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roseykat · 1 year ago

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TITLE: Play Fight

PAIRINGS: Hyunjin x Jisung x f!reader

SUMMARY: Hyunjin and Jisung remain stumped at what unfolded during a game of dirty truth or dare with you. There's no going back from it. No ignoring the obvious layout of what naturally happens next between the three of you under one roof where Jisung's needs get the better of him and Hyunjin's dream becomes a reality. A continuation of Play Bite.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, hints of voyeurism/exhibitionism, swearing, oral sex (f!receiving and giving), unprotected sex, messy sex, dirty talk, porn w/plot, making out, nipple play, hints of oral fixations, begging, orgasms, deepthroating, very vague hint of cum eating, creampie, reader says 'stop' but doesn't mean it in a way where she wants to stop having sex or isn't enjoying it (she says it out of the overwhelming sensation from needing to orgasm).

🏷️LIST - @leftkittenface @twinklix @meilix @weareapackofstrays @elizalabs3 @goblin-waifu @imnotjjini0325 @livzsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @itsthatbri @20minsat180degrees @groovygroovyhyunjin @stayconnecteed @chillichillicrabcrab23 @valibals @oiikaro @galamxy (I also added people who were interested in part 2 just in case)

MASTERLIST - Play Bite (First Part)

A/N: this is just pure, filthy smut. I’m hoping I tagged everyone! Thank you all for waiting patiently! 🩷 This has been checked over a couple of times but I’ll check over it once more in the morning for any mistakes etc! x

The blood running through Jisung's body had frozen over. Stiff with shock, his eyes are still glued to the screen of your phone - at the message his best friend just sent through to you. As a result, a million and one questions fire around Jisung's brain in such a short amount of time.

The first and most important thing was deciphering whether you and Chan were together. In his mind, there was no way. No way. Chan had recently come out of a long-term relationship and even said so himself the other week that he wasn't looking for another one any time soon. That he has zero plans to dive back into the dating scene for a long time.

Not to mention, you wouldn’t do anything as terrible as cheating. Jisung trusts that and his friends wholeheartedly.

That seemed to be his only saving grace from wanting to justify his next actions, or at least Hyunjin's, because as soon as Jisung managed to peel his eyes from the screen, he catches full sight of his two friends, lip locked.

You were still in between Hyunjin's legs, slightly twisted around in order to reach his mouth whereas he leans down just a bit to help. His hands were dangerously close to the waistband of your underwear - your underwear which had been soaked through after getting yourself off in front of them minutes ago.

Jisung still couldn't believe he witnessed that, nor what he's witnessing right now.

It was clear that the game of truth or dare had been derailed and preoccupied by a more pressing matter. As Jisung listens to the wet sounds of your mouths moving, he feels the familiar, aching throb in his pants. A reminder that he's still hard and has been for a while.

It only gets worse for him when he watches Hyunjin eventually slide down the front of your damp underwear, feeling how warm and slick you are. It doesn't take long for his fingers to lather up nicely and ease over your sensitive clit.

This is his dream unfolding.

The way you silently plead for Hyunjin to fuck you with his long fingers by opening your legs is hampered when Jisung inches closer to the pair of you. This time in between your bent legs. Hyunjin regrettably peers up and away from you for a second, the pads of his fingers still rubbing delicate barely-there circles over your clit.

"I wanna taste you," he says, leaning forward and closer, his doe eyes gazing pleadingly.

Hyunjin removes his hand from your pussy and holds his slender, glossy fingers up to his friend's mouth. Your cum is glazed over his digits, sticky thin strings that connect his middle and ring fingers, gleaming desirably for Jisung who shuffles forward eagerly to take them in his mouth, suckling and licking everything he’s being offered.

But it's not enough for him.

"So good," Jisung murmurs as if he's under the influence after Hyunjin retracts his fingers. "But I need more than that. Let me taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

You cower half of your face into Hyunjin's chest with embarrassment, trying to hide the flush of red his comment brings out in your cheeks. He uses his other hand to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.

“Alright,” you give an affirming nod to Jisung who inflates with joy on the inside.

He leans forward once more, this time to kiss you; slowly yet heated and needy for each other. There's an equal division of lust between you and him the moment his lips connect with yours.

As he breaks away from you, his eyes lock with Hyunjin for a few lingering moments before the pair of them share yet another kiss. Neither of them cared too much about it or what it was going to mean afterwards. All they knew is that they liked it and would have no trouble doing it again.

“You’ll get your turn,” Jisung teases, licking once over Hyunjin’s plush lips. “Maybe.”

Hyunjin scowls at him, but with that in hand, Jisung finds the band of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your thighs, all the way down to your ankles, and off. The wet mess you left for them has Jisung salivating like some rabid dog. He lowers himself onto his elbows where his hot breath washes over your inner thighs. He hasn’t started and already has you pressing back further into Hyunjin, further into his crotch where he needs you the most.

That first point of contact makes your skin tingle. He presses chaste kisses into your skin. To truly bury his mouth into your pussy, Jisung snakes his hands around your thighs, gripping lovingly into your flesh. It helps anchor him and you more importantly. You squirm and quiver, legs trembling as he begins to kitten lick over your clit, using it to wet you up even more.

Your eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the sensation, “y-yes…feels…”

“How does it feel?” Hyunjin begs the question for you.

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever felt before. There have been a couple of times where a man will give you good head, but not like this. Jisung knows what he’s doing. He’s taking advantage of your over sensitive pussy, switching up his tongue game by sucking and flicking to keep you just above the edge. His skills have you gripping onto Hyunjin’s thighs that still cage around your body.

“Good, feels good,” you swallow, feeling and listening to the way Jisung has come to lap everything up in between your legs.

Hyunjin reckons he can make you feel better too and decides to use his hands to slide underneath your shirt. He gently supports your back with one hand while Jisung continues to eat you out. The other hand unclasps your bra, giving Hyunjin free access to grope your tits under your shirt once it’s removed. By then, you’re able to lean back into his body and continue to melt from the sensations.

Strained mewls and moans tear up your throat when Hyunjin uses his index fingers and thumbs to pinch roll your nipples. He savours the pathetic whimpers you make when he starts rolling them too. You struggle helplessly against him, pressing your chest up only for him to pinch them just a little bit harder. It’s like you wanted him to stop, but you also needed him to keep going.

“Hyun…jin, s’too much, can’t-“

He finds himself nuzzling against your face, kissing your cheek here and there as an attempt to touch you as much as he can. He lingers on the fact that you’re barely able to speak in full sentences which does something to his brain. Like he and Jisung have reduced your mind and body to a point where it only knows and seeks pleasure. There’s no room for you to be able to speak when words can’t even describe what you’re feeling.

“Can’t what baby?” He asks. “I’m sure you can take it.”

Jisung’s mouth throws your mind off of answering Hyunjin, right when he starts flicking his tongue right over the heavily stimulated bud of nerves. Your thighs firmly clamp around Jisung’s head, trembling from its effect that Hyunjin can even feel you quiver from behind.

Turns out his best friend is good with his mouth. Hyunjin couldn’t help but wonder what other use it has.

“Cumming, please I need to cum,” you beg desperately.

One of your hands makes it through Jisung’s dark hair, something to hold onto to brace yourself for that intense round of pleasure. The assault from his tongue leaves you no choice but to tug and pull on his hair until Jisung himself starts moaning into your pussy from the pain - good, inviting pain.

“Nobody’s stopping you baby. “Gonna cum for us? Again?” Hyunjin urges gently.

“Yes!” You whine pleadingly. “Mm, r-right there!”

The closer you are to the edge of your orgasm, your hips start to make subtle upward movements. Almost like you’re trying to ride his face, which Jisung welcomes, would invite actually. It’s what he wants anyway - for you to use his face until you cum all over it.

“Don’t stop…please don’t stop, fuck!” You plead hysterically.

The pressure has you feeling like you’re about to explode into bits. Your thighs continue to squeeze unapologetically around Jisung’s head, fearing for a second that you might crush him. Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s fingers and thumbs roll and tug on your nipples. The sensations easily sweep over you, compelling deep moans and small yet shaky screams from your throat as you cum loudly.

“Good girl,” Hyunjin exalts you with praise. “Sound so pretty…”

Jisung could’ve kept going had your body not wanted to completely give way. But he does slow down his pace for you to finally linger in what was one of the best orgasms you’ve had from getting head. It makes you melt into Hyunjin’s front, your muscles twitching yet relaxed at its best.

“Christ…” you swallow, breathing heavily in big pockets of air. “Jisung.”

The man finally pops his head back up, a sight for you to absorb with the way his mouth is covered in your juices. The humiliation settles under your skin when you see the mess you’ve made on his face. As if he could care any less, not with the content grin he’s wearing.

When you start descending from your high, it dawns upon you that you’ve had a total of two orgasms so far and not once have you returned the favour to Hyunjin and Jisung. Particularly Hyunjin, who hasn’t had much of your body in comparison to Jisung. He’s been sitting behind you patiently, taking all of the brunt force you made while his friend was going down on you.

Amid the orgasmic haze in your brain, you push past it as best you can to speak, “condoms.”

