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egcdeath · 8 months ago

Text

off the beaten path

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: what could go wrong with a non-refundable honeymoon and a broken engagement?

warnings: MATURE (mentions of sex but no sex scenes), exes to lovers, idiots to lovers angst, fluff, there was only one bed MULTIPLE times, jealousy!! (like a lot), slow burn, no use of y/n, so much use of the word fuck, a little toxicity, some facts about landmarks are inaccurate for the plot, lots of arguing and making up, miscommunication, seasickness, patrick & reader kinda have no social awareness, a lot of hotels and buses, alcohol, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

word count: 18.4k

author’s note: this was so much longer than i expected it to be, but i loved writing it so so much and i'm gonna be sad to see this pairing go! also, a special thank you to the tour website whose itinerary i used for their trip. i hope you enjoy!

JFK AIRPORT

You scrolled endlessly on your phone as you sat at your gate, trying your hardest to fight off the combination of sleepiness and anxiety that had been slowly creeping up on you for the past hour.

You should be happy—excited to spend the next month of your life traveling throughout Europe on the trip that you had dreamt about since you were a child. Instead, you were filled with dread at the prospect of your quickly approaching trip, leaving your leg bouncing and your eyes flitting between the device in your hands and the entrance of the gate, anxiously anticipating the arrival of a man that you really really did not want to see.

Once it was announced that first class was boarding, you quickly hopped out of your uncomfortable seat, hoping that if you boarded quick enough, you might be able to miss your unwanted companion. As you stood in line, you tried your best to be casual about your endlessly swiveling head and wondered if it was too late to simply call the whole thing off.

Boarding had gone smoothly enough, and as you settled into your seat, you still hadn’t seen any sign of your former fiancé. For a second, a spark of hope lit up in you. Maybe you’d get to experience Europe without that pest in your ear after all. Maybe you could even arrange a friend to come fly out and be with you for a few days, or find someone to have a romantic summer fling with.

But just as soon as your hope arrived, it departed with the sound of a familiar voice walking down the aisle and directly towards you.

“They wouldn’t let me switch my seat.”

You couldn’t believe that those were the choice of words the man you’d intended to spend the rest of your life with had decided to start with. After months of radio silence. No apologies, no awkward small talk, no sugar-coated words about your situation, just a complaint about the conditions the two of you would be in for the next eight hours. Classic Patrick.

“That’s too bad,” you replied, already annoyed by his presence. You had underestimated how much of a challenge this trip was going to be, solely based on the speed at which your negative feelings had come to the surface.

“Yeah, no shit,” he muttered under his own breath, putting some luggage into the overhead bin above your seats.

“You’re the one who insisted we still go,” you argued, not wanting him to get the last word—even if his last words were meant to be a snarky comment to himself more than anything else.

“The hotels, tours, and all the other tickets were non-refundable!” he argued right back to you.

“So?” you shot back like a petulant child.

“So I didn’t want to waste your money.”

“Oh, how considerate,” you scoffed sarcastically before beginning once more. “You’re rich! You don’t even have to be here!”

“Just because my family is comfortable doesn’t mean I want to waste my money.”

You openly rolled your eyes at his words. Comfortable was the understatement of the century. “So you didn’t actually want to waste my money. You didn’t want to waste your own.”

“Why can’t it be both?” he asked, sounding exasperated by your line of thinking. You hated when he did that. You kind of hated most things he did now. Maybe you just hated him.

“I never said it can’t be both, I just think you should stop trying to act like you’re so charitable for doing me a favor. As if our relationship wasn’t filled with me doing you favors.”

“Do you really want to be having this conversation right now?” he asked.

“Sorry, you’re right. We have the next thirty-five days to talk about it.”

The two of you sighed in a synchronized breath at the mention of the amount of time you had to spend together. You hated that the two of you were still in rhythm after everything you’d been through. Or maybe you just hated Patrick.

“Who plans a thirty-five day honeymoon anyway?” he huffed.

“Us, apparently. I mean, you were all for it, what? A few months ago?”

“Only because you wanted it.

“Oh, how could I forget. The ever-charitable Patrick Zweig. Taking a month-long break from hitting balls to be with me. I’m forever in your debt,” you mocked with a dramatic hand to your forehead. “At this rate, you’re gonna send me a list of all of the nice things you’ve ever done for me. What do you want me to say? Thank you for doing the bare minimum as a boyfriend?”

“Fiancé,” he corrected you, earning a very nasty side eye from you in the process of doing so.

You were beginning to get dirty looks from your fellow first class passengers, which temporarily shut the both of you up. It was never a good idea to piss off people on a plane. You didn’t want to end up on the no-fly list just because you couldn’t bite your tongue around your ex.

“Remember when you said we could still be friends after this?” Patrick spoke once more after your moment of silence.

“Of course I remember, but you stopped that from happening when you…” your voice trailed off as you made eye contact with a very displeased looking middle aged woman “Whatever. Let’s just… try to get through this flight. And try not to make any more of a scene.”

“Fine,” he replied, shrugging in your peripheral vision.

“Fine,” you said back, not wanting him to have the last word.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing where you think you win every argument just because you said the last thing.”

“I’m not doing that,” you lied. “You think you know me so well.”

A familiar agitated smile broke out on his face, something that you unfortunately missed seeing. “I do know you well, though. I see right through you.”

“You actually don’t, though.”

“I do,” he insisted, the smirk creeping onto his face telling you that he knew you were actively proving his point.

“Not really,” you dismissed and attempted to casually pull the headphones that were currently sitting on your neck up to cover your ears. You were always grateful to have noise-canceling headphones when you were traveling, but they were coming particularly in handy for you to win this argument. You tried to hide your self-satisfied smirk as you pressed play on your phone, but you could instantly tell that you were failing.

When you looked back up, Patrick was clearly saying words to you that you weren’t able to hear. Knowing him, he was probably saying something along the lines of, “Real mature.”

The truth was that he wanted the last word more than you did–which made it particularly rewarding when you gestured to your headphones before throwing your hands out in a shrug to indicate to him that you couldn’t hear him.

Your vacation was already off to a chaotic start. You couldn’t help but fear what the next thirty-five days would be like.

BARCELONA, SPAIN

Despite the flight only being eight hours long, you were absolutely exhausted by the time that you checked into your hotel room. So exhausted that you failed to remember to request to switch rooms to one with two beds rather than one.

This predicament only came to the forefront of your mind once you and Patrick had already swiped into the room, suitcases lying on the floor and one king-sized mattress presented in front of you.

“Should I go back down to the front desk?” he asked as he looked from you to the bed.

“I’m too tired to get a new room,” you replied. You could handle one night next to your ex. You’d slept in a bed together for years. Granted, during those years you were also sleeping together, but this wasn’t all that different.

“Fine. Don’t complain if I hog blankets, then.”

“Fine,” you replied. “Just stay on your side of the bed.”

You shucked your backpack from your shoulders and walked over to what was typically the side of the bed where you slept when the two of you had been a couple. Not wasting any time to get ready for bed, you began to take off your clothes and search for your pajamas. Once you glanced over your shoulder, you were quite displeased to find Patrick rather openly ogling at you.

“Stop looking at me,” you demanded.

“What? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He said with a smirk.

“You’re such a creep,” you muttered, throwing on an old shirt and crawling into bed.

As you laid in bed and texted your friends and family that you’d arrived at your hotel safely, you took a peek of your own at your former partner as he got ready for bed. He seemed to be going with his classic bedtime attire of just boxers. Bold move.

Your eyes were momentarily stuck on his abs and enticing happy trail. You’d planned your trip during Patrick’s off season while he was training for his upcoming season, so you were pleasantly unsurprised that he was in such good shape. Your breath caught for a second as you thought about the rest of him, and you desperately tried to repress the low, fiery feeling rising in your stomach.

“And I’m the creep?” he asked with a laugh, pulling you away from your objectification as he got into bed next to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, as if you hadn’t just given him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Well… like what you see?”

You scoffed at his audacity, though you did like what you saw. “I’m not fucking you. Goodnight.”

You hit the light on your nightstand and you swore you heard a quiet sound of disappointment come from Patrick. Bastard.

You turned your back to him and closed your eyes, finding that sleep took you under surprisingly easily.

When you woke up in the morning, you were greeted by a far too familiar feeling. Despite your request for Patrick to stay on his side of the bed, the slow, steady breaths being breathed into your ear and the solid wall of body behind you indicated that he had not only traveled into your space over the course of the night, but was actively spooning you.

You were shocked to find that you didn’t necessarily mind it. Yes, you were mad at Patrick for everything that had gone down between you, and because he was such a pain in the ass, but you also hadn’t realized just how much you missed being held. Particularly, how much you missed being held by him.

The more alert you became, the more you realized that you couldn’t really move. Despite that, you found that you didn’t really want to move. Sure, you were beginning to get uncomfortably hot, and yes, you could feel Patrick’s morning wood pressing against your ass, but none of it was particularly unpleasant.

Part of you wondered if your trip would go differently than you expected. Regardless of how you acted towards one another, you clearly both missed each other.

Your shrill phone alarm suddenly went off, startling Patrick awake behind you.

“Mmm, fuck, sorry,” he sleepily slurred as he rolled away from you. You turned over to look at his tired face, eyes still lidded and speckled face looking far softer than you remembered.

Out of the blue, he opened his eyes, catching you in the act of looking at him with barely-concealed affection. Before he could make some sort of snarky comment, he shot out of bed, adjusted his boxers, and made an urgent beeline towards the bathroom. All of which would’ve been far funnier if his actions hadn’t been disrupted by the loud message ping of his cellphone.

You weighed out your options. You were curious about what was waiting for him on his phone, but you weren’t sure that you’d have time to properly snoop. As if the universe was listening to your thoughts, the sound of the shower began, telling you that you had all the time that you needed to do some adequate investigation.

You wondered who was texting Patrick so early in the morning. Knowing him, it was probably his mother, checking in to make sure he made it to his destination safely. You were sure that whatever message she left would also be inquiring about you. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for you, especially compared to some of the other people that Patrick had brought home. That, of course, was an observation shared to you from Patrick, so you couldn’t be sure how much of it was flattery compared to truth.

Regardless, her fondness for you had carried into the end of your relationship, with her occasionally messaging or calling you to make sure that you were still doing well, and more importantly, to check in on the status of your relationship.

Much like you and your friends, she’d been holding out hope that your relationship may repair itself. With you and Patrick being as passionate as the two of you were, you were no strangers to seemingly serious arguments that resolved themselves in a matter of days. While calling off a wedding was far more drastic than any of your other disputes had been, after being together for years, it was hard to imagine a world where the two of you weren’t a couple.

But his call never came. You didn’t hear an apology or explanation or even an excuse from Patrick—just a suggestion of when you should pick up the items you’d left at his place.

You hated to admit it, but there was a naïve part of you that was still holding out hope that this trip would be exactly what you needed to reconcile. And maybe that naïeve part of you was less delusional than you might’ve originally thought. Surely cuddling into the morning and Patrick’s poorly hidden morning wood were signs that this vacation was already going in the right direction. Maybe being in such close proximity was exactly the push you needed to get your relationship back on track.

After a halfhearted internal debate, you grabbed his phone from the night stand on his side of the bed. Attempting the passcode he’d been using while you were together—the digits of your birthday—you were pleased to find that the password hadn’t changed and that you were granted access into his phone. What you weren’t expecting to see was Tinder on the homepage of his cracked device.

You paused for a moment and attempted to reason with yourself. Your former fiancé probably didn’t even use the app. He’d likely been pressured by his rebound-obsessed friends to download it, and hadn’t even opened the app since setting up his profile. Besides, you didn’t get on his phone to see what new apps he’d downloaded, you were snooping to see what his mom had to say about you.

When you opened his messages app, your mouth promptly fell open in shock. Patrick had always been loyal to you—at least to your knowledge—while the two of you were together. Seeing him be so openly flirtatious and suggestive with an attractive woman that you hadn’t ever heard of was more than jarring.

Your stomach churned as you scrolled through the conversation, flirty messages and images from both sides that left little to the imagination disturbing you in a way that you hadn’t ever realized was possible.

In the midst of your distraught state, you nearly missed the background noise of the shower coming to a halt, informing you that your time snooping had come to an end.

You set his phone back down where you’d found it and desperately tried to push down the bile in your throat that was tasting more and more like jealousy and anger by the second.

You knew it was irrational for you to be feeling this way, considering that the two of you had been broken up for a few months. Nothing legally or morally tied the two of you together anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any less unsettled by what you’d just seen.

It was just that… you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fully move on from Patrick. He’d been part of your life for so long, and the way things ended had been so abrupt that it almost didn’t feel real. Even if you did move on, it was going to take you more than three months to do so. It wasn’t fair that Patrick’s name seemed to pop up every week in your therapy sessions, while he was sending pictures of himself in gray sweatpants to random hot women.

You wanted to shrink into the mattress and never come back up. You wanted to yell at Patrick the moment he stepped out of the bathroom. You wanted to turn on your side and wail dramatically, at least until all of your big feelings felt a little smaller.

But you were in Europe on vacation. You were on vacation, damnit, and you weren’t going to let one mildly disturbing text thread ruin your entire experience. Better yet, if Patrick was already moving on, there was no reason that you shouldn’t do the same.

You told yourself this as you rolled out of bed and dug in your suitcase, pulling out a sundress that had driven Patrick wild in the past. While you may have packed it with less than realistic expectations, your goal was far more grounded now.

Both of you could play this game.

You stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed after a shower of your own and instantly registered the almost cartoonish look he was giving you. You guessed that some things never changed, even when the two of you had decided to actively pursue other people.

“The tour guide said to meet in the lobby soon, so I’m gonna head down,” you explained, not giving him a second look as you began to search for your purse.

“The tour doesn’t start for another half hour?” he replied, sitting up from where he was laying on the bed.

“Well I wanna socialize with the people we’re gonna be traveling through Europe with,” you said a little snappily, still a little perturbed about what you’d found on his phone earlier. You conveniently left out the fact that you wanted to scope out any potential summer flings.

“I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

“You really don’t have to. Remember, this isn’t actually a honeymoon,” you slipped on some comfortable shoes and headed to the door. “I’ll see you around.”

You were probably being far more rude than you really needed to be, but your anger had only intensified as you showered and put on makeup. At this point, you were fully pissed—even if you didn’t have the right to be.

You made small talk with the people you met in the lobby as they began to filter into the room, and tried your absolute best to dispel the anger that was flowing through your veins. That proved harder than you anticipated, as Patrick was one of the last people to join you all in the lobby, and for the life of you, you couldn’t stop imagining him sitting in your shared hotel room and sexting his mystery girl.

Luckily, you couldn’t dwell on that ugly thought for too long, as your tour began soon after. Your friendly guide took your group around the city, explaining rather riveting information about the landmarks you visited and the city itself.

After being dismissed for a quick break, you found yourself sitting on a bench and chatting with a man in your group. He wasn’t really your type, but he was extremely conventionally attractive, and from the peripheral glances you caught of Patrick, you could tell that he wasn’t exactly pleased with what was going on.

While making him jealous, or annoyed, or whatever it was that he was feeling, wasn’t your expressed goal, it did feel nice to give him a taste of his own medicine. What felt less nice was glancing over and catching him typing on his phone furiously. You could only imagine whose boobs were on the other end of the line.

Reacting out of a bit of desperation and frustration, you began to play things up. You leaned over more to show off more cleavage, laughed a little harder at jokes that weren’t all that funny, and set a scandalous hand on his arm. You were determined to have that vacation fling now, and you were going to get it by any means necessary.

You laid it on thick for the rest of the afternoon, sitting next to him during lunch and flirting casually with him as your group walked through Park Güell.

You wondered if he noticed you throwing glances in Patrick’s direction after every interaction. You hoped that he didn’t.

It felt good to be getting even with Patrick—but not as good as you expected it to feel. The realization sunk in as a portion of your group visited a bar that was apparently very popular with the locals. Or at least, that’s what a very handsome man purred into your ear after sitting down next to you at the bar.

You’d been keeping an eye on Patrick as he socialized with a couple that he’d been talking to for the majority of your day, but you almost instantly lost track of him as you became consumed with this handsome stranger.

Everything happened in a bit of a blur—one moment you’d been nursing a Marianito, and the next you were holding the hand of a man whose name you couldn’t remember as he led you to his apartment.

By the time you’d left his apartment, you were nothing short of a mess. You were pretty sure that the only way you could’ve been more obvious about what had just happened to you was if you had the words “JUST HAD SEX” written across your forehead—and with the way the people in your hotel elevator were looking at you, you couldn’t be completely sure that those words weren’t on your face.

You made it back to your room safely, quietly opening the door and doing your best not to make too much noise, since at this hour, Patrick was surely asleep.

It did feel weird to be going back to his bed less than an hour after you’d been with another man, but you couldn’t necessarily say you felt bad. Patrick had started it, and you simply finished it off. If he didn’t have any issues with seeing other people, there was no reason for you to have an issue with it either.

Your efforts to be quiet had proved themselves to be for naught, as Patrick was very clearly wide awake, sitting up in bed and already looking at you disapprovingly.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to speak, rather than ignoring his presence and heading straight to the shower, but your mouth was open before you could stop yourself.

“Were you just gonna wait here until I got back, like I’m a kid who just snuck out or something?” you asked in disbelief, partially annoyed because of his action, but more ashamed to have been caught in such a state. It couldn’t have been more obvious to Patrick what you’d just done, considering that he’d seen you in a similar state hundreds of times.

“Baby, we are on a whole different, unfamiliar continent,” his tone was condescending and cold and it made you want to crawl out of your skin. “Why wouldn’t I wait to make sure you got back safely?”

“Don’t call me pet names. And I would’ve been fine. We were just at the bar,” you lied. Going to the apartment of a random man you just met probably wasn’t your brightest idea, but you made it out alive, and that was what mattered.

“Huh. The bar?” he smirked at you in a way that screamed that he was pissed, without really having to say a word.

“Yes, I- what does it matter to you anyway?” you hoped that the question would be enough to get you out of the situation. If you were going to argue, you at least wanted to argue after you were showered and in pajamas.

“What does it matter to me if you fucked someone else?” he asked, sounding like he was in complete disbelief.

“Yeah, Patrick. Why does it matter if I fucked someone else? We’re not together anymore. Did you forget? I mean, it seemed pretty obvious to you when you stopped speaking to me completely a few months ago.”

“Please, enlighten me. What did I have to speak to you about?”

“I don’t know! Maybe an ‘are you okay?’ would’ve been nice. Or something. Anything, really. We were together for six fucking years and you just dropped me like I was dirt!”

“I…” he trailed off, catching you by surprise. He almost always had a quick clever response that managed to piss you off in a way no one else ever could, so seeing him not knowing what to say next caught you off guard. “If our relationship meant that much to you, why were you all over that guy? I mean, seriously. I’ve never seen anything so desperate. You were practically rubbing yourself on him in the park like a bitch in heat.”

Contempt dripped from his words. You had never been so enraged.

“Are you joking?” you laughed out of sheer anger. “Patrick, you started it! How many Tinder girls have you seen since we broke up? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me. I saw everything you’ve been sending to Amelia. Amelia, I’m so lonely. Amelia, I’m so horny. Amelia, I love you so much,” you mocked.

“You went through my phone?” he asked in disbelief, not even bothering to address the rest of your statement. “Fuck. You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable? How long did it even take you before we split for you to start seeing other people? I mean, knowing you, you were probably just waiting for the day we broke up to go get your dick wet.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” for a second, he looked genuinely wounded—something you were only able to recognize after years of being in a relationship with the man. You didn’t like that you were actively hurting him, but he’d been inflicting pain on you from the moment you broke up.

“Fine,” you conceded on that front, knowing that he was right. It wasn’t completely true. If you hadn’t gone through his phone, you never would’ve guessed that he had already moved on. “But you’ve still been seeing other people.”

“We’ve been broken up for months now,” he replied, as if that was supposed to make things any better or more reasonable.

“Then why do you care so much about me having sex with someone else? It’s fine when you do it, but suddenly it’s an issue for me?”

Patrick’s face immediately paled. “You really fucked him?”

“Well, yeah,” you paused. “Well, not who you’re thinking of.”

“You fucked someone else?!” The hurt and disbelief buried under his words made your stomach churn. “You were flirting with that other douchebag all day, I don’t-“

“You’re acting like I’m some whore for reacting to something that you did first!” you cut him off.

“And you’re acting like I wanted to get rid of you this whole time!” he shot back out at you.

“Clearly you fucking did,” you hissed.

“Fuck you,” he huffed.

“Fuck you,” you shot right back. “I’m leaving.”

“Good,” Patrick replied with a shrug as if he didn’t care, although you were very sure that he cared. “Go run back to your little fuck buddy.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” you replied as you gathered your items back into your suitcase. “He was better than you, by the way.”

“Yeah, I bet,” he said snarkily as he watched you pack up your items. Luckily, you didn’t have much to pack up and were already heading towards the door.

“He had a bigger dick, too,” you said as you swung open the hotel room door, fully satisfied with a lie that you knew would bother Patrick.

While leaving your hotel room seemed like a wonderful idea in the moment, as you went down the elevator, you started to realize that you really did not have many options for where you’d sleep that night.

You figured your best bet was the hotel lobby. Maybe you could pretend to be someone who’d drank too much and passed out on the first floor before you made it up to your room. You sat down in a comfortable looking chair and grabbed your keycard—in case anyone asked you to verify who you were—then set a floppy hat on your head to cover your face from the bright hotel lobby lights while you attempted to sleep.

Sleep was already going to be difficult to accomplish, thanks to the argument that you were certainly going to be ruminating on for days to come. That was only made more difficult by the uncomfortable seating and position you’d found yourself in. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep, being woken up by a hotel employee and a friend you’d made from your tour group.

“Long night, huh?” she asked you with a playful smirk.

“Mm, something like that,” you mumbled sleepily.

“Well, you can sleep on the coach. It just got here, so we’ll have the best pick of seats. C’mon,” she extended her hand out to you and you gladly took it, in desperate need of something grounding.

You dozed off on the coach once you’d gotten settled, headphones securely on your ears and sunglasses covering your closed eyes. You were vaguely aware of people boarding the vehicle around you, but didn’t pay much mind to anything. Eventually, you heard the faint sound of someone taking attendance of the people on the bus, followed by the commotion of someone getting on the bus late.

Something compelled you to open up your eyes, and when you did, you were displeased to find that Patrick was the source of all of the drama. Likely thing for him to be. He scrambled down the aisle, looking desperately for empty seats. To your own horror, you realized that the seat next to you was vacant, and perhaps the only vacant seat on the entire coach.

As if your minds were connected, you watched Patrick face that very same dilemma as he eventually decided to sit down in the only empty seat, right next to you.

Neither of you said anything at first, not addressing your blowout argument the previous night, or your awkward current situation.

“You look like shit,” Patrick finally said as the bus took off.

“Thanks,” you replied, mentally preparing yourself for a continuation of the argument you’d had just a few hours ago. It was only a matter of time before he brought up your promiscuity or started blatantly texting his Tinderella.

But none of that ever came. In fact, he just looked a little sad. It was weird to see Patrick so openly defeated. He was always one to put on a smirk or a challenging smile when you argued, letting the façade fall once he was alone, or once the two of you finally discussed what the issue was like adults.

You weren’t sure that you liked it. You preferred annoying asshole Patrick to sad, moping Patrick.

“You look like shit, too,” you added. “Which is crazy, since you had access to a shower and I didn’t.”

“And whose fault is that?” he asked, looking at you with the slightest hint of that devious smile. You had to fight the slightest inkling of a smile on your own face.

You felt ridiculous knowing that your mood was still being influenced by your former partner. Even when he was insulting you. Even after he’d spent the night arguing with you. Even after you’d slept with someone else. Even after the two of you had a messy split.

You still loved him.

“Yours, mostly,” you shrugged and put your headphones back on.

PARIS, FRANCE

Despite your brief conversation on the bus, you and Patrick didn’t speak to each other for the entirety of your commute. Although you clearly cared about him, it didn’t change the fact that he had upset and hurt you deeply. And even as upset as you were, you knew that you’d hurt him just as badly.

