is playing with the draw string of his sweatshirt and Riley is wrapping hair around her finger until it turns purple.

A few minutes later...Drake has a lighter burning the rubber of his shoes, Maxwell is playing paper soccer and quietly celebrates his goal, and Riley is emptying a salt packet onto her new drawing.

Eventually, Riley starts singing to herself...I don't mean to brag but I be like put it in the bag.

Then Maxwell joins in while pointing at his head...you like my hair gee thanks just bought it.

Both Olivia and Drake yell at the same time, "shut up!"

Boredom becomes overwhelming and everyone in the room, including himself, is ready to choke the shit out of Drake. One by one, heads lower to the tables in front of them as they peacefully fall asleep.

At noon, Vernon comes in and yells for everyone to get up and asks if anyone needs a drink; they all raise their hands.

Drake volunteers to get them, however, Vernon shirks him and randomly chooses who he feels is the safest options. He points to Liam, then Riley; he instructs them to promptly go to the main kitchen to bring sodas back for everyone.

***

Riley and Liam walk in silence through the long and winding hallways of the palace. He was troubled by his father's actions this morning and the bruises on his face were throbbing reminders. He felt as if he was in a daze, each minute a dizzying fog of inevitable gloom. Drake's odd behavior in the library was only a temporary reprieve to refocus his thoughts elsewhere, but, now, it all rushes back without his distraction. His eyes are sunken and troubled, his expressions are flat, emotionless. Even when he corrected Drake, the words flowed out without energy or substance.

Riley hesitated to speak as she walked just a half step behind Liam. She could read him like he was a book about her own life. She has wore that face before, even if only seeing it from the side.

Before she can say anything, he quickly glances at her, with a hollow tone in his voice, "what happened to your eye?"

She ever so slightly turned her head away and toyed with the charm on her bracelet, yet, kept moving. She questioned to herself whether he was like his father, was he leading her into a one way conversation where she would be called a whore again?

Curious by her timid behavior, Liam slowed the pace he was walking and reached out to tap her arm, wanting to gain her attention. She flinched before he made contact and a distressed look played deep in her light brown eyes. He too, knew that particular look..it's the one you wear when you've been conditioned to expect the worst.

Keeping her head down, she slowly moved her eyes back to him, not fully meeting his gaze.

He needed her to face him, there was an unmistakable force inside that had to know if someone else in the world knew his sorrows....experienced his demons. He tilted her chin up and their eyes engaged for the first time. Both of them felt exposed in that moment, as if every thought, every painful memory, all the lonliness was out in the open....revealed through the effectual union of their eyes.

Her lips began quivering as two large tears fell rapidly down her cheeks, and with a low shaky voice, almost inaudible "my stepfather."

Her soul felt like the floodgates of hell had opened and she was purged and unequivocally free from her bondage.

She had never trusted anyone to tell her secret, but, somehow, in this moment, she felt safe.

Liam didn't know Riley, had only met her two hours ago, however, the urge to protect her suddenly weighed on him. He felt powerful...strengthened...fearless. Leo described that feeling to him, but, Liam never expected to experience it.

Riley reached up, brushed her thumb along his own facial bruises; he leaned into her touch with eyes closed. There was nothing in the world better than her touch; it sent a powerful charge through his entire body.

They were two broken souls, from opposite ends of society, who now feared only the absense of the other. Seemingly impossible and, yet, suddenly real.

He opened his eyes, turning to gently kiss the palm of her hand. With tears still streaming and a heart that was pounding thunderously, she carefully placed her free hand on the other side of his face and pulled him to her lips. He wasn't a Prince and she wasn't a commoner....it was just Liam and Riley.

_________________________

Drake is laying on top of a table in the library , while Maxwell and Olivia are still anxiously waiting in their seats.

"Man, where are those drinks at?", Maxwell was getting inpatient and fidgety.

Drake sits up and lets his legs dangle off the table behind Olivia, "Hey Liv...are you still a virgin?

Olivia jumps up and grabs Drake by the back of the neck and wrestles him to the floor, "I will kill you Walker, do you understand me?"

Drake laughs as Olivia has him in a behind the back arm lock. He makes an attempt to break free, however, he is still too inebriated to make a concerted effort.

Olivia shoves his head away and walks back to her seat.

Moments later, Drake pulls out his cell phone and scrolls for a particular picture he has saved, "Liv, you want to see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts...its pretty tasty."

Maxwell tries to sneak a peak at this picture, while Olivia forces herself to ignore him.

Drake jumps down from his table and walks to the doors, he steadily opens it enough to see that Vernon is no longer at his desk and peaks out into the hallway. He shuts the door and turns to Maxwell and Olivia, "anybody up for taking a stroll in the halls...I need to get something."

As much as Olivia has had it with Drake, she wants to get out of that library more; she couldn't explain it, but, she trusted Drake was stealthy enough they wouldn't get caught.

She and Maxwell follow Drake out. Olivia is keeping pace with him, "how do you know we won't get caught?"

He simply replies, "I don't"

Maxwell whispers to her, "where are we going?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "Beats me".

"Well...what if we get caught?"

"I suppose we'll get in trouble."

"But, what..."

Olivia grabs Maxwell by the collar, "If you don't stop asking questions, Im going to beat the living shit out of you."

Maxwell raises his hands up in defense, "sorry".

Bastien's quarters are not too far from the library, Drake has a small bedroom within it.

As the trio enter Drake's bedroom, Olivia looks around in disgust, pinching her nose, the room was in complete disarray, "Slob".

"Yeah, well my maids on vacation", he replies while stepping through a pile of clothing scattered along his path.

Drake reaches up on the top shelf his closet and pulls down a small bag of marijuana and rolling papers.

Maxwell's eye's widen in surprise as he looks to Olivia to say something, but, she doesn't.

Drake lays his items on the desk and begins to prepare crafting a joint, "I actually haven't done this before."

Olivia slides next to him, carefully watching his hands, "Then why do you have it?"

He chuckles at her, "I was saving it for a rainy day."

She rolls her eyes, but, snickers with him

Maxwell watching this, clears his throat and huddles down between them, "watch out, let me do this." Maxwell is steadfast and makes quick work of his rolling efforts, "Ta-da, she's a beaut." He leans over and starts rolling a second one.

Drake yanks the first one from his hands and inspects Maxwell's work, "that's not half bad Beaumont."

Maxwell give him a coy look and a shrug, "Not my first time".

Olivia looks at Drake with an eyebrow raised, "now what?"

Drake places the joints back in the baggie and shoves it into the front of Maxwell's pants, "Go back to the library...Bas will kill me if he smells that in here."

They quietly make their way back through the halls, trying to be as quiet as possible. Just as they round the corner leading to the library, Vernon steps out of his office.

----------

Liam and Riley pull away from their kiss. It had been slow, gentle and tender; it left them both feeling breathless. Riley bites her bottom lip, still staring up at him, searching his eyes again.

This was his first kiss and he is beaming; it felt as if the earth had temporarily stopped moving. He is thrilled, but, nervous and doesn't know what to do next. He takes a finger and taps her nose with an awkward grin. Riley taps his nose right back as she lets out a light giggle.

As if instinct kicks in, he wrap his arms around her waist and pulls her close to his body, resting his chin on top of her head. The hair was so soft that he couldn't help but rub his cheek along it. They held each other close, both communicating with one another through touch and embrace.

He lightly kissed her forehead, inhaled her rose petal scent, then met her soft lips again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in closer. Liam reached up and grabbed her hand, laced his fingers through hers and held it to his heart. Constantine, his duties, his bleak life...no longer existed. When the kiss ended, he whispers softly in her ear, "Riley, you're so pretty."

