#do u think he ever just starts laughing because of how accurately he predicted everything musky ellen did

[chronicowboy]

rian johnson watching elon musk sink twitter after he wrote an incredibly prophetic and accurate screenplay:

[jiminrings]

Hey bb! First of all, let me just tell u how much I love your writing! You're fabulous, love. Don't ever doubt yourself. Secondly, I wanted to know if u could do a college professor! Jungkook and pretty student reader where Jk is absolutely enamoured by her.. (also, with a bit of the good ol smut🤭) It's a-okay if u can't tho! Just know that you're appreciated!❤️

the probability of us

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 6k

glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

notes: there’s something so warm about this request that it made me write it as an actual fic and not a bullet one!!! i did alter it a little bit but i was genuinely so happy writing this so thank you sO much for this babe :D // gif from pinterest!

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university. 

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class. 

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him. 

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk. 

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?” 

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn’t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?” 

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.” 

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?” 

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.” 

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways. 

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either. 

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly. 

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed. 

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are. 

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head. 

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.” 

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I wanna be with you.”

[embrassemoi]

(1/8) *inhales* *starts screaming like a howler* IT'S HAPPENING OH MY GOD IT'S HAPPENING! Honestly, you have no idea after how many times I checked tumblr after your sbtmas update post. I don't even know where to begin. Probably I should start with moony, right! When he took her flying and asked her to let go of her hands, it kind of reminded me of *that* scene from titanic but with stars and actual flying (sorry jack dawson but remus lupin is and always will be superior). It was just so, so

*inhales too and starts screaming back* HOLY - IT'S HAPPENING! AHHHHHH! REMUSSSSS! AHHHHHHHH - KEEP CALM !!!!!

Ah! now that you mention it, it also reminds me of that 'I'm flying' from titanic!

(2/8) beautiful. I cannot even begin listing everything I loved about that scene or else I would have to copy and paste the entire thing here. "But now, watching her glow, it dawned on Remus that he was holding the golden beam that threatened to paint the midnight sky gold." I mean- I probably read this three times because *screaming* HE'S IN LOVE, YOUR HONOR!!! Also I love, love, love the sun, moon and stars being used to represent mc, remus and sirius. It's kind of interesting sun is actually

I WANT YOU TO KNOW I WAS 100% SCREAMING WHILE WRITING THAT ENTIRE SCENE LMFAO! I'm glad you liked it! It was definitely *so far* one of my favourite scenes to write

(3/8) a star so they are similar and belong together, but also the moon and sun are kind of opposites and opposites attract and complete each other. So both sirius and remus are good matches for her but have very diffrent dynamics... I don't know, I am probably overthinking again. But I just don't know who to ship her with at this point. And I don't think you are going to fast with their relationship, their relationship progressed so naturally and beautifully, especially since the beginning

Well when I was in the planning stages of figuring out what I wanted to really add in this fic, one of the first things that came to mind was taking advantage of the moon and star metaphors. it makes things so much more romantic / angsty and plus - they're there. what am I supposed to do - not use the absolute gold I have at my finger tips? (see what I did there)

and no! I always encourage predictions being made. some of my readers have been scarily accurate and it scares the fuck outta me but they're hilarious to read! Like I had one clever reader send in a prediction of what was going to happen and my jaw dropped. Spot on!

also for the MC and remus' relationship progressing - I had to cut out so m u c h because it really was too rushed. But don't worry, it'll be moved to other upcoming chapters!

(4/8) of the sixth year. Okay, I know this chapter was remus' time to shine but can we talk about sirius for a minute? The way he looked at with so much vulnerability in front of everyone. Couple of chapters ago he didn't even cast a spell at her during their duel and bowed in front of her. Considering how romantic feelings are foreign to him, it's crazy to see how much he grown to care for her in a short amount of time. I can't help but love their chemisty, even after everything that happend.

SIRIUS! darling... I feel awful. I can't wait to write his POV of how he's feeling sometime in the near future.

yeah, I was also trying to go for the intense guilt he feels about everything so :p I love torturing characters, don’t I?

(5/8) And there were so many little things in this chapter that made me so happy. McLaggen already started causing drama and I'm so here for it. Sybill celebrating her birthday. Matthew being the best friend ever (When gaplin family owl arrived, i though something happend to him and I was terrified). Lily finally talking to mc again! Regulus' extravagant gift! But being dramatic must be a Black family thing. I can't belive he got her a ring that practically screams "the noble and most ancient

McLaggen - stirring the pot. sly mother fucker haha!