You had a particular dread for what awaited you in France, knowing that this part of the tour was very couples-activity heavy. When you’d scheduled your trip, this aspect of the tour felt like a major selling point. The two of you always seemed to be falling more in love with each other, and having a candlelit dinner by the Eiffel Tower felt like an exciting way to kick off your marriage.

Now, you just felt like an idiot.

The two of you did your absolute best to avoid getting paired up with each other for all of the activities that you could. You found yourself spending most of your time with a solo traveler who was close in age to you. She made a surprisingly fun companion to your cheese and wine taste test, popping cubes of fragrant cheese into your mouth and making a competition out of who could detect the most accurate notes in your wine.

While you found luck in your first few activities, you weren’t so lucky when it came to an evening ride of the Roue de Paris. Whether it was fate or just bad luck, after the pair in front of you had dipped out of line for reasons unknown to you, you had the shocking realization that Patrick had been in between them the whole time. So much for meeting new people on the massive ferris wheel.

You tried to look busy so he wouldn’t notice that you noticed, and did your best to think of some sort of game plan. Although you’d essentially been giving each other the silent treatment in the hours leading up to this moment, you’d caught Patrick looking at you multiple times throughout the day—something you only noticed because you’d been looking at him as well.

After a moment, the two of you were let into an empty passenger car. Sitting across from one another, it was hard to ignore the very obvious elephants in the room, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.

At first, you simply looked out the window, not saying a single word as the ferris wheel began to move.

“You should put that safety belt on, just in case,” Patrick commented from his side of the car, pulling his eyes away from the window to look at you.

“I doubt anything will happen,” you shrugged. “It’s fine.”

He eyed you suspiciously for a moment, before leaning over and strapping you in anyway. Your breath caught in your throat, his simple action putting you into serious psychological pain. It wasn’t lost on you how much Patrick liked to take care of you. It was far more obvious when the two of you were dating, with him covering the bills for dates and doing your laundry for you. It had been so ironic to you at the time, how a man who could barely take care of himself always went out of his way to make sure that you were going to be okay.

Now, his small act of kindness just made your stomach turn. But it wasn’t like you could express any of those feelings.

“Thanks,” was all that you managed before looking out of the window once more.

An awkward, heavy silence filled the passenger car once more as the ride began to take the two of you higher.

“The view is so beautiful,” you commented, unable to remain silent anymore and hoping that your words were neutral enough not to stir any pots.

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” his gaze remained fixed out the window, before he looked at you once more as if there were words on the tip of his tongue.

“I honestly don’t know how we managed to get in line in time to see the sunset,” you continued with your boring, neutral small talk.

“I’m glad we did. This is the perfect spot to watch it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, continuing to look out the window instead of at the man across from you. “It’s so pretty tonight, too.”

“It is,” he agreed.

The two of you sat in silence again, only the sound of a soft whirring filling your ears. Then suddenly, all at once, the whirring stopped—and so did your passenger car.

“Are we stuck?” you asked, looking out nervously at the very tall height that the two of you were currently definitely stuck at.

“We can’t be. It’ll probably start back up in a second.”

It didn’t start back up in a second. In fact, after a series of announcements in French, an announcement in English suddenly declared that it would be at least an hour before the ride could be fixed.

At the sound of the announcement, both you and Patrick sighed aloud, still synchronized even after everything you’d been through.

“Maybe this is a sign,” Patrick piped up.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed at him, hoping desperately that this didn’t mean that he wanted to continue arguing with you. You genuinely did not have it in you to do so again. You also didn’t have it in you to sleep in another hotel lobby.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day,” he confessed.

“Is that why you were staring at me all day?” you teased, a weak, slightly hopeful smile creeping onto your face.

“I was looking at you because I could feel you staring at me,” he clarified, as if he was setting the record straight. “I don’t want things to be like this between us anymore.”

“Yeah?” you asked, the pit of nerves in your stomach tightening at wherever he was going with his spiel. The anticipation of his words alone made you nauseous.

“So I think that we should talk about last night,” he suggested.

That was exactly what you didn’t want to hear him say. You had barely processed the argument yourself, let alone think about anything else that you had to say to Patrick that didn’t involve trying to hurt him as much as he hurt you.

“We don’t have to. It’s fine. The past is in the past,” you dismissed.

“It’s not fine, though. Not really,” he countered, all earnestness. You didn’t detect any harshness to his words or any blood in the water that indicated to you that he wanted to do anything more than have an honest conversation with you. “I was so out of line. I can’t- I don’t want you to think that I really believe the things I said about you.”

“Patrick, please…” you trailed off, hoping that he would understand that you didn’t really want to talk about this. Though, you were relieved to learn that he’d only said those things out of the heat of the moment.

“No,” he stood his ground. “We need to talk about this if we ever want our relationship to improve.”

“Fine,” you gave in. “But you start, so I can collect my thoughts.”

“Of course,” he leaned forward so he could get a better look at you, and you were immediately drawn into some intense eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did, and I really shouldn’t have let you leave our hotel room. That was really stupid of me. I worried about you for the rest of the night and spent the morning looking for you.”

This was surprising information to you. While you did find it to be a bit of a dick move that Patrick would just let you leave like that after lecturing you about being unsafe in a new country, you hadn’t realized that he’d been late to boarding the coach because he’d been searching for you. You could only imagine the sick feeling he had as he realized he couldn’t find you anywhere.

“I’m sorry for what I said, too. Insulting you for trying to move on was really unfair of me. I was just… hurt, I guess. When I don’t even have the right to be.”

“You do, a little. We were together for a really long time, so it’s gonna feel weird that we’re starting to see other people,” you shrugged. “That was an excellent apology, that I accept, by the way.”

“Thank you. I really got a chance to practice my apology skills with the last woman I was with,” he explained. You tried to repress the feeling of jealousy that was already bubbling up in your stomach at the mention of another woman.

“Yeah?” you asked, hoping that he didn’t notice the brief twitch of your eye.

“Yeah. She’s super opinionated and outspoken, so we would butt heads a lot. But that was always something I really liked about her. That, and her magnificent ass.”

Finally, it occurred to you that he was talking about you. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, despite the fact that you were secretly very flattered by the way he was speaking about you. “Ew. Shut up,” you laughed.

“Well, if you’re done objectifying me, I would love to apologize to you too.”

“All done objectifying you. For now, at least. Go ahead.”

You were a little nervous about the words that were about to come out of your mouth. You just had so much to say, and you weren’t sure that it was all going to come out correctly.

“I’m sorry for the things I said last night. I genuinely did not mean what I said, I just got caught up in the moment. And I’m really sorry for going through your phone, because that’s seriously none of my business. It was such an unnecessary violation of trust, and I understand if you’re still pissed at me for that. And it was really ridiculous for me to overreact the way that I did over you seeing someone else, because again, it’s really not my business. I feel like I’m kinda the worst,” you confessed.

“You’re not the worst,” he countered.

“Fine, I guess. Maybe you just bring the worst out in me,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

“That sounds more accurate. We bring out the worst in each other.”

“Right. That’s why we’re such a good pair,” you paused, then corrected yourself. “Of friends.”

“Is that what we are now?”

“I never said we were good friends.”

“Frenemies?”

“Something like that,” you said, before the familiar whirring sound of the ferris wheel began once more.

“Huh. Who would’ve thought that the only thing the wheel needed to function was an apology to each other?”

“You’re so annoying,” you laughed and shook your head. “How are we gonna make it through the rest of this trip?”

LONDON, ENGLAND

Your final few days in France had been made far less awkward by your conversation on the ferris wheel. Deciding to fully embrace the couples activities the tour had reserved for you, the two of you were having a good time re-establishing your friendship.

Your trip to London had gone mostly without a hitch, with your group arriving in the city in the evening and immediately checking in to your hotel. At this point, you had given up on even attempting to get separate beds. It seemed like every morning now you woke up cuddling with Patrick, but you weren’t necessarily mad at the unintentional intimacy.

In some ways, your relationship was beginning to feel similar to how it felt before the two of you broke up. While you were sure that things wouldn’t be exactly the same—especially since you still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room that was your breakup—it was nice to return to the comfort you’d found in your relationship with Patrick.

Like clockwork, the morning after your arrival in London, you woke up with Patrick pressed up against your back, nose buried in your hair. As he woke up, he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline out of what you were sure was just habit rather than genuine affection.

“Morning,” he greeted you groggily, rolling away from your side.

“Morning,” you replied, turning to face him. You ran a hand through his messy morning hair and looked at him fondly. It was taking far more self control than you had to not lean over and kiss him. “What time is it?” you asked, in part to distract yourself, but also because the digital clock was on his side of the bed.

“It’s…” he trailed off as he went to read the time. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be late.”

“What?” you asked, shooting up from your relaxed position.

“It’s 8:25,” he explained, already rolling out of bed.

In a rush, the two of you got dressed in record time, making it down to the lobby in the five minutes that you had to make it on time. You shared a high-five in the lobby, and tried your best not to dwell on how the simple action felt far more domestic than it needed to.

Your tour began not too long after that, getting your day off to a strong start. Your day of exploring London was by far your busiest. You were sure that you’d accumulated thousands of steps as you went between large museums, beautiful parks, and massive landmarks. By the time that you returned to your hotel room, you were pretty sure that your legs were mush.

You returned earlier than Patrick, who had gone out to a gastropub with a group of tourists in your group that he got along well with. You took this as an opportunity to have some alone time, taking a long and steaming hot shower, frolicking around the room in a soft hotel robe, and watching a movie while you waited for your room service to arrive.

After you’d thoroughly enjoyed your alone time, finishing off your room service and opting to scroll on your phone, the door cracked open and Patrick strolled in.

“Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he observed.

“I had to after today’s tour. So much walking,” you groaned.

“It wasn’t all that bad,” he shrugged, sitting down next to you in bed.

“Well, not all of us are professional athletes,” you laughed. “How was the pub?”

“Fun. It’d be better if you came.”

“I’m sorry, I was exhausted,” you sighed. “You could’ve stayed in with me and had a spa day.”

“We can have a spa day anywhere. We can have a spa day right now.”

“Mm, I’m all spa’d out. But the water pressure in the shower is excellent, so you should definitely check that out.”

“I will in a little bit,” he said. “Did you try out the actual spa here?”

“They were closed when I checked, which really sucks, since I was in desperate need of a massage.”

“Do you still want one?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah. I’ll probably try to stop by when they’re open tomorrow and get one.”

“No, I mean, do you want a massage now?” he added.

It had been a long time since Patrick had offered you a massage—or to put his hands on you in any capacity—but you remembered him being criminally talented at giving them. You also remembered his massages usually making for great foreplay that left your knees weak and your brain a pile of jelly, but that clearly wouldn’t be the case now, and you needed to get your head out of the gutter.

“I mean, sure. That would be nice,” you tried not to sound too excited, though the prospect of a massage from him sounded very, very nice.

While the prospect of a massage sounded nice, the actual massage was heavenly. You were sure that years of having personal trainers and physical therapists work knots out of his body had made him an expert at finding knots and kinks in your own, which was now leaving you sighing happily as he ran his hands over your back.

You tried your best to ignore the dull, fiery feeling growing in your lower stomach that was surely a result of experiencing a type of intimacy that you hadn’t in quite some time. As you let out an involuntary soft sound at a particular knot being rubbed out of your shoulder, you wondered if this massage was affecting him nearly as much as it was affecting you.

You promptly received an answer to this question when something hard and phallic brushed up against your leg. You turned your head to glance back at Patrick, and his face immediately grew red.

“Sorry. I can stop, if you want. It just happened because of the noises you’re making and- whatever. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Part of you felt a little satisfied knowing that you still had that type of impact on him. It gave you a tiny glimmer of hope to know that you were still, at the least, physically attracted to one another.

“It’s fine. I’ll shut up.”

“You don’t have to. I want this to be as relaxing as possible for you.”

“Well you’re doing a great job, if you couldn’t tell from all of the moaning and groaning on my end.”

You both somehow made it through the rest of the massage without spilling all over the bed, but as you melted into the bed, feeling every muscle in your body relaxed from your excellent massage, you couldn’t help but note the suspiciously long time Patrick was spending in the shower. And maybe it was just your imagination, but if you listened hard enough, you swore you could hear the sound of a soft chanting of your name coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

While part of you regretted not suggesting that the two of you help each other out with your mutual problems, you were pretty sure that it was for the best. You genuinely didn’t know where the two of you stood, as far as your relationship went. Hooking up would surely further complicate an already complicated situation, since you were pretty sure that ex-fiancés didn’t typically sleep together. But then again, ex-fiancés also didn’t usually go on a honeymoon despite not being together. Your complicated feelings on the matter only further proved to you that you made the right choice by not giving in to your baser desires.

By the time Patrick joined you in bed, you were already half asleep. Yet, even in your delirious state, you didn’t miss the way he came up behind you, pulling you into a loving embrace. It brought warmth to your chest to know that he couldn’t even wait for your automatic sleep routine to hold you, and that he felt the need to take matters into his own hands.

You were pretty sure that exes didn’t do that either.

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

You didn’t know what you expected from your first ferry ride, but being face deep in a barf bag while soothing circles were rubbed into your back was certainly not it.

Given that you weren’t a frequent rider of large vessels on bodies of water, you had no clue going into the ride that things would go so sideways so quickly for you. If anything, you thought you might have the opportunity to stare peacefully out into the water, or to force Patrick to take a few cute pictures of you. Unfortunately, you were currently doing neither of those things—and it didn’t seem like you’d be doing them any time soon.

You heaved once more, now almost totally sure that you had nothing left to give. Patrick continued to hold your hair out of your face with one hand and use his other to comfortingly rub your back, not at all fazed by your sickness. If you weren’t currently fighting off another wave of nausea and didn’t have the taste of bile lingering in your mouth, you probably could’ve kissed the man.

Once your brain finally told you the coast was clear, you leaned your head back and took several deep, gasping breaths of air.

“You alright, honey?” he asked you, and you didn’t even have the strength—physical or mental—to correct his use of a pet name.

“I could be better,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tilted your head back. “There’s medicine for this, right?”

“Yeah. Let me go see if I can find some.”

As you fought off a war of nausea and headache that was currently beating you on all fronts, you could faintly hear the sound of Patrick asking the people around you if they had any medicine for motion sickness. He eventually returned after what felt like a lifetime, but was probably more like a few minutes, carrying a bottle of Dramamine.

He helped you take the pill, putting it in your mouth then holding a bottle of water up to your lips to help you swallow it. The action felt oddly romantic, though it was more of a matter of practicality compared to anything else. You were clearly not in a stable enough space to get the pill down on your own, so his assistance wasn’t really anything for you to be over analyzing.

“Look at you, keeping that down,” he teased, running his hand up and down your arm. The motion was soothing, a bit of bodily comfort amongst a plethora of other awful physical pains you were experiencing. “You’re doing great.”

His soft caresses turned into a full-blown hug, with Patrick pulling you into a tight embrace. While the action itself was rather cute—especially since it seemed to be completely impulsive on his part—it instantly brought on a new wave of nausea.

“Pat?” you squeaked.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“You’re sweet. But if we stay like this, I am going to be sick all over you.”

He pulled away from you with concern, careful not to move too quickly to set off another bout of sickness. While he let go of your body, he continued to hold your hand, as if he were attempting to ground you. With how anxious he was looking, he might’ve been trying to ground himself as well.

It was cute seeing him so worried about you. You tried your best not to read too much into it, and luckily, your slowly fading nausea was the perfect distraction from doing so.

“Thank you for the drugs. It was fun watching you scramble all around asking people for help. You’re such a good…” you paused, not really knowing what you were or what to say. “Ex.”

Now wasn’t exactly the ideal time to have the, ‘what are we?’ conversation, but Patrick didn’t seem to mind. And if he did mind, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it.

“Only the best for my ex.” Maybe you’d just been imaging it, but you swore you sensed a bit of hesitation on his end as he called you his ex. Admittedly, it would be significantly easier for both of you to be calling each other spouses, or even partners. But alas, you weren’t either of those things to each other anymore.

As if you’d read each other's minds, the two of you quickly moved on from that conversation.

After you’d arrived and gotten settled into Amsterdam, you set off to explore the city. When presented with a few options of things to do, Patrick insisted that the two of you go on a bike tour, much to your own chagrin. As much as you weren’t sure your legs could handle any more strenuous physical activity, you’d known that Patrick had wanted to take this bike tour since your trip was an actual honeymoon. Who were you to deny him of that?

As the two of you toured the very beautiful city, Patrick made sure to make a show out of his biking skills. While he was no professional cyclist, he certainly had the ego of one—which translated to him going a little too hard at times and nearly falling off of his bike more than once.

Each time he almost fell, you found yourself also almost falling, the onset of laughter at the ridiculous man riding next to you nearly being too much to handle. Without fail, every time the two of you did your almost falling, then break into a howling laughter routine, you were given dirty looks by your fellow tour mates. Unfortunately, that only made the situation funnier to you and Patrick.

By the time the tour had wrapped, it was clear that everyone was sick and tired of you. But at least this time, the people around you were sick of the girlish giggles Patrick pulled from you, rather than the rude words he provoked you into saying, like he’d done on the plane.

It was refreshing to be spending time with him like this. In the time that you’d been so upset about your break up, you forgot about just how good it felt to be around Patrick when your relationship was going well.

It was also nice to be spending some alone time with him, away from the rest of your tour group. As the two of you looked at strange knick-knacks in an antique store, you realized just how much you missed being alone with him. While it was nice that the two of you had made friends within your group, your dynamic as a duo was obviously something really special. Maybe that’s why the two of you had been together for so long.

You spent the majority of the afternoon doubled over in laughter, playfully teasing Patrick, or being on the receiving end of subtle, gentle touches. As you really began to think about it, this day of travel had been your favorite—by a long shot. It also happened to be the day that felt most like one from a honeymoon.

Although it had already been clear to you for some time that you still had feelings for Patrick, the day you had spent together had completely sealed the deal. Once Patrick had surprised you with a beautiful bouquet of flowers over dinner, you’d only been more sure that you were sick with love for your ex.

It was a small miracle that you’d rounded out the day without confessing your feelings, particularly since you ended the evening with a movie playing on the television of your hotel room that the two of you barely paid attention to, as Patrick held you and talked about some of the things you’d missed while the two of you were separated.

In the morning, you woke up to the soft sound of chatter, rather than your loud alarm clock or the sound of deep breaths in the shell of your ear.

From what you could faintly make out from the words and the lack of a warm body beside you, Patrick was on the phone with his mother. You wanted to feel bad for eavesdropping, especially since you’d just had an argument with Patrick over your snooping habit just over a week ago, but it was far too difficult not to listen in.

“I’m glad you liked the picture,” you made out from the muffled words behind the doorway. You were sure he was referencing the selfie the two of you took in front of Big Ben a few days ago. You also liked the photo a lot, with the two of you looking particularly good and particularly happy. You’d also taken a more baity photo of him kissing your cheek, specifically to send to his mother who he knew would be overjoyed to see you. While Patrick had explained the idea behind the picture as his mom simply wanting to see you, you knew the more accurate statement is that his mom wanted to see the two of you together.

After a beat, there was a soft chuckle. “No, we’re not back together. No mom, there’s no ‘yet.’ I know. I’m an idiot, I know- aren’t you supposed to take your child’s side? Well, I don’t know if you know this, but we never ended up getting married, so no, she’s not your daughter. How could she possibly be your favorite child! We just talked about this. I’m gonna hang up. I’m serious. Alright. Love you, bye.”

When Patrick returned, you were already sitting up in bed.

“Can you tell your mom I say hi next time?” you asked with a cheeky grin on your face, still coming off of the high that was the romantic outing you’d had the day prior.

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” he replied, getting back into bed beside you. “She probably wants to hear from you more than she wants to hear from me.”

You laughed and shook your head, not bothering to argue with his words since you both knew they were pretty accurate.

“I mean, I’m sure she’ll be inviting you to Thanksgiving and Christmas long after we’ve moved on with other people and have our own families.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You were sure of it. You thought you could genuinely feel the movement of your most vital organ slowly sinking into a pit of stomach acid.

You tried not to let your smile falter, considering that Patrick was looking right at you with a sweet look of his own plastered on his face. You wondered if this was some sort of test, to gauge how you felt after a day of rekindling the love the two of you thought had burnt out.

Or maybe, more realistically, he’d already come to accept the reality that you’d been stalling on accepting: your relationship was truly over. One fun day wouldn’t change the fact that your wedding had been called off, and that the two of you said things to each other that would alter the foundations of any solid relationship for years to come.

Your heart was such a traitor. She refused to accept the simple fact that Patrick wanted to move on, and that your relationship was a thing of the past. Maybe, if you couldn’t convince your heart to accept that truth, you might be able to force your brain to.

“And I’ll still be accepting that invitation, thank you very much,” you stated, trying to sound confident in your words. “In the meantime, let’s get ready before we miss this bus. You can tell me what your mom’s menu is gonna look like this year on our ride over.”

SOMEWHERE IN CENTRAL GERMANY

It was stupid for you to be torn up the way that you were over just a few simple words, but the more you thought about it, the worse you felt.

In reality, it wasn’t just what Patrick had said to you in the hotel room. It was the fact that he’d been actively trying to move on with other people since who knew when, and the way he seemed to frequently verbally reiterate the fact that your relationship was over. By holding out hope that you might somehow be able to repair your relationship, you were being much more naïve than you even realized.

You felt stupid. But you also felt confused, because as much as Patrick swore he was over you, and pursued other people, he was also far too comfortable acting like nothing had changed between you two. After all, he was the one flirting with you, and trying to attach himself at the hip to you as you traveled. He was the one who always managed to end up spooning you over the course of the night and woke up kissing whatever part of your body he was closest to. For god's sake, he’d just told you yesterday about how he’d searched high and low to find a bouquet of flowers that he thought you would genuinely like. And most damningly, you hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on his face when he found out that you had slept with someone else. That wasn’t the behavior of someone who was over their partner.

To say you were receiving mixed messages was a complete understatement. You couldn’t understand how it was possible that the man who was currently leaning against you very affectionately, despite being on a cramped bus, was also totally over you and wanted to move on.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do about the situation, but you were sure that you couldn’t keep going like this.

Your bus stopped somewhere in Germany for the evening, letting you all out to have dinner and do some light sightseeing before regrouping in the morning and heading to Prague. Somehow, that translated to going to a bar to try out German beer for you, Patrick, and a few of the friends you’d made while traveling.

After a brief intermission of checking into your hotel room, your small group met up in the lobby, then set off to find a bar.

Drinking while you were feeling a little upset probably wasn’t your brightest idea. The speed and volume at which you were consuming alcohol was a little concerning, but not nearly as concerning as how much Patrick was drinking. Eventually, even in your drunken state, you realized that you should probably slow down—if nothing else, to take care of him.

But the two of you continued on, going from bar to bar, getting drunk at a level that probably would’ve been acceptable when you were younger, but was certainly going to take a major toll on you now.

Forgetting about the repercussions of the future, you two were having a great time. Despite you being out with a group, it felt a little bit like the two of you were in your own little bubble. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter as the two of you took shots and danced together. Not the people around you, not the fact that you had to be up early the next morning to make it onto your coach, not even the fact that Patrick had implied that the two of you would move on and have families with other people only a few days ago.

By the time that the rest of your group had called it quits, explaining that they wanted to be up and functional in time for your ride the next morning, you and Patrick were still in your own little world. It was only after you’d shared a few drunk cigarettes that the two of you decided that the fun should end, and that it was time to head back to your hotel.

Unfortunately for you, midway through your trek back home, your drinking buddy had given up on walking, leaving you tasked with literally dragging him all the way back to your hotel. While a sober version of yourself would’ve been annoyed by the inconvenience, all you could really think about was how nice it was to have his body so close to yours.

After a tumultuous journey back, the two of you finally made it back to your hotel room. You had only been in the room for a matter of seconds before Patrick collapsed onto the bed and let out a loud sigh of relief, followed by an even louder yawn, as if he was the one who had just carried you down the road.

It was annoyingly endearing.

You had half the mind to at least get somewhat ready before getting into bed, shedding your outermost layer of clothing before joining Patrick in bed.

“Thank you,” he said to you once you laid down next to him.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your head still pleasantly buzzing from the alcohol. “But I’m never doing that again.”

“Aww, why? We had so much fun,” he practically whined. “I always have so much fun when we’re together.”