@missameliep @ao719 @dcbbw @carabeth @romanticatheart-posts @emceesynonymroll @drakensword @jemrmax2love @pedudley @moneyfordiamonds @katedrakeohd @sirbeepsalot @kingliam2019 @thisperfectmemory @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @stopforamoment @silversparrow02 @choiceslife @timmagicktoad @lodberg @burnsoslow @gnatbrain @lovemychoices @hopefulmoonobject

#choices trr #the royal romance #trr liam #trr fanfic #trr drake #maxwell beaumont #trr #liam x riley #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #liam x mc

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bloody-delicious · 6 years ago

Note

Hey I loved your fic with Buhguul and a stressed reader. Can I please ask for the same but instead it would be with how Patrick Bateman or Harry Warden would care for a reader?

thank you! 💕

(also im sorry these took so long-im afraid their quality doesnt make up for it lol, i hope these are okay)

patrick bateman x stressed s/o

you had been sitting there for what felt like, and, in all probability, most likely was, hours. patrick’s usual spotless living room was now in disarray, folders and papers with scribbled unintelligible shorthand and crude sketches littered everywhere, with you, a picture of haggard exhaustion, eyes drooped with dark circles and painted with red lines that displayed your dilapidated state of being for all to see, positioned in the center of the chaos. body slouched over the heap of work before you, the crinkle of papers was the only sound audible in the empty space, besides that of the gentle hum of the new york city’s night life beginning to emerge from the shadows for a period of lawless play, sin hidden from the eyes of the exposing rays of daylight as the sun dipped below the crimson skyline.

you knew that you would eventually have to surrender to your aching body and clean up the mess you had made, as patrick would be home soon, and you knew that the sight of his apartment in such disorder would not spur a pleasant reaction. not wishing to flirt with such a dangerous notion, you decided that you should return the space to its original immaculate state sooner rather than later. with a heavy sigh, you picked yourself up from the floor, bones cracking and muscles stretching with a stab of pain, resisting the sudden movement. one by one, the work is picked up from the floor with aching hands, stuffed into their according folders, and though the incessant work disappears from sight, it lingers in your head like a throbbing tumor, keeping you from enjoying any moment of real peace. the folders are placed lazily on the coffee table, and you slump to your previous position on the floor, eyes glazed and staring at the now organized stack of unfinished papers.

even when the shuffling outside the door becomes audible and the sound of keys fitting into the lock reaches your ears, the door opening and the sound of tom ford oxford loafers stepping into the apartment pierces your silence, you remain in your trance, all of your senses numbed by your prostrated condition. heels clicked sharply on the floor, patrick walking further into the room, his sense of authority almost materializing as a tangible presence, his cold and almost foreboding demeanor suffocating the air. your partner was a powerful man, and though you were well aware of the threat he posed at all times, you had grown used to his degenerated mien, and became accustomed to his constant attitude of superiority, the perverted manner with which he held himself.

“what are you doing, y/n?”

patricks voice sounded peculiar, more peculiar than his normal tone. the facade of the typical upper class businessman had not yet faded away, his voice still carrying the faux sincerity that every yuppie in the entire state spoke with.

“work,” you mumbled, rubbing your inflamed eyes with weary hands.

“what did you say? i cant hear you when you mumble.”

his voice developed a more sinister undertone, a threatening connotation that you knew was not to be provoked further.

“work,” you repeated, this time fully articulating yourself. you didnt look over at him, head still resting in your palms.

your heard the heels begin to click across the floor again, increasing in sound as the man made his way over to you. you felt him sit on the couch behind you, body stiff, tense, like a predator ready to claim its prey. he was always like this. you had no idea how he maintained such a defensive state around the clock, how his mind could handles such endless rigidity. after a bit of an awkward silence, patricks hand finds its way to your hair, smoothing stray strands and feeling them on his skin. he continues to play with your locks, starting to almost pull on them, though it isnt to the point of pain. you sigh and try to relax your body, leaning back into his strong hands. his begins to pull harder on your hair, occasionally wrapping fistfuls in his palms, and small twinges of pain begin to take root in your scalp.

you say his name in an attempt to signal to him that hes hurting you, but he doesnt seem to hear, or he just doesnt listen. his hand wraps around your soft hair, suddenly gripping it and tugging on it with force. you let out a surprised cry and instinctively jump away, your hand going up to touch your head.

“patrick!” you scold, looking back at him. you can barely muster the energy to reprimand your lover, and youre sure that your words are not very intimidating, with obvious exhaustion laced in your voice and written on your face. patrick sits with his elbows resting on his knees, observing you with no expression. it appears that both of you are lost in your own little worlds.

“that hurt,” you say, hoping to reach him this time. nothing. he watches you still with emotionless eyes. the two of you sit in silence before he suddenly speaks.

“do you want to go out to dinner? wherever you want.”

his lips twist into a smile, but you do not reciprocate it.

“if you want to,” you sigh, knowing that trying to bring up the previous topic is useless. “im feeling really tired today. work is getting to me.”

there is another period of silence, and you see patricks face begin to change. it almost becomes darker, menacing.

“we could…do something else,” patrick suggests, his words practically dripping with a malicious nuance, immediately alerting you as to what he has in mind.

“no, patrick. you might like butchering people, but i dont. thats youre thing, not mine.”

patricks grin only grows wider at your words.

“whats the name of your boss again? i cant seem to remember.”

“no.”

“you said work was stressing you out, didnt you?”

“yes-“

“so let off a little steam, y/n, it’ll be a blast,” he interrupts, a wild look beginning to form in his eyes, excitement growing in his voice.

you let out a groan and turn away from him, putting your aching head back in your hands.

“im gonna call it a night, patrick.”

you gather yourself from the floor and attempt to leave the room, but a wrist grabs your hand with a tight grip, stopping you from going any further. you turn you gaze to patrick, who suddenly stands, bringing himself closer to you, his breath hot on your neck.

“dont you want to let off some steam, y/n?” his smile is wolfish and predatory, eyes locked in on his prey held firmly in his grasp. his free hand grazes the skin of your shoulder, his deviant intentions clear even through something as innocent as a slight touch. “you know i can make you feel better.”

his advances are appealing, but any activity with patrick is rather risky, and youd rather not wake up with the task of covering hickey after countless hickey, wrapping bite after bite, cleaning scratch after scratch. still, he is right in one aspect: you really do need to release some of the tension inside. his smooth, strong hand reaches your throat, gently caressing the skin before abruptly tightening his grasp, essentially choking you. you let out a startled gasp, and patrick only presses a rough kiss to your lips to silence you, teeth biting your lower lip. you begin to melt into his touch, knowing that youll be tired in the morning, knowing that it will be a rough night, knowing that god, you really do need this right now.

——————————

when you woke, it was still dark, your room illuminated only by the glow of the city outside the window. the sheets were tangled around your bare body, and, when you attempted to move, you felt the pangs of pain from the wounds given to you by patrick. eyes still heavy with sleep, you looked to your side to see him, still submerged in the bliss of sleep. when you looked closer, however, you noticed something odd covering his body. upon further inspection, you saw that your lover was painted with splatters of blood. panic rushing through your veins, you were about to wake him when you spotted something in your peripheral vision. laying before your bed was a body, surrounded by a pool of blood. slowly crawling over the bed to get a better view, you realized that the body was that of your boss. stab wounds littered his body, his striped suit tainted with a deep red pigment, eyes closed and blood trickling down his lips, his face pale as the moon in the midnight sky. you looked back to patrick, lying so peacefully in bed, covered in the blood of your (now former) boss. the man you had come to recognize as your partner seemed to have displayed the body before you as a gift, a sign of love, perhaps. his rather gruesome way of showing his devotion. you extended your hand to him, stroking his dark hair. you would deal with the consequences in the morning. the light would make everything clearer.

harry warden x stressed s/o

it was cold in valentine bluffs. winter was beginning to settle into the small town, extending its icy fingers through every corner and into every home. snow had begun to fall and formed a thin sheet over every surface, carrying with it a bitter wind that left most of the people within the town closing their doors and favoring a warm day inside, with heat flooding from their furnaces and hearty food cooking on the stove. you were among those who sheltered themselves from the cold weather, though your home was less comforting as opposed to the latter population. you sat at your desk, filling out paperwork that was meaningless to you, wishing for nothing more than to be done with such a tedious task. while you had accomplished quite a bit, there was still so much more to be done. a stack of papers as thick as a textbook sat adjacent to you, a constant reminder of how you would most likely be seated there for the rest of the day. not to mention the fact that you still had to fix that creaky hinge on the door that had been pestering you all week, along with the knowledge that tomorrow was monday, which meant that you would have to face the frigid outdoors to reach your workplace. a large sigh escaped your fatigued body, and you slumped down onto your desk, resting your head on the hard wood. it was hard to say how long you had been lying there before you heard the floor creak behind you. you raised your head lazily, turning around in your chair to see a man clad in a dark miner’s outfit and mask observing you from the doorway. you huffed with amusement, a small smile forming on your lips.

