#dinner plate was recycled from yesterday's dinner plate

[quicksilversquared]

I need to know which of my roommates has stored all but two of the house plates plus 90% of the silverware, plus the two short kitchen knives in their room, because this is getting ridiculous.

[fran-in-the-deep]

Happy Birthday Hange!

Hange x Reader / Canon

~1.2k words | lots of fluff | established relationship

“Where the fuck is four-eyes?”

Levi was pissed. He stomped into Hanges empty quarters, opening and closing the door to the bathroom, the wardrobe, looking under the bed. All while you stood in the doorway, the tray with cake in your hands, Moblit behind you carrying the stack of plates and the cutlery. Why did Hange always have to be so unpredictable? You had all met up super early for their birthday surprise to make sure Hange would still be asleep. Additionally it was a regular work day for everyone but you.

“Let’s check the lab then.” Moblits suggestion was met by a scoff from Levi and a nod from you.

The birthday brigade made its way down the hallway, led by the cake that Moblit and you had made the evening prior. You weren’t as good with elaborate plans for such an occasion as Hange was and didn’t need to. They had told you they’d like a cake and then joked that you could take them out for dinner. It was from a time before you got together and had been your plan since forever. This year you would make it happen. If you found them.

Yet when you entered the part of the basement at whose end the lab/office/occasional sleeping place was located, you already heard what sounded like a yelp from Hange and something falling to the stone floor. A good sign and a bad sign. The three of you hurried across the hall.

“Are you okay?”

You had opened the door only slightly, a safety precaution against whatever might have spilled or been broken. Levi wasn’t that considerate, pushing it open with his foot, nearly hitting Hange in the face who had moved towards to the door by then. Luckily their reflexes still worked and they didn’t even seem to notice, expression lighting up when they saw you.

“Oh perfect timing, you won’t believe what I found!”

Hange nonchalantly took the tray with the cake, setting it aside on one of the few empty surfaces that were even more precious considering the current condition of the room. You didn’t get to say anything, too confused by whatever Hange had going on right now. It wasn’t was you expected at all. Stumbling over ropes that had been used to restrain titans and hitting your feet against the old broken microscope Hange had meant to recycle, you were pulled along by them, having taken your now free hands in theirs.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Levis voice always managed to draw everyones’ attention to him, even Hange who was solely focused on you, one arm around your waist while reaching for something with the other. They turned around.

“Sorting out the lab, Erwin told me yesterday he needs the inventory list till the end of the week. What are you doing here then?”

“You know it’s your birthday today, do you?” You asked Hange in a quiet voice, reaching up to gently adjust their glasses that had nearly fallen off in the whole ordeal.

Hange stared, gaze shifting from Levi to Moblit to you, mouth slightly agape and you could see the gears working in their head.

“Isn’t that tomorrow? On Tuesday?”

“It’s Tuesday.” You stated, following their eyes that where now resting on the cake.

“Oh.”

“Happy Birthday.” You took the initiative, pulling them close and pressing a gentle kiss to their lips that Hange was still too stunned to reciprocate at that point.

“Happy Birthday.” Levi had crossed his arms, still annoyed but visibly softening up now.

“Happy Birthday! Let’s all eat the cake we made for you then, shall we?” Moblit was a master of diffusing difficult situations and again it worked like a charm. He took the maze of things lying on the floor like it was nothing, setting up the plates on the small side table.

“Oh you made cake for me? You’re the best.” Hange gave you the brightest smile and then continued to cover you face in kisses, brimming over with excitement again.

“Moblit and me.” You corrected them while being yet again pulled through the chaos on the floor towards the small table that Moblit had set in the meantime while Levi brought the cake over. The lab wasn’t even that big, yet with how crammed everything was and nowhere to set your feet, the perceived distances grew.

“Thanks Moblit, you’re awesome!” Where you got a hug and kisses poor Moblit got a too enthusiastic slap - more a punch - to the back that he took in stride. He wasn’t her assistant for nothing.

There weren’t any chairs to sit on, so you all just stood around the table while Levi cut the cake into even pieces with terrifying precision. Hange leaned their head against your shoulder, an arm around your waist again, attached as always when you were together. Indulging in comfortable proximity.

You could see the relief on Moblits face when Hange tried to compliment the two of you while still chewing only to get scolded by Levi over their bad manners. Surely Moblit could see your relief as well. Baking wasn’t covered in your basic training after all. But to be fair, the cake was really good and even your grumpy friend seemed to enjoy it, even taking a second piece. That way the four of you managed to only leave crumbs after some time, enjoying the unusual breakfast.

Levi and Moblit had to leave for other duties after that, although the latter would be back soon to help clean up and double-check the inventory. Now alone with Hange, the initial rush having calmed down, you cupped their cheeks, involving them into another soft kiss that they got to reciprocate this time. It left them with a bright smile when you parted that you feel fuzzy. How much you loved them.

“What was the thing you wanted to show me again?”

You finally managed to ask and your question had Hange jump back into action. The two of you made their way across the room and stuff lying around for the third time, Hange pulling you along by the hand, before arriving at the desk where Hange gestured to a collection of sprawled out pages.

“You remember when you brought back those leaves from the giant forest so we could put them under the microscope after I complained about forgetting to get them all the time because I get so focussed on the Titans? So apparently we decided to press and dry and put them under a stack of books in the corner back then and forgot about it. But I just found them now and they look perfect! We need to put them under the microscope again now that they’re dry.”

They barely took a breath during the explanation, now awaiting your reaction.

“We could do that now and I help you with the stocktaking after that. I took the day off today, I have time.”

“Really?” They clapped their hands together in excitement and you couldn’t describe their eyes in any other way than sparkling with joy. Just one of the many things you loved so much about Hange.

“Of course. It’s your birthday after all.”

--------------------

A/N: I'm like an hour late for my time zone, but I of course I had to do something for Hange's birthday! I loved seeing everyone posting about them today (okay, yesterday now), honestly they deserve all the love.

[hotchs-bitch]

I Will

Summary: A year and a half after the New York case, you and Aaron are finally home

Pairing: Hotch x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Emily Prentiss x mentioned oc (aka @leftoverenvy)

Word count: 1k

Warnings: domestic fluff, mentions of alcohol

A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap, folks. Enjoy this little peek into their lives. I can't express how grateful I am for every piece of feedback and support on this series as we discovered that these two had a chokehold on me that simply refused to let go. Love always to my fantastic betas, @munsons-curls and @doctorstethoscope for speed-betaing this so I could get it out asap!

Find it on ao3 here and as always, happy reading <3

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----

And when at last I find you

Your song will fill the air

Sing it loud so I can hear you

Make it easy to be near you

----

“Thanks for coming, guys!” You call out, watching your guests filter out through the door.

Katie and Emily are the last to leave after the rest of the BAU, lingering in the doorway in the way of women who know that the taxi is waiting but still want to chat. “We’ll do it again soon,” Emily says and then she’s gone, her wife dragging her out by the hand.

It’s a good thing, too. You love Emily, but she’s the type to suggest ‘one more glass of red’ and then fall asleep on your couch four hours later. She’s done it before.

Playing hostess is fun, but you’re tired and you’re sure that the rest of your family is, too.

“Say goodnight, buddy,” you hear Aaron call out, his voice floating from the living room. It’s chasing Jack, who runs into your side to give you his version of a bear hug.

“Goodnight, Momma,” he says, and your heart melts a little bit, just like it always does when he calls you that.

You reach to smooth some stray hairs from his forehead- he’s got a cowlick just like his father’s, and it’s made itself known in the last couple of months- and place a kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Jack Attack. Brush your teeth and then say ‘night to Dad, okay?”

“I will!” He pulls back with a large yawn, and you smile in the direction of the bathroom as he walks towards it.

He’s in that independent stage now, the one where he doesn’t want to be told what to do but won’t do it otherwise. You’re dreading the teen years already.

You wait for the sound of running water from the bathroom before heading into the kitchen to clean up what seems to be a hundred dishes, plates and empty wine glasses clustered on the dining table.

The BAU knows how to have a good time, even if it’s just at a dinner party.

Music while cleaning is your friend, so you turn on the kitchen speaker and sway to it, humming under your breath while you flit around and tidy up.

The task is so entrancing that you don’t notice Aaron at first, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen with his arms crossed, his hands around the necks of empty wine bottles. You don’t see the look on his face while he observes you.

You don’t see him blink away what could be tears when he sees this image of you, dancing in the kitchen after a night of friends and drinks and entertainment. It’s an image that haunted him when he first bought the house, and seeing it come to life does something to his chest that feels a lot like coming home.

“Need a hand?” He asks after a minute. It might have been more than a minute; he can’t help being entranced, after all. He’s got everything he needs, and he’s looking right at it.

When you turn around and see him, you give him a grin. “I’ll never say no. Is your son in bed?” You ask, taking the bottles from your fiancés hands.

Before you can set them down, he pulls you in for a quick kiss. “He called me ‘Aaron’ yesterday. He’s your son for now.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you joke, placing the bottles in the recycling bin. “When he aces a math test, he’s your son. The second he disrespects his elders, he’s all mine.”

“Exactly.” Aaron pulls you back in and you let him, warm arms enveloping you against his chest. “I’m glad you understand.”

There’s a retort on the tip of your tongue, but it gives way to a pleased sigh when Aaron’s hand rubs circles on your back. “We should do this more often. It was nice seeing everyone outside of the office,” you murmur, and Aaron makes a noise of agreement that rumbles his chest.

You hear his lips part, his mouth open like he’s about to speak, but then the song that’s playing changes. “Hey, listen.” When you nod towards the speaker, you both fall silent to let the sound of The Beatles wash over you.

Who knows how long I've loved you

You know I love you still

Will I wait a lonely lifetime

If you want me to, I will

When Aaron starts to sing, you melt against him. “For if I ever saw you,” he starts, low and deep in your ear, “I didn't catch your name.”

His arms shift around you, and you follow the movements to sway back and forth with him while you join in with, “But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same.”

Love you forever and forever

Love you with all my heart

Love you whenever we're together

Love you when we're apart

The song fills the air around you, fills a hole in your chest that Aaron has spent a year and a half healing. He takes one of your hands in his and you laugh out loud when he starts to dance with you. 

It’s a Rumba dance that doesn’t fit anything except the speed of the song, and he wraps a hand around yours and guides your two left feet around the kitchen. The sound of the Beatles plays on, and he rubs the pad of his thumb over the diamond ring that glistens under the warm kitchen light.

You’re home.

For the things you do endear you to me

You know I will

I will

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[princepestilence]

NYR: November in review.

Post-November horoscope: “I do not need to be good at the things I love to do them.”

And what a November! We’re properly moved in now, aside from the many boxes left to be unpacked and/or cut down and recycled. Some of what’s been going on:

finished moving in. Sort of! I think it’ll be an ongoing process for probably the next little while, but our home is now super functional and we have a huge comfy new lounge that I am in love with. 

poetry reading! It went well. Very cool established people made a point of complimenting me, which I’m still a bit giddy about. 

thesis! Technically, I finished the chapter draft yesterday, but I feel like it still counts. Now onto the final chapter. 

fifth month milestone at work. Not that anything’s different except that it would be a lot harder for them to fire me now if they wanted to (which they extremely do not). I am very content. Also it was the season launch but whatever. 

ttrpg work. The editing part is yet to come but the starter scenario is finished! I’m very happy with the final product. It’s very much a love-letter to my home and the people I’ve known in this strange, gorgeous part of the world. 

medical appointment. Will find out the results next week and then hopefully be able to start remedying things, which will be nice. Being sore all the time is not really very fun. 

my birthday! I’m very happy and feel very loved. I’ve got big dreams for next year’s birthday festivities and it’s been exciting to share an imporant project with my friends as part of the twelve-month countdown to the thirty milestone. Should actually put that on here as well, now I think about it.

In December, I will:

write thesis chapter four. The fourth and final chapter of the thesis draft! Once it’s done, I’ll be taking a month off to relax and refresh before jumping into the major redraft/rewrite/restructure and edit process in February. 

ttrpg editing. It’s exciting to get to see the final version after hearing about the game for so long. 

novel feedback. I’ve already read it through once, so now it’s time for a close read of the work and some feedback.

last board meeting of the year. The board I’m on convenes this month for the last meeting and a little dinner together, which marks my one year anniversary of becoming a member of the COM. I’m looking forward to more years, and taking on more responsibility once I’ve got the thesis off my plate. 

New Year’s Eve party. We’re thinking it would be nice to do a house-warming + new year welcome here, especially since a lot of friends still haven’t had a chance to visit the new place yet. 

think on new year’s resolutions. It’s almost time to begin the journey again. 

[thejedifairy]

Tech x Reader , Fever

Humming in contentment you shoved another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, savouring the sweet taste and crunchy texture of the small circular blue hoops. It was a quiet morning on the Havoc Marauder, for Wrecker had not yet risen. 

Crosshair sat across from you, sipping on his caf whilst quietly cleaning his rifle. Hunter had already been up, poured himself a mug of caf and excused himself to retreat to his small mediation room. You had no doubt that he had woken with his sensory organs on overload this morning as the ship recycled its systems during the night and you didn’t know how many electrical impulses he picked up on.

No surprise that Tech had not yet presented himself either. He was usually preoccupied, absorbed in something new that had spiked his curiosity or looking over the recordings of the day’s events. Though you didn’t mind the quiet after all it was the calm before the storm. 

You had long since finished your breakfast and was sipping on a cup of tea when Tech did come stumbling in. Both you and Crosshair watched as the youngest clone staggered to the caf machine and poured himself his own mug. 

As he roughly sat down next to you, the hot, almost black liquid sloshed over the edge of the metal mug and splattered on to his skin. He hissed out and grumbled before sucking on his finger to ease the pain. 

“You alright?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows giving him a once over. You didn’t know the last time he looked this rough. Actually now you thought about it you hadn’t seen him at all yesterday and or the afternoon the day before that. 

“Fine” he waved you off, staring at his finger. You settled back into silence, you were surprised that he wasn’t trying to strike up a conversation, usually, he likes to involve you in his latest craze or update you on his progress with his new devices. Not that you didn’t mind. 

Though what did bother you was his breathing, what was usually light and well normal for clone it now was heavier, more laboured. You watched in concern as he rubbed his arms then his hands together as if he was cold despite wearing his blacks. 

“It’s quite cold in here” he commented, but before you had a chance to comment he was up bidding you both a simple “bye” before disappearing. You had to admit it was cooler than normal but not to the point that Tech was clearly feeling it. You gave a slide glance to the sniper who only gave you a half shrug, clearly nothing to worry about. 

It was dinner time when you next saw Tech, it had taken a good deal of banging on his door from Hunter and threats of rearranging his room from Crosshair for him to appear. He barely touched his food, slowly munching on the bits he had decided to eat and then pushing the rest around on his plate. 

You weren’t sure if the others had noticed his odd behaviour. For wrecker held the attention of the rest telling them an outlandish story, that required very large arm movements that happened to collide with Crosshairs face on a few occasion working him up to be a snippy mood.

You finished your meal, standing you had collected the plates of those who had finished and left them on the sink for whoever was on the rota to wash them. Giving Tech another once over you watched as he rubbed his forehead repeatedly, closing his eyes like was in pain. You also had noticed a sheen of sweat began building over the course of dinner. 

You strode over towards the table, sliding his food out of the way so you could perch on the edge. You gently pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. Startled he looked up at you while the others fell silent confused at your sudden behaviour.

“Wh- what are y-” he stuttered before he fell mute as he watched your face contort to one of concern. Mouth drew into a frown, eyes narrowing and brows furrowed as you felt the heat of his skin almost burn your own. 

“You’re burning up!” you exclaimed, moving your hand to touch different parts of his face, feeling the sweat-slick on his skin. 

“I feel cold” he quietly told you. 

You stood up, beckoning him to follow with two fingers “No kidding, you got a fever! You. bed. now, no buts, no nothing, bed” your authoritative voice left no room for argument. Your mother mode activated. Instead, he turned to face Hunter, who had removed his gloves to feel for himself “she not wrong Tech you feel really hot” with his agreement on the matter knowing that he wasn’t winning against you and Hunter teaming up. He simply rose from his spot and followed you.

You cleared his bed of his numerous holopads that were scattered about. Piling them on his desk that was adjacent to his bed, you pulled back his thin sheet and patted his mattress. He reluctantly climbed into bed. 

“Now you sir” you stood hands on your hips ” “Are to rest, no holopad, no work, no anything that is making that beautiful brain of yours work. How much water you drank today?” you questioned. 

Hunter appeared in the doorway, a canister of water in one hand and painkillers in the other. He handed them to you which in turn you gave to Tech “You have a headache don’t you? This also might help with breaking the fever” he simply nodded and took the medication with a swig of water, his face red you were unsure if it was from the fever or because any complement of any kind often turned him red. 

“I want that bottle finished before you sleep, I’ll be back in a bit to check on you and to refill your water. Sleep if you can, if you can’t take a shower since I have full belief you did not have one yesterday, the cooler the better. You might feel cold but your brain is trying to cook you. If you still feel feverish let me know I can run a cold cloth for you” he opened his mouth to speak but halted as if he decided he wasn’t going to fight you about it. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t eat dinner, I-” you placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a light squeeze in reassurance. Pulling up the sheet up and over him you tucked him in bed which if this was another time you would have found amusing but now you were just determined to tuck him so tight that he couldn’t reach for his holopad and work despite your words. 

You watched him settle before speaking “If you still hungry now or later I can make something for you? Fruit salad? You often enjoy that” you offered, sitting on the edge of the bed. You hadn’t realised how exhausted he looked the bags under his eyes were more prominent now that he had surrendered himself to rest. 

He slipped his goggles off and placed them on his desk before turning to face you “But I ate all my fruit the rest are yours” he began to sit up but before he could argue any further you gently pushed him back down. “I can live without fruit until our next restock point. Besides when you ill you should get to eat things you enjoy, that way you can get your strength up” 

“You would do that?” he asked surprised before turning sheepish “Then may I have a little now?”

You gave a light chuckle before you stroking his head. “Anything for you” you slapped your knees “right then, I’ll back” you rose, Hunter gave you a smile and nod of appreciation before he followed you out the room, only stopping to turn off the lights and shut the door. 

“Do you think he will be okay?” you spared a glance from chopping the meiloorun to look at Wrecker. The large man was wringing his hands together, worry clear across his face as he looked for confirmation. 

You gave him a smile “He will live to tell the tale Wrecker, don’t worry about it” you reassured him, watching him relax at your words. 

“What do you think caused it?” you often get startled when the Crosshair speaks up as you often forget he’s there, usually standing out of your sight.

You let out a snort “We haven’t seen him for a day and a half, I never saw him appear for food or water during that time and I have a hard time believing he slept at all” twisting in your seat to give the sniper a knowing look as he just gave an agreeable nod.

“Plus he has been doing this more than usual. We know how much he gets absorbed into his work. We should be more vigilant especially between missions making sure he is at least getting two meals down him and water, if we get a mission now we won’t be able to take it and I do not want to be in that position” you turned to look at long-haired clone as he spoke from his position against the wall. His arms crossed against his chest as an expression unreadable. 

You scraped the fruit off the chopping board and into the bowl, “Well then, how much you wanna bet he’s on a holopad now and it will be under his pillow when we go back in” you wagered, handing Hunter the bowl of fruit whilst you picked up the bowl of cold water and tossing the cloth over the crook of your arm. 

“Okay you’re on” he gestured with his arm for you to lead the way.

The door hissed open revealing Tech to be on his side facing towards the wall. At your approach, he quickly twisted to face you, a smile growing wider on his face at the sight of his food. 

You handed him the tin bowl and took a seat once again on the edge of his bed. As he became preoccupied with slowly munching on his fruit, you leaned over him, sliding your hand under his pillow and gave an eye roll when your fingertips met against the cool surface of the holopad. You held it up for Hunter to see who just let out a sigh. 

“Techhhh” hunter began. 

The young clone began to stutter out a defensive “that- that- its a book, light reading as you would say!” he defended himself trying to reach for the pad as you held it away out of reach. 

Clicking the screen, you chuckled at the title “Navigation of systems without the use of hyperdrives” you sent him with a mocking accusatory stare “Yes quite the leisure read indeed” you murmured. 

“You have been staring at screens for hours Tech, get some sleep” Hunter ordered before taking the holopad from your hand, turning he gathered up the remaining ones that sat on the desk and walked out the room. 

“Sorry sweet, but he’s right. You need to start taking better care of yourself, your brain may hunger for knowledge but your body actually hungers and requires sleep” placing your arm over his legs you leaned back turning to face him. 

He offered you a piece of fruit which you happily took savouring the sweetness and juice that assaulted your tongue. “Why are you doing this,” he asked timidly, his head was facing down but his eyes flickering up as if he was too nervous to hold your gaze. 

“Doing what?” you asked, rolling your head to the side to look at him. 

“All of this? I mean you under no obligation to do any of this, you are just our pilot. We were created to have stronger immune systems to fall ill is basically failure what use is a clone that is sick, being mutated had us close to being … terminated so -” he swallowed audibly.

You turned and shuffled up the bed so that you sat side by side. "Simple, you boys are family. Not much else to it, you have my back and I have yours, though albeit I may not be able to aid in combat as you do but don't mean I can't do other things. If I got sick I have no doubt you guys would take care of me right?" You gave a small smile at him when he nodded his head. 

"Natually" Hunter murmured from the doorway.

 You dipped the towel in the cold water waiting till it had absorbed enough before wringing the excess water out. 

Folding it into a rectangle you placed it on his forehead. "May not be what you think you need but it do you good" 

You rose from the bed, "now get some rest" you bent down to kiss his forehead before bidding him goodnight and making your way out to where Hunter stood.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe and some rather tatty blue slippers, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the weekend!

Next Friday is Black Friday. Guess how much I’ll be spending? Go on, take a guess! That’s right: fuck all. I don’t need anything. My house is overflowing with books I haven’t read, CDs I haven’t listened to, clothes I haven’t worn. And, if the truth be told, you don’t need anything either! I think those companies had enough of our money during lockdown. Amazon boss Jeff Bezos made $34 billion in the first six months of 2021. If you really (really) need to spend money next Friday, shop local and buy fresh, purchase something from a sole trader on Etsy, or purchase directly from someone’s website or Bandcamp. In truth, though, you probably don’t need anything. In 12 months, you’ll probably go through your wardrobes and drawers, fill black plastic sacks and take them to the local recycling plant! This madness has to stop!

I’m very pleased to say I went for a walk yesterday. First walk in seven weeks! It wasn’t sunny but it wasn’t cold, so I was quite happy walking my familiar route, round and round Roundwood Park. The work schedule has been pretty unforgiving since term began, so I was glad to get some fresh air and stretch my legs. I used the opportunity to catch up with some friends. Haven’t even had time for phone calls!

This weekend, we go to Hove to see Lady Wesker. She would quite happily cook for us but I thought I’d buy her dinner on Saturday night. There’s this gastro-pub that she likes nearby, so it will make a nice change. We can only stay one night, as we have far too much work to do in London. The Trouble came home from work yesterday and, like many of you, ate her dinner and fell straight to sleep in front of the TV. Hove is our weekend treat. Mum will tell us outrageous stories, as usual. 85-year-old women have no filter. Yes, I know we need a holiday, but that can’t happen just yet. To be honest, getting into my bed at night is all the holiday I need right now.

Look forward to the pleasure of your company tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’ (The Letter D Pt. 4.) Tomorrow’s Executive Producer is Sharon Stubbs from Lexington in Kentucky. Trinidad’s Finest, Avril Marie Ashby Thurston did a great job last week and Sharon has truly stepped up to the plate.

If you’re looking for something new to read, check out the things I’ve written (via Amazon.) Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, I can love!

[robinrunsfiction]

Baby, You’re A Haunted House

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader Rating: General (TW for blood, mentions of a suicide) Requested By: None Word Count: 6,330 Author’s Note: Here is my first story for spooky season! I had hoped to have it up sooner, but life has been busy. This story has been in my mind since this spring. I intend on writing a little bit about the location it’s set in because it’s real! It really is a seminary that was converted into apartments in my hometown. I’ll link to the post here when it’s written. And yes, that is a picture of it below!  Also!!! There is a reference to another one of my favorite bands and one of their albums, first person who can correctly point it out wins... a prize? My admiration? Not sure yet, but shout it out if you know it!

It all seemed too good to be true.

(YN)’s roommate had let her know that she was going to be moving out of town for a new job and the thought of looking for a new apartment or roommate was overwhelming. She was dreading the process, but the next day while eating her lunch at work, she spotted an ad in the paper for Holy Name Heights. The description stated the apartments were newly renovated and located in a historic building on the edge of town, so she called right away to set up a tour.

Later that week she was touring the building that had previously been a seminary for many years. The diocese had sold the second and third floors of the sprawling building to a developer who converted the rooms into apartments, while leaving the first floor as office spaces for the diocese, a Catholic charity organization, and a small museum about the history of the church’s presence in the area.

“This place is beautiful,” (YN) marveled at the space. While being only one bedroom, it was spacious, had a washer and dryer so she wouldn't need to haul her laundry anywhere, assigned parking, not to mention a beautiful view, but a question nagged at the back of her mind. “How much is it per month?”

“$850 per month including utilities,” the agent replied with a smile.

“Oh! Ok, yes, I’d love to apply!”

A few weeks later as (YN) was moving her things into her brand new third floor apartment, she realized how quiet the building was. She paused briefly at each door as she walked by, straining to hear if anyone else was there. As she arrived at her own door with another armload of boxes, the door next to hers opened and a dark haired man stepped out. She shot him a quick smile as she fumbled for her keys. 

“Do you need some help?” He asked.

“That’d be great,” she laughed and he took the box from her so she could get her keys straightened out. “I’m (YN).”

“Gerard,” he replied as she got the door open and took the box back from him.

“Have you lived here long?”

“Just moved in last weekend. I’m glad I’m not the only one up here anymore.”

“Wait, seriously? None of these other apartments are occupied?”

“I don’t think so, I haven’t seen many people around. I guess an old seminary might be kind of a hard sell.”

“Yea, I’m not sure I would have considered it either if I wasn’t in a bind. Thanks for the help with the box,” (YN) smiled as she shifted it in her arms.

“No problem, I’ll see ya around,” he smiled before continuing down the hall.

“See ya,” she called after him. (YN) closed the door behind her and shook her head. Cool apartment, good price, cute neighbor. It all seemed too good to be true.

~

The next day (YN) got up, made a pot of coffee and set about unloading the box that held her mug collection. The fact that she didn’t have to share cupboards with a roommate delighted her, as she didn’t have to worry about any of her favorites getting damaged. She put on some music and made her way over to the living room window as the smell of brewing coffee filled the room. 

Her view was of the front of the building. Trees with bare branches lined the hillside that the building sat upon and a long driveway led up to the front of the building. She loved knowing that the leaves would soon be filling those branches, and then in the fall they’d turn beautiful shades of gold, red and orange. She also liked the idea of being able to see who was coming and going up the driveway. 

After enjoying her coffee, she got back to work unpacking her apartment. The hours flew by as the pile of broken down cardboard boxes piled up near her door. As she wiped her sweaty brow, she realized she had no idea what to do with the boxes and trash that had accumulated. Had the agent even shown her where the dumpsters were? Then she had an idea. Gerard.

Should she bother him? She didn’t even know for sure if he was in. She took a deep breath as she approached his door and knocked. She wondered how long she should wait if he wasn’t there, or didn’t want to answer. She’d never interacted much with the neighbors at her old apartment building, so maybe she was being totally obnoxious. (YN) was so deep in her own thoughts that she almost didn’t notice that the door was opening.

“Hey (YN), what’s up?”

“Hi, umm this is probably super dumb, but I don’t know where the recycling bins and dumpsters are. The agent never pointed them out, and I didn’t think to ask until I realized I was knee deep in broken down boxes,” she laughed nervously.

“I can help you carry boxes down,” Gerard offered with a smile.

“You don’t have to do that,” (YN) could feel herself blushing.

“It’s no problem.”

“I mean, if you insist!” (YN) laughed and he followed her back to her door. They each took an armload of boxes and Gerard led the way to the staircase that was at the end of the hallway next to his apartment. (YN) glanced over her shoulder at the dark portion of the staircase that led up to a door, most likely the attic. She quirked an eyebrow in curiosity but continued after Gerard.

“So what do you do?” (YN) asked, breaking the silence that hung between them as they headed down the stairs.

“I’m a comic book writer,” he replied almost sheepishly.

“Oh wow, that’s really cool,” (YN) replied genuinely and Gerard lit up.

“Thanks! A lot of people think it’s kinda lame, but it’s just a different type of writing, ya know?” (YN) nodded in agreement. “What do you do?”

“Boring office work,” she said shaking her head. “I wish I had time to do creative stuff like write or draw.”

“You should try, even if it’s just a little bit at a time,” he said as he opened the door leading out into the bright sunshine. “The dumpsters are back here.”

“Thanks,” (YN) smiled as she dropped her share into the recycling bin. "And maybe I'll try to find some time to write, if inspiration strikes."

"You'd be surprised how ideas can pop up when you least expect them," Gerard replied as they made their way back to their floor.

~

Winter started to melt into spring, and (YN) had settled into the routine of her new apartment life. Or at least she thought she was. 

It quickly became clear that she must have been a lot more absentminded than she realized, and her old roommate must have been picking up her slack. She could have sworn she had more milk left when she put the carton back in the fridge, but when she grabbed it the next morning for her cereal there was almost none left. And then there were all the things that just seemed to disappear for no reason that never reappeared, no matter how hard she looked.