“I had fun, but you’re so heavy. You’d never guess it. All those muscles,” in the midst of your complaining, you reached over to grab his bicep to demonstrate his point.

He laughed, which made you laugh, though you didn’t exactly know what you were laughing at. Then, out of the blue, he randomly said your name in a very serious tone.

“Can you help me with something?” he asked, sounding very genuine and giving you a look that you couldn’t quite place in your drunken state.

“Anything,” you replied earnestly and meant it. You would probably do literally anything that he asked you to do at that moment. Move a mountain? You’d start pushing. Marry him? You’d wake up an officiant and come up with vows on the spot. Help him hide a body? You were sure you could find a shovel somewhere.

“Can you help me get my shoes off?” he lifted a foot as he spoke to demonstrate his point, a little pout on his lips. You were a little disappointed that he hadn’t asked you for anything else, but you also weren’t quite sure what it was that you wanted him to ask you for.

You groaned playfully, a long and drawn out sound that you hoped would communicate that you were exhausted after dragging him through the city and comfortable where you were laying. Still, you leaned over and untied his shoes before gently slipping them off. When you looked back up at Patrick, his pants were newly half undone and halfway off, but it looked as if he had given up fully taking his pants off.

“Need help with that too?” you asked, though you were already working on slipping the article of clothing off of his legs.

Though you tried to push the thought out of your mind, you couldn’t help but recall a similar night the two of you shared several years ago. Your relationship was still relatively new, but you were already very obviously in love. So in love that you’d gone out of your way to set up a surprise party to celebrate a particularly successful tennis match, decorating your apartment with photos of him with trophies and other tennis paraphernalia and inviting as many of his close friends that you could track down. Still riding the high of winning and his all-consuming adoration of you, Patrick had partied a little too hard, leaving you in charge of tucking him in at the end of the night.

After bringing him a glass of water, the man snuggled into your sheets and slurred out a comment about how they smelled like you. You felt your cheeks warm as he continued on in a disjointed ramble, talking about how much he appreciated you and how no one had ever gone out of their way to make him feel like that before. He ended his monologue with a request for you to help him take his clothes off, and you happily obliged. It was tender and far more intimate than you’d expected, and ended in a drawn out kiss that left you giggling as you told Patrick that he tasted like Smirnoff Ice.

Even as inebriated as you currently were, the nostalgia made you feel a little dizzy.

By the time you’d finished helping him get his pants off, Patrick had clearly given up on getting his shirt off, too. Once again, you moved your hands up his body and helped him out with the piece of fabric.

“Look at that. All ready for bed,” you commented, setting a hand on his bare chest. The small action made your heart soar, and you promptly decided that it was probably better for you to avoid touching him altogether.

“My watch?” Patrick asked, lifting his wrist up to show you the accessory.

“You can take your watch off yourself,” you replied, leaning back into bed and finally laying down.

“Fine.”

“Night, Patty,” you said, reaching over to turn out the bedside lamp.

“Wait,” he paused pensively, as if he was digging deep in the recesses of his mind to conjure up what he was about to say. “A kiss?”

“Patrick!” you gasped, sounding far more scandalized by the proposition than you actually were. Of course you would give him a kiss, you just weren’t sure you were ready to open up that can of worms, especially after you’d had a minor crisis at the realization that he genuinely wanted to move on.

“No goodnight kiss? C’mon. Fully commit to tucking me in,” Patrick insisted, as if it was the most logical thing ever. As if either of you had the self control to not let something as simple as a kiss spiral out of control.

“Fine,” you sighed before pressing a gentle peck to his forehead, figuring that was the safest place to do so. A forehead kiss was about as platonic as it got with you. “Sweet dreams.”

“Thank you,” he said, rather sweetly as his eyes shut. “Love you.”

Those words instantly gave you pause, causing you to suddenly feel very alert and very sober.

“Sorry, what did you just say?”

“I said I love you?” Patrick repeated, looking at you with confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” though it was very much not nothing. In fact, if his confession was true, it would change everything. “Go to bed.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick grabbed your arm, looking very worried in the low light of the room. “You’re mad. You’re mad that I love you?”

You didn’t even know how you were supposed to react to that admission. While it had been exactly what you’d been dying to hear from him for months, it only further complicated your already very complicated situation.

“I’m not mad, I’m… I’m just tired. Let’s go to sleep, okay?”

Your explanation seemed to placate Patrick enough to let it go and go to sleep. He shuffled around to get comfortable behind you, before pulling you in to hold you as he’d done for the entirety of the trip. Except, tonight, it didn’t feel quite right. The mixture of his frequent rejections of you, paired with his casual confession that he still loved you made your head spin.

The following morning, you woke up with a pounding in your head and a gross taste in your mouth—only one of which, you could fully attribute to the drinking you’d done last night. You clumsily reached for your phone, and found yourself pleasantly surprised to find an announcement about the delay of the next bus you would be getting on.

You got out of bed with a grunt, your entire body aching with the reminder of having to drag Patrick through the city last night. Somehow, the sore muscles didn’t hurt nearly as much compared to the memory of being told that Patrick still loved you.

You slowly paced back and forth around your hotel room, desperately trying to organize your racing thoughts. Did Patrick actually mean what he said last night? Or had been caught up in the heat of the moment? If anything, the latter seemed more likely, since he’d been very obviously trying to distance himself from you. But had he really been distancing himself from you, or just talking about distancing himself from you? If his care for you on the ferry had been any indication of how he really felt about you, it was possible that his drunken words were more honest than you were trying to convince yourself that they were.

Finally, you decided to stop annoying the person staying in the room under you with your increasingly frantic pacing, and to go outside to walk. Some fresh air would be good for you anyway.

“Where’re you going?” a muffled voice, heavy with sleep asked. You paused the tying of your shoes to look over at the bed, where Patrick was currently squinting at you.

“I’m just going for a walk,” you told him. “Go back to sleep. The coach is coming late.”

“Wait for me. I’ll come with you.”

That was probably the last thing you needed or wanted. After all, the whole purpose of your walk was to help you sort out your thoughts about Patrick. To say he wasn’t a welcome addition to your trip was an understatement.

“Okay,” you said anyway, against your better judgment. It seemed like you hadn’t been using much of your judgment at all on this trip. What was one more poor decision on top of a series of poor decisions?

You watched him get ready from where you were sitting, quietly impressed with his ability to get up and be functional despite surely being just as hungover—if not more—than you. He also seemed wholly unaffected by the conversation you’d had last night, which was something that you certainly couldn’t say for yourself.

With sunglasses perched on your nose and the weight of your entire relationship placed on your shoulders, the two of you headed out into the city, walking on the same sidewalks that you’d practically carried Patrick down the previous night.

“Last night was fun,” Patrick commented, making small talk with you as you began to head down the street.

“Some parts,” you agreed, hoping that he’d recall you grunting as you lugged him down the street, rather than your shock when he told you that he still loved you.

“I honestly don’t remember most of the night,” Patrick said with a chuckle that almost sounded a little forced. You couldn’t be sure if he was being honest or searching for a cop out for the things he’d told you before you went to sleep, but you weren’t sure that it really mattered.

“Unfortunately, I do,” you replied.

“Oh no. I hope I wasn’t too much of a pain.”

“You were like, slightly above average in terms of being a pain. Nothing I’m not used to.” You figured that maybe you could banter your way out of this situation. Perhaps if you just pretended that everything was okay, things would magically become okay.

But that didn’t feel alright. In fact, it wasn’t alright. If you ever wanted to improve your relationship with Patrick, you had to stop beating around the bush with him. You were both adults. You’d been together for years, yet you felt like you wasted far too much time not being straightforward with your thoughts and feelings. If there was going to be a next time for the two of you, you wanted things to be different.

“You did say something kinda interesting last night, though.” While it had been easy to talk up a big game in your head, you immediately regretted the words that came out of your mouth. Regardless, it was too late for you to back out.

Patrick laughed nervously before asking, “what?”

“You just… you kinda told me you still have feelings for me, or whatever. I just think, maybe we should talk about it. Or at least talk about us.”

The man next to you paled at your words. Your regret for bringing the topic up immediately grew exponentially.

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” Patrick said, though he was lying through his teeth and both of you knew it. You wanted to approach this topic with civility and an open mind, but his blatant lie was making that a rather difficult task.

“Are you kidding? We’ve been tip-toeing around it this entire trip.”

“We’re broken up. You called off our wedding. I don’t think it gets any more straightforward than that,” he dismissed with a gross simplification of the state of your relationship.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. And even if it was, all I said was that I didn't think I was ready to get married. You put the final nail in the coffin when you told me you fell out of love with me. But I don’t know how I’m supposed to interpret you not being in love with me anymore when you still act the way that you act with me.”

You could tell the direction this conversation was going, your discussion quickly veering into argument territory as Patrick began to invade your space as he always did when you argued.

“And how exactly do I act with you?” he challenged, though you were sure he knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Do you want me to give you a list or something?” you asked, his anger becoming contagious.

“Sure, why not,” he said drily.

“Fine. Let’s start with the cuddling, then. Please enlighten me, do you know any exes who spoon regularly? I mean, I certainly don’t. I don’t even touch my friends like that. So I don’t know what that really makes us. Or maybe how jealous you got when you saw me with someone else. I really can’t think of any sort of platonic explanation for that, and trust me, I’ve tried. And while we’re at it, I guess I should mention those showers. I respect the hell out of your faith in the thickness of these hotel walls, but I actually can hear you moaning my name while you’re in there. I’m honestly a little flattered, but I’m mostly confused.”

“Like you’re not doing the same,” Patrick scoffed. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was masking his true feelings with hostility, and though you wanted to engage in an actual conversation with him, you weren’t sure you would be able to take the high road in this conversation.

“Sure, but I’m not the one in denial of what’s going on here!”

“I’m not in denial. Have you ever considered that maybe I want to move on?”

“Do you, though?” you asked, pausing on the sidewalk.

“Clearly, I do,” he stopped right along with you, now really getting in your face.

“Clearly,” you repeated with a laugh. “Maybe you should start acting like it.”

“Maybe you should stop clinging to the past.”

His piercing gaze was unwavering as he waited to read your reaction. You knew how he liked to play this game, looking for an indication of any sort of weakness from you. You refused to give him that, though his words cut deep.

“Okay,” you said calmly, though you were very much not feeling calm on the inside. “Well, thanks for letting me know how you really feel. Or how you think you feel. I don’t really know anymore. And I don’t think you know either.”

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

If you had known that telling Patrick that he drunkenly confessed to loving you would’ve broken the already very delicate relationship the two of you had built back up, you never would’ve said anything at all. As it turned out, having some of Patrick was better than not having him at all.

The contempt he now felt for you had become so strong that he didn’t even seem to be able to look at you. He sat next to a different person on the bus to Prague, not even sparing you a glance. When you arrived at the hotel, he made it a point to ask for separate rooms—something the two of you hadn’t done the entirety of your trip. As your tour began, he seemed to make a strong effort to separate himself from you, standing in the back of your group when you were in the front and vice versa.

Usually, even after your worst arguments, you’d been able to find the time to talk out your feelings, but now it seemed like Patrick couldn’t even find it in himself to give you that.

You wanted to be mad at Patrick too. You were mad at him. But you missed him more than you were angry with him, and you yearned to be with him, no matter how crazy his constant antics drove you.

Part of you felt frustrated that your relationship had become so cyclical since your breakup. You weren’t sure you could handle another cycle of fighting to the point of real anger, then making up with your relationship still a little more strained than it was in the past. You just wanted Patrick. Why did things have to be any more complicated than that?

You desperately clung on to any bits of hope that your relationship might persist, coming out of this argument altered, but still existing. You snuck peeks at Patrick while you toured a beautiful castle and tried to bite your tongue until you stopped thinking of how badly you wanted to grab him and joke about his home looking like that castle. You wondered if he wanted to put your initials on a lock and put it on a bridge as much as you did. You wished you could ask him if he missed the warm body in bed beside him the way you did.

But every time you looked at him, he was pointedly not looking at you. As your group paused on the bridge to allow couples the time to make their own locks, Patrick didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You were sure that even if he did miss you in bed, or wherever else, he would never tell you about it.

You didn’t want it to be over—but you couldn’t keep clinging to hope that it wasn’t.

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND

Getting to view the breathtaking scenery of the Swiss Alps as you sat on a cable car had been a dream of yours for years. What wasn’t included in that dream was dodging the glare of your ex-fiancé as the two of you sat in silence on that very gondola.

Unluckily for the two of you, you were stuck together for the afternoon. Private skiing lessons in the Swiss Alps sounded like a great, even romantic, idea while you were planning the trip, but it was far from romantic now.

The two of you stood on opposite sides of your instructor, the tension between you so thick that in the midst of his safety spiel, he paused to ask if everything was okay between you. After a stilted reply of yes, your instructor looked at you both skeptically before carrying on.

Seeing as Patrick was an athlete who spent his childhood school breaks in Aspen, he was pretty decent at skiing already. Far better than you, a novice who was moving a little bit like a giraffe standing on its feet for the first time.

While it wasn’t your first time skiing—that had been on a family vacation you’d tagged along on with the Zweigs—you certainly were not experienced enough to be keeping up with Patrick, who had the experience and the ego to give even your instructor a run for his money.

It was entertaining to watch him in his element, his competitive side coming out despite the fact there was no competition anywhere to be found. He was significantly faster than you wherever you went, and skied with a confidence that you doubted you would ever be able to exhibit. In the past, this behavior may have been slightly endearing to you, but right now, it was mostly a little annoying.

You and your instructor stood above Patrick, watching him effortlessly glide down the mountain in front of you. If you weren’t so agitated, you might actually have been impressed. As if your instructor was actively reading your mind, he leaned over to say something to you.

“I think he’s trying to impress you,” he said quietly, though the subject of your conversation was an entire slope away.

You nearly choked on your own saliva at the observation. “No way.”

“What do you mean no way?” he laughed. “Trust me, I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve seen it all. Couples, crushes, friends, coworkers. I know posturing when I see it.”

“Trust me, he could care less.”

He looked at you with a doubting squint. “Why don’t we go down there and ask him?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed. The thought of asking Patrick anything after the interactions you’d had seemed absolutely ridiculous. At this point, you wouldn’t even ask him what time it was.

“Sorry. Let me rephrase that. That was me telling you that it’s time for you to go down the slope.”

You looked downhill at where you needed to go, noting that it was far steeper than what you’d been practicing on leading up to this point. You had been looking for an excuse to stall going down it, but now that your instructor had said something about that, you couldn’t not go.

After taking a deep breath, you began to go down. Gaining a bit of speed, you also found yourself growing slightly more confident, closing your eyes and feeling the cold air press against your body. While you were enjoying your speed at first, it was quickly growing out of hand, and you began to panic as you realized just how fast you were going. Desperately trying to pull your skis into a V shape to slow down, you were horrified at the realization that you were far too late, and actively heading towards a cluster of trees. You didn’t know what to do other than to accept your fate, and everything had happened so fast anyway that you found yourself tumbling into a tree, a searing pain on your ankle and tailbone as you laid out on the rocky ground.

Everything felt like it was moving slowly and quickly at the same time. One second, you were alone in the snow, and the next, Patrick and your ski instructor were hovering over you, goggles on their foreheads as they looked at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” you were finally able to make out once the slight ringing in your ears had ceased.

“Did you see how hard she crashed? Of course she isn’t fucking okay,” Patrick’s voice huffed, though slightly muffled from your helmet covering your ears.

“My ankle,” you said, as if that gave them enough context. You wondered if they could see the tears beginning to pool under your goggles. The pair looked at your limb, though with your snowsuit covering it, they really couldn’t see much.

“Can you walk?” your instructor asked you.

“I haven’t tried, but I’m gonna go with no.”

“We’re gonna have someone check you out. Don’t worry, they’ll be here soon,” your ski instructor told you. You blinked a few times and mustered all the strength you could to nod.

The longer you sat, the more you began to realize how badly everything hurt. From your head down to your surely swollen ankle, you weren’t feeling too hot. You closed your eyes, suddenly feeling very exhausted. Maybe a quick little nap was exactly what you needed to feel a little better.

“Hey, don’t do that. You hit your head pretty hard when you fell, so you might have a concussion.”

“I don’t, I’m just tired,” you explained, though you didn’t know for a fact that it was true. In fact, with the pounding in your head, you more likely than not had a mild concussion.

“Well, you kinda have to stay awake,” Patrick told you, though he surely knew it was easier said than done. You were surprised when you felt his gloved hand take yours and squeezed your hand softly. “Hey, why don’t you tell us a story?” he suggested, clearly just trying to keep you awake.

“Do you wanna hear the story about how he proposed to me?” you asked the instructor. You weren’t sure why that was the first thing to pop into your head, but it was a long enough story to keep you awake until help arrived. You wished your goggles were slightly less tinted, so you could at least see the scandalized expression Patrick was probably making. You loved when you made him react like that, since the roles were usually reversed.

“Well, yeah. Of course,” your instructor responded with a hint of a laugh. “You guys are engaged?” he directed towards Patrick.

“This is our honeymoon,” you replied before Patrick had an opportunity to respond. You wished you could see the confused look that your instructor was surely making.

“So what happened?”

“When he proposed?” you asked to clarify.

“...Sure.”

“Well, for a little context, Patrick here is a professional tennis player. He’s really good too. So given my athletic ability, as you got to see today, I never really played with him. Like, he would always ask me to just play a fun, quick little round and I would always tell him no. Mostly because I knew he would crush me. I did play a little bit back in the day, but I was nowhere near his level. I mostly preferred to be on the sideline while we dated. I mean, I came to every single one of his games. I’m pretty sure my office introduced remote work to us because of me, since I was traveling all the time to see him.

“Anyway, one day, after a day of buttering me up, and I mean, he was really laying it on thick. I don’t know how I didn’t think something was up,” you laughed as you recalled the day, how Patrick had scheduled a nail appointment for you, then wined and dined you during a very romantic midday picnic. “But he asked me to play a little bit of tennis with him. I think I just thought he spent the day buttering me up so that I would play tennis with him, not that I would agree to marry him, but I digress.

“We get to the tennis court and Patrick’s nervous like I’ve never seen him. He was a little jittery all day, but this was a different beast. Looking back, I really don’t understand why. He should’ve known I was going to say yes. Anyway, we’re playing, and somehow I win, even though I’m extremely rusty and have absolutely awful form. Obviously I knew Patrick threw the match for me, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t gonna gloat at him.

“So I’m doing my victory spiel and I walk over to his side of the court, where he’s digging in his bag. He’s so quiet, which should’ve been a sign that something was up, and I’m thinking he’s about to pull out more tennis balls and tell me we’re doing a rematch, so he can really crush me. Instead, he pulls out a box and gets down on one knee. He gives me a speech about how he didn’t care if he never won another game of tennis in his life, because as long as we were together, he was a winner. It was really sweet. Obviously I said yes.”

You finally looked over at Patrick, though you couldn’t perfectly read his expression through the darkened lens of your goggles. You wondered if he felt any of the same feelings that were currently simmering in your own chest. Though, you didn’t get to stew too long, as help arrived just as your story came to a close.

You were taken to an infirmary and given a series of tests, some to see the state of your head and other to see how the rest of your body was doing. Surprisingly, you made it out without too much serious damage. Your ankle was sprained, but nothing that would make it take too long to heal. You had a concussion, which surprised you, given your ability to recall so many details earlier in the day, but it was a very mild one. At least you’d made it back into your hotel in one piece.

You really just wanted to relax for the rest of the evening, and you had plans to do exactly that, when there was suddenly a soft rapping at your door.

You got up, and with help from the crutches you were provided, you hobbled to the door and opened it. On the other side was Patrick, who you were both surprised and unsurprised to see.

“Hey. I got your room number from the front desk,” Patrick told you. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Sure, but I’m probably going to sleep soon,” with some effort, you sidestepped the doorway to let him in.

“Do you need anything? Want anything?” he asked as he made himself at home in your room, evaluating what you already had.

“I’m good, I think.”

“How’re you feeling? They wouldn’t let me see you at the infirmary.”

“I’ve been better,” you shrugged, sitting down on the foot of your bed to take some pressure off of your aching ankle.

“I bet. Are you icing that?” he asked, gesturing to your most obvious injury.

“I haven’t been able to make it out to the ice machine,” you confessed, though the doctor had suggested ice for the inflammation.

“Let me go grab some for you,” he said before disappearing out into the hallway. Once he left, you laid back in bed, letting out a sigh of relief at how much better being flat felt.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like being taken care of this way. It seemed like no matter how bad things got between the two of you, you would always care for one another in some capacity. You wondered what had gone through Patrick’s mind when he saw you hurt yourself. You wondered if that changed anything in the way he felt about you.

He knocked on the door once more to tell you he was back, though the door was already unlocked.

“If there’s anything else you need, I mean anything at all, just call me. I’m just down the hall from you,” he told you as he bagged up the ice he retrieved.

He sat down on the foot of the bed, where you’d previously been sitting, and tenderly set the bag of ice on your ankle, clearly not wanting to hurt you any more than you were already hurt. He looked at you a little sadly before standing back up, not wanting to linger in your presence too long.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he explained, already turning to head towards the door.

“Thanks, Patrick,” you paused, looking for any other words you had for him. “Good night.”

“Night.”

SOMEWHERE IN ITALY

The next few days in Switzerland had been extremely boring. Due to doctor’s orders, you mainly stayed in bed, avoiding screens by reading books, and looking out the window to view the mountains that you were currently missing.

Although you had to miss a lot of the fun your tour was going on, like a cheese and chocolate tour, you somehow still received an anonymous delivery of cheeses and chocolates—though, you were pretty sure you knew who was responsible for that.

Patrick didn’t seem like he wanted to overstep any boundaries, which you respected, though you really could’ve used some company whose ear you could talk off. Hell, you’d even take another nasty argument over the resounding silence of your room.

Luckily for you, by the time your group was traveling once again, you were starting to feel slightly better, concussion and ankle-wise. Though, your head was starting to hurt from listening to a person at the front of the bus go on about how much they needed the bus to pull over somewhere.

After a period of incessant complaining from someone on your bus, the vehicle finally came to a stop at a small rest stop in the middle of the Italian countryside.

Not willing to pass up an opportunity to stretch your legs, you got off at the stop, briefly stopping inside the building to look at what they had to offer before stepping behind the building, watching the wind blow through the overgrown weeds.

Your attempt at enjoying the quiet, idyllic countryside was disturbed when you were joined by a smoking companion.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said.

Before you could stop it, a sad smile appeared on your face. The two of you hadn’t spoken since your brief conversation in your hotel room, despite the mystery snack deliveries and the promise of coming if you called.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said plainly.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” you dismissed.

“You’ve spent the last few days all alone in a room with a concussion.”

“It’s mild.”

“You fucked up your ankle.”

“It’s healing. It’s not all that bad.”

“Well, I’ve been worried anyway,” he passed you his partially smoked cigarette and you took a drag from it, though you were sure that was one of the things you shouldn’t be doing with a concussion.

“Thanks, I guess.” you said. “So is this just a wellness check, or…?”

“No, well, yes. Obviously I was worried about you physically, but I also was wondering about how you were in general.”

It was strange to see him clumsily mince his words, given how bold he usually was.

“Oh? What changed between here and Germany?”

“What changed? What changed was that I watched you almost die.”

You laughed aloud at his over dramatization of the event. “Patrick, I did not almost die.”

“How would I have known that? I just saw you flying downhill out of control and crashing and it terrified me. I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.”

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to interpret his words, especially after the wild ride you’d been on throughout the trip. You weren’t sure you could handle another emotional bait and switch.

“Pat, maybe we should talk about this later. The bus is probably taking off soon.”

“No,” he stopped you with a hand on your arm, calling you back with a desperation you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I don’t want to waste another second without you.”

“Okay,” you said, though you weren’t sure that you should buy into it yet. “Go ahead, then.”

“I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you or don’t want to be with you,” he confessed, which genuinely took you by surprise. With the way he’d been dodging your attempts at building a connection, you certainly didn’t think he’d tell you something like that.

“Then why have you been pretending?” you asked, hoping that your somewhat harsh words didn’t betray your genuine curiosity behind his behavior.

“I don’t know,” he said. It was a terrible, unsatisfying answer. One that didn’t explain a single reason behind his behavior. “I guess I just can’t wrap my head around the idea that anyone would want to keep me around long-term.”