“harry, i dont think you need to wear that suit in here.”

still, he stood, his only movement the rise and fall of his shoulders with each heavy breath. since you two had begun your rather…odd relationship, and harry had moved in with you, he rarely took his uniform off, though you were sure it was quite uncomfortable. you knew that the man you loved was very troubled, and would need time to heal his wounds, you wished that he could at least feel comfortable in your own home someday. you rose from your chair and walked over to him, stopping right before your face was inches from his. the man never moved, or even flinched, simply stared down at you, his powerful form towering over yours. you raised your hands to cup his mask, and his hands instinctively grabbed yours, ready to push them away.

“wait,” you relented, keeping your grasp on the dark fabric. “what if i give you something in return?” harry didnt give in, and pried your hands off of him.

“okay,” you said softly in response to his movements. “i have to finish up some work, we can do whatever you want when im done, yeah?” you smiled at his expressionless mask, turning to return to that awful desk, that endless pile of paperwork. suddenly, a gloved hand seized your wrist, and you looked behind you to see harry, who had moved forward and grabbed you to stop you from leaving.

“come on, harry, i have to do this,” you told the masked man, a yawn nearly interrupting your speech. still, harry didnt move at your request, still keeping his grip on your arm tight.

you raised an eyebrow at him, turning around to make it easier to face him.

“itll only take a little while,” you lied. harry tugged on your arm this time, pulling you back towards him.

“harry-“

he shook his head, gazing down at your tired eyes. your hand in his, harry led you away from your desk, away from the incomplete stack of work that nagged at the back of your mind. harry brought you to the living room, simply bringing you to the couch in front of the radiating fireplace. you sat down next to him, the warmth from the hearth soothing your aching muscles. harry settled beside you, his eyes transfixed on the flames that blazed before the two of you. the image of the fire reflected in the eyes of his mask, and you stared, watching them flicker. harry turned his head as he felt your eyes on him, and a moment passed before harry took your hand again. this time, he brought it to his mask, and you suddenly realized that he was giving you permission to remove it. with anxious hands, you pulled off the mask, revealing harrys face, the fire giving his skin a warm red tint. you smiled at the image of your lover, and held his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. you thought you had felt the hint of a smile form on his lips. pulling away, you rested your head on the mans shoulder, the heat from the fireplace, the sound of harrys steady breaths, the warmth of the entire setting providing a calming lullaby that relieved all of the growing stress in your body and mind, until nothing remained but pure, simple peace.

#slasher x reader #harry warden #patrick bateman #i literally hate how these turned out im sorry anon #i didnt do these guys justice

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fatrainbowmermaidunicorn · 6 years ago

Text

Stay ( Jungkook x You ONESHOT)

Thankyou for this request anon! Sorry it took forever to get it done, and sorry its long (10k). But I hope you enjoy it <3 And requests are still open eventhough Im a bit slow these days. Sorry about that!

A/N: So I am currently writing a lot of stories based on cheating and it got me wondering, at what level should someone who cheats be forgiven? And at what level they shouldnt be? What are your thoughts on this? Should you forgive your partner who is cheating on you? Does the reason that leads them to cheat matter? Share with me your thoughts!

MASTERLIST

"I guess all those rumors were true," was all Y/N could managed to say while her eyes locked on Jungkook's brown ones. The eyes that used to look at her with love and adoration, now is filled with sympathy, and maybe, just maybe, a little guilt.

Rumors regarding Jungkook and another uprising girl group member has been going around for months, and being the doting girlfriend that she is, Y/N decides to trust Jungkook when he told her those were all rumors, a normal occurance for an idol like him, whenever she asks him about it. They have been together for almost six years, trusting him is just something she is so used to, and that's exactly what she did, without even a doubt in her mind.

But now...

Y/N went over to his dressing room during one of his music show although its not something that she usually do since no one other than the members and only some of the makeup artists and stylist knew about her existance as Jungkook's girlfriend. Its been six years but Jungkook still insisted to keep their relationship a secret, saying its for the sake of his career and his fans, but now she finally know the real reason why.

Jungkook left his wallet and phone that day, and after calling Jimin to asks their whereabouts, he told her that Jungkook always goes early to the venue whenever they have a show, and she should go straight there to see him. Went there she did, only to find her beloved boyfriend being straddled by the same rumored girl idol, skirt hitched up to her waist, her clothing scattered all over the floor, leaving her topless and panting on an equally shirtless Jungkook whose mouth is busy kissing her bare chest.

What's worse than seeing this is the fact that Jungkook calmly picks up her blouse that is on the floor to help her cover up, while she still stays on his lap, not even a slight remorse or guilt can be seen on his face.

"Hey babe, can you leave us alone for a while?" He turned to the girl who smile at him as she puts on her bloise and nodded. She leaned in to give him a peck on the lips, making Y/N closes her eyes as she feels her heart break into tinier pieces. The girl smirked at her as she passes by.

Jungkook sighed as he bends to pick up his own shirt and start buttoning up.

"I'm sorry you have to find out this way. Its not my intention,"

Y/N is speechless. How can the man who she had loved for the whole six years, and who she thought loves her back, be this cold and emotionless.

"I wanted to tell you soon. I just couldnt find the right time for it. But now you know," he stood up and look straight into her teary eyes. Y/N has lost all strength to yelled at him, or hit him or to just do anything. Jungkook doesnt seem to regret any of it, so whats the point for her to try scream and shout over it?

But still, there's something her broken heart needs to know.

"W-why? What did I do to make you stop loving me?"

Jungkook sighed and ran his hand through his hair before his eyes flickered back to her.

"Its nothing really. I just fall out of love," he said simply. Y/N's shoulders shakes as she tries her best to muffle her sobs when she hears his confession. Its been six long years, yes, but her love for him just gets stronger through every obstacle that they faced. She didnt think he would think the opposite. "Everything has becomes a routine for us. I want something new Y/N. I want adventures and fun. You... you just dont interest me anymore," his last sentence ends up in a whisper as the last effort to not hurt her.

Y/N cant stop her tears from flowing freely down her face anymore. She nodded weakly at Jungkook's emotionless face. She didnt know what to say. She didnt know what she should say.

"I'm sorry for thinking my love for you is enough," she whispered between choked sobs. "I love you Jungkook," Jungkook just stayed quiet as he looks at he hurt etched across the fcae of the woman he had loved for so long. "Just... just give me two days to clear up my things from the apartment... and... and I will be gone from your life,"

"Okay," he nodded before lowering his gaze. He thought he is going to be okay with this but it still hurts him to see Y/N cry. "I will give you the space you need and stay over at the dorm,"

Y/N looked over her shoulders one more time to the face that she loves and hate at the same time before exiting the now cold room. "Be happy Jungkook,"

/////

With non stop tears running down her face, Y/N threw her things inside the cardboard boxes that littered the whole apartment. It kills her to packed up every little memory she had build with Jungkook. Every single thing in the apartment reminds her of him, happy memories with him kept on replaying in her mind. The TV that she has turned on to keep her mind distracted while she packs start to play an entertainment news, and with her rotten luck, it showed a picture of Jungkook with the same girl from yesterday, now known as Yurin, finally announcing that they are officially dating.

Y/N felt her heart stops. It havent even been a day since she found out and Jungkook has already made a move. Six years their relationship was kept in the dark, always telling her he is not allowed to date and it people found out it would hurt his career. Six years of allowing herself to be fooled, always thinking and putting him first. Six years together, she had done everything with him and for him to just throw it all away... Y/N collapsed on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she buried her face and cry.

You can do this Y/N. You can be strong. You can let go.

After being curled up in a ball for almost an hour, she finally stood up with new determination and start to throw away every memory she had with him, picture frames, polaroids, tshirts, plushies, gifts from him, everything, into a pile as she packed up her things in a faster pace.

No more. No more Jeon Jungkook.

/////

Y/N smile as she look around the almost empty apartment. With her things gone, it looks almost unoccupied since Jungkook kept most of his things at the dorm. The movers has already brought down all her packed items and Y/N look around one last time, a small smile graced her face, along with a single tear that she quickly wiped away as she remembers for one last time the memory when she first moved in here with Jungkook. How happy they were back then.