Jisung nods mindlessly, trying to get the image of you looking so fucked out, out of his head. However, he snaps out of his daze and springs to his feet. He flounders around, thinking that if he doesn’t hurry up and find them, you’re both going to leave.

As Jisung is preoccupied, it gives you an opportunity to sit and turn around and face Hyunjin for the first time in half an hour.

“Lay back,” you mumble to him.

“Hm?”

He tilts his head innocently that it makes you wonder if he’s just pretending or genuinely too dumbfounded with what you’re about to do. You shuffle forward, in between his legs still and kiss him gently. His parted mouth is so plump and supple that it makes you bite down on his lower lip and tug, forcing a tiny whimper out of him.

“Condoms. Okay. Hyunjin, where are your condoms?” Jisung circles back to ask, checking the coffee table, the fruit bowl, even dipping into Hyunjin’s room and tearing open the drawers to his bedside table to check.

After coming up short, he returns to the lounge to see your mouth around Hyunjin’s cock, drawing long, deep, and slow strokes. He swallows hard, watching for a few moments too long until he pulls himself out his daze.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung calls out again.

Hyunjin’s eyes roll back when you sink your entire mouth down onto his length as he grips the rug beneath him, “d-don’t have any here.”

“Shit,” he groans and strides over to the bench where he left his wallet when he first walked in.

Amongst his cards and loose change where he would also keep a few condoms for occasions like this, were unfortunately not there. Out of all the instances where he’s had spontaneous sex, this is the only time he wishes he really had them on hand.

“I haven’t got any either-” he frowns but all he gets is a strained, echoed whimper when you deepthroat Hyunjin’s length. “Fuck…”

Visibly spaced out for a moment, Jisung starts acting a bit like Bambi when he wants to start walking; struggling to put one foot in front of the other as he makes his way back over to you both. From this angle, he’s able to see Hyunjin in a different light. His wavy brown hair covering most parts of his face, knuckles now another shade of morbid white as he nearly shreds the carpet beneath him with his nails.

Jisung thought he looked good - fuckable. But he excuses that thought for the time being.

“Y/N, please…fuck, not…not gonna last if y’keep doing that,” Hyunjin barely manages to get his words out, having to fight them every single time you swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. “I-I’ll cum, fuck.”

For a moment, you pull back from his cock, replacing it with your hand instead to keep up the pleasure you initiated. His body contorts and writhes, the back of his head pressing painfully into the ground. He must be an easily over-stimulated type.

“Fuck me then,” you say to him.

He blinks hazily, like he’s just waking up from a nap, “h-huh? But you - the-“

You were not going to listen to what he’ll start babbling about so this time, you fully abandon his dick and turn around to face Jisung who had been silently watching you both from behind. The obvious, rock hard tent in his pants was alluring. If you didn’t have other motives of getting him off first, you would be in his lap, grinding your wet pussy over his bulge.

From the way he’s been acting, you know he’d let you too.

Jisung gazes into your eyes like a snake that’s being charmed. He’s wondering what your next move is when your lips inch closer to his even though it’s easy to predict a kiss.

That being said, you arch your back, giving Hyunjin a not so discrete choice to fuck you. Presenting your wet hole to him as an invitation. It was a devious move but nothing in comparison to the grand scene of things. That being you and two of your best friends touching each other in ways that friends don’t normally touch.

It isn’t ‘friend behaviour’ if you reach down into Jisung’s lap and palm his hard, neglected cock through the strains of his pants. It’s not ‘friend behaviour’ if Hyunjin moves himself closer to you so that he can delicately graze the pads of his fingers over your dripping slit. Friends don’t do this, yet, as friends, none of you could care less.

All that mattered was sex and to be touched. To be relieved of the delicious pressure that you want to keep just so that the feeling of ‘cumming’ lasts forever. But, you all know that you can’t have too much of a good thing. You can’t get greedy when Hyunjin rises to his knees, stroking his cock a couple of times in hand. Or when he starts slicking up his length in between your wet folds and slowly pushing in.

“S-Shit,” you gasp, causing your hand to stall over Jisung’s dick right as you were about to free him from his pants.

His cock starts filling you up little by little. Hyunjin presses in a few centimetres then pulls back out. He does that until your pussy swallows up his entire dick nice and snug, reaching the base of it. With the amount of prep you’ve had so far, it made the process all the more easier to take the amount of inches Hyunjin packs.

From what you can feel inside you and what you’re palming beneath your hand, it was simple to conclude that Jisung and Hyunjin were relatively similar in size. When you pull the waistbands of Jisung’s pants and underwear down, you were right in your assumption. Beads of pre cum had been leaking pitifully from his angry red tip and down his shaft, most of which were soaked up by the fabric of his clothes.

“Fuck baby,” Jisung whines, sucking in long draws of breaths when your hand wraps around him and slowly tugs. “So good…so hot.”

A small, tired smile spreads on your face, but his compliment does not distract you from the fact that Hyunjin has begun to thrust slowly, along with applying a soft grip on your hips. With that, you lower your mouth down onto the tip of Jisung’s cock. He hisses and grits his teeth, the sensitivity he feels is already overwhelming.

Even more so when you start taking him as much as you can. Thankfully Hyunjin’s thrusts help you take more of him too, bucking forward from the force he starts putting in.

“Bet that…pussy feels just as good as your mouth,” Jisung says breathlessly, carding some of your hair out of the way. He bundles as much of it as he can for you, holding it in a subtle grip on top of your head.

"It does, like warm velvet”, Hyunjin says to himself in his head as a response to his friend's comment.

A hot, wet, and lush pocket that he has the privilege of fucking and not once did he ever fathom a possibility that is so real right now. He has to quickly snap out of his own head for a minute, distracted by that creamy ring around his cock being pushed back to the base of his cock when he slides his entire length in and out of you so fluidly. Taking him all the way.

It’s like you were made for him…

For a second, Hyunjin was convinced you could hear his thoughts as you decided to deepen the arch in your back. His cock now repeatedly hitting a delicious angle that makes your thighs involuntarily shake each time his tip connects with it. The shockwaves of pleasure start to surge and pool inside you, waiting to be released.

“Fuck…yes, baby,” Hyunjin mutters to himself, making the mistake of looking down at where his cock is vanishing in and out of. “Taking us so fucking well.”

You moan around Jisung’s length at the praise, prying more strained whines and cries from him that fills Hyunjin’s ears. It has so much effect on him that he has to look up and see for himself. Jisung looks and is fucked out, like he’s already on the verge of cumming which is a given considering that you’re taking all of him like a champ. The wet sounds your mouth makes as it glides up and down Jisung’s cock sounds just as good as it feels.

Every now and then you suck on his tip when you need to come up for some air, still making sure he has some contact before you mercilessly sink back down again. Once Jisung started rutting slightly into your mouth, tightening the grip he has on your hair, and his loud, quick paced breathing from above, you knew. You knew he wanted to cum.

“Close, fuck I’m so close,” he swallows, biting down on his bottom lip as you bob your head up and down. “Gonna cum Y/N…gonna make me cum.”

Hyunjin observes attentively from behind. Watching in the moments leading up to Jisung’s orgasm, the way he keels forwards, crying out in a series of loud moans as you continue to bring him to the edge, “yes, yes, yes, fuck yes!”

You feel his cock twitch in your mouth, his cum spurting out rhythmically and orgasming so hard that his body shivers over. Not once do you let up, even after his orgasm and even the fact that you have a hypothetical eye on your own which Hyunjin has been curating for you. The pressure has been built so high that it’s hard not to feel like you’re about to explode. Similar to the way you could tell Jisung was about to cum, Hyunjin could easily tell when you were.

You had gotten noisier, even with a dick in your mouth that barred you from using any words, it was obvious the way you were feeling. Your plush walls were starting to tighten themselves cosily around Hyunjin, gripping onto him so that he wouldn’t leave.

As you finally peel back from Jisung’s cock, a long line of spit connects you and his length, mixed with his warm cum. But in a matter of seconds, you’re already there too. You pull back entirely, now a panting, gorgeously ruined mess who’s getting railed the way people can only dream of.

Something possesses Jisung to lean forward and kiss you sloppily, quickly evolving into some messy, wet makeout. He can taste himself in your mouth, exchanging the salty residue that invites him to linger on your lips a little longer, unbothered about the fact that you’re about to be swept over by an intense orgasm.

Only when you start breathing heavily and quickly, Jisung decides to pull away and witness the event unfold. He watches Hyunjin fuck you to your orgasm while his mind is tormented by the way that you look. How his cum mixed with your spit starts drooling out of your mouth when you start crying out from such concentrated pleasure. It feels like Hyunjin just pulled a pin to a bomb inside the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin groans, pulling your body back and forth onto his cock by your hips. “So fucking close.”

“S-Stop - I…cumming, fuck, I’m cumming-” your words are cut short as pleasure shoots throughout your body, fingernails digging into the carpet.

Everything inside of you feels heightened and rocked with a euphoria so immeasurable that your entire body cannot do anything but still and take what Hyunjin gives you. His steady pace doesn’t waiver. Despite the fact that he’s seconds away from busting a warm load inside you, he’s capable of not switching things up drastically so that you get a steady flow of pleasure.