One thing that didn’t seem to disappear was her crush on her neighbor Gerard. Interacting with him also became part of her routine, as it always seemed they were running into each other walking into the building or by the mailboxes.

It just happened that it was one of those lucky days, as (YN) had just walked in with her bags from grocery shopping when Gerard walked by. 

“Hey (YN),” he smiled. 

“Gerard,” (YN) started, trying to stifle a laugh. “ I’m not trying to be mean, but do you know how to cook? I feel like I’ve only ever seen you with take out, but never groceries,” she said nodding to her own bags.

“I know how to cook! I am a functional adult,” he replied with feigned offense.

“If you say so, enjoy your dinner,” (YN) replied as she entered her apartment.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he called just as she was about to shut the door.

She poked her head out the door, eyebrows raised. “Oh really?”

“Tomorrow night? 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll be there,” she replied with a smile. When the door was shut behind her, she couldn’t help but let out a squeal of delight.

The next evening (YN) was digging through her drawers looking for the sweater she wanted to wear to dinner with Gerard, but she absolutely could not find it. 

“This is crazy, I know I saw it when I was putting away laundry,” she muttered to herself. She got up and went over to the closet housing the washer and dryer, in hopes it had just fallen between the machines, or maybe was still in the dryer. She looked all around but found nothing, and trudged back to her room.

‘Wait, I didn’t turn the light off,’ she said, flipping the switch back on with a shake of her head. “I need to get more sleep.”

Giving up the search, she threw on a different top and checked the time. It was a few minutes past 7 and she hurried out the door.

“Welcome to my humble home,” Gerard said with a smile as he let (YN) in.

“Hmm, seems familiar,” (YN) giggled. “Oh dinner smells great!”

“Thank you,” Gerard smiled proudly. “We’ll be having spaghetti and meatballs. Umm, I don’t drink, so I have soda or water,” Gerard offered.

“Water is fine,” (YN) replied as she sat down at the table. “How’d you day go?”

“Good, I think I have a new story I wanna work on,” he answered as he placed plates on the table and sat down himself. “How about you.”

“Pretty boring actually. I’ll have to admit, knowing that we’re gonna be having dinner got me through my day.”

Gerard smiled and (YN) could have sworn she saw a blush creeping across his cheeks as he glanced down. "I'm glad I could help."

Conversation lulled as they dug into their meals, and The Smashing Pumpkins played softly in the background.

"Ok, I have to apologize for that dig yesterday about you not cooking, this is very good,” (YN) smiled.

"I have to admit, I bought the sauce, and the meatballs were frozen," Gerard winced.

“That’s fine! I do the same,” she laughed and Gerard looked relieved.

(YN) was having a wonderful time hanging out with Gerard and she felt like she could listen to him talk forever. He spoke with such passion and enthusiasm, it drew her in and she hung on his words. They laughed and joked and the time flew by until (YN) found herself stifling a yawn and she glanced down at her watch.

"Oh, it's late! I should get outta your hair."

“Well m’lady,” he said, affecting the same posh accent they had been joking around in earlier and bowing before her, “I do hope this evening has lived up to all your expectations.”

“It most certainly has,” she said with a laugh as she curtseyed holding out an imaginary skirt. 

Gerard reached out and took her hand in his and placed a kiss to the back of it, catching her off guard as he looked up at her from behind his lashes. "I hope we can do it again sometime soon."

(YN) nodded. "Yea," she said almost breathlessly. "I'd love that."

Gerard walked her to the door and when she glanced back at him when she reached her own door, he was leaning against his door frame.

"Night," she waved before walking into her apartment and he smiled and waved back.

(YN) could hardly sleep that night, as she was absolutely buzzing.

~

Weekly dinners soon became a tradition between (YN) and Gerard, with both of them taking turns hosting the other. (YN) knew she was terrible at both flirting and picking up when others were flirting with her, but she couldn't help but feel like Gerard might just like her too.There was something about the way his friendly hugs and touches started to linger longer and longer.

One night when they had been hanging out Gerard had casually mentioned going to hang out with his brother on his birthday, so (YN) took it upon herself to bring him his present before he left that day. As she stood at his door, she felt just as nervous as the first time she was at his door asking for help with her boxes. Once again she was totally lost in thought when Gerard opened the door.

"Hey (YN)!" He greeted her.

"Hi! Happy birthday!" She smiled, holding out the plate of chocolate chip cookies and the card she picked out just for him. 

"You remembered my birthday?" He asked, his eyes going wide and pink dusting his cheeks.

"Of course I did!" She laughed. “How could I forget?” She added a little more softly.

The smile grew on Gerard’s face and (YN)’s heart fluttered. “Thanks,” he finally replied, shaking his head. “Hey (YN), I was wondering, if umm, you’d like to maybe like go out on a date, like a real date some time? Don’t feel like you have to say yes just because it’s my birthday.”

(YN) laughed again, and she could feel herself blushing. “Yea, that would be really nice,” she nodded. “And I definitely would have said yes, even if it wasn’t your birthday.”

“Great!” Gerard grinned, but the buzzing of his phone grabbed his attention. "Oh, Mikey's here."

"Have fun with him," (YN) smiled and waved as she turned to go while Gerard grabbed his jacket and keys.

"Wait," Gerard said as he locked the door and jogged over to her, just as she was reaching her door. She looked up at him expectantly and he seemed nervous again before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thanks again for the card."

"No problem," (YN) smiled before ducking into her own apartment to swoon.

~

A few days later, it was finally the day of their first date. Gerard suggested they go to the art museum and grab coffee. Even though they hung out all the time, the fact that this was actually a date made things ever so slightly awkward. As they walked into the museum, their hands brushed a few times before Gerard took her hand in his. She glanced over and smiled up at him and he seemed relieved. They chatted and joked happily as they walked through the exhibits before they went down the street to the cafe.

Finding a table tucked away from the others, they settled in with their coffees. The sun that had been shining when they walked in was soon covered in dark heavy clouds, and big heavy raindrops began to beat at the windows. Something about it made a shiver run down (YN)'s spine, a feeling she’d almost grown accustomed to.

"Gerard, can I ask you something kinda weird?" She asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

"Sure," he nodded.

(YN) sighed and looked down. "This is gonna sound crazy, and maybe I'm going crazy, but sometimes things get moved in my apartment, or I feel like someone or something is watching me. I've checked every inch of it and there's nothing there, but I dunno. Have you ever felt that in your apartment?" She finally looked up and was startled by Gerard's expression.

"Yea," he said softly, a look of unease on his face. "I totally know what you mean. I notice it when I’m at your place mostly, but sometimes when you come around," he trailed off.

"But, I mean, ghosts and stuff aren’t real though, right? Like It’s probably just the vibe of it being an old building.”

“Yea,” Gerard nodded with a tight smile. “Ghosts aren’t real, vampires aren’t gonna hurt you, zombies aren’t gonna eat your brain while you’re at the mall.”

“Right! You are right. I’m sure it will pass.”

After the rain stopped, they headed back to their building and headed up to the third floor, stopping in front of her door.

“I had a lot of fun today,” (YN) smiled.

“Me too,” Gerard nodded. “I, I really like you (YN). I hope we can do this again.”

(YN) grinned and nodded. “I really like you too Gee, and yes I’d really love to go out again as well.”

Gerard’s face lit up, any nervousness alleviated. He reached up, cupping her cheek gently, as her eyelids fluttered closed. He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers softly, before pulling back just as quick.

“I can’t wait to do that again,” Gerard whispered.

“Then do it again,” she replied.

Gerard didn’t hesitate for a second longer, leaning back in and kissing her deeply as she kissed back. His hand found her waist as she clutched his jacket. When they finally pulled back, they were both breathless and smiling.

(YN) knew that it was the start of something special.

~

Summer arrived with warm weather and abundant sunshine, but that didn’t stop the cold drafts that would breeze through (YN)’s apartment, even when the air conditioning was off. But then the noises started. Thumps and knocks in the middle of the night, jolting her awake. Once she was convinced someone was hammering frantically on her door. In the middle of the night. She jumped out of bed and rushed to the door, checking through the peephole to see who was there. But there was no one. 

The solution that seemed to be working best was spending as much time away from the apartment, specifically out with Gerard. From picnics in the park, to going to movies, cafes, wandering around book stores or comic book shops for hours, (YN) loved every moment of it.

One evening they were watching a movie in her apartment, happily curled up on the couch together when the thumps in the wall began behind them.

“What was that?” Gerard asked, startled.

(YN) sighed. “No idea. It’s been like this for a while now. I called the maintenance guy, but he doesn't think anything is in the walls. It’s why I’ve been so tired lately, I haven’t been sleeping, like at all.”

“Do you wanna come stay over at my place tonight? Maybe you’ll sleep better,” he offered.

(YN) smiled back at him. “Ok sure,” she nodded. When the movie was over, she changed into pajamas and they made their way back over to his apartment for the night. The next morning when she woke up, she stretched and sighed happily as Gerard held her close.

“Sleep well?” Gerard asked sleepily.

“Mmhmm,” she replied, looking up at him. She reached up and brushed away the hair that was falling across his face. “Best I have in a long time.”

“You’re welcome here anytime you want, sugar,” he said leaning in and kissing her sweetly.

"I worry that I'll overstay my welcome if I’m over here that often," (YN) laughed.

"Not possible, sugar," he said with a smile. "I love getting to spend my nights with you. Days too. I guess what I’m trying to say is I love you, (YN)."

“I love you too Gerard,” she replied before leaning in and kissing him deeply.

~

September arrived and Gerard was going to be gone for the weekend with a few of his friends on a guy’s trip for his brother Mikey’s birthday. (YN) was a little nervous at first about being alone at night, to the point where she was considering going to visit her parents for the weekend. Surprisingly, she was able to sleep through the night without any noises or strange occurrences waking her up.

The next morning she got up and went to retrieve a mug from the cupboard for her morning coffee. Without warning, a glass flew down from the top shelf, smashing into her forehead. (YN) yelped in surprise and stumbled back, glass shards littering the floor. Tentatively she reached up and touched just above her brow and when she pulled back, her fingers were covered in blood.

"Shiiiiit," she groaned as she carefully stepped over the broken glass on the floor and made her way to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, she felt nauseous at the sight. Blood dripping from the gash landed and streaked down her cheek like tears, accenting the dark circles under her eyes that she just couldn't shake after so many nights of interrupted sleep. She looked like death.

"Gee must really love me if this is what he's looking at every day," she muttered as she dabbed away at the blood with a washcloth.

A few hours later while walking out the emergency department with a fresh set of stitches, she decided she may as well fill in Gerard.

Happy friday! guess where i just left!

From Gerard 💖: Work let you take a half day?

Hospital 😬 

She dropped her phone back into her purse as she made her way across the parking lot, but by the time she got the door unlocked, Gerard was calling her.

"What happened?!" He asked frantically as soon as she picked up.

(YN) sighed. "A glass fell out of my cupboard and I got a cut above my eyebrow. Just a couple stitches and I wanted to make sure they got all the glass out," she replied, downplaying the accident. She knew he'd be back in a few days and he'd know she wasn't telling the whole truth about the cut, but she didn't want him to worry or end his trip early.

"But you're ok? Do you want me to come back?"

"Yes, I'm ok. But no, don't cut your trip short, I'm gonna go straight over to my parents for the rest of the weekendI think. It's one thing when we're losing sleep with weird noises, it's another to be attacked like this."

"You… you think," he sighed, seeming to be choosing his words carefully. "That a ghost did it?" Gerard asked in a hushed tone.

"If the glass was off balance and simply fell out of the cupboard it would have gone straight down. This was thrown at me, Gee. There was force behind it."

"Fuck," Gerard muttered. "I'm sorry sugar."

"Don't worry, I'm ok, I promise."

~

(YN) was grateful that Gerard believed what she told him about the haunting of her apartment. He could have easily dismissed her or her fears as crazy and ghost her, but he didn't. He was just as concerned about the situation and her wellbeing. After that weekend they began talking about moving out as soon as their leases were up. 

It had been a couple weeks when Gerard had a meeting in the city that was going to run late into the evening, so (YN) was stuck spending the night alone in her own apartment for the first time since the attack.

As she got in bed, she wondered how long it would be before she would be woken up at night. The noises always managed to cut right through her slumber to wake her, no matter how exhausted she was when she fell asleep. And exhausted she was as her eyelids were heavy as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She wasn't sure what time it was when the noise woke her up, but she sat up in bed and looked at the ceiling. It sounded like skittering, and she wondered if it might be something as innocent as an animal stuck in the attic. 'Wouldn't it be something if it was some animal all along,' she thought as she laid back down and closed her eyes again.

What felt like only moments later she opened them again, but she was not in her room. She wasn’t even in her apartment.

“Gerard?”

He looked up from where he was sitting on the floor in front of his couch with a look of concern and fear on his face unlike any she had seen before. “(YN), are you ok?”

“No, I’m- why am I in your apartment?”

“I was asleep and some noise up in the attic woke me up, but before I could fall back asleep there was this loud bang and I went up to check what was going on because it sounded different from anything before, and you were up there on the floor like you fainted. You didn't even stir until just now when you woke up.”

(YN) shook her head. “I heard the noise too, but I went back to sleep, I didn’t even get out of bed, I went right back to sleep until I just woke up here. What could have made me faint if I wasn't even awake and can’t remember what I saw?”

Gerard ran his hand through his hair, considering her question and when he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “I… I dunno (YN). After I brought you down from the attic, I went back to your apartment so I could put you in your own bed and your door was locked.”

“But that’s not possible unless I took my keys and locked it behind me. Should we go up and look for them upstairs?”

“No!” Gerard said quickly. “I mean, I don’t want to make you stay here if you don’t want, we can call the maintenance line to let you in, but I don’t wanna go up there again. Tonight, I mean.”

(YN) climbed off the couch and sat next to him on the floor. “I’ll stay here, you know that's fine but,” she paused, taking a deep breath. “What did you see up there Gee?”

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “We can talk about it in the morning? It’s late.”

(YN) swallowed hard and nodded. "Yea, that's a good idea."

Gerard got up, offered her a hand, helping her up. He placed a kiss to the back of her hand before leading the way to his room.

(YN) always felt safe with Gerard's arms wrapped around her holding her tight, but it was still a very poor night of sleep for both of them. The next morning (YN) and Gerard were sitting in his living room, sipping coffee in silence before (YN)'s curiosity got the best of her.

"Can you tell me what you saw up there now?" (YN) asked suddenly. 

Gerard looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes matching hers. He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Do you really wanna know?"

(YN) nodded. "I wanna understand what happened last night. Well as much of it as I can."

Gerard drew a deep breath. "Ok. I went up there when I heard the second bang. I was kinda surprised the door was open. And then I was shining my flashlight around and," he drew in a breath and shook his head. "I thought I saw someone at the far end of the attic, but my flashlight went through him. I started to panic and that's when I realized you were on the floor. I grabbed you and carried you back down here and, well you know the rest."

"You saw the ghost?" (YN) asked, her voice cracking with fear.

Gerard nodded solemnly. "I think so."

~

Gerard's words kept ringing through (YN)'s mind. There was no denying it now, she was being haunted by a ghost. She was, generally speaking, freaked out about the whole situation, but also a little curious. That's when she remembered the museum on the first floor.

The space was small, no larger than an office. Shelves were filled with books and bibles, and old black and white photos lined the walls, but one picture stood out as different from the rest. An elderly woman stood before it, gazing up at the portrait of the young man.

"Excuse me, do you know any of the history of this building?"

The elderly woman tore her eyes off the photo and looked back at (YN). "Well, I should say I do. What can I help you with?"

"I don't know how to ask this delicately, but, umm, is there any reason to believe that it might be haunted?"

The elderly woman nodded slowly. "Well, yes, I suppose there would be," she replied before glancing back at the portrait. "This was my brother, Joshua. He was in the seminary and was going to become a priest when he met her."

"Her?"

"Elenora. She was beautiful," she paused, studying (YN) for a moment, "actually you remind me of her. But he was so conflicted, he wanted to be a priest, but he was so enchanted by her. He convinced himself, and her, that the only way they could be together was in death."

"Oh no," (YN) gasped.

She nodded. "They were to jump together from the roof. He went first, she never went."

"I'm so sorry," she replied softly.

"It was 60 years ago. I had known Elenora my whole life, so I blamed myself for introducing her into his life, but I didn't blame her! I still don't. I don't admit this to many people, but we're still friends."

"You have a very forgiving heart," (YN) smiled. "Thank you for telling me all that."

She nodded. "That is what I am here for," she replied as she walked around to a small desk and picked up a dust rag before turning back to one of the shelves.

(YN) made her way back to her apartment and shut the door. "Joshua, if that's you, please leave me alone," she said. 

Nothing happened and (YN) shrugged.

~

The cool fall weather settled in and October was filled with the warm glow of red, yellow, and orange leaves on the trees outside, but by Halloween, the branches were blown bare, leaving dark, imposing branches reaching toward the sky.

Gerard's friend Frank invited them to his house for a Halloween party, and to celebrate his birthday.

A night out, dressed as Bonnie and Clyde, was exactly what they both needed after all the time they spent living in a real life haunted house for almost a year now. (YN) also loved spending time with Gerard's friends. They quickly made her feel welcome and made her future with Gerard seem even better.

It wasn't too terribly late when they decided to call it a night and headed home. "I'm gonna go change and I'll be over," (YN) said before heading into her apartment. Gerard nodded and headed to his own door.

She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket over the back of the chair when she felt a cold rush of air blow past her. She closed her eyes as a shiver ran through her whole body. When she opened them, again the cold air was surrounding her, wind blowing her skirt around as a freezing rain started to pelt her arms and face. Frantically she looked around, realizing she was on a rooftop. Before she could get her bearings, phantom hands were on her, pushing and pulling her toward the edge.

"No! No! Get off of me! Let go!" She screamed, flailing her arms, trying to shake off the attack. She seemed to break free and started to run toward the hatch to the attic.

The hands grabbed her ankle and sent her tumbling to the rough surface of the roof. When she looked over her shoulder, a figure made of a shadowy mist was pulling her by the leg toward the edge.

"No! Stop it! No!" She screamed again, her hands scratching at the roof, trying to make purchase.

From behind her she heard a bang. She looked up and saw Gerard at the opening to the attic. "(YN)!"

"Gee! Help!"

"Let her go!" Gerard commanded as he ran to (YN), pulling her off the ground and wrapping her in his arms protectively. She buried her face against his shoulder as she clutched his shirt. "Are you ok? I got you sugar, you’re safe now."

"No, no I'm not ok," she sobbed.

"Come on, let's get inside."

Gerard helped her down the ladder and carried her down the stairs to his apartment. He set her down in the bathroom and set to work cleaning the cuts across her hands, legs, and feet.

"Gee, I don't wanna stay here tonight, I can’t stay here anymore, I have to move or I’m gonna end up dead!" (YN) cried as Gerard wiped the blood away from her palm.

"I know sugar, I'll get you cleaned up and we'll go find a hotel room tonight, ok?" (YN) sniffled and nodded in agreement. “And then in the morning we’re gonna find a new place to live, you and me.”

(YN) had been watching as he worked, but hearing him say that she looked up at him. “Together? Even after all this? What if it follows me?!"

He reached up and wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheek. “Together. Nothing's gonna come between us, not even a ghost."

A smile finally broke across her face as he placed bandages on the worst cuts. Then she finally changed out of her soaked and bloodied Halloween costume and into a pair of Gerard's sweatpants and an old hoodie. She didn't have shoes, but she didn't care. She wasn't going back into her apartment until the day she was going back to pack it up and move out. And even then, she was considering hiring someone to do it for her.

"Ready to go?" He asked when she walked out of his room.

"Let’s get away from here," she nodded and he took her hand. They hurried through the cold rain to his car and she sighed as she sunk into the passenger seat. She finally felt free.

Gerard started down the long tree-lined drive when suddenly a large tree limb came crashing down in front of them. (YN) screamed as Gerard slammed on the breaks.

"Shit! Are you ok?" He asked breathlessly.

"Look!" She whimpered, pointing a shaking finger out the window. Gerard looked as well at the ghastly figure on the other side of the branch. Gerard put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Gee, what are you doing? Gee? Gerard! Stop it, get back in here!" She cried frantically as he got out of the car. Not knowing what else to do, she scrambled out as well.

"Give her to me!" The phantom wailed, striking cold terror through her. "I gave my life for my love, she belongs to me!"

"This is not your love!" Gerard shouted back.

She moved to stand next to Gerard, interlacing her fingers with his. "I'm not Elenora! I've never done you wrong!" She pleaded. "Gerard is my true love! Let us pass!"

The phantom's face contorted, snarling, teeth growing long, fingers becoming claw-like. (YN) screamed in fright as Gerard stepped in front of her. As the ghost launched at them, headlights came up the drive, shining bright in their eyes, and the phantom faded into nothing.

The other car stopped and the driver got out. "Need help moving that branch outta the way? Woah, you two look like you've seen a ghost," the man laughed.

Gerard shook his head and looked back at (YN) sympathetically. "Well, it is Halloween."

~

A few months later (YN) and Gerard had settled into their new place. There was nothing in the new place that (YN) would describe as too good to be true. Their commutes were longer, they had to go to the laundromat to do laundry, and they were paying more in rent, but they were together and they finally had peace. And that was worth every penny.

“Hey Gee,” (YN) said as she padded into the living room one Saturday afternoon, holding something behind her back.

“Yea sugar?”

“So I’ve been working on something. I’m not sure it’s any good, but I think it’s finally ready for you to look at.”

Gerard sat up and looked up at her curiously. “What is it?” (YN) handed him a binder. “The Haunting on Holy Name Hill."

“A long time ago, back when we first met, you said I should try writing or drawing if I’m interested in it because you never know when inspiration will strike, and since moving out of that awful place I’ve been trying to wrap my head around everything that happened. So I started writing about it," she shrugged. "I fictionalized some of the events and changed our names, but can you read it and tell me if it’s any good?”

“(YN) I’m so proud of you,” he said with a smile as he got up and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna read it right now.”

“If you insist. I’m gonna go to the laundromat.”

A while later when (YN) came back, Gerard wasn’t on the couch where she’d left him. “Hey Gee, did you finish reading it yet?”

“Yep,” she heard him reply as he came back from the second bedroom they’d set up as his office. “And I have something to show you too.”

“What’s that?”

“First of all, wow, the story is so well written!” he grinned.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, you’re a natural! And second, look,” he said handing her a stack of drawings.

“What are these?”

“I was thinking, if you want, we could pitch your story as a graphic novel and these are some drawings I did when I was reading it. This is your character, this one is me.”

“Gee, these are amazing! And you really think that it’s publishable?”

“I really do,” he nodded.

“Ok yea, let’s do it. Other than being the place where we met, there should be some kind of good that comes from that awful place. And maybe serve as a warning to everyone else about things that seem too good to be true."

[merryfortune]

Alexithymia

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Ship: Ryoken/Spectre

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,799

Tags: Canon Compliant, Knights of Hanoi as Found Family, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Abandonment Issues, Attachment Disorders, Selective Mutism

Synopsis:  Ryoken becomes worried for Spectre when his behaviour deviates, and even regresses, after the defeat of Bohman.

  Ryoken was relieved to log out from the Link VRAINS after Playmaker had won against Bohman. He had been relieved to simply have been revived, standing in the plaza with Spectre by his side, smiling as people’s very souls were restored to them after being taken for the Neuron Link but being able to breathe air – even heavily recycled, air conditioned air – of the office filled him with relief and gratitude.

  Ryoken got up from his seat and Spectre finally opened his eyes. Ryoken wanted to pounce on him with a hug as soon as he did that, but Spectre was fussy, always had been and Ryoken thought he always would be. So, he gave Spectre a moment and then he looked towards Ryoken. There was an indescribable emotion on the blue surface of his iris; his lips twitched.

  “We did it.” Ryoken said. “We lived. The vast majority of the Ignis have perished; the Light Ignis’s faction is a threat no more. We did it.”

  “Yes, congratulations.” Spectre’s voice sounded indescribable.

  Ryoken beamed. “I’m so happy right now, thank you, for everything, all your efforts.”

  He couldn’t contain himself. Yes, the issue of the Dark Ignis remained but for now, now was a time of victory and celebration, no matter how small or what ills were to follow. Ryoken sat down next to Spectre and hugged him. Spectre stiffened as the touch, as Ryoken’s arms came around him and held him. Ryoken sighed. Spectre flinched.

  “Please, sir, stop…” Spectre murmured.

  Ryoken receded slightly and he gazed up at Spectre who looked most uncomfortable, even frightened, by his embrace.

  “Are you alright…?” Ryoken asked and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

  “It hurts.” Spectre admitted in a tiny voice. “It hurts when you do that.”

  He wanted to get away so Ryoken let him. Ryoken straightened up and the atmosphere turned awkward. Ryoken hadn’t thought that he would be squeezing Spectre so hard that it would hurt, and it wounded him that he had yet neither said a word. There was silence save for the whirring of the air conditioner on the far wall. Spectre pointedly looked the other way, but he could feel when Ryoken stole looks at him.

  “Are you okay?” Ryoken asked again.

  Spectre attempted to reply but his words came out a stutter, confused and agitated until he finally gave up and changed the subject. “You said Playmaker defeated Bohman but what of you? What happened after I-” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “If you can stomach it, I’m sure the Lieutenants may have recordings of the duels that took place after your loss.” Ryoken said.

  “I would rather hear it from you first.” Spectre replied with a terse exhale.

  “Of course, as you wish.”

  Ryoken then went on to explain the events which followed after Spectre’s loss. Some of it made him laugh, some of it harrowed him, but there was an oddness to his reactions, a certain detached callousness, which Ryoken couldn’t deny despite how much he wanted to. He wasn’t certain but he could tell. Something about Spectre was off but he couldn’t confirm it until later. When their conversation finished up, they were both famished, and the Lieutenants had returned so they had a meal together.

  The fridge had been stocked up with the best and even though the kitchen was tiny, there was an atmosphere of celebration. Aso, Kyoko, and Genome: they all agreed that with the vast majority of the Ignis terminated, it was time to take the victory no matter how meagre. Spectre merely sat and watched. It was eerie and yet, the Lieutenants hardly seemed to notice but its not like Spectre was a big personality. He was a small one. A wisp of the thing and right now, he just wanted to sit at the dining table chair and watch with a rather blank expression.

  Ryoken kept reminding himself to keep glancing towards him, keep checking on him but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for Spectre’s opinion on things. He was reasonably certain that even if he were to ask, then he would merely be stalled out or lied to. He could forgive Spectre either way for that, those were two cores of his character, after all, but Ryoken still cared for him very deeply.

  “Thank you.” Spectre said when Kyoko put a plate of food in front him. He didn’t smile.

  “Your welcome.” Kyoko replied but she glanced at Ryoken, she had noticed as well.

  No one in this so-called household was a gourmet chef but if there was anyone who came close, it would have been Spectre. He cared deeply about his produce and how it was treated, he wanted it to be certain that they were treated with care and respect, so he typically produced the best meals. Not for this luncheon, at least.

  Everyone sat at the table and thanked each other for the meal, for surviving, and so forth. The Lieutenants ate ravenously and at the other end, of both the table and the spectrum, Spectre barely ate with Ryoken truly in between. Spectre finished first and then retired to his bed on the yacht; no one stopped him. So, no one did the dishes, either, since after eating, everyone wanted to sleep.

  Ryoken left his plate and crockery on the sink then slunk off. He and Spectre shared a twin room and he was quiet as he entered it. There wasn’t much space physically between the two beds since it was kind of cramped on the yacht, but it felt a lot bigger as Ryoken’s eyes settled on how defensive Spectre seemed, lying on his side with his back to the door. Ryoken’s anxieties just worsened.

  But it was nothing compared to when he managed to confirm and get a better grapple on what Spectre was feeling at present. Or if he was even feeling anything at all.

  The following day, they all woke up at weird times, feeling groggy and bad so Ryoken, against everyone’s wishes, they wanted to lie low and eat some more, and maybe do the dishes if they were feeling really daring but he convinced them otherwise. He returned the yacht to the marina and at dusk, he dragged everyone off the yacht and sent them on their ways. To do anything for an hour and then they would be back.

  Ryoken was hoping that even Spectre would go off and do his own thing but very sullenly, he insisted that he would prefer to shadow Ryoken, so he did. So, Ryoken donned the choice of doing something that he thought Spectre would like, even for a little while and he figured there was no choice more obvious than walking along the pier, they had planter boxes and sculptures and similar. He thought surely that would perk Spectre up, even a little, but he was wrong. Really wrong.

  Spectre followed at a few paces and Ryoken couldn’t bring himself to grab Spectre’s hand and all but make it a date. But Ryoken was afraid that he might hurt Spectre again, like when he had hugged him yesterday. He stood in front of one planter box and looked out to the water which shone with the oncoming hues of dusk. He pointed at the flowers. He thought they were pretty, all their tiny buds and the wiry stems of a grey-green.

  “Hey, Spectre, can you tell me any fun facts about this variety?” he asked. He thought that they were peonies, but he wasn’t sure.

  Spectre caught up and he instead mumbled, “I don’t like the crowd here.”

  Ryoken glanced around. There were less people here than he thought; maybe they were all crammed inside the bars and restaurants along the pier. But he nodded. He knew that Spectre had never been overly fond of public places and big crowds and all their social batteries were running on empty. It was understandable; it was also excusable.

  “Okay,” Ryoken replied, a little downhearted and rejected, “let’s go home.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Spectre sounded a little bit happier.