Its over now. He has somebody new to make memories with. He dont love you anymore Y/N. Its over.

Its time for a new beginning. Y/N whispered to herself as she looks down at her flight ticket and the acceptance letter that she almost rejected at first because of Jungkook.

A new beginning without Jeon Jungkook.

/////

Jungkook lay down on his bed, tossing his phone around, something feels unsettled in his chest, when it dings, indicating a text from Yurin just came in.

"Another party Yurin? Really?" Jungkook sighed. Yurin is an uprising idol who is labelled as the IT party girl. For the weeks he had cheated with her behind Y/N's back, Jungkook felt alive. Going out to new restaurants, clubs and attending exclusive parties with a beautiful girl on his arms, but he's sick of it now.

Yurin loves showing whatever she does to the public. Its only been a day since they went public and she already showed millions of intimate moments of their relationship to the world. Private selfies, voice clips that Jungkook sang to her at nights, cute videos of their dates, everything. Jungkook knows his life as an idol was never going to be kept private anyway, but cant he just have a private moment with his girlfriend? Just cuddling and talking all night until the sun rises without it being posted on social media the next day?

Yes, Yurin is something fresh. Something new. Adventures and fun. But he didnt want that. He didnt want parties every weekends. He didnt want new suits and dresses everyday, just to attend another snobbish event. He didnt want rough nights together between the sheets but ended up sleeping with their backs facing each other. Those wasnt adventures.

Adventures are hiking up the hill at 4 am just to watch the sunrise together. Cooking home made meals that they never tried before together instead of dressing up and eating at these fine dining places that doesnt even taste good. Wasting his free day watching back to back superhero marathons, cuddled up in blankets, limbs tangling with each other. Passionate nights together that leads to pillowtalk, exploring their dreams and fears with one another. Dancing and singing to old pop songs while trying to clean the apartment but ended up only making it messier. Running around in the rain instead of waiting it out, only to be sick the next day. Sneaking out together to some run down diner in the middle of the night, meeting up with his hyungs, eating multiple burgers and ice cream, laughing the night away, only to work extra hard the next day to burn it all off.

Jungkook blinked as he realizes, those are the things he miss.

Those are things he used to do with Y/N.

He said he wanted new things. He wanted adventures. Something fun. That is what he said to Y/N when she asks him why. That is what he thought he wanted in Yurin. But Jungkook never realized that Y/N is everything he had ever wanted. She is the combination of familiarity and new memories. She is new experiences and familiar warmth.

Y/N is his home.

"What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck did I do to Y/N?!" Jungkook yelled to himself, surprising Jimin who passed by his room. "I need to go. I need to talk to her before its too late!" He grabbed his jacket and ran out, leaving a puzzled Jimin who didnt get a chance to ask him anything.

With panting breath Jungkook slammed the door opened only to be greeted with a cold and empty apartment. It doesnt smell like home. It doesnt feel like home. Not anymore. He stood in the middle of the empty apartment, realizing he's too late and Y/N is no longer here.

Jungkook noticed every single thing that is different. How the coffee table is no longer littered with her books, how there are no more fresh flowers in the vase beside the window, empty walls that's used to be filled with pictures of them, the smell of home cooked food that usually fills the air the moment he open the door, her favorite cartoon character cups in the kitchen shelf, the magnets that littered the fridge which she always bought when they went travelling together... everything is gone. And Jungkook has never felt more lonely.

He didnt know where else to go, so he ran to the only place he could think off; her office. The receptionist was shocked when she recognized who he is, but he doesnt care. If Y/N takes him back, he will tell everybody that will listen that they are together. That he loves her. That he's never going to let her go ever again.

"L/N Y/N. I need to see her," Jungkook asks still panting. The still shocked receptionist scrolled on her computer and after a few seconds, she looks up at him.

"Im sorry sir. There is no one that works here under that name," Jungkook furrowed his brows. He is pretty sure this is where Y/N works. He himself has dropped her here a few times before.

"Are you sure? This is XXX Enterprise right? Is there another one?" The receptionist shakes her head.

"No. This is the only one,"

"Then she must be here!" Jungkook slammed his clenched fist on the counter, making the receptionist jumped. "I need to see L/N Y/N!"

"But Sir. I.. I-"

"Did you say L/N Y/N?" Their conversation was interrupted by a girl who just came down from the building. Jungkook immediately rushed to her.

"Yes. Do you know her? Can you take me to see her?"

"I do know her but... I'm sorry. Y/N doesnt work here anymore. She quit with a 24 hours notice yesterday. I heard she moved somewhere out of the country," the girl explained, giving him a sad smile before walking away. Jungkook felt his knees wobbled as he hold on to the wall. It cant be true. It just cant be.What has he done? Did he really make her ran out of the country?

Where did you go baby? Please come back to me. Please stay. Please.

Jungkook walked out from the building, steps unpurposeful and defeated and unknowingly his feet brought him back to their shared apartment.

He was about to slumped himself on the sofa and just drowned in self pity when his eyes caught a box in the corner of the room. He walked over and saw its a box filled with their memories together

Did Y/N forget to bring this with her? Or did she intended to throw it out but forgot?

Jungkook sit cross legged in front of the box and start to take out the things inside. He automatically smile as his hand touched the first item. His white tshirt. Y/N loves to sleep in those. She says its comfortable and it smells like him, it helps her sleep better on the nights when he is away on tour. He sniffed the shirt and her scent start to filled his nose. He inhale and close his eyes as he starts to feel an ache inside his heart. He continues to rummaged through and found plushies he had won her on their first date from the claw machine, picture frames of them, the bracelet he bought her on their first anniversary. Every inch of their memory, Y/N has discarded and left it behind. The thought hurts him so much he feels suffocated.

The last item that is shoved to the bottom of the box is a scrap book that Y/N made for their six years anniversary. Its filled with pictures and momentos dated back from their very first date to their last one, which is almost months ago, making Jungkook realized how long he has been neglecting her. And yet, she had never once complained.

He flipped through the pages and saw pictures of him and his group winning awards, photos of their performances. Events that he never allow Y/N to attend under the false pretense that he is not allowed to date. Y/N never asks why, never once argued or demand anything from their relationship. Quietly watching her own boyfriend from behind a screen instead of being there with him celebrating.

Jungkook sighed and placed the scrap book down. Y/N never questioned any of his move. She trusts him and he broke that trust. For six years, all she wanted was for him to be happy. She's always there when Jungkook is stressed out over work, releasing his anger on her instead, but she always takes it with a smile. She's there when he's sick, always attending to him, making sure he and his group mates have enough to eat, bringing them lunchboxes during practice. Its not a question that his hyungs adores her. She's always considerate, understanding and consistantly asking what Jungkook needs and want.Even on the verge of breaking up, she didnt make a scene, agreeing quietly, respecting Jungkook's decision to stop loving her.

After six years, Jungkook only now realized he had never once asks her how she's doing. If school and work is hard on her, if she has a problem, if she's sick. Never once has he told her that she's already a perfect girlfruend for him and he loves her just for who she is. Jungkook starts to shake as his body try to hold in the hurt and tears he's feeling. The memory of her starts to haunt every inch of him, making him collapsed to the floor.

Where are you Y/N? Please come back to me. I need to tell you Im sorry. I need to tell you I love you. Come back. Please come back. Jungkook whispered repeatedly as he finally fall asleep with the shirt that still smell like her clutch tightly in his grasp.

/////

Jungkook immediately went to see Yurin the next day, explaning that their whole relationship is a mistake, consumed with lust and not love. He had expected her wrath but to his surprised, she was calm and agreed to his request to break up. Her only request is to wait a month before officially announcing it as it would damage her image if the news came out only a day after going public.

Months passed by and the two of them still maintained a great friendship, hanging out and still contacting one another. If only Y/N is back in his arms, then everything would be perfect.

"Good job everyone, see you tomorrow!" The cheographer clapped his hands, indicating the end of their practice for the day. Jungkook slide himself down on the floor and take out his phone as he gulped down from his water bottle. He scrolled through the pictures of him and Y/N and smile to himself.

"What's up with you? Do you have like a secret girlfriemd or something?" Jin elbowed him as he slide down beside him and take a swift of water. Jungkook just smile at his hyung. Without anybody's knowledge, Jungkook tried to find her everyday since she left, texting and calling her number, but never once received a reply. But it gives him hope when no one ever text him back saying he got the wrong number or the number is no longer in used. He is sure its still Y/N's and she is just ignoring him.