Matthew made a little cameo! I love writing him :D!!!! I have a few things in store for his arch and ughhhh ahahahahah. and omg! no! If I was going to hurt Matthew, I wouldn't do It this early. (That sounds like a threat haha)

(6/8) house of black" while hiding their friendship. Somebody bound to connect the dots (sirius maybe?), right? And he's with his parents for "an event"? Very suspicious. P.S. Bc I'm not creative with names (like remus' parents) I was calling the bunny furry little problem the second or moony jr. in my head. And as for name... flopsy could be cute. I know it's very stereotypical but there was a children's book called "the tale of flopsy bunnies" and I feel like remus might have been familiar

Lmfao fucking Regulus - or really the black family - always one for the dramatic. I can't wait to *eventually* write more of dramatic ass Sirius.

I've also been referring to the bunny as 'furry little problem' in my head haha!

(7/8) with muggle children's books because of his mother and idk, naming a pet after a book character feels like something he would do. Also floppy and flops were some of the nicknames james used to call mc, so it could be cute (But owl bait is also a brilliant name as well). P.P.S. Can we talk about how after mc comes to his dorm for the "bunny time" (very cute btw) remus said something like "i feel like you're using me for my pet" and in one of the previous chapters mc told him he was using

- also I'm surprised you remember that part about James calling her 'Flops' ETC considering I only mentioned it briefly. Wow! And you're absolutely right, it would be such a cute call back to the MC!

I'm going to be running a 'poll' (idk if I should call it that) sometime within the next few days of a list of name suggestions I've gotten and let readers choose the name! and I'll totally add your suggestion to the list. love it!

(8/8) her for the casette player. I don't know if it was intentional but for some reason that made me laugh so hard. And seems like I talked way too much again thank you for this chapter and thank you for listening/reading my ramblings, I guess. *screaming stops* *howler rips itself into pieces* -🌸

It was intentional! I'm glad you caught on!

and thank you for rambling, as always I loved reading it! Made my week :D xx I wish you a wonderful day/evening 😊

[pengychan]

[Coco] The Bedside Ghost, Ch.11

Title: The Bedside Ghost Summary: The bell falls but, instead of waking up in the Land of the Dead, Ernesto de la Cruz finds himself with a broken spine - and an unwanted guest at his bedside who claims he can let him have the sweet release of death, if he gives back what he took from him… Characters: Ernesto de la Cruz, Coco Rivera, Héctor Rivera, Julio Rivera, Imelda Rivera. Rating: T Status: in progress [This is the fic’s tag for all chapters up.]

[Also on Ao3]

A/N: Well. It was about the real Héctor showed up. Keep in mind that this is set about 26 years after his death, so while he's not precisely living it up, he's not doing as badly as he is in the movie - he may not be talked about or able to cross the bridge, but there are several living people who still remember him well. I figure the real trouble for him started when they began to die out.

***

The day of Héctor Rivera’s long-due funeral, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky as far as the eye could see; a warm, bright day that seemed almost an hymn to life.

Coco didn’t know how to feel about it. The sun shone, life went on without him as it had all those years and there was a new life growing in her, another grandchild her papá would never meet. Because there would be another; the doctor had confirmed as much.

Julio, bless his soul, had been almost more shocked to be told he would become a father for the second time than by… anything else she had told him, really, which would have been a lot to take in for anyone. She and her mother had reunited the family in the workshop - after sending Victoria off to a friend’s house despite her protests, because she was still much too young to hear the full story - and told them everything.

There had been shock, and plenty. Julio had hardly let go of her hand for a moment, and Rosita had cried once or twice, but neither of them had looked quite as stunned as Tío Óscar and Tío Felipe. They had known both her papá and Ernesto, after all. “I cannot be,” Tío Felipe had blurted out, eyes wide. His twin had immediately echoed his thoughts.

“They grew up together, they were...”

“... Two peas in a pod since before we knew them…”

“Like Felipe and me!”

“Well, almost like the two of u--”

“No, nothing like the two of you,” their sister had cut them off, forcefully, and they’d immediately fallen quiet, an identical apologetic look on their faces. 

They all had promised to say nothing for a time; first they’d bury and mourn him, and make sure everyone knew he’d died only months into his tour - that he hadn’t, after all, ever meant to abandon his family.

“First we clear his name and give him a decent burial,” her mother had said, putting away the business card that Armando Abascal had left them. “We can deal with the rest later.”

Despite the fact the town was still reeling from the news of Ernesto de la Cruz’s death, and wondering whether the body would return to Santa Cecilia at all - talk that was impossible to escape, and that never failed to make her mother scowl - there had been quite a few people at her papá’s funeral; not only family, but also people who had known him before.