As your walls quiver and spasm around his cock, Hyunjin coats them in a hot thick white. His bruising grasp on your hips is the other outlet he has to mitigate such an intense orgasm. As for you, all you can do is absorb yours. To take his entire cock so greedily when you cum hard that your vision has gone all blotchy. You’re seeing cosmics of tiny glistening stars on Jisung who does nothing but watch out of desire to see you lose your mind so easily. To see you writhe and tear up from how strong the ecstasy is.

“Yes! Fuck, Hyunjin!” You scream out, moaning loudly around his apartment that both of them are sure his neighbours will hear.

But it’s not like he cares if he ever receives a future noise complaint. It’d be an honour to know that he fucked you so good that everyone in his complex could hear you. What a dream that would be; to make you feel good all the time. A very distant dream at that.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin sighs out when your body gives one final shudder, giving you some shallow thrusts to help ease you down. “Good girl.”

Hyunjin pulls out slowly with a hiss as a giddy feeling in his gut that makes his mind twist when he sees his cum mixed with your juices, leak from your hole. So captivated by it that he only starts to realise that you need to lie down. Your body does what it feels like and collapses steadily onto the carpet beside Jisung who lies back with you. It’s not long before Hyunjin follows suit and rests by your other side too.

The three of you then laze on the floor, sticky bodies meshed together for the time being as Hyunjin comes up to spoon you from behind and Jisung from the front. Minutes tick by as you all relax peacefully. You could’ve almost fallen asleep like this until Jisung, who was ‘just closing his eyes’, flashed them open and looked dead into your soul.

“Why’d you need a condom if you let him fuck you raw?” he asks out of nowhere, suddenly expecting a long and complicated reason from you. Despite the filthy things you guys just did, his question seemed so amusingly crass.

“Because I wanted you both to fuck me…at the same time,” you murmur tiredly yet so honestly. “Needed at least one for that.”

“Oh, r-right,” he stutters, then plays it cool. “Usually I carry them with me but-“

“You ran out?” You guess, cutting him off. “Whore.”

Jisung went to open his mouth to object your claim until Hyunjin reached over and covered it with his big hand, “shut up please.”

Hyunjin’s closes his eyes again but his brain now whirs with the thought of what could’ve been. Not that it mattered now. He enjoyed himself and he’s sure that you and Jisung did too who could not think of any words that come close to describing how he feels. His head was clear of thoughts - all except one. Chan. Or at least, what’s going on between you and Chan. Not that it was any of his business.

Nonetheless, he was interested but decided to keep it to himself for now. So while your eyes closed once more, Jisung turns around and reaches for your phone to unlock it before heading to the message he sent to Chan, and the one he received from him too. He checks it over one final time to be sure that what he read earlier was correct.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

He still struggled to believe it. But, with that in mind, Jisung deletes the message and forgets that it ever happened knowing that the next time he sees the others, he’ll ask if they too know anything about what’s going on between you and Chan.

For the time being, he relishes in the afterglow of one of the best nights he’s had. To rest peacefully in the warmth and comfort of his two friends.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

A/N: 060124 - Play Right

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung x reader #hyunjin x reader

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gard3nias · 1 month ago

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26| Open stage

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wc: 9.78k

date: 31/01/2025

mdi // masterlist // playlist

Please read the note at the end because it's a deep dive into how the school system works for more clarity.

—Now playing: Anche Se Non Trovi Le Parole by Elisa ✫

A delicate interplay of warm hues and the cool tones of dawn filled the room as Adrielle moved the Venetian blinds. The cold tones of the early morning crept in, seamlessly blending into the scene and creating the quintessential late autumn atmosphere—blue hour.

Adrielle would wholeheartedly and openly admit to loving summer mornings if given the option to choose. The golden hues resonated with her personality and her overall being. Cold tones were off-putting for her, the key to eternal sadness. The only exception was navy blue, which she preferred in blouses and shoes.

Even her house seemed carved to thrive under the summer golden shades. Its crisp white walls, light-brown flooring, and abundant potted greenery came alive in the warmer months. The colder season consumed that vibrancy, leaving her yearning for sunnier days for half a year.

The sheer curtains, adorned with intricate hand-sewn floral designs, framed her window. As the dull light of the sky shone into the room, the curtains filtered it, casting unique shadows across the walls, the bed, and her face.

Had she been in the attic, she’d have had a better view of the country, observing how the fog draped the neighbourhood like a quilt.

But the view from her room window was limited. On her left, she could only glimpse the modest houses in her neighbourhood, while her tennis court was on her right. In the background were rows of half-naked trees.

She could tell that the day didn’t have the best weather for the townspeople.

Adrielle had woken up forty minutes before her alarm as she had noticed when she had checked her phone. Refusing to turn the lights on, she slumped on her bed and scrolled through her notifications. This left her in the ocean-blue darkness of the early morning with the only light coming from the device in her hands.

Having showered the previous night, her morning routine was a streamlined process. She placed her phone on the bedside table to fix her bed.

Firstly, she fluffed the pillows. Then she smoothened the slightly messy bedsheets before throwing her thick blanket and watching it slowly fall onto the bed. The soft rustling sounds of fabric were a rhythmic backdrop to her thoughts.

She couldn’t see how the room changed when she turned on the bathroom lights. The warm lighting reflected off the caramel-brown walls, casting a cosy glow on the black-and-tan tiles beneath her feet. Once she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she opened the window, welcoming the crisp gust of the morning breeze.

When she turned the bathroom lights off, the warm glow in her room vanished, returning her to the blue darkness. Moving with purpose, but still not turning on the lights, she opened the windows fully to chase away the lingering heat of the night.

Finally, with her phone in hand and her feet in her slippers, she left the room, closing the door behind herself.

According to the house layout, her chamber was the first bedroom on the first floor, right after the studio. Then came the guest room, the bathroom, a nook, and, finally, her parents’ bedroom.

The hallway was dimly lit, but she could tell her parents were awake because a thin line of light shone from underneath their bedroom door.

Adrielle’s eyes didn’t linger for long and she proceeded downstairs for breakfast. As she did so, she caught someone’s movement in the corner of her eye and noticed Yvette’s presence in the kitchen.

“Bonjour, Adrielle,” she greeted.

“Bonjour.”

Yvette, a family friend, was a cornerstone of Adrielle’s life, a tangible connection to her roots. With her Parisian–accented French, she was the only person addressing her name with the right accent—A-dri-el.

Yvette was born into the family because her mother, Gisèle, was Elodie's, Adrielle’s mom, close friend. Gisèle was the housekeeper and the cook while Yvette sometimes helped around.

Yvette met Adrielle for the first time a day after she was born.

Elodie’s water burst two days before the birth. Gisèle was with her every step of the way and Yvette was right back at them.

She was only seventeen at the time and, despite the fear she had felt when everyone was running around the house to get Elodie to the hospital, she had been excited to welcome the baby girl once she’d been born.

Gisèle had promised she’d take her to the hospital the following day and Yvette couldn’t sleep all night. She woke up earlier than usual, had a shower, and prepared breakfast for her mother and herself.

She didn’t want to disturb the woman and sat in the dining room, hoping she’d wake up on her own, but, after fifteen minutes, the excitement forced her to enter Gisèle’s room and wake her up herself.

“Mom, come on. We have to go see Adrielle.” Despite the tiredness, Gisèle got up, smiling.

Around nine in the morning, they had reached the hospital and, luckily for them, Elodie wasn’t asleep, breastfeeding the newborn.

Seventeen-year-old Yvette’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets in amazement. Pupils dilated, smile across her face, and glitters in her eyes.

Elodie had seen it so, smiling and guiding the young girl, Yvette was allowed to carry Adrielle in her arms for the first time.

The little one weighed as much as a feather and Yvette feared the girl would have gotten hurt if she had moved too abruptly. Unconsciously, her voice became tiny as she welcomed Adrielle into the world, and, ever since that day, she’d been taking care of her not like a sister but like a mother would.

Now, she was in her mid-thirties while Adrielle was in her first year as an adult and, every time she laid eyes on the girl, she felt proud. She was the one who spent the most time with her and couldn’t help but be happy at the results of her nursing.

Nothing would stop her from pronouncing ‘Adrielle’ as ‘A-dri-el’ or randomly throwing in some French words when she spoke with the girl. She loved the name, especially when pronounced with the right accent.

Her mother Gisèle had gotten used to calling the girl ‘E-dri-el’ and Elodie ‘E-lo-dee’ without the accent on the last syllable, the same way the girl’s father did, but Yvette was bent on not changing her ways.

Besides, Adrielle admitted she preferred the original pronunciation and Yvette would do anything to make her happy.

“How was your night?” Yvette had settled into the habit of waking up early, especially after Adrielle came along. Little did she know, the youngest had been doing the same thing to steal more moments with her.

It was kind of sweet when thinking about it. Yvette’s mornings had become a routine, filled with the usual rush of tidying up the house and getting ready for the day. But Adrielle, in her own little way, echoed the same early bird vibe, just to catch some extra time with one of her favourite people before the world kicked in.