"Seriously, are you keeping something from us?" Jimin pouts.

He looked up at Jimin, almost opening his mouth and stop when he remembers that nobody knows the truth except for Taehyung. Jungkook came back to an empty dorm the next day with tears still evident on his face, only to be found by Taehyung who is actually sleeping and decided to stay home. Emotionally hurt and unstable, Jungkook let out everything to his hyung and makes Taehyung promise to never tell anyone about it.

"I-"

"Okay guys. Go shower. We have a meeting about the new variety show in 30," Namjoon announced making the boys groaned.

Freshly showered, the seven boys dragged their tired feet to the meeting room which is already filled with the production team and their own management team. Seating himself in the corner, Jungkook slumped down on his chair, tired. He dont really participate in these meetings anyways so maybe he can just dozed off. Namjoon and Jin can always fill him up later. After a while his manager clapped his hands.

"Okay. Its settled then. Take a look around guys, these are the faces you are going to be working with for the next one year or so," he told the room and everyone start to smile and busy themselves to look around, making themselves familiar with their new colleagues. Jungkook straighten up and scanned around the room too before his eyes fall on a girl seated way back on the opposite side, her hair and cap pulled low to cover her face. Jungkook continues to stare as there's just something familiar about her, but it seems she's trying hard to avoid looking at him or his hyungs.

Maybe she's a fan and she's starstruck?

To his luck, someone went over to greet her, and having no other choice, the girl raised her head to smile and greet the person back, revealing her face, making Jungkook's heart beat faster and eyes turned wide.

"Wait...Y/N?"

/////

Ahhh shit. Why do my first project has to involved Bangtan? Why does life hate me so much?

Y/N cursed herself as she walked alongside her team into the meeting room. After a year of studying abroad in broadcasting and production, she finally came back and was immediately hired by one of the big company in the field. Impressed by her skill, she was immediately assigned to her first project, which is an ongoing variety show which will take up to a year or more. Y/N is excited until she read the project paper and realized with who she will be working with.

Very soon after her departure, she starts to receive daily calls and texts from Jungkook. Texts that says he miss her and he loves her, asking for forgiveness. She ignored each and every one of it. Her heart almost gives in at first, but when she remembers the image of Jungkook and Yurin, the memory of how he told her he dont love her anymore, her heart starts to harden again. She still remembers the lain and its never going away.

Y/N thought she was doing well in hiding herself. None of the boys seems to recognized her. Until the manager asks them to look around and she saw Jungkook's curious eyes keeps on staring at her. She pulled her cap low, hoping she can make it until the meeting ends. She almost made it when one of the senior calls out to her and she has no other choice but to look up, and that's when she heard it.

"Wait...Y/N?"

Y/N ignores it. Hoping Jungkook would think he got the wrong person if she just stayed quiet. But the relentless boy stood up and walked closer, giving her no other place to hide.

"Y/N? Y/N, its really you!" You take a deep breath and turned to face him. It would be weird if you didnt since Jungkook is calling your name in the middle of a crowded meeting room. Still, you thank god the room is noisy with people greeting each other so no one is really focusing on the two of you. You turned, only to be faced with Jungkook smiling wide at you, bunny teeth showing and all, the smile so wide it stretch across his face. He took a step closer and reached out for your hand but you flinched away.

"Im not dreaming am I?" He asks more to himself rather than to you. "Y/N... its you. It really is you..." his voice coming out almost a whisper, she can see his eyes glisten. You look around, hoping something will save you from this awkward situation.

"He... hello, Jungkook-ssi,"

Jungkook's brows furrowed, confused. "Y/N. Its me. Why are you-"

"Okay, that's it for today! We shall meet again on the first day of recording. Thankyou everyone!" Someone said above the noise and everybody start to exit the room, Y/N being the first to grabbed her things and ran, leaving Jungkook standing there alone.

"Hey Kook. You okay?" Taehyung patted his back, confused by the maknae's weird behavior.

"She's back hyung. Y/N's back," he whispered, eyes still locked on the door.

"What?"

"Y/N is back. And I'm going to make her mine again,"

/////

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Namjoon huffed. "You cheated on Y/N with Yurin. Then she found out, and then you say all these nasty things to her. Y/N moved to another country before your stupid ass can figured out that you actually love her and made a mistake. And again your stupid ass have been pining on her since then, and now a year later she's back as a part of the production team and you want her back?"

Jungkook nodded eagerly, disregarding all the insults thrown at him. Namjoon give the back of his head a hard smack.

"Owh hyung!"

"You deserve it you idiot!" Namjoon snarled. "How can you do that?"

"Yes. You do. You do deserve it. In fact, give him another smack Joon," Jin said as he continue to eat his food from the takeout box. All seven of them are now gathered around the living room, eating their takeout after the meeting when Jungkook, after being coaxed by Taehyung, decides to tell everything to his hyungs. Its better if they know anyway. Namjoon land another smack on the side of his head as per Jin's request.

"Oww hyung. That really hurts!" Jungkook groaned as he rubbed his head.

"Good. It should hurt. Its nothing compared to the hurt Y/N felt. Why would she loves an idiot like you I will never know," Jungkook lowered his gaze.

"I know I hurt her hyung. But I was stupid," he mumbled. "I'm still stupid. But... I want her back. Please help me. I have waited for a year to see her again. Now she's right here. I will die if I lose her again," Jungkook begged. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Oh stop being so dramatic! This happened because of your own stupidity anyway,"

Taehyung chuckle while Jungkook pouts. "I think he really will hyung. I have known about this for almost a year now and he does look like he is dying sometimes," Taehyung backed him up.

"Yoongi hyung is just pissed because he likes Y/N. We all like Y/N. She's great! He is still angry at Kook for breaking up with her," Jimin helps to explain something that everybody already knew.

"Of course I am. She the only one who understand the importance of sleep when you imbecile starts to make ridiculous amount of noise and she feeds me too. Jungkook is an asshole," he growled, making Jungkook ducked his head. Its no secret that Yoongi adores Y/N. She is the only girl he has ever brought to his studio and even share some of his unfinished songs. His hyung adoration towards his girlfriend sometimes ignites his own jealousy. Yoongi is extremely pissed off when Jungkook dumped her for Yurin, but now that he know he actually cheated on her... he's fuming. "I should have just dated her instead," he added, although teasingly, but it makes Jungkook tense up.

"Hyung, no! Y/N is mine!"

"No she's not yours idiot," Jin stood up and gave him another smack in the head. "At least not anymore," Jungkook grumbled as he rubbed his head again as he decides to ignore what Jin said.

"So are you all going to help me?"

"Of course we are! We like Y/N," Hoseok cheerfully answered.

"But Jungkook, remember. We want her to be happy. If she decides she doesnt want to be with you anymore, then promise us that you will let her go," Namjoon warned sternly.

"But hyung..."

"Promise us,".

Jungkook ponders for a while. Letting her go? How can he ever do that? But Namjoon is right. Y/N deserves to be happy and if Jungkook is not what makes her happy, the right thing should be letting her go.

"Okay... I promise,"

/////

"Damn maknae, can you at least pretend that you are interested in the show?" Namjoon hissed at Jungkook, making the latter smile sheepishly and concerntrate to what the PD is explaning about the game they are going to play. How can he focus on some silly game when Y/N is right in front of him? Although she's trying to hide herself between the cameras and crew, Jungkook's eyes followed her like a radar. Its only the first day and he already cant control the urged to grab her and hug her tight. How is he going to make it through the whole year if Y/N decides she doesnt want him back?

"Hey Y/N," Jungkook smile at her, flashing his bunny teeth and turned to the crew she is talking to. "Can you excuse us for a while?" The crew bowed and leave, finally giving him a chance to talk to her alone.

"Hi Y/N," he tries again, still smiling. God, why am I smiling so much? Why do I sound like a love struck teenager? Jungkook scold himself and clear his throat to look cool. Y/N bowed and gave him a small smile.

"Hello Jungkook-ssi," Jungkook's smile dissappeared into a frown at her reply.

"Dont call me that. Dont act like you dont know me," his warm brown eyes looks sad as he stares into hers. "Please..."