“Should have known he wouldn’t have walked out on you just like that,” elderly Raimundo, who’d gifted Coco wood-carved figurines when he came to buy his shoes from them, had said while placing a hand on her arm. “I saw him growing up. Should have known better.”

We all should have known better, Coco had thought, but just nodded in silence.

The funeral had been a simple matter, with the priest reading out a very predictable passage - “Because this, my son, was dead, and he is alive; he was lost, and now he is found” - as the casket was lowered in the ground. The attendees had stayed for some time, and then left; Julio had wanted to stay, but Coco had convinced him to go home with Victoria.

“You should rest, too. The baby--”

“It won’t be long,” she’d promised, and her husband had nodded. A kiss on the lips and he was off to go home, their little girl on his shoulders. Coco watched them leave, a stab of envy in her gut - how low of her, being envious of her own daughter for having a father, but she couldn’t help it - and then walked up to her mother, the widow, who stood in silence over the grave. Her black dress was stark contrast to the colourful flowers all around the tomb.

They stayed quiet for several long minutes before her mamá broke the silence. “He’s home.”

“Yes, mamá. He’s home,” Coco said softly, eyes resting on the wooden cross that would soon be replaced with a proper headstone. Another silence, and it probably would have stretched if not for the shrill voice that rang out suddenly, causing both to recoil.

“Abuelita! Mamá!”

Coco turned to see Victoria running into the cemetery and up to them, and she had no time to call out and ask what was wrong before Victoria reached her, gripped her dress and tilted her head up. “There is a woman at home,” she panted. “She says she has Abuelito’s guitar.”

***

Héctor was almost at his front door when he realized he was being followed.

He was usually much more aware than that of his surroundings, if anything because he’d stepped over a good amount of toes - especially in his attempts to cross the bridge - but at the moment, he was too busy thinking about his latest crossing plan to bother.

This time he would succeed for sure, because he’d had the best idea and only needed the right kind of fluorescent paint, a blanket, some rope, maybe fake horns. No one would question an alebrije crossing the bridge, would they? Of course not. He’d saunter right past the checks and, once he did, nothing could stop him. The crossing guards could babble all they wanted on how the bridge itself wouldn’t let him cross: Héctor would power through the entire damn thing if need be, but he would make it to the other side.

It was easy to think he could actually push through it: it had been a good week, and he couldn’t remember last time he’d felt so full of energy. Even the guys from the band he played with from time to time had noticed as much earlier that day, when they’d met to play for the quince años of a girl who had died only weeks before her fifteenth birthday, and whose grandparents had still wanted her to celebrate it on the day.

“Someone’s talking about you,” old Chicharrón had muttered as they took a short break.

That  had snapped Héctor - who had been looking at the celebrating family, faintly wondering what Coco’s quince años had been like - from his thoughts. “Huh?”

“They say that when you feel good all of a sudden, it’s because someone on the other side is talking about you a lot,” Cheech had muttered. “Hope they stop soon, if it makes you this insufferable. Quit jumping around like that while we play, will you?”

Héctor had laughed it off, of course - Cheech was grumpy but not a bad guy, or else he wouldn’t had put in a word with the others to let him play with them a couple of years back - and gone on with the performance, more determined than ever to cross the bridge that year.

Celebrations had gone on well into the night and now, as he walked back home through empty streets, he began weighing his options. Where could he find the right paint? He knew a few people he could ask, but truth be told he’d sort of pissed them off a while ago. But maybe, if he managed to pull the right ropes, he’d--

A skittering sound snapped Héctor from his thoughts, and he stopped in his tracks. There was that noise again, closer, and he turned to an empty street. Still, he wasn’t alone; he felt it in his marrow. “Who’s there?” Héctor called out, turning, the guitar held up in front of him just in case. He’d been jumped only once or twice, but both had been unpleasant experiences he’d rather not repeat. “Anita, if it’s about that gambling debt, I already told you--”

“Yip! Yip!”

Héctor blinked, then laughed and lowered the guitar when he saw four tiny alebrijes - chihuahuas, more accurately - scampering towards him, tails wagging. He crouched down, letting them jump up at him. Two of them rolled on their back for a belly rub, which he was all too willing to give. “Oh, so you have been following me! You gave me a scare, half-pints. If you’re hoping for a snack, sorry, but I ate all the chupalines and--”

“Heel,” a voice called out, very quietly, cutting him off. Héctor looked up, startled; there was a man standing maybe ten meters from him, wearing dark trousers and a white shirt. He hadn’t been there before - maybe he’d emerged from one of the side streets - and Héctor couldn’t see his features and markings clearly enough to tell if it was someone he knew.