These small, unspoken details between them were the foundation of their bond.

“Nothing too out of the ordinary, but it was nice.” Adrielle knew that because of what happened on Wednesday and throughout the weekend, this question held a different meaning.

After the shenanigans at Jimin’s restaurant last Wednesday, she went home because the stress had caught up with her and there she remained throughout the rest of the week.

Yvette grew deeply worried and attended to her every day until she got better the same way her friends bombarded her with text messages and Taehyung came to her place to catch her up on what she’d missed in school.

“What would you like for breakfast, chérie?”

Yvette wasn’t in charge of the cooking. In fact, the kitchen was a no-go area for her because Gisèle, her mother, was the cook. But, despite her beginner’s skills, Yvette had learned a few recipes and would cook for Adrielle if the girl ever needed something.

However, she wouldn’t give up if the request exceeded her knowledge. Looking for a recipe book and following every line and word, she would prepare the meal regardless.

“Nothing too heavy. Just a few biscuits and tea, please.” On cue, Yvette ran around the kitchen from cupboard to cupboard to get the ingredients while spurring Adrielle to sit back and do nothing.

“What do you have in store for today?” she asked, working on the tea.

Behind her, Adrielle sat on a stool and thought about the answer. “Nothing really. Today is chill. You won’t believe it but some of my teachers still haven’t told us the date for their tests. I know they’ll wake up at the last minute and leave us cramming seven tests in five consecutive days. How insensitive.”

Yvette chuckled, reminiscing her own school days. “Some teachers plan ahead and tell you when all the tests would be at the beginning of the season. Others do not trust themselves and don’t know if they’ll be able to teach certain topics within a restricted timeframe so they wait until they are actually done before releasing the dates. I know it’s frustrating. When do you think they’ll tell you?”

Two ticking sounds and the stove was turned on. While the tea got ready, Yvette moved to look for biscuits.

“I want to have at least the last week before winter break free, so, hopefully, they will tell us early enough and place them within the first two weeks of December.”

Things were different now. Last Friday, the election results were finally released. She was sleeping when she received the email, but there was no better notification than her friends barging into her bedroom screaming and celebrating.

“We won!”“Let’s go!”“Told you!”

She was still half asleep but didn’t hold her smile back.

It was perfect. Everything they worked on would eventually come to life. The stress they went through had been worth it, and, thinking about it, Adrielle felt bad for the team that didn’t win.

Other than that, their popularity had just reached its peak. From casual rich and stunning kids since middle school to school representatives in high school. What a résumé.

“Do you think that now that you’re one of the school representatives you’ll be able to change that?”

Adrielle gasped before laughing. “Oh, no absolutely not. I’d have to be their employer to do that. I can’t dictate how they do their job. I can judge it, being a student, but I can’t do much about it. For them to change it, I think the principal would have to give them an ultimatum or something—”

“An ultimatum?” Yvette laughed, placing the biscuits into two small plates—one for Adrielle and one for herself.

“Oh, yeah! Some teachers there pay their ears deaf and, unless you threaten their source of income, they won’t move a finger. Their excuse is always ‘Are you dying? No, you’re not, so you’re fine!’ I hate it.”

Yvette was all ears and laughed with the girl as she turned off the stove and poured the hot tea into two mugs. “Like, I mean… I am dying but their messed-up schedules make me die faster.”

Laughing, they finally settled for breakfast, passing the time with chit-chatters. Minutes into it and right before Adrielle returned upstairs to get dressed, the clicking sounds of slippers echoed through the wide space of the floor. Elodie was going down the stairs with a magazine in hand.

“Good morning, there!” she greeted.

“Good morning, Maman,” Adrielle replied softly as she walked past her mother.

The woman froze for a split second, sending a knowing look in Yvette's direction. The latter shrugged and chuckled before dipping her biscuit in the tea.

She’d never understand why the woman despised her roots. Whenever Adrielle said even the simplest thing in French, Elodie always wanted to skin her alive with her eyes. It left Yvette perplexed.

Reaching her destination, Adrielle met the room as cold and fresh as she wanted—no more lingering heat.

To match the cool tones of the morning, she smiled at the idea of wearing a blue sweater over her black top. As for the bottoms, she wore a simple pair of slightly flared jeans, which would frame the top of her deep blue Adidas Samba.

Having naturally straight her, the most she could do was comb out the strands to remove any knots. The process was similar even when doing her makeup, which wasn’t extraordinary—concealer, mascara, a warm tint on her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and lips.

With time still on her side, she reached for her phone to check the schedule for the day and prepare her bag. She even managed to study briefly before heading downstairs again.

From the top of the stairs, she could hear the plates clattering and, once at the bottom, she discovered Yvette was busy doing the dishes.

Her mother was still sitting at the table with the magazine in one hand and a mug in the other. Her short hair was separated into strands and rolled in curlers, face masks covered her eye bags, and the light reflected off her silk nightgown.

It was only a matter of minutes before her father would rush behind them to drive off to work and, as predicted, a sound came from the top floor followed by her father’s hurried movements down the stairs.

“Good morning and bye.” Yvette raised her brows before chuckling, and so did Adrielle’s mom. Instead, the daughter slowly turned to watch as the man exited the house, leaving the trio in disbelief.

“Erm, good morning and bye, I guess,” Adrielle replied a bit puzzled while the two women behind her started laughing.

Her father’s expression didn’t change. He simply waved and closed the front door. Moments later, the car engine roared and he was off to work only to return for dinner.

“You are all ready. Do you still have things to do for the school presidentship to be here at this hour?” Her mother recalled her attention, taking the mug in her hands again.

“No, Mom. That is done. We’ve won the elections, remember? Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, and Avyanna broke into our home last Friday to tell me.”

Yvette, from behind the woman, had a blank expression. Elodie had forgotten again and she knew Adrielle would get a bit annoyed. What she’d forgotten wasn’t a little detail. Even the walls on the house knew how excited and nervous Adrielle was throughout the campaign.

The daughter didn’t spare her mother any more seconds and moved to the anteroom where her coat and scarf were.

“Oh, true. You told me. How stupid of me to forget about it. You were so happy when you discovered it.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Adrielle bitterly whispered through gritted teeth, but her mother didn’t hear or see it. All she could see was her daughter’s back. Gisèle did though, having just come out of her bedroom. She smiled, and Adrielle sighed, caught red-handed.

“Good morning, Gisèle.” The middle-aged woman’s smile didn’t fade and, caressing the girl’s shoulder as she walked by, she replied with a warm tone.

“Good morning, Maman!” Yvette chirped from the kitchen.

Coat on and scarf well-wrapped around her neck, Adrielle bid her greetings and left for school, fifteen minutes earlier than usual. Behind her, Leodie was still perplexed about why her daughter left so early.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” she asked Gisèle and Yvette, suspecting that Adrielle was offended by her forgetfulness.

Yvette smiled tightly, and Gisèle gave her a knowing look. The woman sighed and dropped the magazine on the table. “Is she going to kill me?”

As Adrielle walked out, the cold breeze of the morning bellowed at her to cover up more, so she grabbed her scarf with one hand and put the other in her pocket. Moments later, the small gate was closed behind her and she proceeded on the road of her neighbourhood with one destination in mind: Taehyung’s home.

—Now playing: Home by Gabrielle Aplin ✫

She didn’t want to let the morning get to her because it was still just the beginning of the day. She had almost ten hours to spend with other people. The last thing she wanted to do was act bitchy with everyone.

Her father was as cold and hard to comprehend as an iceberg. His life consisted of very few steps: waking up, eating, going to work, returning home, eating, sparing some time for his family if he felt like it before retiring to bed and restarting the monotonous cycle the following day.

Her mother followed a similar routine, although she tried harder to focus on the family and still failed. The positive thing about her was that Adrielle could talk to her even about normal topics, which meant nothing about school. Her father could only speak with her about school. He considered her academic performance the same way he regarded his job.

Her parents weren’t stingy though; being their only child, they were always elated to spoil her with gifts upon gifts. One would think that the gifts in question would be material, but, to Adrielle, spending some time with them like a family does was the same as a very expensive gift—no money spent, though.

She crossed the road to the one leading to Taehyung’s house, seeing the terminal in the distance with a few buses parked.

An Airpod was plugged in and music played through. Unconsciously, her pace matched the rhythm.

As she walked along the road, she saw a few people already leaving their homes to go to work and she knew it not just because they were visibly full-grown adults but because it was still early that no student would be leaving just yet. She was the exception for the day.

Two songs and a half later, she was in front of Taehyung’s gates and after ringing the bell, the small gate and the front door were opened for her, revealing a smiley Nana.

“Oh, my dear darling. Here you are!” Her happy tone rang from the entrance and Adrielle couldn’t help but smile as she closed the gate and rushed up to her.

After sharing a warm hug with the woman, she was welcomed inside and offered breakfast, which she didn’t refuse—Nana had made cookies the previous day and she loved them.

As she removed her shoes and kept them by the front door, Taehyung came rushing downstairs having understood who could have Nana so jolly this early in the morning.

“Hey, there,” his soft voice greeted her while he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to drag her with him to the dining room.