You looked at him with shock in your eyes, your mouth slightly agape at the confession. You couldn’t imagine Patrick, overconfident, bold, and self-assured, who you’d been dating for years, not feeling secure in your relationship–to the point where he’d been actively trying to push you away out of anticipating how you’d feel about him.

“When you told me you weren’t ready to be with me, it just confirmed everything I’d been worried about—that one day you would wake up next to me and realize that I wasn’t the guy you wanted. I guess it just happened sooner than I anticipated.”

You almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “If you felt like that, then why’d you tell me you weren’t in love with me anymore?”

“I thought if you were gonna leave me anyway, I might as well beat you to the punch.”

You were giving it your all to keep it together at this point, feeling slightly vindicated to know that Patrick was lying about no longer loving you, but mostly devastated that your whole relationship had been uprooted over an assumption that Patrick had made about you.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you looked out into the grass, then back at Patrick. “I wish you’d stop assuming that you know what I want all the time.”

“Hey you two, last call for the coach,” your tour guide suddenly interrupted, looking very obviously annoyed that the two of you were holding the bus up.

“Sorry. We’ll head back now,” you apologized to the guide. “We’ll continue this conversation later?” you directed towards Patrick.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

VENICE, ITALY

Putting a hold on your conversation probably wasn’t the wisest idea you’d ever had, considering that your next few days in Italy were set to be your busiest this far.

Between gondola rides on different boats and exploring historic palaces, the two of you didn’t have much time to stop and have as serious of a talk as you wanted to have. Even if you did somehow manage to pick up where you’d left off, there were so many people around you that it didn’t even feel worth it.

Luckily for you, your hotel had a private beach attached to it, and as you spent your evening by the beach, watching the sun go down, you were pleased to find that you were joined by familiar company.

At first, Patrick didn’t say anything as he sat down on the same chair next to you. The two of you enjoyed the serene sunset and privacy that the beach afforded you in silence, though you were sure that things wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“I love you, you know?” he finally piped up, breaking the silence with a very bold declaration.

You looked at him calmly, though you weren’t feeling very calm on the inside. You’d been waiting to hear those words from him from the moment that the two of you broke up. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to react to it now, though the confession was better late than never.

“I love you too. I never stopped,” you told him simply, as if the realization that you were stuck on him hadn’t been haunting you for months now.

“I never did, either. It was cruel of me to ever tell you that I did.”

You nodded in agreement, wondering if Patrick would ever understand the full extent of the damage his words had done to you. “It was, but I understand where you were coming from. If I had known that you didn’t think I was going to stick around, I would’ve gone about what I did differently,” you began to explain. “I think it came across as me not wanting to marry you at all. Of course I wanted to marry you. There was just so much else going on in my life then that the timing didn’t feel right.”

“But the timing might be right someday?” Patrick asked, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

“The timing will be right someday. Maybe sooner than either of us know,” you shot him a wink, then broke into a grin as he pulled you into a firm, loving embrace.

ATHENS, GREECE

The rest of your time in Italy mainly consisted of making up for lost time, with the two of you partaking in far more PDA than what was ever necessary and thoroughly documenting your time abroad together as a couple.

Thanks to your injury, you were slightly slower than the rest of your group. But that certainly didn’t stop Patrick from lagging along with you, letting you lean on him for support when you needed it and pausing to sit and take breaks with you whenever you noticed that walking was taking too much of a toll on you.

It was nice to be back with him, to not have to feel stupid for feeling what you felt or feel the pressure of knowing that you should probably be trying to move on. The only unfortunate part was how little time the two of you had left on vacation, with you heading home after spending a few days in Athens. If only the two of you had been upfront about your feelings earlier, then you could’ve been having as great of a time as you were having now during your entire trip.

The two of you briefly floated the idea of having somewhat of a shotgun wedding, but scrapped it after realizing that you would prefer to have your family and friends there to celebrate with you. After all, many of them had been on the emotional rollercoaster that was your relationship right along with you.

For the time being, the two of you were perfectly content with being together, and knowing that neither of you had any intentions of leaving.

Somehow, that made your last few days of vacation feel infinitely better.

ATHENS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

You scrolled endlessly on your phone, sending out a few messages to friends and family to let them know that you were heading back home. While you typically felt a few nerves before boarding a plane anywhere, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of excitement, both at the thought of being able to go back home and sleep in your own bed, and at the potential your newly reformed relationship had.

Your scrolling was interrupted by Patrick’s presence, carrying a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in his hands with a slightly goofy look on his face.

“Sorry for taking so long. I think everyone and their mother wanted coffee today,” he explained as he sat down, passing you your items as he got comfortable next to you.

“No worries. I’m just glad you were running late to grab us breakfast, instead of trying to switch our seats like last time.”

The two of you shared a laugh before Patrick said, “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“It basically was,” you dismissed.

Once it was announced that your group was boarding, the two of you stood up quickly, attempting to gather your bearings before getting on the plane.

“‘Till next time, Europe,” you bid the country goodbye as the two of you made your way to the line.

“Should we come back to Europe? I was thinking our next honeymoon should be somewhere else. Maybe Bali.”

“Oooh, Bali sounds nice. I think anywhere warm and with a beach is good,” you explained, though you really didn’t care where you went, as long as Patrick was there by your side.

#patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #josh o'connor x reader

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dramas-vs-novels · 4 months ago

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Love Sand: A Summary

For those who cannot afford to buy Love Sand, or don't know if they feel like reading it. This is a full summary, so of course it's full of spoilers. General trigger warnings for dubious consent, non-consent (one partner drunk), and revoked consent.

Love Sand takes place 7-5 months before the events of Love Sea, long before Mahasamut and Tongrak ever meet. The two do, however, play major roles in Khom and Connor's love story.

Love Sand's official English edition can be purchased through Meb.

If you order through the app, you'll have to buy a set of tokens and purchase it that way, If you order through their website, you can directly buy the number of tokens you need for Love Sand specifically.

Love Sand: A Summary

Before getting into this: Khom has a lot of negative self-image issues revolving around being thought of as a sex worker. I conveyed that as best I could here, but I want to make it clear that there is no shame in sex work, so long as it's something the person wants to do, is protected, and does not feel forced into.

Khom is 19, and just had his heart broken by his first love.

Type grew up with Khom, and Khom saw all the bad that came on the heels of Type being sexually assaulted at the age of 11 by a worker his father had hired. Type was hounded by media seeking to sensationalize an already horrible story, and faced the stares of curious islanders and people asking too many questions about the assault.

Type becomes viciously homophobic after the trauma, buying into every negative stereotype about gay people. Khom, who has always known he's gay and who has had a crush on Type throughout his youth, wants to be a calming presence. He supports Type, is his confidant and friend, and swallows his objections to what Type says.

But Type's hatred just keeps growing and growing, and Khom is finally sick of hearing it. He reveals to Type that he's gay, hoping Type will reconsider his homophobia after learning his best friend, who has always been there for him, is gay.

Instead, Type throws it all in Khom's face. He calls Khom a pervert, a slut, and is disgusted by his association with Khom.

Khom is very similar to Mahasamut in Love Sea, in which he will internalize the opinions of people he cares about. Type's words cut as deeply as a knife, and are the trigger for a lot of the plot of Love Sand.

---

Several days after Type returned to his university in Bangkok, Khom is isolating himself and trying to deal with the pain in his heart. He withdraws from everyone, and sits alone to mourn his lifelong one-sided crush.

Khom isn't good at making friends. He's friendly with some guys on the island, but not in a way where he'd turn to any of them if he's in pain. He's extremely introverted, and deeply isolated.

Mahasamut tracks him down one day at a kind of secluded beach the locals keep to themselves. Mut is an older boy on the island, around 21, and viciously charismatic. His business is word-of-mouth, and there isn't much Mahasamut won't do to make sure he's the first choice of every traveler.

But right now, he's in trouble and needs help. Mahasamut was jumped at a bar by a gang of local boys who tried to fuck with him. Despite it being 6:1, Mahsasamut won the fight, but slipped on a beer bottle afterwards and broke his leg.

Mahasamut has a visitor coming to the island the next day, who booked his services and whose business Mut cannot afford to lose. Even if he's the choice of any traveler who can book him, Mahasamut very much lives hand to mouth. Khom is the only other boy on the island who speaks English as well as Mahasamut, and he needs Khom to pretend to be him and play tour guide for 3 days.

In exchange, Mut will give Khom a cut of what the foreigner is paying.

Khom reluctantly agrees, figuring it will be a distraction from his dark thoughts and pain of falling out with Type.

Khom is instantly and immediately attracted to Connor, but he knows how dangerous that is. Connor has a wild playboy aura, and fierce green eyes that make him darkly seductive. He's also 11 years older than Khom.

With a shock, Khom quickly learns that Connor is completely fluent in Thai, though he pretends not to be around most people. Connor is Canadian, and on the island as part of a vacation tour of dive spots.

And that's all Khom is allowed to know. If he asks any questions about Connor's life, Connor quite obviously changes the subject, making it very clear that Khom is not entitled to any personal information at all. Not even how he knows Thai.

Connor is overtly attracted to Khom, and flirts with him constantly. Khom takes him to local hangouts, where the food is more authentic and people more themselves than around the tourist areas.

Khom gets drunk at one such spot, encouraged by Connor, and loses all sense of where he is. He's hot, so he strips, and attracts the attention of basically the Thai equivalent of siren.

In Khom's mind, the demon is coming to steal his soul, but he is too unsteady to fight it as it pins him down and starts jacking him off.

In reality, Connor has taken Khom back to his hotel room, and when Khom strips his shirt off, Connor pounces. He ignores Khom's protests and forcefully jacks him off.

---

The next morning, Khom is embarrassed to know he got drunk and the guest he's supposed to be taking care of had to take care of him. He also vaguely remembers having a strange dream the night before, but it's very much a dream.

Connor keeps taunting and teasing Khom, embarrassing the boy and keeping him on edge. Khom is fighting constantly against his own attraction to Connor. He doesn't want to be the kind of person Type accused him of being.

He isn't a slut, he isn't easy, he isn't perverted. He isn't the kind to have flings with tourists. Khom's had a couple of very short lived relationships in his life, all done under extreme secrecy. No one knows he's gay, not even his family. That's half to protect himself, and half because he didn't want Type to know he was gay, still hoping that Type's prejudice would eventually fade.

Connor wants to go for a dive, so Mahasamut sends Palm with a rented boat. But the boat is WAY too nice, and Khom realizes that Connor must be paying Mahasamut way above his normal rate. Meanwhile, he's giving Khom pennies for filling in.

Khom is supposed to be pretending to be Mahasamut so that Connor doesn't know this isn't the guide he hired. But Khom is so bad at it that he keeps forgetting, and it's obvious to Connor from the start. It is never confirmed nor denied, but Khom suspects Mahasamut somewhat pimped him out to Connor. Choosing Khom as his guide because Khom is physically exactly the kind of person Connor is attracted to.

While diving, Connor pretends to drown so that Khom has to give him air (they were freediving, not diving with tanks). To Connor, it's a cheeky way to get a kiss, hidden underwater where Cockblock Palm can't see them. But Khom is deathly serious about safety, and is absolutely enraged.

After that, Connor sticks to beaches, and apologizes constantly for playing. He also doesn't slow down his pursuit of Khom in the least.

---

The next day, Khom takes Connor out again, this time on a motorbike. Connor is very suggestive all day, and keeps Khom anxious and on the edge. Eventually, even though Khom repeatedly asks him to behave, Connor distracts Khom while he's driving and Khom nearly collides with a car. He crashes the bike, and while Connor is fine, Khom's leg is torn up.

Khom has to go to the hospital, and Connor is extremely embarrassed and worried. He takes Khom back to the resort and takes care of him.... but in a very Connor way.

He helps strip Khom, and then sits there in the bathroom with him while Khom takes a bath with maximum embarrassment. He also deliberately leaves the towel away from the tub so that Khom has to ask him for it while Connor stares at him.

Connor then makes Khom lay on the bed and take his medicine, which puts him to sleep. Khom is incredibly upset- he's ruined Connor's last night on the island, and now a guest is losing out on enjoying the area because he has to take care of his guide.

The next morning, Khom wakes in intense pain from the leg. Connor again gives him medicine, and tells him to go back to sleep. Khom doesn't want to lose the time with Connor, but Connor won't hear it.

When Khom next wakes, it's late in the afternoon. Connor has not only missed his checkout time, but he's also missed the last boat off the island for the day. Khom is again embarrassed and upset, but Connor doesn't care.

Connor then reveals that he actually extended his vacation the night before, and did it specifically because he's interested in the island, but also in Khom. Mahasamut has also given Khom as his guaranteed tour guide for his extended stay. This kind of reminds Khom that he's acting like a prostitute, wanting to sleep with the man who he's been hired to guide.

The next morning, on one public beach, while Connor is swimming, Khom is approached by a group of guys (Khom can't get in the water with his injury). One of them is Jun, a local who was once a classmate of Khom's. Jun's family had the money to send him to school on the mainland, and he's returned with his rich friends, making fun of how shabby the island is.

Khom loves the island as fiercely as Mahasamut does, and Jun pisses him off. Jun belittles Khom, and right then Connor reappears and steps in. He puts Jun in his place, taunting him and destroying him and his dignity in front of his rich little friends, until they laugh at Jun and leave him.

Jun is pissed, but Connor is massive, and so he is forced to back down.

Connor then takes Khom back to Mahasamut's truck (that Khom had for the day) and helps him finally vent some emotion. Khom is mad at Jun but swallowing it, and Connor encourages him until Khom finally yells in the car. As a reward, Connor gives Khom a kiss.

Khom wants to be bold a little longer, and so he asks Connor if he can request a bigger award. Connor has been pursuing him all day, and making it clear how badly he wants Khom. The kiss also makes Khom realize that he wasn't dreaming the other night, Connor definitely took advantage of him when he was drunk.

But Khom is so thirsty that he doesn't care right now.

Connor lays Khom's seat down in the truck and gives Khom the best blowjob of his life, but won't let Khom touch him in response. He swallows most of the cum and feeds Khom a little, visibly becoming feral watching Khom shyly lick it off his fingers.

But when Khom wants to return the favor, Connor just straightens up as if nothing happened and drives Khom back home. Khom feels embarrassed and humiliated. Connor is visibly hard in his pants, but clearly he's decided Khom is incapable of taking care of him. As the night goes on, Khom sinks deeper and deeper into just feeling like some slut.

Khom takes Connor to some dive spots over the next day, but Khom has to stay on the boat while Palm dives with Connor, much to Connor's chagrin. Palm clearly knows Connor and Khom are interested in each other, but Khom's leg cannot get wet.

The next day, Khom takes Connor to a secret beach, one of several the locals kind of keep to themselves. It's isolated, pristine, and quiet. Connor wants to have a picnic, but this beach doesn't have a dock, a detail Khom forgot about. To protect Khom's leg, Connor jumps into the water and carries Khom to shore.

Connor and Khom start making out, and a storm hits. They move beneath an overhang and decide to wait out the storm. It is then that Connor asks Khom how old he is.

All this time, Connor has thought Khom was 16-17. Somehow in Connor's mind that translated to jacking off a drunk and protesting Khom was acceptable, as was giving him a blowjob and making endless sexual overtures to him, but letting Khom touch him sexually was not.

When Connor finds out Khom is 19, all bets are off. Connor and Khom pounce on each other, and have sex on the beach for several hours. Khom is shy and easily embarrassed, which turns Connor on. Connor is into sexual sadism, and Khom finds himself overwhelmingly turned on by the hard and rough sex Connor offers.

But after the sex is over, Khom is again embarrassed. Partly for breaking his own rules and sleeping with a client, but also how shamelessly he begged for Connor to be harder and rougher.

Connor calls Khom "honey", but is clear that that nickname is not the term of endearment, but a reference to his honey-colored skin. He'll also call him "baby", and during sex "slut". Khom, hiding his own self-loathing and shame for having sex without any kind of relationship, calls Connor "pervert" constantly.

Connor and Khom are insatiable after their sex on the beach. Khom accepts that he's just a slut, that none of this means anything to Connor, but it feels good. They burn through condoms hard and fast, and Connor shows his truest colors in repeatedly forcing orgasms out of Khom, long after Khom as begged for mercy.

But that's part of what he and Khom both enjoy. Because Khom very much does enjoy it.

Connor also comes to Khom's house to have real, authentic local food made by Khom's mother. He's polite and charming, and interested in learning about Khom. Connor finds out Khom is in college, studying on the mainland to a degree (he's in a small local school in the city where the ferry to the island picks up tourists), and that is as far as Khom has ever been.

Khom expresses some jealousy of friends of his who have been to Bangkok, and how it's a dream of his to go there someday. It's a bit subtle, but he expresses a desire to go further, and some disappointment that he won't.

That night, Connor calls his best friend Tongrak, and makes a few demands.

---

The next evening, as Khom is walking with Connor along a beach, Connor tells Khom that he will be leaving the next day. His vacation time is used up.

Khom is devastated, but tries not to show it. He's fallen in love with Connor over the last week and a half, thoroughly and truly, and while he always knew this day was coming, he is heartbroken. Khom knows he has no right to ask Connor to stay, he's just some islander who spread his legs for the man.

Connor then tells Khom that he'd like it if Khom left with him. He tells Khom he arranged a spot for him at a university, a private dorm, and will give Khom a large living allowance in exchange for Khom sleeping with Connor whenever he asks. Khom won't live with Connor, and Connor will mostly leave him alone, but they'll have sex at least once a week.

Khom is shattered.

He already thought of himself as a slut for throwing himself at a tourist, but Connor's words are shredding what dignity he thought he had in believing their attraction was mutual. Connor knows Khom's family isn't wealthy, and he knows Khom helps his father with work as much as possible, so Connor helpfully mentions Khom can send the money back to his parents to make things easier for them.

But Connor, growing up in privelige, doesn't understand how that sounds. Like he's looking down on Khom's family and what they have. Like he's saying they're so poor that they have to sell their son into sexual slavery just to make ends meet. Khom's family isn't wealthy, but they have as much as they need, and they're happy.

Khom punches Connor and runs away, hiding on a remote beach as he sobs. Everything he thought he had with Connor was a lie. Connor only saw him as some poor island boy who he could make his personal hooker.

Every nasty thing Type said to him is at the foreground of his mind as he processes his and Connor's relationship through an increasingly negative lense.

---

Khom stays out all night, hiding from the world. He doesn't leave the beach until Mahasamut comes to find him there, letting him know that Mut personally saw Connor off onto the boat. He's gone for good.

And he knows what went down. Mut tries to console Khom by saying he should have agreed to it, then made Connor pay not with his money, but with his heart. That's what Mahasamut would do if he was in Khom's shoes.

Khom brushes Mahasamut off, and tries to go back to his life.

But Connor had pissed off Jun a week ago, humiliating him in front of his rich friends and making them dump him in disgrace.

Jun asked around locals who worked at the resort, and found out that Khom was in Connor's room most nights. He also found out the trash of that room was filled with used condoms every day.

Jun jumps Khom outside of a local shop one evening. He picks a fight with Khom, who initially tries to put up a fight in return. Jun outs Khom as gay to the whole island, which takes a lot of the fight out of Khom as Jun loudly yells about all the used condoms in Connor's room and how Khom is some hooker who spread it for money because his family is poor.

And then Jun really brutlly starts wailing on Khom, and Khom's only awareness through the pain is that everyone is just watching. No one is helping him. They look vaguely disgusted (likely at the overall spectacle, but he reads it as them being disgusted with him).

---

Khom loses consciousness, and Jun finally stops. A friend of Mahasamut's in the crowd calls the man, and while Mahasamut rushes to the area, the friend takes Khom to the hospital (you don't get the friend's name, but it's not Palm).

Khom regains consciousness enough to refuse to stay at the hospital, so Mahasamut comes and picks him up. The next time Khom wakes up, he's in Mut's shack, in his bed, with the older guy watching over him.

Mahasamut tells Khom that he bent arms and convinced as many people as he could to keep what Jun said quiet- about him sleeping with Connor and about him being gay. But Khom knows it's impossible for Mahasamut to silence enough people. Word has probably already gotten back to his parents.

Khom is terrified, positive his parents will throw him out for being gay, and feeling like garbage for ever sleeping with Connor. Mahasamut recommends he leave the island and go back to his dorm on the mainland, to give himself some time away for things to quiet down. Khom was already thinking along the same lines.

Mahasamut delivers Khom to the pier looking absolutely horrific, and Khom leaves without ever speaking to his family.

Over the next two weeks, Khom lives in absolute terror. He won't leave his room, barely eats, and can't sleep. Every footstep in the hallway he's scared it's someone coming to attack him for being gay. He won't answer any messages from anyone, and every ring of his phone makes him physically ill.

He also sinks deeper and deeper into every negative thought Connor's offer put into his mind. That he's only a slut, inhuman, delusional for ever thinking anyone could be attracted to him.

---

Connor, meanwhile, hasn't stopped thinking about the fight with Khom. It's eating him alive, and he's become short tempered and angry.

He knows he fucked up, that rage is directed inward. He arranged the university for Khom because he could see Khom's desire to study and grow beyond the confines of the island to learn and see the world.

He arranged the dorm to give Khom a chance to build his own life, because things could end with Connor at any time. That's how dating works. He wanted Khom stable. He mentioned sending money home because he misread Khom's devastation at his offer as Khom worrying about not being able to help his father with work.

And he mentioned sex in exchange because he's always teasing Khom with sex. But he fully understands how Khom could have taken it so wrongly, and is pissed at himself for not chasing after Khom and explaining it all clearly. But Khom blocked his number, and he has no way of reaching him.

Eventually, Connor has pissed Tongrak off enough that his friend tells him to just go talk to Khom. He has no vacation time left, so he flies down to the south on the weekend. He gets ahold of Mahasamut, who only tells him Khom is no longer on the island.

Connor remembers that Khom attended university, and so he gets a hotel on the mainland and intends to search the campus for any sign of him.

---

Desperate to at least forget about Connor, Khom installs a hookup app on his phone. He has thoroughly crashed, and since he's only worthy of being a slut, he will be one. He finds a guy who is a bit old, a bit dumpy, but it's a foreigner who has green eyes.

But when Khom goes to meet the guy, forcing himself to step outside, the man is vastly different from his picture. Khom becomes more and more uncomfortable as the man leads him up to his hotel room, and tries to back out entirely. The man refuses to take no for an answer and drags Khom through the hallway.

Just before the man can throw Khom into his room, Khom is saved by a furious Connor. Connor happened to see Khom in the lobby- this is Connor's hotel- and after weeks feeling guilty for what he did to Khom, he's pissed as all hell to see Khom following some random man up to his room.

Connor drags Khom to his own room and throws him inside, ready to fight. He calls Khom a slut, but Khom becomes immediately defiant. Khom doesn't see himself as having anything left, he's utterly drowning and doesn't know if he can survive, so he cuts off Connor and tells him he accepts the deal. He'll be Connor's personal whore.

Connor is angry, and Khom is determined. He throws Khom on the bed and is extremely rough with him. By the end he's more gentle, forcing Khom to cum until he's numb, and it's time to go to the dorm so Khom can grab a backpack of personal items to leave with Connor.

But Connor was rougher than he'd ever been, and Khom is covered in bruises.

After that, Khom retreats into himself. He barely speaks, and even then only when Connor pushes. The only thing he says of his own volition is begging Connor to not make him get on an airplane (Khom is terrified of flying).

He doesn't know where Connor is taking him. Literally all he knows about Connor is his age, that he's Canadian, and that he speaks Thai. Not how he learned it, not where he lives, not what he does.

Connor relents, and they board a 16 hour bus ride to Bangkok. Khom is extremely uncomfortable. Connor was well beyond his tolerance the previous night, and it physically hurts to even sit on the bus seat. Khom pretends to sleep the whole ride to Bangkok, but he's too sick to his stomach at what he's doing. That he's sold himself.

He let Connor go beyond his tolerance because he believes that as a sex slave, he has no right to say no to Connor. Even if he protests in bed, they are insincere and part of his and Connor's CNC kink they developed on the island. He never fights it, never limits it. Even though it hurt.