  Ryoken had wanted to linger longer along the pier but if Spectre wanted to go home, then they would both go home. They walked back and again, Spectre remained a few steps behind Ryoken. Normally, he didn’t mind, but it felt more indicative of something else given the events of yesterday.

  At dinner, Spectre hardly ate again and was the first to retire to bed, Ryoken gave him the space he clearly wanted by washing the dishes but the repetitiveness of cleaning up today and yesterday’s meals, gave him too much time to be inside his head worrying about Spectre. After finishing up, wiping down his hands, Ryoken retired to his and Spectre’s room. He saw that Spectre was sleeping on his side again. It was still unusual, he tended to prefer to sleep on his back and it made Ryoken wonder, was he actually asleep?

  So, he prompted him, “Spectre?”

  “Yes, sir?” he replied tiredly.

  “Are you sure you ate enough today?” Ryoken asked. “There’s snacks in the pantry if you want them.”

  “I’m quite right, thank you for your concern.” He sounded scripted.

  “Why is that?” Ryoken asked and he already feared the truth, should he elicit it at all.

  “It’s simple.” Spectre scoffed. “Losers don’t eat.”

  There it was. Ryoken was surprised that Spectre had said that at all, but he was glad to be told the truth, no matter how terribly electrifying, like a live wire come loose.

  Ryoken settled on the bed. He wondered if now and here the right time for those sorts of conversations. He stole another look at Spectre. It was obvious he just needed time to lick his wounds and have some space. Ryoken closed his eyes and held the sheet up right, lying the other way to Spectre.

  Dealing with him had been easier when he was a child. When he didn’t know all their tricks. When he had come to the mansion, and when the Lieutenants had actually managed to speak with one of the good doctor’s darling test subjects, it became increasingly obvious that there was something wrong with this child’s psyche. And that aberration had already been there long before he had been their test subject in the Hanoi Project.

  Ryoken recalled that he would sometimes be schooled by the assistants in order to coach Spectre, engage him in therapy play and the like. Ryoken helped to teach Spectre his own emotions and the like, playing in very staged games and the like but at least in the moment, Spectre had never noticed because he had never really played with another child before. Eventually, once he had gotten good at it, they started him on identifying emotions and the like in other people and for better or worse, he had gotten very good at that as he had a naturally calculative mind.

  But they weren’t children anymore and for better or worse, though he would deny it, possibly, Spectre had agency and, no doubt in his mind, Ryoken was both therapy and better than therapy. He would never own up to what he was feeling until he had repressed it and gotten better at masking and mirroring – like he had done in the Link VRAINS, Ryoken realised now. He knew there had been something a little too good about how Spectre had smiled there, in a cascade of glowing, golden specks. He had smiled a little too wide. He just wanted to be praised for going through the motions, following Ryoken’s sincere and earnest grin. So happy to be alive.

 A few weeks passed like this. A sort of in-between where the pallor of awkwardness had receded slightly so Ryoken tested his waters again. It occurred to him that maybe the Earth Ignis, who was now wholly and utterly gone, had been holding up more of Spectre’s emotions than either of them had ever realised. Of course, there were other possibilities too. Maybe it was just a depressive slump, maybe it was something else with its roots in Spectre’s childhood and infancy, but either way, they to get back into the network and continue their mission. The Dark Ignis was still at large and therefore, still posed a threat and had to be eradicated. Yusaku was the only thing that stood between them and the final bout of their goal.

  However, more mundanely, Ryoken hoped that exposing Spectre to people he knew, even if he wasn’t particularly close to them or even liked them, might inspire a change in him. Ryoken had been observing Spectre and he had taken to routine again, that was good. Getting up early, going to bed late, and doing all the errands and the like in between but he hadn’t absorbed back into his hobbies or the like which was worrying.

  At least he came along with Ryoken on that particular mission. Ryoken wouldn’t have forced him if he said no as it wasn’t his thing at the best of times and in consolidation, Ryoken didn’t drag it out either. He said his hellos, he asked about the Ignis, he did his best to ignore Takeru who was hanging out at Café Nagi as well.

  But it was just him who had said his hellos and said his bit. He had been hoping that Spectre would say something – anything, even just a hello – but alas. He just stood behind him at a few paces with a grumpy, scrunched up sort of expression.

  They returned to the yacht not long after. Ryoken picked up two iced teas for them elsewhere, one for himself and one for Spectre, because Spectre wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, and especially not from Café Nagi, and whilst he didn’t really want it, he appreciated it. But both the one-use plastic drinks ended up on the table and they retired to their room together.

  They sat on the edge of their bed; their feet almost meeting in the middle, but Spectre had angled himself away from Ryoken because regardless of if Spectre wanted it, Ryoken wanted to confront the weirdness between them.

  “I’m sorry.” Ryoken started.

  “Don’t.” Spectre intoned sharply but oddly disappointed.

  “I noticed your mutism flared up around Playmaker and Soulburner earlier…” Ryoken said, and also at the iced tea kiosk but he didn’t mention that.

  “Yes…” Spectre murmured.

  “I just want to know,” Ryoken said, “is there anything I can do for you? I’m just really worried about you.”

  “I know…” Spectre murmured. “I’m just having a hard time collecting my thoughts as of late.”

  “I can tell.” Ryoken replied.

  Spectre hazarded a smile because he knew that’s what Ryoken was likely probing him for.

  “If you think of anything, anything at all, I want to help.” Ryoken said.

  “I’d like to hear it.” Spectre blurted out suddenly, eyes watering. “I want to hear you say you won’t leave me behind or abandon me, please.”

  Ryoken blinked. He was surprised but he also wasn’t surprised, so his expression softened.

  “I won’t ever leave you behind, I promise, you mean the world to me Spectre, if I were to abandon you, I would be abandoning my whole world, please believe me when I say that, I love you.” Ryoken replied and then he realised what he had said. “You don’t have to say it back to me, don’t feel pressured, please.”

  “I love you too.” Spectre said in a tiny voice and he smiled. It was small and twitchy and even a little uncertain but Ryoken knew it was genuine.

  Ryoken smiled. “Can I hug you?” he asked. “Please.”

  Spectre flashed him a look that made him look very fawnish and hurt but he instead said, “No.”

  “Oh.” Ryoken murmured. Not quite a gasp but he couldn’t be surprised. It was Spectre’s decision; he would respect it even if it made his heart flutter.

  “I want to hug you.” Spectre said with clarification, but he still carried this odd look about him.

  Spectre got up and he sat next to Ryoken. His heart hammered in his chest. Ryoken felt similarly. Spectre hefted his legs up and he cuddled in, holding Ryoken at the bottom of his waist. He had this very petulant look of dislike on his face, but he closed his eyes. He listened to the swift beating of Ryoken’s heart. Ryoken smiled and put his arms around Spectre.

  “Does it hurt?” Ryoken asked in a quiet voice.

  “No, it doesn’t.” Spectre replied as a whisper.

  Ryoken wanted to reply but he was fairly certain that his gladness was already conveyed as Spectre continued to settle. He didn’t seem all that uncomfortable anymore so Ryoken patted his back, stroking him gently.

[rubberducky-jrr]

Subway Girl (Part 1)

Summary: Peter and you somehow keep getting on the same subway. You didn’t notice at first but when you did, your world changed forever.

Pairings: Peter Parker x Reader, May x Happy, Tony x Pepper

Warnings: Swearing and mention of verbal abuse

A/n:  I’m going to be doing a tag list for this, let me know if you want to be added to it!

**

Peter didn’t really notice at the start, too busy in his own little world to notice you sat opposite him on the subway before.

He slowly began to notice when one day someone bumped into you and knocked the books in your arms all over the subway carriage floor.

Peter sprung to action, quickly kneeling down and picking up some of the books for you. He spotted An Introduction to Immunology before seeing a few over biology books.

College student, maybe first year considering how young she looks.

He passed you the books and you softly smiled up at him, a small blush rising onto your cheeks.

“Thanks,” you said before quickly rushing off the subway at your stop.

From that day, Peter began to see you nearly every time he was on the subway in the evenings. You always got on the middle carriage, sitting on the right side, normally with a book in hand or earphones in listening to music.

You were beautiful in his opinion, your hair in loose but messy curls. Your lips were strawberry red, shining ever so slightly from the lipgloss you had applied in the morning.

After about a week or so, you finally glanced up towards him. You saw him look away, busying himself with reading a poster just above your head to act as if he hadn’t just been watching you for ages.

You glanced back down at your book, Peter seeing a soft smile forming on your lips and a slight blush on your cheeks. He couldn’t help but smile to himself slightly.

The next stop came and you were gone, Peter sighing at himself for yet again not having the courage to go introduce himself.

***

“It’s like she’s everywhere I go,” Peter complained to Aunt May and Happy at the dinner table.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” May warned and Peter swallowed down his bite of spring roll before sighing.

“I think someone has a crush,” Happy teased and May chuckled, both glancing at each other. Peter rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a crush,” he grumbled in defence before grabbing another spring roll and eating it in one.

“It seems like it is, you are seeing her everywhere you go,” May joked, lifting her glass of wine up to take a sip.

“Just on the subway,” he admitted. “Like yesterday, she was reading The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, hair all in a messy bun and glasses sliding down her nose,” he rambled on, the memory of you looking adorable running through his mind.

May looked over to Happy, a knowing look being exchanged between them before she glanced back at Peter.

“You’re right, that’s totally not a crush,” she said and Happy hummed in agreement.

“No, definitely not.”

“It’s more of a stalker kind of vibe,” May said and Peter gave her a glare.

“Shut up,” he said and the two adults just laughed. “I’m going to finish this in my room,” Peter grumbled, grabbing his plate of Chinese food before standing up and walking to his room.

He paused at the door, walking back into the dining room to snatch up the bag of spring rolls, May just smirking at him.

***

The next evening rolled by and Peter found himself slightly excited to get on the subway. He sighed, realising Aunt May and Happy had been right.

I have a crush on the subway girl.

The subway rolled by and Peter hopped onto the middle carriage, finding an available seat before glancing around.

You weren’t here.

He found himself letting out a disappointed sigh, relaxing back into his chair.

Where is she?

***

The next two evenings went by and there was no sign of you. On the third evening, Peter began to curse himself for not introducing himself to you when he had the chance, now he could have lost that opportunity forever.

The fourth evening rolled by and Peter climbed onto the subway train’s middle carriage, not even looking around this time and simply sitting down in a seat and staring at the floor, daydreaming.

“Look, can we not have this conversation right now, I’m on the subway,” you mumbled from a few seats down, Peter being able to hear it clearly due to his enhanced hearing. “Please can you-“ you were interrupted by your dad on the end of the phone call. You let out a deep sigh, head hanging low and hand rubbing her eyes in annoyance as your dad just ranted on.

Peter glanced up, along with a few other people sat next to you. That was when his heart felt like it had skipped a beat.

It’s her.

You were looking a bit more worse for wear, hair slightly greasy pulled up in a bun and bare face. You still looked beautiful in Peter’s eyes.

That’s when he noticed the pained expression on your face, dark bags under your slightly red eyes as if you had been crying moments ago.

He frowned slightly before quickly looking away, realising he had been looking a little bit too long.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I’m done with you ok. I’m not living there anymore,” you snapped, raising your voice before quickly shying away. You turned slightly to the carriage wall, head down as if to block out the rest of the world.

“I don’t know where I’ll go, but it won’t be yours,” you replied to him, hanging up the phone before sniffing back tears. You sighed deeply as the subway pulled up at your stop before quickly walking off, hoping your friend would let you crash for the night.

Peter watched you leave, curiosity rising up within him. You didn’t seem to be doing so well.

***

“So, May tells me you have a little crush?” Tony called over from where he was tinkering away underneath his car in his lab.

“What?” Peter glanced up from the new blueprints he had been reading, having swung by the tower to check out Tony’s latest designs for the Spider-Man suit.

“May. She says you have a crush on some subway girl,” he repeated himself, pushing out from under the car and sitting up.

“O-oh right, yeah... It’s just some girl I keep seeing,” Peter said, looking back down at his blueprints in hopes they wouldn’t have this conversation.

“Have you talked to her?” Tony asked, walking over and leaning against the desk.

“No, not yet,” he admitted and Tony sighed.

“Are you going to?” He asked and Peter just shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Tony gave him a knowing look, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I will eventually,” he began and Tony rolled his eyes, pushing up off the table and grabbing a wheely chair from the nearest desk. He sat back to front on it, sliding over to face Peter.

“Look kid, you got to take that chance alright, next time you see her just go say hi,” he told Peter, who rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he did when nervous.

“It’s not as easy as that, Mr Stark,” he began. “I’d rather go head to head with Hulk or Thor than talk to a girl,” he admitted and Tony chuckled.

“So your flirting game isn’t great, I could have guessed,” he said before rolling away from Peter. He grabbed the bag of raisins on his desk before rolling back over.

“I’m 17, what do you expect?”

“Kid, when I was your age...” Tony began before shaking his head. “That stuff isn’t important. What is important is just to be yourself, who cares how many women you’ve managed to pick up and sleep with.”

“That would be zero,” Peter mumbled before looking back at the blueprints.

“What’s stopping you from talking to her?” Tony asked, picking away at the raisins. Peter sighed, realising Tony wasn’t going to let the conversation die.

“I don’t know, nerves, stumbling over my words and looking stupid, the fear of rejection,” he listed off.

“You’re Spider-Man, that in itself is amazing. You’re the smartest kid I know, probably smarter than I was when I was your age,” Tony began and Peter raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll deny that if you tell anyone,” he quickly added and Peter laughed lightly in response.

“What’s she like?” Tony then asked, holding out the bag of raisins for Peter to grab a handful.

“I think she does biology or medicine at college due to the books she reads on the subway,” he began and Tony nodded.

“Smart girl,” he commented and Peter hummed in agreement.

Peter began to ramble on, taking about the number of times he had tried to build up the confidence to talk to you. He only stopped when he saw the massive smirk on Tony’s face.

“What?” Peter asked and Tony just chuckled to himself. “What?” He asked again as Tony stood up, throwing the empty bag of raisins in the recycling bin.

“This is exactly how I felt with Pep,” he said.

“Well how did you manage to ask Pepper on a date?” Peter asked and Tony chuckled again.

“I saved her life,” he simply shrugged and Peter just sighed in defeat. “But to be honest, she had saved me many times before that,” he added, moving back to the car he was working on. “Trust me Peter, she knows you’ve been staring at her and since she’s not yet called the police, I think you have a chance with her,” he said before winking and sliding back under the car.

Peter took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair, spinning slightly as his mind wondered.

Was Mr Stark’s words true, did she actually like me?

***

Just like yesterday, Peter saw you again. You looked better today, your hair was down and you had a sun dress on.

However, you had bags under your eyes and was lugging two large and very heavy suitcases with you. You felt like your arms were going to fall off from how heavy they were.

Peter took a deep breath, Tony’s words ringing in his head.

Come on, just go up to her. Say hi, it’s that easy.

He was too busy trying to convince himself to go talk to you that your stop was suddenly coming up.

You stood up, pulling at the two large suitcases with much difficulty. You got to the doors, pulling one onto the platform while the other suddenly got stuck. You gave it a few tugs before the doors started to shut, bouncing off the bag and opening up again.

Peter saw that you were in distress and found himself suddenly getting up to help you.

“Let me try,” he said, grabbing the stuck suitcase and giving it a rough pull before it came lose. He stepped off the subway train onto the platform, putting your suitcase down next to the other one.

“Thank you so much,” you said, a genuine smile on your face. Peter blushed slightly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck.

“No problem, happy to help,” Peter said suddenly hearing the subway doors shut. “Shit,” he mumbled, turning quickly before sighing, the subway already pulling away from the platform.

“I’m sorry,” you said from behind him, the guilt rising up within you.

“It’s alright, it’s not your fault,” he said, turning to give you a soft smile. You had a small pained expression on your face, feeling bad for making him miss his stop.

“It is,” you grumbled, kicking your suitcase slightly in annoyance and guilt.

“Well technically, it’s your suitcase’s fault but don’t be too hard on it,” he said with a smile and you chuckled. You sighed, the smile slipping from your face before you ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the knots.

“Which is your stop?” You asked.

“Four more from here, within walking distance. It’s fine, honestly,” he added and you bit your lip.

“Well, at least let me buy you a drink, or a pizza, something to say thank you and sorry for making you miss your stop?” You asked nervously.

Peter’s eyes went wide slightly, his heart beat picking up slightly. The palm of his hands became slightly sweaty as he found himself stumbling for words.

“Pizza?” You asked again a few moments later since Peter had yet to respond.

“Oh, y-yeah, I’d...I’d love to,” he stumbled slightly and you smiled softly at him.

“I’m Y/n,” you said, holding out a hand. Peter quickly and discreetly wiped his hand on his jeans before shaking your hand.

“I’m Peter,” he replied before following you out of the subway and towards a cute little pizza parlour a few blocks down. He pulled one of the suitcases for you as you walked together.

“So Peter, I’ve seen you a few times on the subway... Are you following me?” You asked, teasing him slightly. Peter chuckled nervously, glancing down at the ground as a blush creeped onto his cheeks.

“It appears so,” he replied, trying to calm his nerves. “But I’m not, honestly,” he quickly added when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s a shame, thought I had a handsome admirer,” you said and Peter let out a nervous laugh, his heart skipping a beat from you calling him handsome.

They walked into the pizza parlour, sliding into one of the red booths by the window.

“Ok, so you’re probably going to say I’m weird but...” you began, glancing up from the menu. Peter frowned, nerves rising again wondering what you were going to say. “I hate cheese, so I get it without,” you admitted, glancing at the table with a blush.

“So basically just bread and tomato?” Peter questioned and you rolled your eyes, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“No, I-I get other toppings on it... Just... Just without cheese,” you explained and Peter could only smile, seeing how adorably shy you were in this moment.

“It’s ok, I’ll only judge you a little bit,” he joked, causing you to laugh lightly. You ordered your pizza and some drinks before leaning back into the booth and smiling nervously at Peter

“Do you go to high school or college?”You asked, still unsure of his age

“High school, I’m in my last year though,” he replied, quickly adding the last part to not sound so young.

“Thinking of college?” Peter nodded

“Do you go?” He asked back.

“Medical school,” you said and Peter raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I know what you are thinking and yes, it’s very hard,” you added, both of you chuckling before easily slipping into a long conversation with him.

Your pizzas came, both looking delicious. Of course, Peter had to make a comment about your no cheese pizza to which you blushed and laughed off.

“I have to ask,” Peter began, picking up his four slice. “The suitcases?” He nodded towards the two of them against the wall of the parlour. You sighed, leaning back into the booth and wiping your mouth with the napkin.

“It’s a long story,” you said and Peter shrugged.

“My bedtimes not till 10,” he teased and you laughed lightly at him. You leant forward to grab your drink, taking a large gulp of water before sighing again.

“I moved out of my house,” you said and Peter nodded. “I’m currently on my to crash at my friends house for a week or so, until I can get my own apartment,” you explained.

“Why did you move out?” He asked before realising how personal that question could be. You glanced away from him, grabbing another slice of your pizza before replying.

“My dad,” you simply said before taking a large bite and chewing. Peter could see the change in your features, how your shoulders tensed up slightly and how your eyes avoided looking at him.

“Oh,” Peter replied, taking a bite of his own pizza as a way to allow him time to think of a proper reply.

“You can kinda guess that he was a massive prick, drank too much, shouted too much. I just didn’t want to deal with that sort of life anymore,” you simply said, brushing your hair behind her ear.

Peter felt anger rise up slightly from the thought of your father hurting you like that, a small sense of sorrow making its way through.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said, leaning forward and placing a hand over your free hand that was on the table. You glanced down at your hands together and then back up at him, giving him a soft smile.

“It’s alright, I’m out of it now. Time to move forward,” you said and he smiled.

“That’s a good way to look at it,” he replied, locking eyes with you.

Peter felt his heart rate increase the second he had taken your hand in his. His breathing hitched slightly as he looked into your eyes that showed so much emotions within them.

Suddenly, the waiter came over, breaking the moment between you two to ask if you wanted any more drinks.

You both said no, pulling away from each other. You cleared your throat before busying yourself with finishing off your fifth slice of pizza.

“So...” Peter began as you wiped your fingers on your napkin. “Have you seen any apartments you like?” He asked and you began to nod.

“I’ve found three, I’m viewing one tomorrow morning actually. Thank god it’s the weekend,” you said with a chuckle and Peter smiled.

You got the rest of your pizza to takeaway, Peter having finished all his, which you had teased him about.

“I’m a growing man,” he simply replied, making you laugh.

He held the door open for you, both dragging a suitcase out into the street.

“Can I walk you to your friends?” Peter asked, thankful he caught himself before saying your father’s house. “I’ll help with these suitcases,” he added yet you were already nodding.

“I’d love that,” you said and Peter’s heart felt like it had skipped a beat at the way you smiled so softly at him. “It’s only a block away and then right,” you told him as you began to walk down the street.

“So Peter, last year of high school. How is it going?” You asked and Peter just shrugged.

“As good as it could be I guess,” he replied. God, he loved how his name sounded when you said it.

“Any plans for the future, which college were you thinking of going to?” You asked as you crossed the road together.

“I’m currently working with Tony Stark,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “But I’m thinking M.I.T or something physics based,” he added, hoping you ignored the Tony Stark comment, which sadly you didn’t.

“Tony Stark,” you began, an eyebrow raised. “That’s very impressive.” Peter just shrugged, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

You rounded the corner to your friends flat, Peter helping you lug the two suitcases up into the building and towards the elevator.

“So this is me,” you began, turning around to face him with a smile.

“It seems so,” he said, nerves rising within him as he fumbled for words to say.

“I had a nice night... Maybe we could, we could do this again some time?” You asked and Peter nodded. “Here’s my number,” you began, quickly rummaging through your bag for a pen. You took his hand, writing down your number on the back it.

“Call me sometime,” you then said.

“Y-Yeah, I will,” he replied, looking down at the number with his stomach feeling like there were butterflies inside it.

You gave him a soft smile, eyes glancing down to his lips before back up to lock eyes with him. You took a slow step forward, closing the small distance between them.

“Are you ok?” You asked softly, hand going to gently touch his arm.

“Yes, erm... I’ll call you sometime, good night,” he said before turning towards the door.

Why am I this awkward? Clearly she was angling for a kiss.

He cursed himself for not just kissing her and for looking stupid.

“Peter,” you called just as his hand was on the building door handle. He turned to see you walking over to him, stopping mere inches away from him.

You began to lean forward and Peter’s heart beat picked up, his breathing hitching before suddenly your lips were on his.

His senses went into overdrive. Your hair smelt of coconut, lips tasting of strawberry from your lipgloss. He breathed in your vanilla and rose perfume, simply drowning into you.

You pulled away from the soft kiss, a small blush rising on your cheeks as you did. You smiled nervously at him, to which he replied back with his own nervous smile.

“Call me,” you said to which Peter just nodded. He turned, running face first into the door.

You chuckled as Peter glanced back in embarrassment. He fumbled for the door handle before quickly pulling the door open and running down the building steps.

He turned once at the bottom. You gave him a small wave through the glass door to which he waved back.

He then quickly began to make his way home, feeling like he was walking on air and practically skipping home. He couldn’t help but smile, people walking passed him probably thought he was crazy.

He flipped up the stairs of his apartment building, not being able to control his excitement.

“Where have you been?” Aunt May asked once he walked into the apartment, not realising he was way past his curfew. She was sat with Happy on the sofa watching a movie.

“Just out,” he said, dropping his keys on the dining room table before rummaging through the fridge.

“Just out,” May mocked. “What’s with the massive grin on your face then?” She asked, Happy pausing the movie as they both turned around to look at him.

He shrugged, grabbing two yoghurts and three chocolate bars from the fridge. He turned to face them, the smile still on his face.

“Let’s just say... I finally got up the courage to talk to her,” he said before skipping to his room.

[kwrittink]

Nothing Is What It Seems 2

Pairing: Im Jaebum x Hybrid!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: language? mentions of violence, mentions of abandon, threats and attempted blackmail

<ONE                                                                                THREE>

It had been two weeks since you first met Jaebum. The jacket, even if it had given you soundless nights, also was the root of some fights and stealing attempts, since it was something that really gave off the vibe of being really expensive. Well I think now no one will want it, you snickered, looking at the huge knife-inflicted gash in the back from the last fight you had for it. What mattered that it was still wearable thought, so you wouldn't have to throw it away - not that you would even if it was in shreds, you'd still recycle it into a pillow or something. 

Another thing you've noticed is that the food you found in the alley looked slightly better, for at least one or two bags of food you dug from the garbage per day were barely untouched, as if someone had just mixed the contents together and thrown them out, but you didn't dwell on it too much, because it was edible and you could only thank your luck. Hell I ate a whole fish this morning and I could even sell leftovers from yesterday and got myself new socks, you snickered, looking down at your figure, that now had a really oversized wool grey shirt, some jean shorts, the new thigh high fuzzy socks you bought and - of course - your lucky leather jacket. You weren't a model or a fashonista but that was enough to keep yourself warm then you didn't care how it looked like.

 "Look what we've got here, Kitty's got a new cover," The voice beside your ear didn't startle you more than usual, but still made you irritated as your spiked tail and nape hair indicated. 

 "Geojong, I told you to stay away from me." Your tone was calm, only to not attract attention from the humans surrounding, but your eyes rolled as far as they could in annoyance at the presence of the rat hybrid. 

 "Oh, but you know I can't stay away, dear. What would be of me without you? What would be of you?" He whispered at he side of your face, fingers tapping your shoulders lightly. You sighed, wondering what could he possibly want that time. 

 "You'd be probably dead, which in my opinion would be so good for the environment," scoffing while shaking his hands off and glaring at him, you crossed your arms hiding the bread you had just found among the leftovers of the nearby bakery - it wasn't usual for you to walk to other alleys but that one seemed empty for sure - since your go-to alley was in an unusual balance day. 

 "Oh don't treat me so coldly Y/N... After all we've been through-"

 "Don't start with that crap because we both know that when someone need to go through something you're the one who's suddenly miles away." You sneered, relishing on the way he stepped back at your clipping tone. Yeah, he was trouble and definitely taller than you, but you could handle him. You had handled worse than that. "Now tell me, what do you want?"

 Looking away from your squinting expression Geojong cleared his throat and once more put a cocky expression on, leaning on the wall behind himself. "Well, I was curious. Word has it you're with new clothes and selling shit for other hybrids and as I can see put on a little weight... So I wanted to know what's going on, you've got an owner again?" A smirk grew on his face and you couldn't help but blush at the mention of your weight gain. You only knew the effects of eating better and often because it was harder to feel cold these days and winter had been approaching quickly that year.

 "You're crazy if you think I'd let anyone own me again. It's just luck and a lot of walking around. You could put some meat on those dry ass bones, but I know for a fact that you don't work a day for anyone, even for yourself..." You trailed off, head tilting with a sarcastic smile on. 

 "So good to see you still know me so well, Y/N!" He chuckled, not even offended of being practically called lazy, probably still wanting to be on your good side to get things. "Don't say I don't walk though, I've come all the way here to see an old friend and share a meal with them... I might be lazy, but I would never forget you." 

 "You want a meal? Then come and buy it at the park like every other stray. You must know I'm hanging out around there in the afternoons-"

 He winced slightly, immediately cutting you off while once again, his hand came to grab at your shoulder. "Ah but you wouldn't do this to me, hm? Making me pay for food when you know how much you owe me-" I knew he'd try to act cute with me.

 "Do I? I believe is quite the contrary, dear rat. But I'm going to let it go by the sake of our... Friendship, okay?" A hiss passed your lips as you grasped him by the ragged shirt, pressing him back to the alley wall. After everything he made you go through, Geojong still had the balls to make those kind of claims like your memory had been completely scrambled? Still, seeing his eyes as big as plates with fear - you were his predator by nature anyways - you released his shirt, huffing through your nose. He's just another being trying to survive with what had been given to him. "Now if you don't have money or anything exchangeable with you, piss off." 

 Even after you stepped back, he didn't straighten up right away and a pang hit your chest at the sight of him which had tried to help you, even if being a bastard all the steps of the way, and to whom you'd been so grateful before. It was a shame Geojong only cared about the money, if he had a shred of remorse for what happened to me, I'd even think about forgiving and helping him... You missed whatever the rat hybrid said after, only noticing he was moving when his slumped form started walking away, towards the exit of the alley. Not only that, you also noticed how battered he looked and - even if you were being sarcastic before - how thin he was. Before he used to be really well dressed, with stuff his men gathered for him... I've heart things had gone awry for Geojong but not to this extent...

 "Hey," You almost whispered, but knew he had heard you as soon as he stopped walking. Picking the loaf from the floor - it landed on a pile of wrapping paper, so it was still pretty much edible - you threw it towards Geojong, which scrambled to grasp it, mouth falling open with surprise. He glanced up for an explanation. "Just because I don't want to see you in a ditch somewhere."

 "You've got a heart of gold, Y/N-nyan." At the term, you took a deep annoyed breath, rolling your eyes once again. 

 "Don't get used to it." 

 --

After your meeting with Geojong you were spent, counting the few coins you've got from your business that afternoon you sighed knowing it was little - you wouldn't charge a lot for some leftovers anyways, sometimes... Most of the time even a item could be exchangeable for food - but at least enough to even ask for a small coffee to warm you up before searching for a place to nap before getting dinner. 

 You were actually happy that things for you were good - even putting on weight as Geojong kindly put it -, and even if you didn't want to think about it to avoid jinxing, it was inevitable to deny that if you kept saving up, in little to no time you could move cities, somewhere far and start over, maybe even try a job and get into a republic-like shelter. I've read something about it, and my brother wanted to go there at first...