"Im not doing anything," Y/N shakes her head. "We are just colleagues now Jungkook-ssi, I think its proper for us to keep our formalities," Jungkook sighed.

"Fine. Then can we be friends?"

"Its too early for that. We just got to know each other again," Y/N smile, making Jungkook's heart skipped a beat.

"Okay. Then I will make sure we will become friends," he smiled back. He is thankful enough that Y/N is atleast willing to talk to him after the shit he has done. "How are you? Im glad you are back," he said slowly. "I really miss you..." his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Erm, I..." Y/N felt awkward. She really didnt know what to say. Despite the way Jungkook broke things off with her, and how he cheated on her, Y/N doesnt hate him. Instead, she blames herself everyday for making Jungkook stop loving her. She told herself that she should have take care of her appearance more, be more interesting, more fun, anything. "Im doing fine,"

"Y/N...listen. I didnt get the chance to tell you before. The moment I found out you left I went to find you Y/N, but I was too late..." Jungkook lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry. Im sorry for everything. Im sorry for-"

"Its okay!" She cut him off in a rush. She really didnt want to talk about it. She doesnt want to remember the pain she felt when Jungkook said he dont love her anymore. Her still healing heart might just break again. "Its not your fault. People fall out of love all the time. Things that happened are in the past. Lets just keep it there,"

Jungkook is surprised at the hurt he's feeling. What does she means by its not his fault? Its no one's fault but his! "But Y/N, I-"

"Kookie!" Jungkook saw Y/N's eyes widen as she looks over his shoulder at the sound that is currently calling his name.

"Oh hey! I'm Yurin," the girl flashed her a smile. Oh Y/N knows alright. She will never forget the face she found kissing and doing more intimate things with her boyfriend a year ago.

"H..hi. I'm Y/N," Jungkook chewed on his lower lips, guilt and panic all over his face.

"Oh sounds familiar. But anyway, nice to meet you!" Yurin greet cheerfully and turned to Jungkook. "Oh Kookie, I wanted to tell you that my group is joining this variety too! We are doing it together! Isnt that great?"

"Wh..what?" Jungkook flickered his gaze from Yurin to Y/N. Y/N averted her eyes as she looks down. Its all too much. The way she held his arm. The way she calls him. The way she talks to him. Its all too much.

"I...I better get going. See you Jungkook-ssi,"

"Y/N, wait! I-" He couldnt finished his sentence before she has hurried away. He sighed in frustration as his eyes followed Y/N who is stopped by Taehyung and Yoongi who finally has the chance to greet her. He saw how Taehyung hug her tight and lifted her up, swinging her petite body around in glee and Yoongi swooped in and gave her another tight hug, burying his head in her hair, that lasted a little too long for Jungkook's liking. Taehyung then stilole her away again and kissed her forehead. Jungkook turned back to Yurin who is still happily telling him the news and excuse himself.

Why does Yurin has to appear right now?

/////

Jungkook looks out the window as the van take them to their next venue for the shoot. Its the second day of shooting, and Jungkook is excited to see Y/N again. Its only been a few days and he miss her already. He's going crazy thinking of ways to get her back. But what bothers him most is what Y/N told him.

Its not your fault. People fall out of love all the time.

What does she meant by that? How is everything that happened not his fault? Does she really believes that he didnt love her anymore? How can she still be so forgiving and pure after everything he did and say to her in the midst of their breakup?

Jungkook mainly stare at her during the whole shoot and he almost cried out in frustration when its over and he still didnt have a chance to talk to her. That is until Taehyung happily told them that he managed to coaxed Y/N to join them for dinner. Despite being happy that he can get some time with her, Jungkook still feel a little jealousy seeping in when he thinks how Y/N easily agrees to Taehyung request. He calmed himself, trying to remember that Y/N and Taehyung has always been close even before she is in an official relationship with him.

Its okay. They are just very close friends. Very close friends.

Jungkook sat opposite from her, right at the end of the table, at the restaurant while Taehyung sat on her right. He keeps on looking at her as he placed pieces of grilled meat and side dishes on her plate without saying anything. She didnt say anything either, as she slowly eats whatever Jungkook placed in her plate while she softly talks and laugh with Taehyung.

"Thankyou for dinner. It was nice spending time with all of you again," she smiled at them. The truth is, she miss them so much when she was away.

"Then you should come and hang out at our dorm again. Just like before!" Jimin suggested.

"Yeah. You can be on my team when we play video games. Chim and Kookie is always ganging up on me!" Taehyung pouts. Y/N laughs and pinched his cheeks.

"Aish, you are so cute Tae. I really miss you,"

"Hear that? Y/N miss me!" He squeals at the other members making them rolled their eyes. Jungkook who is watching the whole scene start to feel the same sense of jealousy seeping through again.

Why is she calling him Tae? Why is she telling him she miss him? Why is she touching him? Is something going on with them? Jungkook cant stop all these negative thoughts from running through his mind.

"So I will get going now," Y/N motioned to the opposite way of the road. Hoseok and Jin starts to nudge Jungkook with their elbow.

"What?" He hissed. They motioned to Y/N with their eyes.

"Gosh, you are so stupid," Jin hissed back. It took a while for Jungkook to finally understand what they meant.

"Oh!" He quickly ran after Y/N. "Y/N, let me walk you home," he said between pants as he fall in steps beside her.

"Oh. Its okay Jungkook-ssi. Im used to it. The air is nice and I dont live that far from here," she smile, declining the offer.

"No. I insist. How can I let you walk home alone Y/N. You know I always worry about you," his voice turned soft as he looks at her. Y/N kept quiet as the memories came back. Its true. Through the six years they were together, Jungkook always worry about her safety. He always makes sure that she never walks alone. On nights when he is busy, he will make sure to call her a cab or an uber and check on her the minute she arrived to her destination.

"Y/N...I'm sorry," his soft voice broke through her thoughts. "I want to tell you again and again that I'm sorry. I am so so sorry for everything I did," Y/N shakes her head.

"No. Its okay. We dont have to talk about it. Its-"

"No!" Jungkook raised his voice, startling her. "Its not okay. Me cheating on you is not okay! The things I said to you that day... its not okay. Everything I did to you is not okay. Scream at me Y/N. Hit me, hate me. Do anything. I will take it all. I deserve it all," he said as she took both of her hands in his, stopping them in their tracks. "Do something. Dont pretend that I didnt hurt you... I know I did... and I'm stupid for doing it," Y/N finally hear the regret and pain in his voice, something she didnt witness when he broke up with her, making her heart ache.

"Yes Jungkook," her voice suddenly broke the silence. "It hurts so much. Is that what you wanted to hear? It hurts so much, I feel like dying," Y/N speaks up, making Jungkook's head snapped up to her face. "A part of me died when you say that you dont love me anymore. Especially when I cant think of anything else but loving you," tears starts to spilled down her cheeks. "But I know I'm the one to blame. I was too comfortable with our relationship, I let it die. I stop doing things that interest you... and its fine. You deserve better. You always do," she looked to his eyes with her teary ones.

Jungkook shakes his head as he held her hands tighter. Is that what Y/N thought all this while? She blamed herself?

God, what have I done to you baby?

"Y/N. Its nothing like that," he whispered softly. His own tears threatened to fall but he blinked them back. "I thought I wanted something new, but I was wrong. You are everything that I have always wanted I have everything I need in you but I threw it all away. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry. I'm just so so sorry for everything," Jungkook exhale. "I have never stop loving you Y/N. Im sorry for what I said. I love you Y/N. I have waited for so long for you to come back. I have waited for so long to show you again how much I love you,"

Y/N is shocked by his confession.

"Y/N, I promise to shower you with everything that you deserve. I know I dont deserve you, but please... please give me a chance to make up for my mistake,"

Y/N shrugged off her hands from Jungkook's hold, making him startled. "No! Im sorry, but I cant Jungkook," her voice shakes from too much sadness. "You cant do this to me again. It hurts so much the first time. I tried everything just to get over you. You cant just come back in my life just so you can shatter by heart to pieces again. Im sorry, but I cant Jungkook," Y/N choked out between sobs as she start to turn around to run away but Jungkook was faster, grabbing her hands.