Connor watches Khom the whole ride. He feels guilty for the bruises on Khom's sides, and knows he has to be in pain. But Connor can't figure out why the boy let him go that far. He was trying to get Khom to stop him. Pushing the limits so Khom would push back.

He doesn't know what happened the past two weeks, but looking at Khom and really studying him, he can see the boy is way too thin, and there are dark, deep bags under his eyes. He is pale and utterly terrified of something.

The bus hits traffic and they get to Bangkok later than anticipated. Connor can't miss work, if he knew he might have been able to take a personal day, but everything happened too fast, and he has meetings lined up until late at night.

Connor rushes Khom back to his apartment, and it's then that Khom very pitifully asks if Connor lives in Bangkok, then quickly apologizes for asking him anything personal. He also only calls Connor "sir".

Connor realizes that Khom internalized what he'd done on the island- keeping personal information private to the point where Khom thought he had no right to know absolutely anything.

There isn't time to explain, so Connor just tells Khom he can put his things on the sofa, and Connor will be back late that night. Khom pokes around the room a little after Connor leaves, but doesn't touch anything. He was told he could sit on the sofa, so that must be the only spot Connor would let a whore dirty in his home.

He looks out at the city, so overwhelmingly different from home, and spends the day balled up on the sofa crying.

---

That night, Connor comes home to a pitch black apartment. He realized with Khom's question about his personal life what Khom must be thinking, and starts to put the pieces together that Khom genuinely believes he has no rights.

Connor feels crushingly guilty. Khom is a naiive boy, and he's always known this. He wasn't careful enough in how he handled Khom, and knows now Khom must have been in agony their night together before coming to Bangkok.

When Connor sees the dark and empty apartment, his heart breaks. He thinks Khom must have left, fleeing him and his abuse. But then he turns on the light and finds Khom stirring on the sofa.

While Connor is relieved initially, he sees the black bags under Khom's eyes are only worse, and what's more, Khom is still in the same clothes. When he asks Khom, gently, why Khom didn't shower, Khom says Connor didn't give him permission.

Connor's heart breaks, and just when he thinks he can't feel any more guilt for how he's spoken to and treated Khom, he dares to ask if Khom has eaten anything. Khom hasn't, because Connor didn't give him permission to use the refrigerator. Khom references Connor's initial offer, how Khom isn't supposed to be in Connor's personal home, he'll have a spot of his own where he's kept until Connor wants to use him.

Connor tells Khom to forget everything he said on the island. The home is as much Khom's as it is Connor's, and he has complete reign over it. He can sleep in any bed he wants, use the television, use everything he wants right down to Connor's toothbrush if he needs it, and empty the fridge as much as he wants.

Khom showers and Connor tries to coax some emotion out of him by asking Khom what he wants to eat. But every food Khom has heard of in Bangkok (from Type) are pastries, and Connor feels worse and worse seeing the flicker of hope leave Khom's eyes each time he tells Khom he can't have it (the shops are closed, and Khom will probably make himself sick eating sweets after not eating for days).

Khom shuts down again, and tells Connor he will eat whatever Connor wants him to. Connor takes him out and orders too much food, feeling worse and worse as he watches Khom devour it. Khom doesn't eat a lot usually, and how quickly he shovels the food down tells Connor how much he's starved himself.

Before going home, Connor takes him to a grocery store. Khom won't ask for or buy anything, he's acting odd again and has retreated. So Connor leaves him by the entrance to sit while Connor buys more food to fill the fridge up with, plus any prepackaged pastries still left.

Back at the apartment, he puts all the food on a shelf in the fridge and reminds Khom that the whole fridge is his to use as he wants, but also emphasizes that the foods he put there today, Khom should think of as his and his alone. It's Connor's way to try and cover himself- if Khom doens't believe he can use anything in the kitchen, he at least has to believe that there is food that is HIS and he can eat at will.

Connor then gives Khom a cardkey to access the apartment, so Khom can wander freely. There are only two in existence, his and Connor's. Khom finally starts to believe that Connor is sincere, that maybe things will be alright.

And then Connor hands Khom a wad of cash.

From Connor's standpoint: Bangkok is more expensive than the island by a mile. He doesn't want Khom to have to sit around all week until the weekend when Connor can take him places. Doesn't want him dwelling on things in the apartment alone, and wants him to have the freedom to go to pastry shops and see museums, all the things Khom mentioned wanting to do back on the island.

But what Khom sees is Connor giving him his first payment. Reminding him, lest Khom get too happy, that he's nothing more than a prostitute that Connor has bought.

Connor can't figure out why Khom's face goes completely blank. He doesn't even hear Connor anymore, just puts the money at the bottom of his backpack and pulls Connor to the bedroom.

While Connor tries to get Khom to speak to him, Khom strips and lays on the bed, forcing his legs apart and telling Connor to go ahead.

All of Connor's self-loathing and guilt come roaring to the surface. He repeatedly tries to explain to Khom that the money wasn't in exchange for sex, but Khom has completely broken, even further than he knew he could break. He won't listen to the explanations or excuses, he won't hear any of it. He begs Connor to just use him, saying he needs Connor to do it, because he can't take feeling any worse than he already does. He feels worthless and like garbage, and if Connor won't let him do the one thing he thinks he's worth, he won't be able to take it anymore.

Connor snaps. He tells Khom he has no interest in having sex with him, and tells Khom to instead touch himself while Connor watches. He reminds Khom that Khom can't get hard without some pain, and forces Khom to finger himself, even though he's still swollen and bruised from the rough sex 2 nights before.

But Khom is too tired, too heartbroken, and too overwhelmed. Connor unceremoneously extends a leg and shoves his big toe into Khom's ass, and between the pain and Connor's command- which Khom's body has always obeyed above Khom's own will- he's able to get hard.

Eventually, Connor withdraws and Khom's fingers take their place, but he still can't get off. It's exhaustion, the bad kind of pain, and on top of all of that, Connor is glaring at Khom with only cold disgust on his face.

And Khom doesn't know that disgust is turned inward. He thinks Connor is disgusted with him.

Khom's already fragile mind breaks and he starts to openly sob, and tries to get away. Connor climbs onto the bed and starts roughly fingering Khom while making Khom continue stroking himself. He ignores all of Khom's sobbing and pleas for Connor to stop.

In a way, this is what Connor has wanted though- Khom holds everything inside, he keeps everything to himself and doesn't express himself, and that's always been the problem. On the island in the happier times- he never knew how much Khom was internalizing the dirty talk and all of that. How ashamed Khom was of himself every time they had sex.

So Connor takes on a gentler tone and tells Khom to keep crying. Eventually, he manages to make Khom cum, and Khom begs forgiveness for getting off first, and tries to pull at Connor's pants, even though he's still shaking and crying.

Connor punches the bed and storms out of the room, leaving Khom alone in his own cum, still crying.

Connor is utterly disgusted with himself, more than ever before. He likes when he makes Khom cry in bed, but a desperate, horny kind of crying. Not that soul-crushing sadness.

Connor doesn't sleep all night, and neither does Khom. Connor is horrified by his own actions, and vows not to touch Khom sexually again. He also decides to hold off explaining everything. He needs to build Khom back up mentally, to heal his psyche first and foremost.

He intends to build Khom's faith in him through actions, and when Khom is strong enough and has had some good days and full nights of sleep, then explain it all.

The next day, Khom pretends to be asleep when Connor tries to check on him, and Connor leaves to go to work. He leaves work early and raids every pastry store he can find, buying everything Khom mentioned the night before and then anything that Connor thought had sufficient sugar content.

When he gets home, Khom is again gone. But he walks in a few minutes later- he'd gone to the grocery store. Khom won't look at him and is visibly weak. When Connor says he thought Khom might have left him, Khom just says he doesn't have anywhere to go, but will leave if Connor makes him.

Khom thinks Connor is mad about last night, about Khom not being able to satisfy him after Connor paid good money for it. And now he thinks Connor is going to throw him out on the street.

Connor reassures Khom that will never happen. He shows Khom all of the foods and treats he brought, trying to bring any warmth to Khom's face.

A cream puff does the trick. It brings back a little bit of light, and Connor basks in that. When it comes time to go to bed, Khom again thinks he's expected to have sex with Connor, but Connor only holds him, saying he misses his warmth from their nights on the island sharing a bed.

For the first time in weeks, Khom sleeps deeply.

---

Connor takes Khom on a date, bringing him on the metro to the mall he bought all of Khom's treats from, and buying even more, anything Khom's eyes linger on. He also takes Khom to a sit-down restaurant that has southern food, something Khom is more familiar with.

When two girls flirt with Connor, he makes sure they know he belongs to KHOM. Khom is already overwhelmed by how overt a gay couple can be in the city compared to the environment he grew up on, and is both touched and put on edge by how overt Connor is.

That night, Connor realizes with a start that he's acting as mooney with Khom as his father acted when he fell in love with his stepmother, and realizes he's now sincerely fallen in love with Khom.

Things get significally better for Khom from there.

Connor is always gentle with him, asks permission to even touch Khom, and refuses to touch him sexually in any way. The most he allows himself is a peck on the cheek when he comes home from work.

He is also very aware that Khom won't ask him personal questions because of his previous deflection, so Connor makes a point of bringing things up. When his mother calls and Khom's eyes are wide at Connor speaking to her in Thai, Connor goes out of his way to explain that his step-mother is Thai.

Connor tells Khom about his family- his father, his beloved step-mother, and his half-brother. He promises he'll introduce Khom to them when they next come back to Thailand (a yearly trip).

This does help pierce through some of Khom's still present thoughts about being a prostitute. If Connor thought of him as only a sex object, then he wouldn't introduce Khom to his family. That's something you do for a person you like, right?

Khom shyly asks for permission to get a job helping at the kitchen of a small local restaurant. He reassures Connor it won't interfere with his "duties" with Connor, and won't tire him out. Connor is worried about Khom feeling overwhelmed, he's still very much recovering from a massive breakdown, but he won't restrict Khom in any way.

Besides, the work gives Khom money of his own, and Connor is afraid of giving Khom money again, afraid of Khom misunderstanding and going back to his dead-eyed state.

Connor also, after a month, has sex with Khom again. But only because Khom would really like it, and he refuses to do anything rough (even though, again, Khom really likes rough).

This time, to make up for all of the bad in the past, he is as gentle and soft as possible. His goal is to make Khom completely melt with happiness. Eventually they can get back to their wilder sexcapades, but Connor won't risk Khom, not while he's still picking himself back up.

---

More time passes, weeks, and Khom has saved up his money. He feels more secure with Connor now, and is starting to accept that Connor doesn't see him as a prostitute, and probably never has.

Khom has been gone for a long time now, and he gets a message from his old college that he's now missed too many classes and won't be given credit for the year. Khom decides to go and formally withdraw, and go to finally face his parents back on the island.

Connor desperately wants to go with him, but Khom wants a chance to handle things himself. He feels guilty for hiding. He spends his paycheck on gifts for his parents, and a nice handbag for his mother. Khom will go ahead, and in a few days Connor will fly down to join him.

Either to meet Khom's parents as Connor's boyfriend, or to console Khom if they throw him out.

---

Khom leaves for the bus terminal (man will NOT fly). Not long after he leaves, Connor's best friend Tongrak shows up.

Connor wasn't lying to Khom about there only being two keys to the apartment, it's just that the apartment is owned by Tongrak, who has the master key. He cuts the rent for Connor and their actress friend Vivie in exchange for being able to wander in and out of their places whenever he's feeling lonely.

Tongrak is a writer, but is bitterly lonely. He has major aversions to romantic relationships because of family trauma, and relies on his friends when it all becomes too much. Tongrak wanted to meet Khom, he's insanely curious, but he is too late.

Something Tongrak does with Connor when things become too hard is to just sleep with Connor hugging him. To feel physical contact. They've done this since their college days, even though neither has any sexual interest in the other whatsoever, and to be clear this is not a sexual act.

Tongrak flings himself on the bed, ignoring Connor's grumbling that he's laying on Khom's pillow and his perfume is covering Khom's scent. He only means to lay down for a little, but falls asleep.

---

Khom gets to the bus terminal and realizes he mixed up one of Connor's bags for the one his mother's gift is in. He was getting the last bus of the night, but he decides to surprise Connor by going home and leaving in the morning instead.

When Khom gets back to the apartment, he finds it dark, and follows a trail of Tongrak's discarded clothes (man isn't sleeping naked, just to be clear, he just likes wearing layers) to the bedroom he and Connor share.

And finds Connor sleeping curled around a painfully beautiful man Khom has never seen before.

Khom drops the bag he's holding and Connor sleepily calls out "Love?" (in Thai), pulling the man tighter.

Tongrak's name means "Must Love", the "Rak" part, his nickname, meaning "Love". It sounds like a pet name- and what's worse, one Connor never used with Khom.

To Khom, it looks like Connor couldn't wait to replace him with another, more beautiful man the moment he was gone. That Connor must have been just playing house all this time, while keeping his usual men off to the side.

---

Tongrak is woken in the morning by Connor viciously cursing. He woke up to find a note saying only "Goodbye", sitting on top of the original wad of cash he gave Khom on his first night in Bangkok.

Tongrak feels horrific. They figure out Khom must have missed his bus and come home, finding them napping together. Connor has told Khom about his family, but Tongrak never came up. He doesn't know, and it must have looked horrific.

Tongrak is the level head in the moment. While Connor is going insane, Tongrak reminds him that Khom will take the bus, which is a 16 hour ride. The flight, meanwhile, is only a couple hours long and can get him south infinitely faster, and with time to spare.

Connor feels horrible, imagining how much pain Khom must be in. He grabs his things to rush south, pausing only to make one fast stop on his way to the airport.

---

Khom arrives on the island feeling worse than he ever has. He cried the entire bus ride down, and feels more self loathing and disgust than he's ever felt.

But when he gets off the boat, Connor is already there.

In front of absolutely everyone, and at full volume, Connor yells that he loves Khom, and belongs only to Khom. He shows Khom that he's added Khom's name to a tattoo on his back of a tiger- a tattoo Khom always liked to stroke when they had sex.

Khom yells about catching Connor in bed with another man, and begs Connor to just leave him alone. He says that if he's with Connor, he won't be able to stand the pain any more, and is scared that one day he'll end up killing himself.

Connor immediately reassures Khom that Tongrak isn't a lover, but a friend. Tongrak himself is waiting with his phone close by to explain everything the moment Connor calls- though they don't do that until later on.

Khom is in so much pain, but Connor is giving him a lifeline in trying to explain. At least for the moment, to stop the pain for a moment, Khom says he'll believe him, and lets Connor kiss him.

Mahasamut, the shithead who is all about the drama, starts the clapping.

Khom and Connor move to a private area, where Khom listens patiently as Connor explains absolutely everything. Every misunderstanding, his intentions, the meanings behind every action and look, apologizing and begging forgiveness the whole time.

He also calls Tongrak, and Khom speaks to him. Tongrak feels absolutely wretched for causing the misunderstanding, and swears he will also apologize in person.

With everything out in the open, Khom feels better than he has in months. Things are still raw, but he feels safer with Connor, and understands Connor's intentions more.

It isn't total forgiveness- it's mentioned in Love Sea, taking place 5 months later, that Connor is still extremely sensitive to mentions of what happened in Love Sand and Khom still gets angry about it, but they're happy, together, and Khom feels secure enough to bicker and fight with Connor (who always lets Khom win).

Khom goes home with Connor, and while Khom's parents have some questions, they accept his sexuality. They found out about what happened to Khom when Mahasamut appeared at their house the day after Khom fled the island, dragging a bloody Jun with him to crawl on the ground and beg their forgiveness for hurting Khom.

Mahasamut has also spent the months Khom has been away making sure everyone on the island knows the same pain will be brought down on anyone who fucks with someone for being LGBT.

Khom will live with Connor in Bangkok, but for the next several months, he'll return to the island once a month for at least a weekend- possibly up to a week- to be with his parents. Connor agrees, even if it makes him sad that Khom will be gone.

Also, in acknowledgement that it's kind of stupid that Connor had time to get a tattoo and STILL got to the island several hours before Khom, Khom agrees to try flying instead of the day-long bus ride.

When the next school year starts up, Khom will go to the university in Bangkok that Connor and Tongrak had arranged before Connor proposed his disaster of a deal back when they first met. Connor will support him through his studies, and promises to never limit Khom in any way.

Khom also receives a long text from Type. Over the months since he last saw Khom, Type has fallen in love with his roommate Tharn, and the two are now a couple. He begs Khom's forgiveness for everything cruel he said- both on the beach to Khom's face, and over the years that Khom has been by his side as a friend.

Khom forgives Type, and the two maintain a social media friendship, not meeting up in Bangkok, but staying in contact via SMS. Having Type back in his life as a friend helps soothe a lot of the remaining pain, and Khom feels more stable and secure than ever... Even though Connor feels a bit insecure that Khom is texting with his first love again...

By the timeline of Love Sea, Connor and Khom are mostly past their issues from Love Sand, and Connor has brought Khom to Canada to give him his first taste of international travel and show him the world. Khom has also been accepted by Connor's family, quickly becoming a welcome addition and favorite.

Meanwhile, Connor and Khom start to turn their attention on Tongrak, and think it might be a fun kind of chaos to send Connor's favorite annoyance (Tongrak) to meet Khom's favorite annoyance (Mahasamut).

Though neither can seem to decide if they'll hit it off, or if Mahasamut will annoy Tongrak to death...

#love sea #love sand #khom #kom #connor #connorkhom #connorkom #mahasamut #tongrak

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jokeroutsubs · 3 months ago

Text

[ENG translation] The love status of the members of the most famous Slovenian band.

Joker Out has finally been revealed!

Original article written by Iva Mila Brigljevic for net.hr and published on the 5th of November 2024 on NET.hr website.

English translation by IG marija_rocen, review by @moonlvster and IG mia_djordjevic_ig, proofread by @flowerlotus8 .

FOR NET.HR / The love status of the members of the most famous Slovenian band Joker Out has finally been revealed!

Their Balkan tour will start soon as well.

Slovenian band Joker Out wins the audience over with their infectious indie rock sound and energetic performances. Founded in 2016, the band quickly gained popularity in the Balkans due to their authenticity. They gained European fame after their performance at the Eurovision Song Contest in 2023, when they represented Slovenia with the song 'Carpe Diem' and got in the finals. In the finals, they finished 21st with 78 points. Despite the fact that they weren't as successful in the finals, they won the hearts of the audience, so 'Carpe Diem' was on numerous music charts throughout Europe, including Croatia.

This month they will perform at Tvornica Kulture in Zagreb for the second time, and on this occasion we spoke with the band's frontman, Bojan Cvjetićanin.

How has your daily life changed after the Eurovision Song Contest?

Well, I think that certainly none of us have travelled as much as we have travelled in the past year and a half. We've been to a lot of new countries and cities, so we've experienced a lot of new cultures. It was interesting to see where these people come from to our concerts. What is their reality? What is their daily life like? What do they watch? What do they see? What do they feel? What do they hear? So, I'd say that the biggest change happened in the transformation from our wardrobes into suitcases.

Where do you perform most often, which performance would you single out as your best?

We've performed the most in Finland, Poland and probably Germany and England, but there are quite a few places where we played a lot. Honestly, it would be hard for me to single out any performance as undisputedly the best. I know there were a couple of performances where we were very surprised by the reaction of the audience. These were, for example, our concert at Belgrade Beer Fest, our concert at Šalata in Zagreb, and our concert at Ruisrock in Finland. Poland also knocked us off our feet, and so on and so forth.

Do fans stop you on the street?

They stop us sometimes. Especially in Slovenia, and it also happens in Finland and the Balkan countries, but it's a very positive thing.

Do you plan to focus only on the Balkan scene or the European scene as well?

The next tour, where we will present our third studio album, starts on the 22nd of November, and it will only be in the Balkans. Our plan and wish was, kind of, to enjoy the tour as much as possible, and that's why we chose this region where we are at home, but next year we will surely return to Europe.

Which performer from the Balkans would you like to collaborate and record a song with?

Given that I'm currently the only one answering, I wouldn't want to answer on behalf of everyone, but I can say for myself that I'd like a song with Zdravko Čolić¹.

¹Zdravko Čolić is a Bosnian-Serbian pop singer and is widely considered one of the greatest vocalists and cultural icons of the former Yugoslavia.

How do you spend your free time?

We spend our free time in different ways, but let's say we do sports. We like reading books. There are some chefs in the band and we love fishing, too.

What's the love status of the band members?

We're absolutely in love with each other and ourselves.

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #jan peteh #nace jordan #kris guštin #kris gustin #jure macek #year: 2024 #source: net.hr #og language: croatian #jo: all members #type: article

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neysaadept · 1 month ago

Note

congratulations on 175 followers 🎉🎉 I was wondering if you are comfortable in writing something about a music band member reader, maybe guitarist or bassist with Emily? Something like stage diving (jumps off the stage into the crowd during a live show, the crowd typically catches and lifts the performer as they dive).

The inspiration is from the prompt 97(when you fall, I will always be there to catch you) and the song Jump Then Fall of Taylor Swift, kind of “jump and fall both physically and emotionally.”

And again congratulations about 175 followers! And l am looking forward to see more about the story of Prometheus!

I'm glad we talked a little about this and hope you like the rest of the prompt coming alive. I had fun researching this.

Ecstasy When I Fall

Emily Prentiss x Female!Bassist Reader

Tags - No use of Y/N, Emily sometime before the Lauren Arc, swearing, minor sexual content, established relationship. Minors DNI

Summary - Please refer to the ask for summary!

AO3

Word Count: 1.3k

It finally happened – headlining a small venue tour in the Midwest with your indie rock band. All the years of showcasing your talent online through Twitter, TikTok, and Instagram, traveling anywhere that would give you a chance to play live, even if it meant for free, sending out demos to venues and uploading your music to Spotify, Bandcamp and Apple music, and marketing yourself on your own website with merchandise to buy got you a loyal, and very loud, fanbase.

Tonight, you were at the Cobra Lounge in Chicago and the place was at capacity because of your band. Patrons filled the tables in the back and all the barstools, pumping their fists in the air, whooping and hollering between drinking and eating. What really got the endorphins skyrocketing is the crowd surrounding the small stage at the back of the venue. The basic lighting was enough to provide a colorful effect and keep focus on your lead singer who was working the crowd during the chorus having them shout back the lyrics.

Dozens of faces were looking up at you, others had their eyes closed letting the music take over and get lost in the rhythms, others slapped the stage floor to play along in time with the music – even one person was trying to parrot you as you pluck the bass strings. You smile at them as you plant your non-dominant leg atop the speaker and head bang during the next riff.

When you bring your head back your eyes immediately locked with the best thing that had happened to you since the band was able to pool together enough money to buy a van to cart all of you and your gear around. Beautiful brown eyes are only eclipsed by the bright smile that your girlfriend has for you. You were lucky that Emily Prentiss was between cases to catch a flight in to see you play. Just like you were lucky she happened to be at the Black Cat in D.C. when you were in town trying to extend your fanbase. It was an all-female rock line up that night, and she wanted to unwind after a hard case. She vibed with your sound and after the concert ended up vibing with you in the red room during shared drinks. You exchanged numbers and a lingering kiss goodbye full of promise that night.

That was almost a year ago.

And now, you’re winking at her before blowing a kiss. You watch as she throws her head back in delighted laughter while clapping. The rush of happiness mixing with the euphoria of playing live – the cheering of the crowd, the beat of the drums and your notes vibrating through the stage, the rhythm of the guitar bringing it all together in a harmonious symphony of rock was fucking intense.

Adrenaline courses through your body, high on the sounds surrounding you and the smell of sweat and booze. Emily and everyone around her had their hands in the air in excitement. The scene felt electric and there seemed to be an unspoken connection coalescing with understanding and in the next beat, the air felt supercharged.

You stop plucking away for a moment and point at the crowd in front of you with an unspoken question, nodding along as you see the crowd wave you on. Some are jumping up and down with anticipation and there were riotous ‘Come ons!’ encouraging you. Emily was laughing when your eyes met because it finally dawned on her what you were about to do. Your eyes narrow in question, and she nods.

Then you let go and trust in the moment.