Just like that, the discomfort she woke up to meet at home faded into the background as she had her second breakfast with the people she cherished—and cherished her. Taehyung, his mom, and Nana.

Given the time, the four of them sat together at the table but couldn’t linger as much as they wanted because the young ones had to leave for school.

Taehyung and Adrielle couldn’t help laughing as they listened to Nana telling them to take care and watch the road like they were six-graders and it was their first time going to school alone.

The greetings stopped only after they had walked a few steps away from the small gate of Taehyung’s home.

When Nana finally closed the front door, Adrielle laughed, both because of the woman and because Taehyung sighed in relief. He was finally able to bring out his pack of cigarettes and smoke one.

“Tae,” she began, “You’ve been smoking since— How long have you been smoking?”

Taehyung could not properly reply to her as he had a cigarette between his lips but he thought about her question and hummed.

“You had your first try like… what? 9th grade?” She voiced his thoughts, so he nodded and removed the cigarette from his mouth to add.

“I started really smoking in 10th grade. In 9th grade, I barely did anything.” As he spoke, his free hand reached into the small pocket of his backpack to get a lighter.

“Yeah, exactly. And you think that since then, they have not discovered it yet? Or they didn’t notice it, at least?” Taehyung shrugged and Adrielle chuckled in disbelief.

“Elle,” he spoke after lighting the cigarette, “I like to play it safe, you never know. Maybe they haven’t yet, so I’m playing my cards right and if they did… well, what can I say?”

Adrielle gave him a knowing look and he smirked in pride. “Okay, I give that to you ‘cause you’re not an avid smoker so, yeah, understandable.” His smirk widened into a full smile and she rolled her eyes.

Between gist, jokes, and giggles, they reached the bus stop at the usual time to meet the usual faces.

The group of people was divided into uneven subgroups. The biggest subgroup included students within their age, who could go to school alone. A smaller subgroup was formed by students who were too young to be alone and were accompanied by an adult figure—parent, grandparent, uncle or aunt. The last and smallest subgroup comprised fully grown adults, who were most likely headed for work.

The bench at the bus stop was freezing-cold and only one person had enough resistance to sit on it. The other people remained on their feet just like Adrielle and Taehyung as they had a light-hearted conversation.

Minutes later, Taehyung crushed his cigarette underneath his shoes, seeing the bus ride down to their stop.

Since their destination called for the bus to ride away from their bus stop to the left, Adrielle and Taehyung turned left as well once they boarded the vehicle and sat on their usual seats in the front.

“Anna kept me up late last night because she wanted advice on how to go about with the cheerleading team she wants to create.” Taehyung groaned causing Adrielle to laugh.

He had signed up to do this with her the same way the rest of their friends did because they didn’t want to leave her alone in it, but, once they won the elections, they realised how serious and tasking the consequences were.

“What? We added it in our presentation that we would open a cheerleading team and Avyanna is eager to do it. Who am I to tell her and all the girls who could be interested no? Anyway—” Taehyung groaned again and rolled his eyes, although his smile gave off the opposite vibes.

She laughed and said, “Anyway, she needs advice on that, and I need your opinion on organising an end-of-year Christmas party.”

Suddenly, Taehyung was all ears, and despite the silence, his expression showed interest.

“I was thinking about organising a joint party with the high school from the neighbouring town, which would mean the party wouldn’t be here because we don’t have a hall big enough for it and Jungkook’s home can’t welcome the amount of people.” Taehyung’s nod spurred her to continue.

“Also, the party will be open for everyone, from freshman to senior year, so it’s better if we’re not the sole hosts. What do you think about it?” Adrielle asked, her tone filled with optimism and anticipation.

Taehyung pursued his lips thoughtfully. “What could I not think about it? It’s a great idea. No one has ever done it before, so heck yeah. Will we collaborate with the representatives of their school?”

His reassuring words and curiosity eased the nervousness within her. She smiled and nodded before resuming again.

Taehyung wouldn’t say he wasn’t listening to her friend, but the bus drew closer to Daphne’s bus stop, so, naturally, his attention started to falter.

He was still all ears, nodding, and commenting where he felt like commenting. All the while, his eyes bounced back and forth from Adrielle to the doors.

Usually, his well-mastered skills would allow him to do this without anyone noticing, especially Adrielle, but things had changed and he didn’t know it. Just as he was attentive whenever Daphne’s name was mentioned so was Adrielle with him.

Adrielle noticed the subtle shift in his demeanour. She knew Taehyung well enough to catch the fleeting glances and the slight edge of anticipation in his expression. His mind was elsewhere, but she kept talking, pretending not to notice.

She knew when Daphne would board the bus. She’d seen Taehyung greet her whenever she got on and off the vehicle enough to learn it herself.

Just as Taehyung’s attention started wavering, so did hers, leaving the both of them on the edge of their seats, awaiting Daphne’s entrance.

The bus had taken off and was just meters from the next stop. Adrielle’s voice had switched to autopilot like in situations like this, so Taehyung didn’t notice the change within her as she spoke to him. Also, he couldn’t see that Adrielle was glaring holes in the side of his face whenever, for a split second, he looked at the doors.

—Now playing: Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish ✫

Eventually, the bus stopped and the doors slid open. They couldn’t see who came in from the front doors because they were back-facing them but they had a perfect view of the ones in the centre and the back.

Whenever the doors opened, a hissing sound was released before the crackling sounds of the vehicle returned. Since they were still far from meeting a huge crowd of passengers, as the bus was boarded, there wasn’t much noise—nor was there Daphne.

Taehyung’s sneaky looks changed when he saw that nobody followed behind Cleo. The curly-headed girl had wrapped her head with her scarf in the form of a hood and, after watching her steps, she returned her focus to her phone, feet proceeding to the back of the bus.

“You said all this but you didn’t talk about the date. When do you intend to put it?” Taehyung asked, looking at Adrielle, although his mind was bothered.

Her tone was still the same—autopilot mode—but her mood wasn’t and there was no way he could find out. Not when the leading actress in the play was Adrielle.

“Possibly after the last day of school, on Saturday.”

Adrielle noticed how, despite keeping his eyes on her, his hand reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone and she already had an idea about what he wanted to do with it. Just like that, a sudden wave of irritation washed over her.

To not seem impolite, he excused himself to text someone quickly. She knew who this ‘someone’ was even though she had no confirmation when, feigning to stretch her body, she read the contact name on his phone.

Lauri? Who’s Lauri? Isn’t he texting Daphne?

She blinked away, moving her eyes to the window at the possibility of them being so close they now have nicknames for each other.

She recalled seeing a full chat. She couldn’t tell when they last texted because there were so many messages, and the chat date was probably far up. However, knowing he worked on her questions the previous day, they most likely texted very recently.

Taehyung didn’t notice Adrielle’s sneaky behaviour, being too preoccupied with Daphne’s absence. Once he sent the message, he looked up at Cleo, who was already looking in his direction aware that her friend’s absence would trigger him.

From his eyes, she got the question and answered him mouthing that Daphne was sick. Gesturing, she explained that her friend was probably sleeping as they spoke.

The information didn’t seem to ease him much. Adrielle could tell by the way his fingers hovered over his phone, as if unsure whether to send another message.

That was the confirmation she needed. Lauri was Daphne.

Taehyung was already expecting it. There had been signs throughout last week. It first began with a soft sore throat, but Daphne had a runny nose and hints of an intense cough. Evidently, it had gotten worse.

“What happened?” Adrielle casually asked, assuming her silence would weird him out.

He had a crush on the girl, so his reaction was completely normal, but this reminder did her no good.

“From what I understood, she’s sick and right now, she’s sleeping.”

Adrielle raised an eyebrow, keeping her voice light. “Sick? She seemed fine yesterday. Maybe it’s just a cold?”

Yeah, truly, Adrielle didn’t care. Not because she wished Daphne would die in her sick bed—that would have Taehyung not even on the edge of his seat but straight into the brunette’s home—but because she didn’t ask the question out of curiosity. She just had to. She was his friend after all.

“I guess. She’s been sick the whole week and it only worsened,” he replied, thinking he was casually replying to a friend.

Really, beside him, Adrielle’s irritation grew stronger at the thought of how much time he’d spent with Daphne for him to speak like that.

She smiled politely, thoughts churning in her restless mind. She hated how much weight Daphne’s name seemed to carry with Taehyung. It wasn’t jealousy—or at least that was what she told herself. She was frustrated to see him so preoccupied when they were supposed to discuss something important.

Almost without noticing, her hand reached into her bag to grab her book and, after sending a few texts, Taehyung turned his phone off only to find his friend unavailable: Adrielle’s eyes were on the book, so she didn’t see him furrow his brows, confused. Underneath his facial expression, he tried to make sense of her behaviour.

Yes, tried because his phone vibrated in his pocket and, hoping it would be Daphne, his attention had relocated again.

It was indeed Daphne, and she confirmed to him that she was too sick to go to school.