But it was someone the alebrijes knew, clearly: they immediately scurried back to him… or at least, two of them did. The other two stayed on their back, clearly expecting more belly rubs, only joining the others when the man called out again. “Diablo, Zita - ven aquí.”

As the dogs ran to the man, Héctor stood again, warily. He picked up the guitar, if anything to have something in his hands to swing if needed. It was beginning to look uncomfortably like the guy, whoever he was, had set his alebrijes out specifically to find him.

“Who’s there?” he called out, taking a step back. The man uttered something - an order for hs alebrijes to stay behind, it seemed, because they all sat - and, after a moment of stillness, he stepped forward, close enough to a streetlight for his features to become visible.

It was… not a face he recognized, exactly. Those markings looked very distinctive, but he had never seen them before. And yet… yet, that voice...

“... Héctor?” he called out, his tone hesitant and shoulders hunched, and for a moment Héctor felt as though something had hit him in the face. He was looking at a skull rather than the face he remembered, of course, and something about his mannerism felt wrong - his friend had always carried himself so proudly, his head held high, his voice loud and impossible not to recognize even from a distance - but still, there could be no mistake.

“Ernesto,” he gasped, dropping the guitar. It clattered on the cobblestones, and he paid it no mind at all. “Dios mío, then… you actually died, there were rumors from new arrivals… but they said you never showed up, we assumed they were exaggerating, there were talks you had died so many times since your accident…” Héctor babbled, and then words failed him.

He suddenly felt incredibly stupid for talking and talking like that, with his best friend there after so many years, and he crossed the distance between them to throw his arms around him. He didn’t even fully register he way Ernesto had stiffened, without returning the hug; after all, he was still probably not used to being all bones just yet.

“Ay, Ernesto, it’s so good to see you! I… how did you-- when did you-- how are you holding up, amigo?” he exclaimed, and pulled back, both of his hands on Ernesto’s shoulders. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” he added. That caused Ernesto’s features to twist for a moment, something almost painful crossing them, and Héctor mentally kicked himself.

Right, he was just deceased. Not the right moment for death jokes, was it?

“Look at you - you’re better looking than me even as a skeleton, how unfair is that?” he asked, a whiny quality to his voice, and smiled broadly when Ernesto’s mouth twitched in a smile of his own. It was faint, but it was there. “Oh, that makes you happy, doesn’t it, cabrón? Is that gray in your hair?”

“... Is that a golden tooth?”

“I like to think it gives me a roguish kind of charm.”

“Ah.”

“The right answer would be ‘yes, absolutely’.”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Héctor laughed. “That was awful, but I’ll pretend it was convincing. Ay, I’ve missed you. I heard all about your accident five years ago - that must have been horrifying, I’m so sorry! How does it feel to be a free man again?” he asked. Few details about Ernesto’s condition had made it to the Land of the Dead after the bell had fallen on him, but what little he’d heard - that it had left him bedbound, unable to move or feel anything from neck down - had made his chest cavity ache for him. It ached now, too, to even think about it.

That finally got an actual smile out of Ernesto. “Amazing,” he replied, and Héctor smiled back, patting his shoulder. It was awful to think that his life had become so unbearable death had been a relief, but now that relief had come they may as well celebrate it.

“This calls for a toast. Come over, my place is just around the corner! I should have some tequila left. There’s so much I’ve got to ask--” he trailed off with a yelp when Ernesto suddenly grasped him, holding onto him as tight as Héctor had before.

He blinked, taken aback, when Ernesto spoke quietly. “Lo siento, Héctor.”

“Oye, oye, it wasn’t your fault,” Héctor protested, pulling back and causing Ernesto to blink. “Look, I’m sorry too. About that argument, for deciding to leave with no warning. I thought about it for a long time. I know we made up, but a fight wasn’t one of the last memories I would have wanted to have of you, you know?”

“Héctor--”

“And then that chorizo, stopping to eat was my idea, not yours. A stupid idea, that place was definitely seedy, but performing always made me hungry, you know--”

“No, Héctor--”

“... I just went and croaked in the middle of the street, you had to watch me die, it must have been a rough night for you as well…”

“I--”

“And having to break the news to my family, I’m so sorry it fell on your to - oh, you have to tell me everything!” Héctor exclaimed, realization suddenly hitting him like a bolt of lighting. That was his chance to know what had become of his family in those twenty-six years! Ernesto would know, Ernesto would be able to tell him how they were faring! Of course he would know in a few weeks’ time, because this year he would cross the bridge, but the sooner he could have news, the better.