 At the memory of your brother you halted your steps, ears drooping with sadness. It had been a very long while since you've seen your little brother Jimin, you wondered how he was holding up, if he was being treated well, if he was even alive. You didn't blame him for not looking out for you if he was well, because those things were like that and cat siblings were usually emotionally unattached but you wished to see him, even if from afar just once more. He had been through a lot before.

 "Oh look what we have here... Are you sad kitty? Want me to pet you?" The disgusting and creepy tone of a guy behind you made the hairs at your nape stand up and you hissed at the insinuation. Can't let my guard down in this town... Before he could try to grab you you twirled away as fast as you could, being careful to take your tail out of the way and avoid it being yanked, since it wasn't something you enjoyed a lot and took off running to the opposite direction, having the man screaming for you to be held down, claiming you had stolen his wallet. To your surprise, people made way for you as you ran, not giving attention to the shaggy man, making you wonder if he was someone that was actually pretty dangerous. Better avoid that place then.

 Late in the night you were dozing off after a good meal - this time you ate spicy noodles and though they weren't your favorite, they were pretty nice -, sitting with your back against the wall and using the leather jacket as a blanket, when you heard steps in the alley.

 Now, you weren't keen on sleeping in that alley because that place, even if it was good for finding food, was very frequented by couples that got out of the club which one of these walls belong to - and men waiting for easy preys like you - but after that heavy meal you got so sleepy it didn't seem so bad to nap for a bit in there. Hope it's no one harmful, I was really enjoying my nap... Staying as quiet and still as you could, you peeked through hooded eyes at the dark figure and frowned, wondering why it looked so familiar...

 Until a cold breeze went through the alley and made you shiver and your shuffling was noticed by the apparently stranger that halted his steps, turning towards your shrunken body.

 "Holy shit you scared the hell outta me!" As the other took a step back when locking eyes with you, the voice was immediately recognized as that man from the other night, Jaebum. You sat up, head tilting and ears standing straight in attention to his presence, amused that he had that kind of reaction seeing you.

 "Jaebum?" You half-whispered, straightening your torso a bit so you could lean on the wall. The tall man gave you a sheepish smile as you took a good look at him and noticed the food bag on his hands. Does he work around here or...? 

 "Hey you there, Y/N wasn't it?" He asked, and you snickered while nodding a bit. "You still have my jacket, that's nice. I hope it's keeping you warm?" He inquired, not even trying to step closer. Your grin widened a little more as you once more nodded. 

 "It's very warm yes thank you," usually you weren't this thankful to strangers, but he had been the only person that had given you things - good things - without asking for anything back. There wasn't much people like that in the world and you weren't about to take his kindness for granted. "Do you work near here?" 

 "Yeah, I actually work at the restaurant beside the club, I own that place with a friend of mine." His smile was soft as he placed the bag on the floor, leaning on the wall nearby. 

 You hummed thoughtfully, then tilted your head to look at him. "You're the co-owner yet you're taking out the trash? How odd..." You pondered, more to yourself than anything, but he heard what you said, eyes turning wide and mouth slack as he tried to find a way to explain what exactly he was doing.

 "Uhh... Yeah that well..." The man muttered and you frowned at his actions, wondering why he was having such a hard time to say something, when suddenly two and two clicked together. Oh, he works at a restaurant hm? And this is the alley where we met so maybe... A small smile broke on your lips as you eyed once again the bag with food in his hands. It was only logical to understand then why you've been finding food more often and in better quality in that particular alley because he was the one putting it there just for you. 

 As he noticed your understanding a heavy sigh passed his lips, hand going to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah, that's what it looks like. It was more wishful thinking that maybe you'd come by to eat again, so I wanted you to have at least better food..." At his explanation, you had to purse your lips to stop the wide grin from spreading on your face and got up, walking towards him slowly with the jacket slung over your shoulders and shielding you from the night breeze. He straightened up when you got closer like he was nervous and you relished quietly on the smell of him, having the already worn out gifted leather jacket lost most of the original owner's scent. 

 "You already left food for me today though? Is that my breakfast?" You tried to be funny, ignoring how your stomach churned once Jaebum grinned a little, opening the bag of slightly messed up food in clean styrofoam packaging, which he'd probably throw over some plastic bags and brown paper. 

 "Maybe dinner - if I recall correctly there wasn't much noodles earlier... And you have to prepare for winter right?" 

 You snickered, crossing your arms over your chest, impressed at his basic knowledge regarding hybrids. Maybe he owned one before? "Wow, you know how to treat a lady don't you?" 

 At that you could swear he blushed, but the poor lighting and the hand going to scratch the tip of his nose avoided confirmation. "Well I'd offer you to eat at the restaurant but I know you wouldn't accept so I had to improvise."

 "Yeah you got that right..." This time you let the corner of your lips curl up, chin tilting towards the objects in his hands. "What you got there for me?" 

 "Uh fish croquet and rice. There was a team of children's baseball there and the kids didn't eat everything. Hope you don't mind-" Your ears perked up immediately upon hearing what was being offered, taking a sharp breath in surprise. Jaebum halted a little alarmed, looking up at your face and trying to figure if your reaction was good or not. 

 "Are you kidding me? Fish croquet is one of my favorite food!" Approaching, you thumbed at the bag, eyes wide as you searched for a piece and popping it into your mouth, humming delightedly. The man in front of you snorted and you decided to care later about what image he got from you.  

 You started nibbling eagerly, even if you weren't nearly hungry yet. It had been a long while since you've eaten that treat, perhaps from when you were just a small kitten in the shelter. It reminded you of safer and kinder times when the only thing you could worry about was if your brother had stolen your squeaky plushie again. Your eyes prickled a little. 

 Jaebum snickered softly, making your eyes snap up at him, cheeks warming up a little after realizing how it might have looked. "I'm sorry I was staring, you just looked so cute," he barely muttered and the fondness in his eyes made your face feel even warmer, despite the cold breeze constantly in that alley. 

 "Kinda creepy you watching me eat," you countered with a small pout, straightening up and licking your thumbs discreetly. He nodded a little in agreement, not able to meet your eyes and you found it a bit endearing that he was still embarrassed for being caught feeding you indirectly. "And now I don't think I should take that, I can't repay you at all..." As in, there are very few things I could give you in exchange.

 "Then maybe we could have coffee?" Jaebum proposed with a small smile, and you pursed your lips in disagreement. That kind of suggestion would mostly go one way, and it was quite a shame Jaebum was asking you that. I was starting to like him.

 "I thought you were already aware that I wouldn't go-"

 Eyes widening with the realization of your misunderstanding, he put one hand in front of his body to interrupt you. "No I mean, I could come here tomorrow morning with coffee and we could have breakfast together..." Explained, and your mouth gaped open, a sound of understanding leaving your lips. "That is if you don't mind, I don't want to sound-"

 "So, like some sort of date?" It was your turn to cut him off, and effectively in a way that your words this time did bring a blush on his cheeks as you chuckled inwardly. 

 "What? No, uh just- Not that I..." Jaebum stammered and you couldn't help but laugh at his desperation, and seeing that you only meant to tease, he also chuckled a little embarrassed.

 "Sure, if you don't mind sitting on this floor... But perhaps make it brunch, I like to sleep late." You advised with a little tilt of your head. Jaebum nodded with a giggle, looking satisfied for achieving that small step closer to you, and deep inside you were also feeling a little giddy, but had mixed feelings because it had been a long time you let yourself be around humans so carefree. I just hope I'm not wrong. 

 "Sure, I'll bring the special and your lunch for later then. Any preferences?" He asked and your mouth fell a little agape, surprised that he was actually letting you choose. Your chest felt warm.

  "Don't you know? Beggers can't be choosers." You quipped at him and saw him snort - you'd admit that it was cute later on - at your attempt of a joke, shaking his head afterward. 

 "But that's the thing, you're not begging for anything, so..." At his response you could only roll your eyes, reaching to grab the bag from his hands, quickly fishing some croquet and stuffing your mouth. You were a little frustrated and your cheeks were on fire for some reason, unable to find the voice to speak at him, since he was being so nice. It had been a while you've been treated with such equality it almost made you stumped. 

 "Whatever's fine" You started around a mouthful, then peering up to look at his face. "Maybe... Something warm?" 

 "Okay then, I'll make something tasty." He smiled once more, turning to walk away. You watched as Jaebum walked all the way across the alley, before turning and catching your eyes still on him. "How do you like your eggs thought?" 

 You hoped he couldn't see how flushed your face felt from that distance. "Scrambled?" You heard yourself practically whisper, and caught his nod before you decided to finally turn away and eat your food. 

 “Then it’s a date.” 

[taeyongtime]

finale of the longing heart

genre: rich kid!au x model!reader ⎮ angst ⎮ bittersweet fluff

group & member: NCT’s Taeyong

word count: ~18,500 words

↳ 🚨: alcohol-mention, mature theme, explicit language, slow burn, tons of pining. read at own discretion. 

brief synopsis: 

↳ “Why can’t you see that you’ve always had a piece of my heart from the very beginning?”

“He’s late.”

You look up from fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth and cough to ease the prickling tension at the dining table.

“Maybe he’s busy.”

“Sure, he is.” The following scoff is unrelenting, accompanied with a roll of the eyes at the empty seat to your left. “Every day he comes home drunk to no end and with a new girl hanging off his arms like a newly bought accessory from the jeweler’s down the street.

“You’ve barely touched any of your food. Not hungry?”

“I… I thought to wait for him first,” you answer, smiling weakly. “It’s what we do at home.”

“Just eat first, Y/N. Who cares if that loser brother of mine doesn’t come back for dinner?” A manicured finger taps against the table top, two more joining the impatient rhythm drumming onward. “It’s not the first time he’s called a no-show anyway.”

The doorbell rings the very moment the sharp words are spoken, and one of the maids on standby hurries to answer the door while you watch to see who had arrived.

“Eat,” comes the ushering again. “We’re way pass a suitable time to eat and you’ve been here since our afternoon tea at three.”

“If… If you insist.”

Silver fork in hand, you get ready to dig into the cooled carbonara pasta on your plate when a hiccup catches your attention.

“God, you look terrible,” laments the woman sitting at the head of the table upon hearing the impending footsteps. “And what a surprise. No accessory this time, little brother?”

The slump in the middle of the two maids who had carried him in shakes his head and giggles, a bubbling sound that offsets the flushed red of his cheeks and glazed look in his eyes.

You put down the utensil in your hand and nod in greeting, startled when he wiggles away from the maids and tumbles straight onto you.

“Cute!” He presses his face against yours and rubs aggressively, smiling as an arm loops around your shoulders.

“So cute!”

“Taeyong, you little…” His sister snaps her fingers at the two maids. “Get him upstairs and make sure he’s somewhat more sober before coming back down.”

“I’m sorry,” she turns to you with an exasperated sigh, “It’s rare enough that he comes home without any plus ones, but to return smelling of booze and…”

You shake your head before she could finish, waving it off with a light smile.

“I don’t mind.”

Midway through the second round of tea and light snacks after the dinner, one of the maids enters the parlor to inform your host that the Young Master has sobered up somewhat, but will be having dinner up in his room rather that in the company of his sister’s good friend. The excuse of ‘not wanting her to see me looking like shit’ is all too familiar to your ears as you stand up from your seat on the couch. Here it was, the signal for you to leave, and you weren’t ignorant enough to insist on staying when you had spent a large portion of your day in their family home already.

“I should be getting home now,” you say politely. “Thank you for having me over.”

“The pleasure is ours. And I’ll see you next week for Seoul Fashion Week?”

“… No guarantees, but I’ll let you know if I do end up going.”

—

“How was the dinner?”

You look up from your book and nod.

“Okay, I guess.”

“Did he even show up?”

Closing the book, you adjust the covers and extra cushion against your back, pausing before answering your brother.

“He was drunk as usual.”

“I really don’t understand why you still like him,” he scowls. “At this rate you’re not much different from an old toy that’s been tossed aside because the baby’s gone bored of it.”

“Sicheng, I’m trying to read.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” your brother adds before dropping the subject, not in the mood to continue when past arguments have always ended in the silent treatment. “When it all falls apart, you can’t say I didn’t try to convince you beforehand.”

“Okay, you little know-it-all. Have you decided what to wear for next week?”

“I have a set of clothes prepared already,” Sicheng says haughtily, unfazed by the change of subject. “You?”

“I’m not sure if I’ll even go. Maybe I’ll ask Ten to borrow some of his clothes if I do end up going.”

“You’re going to ask Ten for clothes? He’s notorious for not liking it when people ask to borrow his clothes.”

“Why not? In fact, I’ll ask him now.”

“God, you’re so…” Sicheng studies you closely as you reach for your phone and tap along the screen, putting it away after a mere thirty seconds of tapping and clicking.

“Well?”

“He’s grumpy but willing to lend me some clothes,” you say with a grin, “Heh.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes before tossing a thinning grin your way. “We have work tomorrow, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“When?”

“8am,” he says sharply, knuckles rapping against your bedroom door. “Not 9:00, not 8:30, but 8 sharp.”

“Okay,” you grumble, detesting early work calls. “I hear you.”

“I’ve already told your makeup and hair stylists about it, so you can’t use your staff as an excuse to sleep in.”

“Jeez, okay.”

“Also, I hear Ten’s going to be using that same set later, so you can ask him to confirm if he’ll even go to fashion week when you see him.”

“Since when did you become such a nagger? Doyoung must be rubbing off on you.”

Sicheng gives you his signature look of open-mouth, half-glowering glare of disbelief mixed with an awe at hearing what he deemed as the stupidest thing he’d ever heard.

“I am nothing like Doyoung.”

“One overbearing adult in this household is enough, and that adult is not going to be you or me.”

“Mom’s going to riot if she heard you comparing her to an amateur like Doyoung.”

“Oh sure,” you drawl. “As if the standards of an ex-supermodel are all that matter when even she can have her moments of being incorrect.”

“You know what I mean,” your brother finishes. “It’s both due to her influence and our own talent that we’re still employed and favored by designers and the public themselves. She gets more credit than you think.”

“Yeah, yeah. This is precisely why you’re the favorite in this family, Sicheng.”

Confirming the time of work with your brother one last time, the door swings shut again and you sigh deeply while running a hand through your uncombed hair. Clearly the world wasn’t sick of you just yet, the demand for your face in magazine spreads still as strong as ever even when you’d already been under the watch of the camera lens for the past six years and counting.

—

Traffic had been worse than usual, and now the two of you were nearly three hours late, frantic footsteps hurriedly making their way down the hall once you enter the front door to find the photographer who was to take your photos.

“I told you yesterday 8am.”

“My phone didn’t ring,” you hiss, the straps of your sandals biting into the space between your toes as you pick up the pace. “I had an alarm set for at least 7:30, I swear.”

The bickering halts as Sicheng nudges your elbow, bringing your attention to the head photographer clicking through his computer on set. Eyebrows furrowed and mouth tightened to a scowl… there was no getting out easy for this one with a three-hour tardy slip on the line.

“Finally,” he drawls, turning around to face you and Sicheng after taking a sip from the coffee cup next to the mousepad. “The wonder duo shows up right before we call for lunch.”

“There was traffic,” you explain, dipping your head low in apology. “We—”

“Enough, just get to hair and makeup. If I reprimand you two with anything more than a warning, your mother would certainly come for my head to be served on a plate, garnish and all.”

You quickly follow your manager to hair and makeup while Sicheng goes straight to the stylists for a fitting after the quick dismissal. Sometimes it worked in your advantage after all to be the daughter of an ex-supermodel who still had significant influence on the fashion industry.

Hair done and makeup complete, any lingering thoughts fade as you begin making your way out to the cameras, bumping into a figure you hadn’t been expecting to see this early in the day.

“Ten!” you exclaim in surprise, shooting him a warm smile when his eyes meet yours. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until later in the evening.”

“They moved me up when you and your brother were still missing,” Ten laughs, eyes curving to warm crescents. “I’m free now.”

Your lips purse to a pout and he snickers.

“I’ll talk to you later, sweetie. We have to set some ground rules if you’re going to borrow some of my clothes.”

“Alright. See you then.”

Sicheng meets with you ten minutes later and you eye the oversized tan coat he was wearing, not quite understanding why there was also a baseball cap sitting atop his head, hair slightly tousled underneath the headwear.

“A bit big, isn’t it?”

“That’s what I was given,” he retorts, sizing up the white crop top and corresponding tan wide leg pants on you. “And honestly I can say the same about your pants.”

“It’s what I was given.”

Rolling his eyes at you recycling his words, Sicheng pulls you after him and you nearly stumble from the wedge sandals on your feet failing to keep up with the hurried pace of his black sneakers.

“Stop walking so fast!”

“I have long legs and so do you. Keep up.”

The shoot goes by rather quickly, or at least it feels like it didn’t last very long as you face the camera with an arm on your brother’s shoulder. The natural chemistry between family is clear; you readjust your position to match with his in the next few shots, readily tilting your head when directed to and jumping on his back without further thought. Any other male model would have been scared off immediately, but this was your brother after all. The tightly closed eyes, open-mouthed grins and loud laughter echoing around the set all captured on the reel of film, you nearly didn’t hear the final “Cut!” before one of the photographer’s assistants holds up an okay sign to let you know the photoshoot had ended.

“Was… Was it okay?” you ask the photographer, leaning against Sicheng and still wheezing after an intense tickle session. Hopefully your performance had been more than enough to make up for missing the scheduled time to start the shoot.

“Sometimes I fail to believe you two are just siblings,” he comments, clicking through the photos on his computer and zooming in on a shot of Sicheng carrying you on his back. He then switches to one of you and your brother sitting side by side on the floor like dolls on display, gazes alluring at the overseeing lens of the flashing cameras. “Natural talent is something you both exhibited beautifully and now I see why word in the studios claims that your mother actually hadn’t left the industry at all.”

Sicheng mumbles a “thank you” at the elevated compliment and nudges your side, smiling slightly as you give him a thumbs-up in return. Having entered the fashion industry with your brother at the ripe age of fifteen, you certainly didn’t have fame and fortune handed to you right off the bat. Being children of a woman who had walked more catwalks than there were dresses designed per fashion season, the silver spoon that was your supermodel mother only raised expectations from the press and other notable figures in the industry, already labeling you and Sicheng as successors to your mother’s legacy in the fashion world the moment you had started walking on two feet rather than all fours. The lens became a common part of your childhood and even now at age 21 it was still everywhere, capturing moments of you frozen frame by frame to be edited and inserted into the next fashion magazine for the upcoming season’s new collections.

A few more comments are made before the two of you are released, your managers stepping up to discuss any lingering schedules while you grab onto Sicheng’s arm for extra support as you ease out of the wedge sandals constraining your aching feet. Taking them off, you hold the sandals by the straps and hum in delight, your toes cool on the floor’s hardwood tiles.

“If Mom were here she’d scold you until tomorrow for walking around barefoot,” Sicheng scoffs, already switching back to his usual prickliness. “Put the sandals back on.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you tell him, nose high in the air as your managers return, not paying attention to the conversation until feeling the nudge from your brother.

“Let’s go, we’re done here.”

“Wait, I was supposed to meet Ten!”

Grumbling, he follows you around to look for the model in question, and you spot Ten sitting down in front of the camera, head tilted at the prompting from the photographer before the camera begins to flash. You make a mental note of your colleague’s poses, taking in the way he held the bottle of cologne in his hands and the single spray at his long neck. Knowing better than to interrupt, you stand quietly but he gets up midway through a photo anyway, greeting you and Sicheng with a hearty wave.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you begin sheepishly, bowing to the photographer who had called a five-minute break because of Ten. “I can just text you later instead?”

“Nah,” he smirks. “I’d rather talk to you in person, it’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

“Ten, only you have the nerve to get up in the middle of a shoot and the staff would still be okay with it.”

Ten laughs at Sicheng’s comment and brief catching up between the three of you takes place before one of the staff approaches with a black cat in his hands.

“A cat!” Your eyes shine in excitement. “I haven’t done a shoot with animals in forever!”

“It wasn’t warming up to me at first,” Ten explains. “Hopefully it’s feeling better after I did my other batch of photos earlier in the morning when you two weren’t here yet.”

Five minutes already up, the model excuses himself from the conversation as he returns to the set, lying still for the staff member to gently place the cat down by Ten’s left shoulder. The feline turns its head at the sound of the clicker behind the photographer and Ten’s eyes soften as he pets the animal’s head. Another quick pause and the cat is moved from the floor to a surface on higher ground, the model following suit. The slight tilt of his face, chin resting comfortably on the cat’s lithe body, even simple nods to the music playing in the background while gazing into the cameras leave you absolutely enamored at the entire process of the photoshoot. You still had so much to learn and improve on even though you were already not that bad yourself.

“And that’s a wrap, thank you!”

Ten thanks the photographer and the rest of the staff for their hard work, and he mouths for you to wait. Approaching the staff member in charge of the cat, he returns after a moment’s pause holding the feline, and you gasp as he gently places it into your arms.

“I figured you’d want to play with it after we were done.”

“I’ve always wanted a pet,” you say after holding it for a full fifteen minutes. “Figured it’d be nice to have another companion at home besides Sicheng.”

“Get one,” Ten encourages, offering the returned cat to your brother and shrugging when the latter politely shakes his head. “I think a cat suits you.”

“I don’t know if my mother would be open to the idea of—”

“Oh, it’s Taeyong!”

You turn abruptly at hearing the name, nervous as said person walks towards Ten. Sicheng tugs on your arm to go but you stand firm, wanting to at least say hi to Taeyong since he was here and all.

“Work?” Taeyong asks Ten, noticing your presence but forgoing the hello for the cat in Ten’s arms.

“Cute cat.”

“Work with the cat,” Ten corrects him, scratching the feline behind its ears. “Want to pet him?”

“Yes, please.”

“I have to get going,” you speak up, a sense of unease prickling down your back. “See you later, Ten.”

“Are you still borrowing some of my clothes?” Ten asks.

Taeyong finally looks at you and you find yourself tongue-tied, stammering a reply that sounds like a yes in your brain before nodding your head in confirmation.

“My sister wanted to know if you would be attending Seoul Fashion Week,” he begins, quirking an eyebrow in question. “Sounds like you’re going with Ten?”

The insinuation easy to pick up on, you shake your head before Ten can even speak and Sicheng interjects with a taut smile at Taeyong before pulling you aside and away from the fray.

“Sicheng, what the hell?”

“Just because you tell him no doesn’t mean he’ll offer to go with you,” your brother mutters. “I already overheard him asking Kang Miyeon if she’s free.”

The name of your senior strikes a chord and you force a hopeful smile. “At least that means he’ll go, right?”

“Get a grip! Taeyong’s in love with her, not you!”

“They already broke up,” you begin slowly, fingers unconsciously curling together into a fist. “The tabloids haven’t caught them together on camera as of late.”

“People are secretive! Especially someone like Taeyong who has face and knows he’ll get jumped the moment he gets caught with a dating scandal again!” Sicheng rolls his eyes and spins around to face you; you can tell he was trying his best to not lose his temper.

“Pull yourself out before you really get hurt this time.”

“I… I can’t just stop loving him when I’ve loved him for so long already, Sicheng. That’s just impossible.”

—

You’ve had your fair share of dating rumors with multiple celebrities along the path of forging your modeling career, the press honing in on every word you said and every tiny action you made when your first relationship with an actor when you were 18 had gone public. The daughter of an ex supermodel dating a rising young actor had been such a story, or at least it was until said guy was caught locking lips with a fellow model in your same management two days after he had proclaimed his undying love for you on your 19th birthday. Since then, you never went public with another relationship again, tired of the constant questions on how long things would last and what your mother thought of your rumors.

Of course, the press was not to be underestimated, their detective work always finding you when you thought you had it all under wraps. Just recently it was practically their goal in life to determine whether you were romantically involved or not with Lee Taeyong, one of the members of the playboy quartet currently wreaking havoc amongst the entire female population of the city with their dashingly good looks and wealthy upbringings after the man had showed up to an evening ball with you as his so-called “date” for the night.

Ten, another member of said grouping who also happened to be a close friend of yours, giggled like mad at finding out you harbored the same infatuation with Taeyong as did the numerous female readers who had read the magazine that had done the spread of the four “Golden Boys”, even offering a helpful word of advice to move on from Taeyong to spare yourself the rejection before even giving the confession. But love worked unpredictably and lowered its head to no one, hence the slap on the face only stung more when you found out he had only approached you to get closer to one of the fellow models signed under your company. 

Miss Kang Miyeon, like many of the female models just entering the industry back then, looked up to your mother greatly and was no doubt nicer to you than she should have, warm smiles and offering tips on how to correct your walk and strike poses that were unique yet carried the elegance that was true to the name of what was ‘high fashion’. The two of you had gotten close enough to the point of sisterhood, but a sly sabotage at Sicheng from her end to win a spot on a catwalk your mother was also scheduled to walk on before her imminent retirement had cut the growing stalk that was your first friend outside of the family. Left to shreds, the budding friendship shrunk into an indifferent senior/junior separation at work. She had even cut off all ties with Taeyong, convinced he loved you more because of your elevated silver spoon in terms of modeling when she had to work from the bottom up.

Naturally, Taeyong hadn’t received the rejection well, and that was when you received the rejection for your unspoken confession, his signature deathly glare and furious growl crushing your heart into a million pieces of shattered glass. Of course, this hasn’t stopped you from trying to get back on his good graces and has never stopped you even when it would be better to simply move on to spare yourself any more misery at the lack of reciprocation for your feelings.

“Hey, are you ready?”

“Yes!” you call out, glancing over your reflection in the mirror one last time. Hair freshly washed and makeup lightly applied save the darker than usual eyeliner, you reach for the black Heich Blade jacket draped on your chair just as your brother walks in.

“Sicheng, you look great!”

Decked in a black Charm’s turtleneck, suspenders hooked on his leather jeans followed with a splash of color from a pair of forest green sneakers, he angles his round glasses down at the black tie-dye Saint Laurent shirt tucked within your black belted pencil skirt. A disapproving click of tongue follows the confirmation of the puppy socks on your feet while you put the black jacket over your shirt.

“What’s your concept, angst-ridden teenager who volunteers at animal shelters on Fridays?”

“These are Ten’s clothes, so I’m telling him you called him an angst-ridden teenager when we see him later.”

His fingers snap in confirmation. “I knew that shirt and jacket weren’t yours. Why can’t you wear your own clothes again?”

You ignore his question and gesture at the two pairs of shoes contending to be worn out. “Should I wear the combat boots or the heeled ankle ones?”

“You know Mom’s going to kill you if she knew you wore combat boots of all things at a fashion show.”

You groan at the disapproval, switching out your purple bedroom slippers to the pair of black ankle boots that had been mocking you since you woke up to get ready.

“Fine.”

“Ten’s going to say you look better than him in his own clothes,” Sicheng begins, heading downstairs and making sure you were out of the house first since you had a reputation of turning tail last minute. “He’ll either burn these after you return them to him or let you keep them.”

“I hope I can at least keep the jacket,” you giggle as the family driver opens the limousine door for you. “I like how snuggly this is and all my things fit in the pockets.”

Sicheng peeks into the front pocket and rolls his eyes at seeing the phone and wallet nestled safely within.

“Don’t get caught scrolling through your phone during the show.”

“They can’t catch me when I find myself a seat in the back.”

“No can do, we have front row. You know Mom would never arrange for us to be seated in the back when it comes to attending fashion shows.”

◇

At least twelve cameras flash in your faces the moment you and your brother step out of the limousine, accompanied by the bombardment of questions regarding your mother when the two of you make the way over to the red carpet.

“I hate this,” you mutter through gritted teeth, linking an arm around Sicheng.

“Tell me about it,” he replies, bowing after the final shots were taken. You pause for one last photo, holding tightly onto his arm as he weaves through the sea of bodies huddled around the inside of the show venue. Frequent stops are made to talk briefly with photographers you’ve worked with before, and models from other management companies walk up to you several times to give their greetings and start a conversation about your attendance after three years of playing hooky. Even representatives from your favorite brands stop by to offer a greeting, the most memorable being the rep from Charm’s who basically wouldn’t let Sicheng go once spotting your brother among the sea of attendees for today’s show.

“Hey, you look better in my clothes than I do.”

You turn around and giggle at the frown on Ten’s face.

“Love the look, by the way.”

“Tell me about it,” he says dramatically, adjusting the black tie at his collar. “There’s always pressure to look good because that’s how I get more jobs.”

“It’s not like you need it,” the figure to his right jokes. “You’re loaded.”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Some of us here actually can have fun making our hobbies our careers.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy my job as a model,” Doyoung scowls, his lanky figure not at all pleased at the diss. “I could use more popularity from the jobs that you don’t take, you know.”

“I’ll put in a good word to all the photographers I deny since you like picking after my remains so much.”

Their bickering only amplifies the buzz around you, your head spinning at the overstimulation of the immediate environment.  

“Three years since I was last here and it seems like each show only grows in numbers per year.”

You squeeze your brother’s fingers gently. “Thanks for not leaving me to attend this by myself.”

“You’re my sister,” he says rather pointedly. “Who else am I going to be there for if not you?”

“Aw, Sicheng.”

The lights dim and guests begin filing to their designated seats, you and Sicheng thankfully next to Doyoung and Ten at front row. A brief introduction starts off the first day of the week-long event and you watch keenly at the models making their ways down the catwalk. It’s all too familiar: the clicking heels, cameras and flashing lights while models sashayed down the stage in the outfit the stylist had given them, hurried returns backstage to change, not to mention chaos from last-minute touchups on hair and makeup. The front row seat becomes twice as enjoyable—legs crossed, jacket covering your lap as you fiddle with your phone underneath.