You step off the speaker and raise your arms in the air as forewarning and the crowd erupts loudly as you quickly take the two steps it takes to get to the edge of the stage and launch off of it. You twist at the same time to make sure to land on your back, forcing your legs up as much as possible to not accidentally kick anyone. You’re in firm control of your instrument, hugging it to your body lengthwise as you undulate under the control of the crowd below you. You feel light and euphoric with the trust you placed in crowd and manage to start playing again which only makes the moment even more intense as your passed around.

“FUCK YEAH!” you cry out, feeling as if the connection had firmly cemented. You vaguely hear your lead singer adlibbing the lyrics based on your stage dive along with the pounding of glasses and bottles urging you and the crowd to keep going.

You feel weightless and free and safe. So safe that you closed your eyes as you’re brought down to stand in the crowd. You don’t even have to take a guess as to whose face you’ll be staring into when you open your eyes. You can tell by how familiar the hands were gripping your sides possessively. You rock your head, laughing in exhilaration as you cautiously keep your instrument against you, plucking away as the crowd was patting your head, shoulders, back – really anywhere they could respectfully.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were staring into beautiful brown orbs. Emily was there to catch you, personally making sure that you wouldn’t fall and land safely. People were patting her shoulders and back, just like you, excited that she was the one that got to hold you. Caught up in the moment of absolute perfection and endorphins running high, you capture Emily’s lips in a fierce kiss.

The crowd around the two of you jumped up and down cheering, which only grew louder as the two of you briefly deepened the kiss. It wasn’t for show, no. This was a solidification of the love you felt for one another, and it brings you back to the moment you shared your first real kiss together.

You were in the passenger seat of Emily’s car, biting your lower lip shyly, because you were torn between reaching over to take her hand or leaning over to close the distance and kiss her. You two weren’t shy at the club when you kissed goodbye because the alcohol had taken the edge off inhibitions. Now, this moment was purely a conscious decision in Emily’s car with Taylor Swift of all people playing on the radio.

Every time you smile, I smile And every time you shine, I shine And every time you're here Baby, I'll show you, I'll show you You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah*

Emily was the one to reach out first to cup your cheek with a tender smile. Your eyes grow heavy at her touch and the feel of her thumb lightly caressing your cheek. It sent a shiver straight down your spine and forces an unwanted sigh to escape past your lips. She immediately takes the opportunity to lightly brush your lips together, testing the waters, before you were the one taking over with a wanting moan …

You continue to play through the kiss, even with a teasing tongue sneaking its way into your mouth that generated a surge of want straight through to your core. The familiar taste of cigarettes, sweat and booze grounds you in the moment so it felt as if it were just the two of you. The tactile sensations became dampened by Emily’s kiss, the way she squeezes you harder, to make sure that everywhere here knows that you are hers.

Everyone was witness to the prolific declaration of love. It was a heady sensation of freedom to love and be loved with acceptance.

It was a flawless state of being, the two of you, together.

The bottom's gonna drop out from under our feet I'll catch you, I'll catch you When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you The time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry But I'll hold you through the night until you smile*

*Jump Then Fall - Taylor Swift

#emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily x reader #emily x you #criminal minds x reader #fic request #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfiction

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inkjam-moon · 9 days ago

Text

Colors Chapter Two - Orange

Summary: Your most recent jump has put you into the life of an Idol, but will old feelings get in the way of a new promise?

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 15.2k

TW: Death, medical/hospital talk, cancer mentions, drinking, cunnilingus, sex

“Jeongguk!” You cry, bolting upright, gripping the blanket in your lap tightly. You begin sobbing uncontrollably as you realize; it doesn’t matter anymore, wherever you are now, whenever you are, Jeongguk is not here with you.

You sit up and look around, you’re in a hotel room. You see an iphone on the table and a laptop on the desk. Thank god, you must be somewhere close to where you started. You fling the orange blanket off of you and sprint to the desk, wiping your cheeks as you turn on the computer, thankful that it doesn’t have a password. You immediately bring up the search engine and type in the only name you care about at the moment: Jeon Jeongguk, Hawaii. You thank god it isn’t a popular name, because the first result that comes up is the one you’re looking for.

“Local Japanese veteran suspected in the disappearance of his fiancee.”

Disappearance? Oh no… You keep reading.

“After the clearing of prime suspect Paul Smith, police turn their attention to Jungkook Jeon, fiancee of the missing girl.”

You scroll to the next article.

“Fiancee cleared, girl still missing.”

This doesn’t help, you need to find him now. You go to the whitepages website and type in his information: Jeongguk Jeon, Honolulu, Hawaii. Ding! One result. Kahala Nui Nursing Home. Nursing Home? You look at the date in the bottom of your computer screen. 2012. You suppose Jeongguk would be in his nineties now, you’re just thankful he’s still alive.

You immediately look for a wallet anywhere in the vicinity, finding one inside of a purse; inside waiting is a sleek black credit card with your name on it. Literally. You immediately search for a travel website before realizing you should probably figure out where you are first. You open the map on your phone and click the current location to see you seem to be in Daegu. Perfect. You find the first flight out to Honolulu and purchase the ticket, hoping you have enough money on the card to do so. Transaction Complete. You download your boarding pass just as you hear a beep and then the door to your room opens.

“Y/N, are you ready?”

“Actually I’m going to need a ride to the airport.” You state, turning to see a young man standing there.

“What are you talking about?”

“Uh, family emergency. I have to leave for a week.”

“A week?” The man squeaks. “You have three shows this week and the make a wish thing today.”

“Reschedule them.” You insist, standing up and gathering your things, quickly grabbing a change of clothes and starting to undress until you realize the man is still staring at you in disbelief. “Uh, do you mind?”

“You’re kidding right?” You shake your head and he turns to face the wall. “When did you get shy?”

“Since I just got back from the 40’s.” You joke.

“What?”

“Nevermind.” You say as you change your clothes.

“I’m not taking you to the airport. You can’t just dip out like this.”

“Just reschedule things.”

“Reschedule things. Reschedule a whole week? Oh yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just push back your entire tour. Reschedule every interview. That’s fine. I’m just your manager. I’m just trying to do what’s best for you. ‘Reschedule it Jin’. It’s fine.” He shrugs, throwing his hands up in the air. “Now that you’ve tied the rope around my neck, are you going to kick the chair out from under me too?”

“I don’t have time for this.” You roll your eyes, grabbing your suitcase and heading for the door. “Can you check me out of the hotel too since I assume that’s your job?”

“You assume?” He nearly chokes. “I’ve only been your manager for six years, but apparently that doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“Goodbye Jin.”

“Y/N,” He grabs your arm. “You have to do the make a wish thing before you go.”

“Just push it back a-”

“He might not have a week.”

You sigh. “Three days. Just give me three days and I promise I’ll be back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hawaii.”

He scoffs. “I’m supposed to believe you’re going to Hawaii for a family emergency?”

“I’ll be at a nursing home the whole time. It’s my… my grandfather.”

“I didn’t know your grandfather was still alive. After your parents died I thought…”

“Just barely. And I’m the only one left. I have to go see him. Please Jin.”

Jin sighs, letting go of your arm. “You have three days. And the moment you come back you’re right back on schedule. You won’t have a day off in between your next three shows.”

“Deal.” You agree, opening the door.

“Alright, put your mask on. Let’s get you to the airport.”

You dig through your purse, pulling out a face mask as you walk toward the elevator while Jin calls about a hundred people. You find out his full name is Kim Seokjin as he leads you out of the elevator and out to a black SUV.

“To the arena?” The driver asks.

“There’s been a change of plans Michi. Take us to the airport please.”

“Yes sir.” Michi starts the car and pulls off, obediently driving you to the airport, no questions asked. When you arrive at the airport, Jin grabs your arm before you can get out of the car.

“Remember. Three days. And be careful. No one knew you were coming so you shouldn’t get mobbed, but you don’t have security so stay under the radar.”

“I’ll be careful.” You nod before hopping out of the car, grabbing your bags and heading into the airport.

You breeze through the airport, no one except the security agents that read your name recognize you, and before you know it, you’re sitting on the airplane in first class. Before the airplane takes off, you take the opportunity to google yourself to see why you have a manager.

“Y/N is a Korean singer/songwriter.” Apparently you debuted when you were sixteen under IM entertainment and have been active ever since. During the flight you listen to your own music, thankful that it all sounds familiar to you and you know all the words. Damn. Never in your wildest dreams would you ever think this was a possibility for you to live, but here you are.

You hardly sleep through the twelve hour flight, your mind is too anxious. Will he even remember you? Will he want to see you? When you land you grab your bag and hail a cab to the nursing home, your stomach twisting in knots the entire time. When you arrive, you pay the driver and then head inside, taking off your face mask and walking up to the desk where a woman in scrubs is sitting. Please let you know english.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see my grandfather.” Thank god.

“What’s his name?”

“Jeongguk Jeon.”

She types on her computer and then looks up at you in confusion. “Mr. Jeon doesn’t have any family listed in his file. You said you’re his granddaughter?”

“After my parents died, they were probably taken off his file. I’m all he has left.”

She eyes you suspiciously for a moment before shrugging. “Very well. Name please?”

“Y/N J-Jeon.”

She types in your name, prints out a visitor name tag for you and then stands up, motioning for you to walk with her. You follow her down several long hallways until you reach a door with Jeongguk’s name on it. She knocks as she opens the door. “Mr. Jeon, you have a visitor.” There he is. Sitting in a wheelchair facing toward the window opposite you.

“I don’t want to see the doctor.”

“It’s not the doctor Mr. Jeon. It’s your granddaughter.”

“I don’t have one.” He rasps, waving the nurse away.

She shrugs. “He has some memory problems, but maybe you can help jog them? I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.” The nurse states before disappearing, shutting the door behind you, leaving you alone with Jeongguk for the first time in, well, about seventy-one years.

You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves before crossing the room; the only sound being that of your footsteps, accompanied by your rapidly beating heart. You come to stand in front of him, but he doesn’t spare you a glance and it gives you a chance to study him as he looks out the window.

His hair has greyed to the point where it’s almost white, his face is filled with lines and creases that come with age, but his bunny teeth are still the same, his nose is still too big for his face, and his eyes are the same warm dark brown that you know, only now, they seem laced with an unknown sadness.

You kneel down in front of him, the movement causing him to look at you for the first time, and when he does it’s as if time itself stops. He stares at you, confusion written on his face, like he’s trying to place you and why you look so familiar, and then you see it. You can see the exact moment the memories come flooding back; his mouth drops open with the slightest gasp of recognition as his eyes grow wide, taking in the sight of you, the one he lost so long ago, appearing in front of him as if nothing has changed.

“Y-Y/N?” He whispers, one of his hands coming up to cup your face as if to make sure you’re actually here and not just a figment of his imagination.

“Hi Kook.” You offer a small smile, finally meeting his gaze.

You watch his eyes immediately brim with tears right before he grabs you and pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he sobs softly. You stay like this for a few minutes, enveloped in Jeongguk’s natural scent that you remember so vividly, taking comfort in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you until he pulls back, wiping the tears from your own eyes that you hadn’t even realized were falling.

“I… What… How?” Is all he can manage, staring at you in disbelief. “How?”

“If I told you, you’d think I was crazy.”

“I already do.” He teases with a smile.

You pull a chair up next to Jeongguk and take a seat before explaining everything to him; your childhood, the first jump, the haze and everything that happened after that up until now.

“So I hopped on the first plane here, hoping that you were the you I was looking for.”

“You jump through time?” He clarifies. You nod. “And you couldn’t have told me that sixty years ago?”

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

“I would’ve believed anything. We thought Paul killed you. We thought his goons took you from the bar and killed you. I… I looked everywhere for you. I never stopped. I looked until I couldn’t walk anymore.”

“Jeongguk I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you wasted your life looking for me. I-”

“Shhh.” He shakes his head at you. “Just the thought that one day I might find you, that you might come back to me, it made it all worth it.” He smiles. “And here you are. You haven’t changed at all.”

“Neither have you.”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Have you seen my hair?”

“I have,” You chuckle, brushing his hair back. “But your eyes let me know that you’re the same Jeongguk I fell in love with.”

The two of you sit and chat for a long time. Hours. Jeongguk has you dig in his closet for an old photo album so he can show you everything he did while you were gone. He shows you picture after picture; the day his parents arrived in Hawaii, a week after you disappeared; him and Kono saying goodbye to Bits and Clara; one christmas when the girls came back to hawaii to surprise Kono and they all had dinner; his mugshot from when he was a suspect in your disappearance; a puppy he got; his enlistment photos from joining the US Army; photos from when he was stationed in Vietnam, the friends he made there, and the ones he lost. Overall, Jeongguk lived a good life, but a lonely one.

“Why didn’t you ever get married?” You ask.

“Can you grab my book off the nightstand there? And inside the drawer, there’s a wooden box, that too.” He points to the table beside his bed.

“Are you avoiding my question?” You tease as you stand and retrieve the book.

“No, I’m going to explain it. Give me the book.”

You hand the book and the box to him and sit back down in your chair, watching as he cracks the book open and pulls out his bookmark, handing it to you to look at as he digs through the box. You look at the bookmark closely and let out a soft gasp; it’s a very old, very worn picture that’s been taped up again and again to hold the pieces together and prolong its life, but it’s not the state of the picture that makes your heart ache, it’s what’s in the picture. It’s you. It’s the picture Clara took when you finally got your engagement ring back; you, standing nose to nose with Jeongguk, smiling as bright as the sun, your hands on his chest and his on your waist, the ring shining in the light.

“Jeongguk…” You whisper, turning to see him holding up your ring.

“You were the only one that ever deserved to put this ring on your finger.” He states, taking your hand and placing the ring in your palm.

“You kept it?” You ask, turning the gold band over and marveling at the ruby.

“Getting rid of it would’ve meant letting you go, and I could never bring myself to do that.” You sniffle as you wrap your arms tightly around Jeongguk, placing a kiss on his cheek before pulling back. “I want you to keep this. However long you’re here, in this life, I want you to have it.”

“J-Jeongguk I-”

“It’s yours.” He reminds you. “It always has been.” You nod, unable to speak as you take off your necklace and slip the ring onto the chain, fastening it back in place as Jeongguk begins to cough, bringing a handkerchief up to cover his mouth and then removing it once he’s finished and turning back to look at you.

You look at the corner of his mouth to see something red smeared on his bottom lip.

“Is that… blood?” You mumble, pointing to your own lip.

Jeongguk sighs. “Ah, I was hoping you wouldn’t see.”

“Jeongguk, what is it?”

“Lung cancer. Turns out smoking cigarettes isn’t good for you. It’s a good thing you came when you did, noona. I’m due to go soon.”

“Go…?”

He shrugs. “I’m ninety-two; I didn’t expect to live past thirty. I’ve made my peace with it. And now that I know you’re okay, I’m even more ready.”

“Come back to Korea with me.” You blurt.

“What?” He looks at you, confused.

“I-I have money in this life. I can get you doctors, medicine, anything you need. I can keep you safe.”

“Y/N, I wouldn’t even make the trip home.”

“Why not?”

“I saw the doctor yesterday, but I’ve known for a while. I’ve only got a few days left. My body isn’t strong enough to fight it anymore.”

“Kook no…”

“I’m afraid so.” He smiles sadly. There’s a moment of silence as you think of what to say.

“Jeongguk, would you mind if I stayed with you? Until…”

He nods as a tear slips down his cheek. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

It doesn’t take long at all. You spend all of the next two days together, reminiscing, but Jeongguk’s body is deteriorating rapidly and he only grows weaker. On the third morning, when you wake up in the cot the nurse dragged into Jeongguk’s room for you, you look over and notice Jeongguk is unusually still. You quickly leap up and rush to his side to find that at some point during the night, he passed in his sleep; silently, peacefully; his last words the night before being ‘I love you, noona. Sleep well’.

You weep, devastated at the loss, expecting the haze to come over you at any moment, but in the hours you sit there, nothing changes. You have to accept the fact: you’re stuck here. You gather yourself and when the nurse comes in to check on you again, you tell her you have to go.

Technically Jeongguk’s belongings have been left to the facility, but she lets you take whatever you want. You grab the photo album, the wooden box, and Jeongguk’s book, cradling them in your arms and walking back out to the front desk to work out a few details. You have Jeongguk’s body sent back to Busan so that you can bury him there, along with any of his things the facility doesn’t want, and then you pack your things and head back to the airport; you promised Jin you’d only be gone for three days.

When you arrive back in Daegu, Michi picks you up from the airport. He doesn’t say anything, simply giving you a sympathetic glance as he starts the car and immediately drives you to some sort of a stadium where things already seem to be busy, and it’s only eight in the morning.

When you arrive, Jin immediately escorts you inside. You arrive backstage where you’re fitted with a microphone, your in-ear monitors, and then pushed out on stage where things are still being set up. “Okay, we’re just going to run through the opening to get the sound adjusted and then we’ll take it from the top.” You look down at the soundbooth to see someone giving you a thumbs up.

“Got it.” You nod, walking out to the center of the stage and looking around. A strange and yet familiar melody starts playing as you take in the size of the stadium. There’s no way you sold tickets for all these seats. There’s nothing you wanted more when you were little than to have a life like this, but you never imagined it’d happen, not even in this bizarre way.

You run through the rehearsal with no problems and are escorted back to the green room afterwards to eat lunch while Jin barrages you with a thousand questions, but you ignore him mostly, stating that you simply don’t want to talk about it until after the concert is over. He sighs and nods in understanding before leaving the room. You relax for a few hours before you’re escorted to hair and makeup.

It takes about an hour and a half for them to get you fixed up, and then on your way to get changed, Jin stops you and pulls you back toward the green room.

“Jin, I have to get changed.”

“No, remember you have the make a wish thing first.”

“Oh, right. Okay.”

“His name is Taewon. He’s eight years old and he was diagnosed with leukemia when he was five.”

“Oh my god that’s awful.”

“I know. He was in remission for a year before the cancer came back and they say he’s… not doing well. His older brother takes him to some sort of children’s hospital in the United States that allows him treatment without having to pay. Their parents were killed in a car accident two years ago, so it’s just the two of them and Taewon’s greatest wish was to attend one of your concerts. I figured a small meet and greet wouldn’t be too taxing for you, but please be nice.”

“Of course I’ll be nice.” You scoff. How could he think you wouldn’t be? Jin knocks on the open door of the green room and pokes his head in.

“Taewon! I’ve got a surprise for you.” Jin enters the room and waves you in. You walk in after him to see a small, frail looking boy with a face mask on and a beanie covering what you assume to be a hairless head. Though you can’t see his mouth, the way his eyes light up tell you that he’s beaming.

“Oh my goodness…” He whispers.

“Hi Taewon! It’s nice to meet you!” You bow politely before walking over to him and shaking his hand.

“Oh my gosh it’s really you!” He squeaks. “You’re really Y/N!”

“It’s really me, how are you doing?" You crouch down in front of him.

"I'm great now!" He tugs on the sleeve of the tall blonde man next to him. "Hyung look!"

"I see her bud." The blonde man nods and smiles a rather dazzling half smile. "Why don't you tell her what you wanted to say?" Taewon looks down at the ground and shuffles his feet, seeming embarrassed. "Go on." He urges.

"I-I wanted to say that you're my most favorite-est singer in the whole world."

"Aw, thank you so much Taewon!" You smile brightly at him. "What's your favorite song?"

He perks up at this. "My favorite is 'Keep Going'! It's my theme song during treatment! My mommy used to sing it to me before she died." Your heart breaks a little when you remember that this boy is incredibly, and most likely, terminally ill, and to make life worse, his parents were also taken from him.

"Wonnie, she doesn't need to know that." The older boy scolds.

"No, it's okay." You shake your head before looking back at Taewon. "I just lost someone very close to me as well." You tell him, reaching up to grab the ring that hangs from your necklace.

"You did? Who was it?"

"Someone I loved very much."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Taewon whispers, patting your shoulder.

"Thank you." You smile at him again. "I really appreciate that."

"Do you need a hug?" He asks.

You nod. "That would be great." You get down on your knees and allow Taewon to wrap his arms around you for a quick hug. "Are you ready for the show?" You ask as he pulls away, allowing you to stand back up.

"Yes!" He shouts, clapping his hands together.

"We should probably go find our seats. I'm sure you have to finish getting ready." The older boy states.

You turn to Seokjin and whisper to him. "Did they get front row seats, or...?"

Seokjin looks panicked at your words. "You didn't specify so we gave them the best that was still available."

"Hm..." You think for a moment. "Can we let them watch backstage or something?"

Seokjin nods. "Sure, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Great." You turn back to the two boys. "Taewon, I've got a surprise for you. How would you like to watch the show from backstage?"

His eyes light up. "Backstage? Really?!"

"Of course! Anything for my biggest fan."

"Oh, thank you!" He cheers, running over to wrap his arms around your legs. "See hyung?" He turns back to his brother. “I told you cancer has perks!"

The elder boy throws his hands up. "You got me there."

"Right. Y/N, you have to get ready." Seokjin reminds you before turning to one of the guards. "Choi, please take Taewon and..." He pauses as he looks toward the elder boy.

"Oh, um Taehyung." He stutters. “Kim Taehyung.”

"Take Taewon and Taehyung to their new seats please." Choi nods and begins to usher the boys out of the room. You follow them, waving goodbye in the hallway.

"I'll see you guys soon!" You state before heading to your changing room. "Seokjin?" You call as you walk.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to get that little boy anything his heart desires. Food, toys, merch, anything, got it?"

"Got it." He nods as you reach the changing room door and turn to him.

"And I want to change the encore to 'Keep Going'."

"Alright. I'll let them know." Seokjin reaches for his headset. "Now go get changed, you're on in ten!"

You fly through the concert no problem before finally reaching the encore. you stand just off stage as you hear everyone chanting "one more song!". An addicting rush floods through your body as you check your mic before walking back out on stage as the crowd starts to cheer.

"I've got one more song for you tonight Daegu, how does that sound?" You smile as everyone cheers in excitement. "Good, I'm glad. I'd like to dedicate this song to a very special friend of mine." You look over into the wing where Taewon is watching you. "He told me today that this was his favorite song, so if it's okay with you, I'd like to sing it for him." Your fans cheer and you wave over at Taewon, beckoning him out onto the stage with you. He looks up at his brother for permission, and when Taehyung nods, the younger boy scrambles to his feet and sprints out onto the stage with you. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my friend, Kim Taewon." You hold your hand held mic out to him and whisper, "Say hello."

"Hello!" He smiles. "My name is Kim Taewon. I'm seven years old and I have leukemia!" He states, causing everyone in the crowd to "Aw" in sympathy as you nod to the sound guys to start the song. As the first few notes play, Taewon's face lights up. "This song's my favorite!" He exclaims into the mic.

You pat him on the shoulder. "This one's for you."

You sing to Taewon, letting him sing along whenever he wants to, bringing tears to the eyes of many of your fans. When the song ends, you say one final goodbye, give a grateful bow and lead Taewon off stage. You have the two boys wait in the green room while you change and wipe the mountain of makeup off of your face. As you change, you ask Jin to call Michi to take them home in the nicest car.

When you're clean, you walk back out to the green room in some shorts and an old shirt, knocking as you enter. "It's me."

"Y/N!" Taewon runs over and wraps his arms around your legs. "That was the coolest thing ever! You do that every night?"

You giggle at his enthusiasm. "Not every night, but sometimes it feels like it."

"I wanna be a singer when I grow up! Do you think they liked me? Do you think I could?"

"Definitely! You can do anything you want Taewon." You smile bittersweetly, knowing it's likely he won't live long enough to even graduate high school.

"I'm gonna start working really hard on my singing!"

Just then, Jin walks into the room. "The cars are here." He states, and you nod at him.

"I guess we should head out then." Taehyung says.

"Actually, one of the cars is for the two of you."

Taehyung's eyes go wide. "Really?"

"Yeah," You nod. "One last bit of fun. Taewon!" You turn to the younger boy. "Follow my friend Jin here, for your last surprise!"

"Okay!" Taewon takes off out of the room after Jin while you and Taehyung follow a bit farther back.

“Hey.” Taehyung whispers as you walk.

“Hm?” You look over at him.

“I… I just wanted to say thank you. You know… For being so nice to him.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” You shake your head.

“No.” He grabs your arm and stops you. “I really do.” He bows deeply to you in gratitude. “Thank you so much. I know it must’ve been difficult to see him during your busy schedule; and I really appreciate everything that you’ve done for him tonight.” Taehyung stands back up and looks ahead to where his brother is tugging on Seokjin’s arm.