“Imelda and Coco, how are they? I could never cross the bridge, something must have happened to my photo, but I think about them every day! Coco must be a woman now - and Imelda, how is she? You’ve been in touch, right? I mean, if she gave you the songs and all...”

Any expression on Ernesto’s face seemed to fade into something unreadable. “You could say that. I… let’s go to your place. I believe we need to talk in private.”

Something about that caused a chill to run up Héctor’s spine. “What… is everything all right? Ernesto, are they all right?” he asked. He hadn’t meant to let panic show in his voice, but it must have, for Ernesto reached to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes. Yes, they are all right. I made sure of it, I promise. All is well, they…” a pause, then, “You’re a grandfather, you know.”

If he’d had a heart in his chest, Héctor was sure it would have skipped a beat or two or twenty there and then. “I am… what?”

“Her name is Victoria. She’s almost five.”

Héctor could feel the biggest, dumbest grin spreading on his face. “Abuelo Héctor,” he muttered, and laughed. “My little girl has a little girl! This really calls for a toast! Come with me, and… aren’t your alebrijes coming?”

“... No. They can wait for me here,” he replied. Something seemed off about Ernesto’s voice, but Héctor assumed he was still reeling from, well, dying. That was all right, he thought as he led the way to his apartment, explaining how he played on his own or with other musicians at events and stuff to make ends meet. He’d feel better once he got used to it, and Héctor was ready to help every step of the way.

That’s what amigos are for, after all.

***

When they arrived home Griselda López was sitting at the kitchen table, a small suitcase and a guitar case on the floor by her chair, talking with Rosita over a cup of coffee.

She looked tired, and yet Coco could tell a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. That, she supposed, was understandable: she had been watching over a man’s slow agony for five years, after all, and it had finally come to an end.

“... Tiring, yes, but overall pleasant,” she was saying. “Last time I was in this part of Mexico it was… oh, at the beginning of the Revolution, I believe. Not a time of my life I look upon very fondly, I’m afraid - I lost both of my brothers in the space of a year, in opposite factions.”

“Oh! That must have been dreadful, I am so sorry,” Rosita said, shuddering slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to Julio, or… oh, Coco! Mamá Imelda! Here you are!”

Her exclamation caused Griselda to look up at them, and smile. “Señora Rivera. Coco,” she greeted them with a slight nod, and moved as though to stand up. Coco opened her mouth to tell her not to worry, but her mother got there first and gestured for her to stay seated.

“Rosita, would you please give us a few minutes?” she asked, and Coco realized it was neither Rosita nor Griselda she was looking at: her eyes were fixed on the guitar case. “There are a few things I believe we should discuss in private.”

“Oh. Of course,” Rosita replied, standing up. There was some disappointment on her face - she was clearly very curious to know what the visit was all about - but she didn’t try to insist. As the door closed behind her, leaving only the three of them in the kitchen, Coco sat at the table across Griselda. Her mother kept standing, her expression unreadable.

“I don’t believe I had a chance to say I’m sorry for your loss,” Griselda spoke, breaking the silence. Coco opened her mouth to thank her, but her mother spoke first.

“Last I saw you, you stood between me and my husband’s murderer,” she said, very quietly.

Griselda looked back at her, unfazed. “Last you saw me, I was doing my duty.”

“Your duty to a murderer.”

“A duty of care towards a patient, and to keep you from doing something you’d regret.”

That caused her mother’s lips to curl into an odd smile. “I wouldn’t be that certain I’d have regretted it,” she said, and sat, the smile still on her lips. “Did you see him die?”

“I was with him until the very end, yes.”

“I wish it had been me in your place.”

“I wish it had been anyone but me.”

“Did he at least suffer?”

Griselda paused for a moment, and her gaze flickered towards Coco before she turned her attention back on he mother. “I have not come here to share details of his last moments in this world,” she said, very quietly, and reached to take the guitar case on the floor. She put it on the table, sliding it towards them; Coco heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath.

She says she has Abuelito’s guitar.

“One of el señor de la Cruz’s last requests to me was that I returned this to you.”

Slowly, as though moving underwater, Imelda Rivera reached for the guitar case and opened it. Inside was the beautiful white guitar Coco remembered in her father’s hands, the one Ernesto had stolen and played for the world - the one he’d stolen from him along with a songbook, and his life. The guitar her mother had gifted to him for their wedding.