"Let me go... please,"

"I will. But you have to listen to me first!" Jungkook cried in desperation. "I know. I know I dont deserve you, I know that Y/N. But as much as I know that, I also know that I simply cant live without you. I love you too much. Losing you... it hurts. It hurts more than anything I have ever felt," he peeks into her eyes, making her look at him. "But I promise you this. You can run from me Y/N. You can leave and ran away. But I will chase after you. I wont stop chasing you, wherever you go, I will follow you, I will be right behind you. I will be right there, until you are fully healed and realized that I wont do anything to hurt you ever again," he said with determination as he lets go of his hold on her, letting Y/N ran off without looking back to him.

/////

Jungkook tried hard to show he meant what he said after that night. He starts to talk to her more eventhough she ignores him. He will invite himself to eat with her, join her on her breaks and walk her home, even without her asking or acknowledging it. It also doesnt help that the boys are starting to pull her into getting close with them again. Inviting her to dinner and movie nights, lunches and just hanging out with them at the dorm. With time, Y/N has opened her heart to at least be friends with him again.

Yurin who eyed their growing relationship starts to be consumed with jealousy. She agreed to the breakup because its what Jungkook wants. She believes that someday he will come back to her. But with this Y/N girl around... and looking at how love struck and smitten Jungkook is with her... she sense all hope for them dying. The truth is, she loves Jungkook and she will do anything to get him back.

And that is exactly what she's going to do.

Jungkook sniffed the bouquet of sunflowers that he just bought with a smile on his face. Its Y/N's birthday today and he has everything planned out. He's going to give her the sunflowers when he sees her, then the boys are taking her out for dinner after work and after that they are going to give Jungkook some alone time with her. Jungkook has booked a private observatory just for the two of them. Maybe its a little too much for someone who are "just friends" but he feels giddy thinking about laying down on the blanket and the picnic he prepared for them, looking at the beautiful night sky together.

He look for her everywhere but couldnt seem to find Y/N. She most probably have somewhere else to be. Running late for his first scene, Jungkook just placed the flowers in one of the rooms, knowing Y/N will find it since he has attached a card to them. He smile as he makes his way to his hyungs.

"You guys are on in about 10 minutes," Y/N peeked her head inside the girls' dressing room. Yurin and her group are now also a part of the show and although it kills her to see the face that haunts her nights everyday, she have to keep it profesional. Y/N was about to turn away when she heard the girl's conversation.

"How sweet is Jungkook? Its like you two never broke up!"

"Yeah. My ex would never would have bought me flowers. Especially without an occasion," another squeal. "Maybe the two of you would get back together!"

Y/N, given in to her curiosity, peeks her head again to see Yurin smiling so bright, holding a bouquet of sunflowers close to her chest.

Jungkook gave her flowers? I guess they are still close... And he didnt even wish me a happy birthday. Y/N thought sadly as she walks away with a burning ache in her heart.

Dinner was wonderful. The boys was so much fun to be with and the food is delicious. But she was more excited after Jungkook leaned in close to her and smile, whispering something to her that make her forget about Yurin and the flowers earlier.

"I have something special planned for your birthday after dinner. Just you and me,"

Y/N was excited as all of them picked up their coats and get ready to head out from the restaurant, she is more than ready for Jungkook's surprise. Who is she kidding? She has forgiven him long ago and her heart is already falling for him again. Y/N smile as she thinks about Jungkook. She can feel he has really changed this time.

Jungkook was just about to take Y/N's hand as they head out when his phone rings.

"Yurin?" He answered making Y/N and the other boys turned their heads to him. "Yeah, yeah of course. I will be right there. Dont worry. I will always be there for you," he spoke rapidly into the phone. Hearing Jungkook saying those words makes Y/N''s heart ache even more.

"Y/N... I'm sorry... but I have to-"

"Its okay. Yurin needs you right?" She asks cocking her head. The other boys stands awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

"Its not like that. I..." Jungkook sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. Leaving her for Yurin. Again. On her birthday. He knows this doesnt look good on him. Especially when he's trying so hard to win her back. But Yurin was crying on the phone asking him to take her to the hospital. He cant just leave her alone.

But looking at Y/N who's trying to hide her dissapointed face... it kills him. "About what I said earlier... Tae-hyung will take you there," he suddenly said while looking at a surprised Taehyung.

"Me?" Taehyung points to himself. "Urm yeah, yeah. That's right. Anything for the birthday girl," he flashed her his signature smile and offer his arm to her after Jungkook mouthed a 'please' to him.

"Oh no. Its okay Tae. You dont have to. I dont want to burden you," Y/N waved her hands.

"No. I insisted. A pretty girl like you shouldnt be spending her birthday alone. And its not a burden. In fact Im the lucky one to be spending some alone time with you," he wiggle his eyebrows making her laugh. Jungkook swallowed a lump in his throat as he looks at the love of her life links her arms to his hyung's and walking away. Taehyung has always been flirty, Jungkook knows that. But he also knows how his hyung has a soft spot reserved just for Y/N and how his eyes twinkle when he looks at her.

Dont fall for Taehyung Y/N. Not when I'm right here waiting for you.

/////

"Tae, its beautiful!" Y/N exclaimed as she looks up at the stars.

"Yes, it is..." Taehyung whispered as he keeps on looking at her. He still couldnt believe how Jungkook is stupid enough to have hurt such a wonderful girl like her. If he was given the privileged to own her heart, he will do anything to keep that smile on her face.

"Cant believe Jungkook prepared all this and didnt get to see it," at the sound of his friend's name, Taehyung snapped out from his thoughts and plopped down besides Y/N who is now sitting on the blanket. "But I guess Yurin is always more important," she said in a low voice as she lay her head on his shoulder. Taehyung wrapped his arms around her. He can see how much Y/N still loves his younger friend and how being so close to Yurin hurts her. Why cant Jungkook see that?

"Hey... dont be sad. Its your birthday," he replied softly as he kissed her head. "Jungkook cares about you, you know. He still loves you," it pains him to say it but if Jungkook is what makes Y/N happy, so he held it in. Y/N kept quiet, lifting her head, staring at the stars.

"Right now, I dont want to think about him Tae," she suddenly broke the silence. "Right now, I just want to enjoy this beautiful sight with you," she whispered as she snuggle closer, laying herself on his chest. "You are wonderful Tae. I wish you are the one I had fallen for..." her voice so soft, like she didnt mean for Taehyung to hear her but he did. Taehyung wrapped his hands tighter around her, feeling his heart skipped a little faster.

"Then fall for me Y/N," he whispered softly under his breath, making sure Y/N didnt hear him.

Jungkook cursed as he make his way back to the dorms after checking up on Yurin. He didnt know why she made such a big deal. When he arrived, Yurin just actually have a little cold. With frustration, he went to get her some medicine from the drug store and went home after giving them to her. Because of her, he missed out on a romantic night with Y/N on her birthday. Because of her, his hyung is spending some time alone with Y/N, doing God knows what. What if Y/N fall for Taehyung while looking into each other eyes under the stars? Those kind of thoughts fills his mind all night, especially when he realized Taehyung is still not back hours after he was supposed to. Jungkook sighed and forced himself to sleep while thinking of the good memories he used to have with Y/N.

Jungkook tries to make up for that night the next time he sees her by asking her out for a coffee date during one of the shoots break time. Y/N agreed and told him to just wait for her at the cafe as she has things to finished up first.

Ordering her favorite drink, smiling to himself when he realizes he still remembers, he sat down at a corner by the large glass window, patiently waiting for her.

"Hey Kookie. What are you doing here?" He groans as he looks up and see a smiling Yurin.

"Im actually waiting for Y/N,"

"Oh? Maybe I should keep you company while you wait for her. I have no where to go right now anyway and its so cold outside," Yurin took a seat without bothering to wait for his permission. Although annoyed, Jungkook and Yurin still has a decent conversation with each other. He still enjoy her presence. After all, they did used to date.

She suddenly blinked rapidly and squeal.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something in my eyes. Can you help to blow it away?" She asks as she squint. Jungkook stood up and leaned across the table, first softly tucking her stray hair behind her ear and blow into her eyes.

"Is it gone now?" She shakes her head.

"No. Lean in closer. Can you check if there's anything in my eye?" Jungkook, not doubting anything leaned in closer across the table, peering into her eyes, their faces are so close she can feel his warm breath on her face, his scent making her dizzy. She suddenly bumped her head to his, making their lips touched for a second.