"Really, it's no problem. Taewon's a great kid, and he's lucky to have you as his brother."

"Nah." Taehyung shakes his head as you start walking again. "I'm lucky to have him."

You walk in silence until you reach the back bay of the stadium where Taewon is currently scrambling to climb into the SUV you provided. Taehyung helps his brother in the rest of the way before turning back to you.

"Thanks again, for everything."

You nod, smiling at him. "Get home safe, and if you ever need anything, just let me know."

"Ah, don't worry about it."

"I'm serious. Here, give me your phone." You hold out your hand. Taehyung hesitates, but eventually unlocks his phone and lays it in your hand. You quickly type your number in, send yourself a text, and then hand him back the phone. "There. That's my personal cell phone. Please call, and I mean for anything." He nods, climbing into the car and rolling down the window. "Taewon!" You call, getting the younger boy's attention. "Your brother has my number. If you need anything, even if you just want me to visit while I'm in town, just let me know, okay?"

His eyes light up. "Okay!"

Taehyung gives you a small smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You return the smile and wave as they drive away.

You text Taehyung everytime you're in Daegu for the next three months. You even invited him to a music video shoot nearby, but he never responds. Did he change his number? Does he not want your help? You can't figure out why it upsets you so much, you only met him once; but something about Taehyung draws you to him.

A month and half later, on a rainy afternoon in May as you're relaxing at your house discussing possible TV appearances with Jin, your phone starts to buzz beside you and you pick it up to finally see his name flash on the screen. Kim Taehyung. Suddenly you're scrambling to answer.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi Y/N. I don't know if you remember me or not-"

"Of course I remember you Taehyung." You can't help but smile.

"O-oh. Okay. Um... Sorry for not messaging you back, we've been a little busy."

"It's alright, don't worry about it. How are you?"

You hear him sigh on the other end of the line. "To be honest, I'm out of options..."

"What do you mean?" You inquire, concerned by the tone of his voice.

Another sigh. "How quickly can you get to Daegu?"

"I'm in Busan so maybe an hour and a half if I drive?

"Okay." It's quiet for a moment.

"Taehyung-" You're interrupted when your phone buzzes against your ear.

"Can you meet me at the address I just texted you?"

"Sure, but Taehyung, what's going on?"

"I... I'd rather tell you in person." His voice cracks just a bit. "Just please meet me as soon as you can."

"Okay, I'm on my way right now."

"Thank you..." Click. Your phone beeps, signaling the end of the call.

"What was that about?" Jin asks, his interest clearly piqued.

You ignore him as you plug the address into the GPS on your phone. "Daegu Gyeongsang Hospital?" You think for a moment before realization hits you and you gasp. "Taewon."

"The cancer kid?"

"How fast can we get to Daegu?"

"Like you said. An hour and a half maybe?"

"Call Michi, we're leaving now."

"Y/N, what's going on?" Jin gets up and follows you to your room as you begin throwing clothes into a bag.

"I think Taewon's in the hospital."

Seokjin sighs before grabbing his phone and dialing a number. "Michi? Get ready. We're going to Daegu."

An hour and fifteen minutes later, you walk through the front door of the hospital and walk up to the counter with a mask and a hat on, Jin trailing close behind.

"Kim Taewon?" You ask as you walk up to the front desk.

"Your name?" The nurse questions as Jin walks up.

"You cannot tell anyone that she is here." Jin tells the nurse. "We don't need the press blowing this out of proportion."

The nurse looks confused until you pull down your mask and her eyes go wide. "O-oh my god..."

"Sorry, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. Can you freak out after you tell me where Kim Taewon's room is?"

"Right, s-sorry." She looks up his name on her computer. "He's in the pediatric ward, room 532. C-can I have your autograph?" You smile at her and take the piece of paper and pen she hands you, signing it for her before looking back at Jin.

"You go ahead, I'll get things sorted here and then be up." Jin states. You nod and then head off in the direction the nurse points you in, taking the elevators to the fifth floor and searching for room 532.

It takes you a few minutes, but you soon recognize a mess of blonde hair standing at one of the nurse's stations, staring at his phone. "Taehyung!"

His head snaps up to locate your voice. When his eyes land on you, he smiles. "Y/N."

"What's going on?" You ask, slightly out of breath.

His smile disappears. "Come with me." He leads you across the hall and around the corner to room 532 and opens the door to reveal Taewon fast asleep on the bed. Taewon has all sorts of wires and tubes hooked up to him; his breathing is shallow and harsh; and he looks so pale and frail; nothing like he was just a few months ago.

"What happened?" You ask quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping boy.

"He relapsed..." Taehyung whispers, looking as though he's holding back tears. "And he's just getting worse by the day, I... I don't know what to do." Taehyung collapses to his knees and you crouch beside him to hold him up, helping him back to his feet and escorting him out of the room over to the small seating area, shutting the door to Taewon's room behind you.

You allow Taehyung to cry on your shoulder, doing your best to comfort him as you wait for him to speak again. He gathers himself faster than you thought he would and sniffles as he explains.

"It was about two weeks after we met you. He started getting headaches and was getting sick at night so we came in for a checkup and..." He sighs. "It's back. And it's worse this time around. He can barely eat or walk, all he does is sleep. They've got him on this medicine and even though he says it's helping him, I don't think it actually is. And I don't have the money to fly back to the children's hospital in the United states. I can't even afford to drive to Seoul." He shakes his head. "Not that it matters, he can't travel. You saw him."

"What are they doing for him here?"

"More chemotherapy." Taehyung states. "But I don't know if he can do it any more. He's just so tired. I'm afraid... I don't think his body can continue to fight. And I don't want to force him, but I don't want to lose him." His tears start rolling down his cheeks again, but he does his best to hold it together. "Honestly I don't even know why I called you. It's just hard doing this alone..."

"Taehyung I'm so sorry... Is there anything I can do?"

"I can't ask you to do anything. I'm sure you have a busy schedule. I guess I just wanted you to know. He looks up to you so it would mean a lot if you talked to him."

"Of course. Anything."

Just then you hear a voice from inside the room. "Hyung!"

Taehyung leaps to his feet and hurries over to open the door and pokes his head inside wearing a forced smile. "Finally awake?" You don't hear the response, but Taehyung motions for you to join him. "Bored? Well, it's a good thing I brought back a surprise!"

When you walk up behind Taehyung, you hear an excited but exhausted voice. "What is it? Show me!"

Taehyung looks back at you and you nod, watching as he opens the door to reveal you to his little brother. You watch Taewon's eyes grow wide in amazement. "Y/N! You're here! What are you doing here?!" He squeaks.

"I heard my biggest fan wasn't feeling well. I had to come check on you!" You explain.

"I'm okay!" He smiles. "It's just a relapse, I've been through it before."

Your heart breaks at the way he says it so nonchalantly. "Well I'm glad to see that! You had me worried for a moment."

You go in and sit on the end of Taewon's bed, casually chatting with him for hours while Taehyung sits in a chair and watches silently. You don't realize how late it's gotten until the nurse comes into the room to give Taewon his nightly medicine and not so subtly states that he should be resting.

You agree, and help tuck Taewon in before saying goodnight and following Taehyung out to see Jin waiting on the bench outside of the room. You forgot he was here.

"All finished for the night?" He asks as you shut the door behind you. You nod. "Good." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card. "Here's your room key, you're booked across the street."

"You don't have to stay." Taehyung shakes his head. "I couldn't ask you-"

"I want to." You assure him. "My tour’s over and I have a couple weeks off in my schedule. I'm here for as long as you need me." You give his arm a squeeze.

Taehyung's eyes well up with tears again. "Thank you. So much, I... I don't know how to repay you."

"Don't worry about it. Anything you need, just ask."

He nods, sniffling a bit as you say goodnight before heading back to your hotel with Seokjin.

For the next two weeks, you spend every day with Taewon and Taehyung; talking, laughing, sneaking the younger boy snacks, keeping him company when Taehyung has to run errands for a few hours every day; you enjoy befriending them both, they're both incredibly sweet and funny, and you like spending time with them, Taewon reminds you so much of the little brother you left behind with your parents.

Unfortunately, Taewon's condition only worsens the longer you stay, and it seems as though Taehyung's energy is being sapped along with his younger brother's. By the end of the second week, Taewon sleeps more and more, eating and laughing less, it usually ends up just being you and Taehyung watching TV or playing cards together, letting the younger boy rest as much as possible.

At the end of the second week, after Taehyung loses the last round of poker that he can possibly stand losing, you pop one last cookie in your mouth before you start gathering your things. You look up as Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair with a sigh.

"Tired of losing?" You tease.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Just... a lot on my mind."

"Wanna have a drink?" You blurt.

"A drink?" He repeats.

You nod. "Why not?"

Taehyung hesitates as he looks over at the bed where his brother is sleeping. "I should... I should stay with him."

"Come on, the nurse is here, she'll give you a pager. Taewon's asleep and will be for hours. Let's go have a drink."

Taehyung looks over at his sleeping brother once more before he nods. "You're right, I could use one."

The nurse gives Taehyung an emergency pager, and after he tells the nurse a million times to page him when Taewon wakes up, you manage to drag Taehyung out of the hospital and up to your room across the street. You open the door and lead him inside, raiding the mini fridge. "What's your drink of choice?"

"Um. Soju? Or vodka."

You take all the bottles of soju out and carry them over to the bed, taking a seat on it and then gesturing for Taehyung to do the same. He carefully takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you crack open a bottle and take a long swig.

"Thirsty?" He smirks.

"Just a bit." You nod before handing him the bottle. "Your turn."

He takes the bottle with a smile. "I've never had a drink with a celebrity before."

"Just think of it as drinking with a friend." You state. He smiles wider, raising the bottle to you before chugging nearly half of it. "Ah, apparently someone else is thirsty."

Two hours and four bottles later, the two of you are absolutely wrecked. You're rolling on the bed cackling as you watch TV and tell stories.

"I'm telling you! He walked right in there, and screamed his new favorite word. Our parents were mortified. You should have seen the look on my dad's face."

"Just screamed it?" You snort.

"He said 'Fucking bastard!' I thought she was going to fall over."

"I'm glad he's always been just as spirited as he is now."

"Oh yeah." Taehyung smiles bittersweetly, suddenly quieter. "Always has been."

You roll over to face him, seeing the sadness in his eyes. "He's a great kid."

Taehyung nods. "I just wish I could see him grow up."

"Hey, there's a chance, isn't there? He could get better again."

"Even if he does, I won't be around to see it."

"What do you mean?" You sit up on your elbows.

"Oh, um... It's nothing."

"No," You shove his shoulder. "You can't just say something like that and not explain."

He sighs. "I didn't want to tell anyone because I didn't want them to worry... Um, I..." He rubs his forehead. "I also... h-have... I have cancer."

"What...?" You ask in disbelief. "What kind?"

"It's in my heart. Well, the tumor is. Apparently it's rare, and there's no known treatment."

"So... When you disappear every day-?"

"I'm getting experimental tests done." He rolls up his sleeves and shows you the numerous bruises on his arms from different IV's and medicine injections.

"Taehyung, why-"

"Because I didn't want Taewon to worry. The focus should be on him, not me."

"But-"

"There's no point in worrying about me when nothing can be done. He could still pull through."

"Don't you think in two years he'll want to know why he's still alive, but you aren't? You're all he has, Taehyung."

"I guess... I never thought about it. I don't think about the future much..."

"Taehyung, I'm so sorry."

He shrugs. "It's okay. I've come to terms with it, there's just still so much I wish I could do."

"I can only imagine. Never growing up, or graduating college, or going on a date, or-"

"Woah, I've been on dates."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to assume."

He chuckles. "What did you think, I was a virgin or something." You hesitate a second too long and his eyes go wide in disbelief. "You did, didn't you?!"

"I mean..."

"Do I give off that vibe?" He sounds panicked.

"Not necessarily. I just figured since you've been taking care of your brother so long-"

"That I've never done anything?" He snorts in disapproval. "I can prove I'm not a virgin." He points at you and a sudden heat flushes your cheeks. It takes a few seconds for him to realize what he said, but when he does he quickly becomes shy. "I just meant... I know what I'm doing." He finishes his drink and sighs. "I should get going."

"You can sleep here."

"Oh god, no I couldn't."

"Come on, they gave me a room with two beds. You can use one of them."

He sighs. "I guess it's better than that cot I've been sleeping on."

"Exactly."

Two weeks later, Taehyung has been staying at the hotel with you every night since the first night you invited him to use the spare bed, getting to know each other better, growing closer as the days pass. Last night, you and Taehyung got drunk again, and you don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up to the sound of very loud beeping.

"Hm? What the..." You realize what it is and sit up in a panic, chucking a pillow at the sleeping figure in the other bed. "Taehyung."

"Huh?" He jumps. "What?"

"It's your pager."

It takes a moment for it to register before he leaps out of bed and scrambles to scoop the pager off the table. "It says it's an emergency." He quickly jumps into action, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on as you do the same before you both run out of the room and across the street to the hospital.

"What happened?" Taehyung asks as the elevator doors open on Taewon's floor.

"Taehyung, what’s wrong?" The head nurse smiles when she sees you both walk in, until she sees the look on your faces.

“You paged an emergency.” Taehyung states, waving the pager in front of himself.

“No I didn’t.” She takes the pager from Taehyung and looks at it before her eyes widen in realization. “Ah, I think I know what happened here. Follow me.” She leads you to Taewon’s room and opens the door. “Taewon, is this why you wanted to sit at my desk earlier?” She gestures to Taehyung as he walks in the room.

“I was booooored.” Taewon whines, causing you and Taehyung to breathe a sigh of relief. Taehyung scolds the younger boy, explaining to him why he should only do that when there’s a real emergency, otherwise he just needs to text one of you.

It's hard to watch as the younger boy lays there smiling at the two of you, clearly not seeing his own wrong-doing, or simply choosing to ignore it. If only he knew that even if he gets better, from here on out, Taehyung will only get worse. He's already starting to show signs of fatigue, and the new medicine they're trying has the older boy losing weight at a rapid pace. You don’t want to acknowledge it, but you can see it in Taehyung’s eyes, he's already starting to give up.

Around dinner time, you head to the cafeteria with the boys, pushing Taewon in his wheelchair down the halls, doing your best to keep them both laughing. The elevator doors open on the floor where the cafeteria sits and you immediately hear, "There she is!".

You're assaulted by the flashing of cameras and instantly move to cover your friends faces as paparazzi call out your name, bombarding you with questions as you slam your hand on the door close button. The doors finally shut and you press the button for the children's ward again.

"W-What just happened?" Taehyung asks.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper. "I should've been more careful."

"Y/N-"

The doors open and you walk up to the nurse's station on a mission. "Taewon needs to be moved to the private wing."

The nurse jumps at your words, your sudden demand startling her. "Why?"

"I'll explain later. Can we move him now?"

"The private wing is um... a bit more expensive." She states, looking over at Taehyung.

"I'll take care of it. Just get him moved now."

Five minutes later you're walking down the hallway of the private wing, on your way to Taewon's new room. His new room is bigger, with a better bed, tv, and even room service. There is also a guest bedroom with a king sized bed attached to the room.

"Woah!" Taewon gasps as you wheel him in. "This is so cool!" Taehyung helps his little brother move to the bed just as Seokjin appears in the doorway, out of breath.

"I've been looking for you all over this damn hospital."

"Seokjin." You scold his language, nodding your head at Taewon.

"It's okay Y/N. I've heard hyung say damn before!" Taewon states, making the three of you laugh as Seokjin catches his breath.

"Jin, what happened?"

"This," He hands you a tabloid. "Came out this morning."

You take the paper from him and open it up to see the headline, ‘Y/N's new secret boyfriend, and a baby on the way?’ above a giant picture of you and Taehyung walking out of the hospital just last night along with a second picture of you both going into the hotel across the street.

"Shit..." You mumble, turning to the older boy. "Taehyung, I'm so sorry."

He takes the paper from you and his eyes go wide. "What the... Oh my god."

"Y/N, you're having a baby?!" Taewon squeaks with joy. "I knew you two were in love!"

"Taewon-" Taehyung rolls his eyes.

"Um, no sweetie." You shake your head, your cheeks flushing red. "Sometimes newspapers like to say things that aren't true.”

"They lie?" You nod. "Why would they do that?"

"To make people read their stories." Seokjin sighs. "To get people's attention."

"I would rather read the truth." Taewon states matter of factly.

"And that's why we keep you around." Taehyung laughs, ruffling his brother's hair.

"What do we do?" You turn to Seokjin.

He rubs his neck. "You should be safe here." He states. "But the company is furious and wants you to post the truth to your social media before rumors get too out of hand."

"Okay, I'll do that tonight."

Alright." He nods. "I have to go make arrangements with security, but I'll see you later." And with that, he leaves.

The next few hours are spent getting Taewon adjusted to his new room, ordering food, watching tv, and figuring out a script for your video. As you're filming, you introduce the two Kim boys, reiterating that you're not pregnant, you've been visiting Taewon in the hospital to make sure he gets better.

You send the video to Seokjin who quickly approves it, allowing you to post it on your social media. Fans quickly comment their support and understanding and you breathe a sigh of relief, ignoring the hate comments as per usual. Taewon seems amazed at how quickly the video blows up as you show him all the comments cheering him on and telling him to feel better; and thus the three of you can relax again.

When the movie you're watching is over, Taewon sighs and turns to you. " Noona, are you sure you're not in love with hyungie?"

You choke on your water as Taehyung scolds the younger boy. "Taewon, enough."

"But you guys are together all the time! And you're always laughing and whispering together! Just like in the movies!" Taewon whines.

"We're just friends, Taewon." You shrug. "Just good friends."

"Well, can you fall in love already? I want you to be happy."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple." You explain.

"Exactly." Taehyung agrees. "Besides, I'm sure Y/N has a famous idol boyfriend already."

"I actually don't, but that doesn't change the fact that you can't force people to fall in love. And you can't choose who you fall in love with either..." You trail off as your fingers play with the ring dangling from your necklace. You haven’t thought about him in a few days but your heart aches the same. “Anyway, I should probably get going so that someone can get some sleep.” You stand up and walk over to Taewon, ruffling his hair before saying goodnight and walking up to the door.

“You aren’t staying here?” Taehyung asks, following you out into the hallway.

“And give the papers more to talk about.” You shake your head. “I’ll just be across the street if you need me.” He hesitates before nodding, letting you go.

As you settle into your bed, you can't help but notice just how quiet your hotel room is without Taehyung in it. You didn't realize how soothing his snoring had become. You toss and turn in your bed, unable to shut your eyes for more than a few seconds until your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You pick it up to see a message from Taehyung.

Taehyung (11:37pm): Can you sleep?

Can he read minds?

You (11:37 pm): Not without the sound of you snoring Taehyung (11:38 pm): wow. Here I am being a good friend, checking on you. and you insult me! You (11:39 pm): lmao You either? Taehyung (11:39 pm): Nah. This room feels weird. You (11:40 pm): It feels weird? Taehyung (11:40 pm): Yeah, I don't know how to explain it. I guess I got used to sleeping without the sound of hospital machines beeping. You (11:40 pm): Turn on the tv? Taehyung (11:41 pm): I tried that already. I don't even feel tired any more You (11:42 pm): Do you want to go for a drive? Taehyung (11:42 pm): A drive? You (11:43 pm): Yeah. You know, like in a car? Taehyung (11:44 pm): Won't you get in trouble? You (11:45 pm): Meet me out front in fifteen

After getting dressed and convincing Michi to let you borrow the car without telling Seokjin, you're parked outside the front entrance of the hospital waiting for Taehyung. You jump at the sudden knock on the window until you see it's Taehyung and unlock the car. He climbs into the passenger seat and the two of you take off.

"Your driver actually let you take the car?" He asks.

"Yeah, apparently I do it all the time."

"Apparently?" He looks confused.

You hesitate. "It's uh, hard to explain..."

"Alright. So where are we going?"

"I don't know." You shrug. "You know the area, is there anywhere we can go to just chill?"

"I know just the place."

Taehyung directs you the rest of the way, and before long you pull up a driveway to a small house surrounded by trees. As you get out of the car you hear nothing but crickets chirping and bugs buzzing, even the stars seem brighter out here.

"Where are we?"

"Welcome to my house."

"Your house?"

"You didn't think we lived at the hospital, did you?"

You shake your head as you follow him. "So this is where you grew up?"

"Mhm." He leads you around the yard to the back of the house where there's a small patio with a firepit. "S'mores?"

You can't help but smile. "Sounds great."

After your fifth s'more, as you lick your fingers clean, you catch Taehyung staring at you. "What?" You ask.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, going back to poking at the fire, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "You're just... You're not what I expected."

"Well what did you expect?"

"Definitely not someone who can down five s'mores in twenty minutes."

"Shut up." You giggle as you shove his arm. "You've had like thirteen."

"I'm just saying, the media does a great job painting you as a dainty... block of ice."

"Ice?" Your eyebrows furrow. "Do you think I'm that cold?"

"No, no not anymore." He explains. "But I definitely didn't think you'd be this chill. You seem so proper in your interviews, I was worried when Taewon chose you as his wish , I didn't..." He clears his throat. "I didn't think this sort of stuff meant anything to you which is why you kept putting it off."

"Not at all. I had to reschedule because of my hus- uh... s-some family problems." You reach up and twirl the ring in your fingers. Taehyung observes you, but doesn't press the matter.

"I'm glad you called me out here actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What's up?" You look up to see his face has become very serious. "Taehyung?"

He sighs. "Next week I've decided to have experimental surgery to try and remove the tumor."

"W-what?" You gasp.

"Don't try to change my mind. If there's a chance I can get rid of this thing, I want to do it."

"Taehyung, that's insane. There's still other treatments you could-"

"Y/N, don't." He scoots closer and grabs your hands. "I told you I've already made up my mind."

"But-"

"No but's." He shakes his head. "However, there's something I need you to do for me."

"Anything." You nod.

Taehyung sighs again. "Unfortunately, there's only a ten percent survival rate for this surgery."

"Taehyung-"

"Listen." He scolds. "I don't plan on going anywhere, but if I do, I want you to take care of Taewon for me."

"You want me to be his guardian?"

He nods. "I know it sounds crazy , but you're the only one I trust. And you're the only one he has. I can't let him go into foster care. I can't do that to him. Please, promise me you'll take care of him?"

"As if he were my own brother." You agree.

"Really?" Taehyung seems surprised by your answer.

"Of course." You mumble. "But Taehyung..." You sniffle, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. "You're... You're not allowed to go anywhere, okay?"

"Y/N..." He reaches a hand up and wipes away a tear that has slipped down your cheek as you meet his gaze. "Don't cry."

"Don't go."

He offers you a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere."

The two of you sit out until early in the morning when the fire dies before Taehyung leads you inside the house and into what must be his bedroom. When he flicks on the light, he realizes a problem.

“Um. I can go sleep in Taewon’s room if you want to sleep here. His bed’s a little small.”

“We can share.” You state. He looks at you, bewildered, and you just nod.

You pull the covers back and both climb under, turning face to face as you close your eyes and breathe in, inhaling Taehyung’s now slightly smoky scent. You open your eyes again to see Taehyung observing you closely and you raise your eyebrows to ask why.

It's quiet for a few seconds, the two of you locked in this moment until Taehyung leans forward and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. He rests his forehead against yours as you breathe out shakily. He places another kiss against your cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls back and your eyes meet once more. You can't tell if it's all the emotion in the air, the underlying loneliness and feelings you've been repressing, or a mixture of both, but as you look into Taehyung's eyes, you realize you're ready.

You both silently agree on what's about to happen and Taehyung immediately reaches for you, pulling you against him and planting his lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair as an attempt to get closer. His lips are soft and plump and it doesn't take long for his tongue to flick against your mouth which you happily accept, tugging on his blonde locks and eliciting a soft grunt from him as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Taehyung's hands are all over your body until he finally reaches down to unbutton your shorts before yanking them down your legs and then shedding his own pants. He quickly climbs on top of you, settling himself between your legs as his lips find your neck. He licks and bites at your skin as one of his hands slides under your shirt and under your bra to fondle your breast. He does his best, but your bra keeps getting in the way.