There was a pang of something painful in Coco’s chest as she watched her fingers brushing over the decorated, polished wood in a caress, just as they had over her papá’s casket at the funeral, before it was lowered into the ground. Coco put a hand on her arm, and her mother let out a long breath, finally pulling her hand away from the guitar to place it on her own.

The faraway cast faded from her eyes, and she set her jaw before looking back at Griselda across the table, closing the guitar case with a clack. “My husband’s guitar. What was he hoping to gain by sending it back? Our forgiveness? Our silence?”

“He left instructions for it to be returned after he died, señora Rivera. He hoped for nothing,” was Griselda’s quiet reply, and she took something from her suitcase to place something on top of the guitar case - two reels of tape. “Not for your forgiveness, nor for your silence. I assume el señor Abascal has been in touch,” she added, and glanced at Coco, who nodded.

Armando Abascal and been in touch, yes - had even travelled to Santa Cecilia to speak to them personally, when they had both been in Mexico City. He’d left a business card, though, and Coco had called the number on it from a phone booth. She’d expected to talk with a cold, defensive businessman; the voice on the other hand had been hesitant at times, and even somewhat awkward, but he’d been surprisingly willing to listen.

“He told me he’s just learned that my father wrote the songs, and that he wants to put it right,” Coco said, and gave a small smile. “He talked about credit and royalties an awful lot. We will discuss those, I suppose, before we make it all public. We don’t care about royalties that much. All we care about is that my papá gets credit for his music.”

“That is good to know.”

Coco nodded. “He’s been nothing but helpful, for all that Erne-- de la Cruz said about the record company being a danger. I have to wonder if he made up the threat to keep me from--” she added, only to pause when, slowly, Griselda shook her head.

“Abascal has been nothing but helpful because he was left with no choice. El señor de la Cruz made sure that he’d stand to lose more if he worked against you,” she said, and Coco recoiled a little, suddenly reminded of Ernesto’s message at the hotel’s lobby.

Everything is sorted out. Worry of nothing but finding him.

Coco hadn’t wondered, then, how had he sorted it out; there simply hadn’t been enough time for her to. But now, she wanted to know. Slowly, Coco’s eyes shifted to the tapes. A thought hit her, almost too absurd to be possible. “Those recordings,” she said. “Did he…?”

Griselda nodded, and pushed a tape towards her. “He confessed to taking credit for your father’s songs, yes. He told Abascal that if anything happened to you, it would go to the press. I honestly do not know how much of a danger that man would have truly been, but de la Cruz decided to take... preventive measures.”

“Assuming everyone’s heart to be as black as his own,” her mother said coldly.

“Perhaps. He asked me to ensure you had it after his death, in case Abascal tried to back off. And here,” she added, handing her mamá the other tape, “he confessed to the murder.”

For a moment, neither Coco nor her mother spoke. They exchanged a quick, incredulous glance before turning back to Griselda. “Am I supposed to believe,” her mamá spoke, her voice tight, “that that monster’s dying wish was for us to be sent proof of what he did?”

“Not precisely his dying wish, but it was his wish nonetheless. He specifically asked me to ensure you received the guitar and the tapes. To give you leverage if you ever needed it, I suppose. And a choice.”

That caused her mother to fall quiet, and Coco found she didn’t know what to say either, an odd numbness taking her over. She could only stare at the guitar case, and the tapes - a full confession of all he had done, to be sent to them after his death, when it could no longer benefit him in any way - for several moments. Eventually, it was Griselda to speak again.

“I am glad to know your late husband will have all the due credit for his music. I know you have not made the truth on how he died public yet,” she said, very gently, and stood. “If you wish to, and lack of proof is what keeps you from doing so, that tape is all you need. He confessed to everything. What you decide to do with it is up to you alone.”

Her mother said nothing, gaze fixed on the tape in her hands, and Coco knew she needed a minute alone with her thoughts. So she stood, and accompanied Griselda outside.

“Thank you very much for coming, and for… for everything, really,” she said. “If you’d like to stay for the night…”

Griselda shook her head with a small chuckle. “Oh, no, not at all. I do believe it is best I leave you alone and go my way. I have a friend in San Luz; I was planning to get on the first bus there, and spend a couple of weeks with her. I do need some rest, I believe.”

“What are you going to do next?”

“I’ll probably retire. Age has crept up on me; in these past few months, every task has felt harder,” she said, and smiled faintly. “El señor de la Cruz has left me an exaggerated amount of money. I’ll donate most to the church, and the rest will still be more than enough for me.”

“I see. Have a safe journey to San Luz.”

“Thank you, dear. I wish you all the best,” Griselda replied, and turned from her as they reached the gate - only to stop after a couple of steps when Coco called out. There was something she had to ask, she had to know.