“You’re not very good at being discreet.”

“Shh,” you shush at hearing Ten’s chiding. “I’m just checking my messages.”

“Sure, sweetie. And I’m so excited to be here when I could be out dancing at the club.”

You blow a raspberry at Ten and try to focus on the models and the clothes they were showing, but it is difficult when you were more excited about returning to the mobile game still running on your phone. Fleeting gazes between overlooking the men and women who walked back and forth down the catwalk and what was underneath your jacket, you cross your arms and lean your head against Ten’s shoulder, his cough failing to edge you back to your side of the personal space bubble.

“Don’t get caught, then.”

He turns his head to speak softly to Doyoung, careful to not move too much in case you slip and hit your head. Thoughts to eavesdrop on their conversation flicker briefly in your mind but manners stop you in your tracks.

“No, I’m out of energy already?”

The outburst catches the attention of the guests down the line and some behind your row, and you quickly lock the screen. Hurriedly sitting up straight, you pretend as if nothing had happened just now and return your attention to the show.

“Told you so,” Ten mutters under his breath, nudging at your forearm. “Behave.”

Thankfully the runway show ends sooner than expected, giving you the opportunity to wiggle away from Ten and Doyoung, Sicheng already somewhere off on his own as you leave the audience seats and head for the bathroom. Sitting for such a long period had you fidgety and when you got anxious, you usually ended up needing to go to the bathroom almost immediately after.

Business completed, your path back to Ten and Doyoung comes to a halt when you hear two raised voices. An angry-looking Kang Miyeon brushes past you without notice and pushes you aside, nearly causing you to lose footing had the steady pair of outstretched hands not kept you upright.

“Are you alright?”

You turn around, at a loss for words at the prompted question.

A grunt and Taeyong removes his hands.

“I guess I did something I shouldn’t have.”

“Taeyong, wait!”

He stops and you panic.

“I… You came to Fashion Week with Miyeon?”

“Yeah. I saw you with Sicheng on the red carpet.”

Tongue-tied, you fumble for a new topic to continue the conversation when you hear footsteps clicking down the hall.

“What’s going on here?”

Sicheng walks towards you, his arm linking around the crook of yours.

“Don’t you have better things to do than get my sister in trouble?”

“Sicheng, he wasn’t—”

“Goodbye,” Taeyong snaps, barely sparing another glance at you as he pushes through Doyoung and Ten, the pair catching sight of Sicheng and apparently followed to gauge at the spilled tea.

“Yeah, hi, Taeyong,” Doyoung replies cheerily, a frown instantly forming on his face once Taeyong is out of sight.

“Y/N, I literally don’t know what you see in him, he’s the rudest motherf—”

Forgoing a response to Doyoung, you notice there’s an extra person standing behind them, eyeing Ten questioningly before he catches your gaze and pats the newcomer warmly on the back.

“Don’t think you’ve met Jaehyun yet, sweetie. Idiot practically sprinted over when I told him you were here today.”

“I mean, you’re so good in front of the camera,” Jaehyun stammers, sentences incoherent while avoids your gaze. “Not saying you’re usually bad because that’s obviously your job, but I think it’s very cool that you can be so good at… at being in pictures. Even if you aren’t working today.”

“Our mother would disown us if we couldn’t even take a decent mug shot,” Sicheng quips, unimpressed by the jumbled introduction. “It’s comes with being raised by a supermodel, mister Golden Boy.”

Jaehyun ducks his head, ears reddening at hearing the title from the magazine spread that had first labeled him with that term alongside Ten and Taeyong..

“By the way,” Ten butts in, sensing the budding tension between them and switching gears to another topic. “How’s your mother? I overhead Sicheng ranting to a Charm’s assistant that you two are going to attend the remainder of SFW?”

You glance at your brother in surprise.

“What? Since when?”

“Mom’s flying to France tomorrow but promised beforehand that she’d attend,” Sicheng answers in an explanatory manner. “So she tossed us out to the dogs to save her own trip from falling apart at the chase of paparazzi.”

“Why didn’t I find out earlier?”

“I forgot to tell you,” your brother shrugs. “Now you know.”

“You make it sound like your mother doesn’t care about you,” Jaehyun begins cautiously.

“My sister and I had to learn how to navigate the fashion world on our own since we were young,” Sicheng deadpans. “Having her name to use as a bonus point during our go-sees was already the best advantage we could ever get as rookies on the runway.”

“We all have our own stories, Jaehyun,” Ten fills in helpfully. “Sicheng’s not trying to snub you on purpose.”

“Sorry,” your brother mumbles after realizing he had perhaps stepped over the line. “Our family is complex and I don’t expect everyone to understand it from the get-go.”

“No worries,” Jaehyun nods. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

The conversation eventually dying down, Jaehyun finally meets your gaze head-on and smiles a dimpled smile that doesn’t quite mask his nervousness at talking with you.

“So, um… after the shows are all over… one of my friends is hosting a party at the end of the week and I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

Your mouth drops in surprise and Ten’s ears twitch at the mention of a party.

“What party?”

“Lucas crashed his dad’s yacht in the docks the other day and he’s… it’s so ridiculous, he’s hosting a farewell party for the totaled yacht.”

A snort leaves your mouth before you know it and Doyoung jumps in, eager to get in on a share of the pie.

“Listeners get an invite too, yeah?”

“Sure. Knowing Lucas, he won’t mind who shows up as long as somebody shows up.”

“I’d like to go,” you begin, looking at Sicheng. “Wanna go?”

“I’ll pass. I’m going to catch up on my games.”

You turn to Jaehyun, not sure how to phrase your impending question.

“Um, do you… do you know if…”

Ten coughs knowingly and asks your question without making it too obvious.

“The rest of the gang will be there too, I’m assuming?”

“Yeah…” Jaehyun begins counting off his fingers. “Me, you, Lucas, Taeyong, Mark’s a maybe, Johnny and Jungwoo have yet to RSVP but I’m sure they’ll end up saying yes…”

The answer more than satisfactory, you enthusiastically agree to show up at the farewell yacht party and ignore the quiet mumble of “shameless” from Sicheng, the thought of seeing Taeyong at the party happily bringing a skip to your step as you follow Ten around to talk to the designers preparing for this evening’s show.

—

The party was apparently invitation-only, but the host greets you with enthusiasm when you inform him that Jaehyun had told you about it. Yukhei (or Lucas as everyone called him) provided a bit of background for holding this party as he showed you around the enormous mansion that he called home, pumping a fist in the air to commemorate a year and two months with his father’s yacht before it died under his hands. The story more comical with his exaggerative reactions, you apologize for the crashed yacht on his behalf and he grins, deeming you cool enough to stay and exchanging numbers to invite you on future hangouts with him and the rest of the crew. As expected of the fourth Golden Boy in the quartet.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

You turn around at the base of the stairs connecting the upper and lower floors and smile widely.

“Johnny! How’s it going?”

Johnny takes your hand, kissing your fingers before breaking to a warm smile. 

“Good. How’ve you been?”

“Alright. By the way, I didn’t see you at SFW.”

A tale of miscommunication between his manager and the travel agency had apparently delayed his return to Seoul, and Johnny excuses himself briefly before returning with two glasses of champagne, the bubbly beverage tickling your stomach as you down half the glass in one gulp.

“You’re not cold?” he asks, taking in the olive-green romper and your most comfortable pair of block heel sandals. “It’s a bit chilly today.”

“I’m good. If I need extra clothes, I’m sure Lucas will be more than willing to lend me a hoodie to wear.”

Johnny suggests moving to the living room rather than lingering on the stairs and you nod, plenty of people already present, ifferent threads of conversation exchanged between groups of twos and threes. House staff zip through each small group to serve champagne and other bite-sized snacks; those who weren’t talking lounged on the couches with red cups in their hands. A few recognizable faces here and there, but otherwise you didn’t know anyone else at this party besides the fellow model that was Johnny Seo.

“Where’s Ten? Jaehyun said he’ll be here.”

Johnny shrugs. “Maybe in the pool out back? I haven’t gotten to mingle since I just got here twenty minutes before you did.”

You make a pit stop at the kitchens before heading out to the pool, dropping off your emptied glass of champagne and picking up another one from the refreshments table. The red cups on the side would do well for a mixed concoction later, which you make a mental note of as you maneuver around the mansion. Upon careful observation, the layout reminded you quite a bit of the place your mother owned in Vegas. Only difference here is that there were more girls in the hallways and almost all the rooms on the upper floors were already occupied with those hooking up or inhaling fumes of questionable scents that you weren’t interested in at all. No sign of Ten inside, so you suppose Johnny was right in that Ten might be in the pool out back after all.

Pulling open the glass door that led to the pool, you spot Ten and Doyoung by the chaise lounge chairs scattered around the bleached waters. Doyoung is the first to notice you via the champagne glass in hand and he raises his own when you approach them.

“When are the two of you ever not together?”

Ten grins and you take a sip of your champagne after clinking glasses with the two of them, the conversation drifting from details regarding Ten being the one who can’t seem to stay away from Doyoung to Ten daring Doyoung to cannonball into the pool since he was already perfectly prepared for a lap around with his swim trunks and conveniently waterproof navy tee.

“The water’s cold,” he complains. “I’m not going in even if I got paid to do it.”

“Join him,” Ten smirks, gesturing for you to make a lap as well.

“I’m not dressed properly but I’ll keep you company on the edge if you’d like,” you tell Doyoung, who grudgingly gives in as he takes off his tee and throws it smack at Ten’s face before heading for the pool. Groaning in frustration, he slides into the cold water and shouts profanities, raising a fist at Ten for convincing him to do such a thing.

“Make a lap around,” Ten yells from his lounge chair, adding a circling motion with his index finger for emphasis. “You’ll get warmed up that way.”

You giggle at their banter and take off your sandals, placing them to your left as you sit and dip your feet into the water, wiggling your toes at the cooling sensation.

“By the way, have you seen Taeyong?”

“Oh, sorry sweetie, he’s not coming,” Ten answers. “Said he’s helping his sister with some marketing decisions for her clothing line. Something about her not liking the model he suggested, I think.”

“Miyeon?” you ask with a sigh.

“Who else?”

Not answering the proposed rhetorical question, you kick aimlessly and nearly fall in at the sudden tap on your shoulder.

“Hi there.”

You look up, scooting over to give Jaehyun space. He leans back, arms taut at the edge of the pool while his legs splash at the water.

“How’s the water?”

“Alright,” you shrug. “But I’m not dressed properly for a swim.”

“I’m not either, but clearly we’re still able to enjoy the pool, yeah?”

You smile, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.”

He grins in return, reaching his arms into the pool and splashing up water your way. A mini water fight commences and after five minutes you find yourself pulled into the pool after Jaehyun, fully soaked from head-to-toe as he circles around you in delight.

“Jung Jaehyun, I hope you know I didn’t bring a change of clothes!”

“Then I guess we’re both going to have to walk around soaking wet.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and head for the stepladder, pulling yourself out of the pool and squeezing water out of your hair while a towel drapes over your shoulders.

“Thought you might need this.”

You turn and open your arms, Ten squirming in distaste when you get water over his black tank top.

“Sometimes I’m too nice to you, sweetie.”

“You love me.”

Ten rolls his eyes and tosses another towel behind you, a soaked Jaehyun catching it with one hand.

“What happened to keeping Doyoung company by the pool?”

You smile awkwardly and Ten shakes his head. “Jaehyun distracted you, huh?”

“Knowing Doyoung, he’s found someone to chat up,” Jaehyun laughs, gesturing at the tall lanky figure sitting on a lounge chair on the opposite side of the pool. Engaged in an animated conversation with a girl in a navy bikini, it didn’t seem like he had regretted his decision to go for a swim as she pulls him up and they enter the water again.

“See?” Jaehyun reiterates. “He has a magnet to him.”

“You two should consider getting a change of clothes,” Ten suggests. “I’m heading in for another glass of champagne.”

“I actually have an extra set of clothes in my car,” Jaehyun offers. “How about it?”

You nod furiously, not wanting to remain in wet clothes.

“Yes, please.”

Weaving back inside and out to his white Ferrari parked two blocks away, he hands you a plain white tee when you reach his car, the dry shirt topped with a dark-green plaid button-up that was cut at the elbows, hemline likely long enough to cover your thighs.

“I only have one pair of jeans but I can call someone to bring you a pair of shorts or something?”

“That’s fine.”

He nods and unlocks the car so you can change inside.

“There’s a plastic bag in there somewhere for your wet dress, I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

The door closes and you quickly change out of your romper, careful to not drip too much water on the backseat while you look for a bag, Once you find one, you drop the wet garment inside and tie it shut. Pulling the clean shirt and plaid top over your chilled body, you note the sleeves stop at your forearms and the hem drops almost to your knees, almost but not quite there yet. As a model, you were taller than the average female, but still felt engulfed in Jaehyun’s clothes when he was only a few inches taller in height.

A knock sounds on the passenger side and you roll down the window, mumbling a thank you at the pair of shorts passed through and rolling the glass back up before changing into the bottoms that are just a bit loose.

“Do you maybe have a belt?” you ask curiously as you tuck the white tee into the shorts. “It’s a bit loose around my waist.”

“Should have one in the trunk,” Jaehyun replies, opening the trunk of his sports car. “Hold on.”

You wonder why he would have a belt of all things in his trunk, but gratefully take the given accessory as you loop it around your shorts and tighten the space around your waist.

“You look nice,” he speaks up, giving you a once-over. “Not saying you didn’t look nice in your own clothes, but you look…”

“What,” you probe on, noticing that he started to mumble. “Do I look ugly?”

“No, not at all,” he blurts. “You just… you look extra pretty wearing my clothes.”

“Oh.”

“Back to the pool or would you rather talk inside?” Jaehyun asks with a soft dimpled smile.

“Pool is fine,” you answer, feeling already much better after the disappointing news of Taeyong’s no-show. “Just don’t push me in this time.”

—

You don’t realize when you passed out, nose twitching at the smell of cigarette smoke drifting your way. The smoky scent is unpleasant to the nostrils as your eyes squint in the dimness of the room. Unable to make out anything in the first two seconds of consciousness, your arm grazes against the vibration of the mobile device that slipped out of your pocket, and you take a deep breath, forcing your eyes open to take the call.

“Hello? Oh, sorry, you’ve got the wrong number.”

Hanging up, you get up from the bed you were sleeping on and step out, head buzzing ferociously from the aftereffect of having consumed too much alcohol. It is 1am and the villa is void of human presence. The party must have ended earlier when you were knocked out, all the other guests already home at a reasonable hour to prepare for the following day’s work.  

“N-No, not there…”

The sound of soft moans accompanied with low grunts catches your attention. Against your better judgment, you make your way out to investigate, only to find the man you had been wanting to see entangled with some girl you didn’t recognize. Lips locked, one hand trailing through her blonde pixie cut… you slowly back up until he shifts his gaze from her face to your presence from his peripheral. A smirk builds upon the corners of his mouth and the hand in her hair trails down from her head to her hips, squeezing roughly while keeping a firm eye on you while still touching her. His teasing yet provocative gaze irritating to watch, you end up bumping into the host himself in your attempt to get away.

“Hey, you’re still here.”

“I’m sorry,” you smile, flustered at being practically the only guest still here. “I passed out and didn’t realize everyone else had already left.”

“It’s cool. Do you need a ride home?”

“Um, no, I don’t think so, I’ll just—”

“I’ll take her home.”

A flash of a figure whizzes past and you flinch at the hand resting on your shoulder, recognizing the thin fingers at first glance.

“Taeyong, you don’t…”

“That alright with you, Lucas?” The grip on your shoulder tightens and you allow yourself a glance at his face. Stoic as usual, albeit the glow along his cheeks spoke otherwise.

“Of course,” Lucas nods, flamboyantly gesturing towards the front door. “Lovely having you over, miss Y/N, and please get home safely.”

Once goodbyes are exchanged, Taeyong mumbles for you to follow, leading the way towards the black Lamborghini Aventador parked right outside the mansion’s driveway.

“After you.”

You nod in thanks at the opened door on the passenger side; he closes the door after you before getting into the driver’s seat. Seat belt check and he is already out on the streets, the ride home thick with silence. Not that you didn’t know what to say, but you’re careful to not bring up any sensitive topics, namely the girl you had seen him kissing or even Miyeon.

“This is it, yeah?”

You look up and see the familiar gates of your home, slightly disappointed that your time in his car is already over.

“Yes.”

A curt nod and he unbuckles his seat belt, getting out to open the door for you and even offering a hand as you step out.

“Taeyong, I thought you weren’t going to come to the party.”

“Changed my mind.” He pauses, glancing at the extended sleeves of Jaehyun’s dark green plaid top.

“Isn’t that Jaehyun’s shirt?”

“He let me borrow his clothes after pushing me into the pool.”

Taeyong nods warily and places a hand on the ceiling of his vehicle as he gestures at the looming estate up ahead.

“Why…” You bite your lips, not sure where your boldness was coming from. “Why did you choose to drive me back?”

“I found you passed out next to Ten and Doyoung when I got here at around…. 9pm? Moved you upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms but didn’t know when you’d come to so I stayed after everyone else left.”

“But the girl… you and her in the kitchen…”

“It’s nothing to be concerned about,” he says dismissively, “I have no business with her other than temporary fun at the spur of the moment.”

“Are… Are you still mad at me for your breakup with Miyeon?”

His eyes narrow at the abrupt question and you laugh it off.

“I must be drunk; I don’t know what came over me to ask such a—”

“Not anymore.”

You pause, and he coughs into his sleeve.

“I don’t… I don’t hate you for it when she was the one who jumped to conclusions.”

Gasping, you clasp your hands together and he studies your face in amusement.

“You thought I was mad at you?”

“I…  I thought that was why you kept giving me the cold shoulder! Because you were mad at me for causing the breakup between you and Miyeon!” Your giggles echoing in the silence of the night; what comes next is a surprise for you and Taeyong both as you lean forward to press your lips against his cheek.

“Thank you,” you whisper happily. “Thank you for not hating me.”

He dips his head low, eyes scanning over the dark green plaid top you were wearing.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You lift a hand goodbye, a growing smile playing along your lips as you return home for a well-deserved eight hours of sleep.

He never said he hated me, which I still have just as much of a chance as I did before.

Morning rolls in quicker than expected, and the first thing you see upon opening your eyes is a text message from none other than Taeyong himself, an invitation to his house for tea and maybe even dinner if you had the time.

“Don’t go.”

“Are you snooping through my phone again?” you ask, placing the black lace choker around your neck.

“He’s just using you to get back at her,” Sicheng scoffs as he picks through your closet. “Surely you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Not in the mood to press on, your brother sighs and gives his two cents on what to wear to an afternoon tea, opting for you to go in a light blue off-the-shoulder chambray dress and beige espadrilles.

“Bring me back a cake if you can.”

You shake your head. “Only if you come with.”

“Then no thanks. Have fun and don’t come into my room when you get back; I’m gaming.”

—

“Hey, it’s you!”

“Oh… hello,” you say in surprise at seeing the eager grin on Lucas’ face. “Are you here for tea?”

“Yeah, man.” He opens the door wider and helps you take your bag. “Taeyong’s sister makes the best cakes.”

“Oh, it’s Y/N!”

You find yourself in the company of Ten and Jaehyun, Johnny with the promise of arriving a.s.a.p. after a photoshoot and one of Lucas’ friends in lieu of Doyoung. Jungwoo, he said his name was.

“You came,” the familiar voice says as tea and a platter of bite-sized sandwiches is placed down on the table.

“Taeyong, where’s the cake stand?” Ten asks. “I want cake.”

“We’re making it, have some patience.”

You take a seat wherever there’s room (conveniently next to Jaehyun), and light conversation makes it way around the circle, topics ranging from Lucas’ farewell yacht party last night to the earlier Seoul Fashion Week. All items you can chime in on as the guys enjoy their tea and sandwiches while the tower of cakes was still m.i.a.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” you speak up. “I forgot to bring the clothes you lent me, I’ll get those back to you as soon as possible.”

“It’s cool,” Jaehyun smiles. “I’m in no rush to get them back.”

“What’s this clothes exchange?” Lucas smirks. “Jaehyun let you borrow his clothes?”

“Idiot shoved her into the pool and she had to get a change of clothes,” Ten explains. “Nothing like the sort of things your dirty mind was assuming.”

Slightly disappointed, Lucas shrugs and Jungwoo nearly chokes on his sandwich when Lucas not-so-subtly extends the offer to give you an exchange of clothes without needing to shove you into a pool. The innuendo easy to pick up, you shift your focus onto the half-empty cup of tea on your saucer and reach for the teapot when Jaehyun beats you to it, offering a dimpled smile as he refills your cup.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“No problem.”

“Cake! Cake!” Ten jumps up from his seat at the three-tier cake stand set down before him and grabs everything off the top tier, ignoring the scowls and murmurings of being a snob as he stuffs his face with the sweets he’d been craving for so long.

“Tart?”

You look up to the offered lemon tart and nod, mumbling thanks to Taeyong as he hands you a lemon tart along with a few of the strawberry macarons. One bite of each is enough to send you directly into pastry heaven, any concern about your calorie intake for the sake of dieting tossed out the window.

“It’s delicious, Taeyong.”

A rare smile lights up on his face, one you don’t see often. 

“I made that myself.”

“Did you now?” Ten marvels, grabbing another off the stand while at it. “I didn’t know you bake.”

“I’m working on it as an aside to my usual hobby of cooking,” Taeyong says while nibbling at a walnut scone.

“Nope, this is dry. The tart’s fine though, I hope?”

“Yes,” you confirm, Ten following suit. “It’s perfect.”

He clasps his hands and gets up without another word, sprinkling confusion into the circle before returning with a red box and placing it before you.

“What’s this?” you ask curiously.

“Open it,” Jungwoo encourages. “I think it’s moving.”

“Moving?”

The doorbell rings as you ponder over the box and in walks Johnny and Taeyong’s ex.

“Bumped into Miyeon on my way here and extended the tea invitation,” Johnny informs the host and his guests. “Don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” Taeyong says crisply, shooting a more-than-enthusiastic grin at Miyeon. The model barely glances his way, mumbling brief greetings before taking note of your presence.

“Oh, hello, Y/N. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

You put on the best smile you had and nod.

“The feeling is mutual, Miyeon.”

“Tea and cakes are for the taking,” Ten breaks in, no doubt sensing the sudden tension and attempting to shoo it away for the sake of camaraderie. “And these pastries, Taeyong made them himself.”

“Still lacking,” Taeyong smiles, turning your way again. “And you haven’t opened my gift yet.”

“Oh, right.” You reach for the ribbon at the top and pull it off, opening the lid to reveal a small black kitten that is the most adorable little thing, its copper eyes staring curiously up at you before letting out a single meow.

“This one,” Taeyong wiggles a finger at the black kitten, “Was the last in its litter at a family friend’s place and she reminded me of the one Ten was working with at his photoshoot. You were there too, I recall.”

“Yes.” You gently scoop up the kitten from her box and gently scratch at her ears, the little feline purring in delight at your soft touch.

“Is this kitten… is it really for me?”

“She’s yours if you want her.”

You loosen your hold and watch as she clambers over laps, stopping before Jaehyun and batting tiny paws at his fingers before jumping onto the table with the teapot and cakes.

“Sicheng is going to love her.”

“What a nice gift,” Miyeon smiles curtly. “You’re so kind, Taeyong.”

He eyes Miyeon and leans over to take your hand in his, grasping your fingers tightly.

“Anything for my girlfriend, you know. Whatever she wants, she will get without question.”

—

In your head, you told yourself Taeyong called you his girlfriend because he genuinely liked you.

No one had been expecting it. Even now, you find it hard to believe the change in status for yourself whenever you received lavish gifts and invitations to join him and his friends plus other big names out for dinner or other social gatherings. The press had eaten it up like starved dogs, rapidly flashing their cameras while drilling you about the story of how you’d gotten together and other probing details about your relationship with him. There were only so many ways to say how grateful you were at having your feelings returned and describe how happy you had become since then, hence you’d offer only the most minimum of details whenever the topic was brought up.

Sicheng openly confronted the lack of care for your feelings upon first hearing the news, but dropped it at seeing the eager look on your face at any mention of Taeyong; the contents of the moving box you’d brought home proved useful to distract him instead. The kitten (given the name Luna courtesy of his not-so-hidden love for Sailor Moon) served as the perfect distraction from words of encouragement to break things off and you loved the adorable midnight munchkin to pieces. You hadn’t thought Taeyong would remember you had been there when Ten brought over the cat during his work.

Of course, not everyone let the announcement of your new relationship go that easily, the biggest protestor coming from none other than Jaehyun, whom you still owed the set of clothes you had borrowed during Lucas’ yacht party.

◇

“Hey, didn’t know you’d be here.”

Jaehyun looks from up the reserved table at the seafood restaurant and nods curtly.

“Ten invited me.”

“And so I did,” comes the jolly voice that follows the tap on your shoulder. “Is Taeyong joining you, sweetie?”

“He said he’s busy,” you answer. “Next time, though.”

“Order anything you’d like,” Ten announces as he flips open the menu. “My treat.”

“Whatever’s the most expensive then, since you’re paying.”

Throughout the meal, you notice Jaehyun’s aloofness doesn’t go away for a second. Only offering one-word responses whenever you asked him questions and even ignoring you altogether for Ten, the latter strapped in the middle with nowhere to go as he juggled between the two of you for the sake of preventing a fight from breaking out.

“Thanks for treating,” you say when the party of three finishes up. “The shrimp was really good.”

“Jaehyun recommended this place, so I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You glance at Jaehyun, who refuses to say a word until the outburst of Ten being late to an afternoon work call renders you losing the ride you had arrived with.

“Drive her back, will you? I’m going to be late for work at this rate.”

Silence resumes its hold and Ten waves goodbye without waiting for a reply, the awkwardness between you and Jaehyun prickling.

“Um… I can get back home myself if it’s too much trouble,” you speak up. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“I can drive you back,” he says crisply. “Come on.”

The valet brings forth Jaehyun’s white Ferrari after a moment’s notice and you get into the vehicle, nodding your thanks at his opening of the passenger side for you before he entered the driver’s seat and shifted gear, driving off with you in tow.

“So why the cold shoulder suddenly?”

“Not sure what you mean.” The car rolls to a stop at a red light and he turns to you with a rather forced smile. “I’m not being cold.”

“I thought we were friends, Jaehyun.”

The engine quiets down and Jaehyun scoffs.

“Friends don’t ignore genuine advice to wake up from the dream that is Taeyong actually liking you.”

“What is with—”

“He’s just using you to get back with Miyeon!” His hands slam down on the steering wheel, a heavy sigh echoing within the car. “Literally everyone knows he’s only using you to provoke her and it’s really—”

“They’re not together,” you intercept, voice lowered. “He told me so.”

“Men are liars, Y/N.”

“Are you saying you’re a liar then?”

Jaehyun glances at you with a pitied softness.

“I’m not as good as I want to be, but I’m trying.”

The light shifts to green and a revving engine takes off down the road, stopping once the gates of your mansion-sized home come into view.

“I hope you can find happiness with someone who genuinely cares about you, Y/N,” he finishes. “As a friend, I think that’s the least you deserve.”

—

Jaehyun’s words remain afloat in the sea of consciousness that is your fretting mind, and they don’t seem to relinquish their hold no matter how hard you try to dismiss it as pure paranoia. Every relationship has its ups and downs; it is simply a matter of willpower and active effort to communicate any troubles and work them out between the two of you. Taeyong wasn’t the most vocal person, but he still made efforts to make you happy with gifts and showed up to dates. You were happy when you got to spend time with him and made sure he knew it, mouth nearly aching from how widely you’d grin whenever he called and asked for you to go out with him. Surely he also felt the same with you if you were still together for so long.

But the nagging feeling always lingered in the back of your head, informing you that this was something too good to be true. That it wasn’t genuine, that you were only being used to get back at his ex… a part of your brain was so sure that this was all a hoax. Ongoing anxiety and paranoia had spun your feelings into a churning mess in your head that would eventually run rampage unless you rein it back into reality.

Which is why when you finally speak up about it one week after your three-month anniversary, you couldn’t fathom why you didn’t detect the burnt bits earlier when the entire pot had been bubbling incessantly the moment the course of things had been set into motion.

“Are you still in love with Kang Miyeon?”

Taeyong doesn’t look up from his phone, fingers tapping on the screen as the sales associate returns with two sets of suits. One a glen check while the other pinstripe, both are in the preferred shade of faded gray that he liked.

“Sir, perhaps these are more to your liking?”

A nod of approval at the sales associate’s question and he tucks his phone away without even sparing a second glance at the offered suits.

“I’ll take both.”

“Taeyong,” you persist. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s an irrelevant one that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

The sales associate stands still, unsure of how to deal with the impending argument until Taeyong gestures for her to ring him up. Tilting his head to show thanks while grabbing the paper bags off the counter, he pulls you after him with his free hand, leaving the store only to enter the one next door for “a more comfortable pair of shoes than boring black heels”.

“Try these,” he says, picking up a pair of brogues from the women’s section. “They look more comfortable than the ones you have on.”

“I… Taeyong, can you listen to me for once?”

“Excuse me, a pair of these for the lady and an extra bag to pack the heels. She’ll be walking out in the new ones.”

“Would you please just stop being such an asshole and let me speak!”

The outburst captures all noise from inside the store and silence lingers before Taeyong turns to you, expressionless as he leads you to an empty chair and take the high heels off your feet. Easing the brogues out of the box, he carefully slips them on for you and offers a hand, which you take before twirling slowly once you’re up from the seat.