"This won't do." He mutters, sitting up and pulling your shirt off over your head before reaching around and unhooking your bra while he kisses you deeply. You're left short of breath as Taehyung tosses your bra aside and focuses his mouth on your breasts instead. He plants wet kisses on your chest before flicking his tongue across your nipple , making you gasp. He squeezes your breasts together as he smirks up at you. "You're beautiful, you know."

"Me?" You scoff. "Have you looked in a mirror?"

Taehyung simply shrugs, rubbing his thumbs over your nipples; back and forth, back and forth; making you squirm beneath him. He watches you closely, relishing in your reaction and occasionally letting his tongue graze across the hardening buds.

When he's finished teasing you, he kisses his way down your body, tugging off your underwear before laying on his stomach in front of you and trying to spread your legs.

"W-What are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing?" He giggles until he sees the look on your face. "Wait, has... No one's ever gone down on you before?"

"No..." You admit.

He stares at you, shocked. "Are you serious?"

"I've only had sex with one other person!"

"Oh. Really?" You nod. "How long has it been?"

"70 years technically." You mutter under your breath.

"How many?"

"Uh. S-seven years."

"Wow, so since you debuted basically."

You guess that's when you debuted. "Yeah, I haven't really had a chance since."

"Do you want me to try and see how you like it?" He asks.

You hesitate. "I-I guess so."

"You sure? I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"N-no. Go ahead."

Taehyung nods, keeping your legs closed as he pushes them back into your chest, beginning by placing soft kisses all over the backs of your thighs as his lips wander closer and closer to your center until finally you feel the first brush of his fingers against you. He lightly drags his thumb down over your folds, pressing ever so lightly before running his tongue up in the opposite direction, making you gasp. He tries to spread your legs again, but you still hesitate.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, looking up at you. You nod, and finally allow him to spread your legs.

You watch as he brings his mouth down to your center and flicks his tongue out once more, licking a long stripe up your center before poking his way into your folds and gently prodding his tongue at you until you're begging for more. He happily obliges, settling his face between your thighs and rubbing his tongue against your clit, making you shiver.

You've never felt anything like this before. It doesn't feel this good when you do it yourself; how does his tongue even move that fast? Your hands automatically tangle themselves in his hair, tugging gently whenever his tongue presses down particularly hard. After a few minutes of this blissful torture, Taehyung's thumb returns, rubbing lightly around your soaked entrance. When he realizes how wet he's made you, he smirks against you.

"Damn, you get worked up easily." He teases.

"Shut up." You mumble, pulling on his hair harder to get him to go back to what he was doing.

Taehyung obeys your wishes and this time wraps his lips around your bundle of nerves, sucking on it delicately. You feel his thumb pull away and it's quickly replaced by two of his long fingers which he presses against your core until they find their way deep inside you. You let out a strangled moan, thrusting your hips up into his face, making him chuckle as he continues his ministrations.

He slowly pumps his fingers in and out while his lips and tongue stay focused on your clit, his tongue picking up speed as his fingers do. Suddenly he curls his fingers forward inside you and your breath is taken away as he rubs against your g-spot.

"Oh fuck!" You whimper, squirming beneath his touch. You chance a glance down at Taehyung to see him staring back up at you, smirking, and you immediately look away, blushing.

You're panting now, your body unable to hold back as you feel your orgasm creeping in on you. Taehyung moans against your center, vibrating your body as you look down at him again; this time his eyes are closed, and you can see him rutting his hips against the bed, chasing his own friction. He sucks harder, his tongue moving faster as he tries to get you off so he can stop teasing himself more than anything. It doesn't take much more, just a few good flicks of his wrist and you start to unravel beneath him.

"T-Taehyung, I'm... I'm gonna-" You try to warn him. He only nods against you, sucking on your bundle harshly as he helps you fall apart with a cry of his name. "Taehyung!" You gasp as your body is flooded with the warmth of your orgasm, your thighs quivering around Taehyung's head as you drench his chin and fingers with your release. Your body shakes and your core pulses as Taehyung coasts you through, pulling off as you calm down and resting his head on your lower abdomen as you attempt to catch your breath.

"Okay, that was hot as hell." He states, reaching up to absentmindedly play with your breast. "You good?"

You nod as your breath comes back to you. That was way more powerful than your last orgasm. "Holy shit."

"I told you I knew what I was doing." He smiles.

"And you were right." You admit. Taehyung seems pleased by this as he climbs up your body to kiss you, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue as he slides it past your lips. That's when you feel Taehyung's length pressing against your thigh as he lays on top of you; hard and throbbing, aching to be inside you if the way his hips press against you is any indication. "Do you want me to, um. Return the favor?" You ask.

He shakes his head. "I just want to be inside you. You felt so tight." He groans in your ear, sending heat flooding back between your legs. You wrap your legs around him and pull him close.

"I'm ready if you are."

"Already?" He asks, surprised.

"Mhm." You nod shyly. "Please?"

Taehyung quickly sits up and sheds his boxers. You watch as his hard length bounces, amazed to see it dripping. "Wait, shit. I don't have a condom."

"Don't worry about it, I’ve got it covered." You hurry him, pulling him back down to you.

"Hey," He cups your face as he leans over you. "Let me enjoy this. Slow down."

"Sorry." You giggle.

"It's not every day I get to fuck an idol."

"Hey!" You roll your eyes, laughing as you smack his chest. "Come on."

He smiles as he leans down and kisses you again, scooting forward and rubbing against you, coating himself in your juices before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in. You gasp as he fills you, the sensation overwhelming you as you moan low in your chest. Taehyung grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut at the feeling of you wrapped around his length. When he fills you to the hilt, you both breathe out as he opens his eyes again to gaze down at you.

“Damn. I didn’t think you were going to be this tight.” He grunts, leaning down to kiss you once more.

“Please move.” You beg, your hands squeezing his shoulders.

Taehyung nods, pulling his hips back to smack them into you again, and again, and again. He builds a slow, but satisfying rhythm, filling you completely each time before pulling out again. You get lost in the feeling of Taehyung thrusting into you, both of you caught up in this intimate moment with each other. You tug on his hair, eliciting the sweetest of moans from his lips moments before they reattach to yours.

“Harder…” You whisper when you come up for breath. He groans in agreement, obeying your wishes as he fucks you harder, his hips slapping against yours with a sweet smacking sound as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Suddenly he angles his thrusts upward and his cock brushes against a spot that has you keening against him, loving the way it makes you feel.

“Oh fuck~!” You whimper.

Taehyung smirks as he repeats the motion, over and over, he slams into the spot so hard you see stars. Suddenly you feel that now familiar feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach. “T-Taehyung…”

“I know, I know.” He pants, picking up his pace and watching your breasts bounce as he does. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You can only nod, too far gone for words at this point. It’s only a few more thrusts before you come undone in his arms, your entire body quivering as you moan from the force of your orgasm. Taehyung rides it out with you, making sure you’re finished before he pulls out and strokes himself to completion on your stomach, groaning softly.

The two of you stay there panting for a while, relishing in the moment with each other as you both come down from your highs. Taehyung eventually gets up and slips his boxers back on, shuffling over to the bathroom and returning with a damp washcloth. He cleans you off and then tosses the cloth aside, giving you his shirt to put on before he crawls back onto the bed with you, curling up behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

Taehyung kisses your cheek softly, pulling you close. You lay there in the silence for a while, neither of you wanting to disturb the moment, but as you’re about to drift off Taehyung speaks. “Y/N, can I tell you something?”

“Mm.” You mumble an acknowledgement.

“I think Taewon was right.”

You roll over to face him. “How so?”

“I think… I think I’m falling in love with you.” He whispers, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

Your heart thumps so hard in your chest, you’re afraid he can hear it. “Really?” You ask. He nods, meeting your gaze and looking for a response. You decide to tell him the truth. If this is the last moment you have with him, you want him to know. “I love you too.”

A week later, you wake up and sunlight is filtering in through the blinds. You slowly stretch, feeling someone’s arms wrapped around your waist. You smile to yourself, settling back into his embrace when your phone buzzes on the nightstand next to you. You pick it up to see it’s a message from your lawyer who you contacted the day before.

Lawyer Sooyoung (10:22 am): Hey, I have everything together for you if you want to meet today and sign it! You (10:23am): Perfect! If you could bring it by this address later, I'll be here all day!

You send her Taehyung’s address and then put your phone back down. Today’s the last day before Taehyung’s surgery, so you told him to spend the entire day with Taewon instead of you, knowing that if things don’t go well tomorrow, it could be their last day together.

You roll over and gently rouse Taehyung, wanting him to go over as soon as possible.

“Tae, wake up.”

“Mm… Y/N?” His eyes flutter open and he looks up at you.

“Hey, it’s sunday.” You remind him. “You should get going.”

Realization spreads over his face and he nods. “Ah, right.” You sure you don’t want to come?”

You shake your head. “I have things to do today. And it should really just be the two of you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“And please, don't forget to tell him what’s happening.”

He nods again, still not fully awake as he places a kiss on your forehead and then sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. Taehyung dresses and then gives you one last kiss before heading to the hospital.

You spend the rest of the morning puttering about the house, watching tv, playing on your phone before you get a text from Sooyoung that she’s on the way. You change out of your pajamas and wait for her to arrive, hearing her car pull into the driveway before long. You head out to the front door to greet her.

“Sooyoung!” You cheer as she gets out of her car with her briefcase.

She scoffs at you, shutting the car door behind her. “Since when do you use my full name? Am I in trouble?”

Ah, you forgot. You’ve met Sooyoung a few times since you ended up here and had to listen to her talk about how close the two of you seem to be. “Sorry, Unnie! Just glad to see you.” You offer a smile as she reaches the front door and gives you a quick hug.

“I don’t know Y/N, something’s off about you lately. It’s like you’re this whole different person.” She states as she walks into the house, quickly setting her things on the kitchen table and taking a seat. You hurry over and do the same, sitting across from her.

“I feel different.” You state.

“Mm.” She eyes you carefully before waving the conversation away. “Anyway, I drew up everything you asked for, you just need to read over and sign everything. And Taehyung needs to sign a few things too.”

“He won’t be back until tonight.”

“That’s fine, just have him sign everything and you can have Jin bring it by tomorrow.”

“Where do we start?”

Sooyoung pulls several documents out of her briefcase, all organized neatly as she reads over each one with you before showing you everywhere to sign and initial. The first one states transfer of guardianship for Taewon if anything happens to Taehyung. The second is about you. If anything ever happens to you, you’re designating everything you have to Taewon when he turns 18, well, if he turns 18. Until then, Jin will be in charge, helping watch over Taewon until he is grown and able to manage things himself; and of course a healthy portion of your funds go to Jin directly; if only as a thank you for putting up with you all this time, especially the last two weeks.

After everything is signed and finished, Sooyoung begins to pack up her things. “Okay, that’s everything.” She states, smiling. “If you need anything else just let me know!”

“Actually, there is one more thing. I need you to open a safe deposit box for me.”

She nods. “Sure. I’ll get a key for you sometime in the next few days.”

“Thanks.” You nod, giving her a hug before walking her back out to her car. “For everything.”

“Hey, it’s what you pay me for.” She jokes.

“Right…” You wave goodbye before heading back into the house, shutting the door and taking a deep breath. The rest of the day is spent relaxing. You take a bath after dinner and drink a glass of wine, enjoying having some time to yourself.

A little after 11, Taehyung arrives back at home. You look up to see his eyes are puffy as he walks through the door.

“Aw, Tae…” You whisper sympathetically.

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head. “I just… I didn’t realize how hard it would be to say goodbye.” He admits, flopping on the couch next to you.

“How did he take it?”

“Pretty well honestly. I mean, I feel like if anyone understands what’s happening, it’s him.”

“That makes sense.”

“He is, however, very excited to possibly live with you.” Taehyung chuckles, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “He really adores you, you know that?”

“The feeling’s mutual.” You assure him, smiling lovingly at him.

“I’m so glad I met you.” Taehyung whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Me too Tae.” You sink into his embrace, his arms warm as they wrap around you. The two of you sit like this for a while, enjoying the feeling of being together for what could be the last time, until you have to ruin it, of course. You sit up and grab the folder from Sooyoung, handing it to Taehyung.

“What’s this?” He asks, opening it to sift through the contents.

“Those documents we talked about… You should sign them before tomorrow.”

“Right, okay.” Taehyung nods, standing and walking over to the table to find a pen. You follow him, sitting next to him and helping as he works his way through it, pointing out all the places he needs to sign and initial. When he’s done, he turns to the second document and then looks up at you. “Is this just a copy?”

You quickly move to shut it inside the folder, you should’ve taken it out before giving the other one to him. “T-that’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” You try to shake him off, but Taehyung holds the document out of reach and reads the beginning of it.

“Transfer of estate in case of… Y/N, what is this?”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution to what?” He asks, his eyes wide with worry.

You sigh. “I just… If anything ever happens to me I want you guys to be taken care of.”

“What’s going to happen to you?”

“Nothing!” You blurt a bit too quickly. “I mean, I don't know, things happen all the time.”

“Y/N…”

“I… I can’t tell you. You’ll think I’m crazy. Just trust me. It’s a safeguard, okay? Just in case.”

Taehyung puts the document down and takes your hands in his. “Nothing you ever say would make me think you’re crazy.”

You scoff. “You have no idea.”

“Then tell me.”

The way he looks at you, it makes your heart hurt. Do you want to just leave him hanging like you did Jeongguk? You don’t think you could ever do that to another person. Jeongguk gave up his life to search for you, and you know Taehyung is the kind of person to do the same, but can you really tell him your secret? Two people in the same timeline knowing what happens to you, is that too many? Can you risk it? You don’t know what the rules are… Or if there even are any rules.

“Wait here.” You mumble, standing.

“Y/N-” He tries to grab your arm, thinking he upset you, but you hold up your hand.

“Just… Just wait here.”

You walk back into the bedroom, digging through your things until you find what you’re searching for in the bottom of your bag; a photo album, a wooden box, and a book. You return to the kitchen, setting the things on the table as you take your seat next to Taehyung. He eyes the items curiously, but waits patiently for you to explain.

You gather your thoughts, trying to find the best way to phrase everything before you begin. You explain the first time it happened to you, how it was the weirdest deja vu feeling, and how it changed after that, longer jumps, stranger jumps, putting you in places and times you never thought possible, until your last jump. You explain your time with Jeongguk, and everything that happened to you up until now.

“At any point I could disappear, just like I do every time. The haze will happen and I’ll be gone.”

“So, wait… You jump through time?” He doesn’t believe you. He can’t believe you. Not without proof. You grab the book off the table and slide the bookmark out of its place, handing it to Taehyung. He stares down at the picture of you and Jeongguk, studying it closely until his eyes go wide. “Your ring.” He mutters, more to himself than you as he looks up at your neck, seeing the very same ring dangling from its chain around your throat.

Your fingers automatically fiddle with the jewelry in question as you open the photo album, showing Taehyung more pictures of your previous life with Jeongguk. He takes it all in, watching in silence as you explain things to him. When you’re finished, he’s quiet for a long time, mulling it all over in his head until he finally speaks.

“When you cancelled for a family emergency, that was…?”

You nod. “I had just arrived here, and I… I needed to find him.”

“And he’s…”

“He’s gone.” You smile bittersweetly. “Cancer, ironically enough.”

Taehyung lets out a half-hearted chuckle before he nods in understanding. “I believe you.”

Your eyes go wide at this. “R-really?”

“Of course.”

You breathe out a huge sigh of relief, your head falling forward into your hands. “Thank you.” You whisper.

Taehyung doesn’t answer, as if he knows the thanks weren’t entirely meant for him, but for someone else, something else. Instead, he simply grabs your arms and pulls you up with him, tugging you into the bedroom and laying on the bed next to you, wrapping you tightly in his arms for comfort.

“Tae if anything happens to me, I need you to take the things I showed you and give them to Jin. Tell him to put them in my safety deposit box, he’ll know where it is.”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

“I love you.” He breathes in your ear as you both drift off.

When you wake up the next day, the sun is streaming in through the blinds and you quickly realize that Taehyung is not beside you. You bolt upright and scramble for your phone, checking it to see the time. 11:13 am. Taehyung’s surgery started at 8 am. You fling the covers off your body, throwing on some pants and a shirt before grabbing your purse, a mask, and a hat, and heading directly to the hospital.

When you arrive, you immediately go to the surgical wing, checking in at the desk to see where he is and following a friendly nurse to the waiting room. You see his name and status flashing on the board across from where you sit: Kim Taehyung, OR. You can’t focus on anything except those three words, completely lost in your own anxious thoughts as you wait for Taehyung.

Waiting…

And waiting…

Kim Taehyung, Recovery.

Your heart pounds in your chest when the board changes, relieved and terrified at the same time. A few minutes later, a doctor walks into the room and calls his name.

“Family of Kim Taehyung?” You quickly stand and walk over, trying to seem as calm on the outside as you can. “Follow me.” He leads you back through the doors he came through and back past several drawn curtains down a long hallway and into a room where you finally see him, wrapped in blankets fast asleep in the bed.

“H-how is he?” You question, your voice cracking as grateful tears well in your eyes.

“He’s going to recover fine from the surgery, it was strictly exploratory.”

“Exploratory? I thought-”

The doctor sighs. “It was bigger than we thought. There’s no safe way for us to remove the tumor. It’s grown around one of the chambers of his heart. If we tried to remove it…” The doctor trails off.

“It would kill him…” You finish for him, scooting your chair closer to Taehyung. “He’ll die either way.”

“I’m sorry ma’am.” The doctor moves to take his leave. “He should wake up soon.”

“Thank you.” And with that, you’re left alone with Taehyung. You sniffle as you grab your phone out of your purse, quickly calling Taewon.

“Hello?”

“Taewonnie! Hey, it’s Y/N.”

“Noona!”

You try to choke back your tears, wanting to assure the boy everything is fine. “I just wanted to let you know that Taehyung is out of surgery and should wake up here in a few minutes.”

“Really?? Yay! Hyungie is okay!”

“I’ll bring him by later, yeah? Let me know if you need anything and I’ll have Jin bring it for you.”

“Okay, thank you noona!”

You hang up the phone and lean your elbows on the side of Taehyung’s bed, silently sobbing to yourself as you look down at his beautiful face. Even with all the money in the world, there are some things that just aren’t possible, and it hurts you to think about. Taehyung and Taewon are as nice and selfless as they come, and yet one of them, if not both of them, will leave this lifetime so soon, whereas you will be here for who knows how long, living a thousand lifetimes, none of which you feel you deserve.

Maybe that’s the whole point.

Maybe it doesn’t matter how many lifetimes you live, or how many things you succeed in. What really matters are the people. People like Taehyung and Taewon, like Jeongguk, and Jin, and Kono and Bitsy and Clara. People that you can make a difference for.

You grab Taehyung’s hand in yours, rubbing it with your thumb as you wait for him to wake up, silently making yourself promise that no matter what happens from now on, no matter where you end up, you’ll force yourself to be a background character. You will only be there to support those who need you, and then you will disappear from their lives, leaving no trace of yourself. And you will not, under any circumstances, fall in love again after Taehyung. You don’t think your heart can take another break.

Taehyung stirs next to you and you feel him squeeze your hand as his eyes flutter open. “Y/N…?” He mumbles, looking around before his gaze finds you and he smiles softly. “There you are.”

“Hi handsome.” You sniffle, kissing his knuckles.

“How mad are you?”

“For leaving without me? I’m already over it.”

“How’d it go?” He asks weakly. You know he already knows, he just wants to hear it.

You shake your head. “Exploratory only.”

“Really?” He sighs.

“Apparently it’s bigger than they thought, and it’s um, it’s wrapped around one of the chambers of your heart, so even if they try to take it out…”

The room goes silent, Taehyung only nodding in understanding before settling back against the pillows. He doesn’t speak much when the nurse comes in to check on him. A few hours later, they allow you to wheel Taehyung up to the private wing with Taewon. You hope it will help cheer him up for a little while at least.

Taewon cheers, greeting his older brother with excitement as you push Taehyung’s bed, aligning him next to Taewon’s. Taewon quickly clambors over to his brother’s bed, rambling about all the things he did while waiting for Taehyung’s procedure to be over. Taehyung smiles softly, nodding along to the things Taewon says, his eyes heavy. You quickly remind Taewon that Taehyung needs to rest, and turn on the tv to turn the younger boy’s attention elsewhere, allowing Taehyung to close his eyes.

You remain at Taehyung’s side, sitting in a chair, resting your forearms on his cot, one of his hands laced with yours. You must doze off at some point, barely waking up when you hear voices.

“No, let her sleep.” It’s Taehyung. “We can tell her when she wakes up.” You feel his hand on your head, brushing your hair out of your face and hum happily as you fall back asleep.

The next time you wake up, you’re in a bed. You look around confused, slightly terrified that the haze came in your sleep, until you recognize it as the guest room adjoining Taewon’s. You realize it’s morning as you sit up, adjusting your clothes before walking out to the next room to see Taehyung and Taewon enjoying breakfast together as they watch some show.

“Breakfast without me?” You ask, walking over to the table between them and snagging a piece of toast.

“Hyung said not to wake you!” Taewon explains. “He said you were really sleepy.”

“I guess I was.” You nod. “Um, how exactly…?” You look back towards the room you emerged from before meeting Taehyung’s gaze.

“Jin moved you.” He answers. “He came up to check on you and saw you asleep so I asked him to move you to the bed so you’d be more comfortable.”

“Ah, well thank you.” You smile, sitting down at his side.

“Hyung, can I tell her?” Taewon suddenly bursts. “Please please please?”

“Wonnie, let her at least eat something first.” Taehyung scolds.

You finish your toast and reach for a piece of fruit. “Tell me what?”

Taewon looks to his brother for permission and Taehyung nods. “Go ahead.”

“My last set of scans came back clean! I get to go home!”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Really?”

“I'm in remission!” He cheers.

You look at Taehyung for confirmation. “He comes back for repeat scans in a few weeks, but as of last night, he’s cancer free.”

“Taewon, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.” You put on a smile, but your heart aches. If he’s truly cured, Taewon’s going to have to live the rest of his life without his brother. Who knows how long Taehyung has left. Why does life have to be so unfair? To survive years of cancer, just for it to take your brother, the only family you have left.

“Noona? Are you okay?” Taewon rips you from your thoughts and you realize a few tears have slipped past your defenses.

“Of course! These are happy tears.” You lie as you wipe them away. “Taehyung, when are they discharging you?” You turn to the blonde.

“Tomorrow morning.” Taehyung states. “Since it was just… You know. I don’t have to stay too long.”

“Tomorrow morning.” You repeat, thrilled at the prospect of returning to a normal life for as long as you can have it.

The rest of the day is spent relaxing, the three of you spending time together, filling your heart with warm memories. Taewon falls asleep early and you tuck him in, turning down the tv volume before Taehyung pats the bed next to him. You smile, sliding onto the cot and curling up next to Taehyung in the small space.

“I can’t believe things are finally going to be back to normal.” Taehyung whispers into your hair, pulling you close.

“But for how long?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Let’s not think about that right now.” Taehyung chides. “Let’s just be here. Together.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, smiling against your mouth.

“Tae,” You return his smile, tears slipping down your cheeks. There’s so much you want to say to him, so much you want to tell him…

But it’s too late.

You’re too late.

Before you can see anything, you feel it begin, dancing around the edges of your mind.

The haze.

It’s here to sweep you away.

“No, please. Not now.” Your voice is panicked as you sit up and Taehyung immediately catches on, alerted by your tone. “I’m not done!”

“Y/N, your eyes…” His own gaze widens in fear. “T-they’re white. Are you okay?”

You huff in frustration as you see it begin to creep in on the edges of your vision. You try to blink back your tears, moving your hand over Taehyung’s where it rests on your cheek, placing a kiss against his palm. “Thank you for everything Taehyung. I’m so sorry. Take care of Taewonnie.”

Realization dawns on his expression. “N-now? No, Y/N you can’t go now.” He tries to sit up, but the pain from his incision stops him from reaching for you.

“Taehyung, I love you…” Your field of vision gets smaller and smaller, your limbs growing weak from the sensation.

“No, please. I love you… Y/N, I love you!”

It’s the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

Opening your eyes, you're greeted with an unfamiliar sight and though it hurts, you know Taehyung is long gone.

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