Lauri: I fucking hate my life

Lauri: why right now

Lauri: the test is on Monday

Taehyung: there you go again, focusing on the wrong things

Taehyung: you’re sick Daphne. I think you have something to be more worried about rn

Lauri: Tae, my health will deteriorate faster if I don’t also focus on physics

Sighing and rubbing his face, Taehyung refused to believe what he had read. He didn’t know how sick she was, but, to him, even the slightest cold was enough for her to have to lock out everything and focus on her health.

Taehyung: you can’t be fr

Lauri: sadly, I am TT

Lauri: I’ll do some exercises and send you a text if I have any doubts or do you have a better idea

Taehyung: yeah, how about you focus on getting better?

Lauri: wow, nice one. I’ll take it into consideration

Lauri: next time :)

Unwillingly, Taehyung chuckled, although he was still annoyed she didn’t want to see reasons with him.

Beside him, the subtle movement of his body as he reacted to the text caused Adrielle to read the same sentence repeatedly.

In front of him, at the back of the bus, Cleo briefly watched his actions, smiling and thinking he was texting her friend. “Freaking lovebirds,” she muttered, hands busy crocheting.

Taehyung: how sick are you?

Lauri: a tad more than a normal cold

Taehyung: oh God

Taehyung: you can’t even go out then

Lauri: yeah, no I can’t. My parents wouldn’t even let me

Taehyung: as they should

Taehyung: you have a stomach ache as well?

Lauri: no, thankfully

Lauri: throwing up is scary

The bus stopped again, the doors slid open, and a gust of fresh air hit them from behind as people boarded the vehicle.

Taehyung stopped texting, thinking about what to send to her. Adrielle saw how he rummaged through his mind and saw that he was thinking. About what she didn’t know, she just hoped he’d be done soon.

After the three dancing dots stopped, two messages came through.

Lauri: am I too greedy if I ask you to come around after school?

Lauri: omg, I think I am

His eyes slightly bulged out, but he had to maintain his composure. Surely, the speed at which he replied didn’t show much self-control but rather extreme excitement.

Taehyung: no problem

Taehyung: and no, you don’t sound greedy

Taehyung: I fear you would get sicker if I didn’t

He looked up from the device again, checking his surroundings to see if anyone could see the truth behind his eyes. He was losing it, yes, but could others see it? Hopefully not.

Lauri: perfect. I’ll just have to tell my parents

—Now playing: Jealousy, Jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo ✫

Adrielle saw Taehyung smiling in the corner of her eye. How could such a small and harmless thing bother her so much?

Did he not notice her take her book?

She hated seeing him constantly thinking about Daphne. Hated the way nothing she said was strong enough to distract him. Hated how their conversation melted like salt in water as soon as Daphne’s bus stop was closer. Hated how quickly he brought out his phone to text her. She even hated the fact that they texted at all and, now, she hated how engrossed he was on the phone, smiling and chuckling like she wasn’t right there, right next to him.

Was he this inconsiderate and wasn’t Daphne supposed to be asleep?

Adrielle’s frustration simmered as she tried to focus on her book, but the situation had thrown her rhythm completely off. Despite the number of pages left, she knew she could’ve finished it by now under normal circumstances. But her mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts she couldn’t silence. She repeatedly read sentences, the letters shuffling and creating more confusion.

Despite the fogged-up windows, she saw how the empty fields along the road blurred past, and the early morning sun was invisible behind the clouds. A gloomy day—yeah, cold tones were not for her.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence until Jimin got on the bus. This wasn’t unusual. Their friendship was based on enjoying each other’s presence without necessarily having to interact. But, knowing what he was doing on the phone, especially who he was texting, the silence suddenly had a different meaning.

She was used to reading and studying, and Taehyung usually listened to music next to her—their many years of friendship turned them into somewhat siblings, so there was no problem. But now, everything was different. Adrielle felt left out and ignored.

She wanted to release her frustration and crumble the strong and thick corners of the book with her hands, but that would only hurt her and draw unnecessary attention. Still, once they were at school, she resented her choice.

Jimin had dragged her so they would join Jungkook, Avyanna, and their siblings, who had tagged along that day. But the thought of leaving Taehyung behind at the bus stop while he was on the phone made her brain experience a stronger discomfort and pain than lobotomy could ever produce.

Taehyung was in the corner, phone to his ear and his free hand in his pocket. Adrielle didn’t have confirmation but was any needed? She was certain the person on the other end was Daphne.

How the girl had managed to monopolise so much of his time was a mystery Adrielle wanted to solve so she’d practice the skill herself.

Worse of it all was her friends' lack of awareness. They didn’t seem bothered by Daphne’s intrusion into Taehyung’s life.

First, she had taken over his afternoons, and he was barely available for lunch at Jimin’s. Second, she took the spotlight on Wednesday at the practice matches, shifting Taehyung's focus from basketball to her. Then, she took up even his private study time, forcing him to prioritise her over his responsibilities. Now, despite her absence, Daphne was also taking away valuable time he could have spent with his friends.

How come Adrielle was the only person seeing this? Was she overreacting, or was everyone else blind?

When Taehyung finally returned, he didn’t utter a word about the call. Adrielle didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed.

Who was the caller? Nana? His mom? Or Lauri? What did they talk about? Why did it take them so long?

She didn’t know what to do with all these unanswered questions. It gnawed at her brain, but she convinced herself it was better if she didn’t know anything. At least this way, she could enjoy the day without Daphne’s presence looming over them.

For a while, things returned to their default settings. Taehyung didn’t scurry away during breaks nor did anyone talk about his supposed crush. It was like the old days before Daphne had arrived.

Adrielle relished the familiar dynamics, feeling a sense of contentment she thought had abandoned her. That was why, at the end of the day, she didn’t hesitate to ask Taehyung if he’d come over to study together. She wanted him to finish teaching her what she’d missed out on last week due to her absence.

But, once she received the answer, the world around her faded into the cold shades she hated so dearly. The tones weren’t even blue—there was still a bit of life to sadness. The hues were grey. Lifeless. Dead. Just like the silence that followed his answer. It was like a party pooper had broken into a celebration to turn the music off abruptly. Time slowed down, and his words echoed in her brain.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t,” he began in a casual tone, almost dismissive. “Daphne’s very sick. Her test is on Monday, so I’ll go over to her place to help her.”

When the final explanation came, if possible, the bus windows would’ve shattered just like her hopes. Was this how betrayal felt?

Even the timing was awful. She’d asked him this question a couple of stops before Daphne’s, so as he replied, his hands worked to adjust his bag and jacket. He was getting ready to leave. In moments, she’d be riding alone with her thoughts.

“Oh, how nice of you.” Adrielle nodded at his excuse, with a tight-lipped smile and her voice on autopilot. Her words conveyed a double meaning.

They were as genuine as anyone would want them to be: your friend offered to help their crush study because they’re sick; that is so sweet and any good friend would applaud that.

Yet, the other meaning was its stark contrast. How nice of him to choose her over their almost two-decade friendship. Just how lovely, really and he simply smiled, oblivious to the turmoil behind her light-blue eyes.

Following the script, her hand reached into her bag and pulled out her book. As she did so, her soul lost years of its life when Taehyung didn’t react, getting up from his seat.

How could he anyway? Her face was a mask, hiding her true feelings better than Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak.

He bid her goodbye and headed to the back door, where Cleo was already waiting, finger hovering over the red button. As he did so, he left cold air in his wake.

“Hello, there!” She cheerfully acknowledged his presence. He waved and, once the expected question was dropped, explained his plans for the day without a second thought. Little did he know, Cleo was screaming inside.

Once Daphne was healthy and without a headache, she’d holler in her ear that she was indeed bagging the dude. And no, she wasn’t exaggerating.

The doors slid open and they stepped off the bus, walking toward the neighbourhood. Cleo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder how Daphne felt throughout the day. Surely, she hadn’t been calm either.

Exactly, when Daphne sent Taehyung the special message earlier that morning, she facepalmed herself so hard that it restored her headache.

“What have I done?” she muttered to herself before her heart raced out of her chest when she read his reply. It had come so quickly that she hadn’t even had the time to rethink her decisions.

—Now playing: She by Harry Styles ✫

“Oh, my—” Her words caught in her throat as she quickly replied before tossing her phone onto the bed.

She stood up too quickly, doing her body no justice. Her iron deficiency almost kicked in, but luckily she didn’t lose her balance, eyes wandering around the room, inspecting every corner.

“Where the fuck are we going to study?” she yelled to herself in whispering tones.

She’d woken up thirty minutes later than usual because of her sickness and, having not an ounce of strength in her body, she remained in bed, moaning and groaning from the discomfort.

Her heart had relocated to her head, pounding mercilessly.

Her nose had gone on holiday, hanging the ‘closed’ banner on the door, and forcing her to breathe from her mouth. This warranted the uncomfortably dry feeling in her throat. The Sahara desert was soaked next to her throat.

Meanwhile, all the moisture in her body seemed to have migrated to her eyes, making her unwillingly cry.

She wore wool socks, but her feet refused to welcome the warmth, pushing her to the brink of madness—worse than psychosis.

As she moved a foot after the other to check the bedroom, she wondered if she had done something wrong. Had she opened an ancient artefact and summoned an old spirit? Had she unknowingly said something out loud that the universe had decided to manifest? Because why the fuck was this cold treating her like this?