“Better than the heels?” he asks quietly. “I can still return them if they don’t fit.”

“They fit,” you mumble, “And they’re more comfortable than the heels.”

A nod and he takes your shoes, thanking the staff for their service as he walks out with you in tow. No words are exchanged until you exit the mall and reach his car, the Aventador waiting underneath the shade of a tree in the parking lot.

“Are you still in love with Miyeon?”

“Yes.”

He opens the door for you and you get in, already expectant of such an answer. The fact that there wasn’t even an inch of hesitation after you finished your words was more than enough to confirm.

“Then why did you say I was your girlfriend that time she came over for tea?”

“I needed leverage.” The car backs out of its parked space and revs off, the rest of the world a blur through the glass at its speed. “I told everyone you were my girlfriend because I wanted her to see that breaking up with me was her loss.”

The word “leverage” a harsher reality than you’d expected, an unpleasant sensation churns at your stomach, traveling upwards to your chest as your hands unconsciously curl into fists during the ride. Not daring to look at Taeyong while he was driving, you keep your head down and it remains in that posture until you feel the softest tap on your shoulder.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I caused any misunderstandings. I know I took you out a few times and now all my friends are sure we’re an item, but—”

A misunderstanding would be the least of your troubles if you hadn’t already invested so much time and emotion into a relationship that only proved false in the end.

“N-No worries.”

“Are you sure?” Taeyong makes a left turn and glances at the mirror before switching to the right lane. “I mean, I can make it up to you.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, voice hardening. “I really shouldn’t have expected much when you’d never explicitly said anything about making things official between us.”

Spotting your brother’s hunched figure by the foot of the steps leading up to your family mansion’s front doors, you wait for the vehicle to come to a full stop before reaching for the handle of the door on the passenger’s side, only to pause as Taeyong unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches towards the backseat, grabbing the bag that held the shoes he had bought for you.

“Here. I hope you like the shoes I got you.”

You step out of the vehicle without taking them and he follows behind, concern rolling off his shoulders in waves.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, forcing down the choked sobs that were threatening to spill any moment. “I just… I think I need to lie down.”

“Well, please take the shoes anyway. A token of my apology for not making things clear between us, if you will.”

He extends the shopping bag and you take it from him against your better judgment. A thin smile follows, the gesture revealing little about his true thoughts as per usual.

“Goodbye, Taeyong.”

Taking the cue to leave, he nods and hops back into his Lamborghini Aventador, engine revving as the black convertible speeds off into the distance. You don’t look back, and Sicheng stares in confusion at the sight of your figure approaching the gate.

“Luna, look who’s back early.”

Quick glances at the things in your hands and two fingers scratch behind the kitten’s right ear. “How was your date with Taeyong?”

The tears come rushing down your face like a waterfall, and Sicheng immediately helps you inside, placing Luna down and guiding you sit while he fishes a box of tissues from underneath the coffee table.

“What happened, why are you crying?”

You shake your head, heart aching at the reality of your utopia crumbling away from its high pedestal.

“I’m stupid.”

“What, no, you’re not stupid.”

“I’m stupid,” you repeat, sniffling through your tears. “I’m so stupid for realizing just now that everything was one-sided from the very beginning.”

—

You decide to stay away from Taeyong and the rest of his usual gang of friends, fearful of spontaneously breaking into tears at seeing any one of them when they reminded you of the one-sided love you had held onto for so long.

Jaehyun didn’t pry, only sending you a text promising that he was always available should you decide for company at any time of the day. Ten and Johnny were harder to avoid since you’d see them occasionally at studios and other sets for pictorials, so you gave a rather washed out lie of being busy with jobs as the primary reason for not hanging out. The same spiel was offered to Lucas whenever he offered invites to parties and casual drinks at the club. Only Sicheng knew why you were distancing yourself—as expected of your sibling—and you made him promise to keep quiet for your sake in case the others asked him about your sudden aloofness.

“Can you walk later?” he asks as he holds onto the dress for your final show of the fall season. “I can call in a sick day for you so management can find a replacement in time before eight.”

“I…” You yawn, fatigue coursing through your veins from having done three photoshoots since five am. “I can… I can do it.”

“Are you sure? Your eyes are droopy and I think it’ll be better for you to just take some time off rather than overwork as a coping mechanism for you-know-what.”

You shake your head, blowing your nose one last time and taking a deep breath.

“I… I’ll just rest now. It’s only seven, I can sneak in an hour of light sleep before doing the show.”

Sixty minutes pass in the blink of an eye and you now stare at your reflection in the mirror in the breakroom backstage of the runaway show you were scheduled for tonight, adjusting the sewn flowers by your shoulders. More red blossoms stitched at the bottom of the gown pool by your feet, the gradation from a nude coloration to blood-red a stunning sight to behold. The floral garment had walked down the runway in Toronto Fashion Week and was provided for the foliage theme of tonight’s show courtesy of your mother, who had pulled several strings to directly receive the piece from the designer himself. Although you weren’t too enthusiastic on the sheerness of the gown, you loved the way the red flowers adorned the bodice and added a blazing elegance to the nudity of the fabric, your stylist nearly weeping on the spot when the gown had been brought in for you to wear and her to work with. Pulling your hair up to let the flowers have room to shine, she then clips accessory pieces to your earlobes for added effect and touches up your eyes, giving you the okay before hurrying out to see when it is your turn to go.

“Y/N, they switched you from sixth to fourth! You’re up next!”

At the sound of the call, you shuffle out, heels clicking while you pick up the ends of the gown to not step on the fabric and tear a hole in the garment itself.

“Ten seconds, standby please!”

Poking your head out from the side, your eyes scan across those in the audience, catching Sicheng by the front with Ten and Johnny. Further down is Jaehyun and you manage to make momentary eye contact. He nods, offering a tiny wave before turning his head to the right at the arrival of Lucas and one more.

You freeze in place when you see Taeyong, blinking twice to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

What is he doing here?

You hear your name being called frantically and turn your attention back to the runway, apologizing for missing your cue. Taking a deep breath, you make your first steps down, lights flashing and camera shutters going off as you maintain your line of sight straight ahead. Audible murmurs of awe can be heard at the sheer gown you were wearing, the sewn-in red flowers swishing and swirling around your clicking heels. So far, so good. So far, so good.

Shifting a glance towards Sicheng’s side of the exhibition hall, you strike a pose and take your place at the center of the catwalk, lifting one end of the gown and preparing your final pose when your eyes catch Taeyong leaning in towards his left. A manicured hand covers her face, but you don’t even need to make a guess when there was only one woman in the world who can make him smile so genuinely like that.

What magic did she cast to get him to look at her and only her? What was it about her that made him never waver from her time and time again?

Mind blank, ears buzzing from the sound of frantically flashing cameras, reality becomes painful to perceive and you feel yourself wobbling in the black four-inch heels on your feet. Soft murmurs building with fear for your sudden show of imbalance, you shake your head and make your last mark on the runway, locking in eye contact with Taeyong as he studies you on the catwalk. Three seconds before he breaks the gaze to turn at Miyeon murmuring into his ear, smiling once more into whatever she had said to him.

That was perhaps when you’d finally had enough of this whole charade, the sharp intake of breath akin to a shrill scream on toppling off the runway. Consciousness slipping from your very reach, it is impossible to fathom that you had just fallen so cleanly off the catwalk you’d set foot on so many, many times before.

◇

“Oh, thank God she didn’t hit her head or damage anything too important.”

You blink your eyes open to the blinding white fluorescents above and wince at the aching pain by your right leg.

“Where…”

Sicheng quickly helps you sit up and rubs two fingers against his temple.

“The hospital. You fell off the runway.”

“Fell off?”

“I don’t know if it was the gown or what, but you fell off and—” He gestures at your completely bandaged right leg. “You were lucky Jaehyun was fast enough to break your fall.”

“Jaehyun… Jaehyun caught me?”

“Yup. He’s waiting outside with the rest of the gang right now.”

“Don’t let anyone in,” you blurt out. “It’s… embarrassing.”

“Mom was frantic when she heard about the fall. She threatened the paparazzi to leave or she’ll set their agencies on fire.”

A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you strain to move your legs, the left one just fine while the right one stung with an aching pain.

“Doctor said your right ankle is broken and there might be some other fractures from heavy force against the muscles,” Sicheng says as he offers you a glass of water, which you deny. “And Jaehyun told us he caught you before you hit your head but missed the timing of your legs toppling over the stage.

“Want me to tell him to come in? I think he’d like to know if he saved you from dying or not.”

“Alright.”

Your brother gets up and Jaehyun enters shortly after exchanging a quick nod with Sicheng, relief settling in his eyes when he sees you conscious and more-or-less in one piece.

“I heard you ran to save me,” you bring up, patting your right leg. “Thank you.”

“I’m only glad I was close enough from the runway,” he jokes, dimple carved into his left cheek. “Otherwise it would’ve been too late.”

“Is…”

“Taeyong was here for a bit before leaving to go home and report to his sister,” Jaehyun answers. “He offers his concerns and wishes you a speedy recovery.”

Your heart sinks at hearing the message and Jaehyun narrows his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you fell because of him.”

“No,” you lie, the memory of his intimacy with Miyeon a barb biting into your skin. “I think I just tripped on the gown. Believe it or not, these types of things happen to even the best of us.”

He drops the topic and eyes the glass of untouched water by the bedside table.

“You really should drink some water.”

“Fine, give it.” You grab the glass from him and take quiet sips, eventually finishing the entirety of the cup under Jaehyun’s supervision.

“Happy?”

“I’ll inform your mother that you’re awake and bring you some food. You’re probably hungry too.”

“Why… Why are you so nice to me?”

He smiles again, a tender gesture that hit too close for comfort.

“We’re friends and I care about you.”

“You… don’t have to be so kind when I had it coming.” The sniffles start up again and before long, trickling streams of tears drip onto the bedsheets. “I…”

Warm arms wrap around you securely and you rest your head against his neck, pouring out the feelings of agony and unrequited love for a man who had never once thought of you as anything more than a tool in his attempt to win back another woman’s heart.

“I loved him, Jaehyun,” you sob into his shoulder. “Why did I not see the signs earlier that he was only using me to win her back?”

◇

“How is she?”

Jaehyun looks up after closing the door behind him.

“You came back.”

Taeyong takes a step forward to enter the room but a firm hand stops him from advancing.

“She just fell asleep,” Jaehyun says quietly. “Leave her be.”

“I just want to see if she’s okay.”

The corners of his mouth twitch and Jaehyun jabs a finger at Taeyong’s shoulder, shoving the latter back.

“You are the last person allowed to say something like that after what happened to her.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Taeyong scowls. “I’m only—”

“My problem? You’re the one who took advantage of her feelings for your own selfish purposes!” Considering the location of the conversation, he lowers his volume before a nurse kicks them out from the hallway. “You treated her like one of your toys and now think you can swing by to ask how she’s doing after using her like that?”

“This is none of your business, Jaehyun.”

“It became my business when I saved her just in time after she fell off the runway. What were you doing back then, huh? Chatting it up with your ex?”

Taeyong falls silent and Jaehyun growls at the lack of a rebuttal.

“I figured.”

“Y/N is my friend too, Jaehyun.”

“If you considered her a friend, then you wouldn’t have manipulated her into thinking you and her were together just to get back with your ex! I know we’re friends and all, but you think you’re so great and almighty when you’re just a guy who can’t differentiate between people who are true to you with people who approach you just because of your background and looks. How is any of that fair to those around you, especially to those who love you?”

Taeyong purses his lips and Jaehyun crosses his arms.

“She genuinely loved you for you and you just trampled on her feelings like they were garbage.”

“I will come see her tomorrow to offer an apology.”

“No, you won't. You don’t have to give her false hope like that when she knows you’re not worth waiting for anymore.”

—

You spend the next six weeks and counting resting up in the hospital for the sake of your injured right leg, unable to walk and let alone work in any other events that had you in mind. Sicheng visited every single day along with Jaehyun and the two became fast friends because of it, juggling between keeping you company with getting to know each other better outside of the four white walls of the medical center. Ten occasionally dropped by amidst work and jokingly offered to keep your name alive if you ended up not being able to model anymore, but switched to a more serious tone the day he brought in the largest fruit basket you’d ever seen, giving his genuine conviction in a full recovery after your accident. Support from friends and family along with medical professionals guiding you every step of the way… the process was made more bearable and you found your leg growing stronger and able to withstand more weight with each consecutive day.

Taeyong didn’t visit much, but he was the last thing on your mind now, the puzzle pieces finally fitting into the picture of him never being interested in you that way at all.

“Look who I brought to visit you.”

You gasp and make grabbing motions at the cat in Jaehyun’s arms, now a little bigger but still as affectionate as it wiggled onto your lap.

“You’re not so small now, Luna!”

“She’s been eating more and growing quite a bit,” Jaehyun smiles. “And I snuck her in, so don’t tell the nurse you saw your cat today.”

The black feline purrs at the scratching behind her ears and you smile at the cuteness that is the midnight-colored Luna.

“Thank you for bringing her, Jaehyun.”

“How’s the leg? Easier to walk now, I hope?”

“I’ve been very diligently practicing with the staff,” you reply, patting the right-side of your hospital bed. “It’s only a matter of time before a full discharge, I think.”

“That’s great to hear and I’m happy for you.”

You pick up more to his words than what meets the eye and probe further until he cracks a dimpled smile.

“You seem happier now and I’m happy that you’re happy,” he says in earnest. “That’s all.”

“Do I?”

“You’re glowing brighter than ever before and it’s blinding.”

“Stop exaggerating,” you laugh, dismissing the cheesy words with a shake of your head. “I was never like that.”

“You were always the brightest star to me, especially so after what’s happened.

“I’ve said too much,” Jaehyun mumbles. “I gotta go.”

“Wait…”

He pauses midway of reaching for Luna, and you reluctantly hand over your cat, watching wistfully as he places her into the white carrying case he had brought her in.

“I just wanted to hold her a bit longer.”

“Maybe I can sneak her in again tomorrow.”

“I’ll hold you to that. And Jaehyun?”

“Yes?”

You take a deep breath and lean forward, dipping your head until your back is fully hunched over to show your sincerity.

“Thank you for visiting every day and giving me strength after my fall.”

“I won’t accept that because it’s what any decent human would do.

“Take care.”

You nod and give an extra wave to the carrying case as he leaves you to rest. Adjusting your position to lay down, you fold your hands over your stomach and gaze upwards at the ceiling.

“Am I imagining things or is Jaehyun even more weird than usual?”

As your thoughts simmer, the sharp vibration of your phone brings you back to reality. You reach over to pick up the call, puzzled at the sound of muffled speech through the other end of the line.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Buzzing and crackles tickle your ear and you’re halfway into hanging up when the high-pitched whine of your name stops you from pressing the button, an identifier for the unknown caller easily coming to mind when you’d been the subject of such whines so many times.

“Is this Taeyong?”

“BIIIINGO.” Slurred mumbling followed by another whine of your name keeps you on the line as you listen to the sound of clinking glasses mixed with low grunts—he was probably out drinking and had called you by mistake.

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, don’t! Don’t hang up, don’t hang up…” A groan and his voice drops to a low mutter, bordering on raspy as his words become less structured.

“I need…. Sorry.”

“What?”

“Sorry,” he repeats, three bubbly giggles and a hiccup. “Sorry to say… I’m sad.”

You sigh, not in the mood to keep him entertained over a booty call.

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

The whining only persists. “Please don’t hang up, please… Head hurts. Eyes hurt.”

“Call someone to pick you up, then.”

“Heart hurts… no help for that.”

A bud of panic settles in but before you can ask for elaboration, you hear one last groan and the phone line goes dead. He probably hung up without knowing he had pressed the end call button.

“Someone will help him,” you mutter, putting your phone away and pushing down the creeping buds of sympathy to go find Taeyong. “I can’t run over to pick him up when I’m in no condition to even walk properly.”

—

The calls from Taeyong become a regular occurrence that you keep hidden from Sicheng and Jaehyun, knowing full well they’d threaten him with force if they knew he was still contacting you after six plus weeks of not even stopping by to visit you at the hospital. Each time you’d press the button to shut off the ringtone the moment your screen lit up with the notification, only to have it ring again immediately with an incoming call from none other than yours truly. It got to the point where you figured you had to tell him in person that you were done being the subject of his pestering when he had never cared about you in the first place, and that is the first thing on your agenda once you receive an official discharge from the hospital.

“You couldn’t have told me or Jaehyun about it earlier?”

You ignore the eyerolls from Sicheng. “The two of you would’ve gone up to Taeyong and given him hell when he had nothing to do with my injury.

“Sicheng, you know where he is, don’t you?”

The answer is muttered grudgingly, but nonetheless given after a moment’s pause.

“… If you want to see him, you can probably find him wasted away at Club Cherry.”

“It’s barely 10am,” you point out. “What’s he doing already drunk at ten in the morning?”

“Don’t know and personally don’t care. I’m calling Jaehyun so he can go with you in case Taeyong tries anything funny.”

Jaehyun shows up in ten minutes, pulling up the hospital entrance in his familiar white Ferrari and beaming when he sees you standing on your feet again after being bedridden for the past six weeks.

“You look amazing.”

You smile and he helps you into the passenger side while waving goodbye to Sicheng, who grunts and waves him off before pulling out his phone to call for a cab to pick him up and take him home.

“Have you been keeping in touch with Taeyong?” you ask Jaehyun first-thing.

“Not too much,” he answers. “Why?”

“I want you to take me to Club Cherry. He… I want to see him.”

“See him… Y/N, he’s not worth it.”

You cross your arms. “Either you take me there or I’ll call Johnny to take me there.”

“I’ll take you,” Jaehyun sighs heavily, shifting gear to set the vehicle into drive. “Maybe it’s good that you’re dealing with this now instead of dragging it out.”

You have half a mind to ask for clarification but keep quiet during the ride from the hospital to the nightclub that is a favorite socializing spot of their gang, letting Jaehyun take the lead as he hands his keys to the valet and greets the bouncer at the front entrance. Let in without speaking more than the two words that granted entry into the exclusive club, he holds the door open while you hobble in. As expected of the early hour, the club is empty save the two staff members wiping down tables and sweeping the floor respectively.  

“Oh hey, Jaehyun!”

You follow Jaehyun towards the bartender, a youthful face sparked with relief and concern mixed in one as the two exchange handshakes.

“Who’s this?” he asks, warmly extending a hand over the counter.

“Mark, Y/N,” Jaehyun introduces. “Y/N, Mark. He works the bar here at Cherry but don’t be fooled. He actually owns the place.”  

Mark shakes his head and laughs it off.

“No, no, my dad owns the club. I just work here part-time while attending university to earn some extra money.”

“Basically yours in a matter of time,” you speak up. “Yes?”

“I guess you can say that.”

Jaehyun gets straight to the point once the conversation drifts into more comfortable waters.

“Did Taeyong come in today?”

“Sure did,” Mark replies, pointing at the hall where the private rooms were. “Came here at nine sharp and hauled in an entire crate of champagne bottles behind him.”

A disapproving sigh leaves Jaehyun’s mouth and you give Mark a tiny nod of thanks before following Jaehyun towards the private rooms, entering the first one of the left and covering a hand over your mouth at the sight of empty champagne bottles littering the floor. The wooden crate they came in still holding three more bottles of the like, you hurriedly take the remaining bottles to turn in to Mark at the bar while Jaehyun approaches the slumped figure on the purple couch.

“God, he looks like shit.”

You place the three champagne bottles out of reach and take in the slumped figure hugging a bottle in his arms, pity rolling off your shoulder in waves as you extend a hesitant arm to take away the untouched champagne.

“I’ll do it,” Jaehyun mumbles, gesturing for you to step back. “Taeyong is a handful when he’s wasted like this.”

At hearing his name, said drunkard somehow lifts his head up and squints before emitting loud giggles at seeing your face.

“You finally came to see me!”

“I didn’t want to,” you mutter. “But it’s hard not to when you look like this.”

“WhatdoyoumeanI’mfine.” Taeyong brushes off Jaehyun’s arm and stands up rather crookedly, pouting when you duck behind Jaehyun.

“Why, why, why no hug?”

“Can I talk to him alone?” you ask Jaehyun.

“I don’t know,” the latter begins, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “I wouldn’t trust him to not—”

“Please,” you insist. “It won’t take long.”

Jaehyun gives in, making you promise to call him if you needed reinforcements. You laugh, hooking pinkies with him as a promise before turning back to a giggly and flushed Taeyong.

“Let’s get you somewhat sobered up first.”

“No, let’s talk!” He makes a grab for your arm and manages to pull you down to the couch. “Sit here, sit!”

Sensing you wouldn’t be having much say in getting him to do what you wanted, you give in to his request but leave an arm’s reach of distance in between, brushing it off when he closes in the gap in a matter of seconds.

“What do you want to talk about, Taeyong?”

His lips pout and a whine follows.

“I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad?”

“Because…” Furrowed eyebrows and a sniffle pave way for divulgence of detail kept under wraps since you’d last seen him six plus week ago.

“Because I hurt you.”

You refute his claim. “Let’s get someone to bring you home, I—”

“Miyeon’s dating someone else.”

The outburst catching you by surprise, you simply stare and Taeyong continues, voice dropping to a hollowness you didn’t think you’d ever hear coming from his mouth.

“She was just… keeping me hopeful in case he wanted to break up with her.”

You bite back the retort of how great it was to have a taste of his own medicine and nod to show you were listening.

“Mhm.”

“I was so mad, Y/N. I went to her company to clear things up since she stopped answering my calls and I found her making out with some rising actor who’s currently recording a historical drama. So mad.”

“… That…”

“You know what’s more stupid?” A bubble of laughter and he sits back on the couch, arm slung over his eyes. “After that, I realized what she was doing to me was basically me doing the same to you, and… and wow.  

“You must hate me for being such an asshole,” he laughs, voice trembling as tears trickle down his reddened face. “A loser. I’m just a spoiled brat who… who can’t even treat people right and—”

“Stop.” You lean forward from your seat and wrap your arms around him. “You’re not a loser.”

He continues crying into your shoulder and you remain still, letting him get all his feelings out rather than continue drinking himself into oblivion.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles when you move your numb arms. “I’m so lonely here.”

“I actually came here to tell you to stop calling me,” you begin. “I…

“I came to visit you, did you know?”

You pause. “When?”

Taeyong hiccups and counts off on his fingers.

“One, two… five times. I never went when Sicheng or Jaehyun were there but I did go to see you at the hospital.”

“That…. That’s nice of you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do… Do what?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Taeyong. I can’t keep holding on to this… whatever this is. I know you don’t like me and while I was hurt that you used me as leverage, now I know that I deserve better. I deserve to love and be loved by someone who cares about me, loves me, treats me as someone who is worth it and…

“That someone isn’t you. I thought it would be you but it was all just one-sided thinking from my part.”

“I know I treated you poorly before,” Taeyong rasps. “But don’t you think—”

“I think it’s time for me to move on,” you finish, letting go of him and standing up from your seat. “And I wish the same for you.”

“You won’t even give me a second chance?” His question echoes from the shell of a man broken, a man who had once offered his heart in its entirety only to have it returned in shattered pieces. “I… I wasn’t thinking properly, I…”

“You’re not sober.” Taking out your phone from your purse, you tap at the screen to send a text message. “I’ll contact your sister so she can come pick you up and bring you home.”

—

Work picks up once you re-enter the whirlwind that is the modeling industry, no doubt Sicheng and even your mother having played a significant part in getting you back in the favor of photographers and fashion designers to book you for photos and model new fashion lines for the upcoming season. No word of your fatal fall off the catwalk is mentioned by your colleagues, and even your manager takes care to keep your schedule less busy in case another incident occurs while you were on call for another job. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate more free time, but you wish you weren’t treated like a glass sculpture that could easily break with just one touch.

As you remain still while your makeup artist applies more eyeshadow on the lids, a sharp searing sensation pulses through your right leg and you wince, immediately garnering the attention of your manager and at least three other staff members who rush over to see if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you say with a wave, “I can stand.”

“We can call it a day and resume tomorrow,” your manager tells you. “It’s not a problem.”

“I can stand,” you repeat with a slight roll of your eyes. “It was just a cramp.”

She backs off from pressing on about having you sit down and your makeup artist pulls up a chair for you to sit on, a gesture that only stoked the flames more as you refuse to sit while eyeliner works its magic to shaping your eyes into the sultry cat’s eye look today’s shoot called for.

“The dress is perfect.”

You turn around, smiling at the compliment. Ten whistles appreciatively at the black sleeveless velveteen dress that hugged close to your body, the coral pink flowers dotting the soft black fabric an unexpected splash of vibrancy that comes only second to the choker keyhole at your bosom.

“You like?”

“Sweetie, you look gorgeous. And that’s gorgeous with a capital G.”

“Why, thank you.”

You frown at seeing him still in casual clothes. “You’re not changed yet.”

“Ah, there was a change of my schedule, so I won’t be doing the photoshoot with you.” 

A buzz and he reaches into the pockets of his trousers, beaming as he turns to you with a smile.

“My replacement just got here, so—”

“Jaehyun?” you ask out of curiosity. “He has a nice face for modeling.”

“He’s okay, but you’ll know why I decided to choose who I chose to replace me for this one.” Without saying anything more, he ushers you to head out towards the hotel room for your pictures, waving quickly before turning tail to do whatever it was that demanded his time instead of taking photos with you.

Two knocks on the door and you’re greeted by a face you hadn’t been expecting to see at all, a face that offers a soft smile and brings back the slightest of tugs in your heart as he moves aside to let you in.

“Hello, Taeyong.”

He nods in greeting and scans over your dress, line of sight stopping at your shoes.

“You’re wearing the shoes I got you.”

You bite your lip and nod slowly.

“It doesn't mean anything. I just wore them because I wasn’t told I had to wear a specific type for today and…

“They’re comfortable,” you finish with a whisper. “A lot better than boring black heels.”

“I know,” he murmurs in reply. “You told me so when I picked them out at the store for you.”

“Places, everybody!”

Taeyong gestures towards the ensemble of staff setting up the cameras and offers a hand. “May I?”

Unsure if it was a pity gesture after your fall, you stare at the outstretched hand and find yourself taking it, letting him guide you towards the photographers even though you were capable of walking there on your own.

—

Taeyong is more skilled than you give credit for, naturally photogenic in each shot taken of him on the leather couch in the hotel room. Something as mundane as the everyday couch becomes an instrument in his filling in for Ten, giving the professional model a run for his money with the string of praise trickling from the photographer’s encouraging lips. New poses are suggested and lighting adjusted to better fit the mood for his batch of photos, you find yourself staring longer than you liked and nearly miss the cue to enter had Taeyong not gotten up from the couch, waving his hand in your face to check if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, not looking him in the eyes. “Let’s get on with it.”

You follow the cue to move towards the bed and unconsciously flinch when Taeyong sits down on the other side. Toppling to the side, you nearly fall off until an arm reaches out and hooks around your waist.

“I got you.”

Mumbling thanks, you inch away but the photographer calls for you to move back towards Taeyong. A tiny sigh escapes your parted mouth as you place your head against his shoulder, one frame captured. Intimacy welcomed, you do your best to keep it professional as Taeyong slings an arm over your left shoulder. His head tips toward you and you close your eyes in return. Not having to look at his face made things a little bit easier, your choice in turning your face to the side and averting eye contact to your hands or any other part of the body a smart one during the entire shoot.

Individual shots follow the paired ones and you watch as he changes out of the black top and red pants to a velveteen blue blazer and similarly dark-colored shorts, looking dapper despite—if your eyes weren’t deceiving you—the lack of a shirt underneath the buttoned garment. His gaze distant as he sits against the top of the cabinet, you slip behind to the computers and find the assistant scrolling through Taeyong’s other individual shots. The screen displaying a plethora of samples, a whispered request to the fumbling assistant who is just as amazed at speaking with a model grants you control of the mouse in a matter of seconds. While she mumbles about how Taeyong’s face is perfect for this shoot, you focus on studying the pictures and see clearly why Taeyong had been chosen as a substitute for Ten. His face is sculpted in such a way that it radiated beauty from practically all angles, and the gaze is the cherry on top that seals the deal. Darkened are his eyes, but they channel such a sultry yet melancholic undertone to portray an enhanced depth to the edginess on the surface. Editing effects such as blurs only enhance the beauty emitting from the man and you almost want to ask if the assistant can send you a few of the files after the photoshoot is over.

“Y/N, can you come in, please?”

You nod and the photographer directs you to stand behind Taeyong, close enough that you are pressed against his back while placing your chin onto his shoulder.

“You look as stiff as a cardboard. Place your left hand on his thigh if it helps to make you relax.”

“Go ahead,” Taeyong murmurs, tilting his neck. “I don’t mind.”

You hesitantly place your fingers on his thigh and the touch is electrifying. You immediately shrink away but find your hand held in place by another. Taeyong doesn’t say anything as he holds your hand, and you take a deep breath before pulling yourself together, regaining the initial requested posture and powering through the remainder of the shoot.

“And that’s a wrap, thank you. Anything else we will pick up starting tomorrow morning.”

“Have some time for a drink?” Taeyong asks you after the cameras are packed away.

“N-Not really, I—”

The look of dejection on his face changes your mind and you look away at his beaming grin, a light that tugs at your heartstrings as he eagerly pulls you after him. Out of the room and towards the elevators, then up three floors until the lift stops at number 8. Opening to the makings of a dimly-lit but welcoming bar, Taeyong picks a seat towards the left side of the counter.

“Here.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him as two dry martinis are placed before him.