“Did he really ask you to give us the guitar and the tapes, or was it your doing?”

She looked back at her, and seemed slightly offended at the notion. “Of course he did. I would never lie over a such thing.”

“I apologize. It’s just… there are plenty of people who may still love him even after knowing he took credit for someone else’s songs. His last years were hellish enough for the public to be lenient on him. But a murder confession - we could destroy his reputation in minutes.”

“I am sure he was well aware, dear.”

“... I see,” Coco murmured. Thinking back of the red songbook, sent back to her at the hotel, she found the notion didn’t really surprise her after all. “Did he suffer, before he died?”

Griselda stared at her for a moment, as though debating whether to answer, then sighed.

“He did,” she replied. “Sepsis is… not a good way to go. But knowing of your blessing helped. He became unconscious minutes after hearing of it, and didn’t wake up again. He just let go there and then. If you hadn’t… I feel he may be still clinging to life, after all.”

Coco nodded. “I’m... glad I gave him that blessing, whether he deserved or not,” she said, and realized the truth of it only as it left her lips.

Griselda smiled. “You have a good heart.”

“Not as good as you think. I’m not happy he’s dead, I suppose. But I am glad that he’s gone.”

“I think anyone would be in your place,” Griselda replied. “Whatever you decide to do next, I do hope this gives you closure. Perhaps this is the reason why the Lord saw it fitting to spare his life, that day in 1942.”

Or maybe something above decided he simply deserved to suffer, Coco thought, but didn’t say as much. “Perhaps,” she murmured instead, and smiled a bit. “By the way - your hunch was right, you know. I’m twelve weeks in.”

Griselda López - who would go to sleep one night eighteen months later, and awaken to an afterlife that was quite different from how she’d always imagined it to be - blinked at her in confusion for a moment, and then smiled. “Ah, that is amazing news. My congratulations, dear. And you went through so much, too. I am certain your papá would be proud of you.”

Something in Coco’s chest ached, and yet she found herself smiling back.

“Never as much as we are of him.”

***

“A business of her own, really? I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, it’s Imelda we’re talking about - of course she didn’t just get a job, no señor, she built a business! Isn’t she amazing?”

“Remarkable, yes,” Ernesto said, eyes wandering across the apartment - a small one, but better than plenty of places where they had slept in in their youth - before turning back to the glass of tequila in his hand. He’d drank with Héctor, of course, because he’d been expected to, but each glass had tasted more bitter than the previous, and soon enough he couldn’t force any down his non-existent throat anymore.

He’d busied himself talking instead, telling Héctor everything Coco had told him about her family - Imelda’s shoe-making business, Coco’s husband Julio and their daughter Victoria, a few anecdotes about her uncles and a sister-in-law whose name he’d already forgotten. Not a huge problem: unsurprisingly, most of Héctor’s questions were about his wife and daughter… and even so, he soon enough began running out of things to say.

Coco had told him a few things about her family when she was a guest in his mansion, but not that many. After he made him repeat everything twice, gushed over all of them some more and repeated over and over how he was going to cross the bridge that year, just watch him, he would see his granddaughter, there were a few moments of peaceful silence, a huge grin almost splitting Héctor’s face in two.

It was peculiar, how quickly Ernesto had grown used to seeing skulls everywhere he looked; it seemed more natural than the act of walking, of drinking on his own, of reaching up to brush back his hair. He could almost, almost believe it was all like it had been once, two old friends having a drink, still more boys than men and without the chasm of death and betrayal he’d opened up between them - like the past twenty-six years had never happened.

He found himself wishing more than anything that the moment - the one moment worth seizing, why had it taken  him so long to see it? - would last. It did not.

“So, what about you? I know you got famous - the greatest, apparently! You really did it. I knew you would. How come your arrival isn’t on everyone’s mouth?”

Well, it was time. Ernesto kept his gaze on his glass for a moment, feeling the familiar lump where his throat should be, the voice in the back of his head crying out for him not to tell him, no one should know, no one must know. Just keep his mouth shut, pretend nothing had happened, try to pick up where they’d left off - take back what he’d thrown away.

Except that the Riveras knew and, perhaps, so did the world by now. It was only a matter of time before Héctor found out, whether from him or someone else.

It’s all done now. You moved Heaven and Earth, like you promised.

Except that he hadn’t. There was one last hurdle to move, now, even if it meant burning a bridge once again, and this time for good.

Lo siento.

Save it for the real Héctor, amigo.