Her mother had come to check her up minutes ago, wondering why she wasn’t already awake and when Daphne tried to talk to her, all she emitted were disconnected breathy sounds. Good Lord.

Like she had contracted a deadly virus, her mother got all worked up, complaining because she had a long shift that day and wouldn’t be back until late in the evening.

Her father heard the commotion and remained at the door, checking his daughter from a distance, compassion etched on his face. He couldn’t even say anything—his shifts were always long.

Within minutes, everything was at her disposal and close reach. She had an extra blanket on, a mug of warm tea on the bedside table, and tissue rolls.

“Darling, I’ll inform Granny and Grandpa, so they’ll check on you, okay? You have your phone. If you need anything, hit me up. I won’t leave my phone on DND so I’ll immediately pick up, don’t worry.”

The woman sounded distressed, and Daphne wanted to roll her eyes and tell her it wasn’t that serious but, now, where would she find the voice to tell her that?

“Mom?” Her voice was almost inaudible. She cleared her voice, regretting it the following moment when it burned her throat. “A friend of mine…” She struggled, “Will come over to help me study—”

“Daphne, are you serious?” Lacking the requirements to reply properly—a healthy voice and no headaches—Daphne left her eyes to do the job for her.

Fortunately, her mother read through them and she tilted her head, with a knowing look across her face.

“Please?” It hurt hearing her daughter’s voice so thin and, knowing Daphne was an anxious student—but unaware of the extent—she eventually gave in, agreeing and urging Daphne to sleep until then.

Did she listen? You take a guess.

As soon as Daphne heard the front door closing followed by a whole minute of silence, she got out of the covers, sitting up and grabbing her phone.

Looking at the clock, Taehyung was supposed to be already at school, but there was still a chance he was outside, especially knowing the people he hung around with, so she texted him.

Daphne: can I call you?

As if he’d set a notification in his head, he replied seconds later, and the call began.

It was simple. She would sleep for a bit, hoping her headache would subside. Then, she’d revise and do exercises, preparing material for questions. Once school was dismissed, he’d just have to come over and they’d have lunch together before spending the afternoon studying. All this was to be done before her parents would be back to avoid any teasing from her mother.

He agreed, voice casual and nonchalant as usual. Little did she know that he would’ve been jumping around like one who’d won the lottery if he hadn't been in public.

Daphne was someone who thrived in routines. She loved them. Following the same process, step by step every day gave her a sense of stability. Yet, she failed the first thing they had agreed on: sleeping.

As she worked, the noise was so loud she didn’t hear when her grandfather came over to give her some drugs and a few treatments Granny had prepared for her.

“My dear, how are you feeling? Granny told me to give you this—” The words died in his throat.

There, standing in the hallway upstairs, was his granddaughter struggling to move a desk from one room to the other.

With a red nose and glittering eyes, Daphne awkwardly smiled, caught red-handed.

“I, erm—” She cleared her voice. “I’m trying to move this into my room,” she finally said with the little voice left in her.

Her grandfather was beyond perplexed as he watched with furrowed brows. “Darling, why do you—”

“A friend of mine is coming over to help me study because I have a test on Monday.” That was the most she’d spoken that morning and it strained her thin voice so much her grandfather almost laughed in her face because of the sound.

Pouting and feigning anger, Daphne pleaded with him not to laugh, although she herself was laughing with him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My bad. Want some help?” She nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Daphne collected the drugs and the treatments while he took over the task, letting her rush inside her room to drop them on the bedside table.

Moments later, they had replaced her desk with Dayanne’s old and bigger one and, only once they were done, did the old man wish to satisfy his curiosity.

“So… this friend… is it a boy or a girl?”

Daphne snapped her head in his direction, shocked by the words she just heard. “Why would that matter—” She coughed, a direct consequence of trying to raise her voice a little bit above what she could afford.

He laughed. She laughed. Then they returned to seriousness. “So, who is it?”

“Why would I tell you? You’ve mocked me enough.” Grandpa laughed harder, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulder to comfort her and express his deepest apologies.

“I’m sorry, darling but, you see, an old man like me lives a very boring and monotonous life. Don’t you think some gossip could, you know, spice it up a little?”

“And why am I supposed to be the main topic in the gossip?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him and struggling to withhold her smile.

“You’re my lovely granddaughter. You’ll always be the main topic—”

“In gossip?” The old man laughed, denying her claims before reminding her of his question while she dramatically gasped.

“So?” He didn’t give up and it surprised her. She didn’t immediately answer, looking into his eyes to see if he would stop, but seconds passed and nothing changed.

So, seeing that he wouldn’t back down until she let it out, she finally admitted defeat. “A boy.”

As soon as she dropped the answer, the old man whistled and his brows danced. Just a quick glimpse of it was enough for Daphne to free herself from his grip and run away, cringing really hard.

“Ooh, a boy, huh?” he teased her, and she covered her ears with both hands. He didn’t stop until she threw him a final glaring look.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop,” he began, retreating to exit her room. “But don’t forget to update me about how today goes!”

With that, he rushed out of the room and left the house, screaming his greetings as he went down the stairs. “Granny will come to see you once she’s back from Opes Nostras, okay?”

Daphne sighed hard, dropping on the blankets on her bed and enjoying the soft air that blew as they deflated underneath her weight.

What just happened?

Knowing that her grandparents would be coming in and leaving the house a lot because of her condition, she didn’t want to study in the dining or living room—especially because she wanted to keep herself warm without moving the numerous blankets on her bed downstairs.

That was when she realised that her desk was too small to welcome two people simultaneously. So she borrowed Dayanne’s desk since it caught dust in the room next door. Getting caught by Grandpa wasn’t according to the plan.

She spent the following minutes moving her stuff onto the new desk, occasionally sipping from her tea cup to ease the burn in her throat.

Then she went to the bathroom to get all the supplies to clean. She swept every corner of the room, dusted every surface, and removed any trashed paper or space-taking object.

In forty minutes of working and occasionally dropping dead on the bed from tiredness, Daphne finished the self-assigned task right on time before Granny entered the home.

“Daphne?” she chanted from the bottom floor. With her face against the covers, Daphne’s reply was muffled, but she could hear her grandmother walking up the stairs and eventually making it to her room.

“Ooh, darling why aren’t you under the covers? Come on—”

“I invited Taehyung over to help me with physics so I was just tidying up the place.” Her voice was muffled but she went straight to the point without hesitation or delay. It caught Granny off-guard.

“Tae— What?— Who’s Taehyung?”

Rolling on her back and, against her body’s wish, Daphne sat up to face the woman. “The nice and pretty boy from senior year, who offered to tutor me in physics.”

Just as Grandpa, Granny whistled and giggled, acknowledging only the first part of Daphne’s reply. “A nice and pretty boy from senior year?”

“Granny!” Daphne whined, throwing herself back onto the bed and regretting it the following moment. Groaning from the pain, she held her boiling forehead and slowly moved her head on the bed, hoping it would soothe the ache.

“Ooh, take it easy, yeah?” Granny’s soft voice spoke as she caressed the girl. “Grandpa brought you the drugs?” Daphne’s hum was incredibly tiny because she feared speaking a decibel higher would break her skull— she was voiceless anyway.

Following Granny’s lead, Daphne had something to eat and took her medicine, before getting tucked back into bed, under the warmth she desperately needed.

“So, this boy… does he have a name?” The woman whispered to ease her granddaughter’s pain and make her fall asleep faster.

Daphne nodded, blinking slowly, and replied. “Yes, I said it before. His name’s Taehyung. He lives around here.” Voice a slim bit above a whisper.

Granny carefully adjusted herself on the bed so she wouldn’t alter Daphne’s falling-asleep process. “Oh, I think I know him”.

Another soft hum from the girl. “Yeah, you said it last time.”

“Is he coming after school?”

This time, Daphne didn’t hum but nodded, blinking slowly again. “Yes, right after school—”

“That means he’ll be having lunch here.” Granny couldn’t help smiling because the girl was already falling asleep without even noticing.

Opening her eyes and turning to face Granny, Daphne asked. “Can he eat here with us?”

The woman grinned and, caressing her granddaughter’s forehead, she nodded, promising to prepare lunch for Taehyung as well.

Daphne nodded, smiling with contentment. “Now, focus on sleeping, okay? I’ll make lunch,” Granny whispered before pecking her granddaughter’s forehead and leaving the room.

Her heart ached seeing how unfazed her absence was to Daphne. The little one fell asleep moments after getting under the covers.

Turning off the lights, the room fell into a gloom with cold undertones as the blue sky reflected inside through the windows.

—Now playing: Dreams by Fleetwood Mac ✫

Daphne’s state when she woke spoke volumes—she even laughed at herself in the mirror.

She’d styled her hair into two braids the previous night, but now they looked like fur balls. She had only one sock on because the other was lost under the covers. The trousers of her pyjamas were messed up, going up to her knee on one leg and full of wrinkles on the other, while the top button of her top had popped off. How? She had no idea.

“Jeez, what happened?” Daphne giggled, adjusting her attire without any effort. She wanted to shower anyway.