“Cheers?”

Fingers gripping the martini glass, a quiet “Cheers” and you down the drink in nearly one go, wincing at the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“Is there somewhere you need to go?”

“Well…” You ask the bartender for water. “I didn’t…. I didn’t actually want to get a drink with you.”

“Why not?”

The glass of water you requested clinks next to your emptied martini, and you opt to take a large sip of the liquid, not answering his question.

“I guess I don’t deserve anything more when I was the one who treated you like a toy.” A bitter chuckle and he calls for two more dry martinis.

“You can go. I’ve put the drinks under my tab.”

“… No, I’ll stay. I won’t need any more drinks, but I can stay and keep you company, if you’d like.”

True to your word, you stay with him for the remainder of the night at the bar without any more drops of alcohol in your system. You listen to him talk and hold rather engaging conversations regarding just about anything: the weather, the modeling industry, his sister’s business endeavors, favorite drinks…

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Taeyong mumbles as his head knocks onto your shoulder. “Great, just great.”

“So I’ve been told,” you laugh, beckoning for the bartender to take your credit card to pay for half a bottle of scotch’s worth of shots. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Then where am I supposed to take you?”

“He has a room here,” the bartender speaks up. “He drank himself to oblivion the other night and I had someone bring him up to the 4th floor. First door on the right-hand side.”

You thank the bartender for the helpful tip and somehow manage to get Taeyong up. Making your way towards the elevator, you keep one arm steadily wrapped around his waist so he didn’t fall, trudging to the elevator and descending from the 8th floor to four levels below.

“Where’s your room key, Taeyong?”

He mumbles an inaudible answer and you sigh before reaching a hand into his blazer, fingers interlacing around a rectangular card that you swipe at the door handle before placing it between your teeth. After helping him inside, you spit out the key, making sure he can sit upright on his own before informing your manager that you were with Taeyong. The request to extend the news to Taeyong’s sister is added less she worry about her brother’s whereabouts and safety at one in the morning.

“I should probably change out of this dress.”

Remembering the bartender had said that Taeyong visited the bar last night, you figure he’d have spare clothes in the closet and open the wardrobe. Taking your pick from the hangers of gray, blue, and the occasional white, you settle on a simple white button-up with a hemline that just barely reaches past your fingertips. The black dress is all but discarded after you toss the garment onto the single chair by the window.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

You turn around, pulling down the shirt to not flash anything inappropriate in his drunken state.

Taeyong sits at the corner of the bed, hands clasped together as he looks up at you.

“It’s cute,” he adds with a soft chuckle. “I like it.”

“You should take a shower,” you mumble, slinking behind the chair and taking refuge in the curtains. “You smell like booze.”

“Will you still be here after I shower?”

He takes your silence as a yes and gets up from the bed.

“Sit wherever you’d like. It’s cold by the window.”

You wait until he enters the bathroom to make a dash for the bed, pulling up the covers to cover up your bare legs as you make yourself comfortable. After standing for almost the whole day, it felt good to sit and rest your legs on a soft mattress, the sheer size of the room informing you that this floor can only be a luxury suite and higher since most of the doors you had passed in getting here were quite spaced apart.

“You can sleep there tonight.”

You break out of your thoughts and stare at the dripping wet hair and white bathrobe on the man who had booked this suite, not registering his words until he repeats it a second time.

“If I sleep here, then where will you sleep?”

“There’s a chair.” He pulls up another chair by the mahogany desk next to the television and moves it to your right side, sitting down cross-legged.

“You don’t need to do that for me.”

Moving the covers aside, you bend your legs and wince at the cramping sensation in your calves, a gesture that has Taeyong up on his feet in seconds.

“Are you okay, where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you grumble. “It’s not like you were at fault for my fall off the catwalk.”

“Believe me, I would’ve done everything I could to prevent it from happening.”  

Displeasure sinks its claws into your calves and you force yourself up, only be pushed back down by Taeyong.

“Sleep,” he orders. “You must be tired after a long day.”

“I… Why do you even care when I’ve always been a nobody to you?”

“You’re not a nobody to me.”

The depth of the sentence leaves a lasting echo in the room and you stare at him wide-eyed.

“You’re not a nobody to me,” he repeats. “I admit that I shouldn’t have used you to get back at Miyeon, but I never thought you were a nobody to me.”

“You… You never told me.”

“I…” A scoff and he sits onto the chair next to you, head tilted back. “How was I supposed to say I didn’t think you were a nobody to me without sounding like a creep?”

“I loved you,” you say quietly. “Did you know that, at least?”

“…Yes.” He fidgets with his fingers; you can practically see him picking through word by word in his brain for a suitable reply. “But I didn’t act on it because I wasn’t sure if you liked me for me or for my money. So many people have approached me simply because of my background and nothing was ever genuine.

“You can imagine what that does to someone, can’t you? As bad as it sounds, it was just easier to give the cold shoulder and keep at a distance rather than go through the cycle of false hopes at meeting people who didn’t care about my money or my social status. I hardened my heart so I wouldn’t ever be fed lies and fake compliments again, but that ended up hurting you when you always valued me for me and not the things that I had to my name.”

Hypotheticals race through your head, scenarios of what could have been a loving relationship with Taeyong that only create more prickling holes in your heart. As if you hadn’t finished hurting from all the years of unrequited love, now you were faced with another reality, the reality of a relationship that never came to fruition due to failure at communicating your feelings in a way that didn’t evoke misunderstanding in either party.

There was no one to attribute fault to and call blame on; the timing just never came at an appropriate time. And as others had told you before, it would’ve hurt less to have known nothing would ever happen the moment you had felt something more for a man like Taeyong.

Untouchable, out-of-your-league, perhaps you had only been in love with the idea of loving Taeyong, an intangible conception of emotions that had brought you in an endless loop around the park until today. Today marking the day you finally found the exit out of the seemingly endless maze, a day holding so much more meaning than intended as you take a deep breath and prepare to say your final goodbye to a love that had kept you in its chains for so many years.

“Hey, Taeyong?”

“Hmm?”

You reach your arms up and pull him close, pressing your lips against his cheek one last time—a kiss just as soft as the first but harboring hints of a melancholic farewell rather than hope for a chance to start fresh from square one.  

[thecollinhartman-blog]

Collin’s Coronavirus Thoughts

Corona Diaries

 I know what you are thinking. It is Day 4 of the Quarantine and Social Distancing and Collin has gone so crazy without all the busy-ness of life that he is writing a blog post. And you would be absolutely correct. Like every other millennial twenty-something, I have a lot of really great ideas that haven’t quite come to fruition. By now I thought I would be operating a volleyball facility, or traveling the US in a VW van driving for Uber, or pursuing a PhD program in England while playing volleyball, or coaching a small college team in Southern California.

All this to say I’m a big-time dreamer and a mostly incredibly poor “executer”. I often mistake my busy-ness for full-ness. I have seven unread books on my night stand, I haven’t been grocery shopping in weeks, I never got around to painting the trim in the bathroom my dad and I remodeled, my phone hasn’t been at full charge since November, and there has been an overflow of recycling sitting outside my house from the garbage disposal and mattress I got for Christmas… and now it’s March. Welcome to it, friends.

 Let’s start here: I stopped by my parents’ house this week to print something – which I often do because I have a lot of printing needs but haven’t ever purchased a printer. It’s nice because I can print some papers I need AND I can always count on cool ranch Doritos and a Mango Orange Crystal Lite…. that I’ll likely take one sip of, leave on the counter, and finish when I’m there 4 days later.

 Anyway, here I am printing in my dad’s office and running late for a meeting  (all because I napped for too long). I rush out the door of the house, accidentally leaving one document on the printer, pens and paper everywhere, and a cupboard desk drawer open. A few minutes later, my dad sends me a picture of his office, which was without a doubt entirely put together five minutes prior to me being there. The tone of his text is sarcastic but loving but semi-annoyed which I can handle. I spend six seconds feeling bad about my reckless and disorganized self until Hillsong’s Highlands comes on the radio and I turn it up. I don’t spend time reflecting on things that would make me sad, I’m a 7.

 In the midst of my frantic printing and meeting prep, my dad told me he was going to call me “F-5”as my new nickname. By the look on my face, he could tell I was confused as to why. He begins to tell me that tornados are classified in F-0 through F-5 categories, with an F-5 tornado being the wildest in nature. My quick google search defines an F-5 tornado as the most “violent damage, homes lifted off foundation and carried considerable distances, autos thrown as far as 100 meters.” I think what my dad was trying to say is that my general way of life is to rampage my way through different spaces, groups, situations… often times in an assertive, proactive, somewhat wild, chaotic way and then just… leave (I think this how I drive too). Stop go stop go stop go. I go from this thing right on to the next without pause. I show up, jump out of my car, race to wherever I’m supposed to go, be (mostly) present there until BOOM, it’s a Monday evening and I’m in the Eagle gym, shutting off all the lights, gathering volleyballs, turning on the alarm, leaving for Young Life – all in an attempt to get there three minutes before it starts so I can prep items for the game I’m leading ALLLLL before being interrupted in the parking lot by a mom of a U11 kid who is reminding me (probably for the 3rd time) about the t-shirt they ordered and are waiting on. Following? Me neither.

 In short – my life actually is like an F-5 tornado. I run run run from one thing to the next, filling my world to the brim with as much as I possibly can all until I arrive back at my house at 10:30 pm, gas light on, eat whatever I can find in the fridge before my head hits the pillow 4 minutes later, only to set my alarm and do it again.

 I’ve been living my life like this for a really long time until…. well until Sunday when we got the news that school is cancelled, which means volleyball activities are all cancelled too, and Young Life gatherings paused and suddenly my wild Monday is WIDE OPEN.

 This blog post / journal / diary is my attempt to articulate from my squirrel brain some things I’ve learned about myself in the last 48 hours since this craziness called coronavirus officially stopped my (and probably your) collective world right in their F-5 tornado tracks.

 First, let me tell you about my day today paint a picture of how my world feels just a bit (LITERALLY ENTIRELY) different…..

 1)    I didn’t set an alarm and I woke up at 8:30 am.

2)    Shortly after, I went on a quick walk to the nearest coffee shop and ordered a Misto: I am on my journey to black coffee and I just graduated from a latte to this half coffee half milk concoction (with caramel) and I feel accomplished.

3)    I stopped by my neighbor friend’s house to say hello.

4)    I got home, cleaned a couple things around the house, washed a couple plates in my sink, and went on a bike ride to downtown Boise where I enjoyed a takeout lunch from Whole Foods. I would like to tell you that I rode my bike home, but a friend happened to see me and my girlfriend (she is working remotely from Utah and visiting right now) saw us and somehow realized the journey completely uphill from downtown to my house on the bench might not be all that fun so we piled our bikes in her car and she took us home.

5)    I took a 20 minute snoozer.

6)    I got up and did some yard work outside, gathering pine needles from underneath my big backyard tree and finally broke down those big boxes that have been sitting outside my house for months and was able to fit them all inside my recycling can.

7)    It started to drizzle so I came inside, crawled under a big blanket and read the first couple chapters of Prodigal God by Timothy Keller.

8)    Kinslie and I then stopped by the store to pick up some things for dinner and I grilled some steaks and shared a giant salad and some grilled asparagus.

9)    After a few girl scout cookies (they stopped by yesterday), we watched the last half of Ellen’s Game of Games and picked a movie on Netflix.

10) Now I’m lying in my (perfectly made) bed (because I had the time to make it) writing all my thoughts down in a word document wondering if I’ll actually post this or if there is really anything of worth that I’m typing. I think there is but not sure yet.

 Well, friends of the interwebs, you might be wondering why you just read a detailed list of my day from start to finish. Here’s what I want you to know.

 1)    Upon arriving at the coffee shop, I had a cheerful silly conversation with the barista about what drink I should order as we laughed about me wanting to eventually enjoy drip coffee. We engaged in authentic dialogue for a few minutes and on the way out I thanked her for the drink recommendation.

2)    Before leaving for our bike ride, my tires were flat so we walked them to the gas station and filled up with six quarters before we went on our merry way. I empathized with the Chevron employee as we talked about coronavirus and how it might impact our lives. I wished him well and went on my way.

3)    While bikeriding downtown I noticed there are five…. FIVE… different types of massage or spa places between my house and Curtis, which is the next main stop light.

4)    At Whole Foods, I asked the clerk their favorite pasta salad as she walked over and told me all about the 2 for $6 deal. I noticed the different textures of the floor and the neatly stacked chairs and how the vegetables were perfectly arranged in their place.

5)    While doing yardwork, I stopped and looked at Kinslie as she was raking leaves into a pile. I went over and looked, I mean REALLY LOOKED into her eyes and noticed how the Irish green edges melt into a light sky-ish blue before meeting her pupil. I noticed the way she parted her wavy blonde hair and the way it fell just barely over the sweatshirt she was borrowing of mine.  I noticed how thankful I was I had someone to share this day with and even more thankful for her idea to do this yardwork that surely wouldn’t have been started for maybe forever.

6)    While reading, I noticed the way the soft sunshine pressed through my semi-open blinds onto my page and made the black ink pop off the page. I contemplated Keller’s words of Pharisees and tax collectors and a story of two sons on their journey of deeper understanding of God’s steadfast love and grace in the midst of their own struggles.

7)    While making dinner I couldn’t help but take just a little extra time to delicately cut each cucumber and carrot slice with care as I heard sounds of clattering branches from my cracked window as dusk began to settle in.

8)    And while writing this blog post, I can’t help but notice all the things I noticed in my own world for perhaps the first time.

 While I can’t be sure what life will look like in a few short days, weeks, or even months, and while I’m not positive what my income will be, and what daily routines or rituals will be impacted, or how our schools and communities will be changed – I can be sure of this: I hope in the midst of my crazy F-5 tornado life that surely will be back in busy routine before I know it – I hope for a couple things.

 I hope I can continue notice the little things. To notice the wildly interconnected, perfectly-timed, awe strikingly beautiful, crazy detailed, little details of this world like the way I noticed the lines on the fresh steaks as I pulled them off my garage sale grill.  

 I hope to breathe deep and see, I mean REALLY see the world around me, to engage in relationship in more authentic and honest ways, to stop for a moment wherever I am to truly connect with the people around me.

  I hope to take my time through a home cooked meal, and to not be so filled with anxiousness and fear of the future and unknown that I my eyes are blinded to see the way God is working in and through my (and our) world, possibly even through something like the freaking COVID-19.

 While I’m sure there will be more lessons to be learned in the next little while, I challenge you to take a couple moments to really press in and reflect upon the way this Zombie apocalyptic ish tirade is impacting your world. I truly hope in the midst of empty toilet paper shelves and hand sanitizer hoarders there is something beautiful in your world that you’ve noticed, too.

[fanforthefics]

because fake/pretend relationships are my fucking jam would you do number 34 for sidgeno ?

a kiss… to pretend

“Tell Sid no,” Flower says as soon as Sid opens the door, before Sid even has a chance to say hi to Geno. 

Geno raises his eyebrows, but, “No,” he tells Sid as he comes into his apartment, handing Sid the six-pack of beer that is his perennial contribution to their monthly potluck dinners.

“Thanks,” Sid says to Geno, “It’s just us this month, all the guys are busy, apparently.” Then he turns back to Flower, because he’s wrong. “I didn’t even say I was going to do anything.” 

“You were on your way there,” Flower retorts. 

“I–” 

“Have you told Sid no too?” Tanger asks, wandering into the hallway in his socks. “It is unanimous, if you did.” 

“It is not–” 

“It is!” Cath calls from the living room. 

“I’m not even proposing anything!” Sid repeats, exasperated. “I was just stating an issue.” 

“Is anyone ever going to catch me up?” Geno demands. In the time they’ve been bickering, he’s taken off his boots and his coat and hung it up, and is now standing looking impatient in his warm-looking cardigan. “What is Sid doing now?” 

“What am I doing now?” Sid asks. “Me? Flower is in the room!” 

“And I’m not doing anything,” Flower tells him, smiling beatifically. “I’m enjoying it, too. I never get to yell at you for being stupid.”

“I’m not–” 

“Someone tell me what’s happening,” Geno demands again. He takes the six-pack back from Sid, and pushes past Sid to head to the kitchen. Sid makes a face at Flower, who makes one back, before he follows Geno into the kitchen. 

Geno’s made himself at home in the kitchen, or as at home as he needs to be to know where the bottle opener is and to steal a taste from the sauce simmering on the stove. Sid smacks his hand away, and takes a beer of his own, ignoring Geno’s puppy dog eyes. 

“Come on, sit down, Flower and Vero brought these prosciutto things, they’re great,” Sid tells him. Geno perks up at that, as always. 

Sid barely manages to sit down in the armchair before Flower starts on him again. 

“You can’t do this, Sid,” he says. Sid looks at Vero. 

“Can you please control your husband?” 

“No,” She replies, patting him on the thigh. “Also, you cannot do this.” 

“If no one tell me what Sid doing, I’m going scream,” Geno says, around a mouthful of prosciutto. 

“I’m not doing anything!” 

“He’s going to hire someone to date him so that the people at work like him,” Tanger inserts, smirking. 

Geno freezes, then turns to Sid. “Sid…” he says on a sigh. 

“That’s not what I said!” Sid glares at Tanger. If this was ten years ago, he definitely would be throwing a pillow–or a cracker–at him. But they aren’t in college anymore, and are apparently adults. Though Sid is fairly sure not everyone in this room–cough Flower cough–remembers that. 

“You were going to get there soon,” Vero tells him. She steals a grape from Flower’s plate, then grins at him when he makes an affronted sound. “We’re just getting you there faster.” 

“I honestly never thought of that, because I’m not insane,” Sid points out. “And my first response isn’t to hire someone to have sex with me.” 

“That is true,” Cath agrees, looking at her husband. “Sid’s pretty. He probably wouldn’t have to pay for it. I’m sure he could convince someone to do it just for that ass.” 

“Hmm,” Tanger hums, “I–” 

“Why you need to pay someone for sex?” Geno interrupts. He sounds stern. Sid has never been cowed by Geno being stern. 

“As I was saying before you all started willfully misinterpreting me,” he starts. Tanger snorts very loudly. “I just think work might be easier if I was in a relationship.” 

“Why?” Geno asks. 

Sid shrugs. “They don’t trust me, yet,” he explains. It’s fair–he’s only been there a few weeks, and he knows it caused a stir, bringing in someone from the outside to be director, and someone as comparatively young as him. Sid’s been facing that sort of distrust his whole life–always too young and too good at his job. They’ll get over that once they get some big wins. 

“They trust once you raise them millions of dollars or do big initiative,” Geno says, as on the same page as Sid as always. “Why you worry?” 

“It’s different, this time.” Sid says. “I think I’m not gay enough. Which is why a relationship would help,” he adds, over French-Canadian laughter. 

“Um, think you plenty gay,” Geno says, not bothering not to look like he’s laughing. “What, they want you wear rainbows? Have sex tape?” 

“Don’t,” Sid warns. It’s not not that trivial–he gets it, a little. And anyway, you don’t laugh at people’s feelings, ever. “Their Board of Directors just brought in some guy they don’t know, and they’ve got a healthy non-profit distrust of their Board anyway. They don’t want some straight cis white guy leading a place where the whole mission is inclusion. It makes sense. 

“But you aren’t a straight cis white guy,” Vero points out. “Unless you went back in the closet.” 

“I didn’t, and I’m not quiet about my orientation, but…” Sid waves at himself. “You know how I look.” 

“Sure do,” Geno agrees, leering cheerfully. Sid smacks his knee, the closest part of him. “Hey! Just saying, you look very nice. You know.” 

Sid knows he blushes, but he ignores it. Geno’s never exactly sparing with his compliments, and he’s made it clear for about ten years that he thinks Sid is hot. It’s not new, or anything. 

“I look like a meathead jock,” Sid corrects. He knows that, too. It’s usually something that works for him–people underestimate him at work and like it on Grindr–but it does make certain spaces less immediately welcoming, how non-flamboyant he is. “Which is not a trope they trust. Understandably. So even though they know I’m gay, they don’t, like, feel it. Which is why,” he goes on, with a meaningful look, “I was saying that if I was in a relationship, it would give me more credit. It was these idiots who jumped from there to me hiring someone.” 

Tanger says something in French, too low and fast for Sid to catch, which means it was definitely an insult, given how everyone but Geno smirks. Sid loves the pot lucks when it’s just them, just what he privately thinks of as the original crew–or the ones that haven’t moved away–but at least when all the younger people are here he has some defense against French speakers. And making fun of him–he’ll take the sometimes uncomfortable hero worship for less mockery. 

At least Geno can’t understand them either, and ignores them as easily as Sid. “You could just find boyfriend.” 

Sid snorts. “In all my free time?” he asks. He leaves unsaid what they all know–he’s not an easy boyfriend. Maybe not personally, though some of his previous boyfriends might disagree, especially when he was younger and didn’t really know how to deal with his obsessiveness, but Sid’s busy and he’s generally going to put work first and he’s not rich or romantic enough to make up for that. His friends, who too often have to put up with his single-minded focus and occasional neglect of them for that, understand. 

And also, he doesn’t want to talk about this, like, at all. Ever since Flower’s and Tanger’s weddings, they’ve been not at all subtle about their matchmaking of Sid, because apparently it doesn’t calculate that marrying their high school or college sweetheart is a different deal than post-college dating. 

“Anyway,” Sid adds. “Geno, you went on a second date yesterday, right? How was that?” 

Geno gives him a horrified, betrayed look. Sid smirks and shrugs. He’s willing to play a little dirty to escape the clutches of matchmakers. 

“You did?” Vero demands, like a shark scenting blood. “What was he like? How was it?” 

“What’s his name? How did you meet him?” Flower adds. Geno holds up his hands, and Sid settles in to watch. 

Later, Sid’s clearing the table when Geno wanders in, holding the last remaining beer bottles. “Thanks,” Sid tells him, as he throws them in recycling. 

“No problem,” Geno says, and leans agains the island to watch as Sid rinses the final plates and puts them in the dishwasher. Sid waits. Geno doesn’t usually stick around for clean-up; if he’s still here he wants to talk something over with Sid. And sometimes he needs a little bit to get there–either because he’s finding the words in English, though his English is much better now than it was at the beginning, and sometimes just because Geno has a lot of emotions and figuring out the words for them sometimes takes him a while. 

Sid finishes loading the dishwasher, then turns to lean against the sink, watching Geno back. Geno looks as good as he always does, all long legs and rangy body and that ineffable charm that makes objectively goofy features attractive. Sid’s never really been clear why he’s still single, honestly; Geno’s a catch. And maybe being a grad student isn’t the world’s most lucrative or interesting job, but he hasn’t really had a boyfriend since graduation, and working at Google is definitely both. 

“You really think it help?” Geno asks, suddenly. Sid blinks. “To have boyfriend. You really think would help you get settle, do better?” 

Sid shrugs. “Yeah? I mean, it’ll happen eventually anyway. It’s just bad timing, because we have a big event coming up and I need all hands on deck, but–”

“So it help,” Geno interrupts him. He’s still watching Sid, something thoughtful and searching in his deepset eyes. 

It’s a look Sid’s familiar with. “Geno, what are you going to do?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Geno–” 

“Don’t worry, Sid.” Sid is definitely going to worry. Geno with that look on his face is the sort of Geno who, back in college, ended up leading the whole team into the penalty box in the one game Sid missed. “I take care.” 

“Do not hire me a hooker.” Geno smiles, pats Sid on the head, then heads to the hallway. 

“Evgeni Malkin!” Sid follows him down the hallway. “Do not get me a hooker. Do not work with Flower and Tanger to get me a hooker.” 

“You think I’m do that?” Geno asks, with his most innocent face. Sid is absolutely not fooled. 

“Yes,” He says. “But don’t. It’s fine. I’ll make it work.” 

“Yes, you always do,” Geno agrees. There’s an odd note in his voice. “See you soon, Sid.” 

“See you.” Sid hovers as he gets his boots on, then his jacket. Then he stands up and tugs Sid in for a quick hug, which Sid returns, used to it by now. 

Then Geno goes. Sid closes the door behind him, goes to the kitchen table, and opens up his computer. He has more work to do before he goes to bed. 

Sid’s office phone rings, and Sid jumps and accidentally types in an extra g–it’s still a different enough tone from what Sid’s used to that he’s surprised by it every time. 

He glances at the caller id–the front desk–and then picks it up. “Sidney Crosby.” 

“Hi, Sidney,” Sydney, the receptionist, says. Her voice is still tightly polite. “There’s an Evgeni Malkin, here to see you?” 

“Geno’s here?” Sid pulls up his calendar, but he doesn’t have anything there; there’s no texts on his personal phone, either. 

“If Geno is a tall Russian man, then yes,” she replies. It’s at least a hint of snark–Sid will take it. 

“Oh. Um. Okay, I’ll be right out,” Sid tells her, then hangs up. If he cranes his neck from here, he can see the front desk through the glass walls of his office–and sure enough, there’s a hint of a brightly patterned jacket that Sid has been subjected to looking at plenty of times. He can also see the other people in the office, most of them on their computers but a few with the sort of tension that means that they’re eavesdropping. 

Sid goes to the front desk. Geno’s leaning over it, chatting with Sydney, who looks, inevitably, charmed. 

But he looks up when he sees Sid, and grins. “Sid!” 

“Hey, G.” Sid pauses. “I didn’t forget something, did I?” 

“No, no. I surprise.” Geno holds up a takeout bag. “Think I bring you lunch.” 

“Oh. Thanks?” That’s not really something they do, and Geno is definitely up to something, but Sid’s also not going to turn down a free lunch. Geno works at Google, he can afford that shit. “Um, my office is over here, come on.” 

“I come. Nice to meet, Sydney,” Geno tells Sydney, who smiles at him. 

“What are you doing here, really?” Sid asks, as he walks Geno back to his office. 

Geno’s innocent look is unconvincing. “Can’t just stop in, be nice?” 

“No.” 

Geno snorts. He’s of course loud; much more of the office is looking at Sid now, over the top of their computers. Sid is pretty sure at least some of the typing is them sending slack messages about him. 

“Fine, maybe I’m have ulterior motive,” he admits, as they get to the door of Sid’s office. He pauses in front of it, and Sid can see him look around the office, clock the people watching. 

Then his hand is on the back of Sid’s head, tilting it up, and Sid’s too surprised to react when Geno leans down to kiss him, chaste but lingering. 

Geno’s smiling when he pulls back. “I’m miss, little bit,” he says, sheepish. Probably because he can see the murder in Sid’s eyes. Or how the sound of typing around them has definitely picked up. 

Sid looks at him another moment–then he pushes the door open. “Come in,” he says. It’s an order, and Geno doesn’t push it. 

Sid shuts the door, then crosses his arms and leans back against his desk. It’s not perfect–the glass is soundproofed to a degree, but it’s not perfect, and everyone can see them anyway, so he can’t yell properly. But at least he can say what he wants. 

“What the hell was that?” he snaps. “G–” 

Geno crosses his arms back. “That is solution,” he retorts. “You need boyfriend. You not want to hire boyfriend, don’t have time to find one. So, I find solution.” 

Sid blinks. Thinks about his words, very carefully. “If this is you asking me out, G, I’m very flattered, but I don’t–” 

“No! No, is not–of course not. Not want to actually date you.” Sid’s probably offended by how fast Geno answered that and how horrified he sounds. “Just, pretend. So you get credibility with co-workers.” 

“And what do you get?” 

Geno shrugs. “Not a big deal for me. You can buy me beer.” 

“I’m not going to ask you to do this,” Sid tells him. Then, “Actually, no, I’m not even considering this. There’s no way it’d work. We’d have to pretend to be dating–I have events and things you’d have to come to.” 

“So I come. Eat fancy food, tell everyone how great foundation is. Can do.” 

“And what if someone ran across you on Tinder?” 

“Then we say I not deactivate by accident, or we open. We figure out.” 

Sid looks at Geno. That answer was fast too–fast enough that Geno had thought about it before. “Geno, why are you doing this?” 

Geno shrugs, and looks down at his hands. “Because–Foundation’s work important. I’m know that–it help me, when I come to America. And I’m so excited when you get this job, because I know you do great things with it, help so many people.” He looks up, and it’s the way he always looks at Sid–like he believes in him. Like there’s no question he wouldn’t believe in him. “I want make sure you can.” 

Sid opens his mouth. Closes it. “G, you don’t have to–” 

“Know I don’t. I want to. Want to help.” Geno glares back at him. It’s still an open question, who between them is more stubborn. “And what you do now? Say random person just kiss you?” 

So that was him cornering Sid. Sid should have known. “I’d say that that’s how you say hello, because you’re insane,” Sid answers. Geno makes a face. “Flower or Tanger didn’t put you up to this?” 

“No, they not know. We not have to tell them.” Geno’s still looking at Sid, steady and sure. “This all me. You want to do?” 

Sid–it’ll help, he justifies. It’ll help. And Geno really won’t have to do much, and he’ll pay him in so much beer, and–”We don’t ever tell Flower,” he says. Geno grins. “And this doesn’t mean you get to do your insane plans whenever you want, you or him.” 

“Okay, Sid.” He pats Sid’s thigh, looking very smug now that he’s gotten his way. “Now, we eat lunch?” 

Sid sighs. This is definitely opening a Pandora’s box. “Yes,” he agrees. He can feel a lot of eyes on him. “Let’s eat lunch.” 

They eat lunch, and then Geno leaves, but not before he kisses Sid again, a little less chaste this time. It’s a good kiss–Sid would expect nothing less, he’s heard the reviews from some of Geno’s exes and hook-ups–and Geno’s eyes gleam when he pulls away, like he got away with something. Sid rolls his eyes, but shoos him out of the office with a, “Go away, I’ve got work to do.” 