"Oh Im sorry. It was an accident," she smile sheepishly. Jungkook just grunted and sat back down before he turned to the window. What he saw outside almost make his heart stop. Y/N is standing there staring at them and Jungkook knows she must saw what had just happened between him and Yurin and get the wrong idea. Jungkook immediately stood up to go out to her but the moment she realized Jungkook is looking back at her, she stumbled on her feet and fell down scraping her knee. She quickly stand up and ran away.

Jungkook ran after her, figuring our she must have went back to the shoot since they still have another scene later. Reaching the set, panting and breathless, Jungkook search everywhere for Y/N. After a while he finally found her, but not in the situation he has been expecting. Y/N was perched up on a table, her face wet with tears as Taehyung kneeled in front of her, cleaning her wounded knee from the fall earlier. Jungkook can feel his body starts to be consumed wirh anger and jealousy as he marched into the room.

"What are you doing hyung?!"

"Im cleaning Y/N's wound. Cant you see?" Taehyung replied, raising his eyebrow. Jungkook came closer and grab the hand that is touching Y/N's knee.

"Dont touch her!" His aggressive behavior surprised both himself and Taehyung, and of course Y/N herself. "I...I mean, let me do it,"

Taehyung hesitates for a moment but after looking at the two of them, he decides to give them space. "Fine. But if you hurt her again, I will kill you," he whispered to the maknae as he passes by to exit the room.

Jungkook kneeled down and start to continue cleaning the wound. Y/N shivers the moment Jungkook's warm fingers touch her cold skin and a fresh batch of tears starts to erupt.

"Y/N, its not like what you think," Jungkook srood up to level himself with her. "What you saw, its not like that,"

"I...I didnt see anything,"

"Then why are you crying?"

"Im crying because it hurts. My knee hurts," she whimpered. Jungkook smile.

"The Y/N I know didnt even bat an eye when she broke her arm. I dont think she will cry this hard because of some tiny wound on her knee," his face is so close to her, she can feel him breathing as she closes her eyes. "Y/N... I'm sorry," he leaned in closer. "Please believe me. There is nothing going on between me and Yurin. We-"

The mentioned of Yurin's name makes something snapped inside of Y/N, making her eyes opened and pushed Jungkook away, startling him. She climbed down the table and walk to further herself away from him.

"No. I cant do this anymore," she said in a shaky voice.

"Y/N, what are you talking ab-"

"This. Being this close to you. Pretending to be friends with you. I cant do it anymore. Not when the image of you and Yurin still haunt me everyday. I cant do it anymore Jungkook," she yelled. Jungkook is shocked. Y/N was never like this. She is always calm and composed. What has he done to push her to become this?

"Y/N. Please listen to me. I lov-"

"Dont say anything. Just dont," she cut him off, shaking her head. "You have hurt me enough Jungkook. Please... I dont want to hurt anymore. Please, just leave me alone!" She turned around and exited the room, living Jungkook alone, shaking to the bones trying to comprehend what just happened.

/////

Y/N avoided him and his hyungs since then. Jungkook didnt know what else to do. How can he be so dumb? How can he not see what Yurin is up to? He finally found out the scheme Yurin is planning to ensure he and Y/N will never be together when he overheard her talking to one of her groupmates. He finally found out about the flowers, about the fake sickness, how she had planned everything to always ended up wherever Jungkook and Y/N is headed and how she staged the whole accidental kiss in the coffee shop. Jungkook is furious. Furious at her for being such a bitch. Furious at himself for falling for her trap. He should have known better to stay friends with a girl like Yurin.

And now he's going to lose Y/N all over again.

"I told you I will kill you if you hurt her again!" Taehyung slammed Jungkook's bedroom door open. Jungkook looks at him with no emotions in his eyes. That's how he is since Y/N told him to stay away form her. To stop hurting her. Her words keeps replaying in his mind and it kills him to know that that's what Y/N thought of him. As someone who continuously hurts her.

"Go away hyung,"

"No! After what you did, this is how you are going to act?!"

"What do you want me to do hyung? I am not good for her. I hurt her. Thats all I do. I know Im stupid, an idiot. Whatever it is you came here to say to me, I already know it. So just get on with it and leave," Jungkook turned around in his bed, showing his back to Taehyung.

"You are really a fucking asshole Jungkook. I dont know why she loves you. I dont even know why I'm doing this when I know you will just hurt her again. But..." Taehyung's voice soften. "She's leaving again Kook. She resigned and she's boarding a train today. She's leaving,"

"What?" Jungkook immediately sat up.

"She's leaving and she's not coming back. If you truly loves her, go now. Go and fight for her now!" Jungkook, without waiting for anything else jumped out of bed and ran outside the door.

I'm coming Y/N. Dont leave. Please dont leave me.

With the information that Taehyung has texted him with, Jungkook managed to reached the platform in time, having even to buy a random ticket to get in. He searched around everywhere and finally found the person he was looking for.

"Y/N..." Y/N turned around at the sound of her name, surprised to see the man she loves standing there, looking disheveled.

"Jungkook? Wh...why are you here?"

"Please dont leave me again. Please Y/N. Please stay with me..." He walks closer to her as Y/N chuckle through her tears.

"I didnt leave you the first time Jungkook. You left me. You left our relationship remember?" She said softly. Jungkook stand in front of her, both of them facing each other, having so much to say but also nothing at the same time.

"I'm sorry Y/N. But please stay with me this time. I... I love you. I love you so much," Jungkook's voice is broken, as broken as his heart.

"I cant. I'm sorry but I cant. I dont want to hurt anymore Jungkook. Being here... with you... my heart will never heal," she said softly. Jungkook didnt get to say anything as the train speeds in, blocking all sounds. "I have to go now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Jungkook," Y/N said one last time with tears flowing down her face as she turnd away to the train's entrance. Jungkook can feel her vision gets blurry as tears starts to flood his eyes.

This is it. This is the moment he will lose her forever.

And there's nothing more he can do to make her stay.

"Be happy Y/N. I love you," he gave her a small smile and turned away, not willing to look at the girl he loves boarding the train that will take her away from him forever.

Jungkook fell down to his knees as he hear the sound of the train drove away, taking along his heart away with it. He sat there on the floor, crying his heart out.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!"

Jungkook wiped his eyes. Is he dreaming? That sounds like...

He turns around to see Y/N still standing there, wind blowing her hair and face a wet mess with tears, but never looking as beautiful as she did in this moment.

"Y..Y/N?"

"How can you just let me go like that!" Y/N walks closer and hit his chest. "You promised me that night. You promised me that you wont stop chasing me Jungkook. Did you already give up on me?" She cried out. Jungkook grabbed her tiny wrists, halting her from continuosly hitting his chest. He pulled her into a hug and buried his face in her hair while her cries is muffled by his broad chest.

"N..no. I would never give up on you baby. I would never," he whispered. "But I promised you that I wont do anything to hurt you ever again. And being with me is what hurts you Y/N," he sniffled. Y/N pulled her face from his chest to look at him.

"You are an idiot. You are really an idiot Jeon Jungkook," she starts to hit his chest again. "How can you ever think for a moment that I would be happy without you? You may have broken my heart into pieces Jungkook, but without you, I wont ever be able to piece it back together. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but that is what I am. An idiot for you," her tears starts to flow again. "I love you so much Jungkook. I love you. Please. Please promise me that you will love me. You will keep on fighting for me this time. You will stop hurting me," her voice soft as she begged, breaking Jungkook's heart. Never again would he want to hear his love begged to be loved by him.

"Baby," he cupped her cheeks and wiped her tears with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. But I promise this time I wont ever do anything to hurt you ever again. If I could turn back time, I would take away all the pain I have put you through. I will fight for you everyday. Even when you are mine, I will still fight for you. I wont ever take you for granted ever again. I will cherished you, love you, worship you,"

"Just promise me you wont hurt me ever again. Just promise me Jungkook,"

"I promise baby. I swear with my life that I will do everything I can to make you happy with me," he kissed her forehead. "Thankyou for taking me back baby. Thankyou for giving me a chance. Thankyou for staying,"

"I have never left Jungkook. Because you have taken my heart from the very first moment we met, and you never did give it back. So in here," she pokes his heart, "is where I will stay, forever,"

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