She didn’t know the exact time she’d woken up but, seeing that the room was brighter without any artificial lights on, she guessed it was midday if not later.

It was her first time being home at this hour on a day like this. She rarely skipped school and if it weren’t for her parents, she would’ve gone to school anyway, but she was thankful to have stayed home. Her headache was so strong that she thought WWIII was taking place there.

The sky was light blue, brighter than in the morning, and rid of many clouds it initially welcomed. Her neighbourhood was silent and desolate when she opened the window. Even the breeze wasn’t as cold as expected.

Letting the room change air, she opened her wardrobe to get new clothes. Once she’d gathered all her necessities, she closed the window and went to the bathroom.

As she showered, revelling under the warm water, Granny had lunch downstairs while watching some TV. When she heard noise from the top floor, she deducted Daphne had woken up. After almost twenty minutes of giggling and eating, Granny checked the time and hopped off the couch, rushing to wash her plate.

She chugged down some water, rinsed the cup, and ran upstairs to her granddaughter. Knocking twice on the door but to no avail, she entered the room after saying: “I’m coming in!”

Her granddaughter’s bedroom was empty, but the answer to her confusion was the sound of rushing water from the bathroom.

The room was still the same, the only difference was the clothes on her bed. She proceeded to the bathroom and, knocking on the door, called for the girl’s attention.

“Daphne?” Being under the showerhead, Granny’s voice was muffled to Daphne’s ears, but she heard her.

“Yes?” she replied without turning the water off. The last thing she wanted was to feel cold.

“I think the boy will be around soon. It’s almost half past two.” Just like that, Daphne shut the water and darted out of the shower.

“Are you serious?” She called for more confirmation as she wrapped herself in a towel, trying to move fast but not slip and fall like a fish out of water.

Granny agreed, telling her to hurry up and that she was leaving. “If you need anything, you can call me. I’m next door anyway.”

As Daphne replied, she was thankful her voice was partially restored and she didn’t sound like a dying cat anymore.

Hurriedly, she applied her lotion and sped through her self-care routine. This wasn’t how it had to go. This shower had to be that type of shower, the one where she’d do everything in slow motion, without missing a step.

Turning the lights off, she ran into her bedroom dressed only in her underwear and basically jumped into her pants—thankfully, they weren’t jeans. She almost tore her tank top as she wore so, to prevent creating holes in her wool sweater, she slowed down a bit only to speed up again as she put her socks on.

Her hair was still wet and flew everywhere as she blow-dried it. Her wrists were on the edge of snapping because of how fast she moved them to quickly dry her hair, regretting having them long.

Finishing in record time, Daphne left the bathroom once and for all. She wore her slippers and before rushing downstairs, she went to her window to check if he was already coming.

Totally deserted. Perfect.

But also imperfect because she spent the whole time moving from one window to another, filled with anticipation, excitement, and nervousness. She even tried to behave nonchalantly as if being watched, but her body betrayed her whenever she purposely walked past a window and checked outside from the corner of her eye.

Daphne didn’t want to have lunch, wishing to eat with Taehyung. So she remained restless in the now empty house. Her only companions were Loki and Luke, who barked reading her body language.

She had to shush them at some point because she eventually saw him. Taehyung was outside, walking next to Cleo and entering her neighbourhood. The sight made her gasp and the dogs bark.

“Hey, shh shh,” she begged, index to her lips while her other hand gestured for them to calm down.

“Y’all have to behave today, okay? He’s not just a random person,” she gossiped with the dogs, who wagged their tails, looking up at her like they understood what she said.

Daphne crouched to caress them a bit and continued. “I like him, okay? He’s special but you must not scare him away, okay?” She spoke to them but also indirectly to herself. The dogs were silent as she rubbed their fur.

Finally, she got up and almost gasped again when she saw he’d just gone his separate way while Cleo proceeded to her home.

“Aah, he’s here!” she shrieked, telling the dogs to move aside as she calmly went down the stairs, one foot after the other. She almost tripped on air when the bell rang.

“Holy shit!” Her squeal was high-pitched but almost silent as well.

Naturally, Loki and Luke rushed past her to the front door, barking. With a hand on the railing, she gestured with gritted teeth so the dogs would stop, but, obviously, they weren’t listening.

Snapping back to reality, she finally reached the ground floor. Begging the walking fur balls to calm down, she adjusted herself in the little mirror in the anteroom. A deep breath, one hand opened the gate while the other reached for the door handle.

There he was. He turned around after closing the gate and smiled as he approached her.

“Hey, Lauri.”

⋅author's corner⋅

As requested and promised, I'm going to deeply dive into the school system depicted in the book.

I was born and raised in Italy, and, having to write what I know, the school system in the story follows the Italian one.

❀ The school system.

First of all, we have l'asilo nido, which is basically like a daycare for toddlers. Then there are three years of scuola materna, kindergarten. Following, we have five years of elementary school (1st to 5th grade), three of middle school (6th to 8th grade), and five of high school (9th to 13th grade, basically).

Now, I didn't completely follow the Italian school system because there are also different types of high schools. There is liceo, istituto tecnico and istituto professionale. I think I put them in order of difficulty. Some licei are focused on science, liceo scientifico, others are focused on classic literature, liceo classico or arts, liceo artistico. I didn't specify this because I'm treating the school the same as a normal random high school.

❀ My experience.

How the school in the book specifically works follows my school and my experience.

The school year is divided into a three-month season, from September to December, and a five-month period, from January to June basically.

During the first season, the students, mostly from 11th to 13th grade, so from 16 years onward, are allowed to run in a campaign to become school representatives. This year, there were four different teams running. Then we had a day of presentations when all the classes, at various hours of the day, had to go to the auditorium to assist and eventually make up their mind for the votes. I don't remember exactly when but the students voted for the team they preferred and eventually there was a winner.

Once the team is elected, they can organise various activities and projects for the students, obviously with the consent of the principal, and they can also host end-year parties.

An extra, which will come up in the book as well, is the so-called week of the "deserving/worthy" students, which is a week, precisely the last week of January, when students who passed all their classes, so all the subjects, get to pick an activity to do throughout the week, so basically lessons are interrupted. On the contrary, those who didn't pass all their classes will have to attend school regardless of that week, although they don't stay from eight to two but from eight to one.

Note that when I say 'classes', it means various things. In Italian, it refers to the classrooms. In Italy, in high school, teachers don't have a classroom, and students don't go to the teachers. It's the other way around: teachers go to the students. The students form a class and they have specific teachers for each subject. Second note. I use the term 'classes' when referring to the subjects and if I want to refer to the classrooms, I always use 'classroom', just to differentiate it and cause no confusion in case y'all are not used to it.

❀ The grading system.

The grades in Italy are not in letters but in numbers. The lowest grade, the typical F, is 2 in high school (but usually teachers give you such a bad score if they catch you cheating during a test, else they usually go for 3). The highest grade, the typical A, is 10, but teachers feel like they would get a stroke giving 10s so they always give like 9 or 8.5 (eight-and-a-half).

You pass the test only if you take a 6. Taking a 5 is insufficient and you have to retake the test somehow or study harder to pass the next one.

Each subject has a total grade, so if in philosophy you took a 6 in October's oral test and a 7 in December's oral test, your final grade in philosophy is 6 + 7 = 13 divided by 2 (which is the number of grades you have), so for a total of 6.5. In the same way, if you've taken three different maths tests on three different dates and on a different topic, you do the addition and then divide everything for the total amount of grade to know how you're performing in maths.

The same way it works for tests, it goes for the subjects, so if you have a 5.5 in a subject, you have failed the class. But if you have a 6, you passed it.

Grades differ by 0.25, so if you take a 7-, it means your grade is 6.75 (7 - 0.25). If you take an 8+, your grade is 8.25 (8 + 0.25). And so on.

Currently, Daphne's total grade in physics is insufficient because she took a 5 and a 5.5. Her total grade in physics is 5 + 5.5 = 10.5/2 = 5.25. To pass the subject, she'll have to take 7.5 upwards to get 5 + 5.5 + 7.5 = 18/3 = 6. Six means she passed the subject.

❀ The hours.

The day starts at eight o'clock for a total of six hours, which ends at two PM. Each class lasts an hour except for some: since there are two ten-minute breaks, some hours last fifty-five minutes.

Like that, the schedule is. first hour, 8 AM to 9 AM; second hour, 9 AM to 9:55 AM; third hour, 10:05 AM to 11 AM; fourth hour, 11 AM to 11:55 AM; fifth hour, 12:05 PM to 1 PM; sixth hour, 1 PM to 2 PM.

Sometimes, depending on the school year or the class (as in a classroom of students and not the subject), the day might end by half past four in the afternoon, with a break from 2 to 2:30 PM.

Sometimes it's because of an extracurricular activity else because of an extra class, which is usually civics/civic education once a week.

❀ School trips.

Obviously, there are also school trips, which can be days long or hours long. The trips are different: some are quick and within the day; they're called uscite didattiche, educational outings I believe. Any type that is longer than an outing is called a trip.

I think I'm done. If y'all have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me.

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