“Fine. See you tonight?” he asks. Sid raises his eyebrows–they hadn’t had any plans tonight that he knew of, and generally Thursdays are Geno’s nights where he goes out with his Russian friends and has a little taste of home–but Geno gives him a meaningful look, so he nods anyway. 

“Yeah, tonight. Bye. Babe,” he adds, because he feels like he should. Then he makes a little face, because that sounded wrong. 

Geno is definitely laughing at him, but he leaves with a cheerful wave to Sydney. 

Sid turns to go back into his office–then thinks better of it. If they’re going to do this, they’re going to do it. 

“Hey, Sydney,” he says, wandering over to her desk. “Sorry, I should have said earlier–but if Geno comes by, you can just always send him over unless I’m in a meeting.” 

“Okay, I’ll make a note of it.” Sid can see her physically struggling not to ask for gossip. He waits, and sure enough. “So, that was your…” 

In for a penny. “Boyfriend,” Sid confirms. 

“He’s cute,” she observes. “He was singing your praises over here.”

Sid rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he does that,” he agrees. “Feel free to tell him to shut up, he needs that sometimes.” Sydney smiles at him, and Sid knows that he’s smiling too. “Anyway, thanks.”

“No problem,” She says. Her voice is definitely warmer. 

It annoys Sid to no end, but the thing is–it works. 

It’s still slow, but his co-workers definitely are more comfortable with him, as he peppers conversations with casual references to his boyfriend. It’s not much–Sid’s not a sharer by nature, and any more than that would be out of character–but he drops in stories about Geno, that they’ve seen each other. Little things, like he’s noticed Flower and Tanger do with their wives. 

It’s easy, anyway. He and Geno have known each other for years, even did live together for a brief summer that mostly worked, and they see each other plenty as friends. The stories he has of Geno could be adapted. He has to make up a little, on the edges–how they got together (right after graduation), a few things about like, anniversaries and such–but even that’s easy. Sid knows how Geno acts, in a relationship–the big, ridiculous romantic gestures and the quiet, abiding loyalty. He can imagine how that would fit with him. 

And Geno himself helps too–he’s started stopping by for lunch sometimes, and of course he charms everyone in the office. And, Sid knows, both because he can see it on them and because he knows how this works, they like to see how SId is with Geno. Sid, as Geno has informed him, can tend to be too serious, too intense; apparently having his boyfriend come in and try to bully him around and make Sid roll his eyes a lot humanizes him. 

“It’s okay, they figure out you big dork soon,” Geno tells him over lunch one day, when Sid tells him this. Sid rolls his eyes, but lets Geno pat him on the head and grin at him. Sid finds himself smiling back. It’s nice, spending this much time with Geno again. They haven’t hung out this constantly since college, probably, when they were always in and out of each other’s lives. It’s not that Sid ever forgot how much of a constant Geno was to him, how much he steadies him and pushes him, how funny he is, but having it all the time is…nice. 

And so is work–they’re coming together, Sid can feel it, how they’re uniting. The big fundraiser–a combination of science fair and art show for the kids, and a bit of a gala for the adults–is going to be great. Sid can feel it in his bones, and also in the work that’s happening. This is what he took this job for. 

Geno comes to the gala with Sid. He meets him there, because Flower and Vero had been sniffing around Sid’s apartment before he left–Sid suspects they can smell the fact that he’s in some sort of relationship, even if it’s fake–and they still haven’t told Flower or anyone else of their old college crew what they’re doing. At the potlucks, it’s still just them, and no one’s noticed. Apparently. 

But at the gala, it’s the work-them, the pretend them, so Geno finds Sid about half an hour in. Sid might be annoyed at him being late, but it’s Geno so he expected that, and anyway, Sid’s busy. 

Busy enough that he doesn’t notice Geno’s there until a hand lands on his shoulder, and Sid almost jumps out of his skin. 

“Just me,” Geno announces, laughing openly as the two people Sid was giving instructions to pretend not to laugh. “Not mean to scare.” 

“Yes you did,” Sid retorts, then, “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Geno smiles at him. He looks good–Geno’s always cleaned up well. And his eyes are warm as he clearly eyes Sid up back. “Look nice.” 

“Thanks.” Sid resists the urge, long out-grown, to shove his hands in his pockets. “Um, you too.” 

“I know,” Geno agrees easily, which makes Sid snort and nudge him with his shoulder. “Need help?” 

“Not right now, I think we’ve got it. You can go get a drink, I’ll find you–” 

“Take him with you,” Sam interrupts. “Please. We’ve got this, Sid. Go see your success.” 

“But–” 

“No, you hear,” Geno tells him, the hand that was on his shoulder sliding around his waist–an easy, proprietary motion. “Come on, we go see projects, talk people into giving money.” 

“Yeah, Sid. Go away.” Lisa adds, and Sid makes a face, but it’s good, really. That they’re comfortable enough to joke with him. 

“But text–” 

“We’ll keep you updated,” Sam assures him, and Sid lets Geno lead him away. 

It is fun, to see the kid’s projects. More, it’s rewarding, and Sid clocks the different donors wandering around. “G,” he mutters, “We have to go–” 

“Yes, I see,” Geno agrees. “Come, you smile, I be very charming, we get lots of money.” 

“Hey, I can be charming!” 

“Okay, Sid,” Geno agrees, clearly humoring him. “Let’s go.” 

They go. Geno is, as promised, very charming. Sid does smile, but he also talks plenty, which is, in fact, his job. 

“Is good? You satisfy?” Geno asks, after a few hours. Sid’s dragged him away for a second to breathe. “Get lots of donations.” 

“Yeah,” Sid agrees. He smiles as he looks out at the fundraiser. Then, “Thanks,” he says, not looking at Geno. “For–all this. It was ridiculous and risky, but it helped pull this off.” 

Geno nudges at his shoulder, so Sid has to look up at him. Geno’s beaming down at him, the small fond smile that he usually gives Sid bright on his face. It’s the same look he’s given Sid for years. “You and me, best team,” he says,  Always.” 

“Yeah, I know.” Sid’s known that for years. “But still, thanks.” 

Geno’s smiling at him. Then he’s–then something changes, for a fraction of a second, something Sid can’t quite catch. 

“G?” Sid asks. 

Geno shakes his head. “You know I’m always help, Sid. Whatever you need.” 

Sid does know that. Sid’s always known that. But it’s different here, with Geno so close to him, with him smiling that way that’s not the same. 

Sid’s not stupid. He knows himself, even if everyone always accuses him of being emotionally immature. He knows what the flip in his stomach means, even if he’s never felt it in this context before. With Geno. With Geno, of all people. 

But… “Yeah,” Sid says, and looks away again. He can’t–this is not what this was for. Not what creating a whole relationship between them, of conjuring everything he’d maybe want out of a relationship out of thin air, with Geno there to be funny and ridiculous and attractive to top it off. 

He’ll have to cut off the relationship, maybe. Tell Geno it’s over. If only to nip this thing in the bud, before it becomes more. 

“Okay?” Geno asks, and nudges Sid. Sid looks up at him again–at his smile, at his concern, at everything about him. His stomach twinges again. 

No, Sid’s not going to cut this off, he realizes. It’s stupid and reckless and maybe this is all Geno’s fault, because that’s not him, but–he’s going to take this as long as he can have it. 

“Yeah,” Sid says, smiling helplessly back at Geno. Geno is looking at him like he knows he’s lying. “I’m good.” 

[thevelvetlotus]

🌷🌻I stayed off the Internet yesterday, it felt nice. I spent some time with good people and ate 2 plates of dessert, both overflowing with luscious chocolate cakes, New York style cheesecake, the most delicious lemon cake I’ve ever tasted, all covered in generous amounts of whipped cream and juicy strawberries. There might be a third plate in my fridge and I might eat it for lunch today.🧁I didn’t cook anything for Easter this year but I did boil and color eggs. The traditional Polish Easter dinner is my very favorite and it’s been a few years since I’ve made any of the dishes. The meat pies and beet soup, the bigos, the gołabki, the cucumber soup!!! The flavor and aromas of Polish cooking is the ultimate comfort food, I crave it daily. I eat borscht every day. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. My lips are always just a little bit stained from all the beets I eat. Well, I’m rambling. Probably because I have sugar brain atm. I hope you all had a lovely weekend and please don’t forget that it’s Earth Day! Every day is Earth Day, but the collective energy we can use for a positive impact is there for our using today~so let’s not waste it! If you have children, making bird houses out of recycled materials is always fun! Take your kids to the ocean with gloves and bags to pick up trash and use your bicycles as much as possible! Sending big love to you all! ✌🏼💜🌸 Seja XO #easter #eggs #eastereggs #craft #love #peace #earthday #color #art #polish #polishfood #tradition #thevelvetlotus https://www.instagram.com/p/BwjwIhthNBR/?igshid=1dxj2vgnc4b1v

[wannawrite]

sweet crazy love [ pt.2 ]

who?: Wanna One’s Ong Seongwoo genre: 🌸🌺 type: bullet point - bc fic would be too long TW: blood, biting, fights, mention of PTSD, depression and psychiatry, supernatural experimentation - poison

blog navigator.

part two / two

part one

• vamp! AU • experiments don’t always work out…. and when they don’t, they go to the psychiatrist

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE!! Wishing you and your families a healthy, prosperous and fruitful year ahead. Also, HAPPY BELATED VALENTINE’S DAY!!! hope all of you spent it well with your loved ones :”)

- Admin L 

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners everything written here is purely fictional.

• ‘You look awful.’ The words spilt out of Minhyun’s mouth before he could stop them. The Tiffin he brought over began to unpack itself, settling into a nice arrangement in front or Seongwoo • ‘New power gained?’ He gestured to Minhyun aiming his fingers at each plate. • ‘yup. Discovered it while messing with Jaehwan’s shampoo yesterday.’ • for more vampire adventures with Minhyun and Jaehwan click here • Seongwoo felt slightly left out. He couldn’t drink real blood, depended mostly on human food and couldn’t build his powers up • ‘Did you go last night?’ Minhyun asked, handing Seongwoo a pair of chopsticks • shrugging and shoving rice into his mouth, Seongwoo directed Minhyun’s gaze to his veins that were coursing with blue coloured blood • ‘Asshole,’ Minhyun cursed. ‘I knew you shouldn’t have. He’s only testing more dangerous substances on you now.’ • Seongwoo’s recycling bin was overflowing with cartons of plasma juice • Minhyun nearly bumped into it and knocked it all over • ‘You need a new shipment.’ • ‘That I do,’ Seongwoo agreed whole-heartedly. He munched on his lunch while Minhyun dialled the supplier, The Middleman. • ‘I need a favour.’ • Seongwoo broke the silence, looking hopefully at his friend. • ‘Depends....’ • Minhyun looked slightly flustered and panicked, his mind working hard to figure out what Seongwoo could possibly need help with. • It seemed that his friend had a split second of deep thinking and consideration. Minhyun already knew he would agree with Seongwoo’s idea • ‘we need to expose Doc.’ • #Docisoverparty • ‘Dad?’ you called out into the darkness, pushing open your front door. ‘Dad I’m home. Mum?’ • ah, what the hell, Mum won’t be back so early from work. • Dad said he would be in though...but the house is drenched in darkness, not even the night lights are on • you had been meaning to come home for the weekend to tell your parents about your exciting internship, even though your father mentioned that he had the night off, no one seemed to be around • leaving the living room lights turned on, you ventured up the stairs to where your Dad’s study lay • usually, it would be padlocked - for no apparent reason - yet today, the door was ajar, light streaming out from the gap • you supposed your father was inside, probably hidden away in his material to notice your arrival • just as you were about to knock the door, your dad appeared. His eyes widened, startled by you. • ‘oh! hi dear.’ The sound of the heavy wooden door slammed echoed off the walls. ‘Didn’t see you coming in. I was just finishing up for the night.’ • your eyes rolled far back. ‘That’s what you constantly say and Mum will find you still working when she gets back at 11pm.’ • ‘see, this is why you’re such a huge inspiration to me Dad, you always work hard.’ • a look of guilt crossed your dad’s face before it diffused and was replaced by a contented smile • ‘enough about me, I’m anticipating hearing all about your internship over dinner! Follow me.’ • you walked down the staircase after your dad. Somehow, your heart seemed heavy and your feet seemed to want to lead you to whatever lay behind those birchwood doors • never once had any family member stepped foot into your father’s study • of course, when you and your cousins were children, he kept it locked, going on and on about how there were many dangerous types of equipment inside • it was for your safety • yet here you were, on the brink of graduating and becoming a doctor yourself, still kept in the dark of what Dad really did in there • strange • there was a stab in your chest, willing you to find out what kind of medicine he kept in his study • wow don’t we just love thickening plots I can’t believe I’m writing a BULLET POINT on this....it would be a two-part scenario if I was on holiday :”) • ‘When I said get help, I didn’t mean call every single one of our brothers....’ Seongwoo muttered to Minhyun in a hushed tone, looking out at his crowded living room, his blood brothers filling the place • ‘Oh come on.’ Minhyun smiled charmingly. ‘It was due time for a family gathering anyway. I still have yet to call the rest of them..... Besides, we’re going to need all the help we can get.’ • Seongwoo shot his best friend an unamused look, biting down hard on his lower lip. • ‘You really think exposing Doctor’s work to his family is going to be an easy feat? We may have natural-born abilities but they have technology on their side.’ • he let out a won-over sigh, nodding in agreement. ‘Well, everyone’s here already, what are we waiting for?’ • Minhyun’s lips stretched into a cheery smile. ‘Nightfall, my dear brother.’ • *NIGHT FALLS* • Dad: I’ll be at the office late tonight. Eat dinner without me. I’ll make sure your mother gets home sooner to accompany you • at that moment, you wanted nothing more than to throw your phone against the wall. • you were back for the weekend and although your parents claimed to miss you, they weren’t the best at showing it • yes, work was hard but couldn’t they spend more time with their child? • haven’t been to Dad’s work in a while,,,I should surprise him with dinner • perfect! • so you got pizza, called and Uber and rolled down to your dad’s office • an institute called Jowa Medical and Science Research Facility • I’m so uncreative rip • ‘Hi, I’m Dr ____’s family member. May I know which office he’s in right now?’ You asked the front desk cheerily • the man sitting behind wore a mask, but he was clearly grinning behind it. ‘Just a moment please.’ • hmm probably a newbie or intern • his name tag read Lee Daehwi • ‘ahh, he would be working right now in the Biomedical Research block. I’ll get someone to lead you to his office.’ • then, he proceeded to make a phone call, all too happily if you were serious • next, a man came to escort you. He too looked young and bright. • Name tag: Lai Guanlin • ‘hmm that’s as far as I can take you, follow my Professor, he’s better at negotiating with your dad.’ • again, something seemed...off with the teeth of these people • ‘you’ll need this.’ A man whose security pass read Park Jihoon handed you a white coat. ‘There are a lot of hazardous chemicals in the research facilities.’ • bye bye pizza you left in the hands of Lai Guanlin • who would devour the entire box by himself in a few seconds • everything seemed a little out of place today • uh...isn’t security a bit lax? • who are all these new young doctors? • whatever • can’t get killed anyway can I? • walking down a dim and silent corridor with an unfamiliar professor was something you didn’t plan on doing • ‘oh,’ he said, approaching what seemed to be a laboratory. ‘Looks like Dr _____ is in the middle of an important procedure.’ • he pointed to the flashing red light outside the door • ‘you’re welcome to wait in the observation room though.’ • huh? • wordlessly and with your heart HAMMERING against your chest, you followed him into a room next to the lab. It seemed to be separated by only a black screen. You figured it was meant for students to watch without distracting the professionals • WHY AREN’T YOU RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE • at the same time, it was thrilling to see your Dad working • however, his laboratory seemed a tad bit peculiar as well • there were jars and jars stamped with ‘TOXIC’ labels, everything seemed to be kept in pristine condition and carefully placed • many items seemed unfitting for a science lab. Explain the weird dentist reclining chair and were those torture devices ??? • what the hell? • Jihoon could hear all your thoughts and he was sending messages to all of his friends • vampires in clean white coats boasting stethoscopes were not a sight to be seen everyday • THERE WAS SOMEONE SITTING IN THE RECLINING CHAIR • ‘hey, isn’t that a person?’ you whispered to Jihoon. ‘Professor, is he okay? What is my dad going to do?’ • Professor Park kept silent and gestured for you to keep watching the procedure • every single cell in your body was telling you to leave • get out • but your eyes were trained on your father, hunched over a counter, drawing a strange orange liquid from a bottle reading ‘POSION’ • the syringe was the perfect size for a flu injection • but POISON? • ‘Professor Park! He’s going to poison that man! He’s going to kill him!’ You screeched, unable to believe whatever you were seeing. Your heart reeled, head spun. It felt as if someone had cracked your heart opened, maybe your brain • jihoon didn’t dare to say a word. • ‘STOP! DAD, STOP!’ • hmm, soundproofing was good down here • suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a digitalised screen with information written on it • it looked like a data document of some sort • Name of experiment: OSW • Supernatural type: Higher Vampire • what? • what the hell? • was this some kind of sick joke your Dad arranged? • what hidden camera show were you on? Candid Camera? • Drug Dose: 37ml of Ricin • ‘DAD, STOP! YOU’LL KILL HIM! HE’LL DIE!’ • by now, tears were flowing and gushing down your face. Your brain throbbed like blood flow had been paused, your chest ached. Ragged breaths began to replace your normal intake of oxygen • ‘HE’S GOING TO DIE!’ • the last thing you remember was the needle being stabbed into the man’s arm and the screen flashing red to read • Victim: ONG SEONGWOO, 122, HV • night night • Results: OSW has survived, heartbeat detected • when you woke up, you were still in your dad’s office, just in the medical side now • in an A class ward to be specific • but you were convinced it wasn’t any of your family members who put you here • Seongwoo was comfortably seated in one of the armchairs, flipping through the newspapers • he had a small bandage over his upper arm; proving that he had in fact gotten Ricin injected into his blood stream • and he survived from it...which next confirms the fact that he was a higher vampire • ‘Wakey wakey,’ Seongwoo chimes like an angel. • he’s far from it • ‘how are you alive? I saw my dad inject Ricin into your blood stream. Am I hallucinating?’ • A chuckle leaves his lips as the door opens and someone else slips into the room • ‘Hyung, Doc’s gone now. We’ve made sure of that,’ the voice announced. • ‘Thanks, Jinyoung.’ • you glared at Seongwoo as Jinyoung slipped out of the room. ‘What do you mean by gone?’ • ‘I mean, back home, safe and sound. He assumes you’re back in your dorm by now.’ • this didn’t seem like a man who just recovered from fatal poisoning • ‘You want to know what you father cooks up in his lab? Follow me.’ • it looked like you didn’t have a choice not to • never did you imagine the first time coming into contact with your dad’s work would be with a vampire and behind foreign doors • and breaking into a medical institutions well-guarded and somewhat hidden experiment laboratory • the lab smelled of burnt Sulfur, maybe hints of silver and wolfsbane. Jars stacked on tall shelves were filled with murky liquids and gooey objects sticking out of them • you shivered at the mere thought of it all • ‘your dad,’ Seongwoo began cautiously. ‘Likes to hunt and experiment on the supernatural.’ • I must be absolutely bonkers by now. • ‘I’m just one of the few living specimens he got his hands on.’ Seongwoo caresses a manila envelope tucked under a black binder • ‘There’s a whole list. Most of the higher vampires are my family.’ • my dad? supernatural? destroying someone else’s life? • doesn’t sound like it • ‘That’s impossible,’ you scoff in disbelief. ‘Supernatural don’t exist. You’re mocking me, Seongwoo.’ • you regret turning around to face him because he changed from a college kid Seongwoo to a bloodsucker within a matter of seconds • his fangs elongated, his eyes a crimson vermillion • ‘ugh, I need another plasma juice box.’ • you fought giggles. It was hard to keep a serious composure after seeing your batch mate glow in his true form and then sipping from a tiny carton of juice that resembled the ones your baby cousins drank from • ‘anyway, my point is that your dad has been testing on me and the side effects are so severe that I have to see Dr Im and down plasma juice by the shipments.’ • ‘uh, real blood would mess up his test results and he would beat me up with one of his torture devices,’ Seongwoo answered your unspoken question • ‘I just can’t believe any of it...’ • who could • my ass would have zayned right away good bye zai jian • ‘give me a week....’ • black water melded to fill your pools of vision • *a week and many messy thoughts later* • shrieking was the first thing Seongwoo’s ultra-sensitive hearing picked up when he entered Dr Im’s clinic for the third session • the voice was distinctly yours so he decided it would be good to tune in • ‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNEW AND NEVER TOLD ME! DR IM!’ • ‘I HAVE TO HELP HIM! I’VE KNOWN HIM SINCE HIGH SCHOOL EVEN THOUGH HE HATED ME BECAUSE HE KNEW I WAS PART OF MY DAD’S FAMILY! IT STILL HURTS.’ • ‘I can’t let him just waste away like this.....’ • ‘I just can’t....I’ll never forgive myself if I do.’ • by the way, the screaming and throwing of tissue boxes was enough for Seongwoo’s ears to hurt but he was happy he caught your exclamations • you care about him :D • how cute • WAIT NO I CAN’T BE CATCHING FEELINGS • eveN IF THEY FAINTED IN MY ARMS I CAN’T • Minhyun shoots him a smug smirk • ‘oh shut up.’ • ‘never said anything.’ • ‘IT’S CALLED AN INVASION OF PRIVACY!’ • ‘Dr Im is ready to see yo- SEONGWOO NO YOU CAN’T STRANGLE MINHYUN HERE.’ • *break bc i won’t really touch on the sessions* • from then on, Seongwoo tried as much to avoid your father and you tried to occupy your dad’s time • making excuses for family outings • hiding and throwing away his syringes • calling his work to turf him out of there early so that Seongwoo wouldn’t have to face anymore poison • it was a hard feat to convince him to stay away • because for every session he attended, he was sparing a life of his family member • your dad threatened to harm an Ong if Seongwoo didn’t comply by the rules • there was always a different excuse you had to cook up to get your dad home and out of his study • once, you even went to the extreme of changing the padlock on the door by stealing the key from your dad’s briefcase • you made about a 100 carbon copies before changing the lock back before he noticed • you just NEEDED Seongwoo to be safe and sound • the odd case he did go for an appointment, you would have to attend to a half-dead looking Seongwoo at 2am on the middle of your dining table • ‘sorry for the lack of operation table, I’m a psychology student.’ • sometimes, you had to rip away parts of his shirt to access whatever wound or vein affected • you lost count of the number of times colour suffused into your face • or the number of times you threatened to stab Seongwoo with a scalpel whenever he teased or complimented your blush in his drugged state • you wished you could dose him with anaesthetic so that he would shut up • Seongwoo was too playful for his own good • he just liked to tease and joke a lot, especially under the influence of whatever your dad was dosing him with • ‘you’re so cuteeeee when you blush. I love it.’ • and he would pout sulkily when you don’t respond • ‘are you ignoring meeee? Don’t you have feelings for meeeeeee?’ • annoying vamp • you would tell him to keep quiet unless he wanted a dead vein • catering to his supernatural needs was another thing • hiding a stack of plasma fruit juice under your bed was a different affair altogether • you also had to receive shady shipments in the middle of the morning so that none of your flatmates would get suspicious • they were like family to you but you would get suspicious if something with the label of ‘100% REAL PLASMA JUICE’ appeared at your doorstep • there was also an unholy amount of poison reversals stashed in your locked drawer • hmm your friends in the medical sector were beginning to get suspicious • all you needed to do was call a vampire over, hypnotise them, get your goods and hack into the security system to remove any footage • damn aren’t you glad you have royal and senior vampires like Yoon Jisung on your side to help with that? • ‘shut up Guanlin all you did was carry the bags of medicine and eat my pizza.’ • you often complained about Seongwoo’s younger brothers but they were an added joy in your life • ‘JINYOUNG I SAID PUT THAT SYRINGE DOWN NOW.’ • what a pain • sometimes Seongwoo would murmur incoherently in his dozy state and all you could catch were things along the lines of ‘pretty’, ‘I want to go to The Middleman’, ‘I want to kiss someone’ • uh yeah which made you a tad bit pissed off and receptive • ‘seongwoo, you better shut up before I stab you with this anaesthetic.’ • what are your feelings? • it’s like you hate him but you can’t seem to stop loving him? • it gets really intimate since you see him every single day and most of the time it is when he’s at his most vulnerable ??? • sessions with Dr Im • late night therapy while you’re fixing him up • texting him that you got your dad fixated on something else for that time • texting him to ask if he’s been taking the prescribed pills • you just...suddenly found yourself gaining a close friend and maybe some new feelings • why not? • seongwoo was dangerous, sometimes annoyingly loud and cocky with a devilish glare yet he was funny, playful, open with you and genuine • every night you got your dad’s tools away from him, there was a cup of your regular order from the cafe you first met waiting for you at Dr Im’s office • she wouldn’t say who brought it >:( oh ho ho but you knew all too well • he was TOO KIND for his own good • even if he was a jerk sometimes haha • you just started to like him...more than a friend • so when he started saying stuff like that, you just felt like crying and stabbing him with a needless syringe • like why? aren’t I the one who is always holding you close and protecting you? Isn’t it my apartment you run to? Why? • it’s just super pressing and irritating, heart-wrenching even • who was the one printing out his lecture notes and delivering them to his dorm? who was it tracking his mental health progress? • one night, Seongwoo texted you to open the door,,,even when you knew there wasn’t anything scheduled • he just stumbled into your arms the moment you peeled open the door. • hmm no traces of alcohol • ‘babeee,’ Seongwoo drawled out, completely oblivious to the words that came out of his mouth. ‘Guess what?’ • ‘I don’t want to. I’m calling Minhyun, just hang in there.’ • I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS • ‘I got my first taste of real blood. It was from a blood bag of course and it was from an animal, I think I’m allergic to human blood.’ He suddenly frowns. ‘Besides, I won’t want to upset youuu.’ • oh god is he tipsy because all he’s been living on are these fruit juices • ‘why not?’ you challenge, your fingers stop punching in Minhyun’s contact • Seongwoo wraps his arms around your shoulders with a giddy smile on his face. ‘I looove you! I do! Ever since graduation when you found out my secret but never told anyone.’ • your cheeks redden and you send Seongwoo straight to your bed, tucking him in tightly so he can’t escape • he’s worse on blood than on poison...what is this logic? • ‘nooo!’ he whines, grabbing your wrist. ‘Don’t leave me. You’ve never have and you won’t now....will you?’ • oh man look at this baby even his fangs are beginning to show someone help him • you’re helpless against his iron-grip so you settle with him, cuddling until he shuts his eyes • phew, I can leave to call Minhyun now • ‘I also like you...’ • huh ??? • there’s a yearning in your heart, you want to know why • so you grab his hand and stick by his side • like you always have • ‘You’ve always been there for me. No matter what. Even though I’m technically not supposed to exist at all.....’ • your heart melts into a puddle, you can’t handle all your pent-up emotions • ‘I told Minhyun I would marry you when we’re ready....’ • SLEEP TALK IS THE BEST TALK • are you crying or are you crying? • ‘w-when w-we were young....we swore that we would marry the person who was there for us even in the most difficult of situations.....’ • SOB SOB SOB • IDK WHY MY EYES ARE SWEATING RN • SEONGWOO STOP • ‘you helped me so much.....’ • he gets sleepier and sleepier, dozing off into oblivion • a small smile stretches across his face when you kiss his forehead and run a hand through his hair • WHO WOULDN’T • ‘you are here for me even when the night falls.’ • and he’s out • you can’t comprehend it now, perhaps not ever • it’s just his secret love that’s bloody sweet and would drive anyone else but you absolutely crazy • okay this isn’t meant to be dark or anything like that and I spent a whole WEEK on this no joke I’m crying • but basically, we should accept and love each other’s flaws and differences • I don’t believe supernatural exist in real life so please don’t be scammed friends ahaa • see y’all next week! • 💖💕💓

[indischen]

Fine Jewelry And Endless Love Make This Holiday Season Just Perfect

When in doubt think fine jewelry. The trick to mastering gift-giving is generating the feeling of true togetherness and endless love. More importantly, heartfelt jewelry is what she truly wants to take her style to a total put together look while feeling content in a heartfelt place.

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This necklace is an elevated yet affordable rendition of the classic pearl trend.

Alexa Leigh:

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Atom&Matter:

Atom&Matter-The Sapphire Star Station Necklace launched as part of Atom&Matter’s debut collection and is reflective of the brand’s offering of delicate, celestial-inspired pieces. The necklace is sustainably and ethically handcrafted using recycled silver, plated with either 14K yellow or rose gold vermeil, and features the highest quality white sapphire embellishments. Digital pioneer Bethany Mota launched Atom&Matter out of a desire to form a community of likeminded all linked by something tangible: jewelry, and with every purchase of the brand’s luxurious, yet accessibly priced pieces, a donation will be made to organizations dedicated to the mentorship of young women worldwide.

Catbird:

Catbird-The original close-hugging pearl hoop now shines even brighter, with a sparkling recycled diamond that shimmies and shakes, and floats almost magically.

Charles & Colvard:

Charles & Colvard—Easy and effortless, a simple stackable ring will help anyone capture one of the top trends of the season. This style features two round Forever One moissanite accent stones with a shiny 14K gold band. This is the perfect gift that is stylish and socially responsible.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and wishing you all the best in the stylish New Year ahead.