“Ernesto?” Héctor called out, concern plain in his voice, and that made things worse. He hadn’t changed at all, had he?

“I didn’t tell them who I was. When I arrived,” he said. It wasn’t a reply Héctor had expected.

“Huh? Why? They’d have welcomed you like a king. You’re as famous here as you were in the Land of the Living, you know. They’d all have asked you to sign their ribs or something!”

Ernesto forced himself to swallow the tequila in one gulp, along with all of his fears. It tasted bitter as ash. He put down the glass, and forced himself to look back at Héctor.  

“Your songs,” he said. “It was your songs that made me famous. But if you have heard about my career, you already know as much.”

He did; Ernesto could see it in the bitterness that crossed his features for a moment before he shrugged. “Sí. There was a song I’d rather you-- well. You couldn’t know it was private. But I didn’t mind you singing the others, really. I mean, music is meant to be heard, no?”

You know I would have given it to you if you’d asked, right?, the hallucination’s voice echoed in the back of Ernesto’s mind. You only had to ask.

His hand clenched on the glass, one of the involuntary movements he had yet to get used to again, but he kept his voice even when he spoke again. “You know I never gave you credit.”

Héctor made a face. “I do. That was kind of a bummer, yes. People kept saying I was loco when I told them we used to play together, let alone when I tried to tell them…” he paused, and the look on his face turned accusing… but only for a moment. Then he shook his head, and smiled again - that smile he remembered so well. “I figured it must have stung, thinking about me - let alone talking about it. I didn’t mean to die on you, amigo. I didn’t get a choice.”

“No,” Ernesto said, very quietly, glancing at the empty glass in front of Héctor. “You did not.”

“So well, really, it’s all right. After all that happened, and… now you’re here. I mean, we’re both dead - would be a dumb thing to fight over,” he added, and grinned. “So it’s a closed matter, amigo. I never cared to become famous, you know that. You just pay for my drinks for the rest of our after life, and we’re good. Or, better yet… ay, of course!” he exclaimed, jumping on his feet and causing Ernesto to recoil. “You can help me out with the bridge!”

Ernesto blinked. Héctor had mentioned crossing a bridge a few times, but to be honest he wasn’t entirely sure what it was exactly about. “Bridge?”

“Right, right, you’re new - didn’t explain you too much, did they?” Héctor muttered, running a hand through his hair before he began pacing back and forth. “The marigold bridge. It appears every year, on Día de los Muertos, to let us through and visit the living. But only people with photos or portraits on their ofrenda can cross - you can tell when your picture is up because the petals glow beneath you to show the path home. They never did for me, and I was never able to cross so far. But I did try, believe me. Every year, I tried everything to see my little girl again. They wouldn’t let me because my photo was never put up on the ofrenda. Something must have happened to it - my bad, should have had more pictures taken, even if it was expensive - but now you’re here! You can help me out!”

“... Héctor, about that--”

“I mean, you’re Ernesto de la Cruz! They won’t deny you a small request…”

“Héctor--”

“... And you wouldn’t deny a small favor to an amigo,” Héctor finished with a wide smile, and put a hand on his shoulder. It was meant to be a  friendly gesture. It felt very, very heavy. “Amigos help other amigos! We’re going to cross together in a month’s time, how about that? Back in our hometown! It’s been so long, too long. I wonder if the old cantina is still where it stood - we can check that out on the way to my place! Remember how we used to…” Héctor paused when Ernesto looked away and shook his head.

I want to go home, he thought, but of course he already knew that he could not. He’d burned that bridge, struck the match and watched it go up in smoke and ashes. No amount of marigold petals could fix it. “No,” he said, and drew in a long breath. It was odd how the instinct to breathe was still there without lungs. “You won’t need me to cross the bridge.”

“Well, I do have a really good plan this year, so probably not, but it would be so much easier if you put in a good word,” Héctor said, hope plain in his voice. “You said you’d move--”

“... Heaven and Earth for you, mi amigo,” Ernesto finished, and he felt really, really tired. “I did. I moved Heaven, Earth, and everything inbetween. Just not for you. Lo siento, Héctor.”

“Wha-- Ernesto, listen. It would only take you a few words” Héctor insisted, now very close to pleading. “It would mean everything to me. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important, but my photos must have been lost and I see no other--”

“Your photo wasn’t lost.”

The grip on his shoulder suddenly went slack. “... Qué?”

With what felt like a terrible effort, Ernesto lifted his gaze from his empty glass to meet Héctor’s. He looked confused but, most of all, he looked worried. He must have known, Ernesto could guess, that perhaps his photo was neither lost nor damaged. He must have wondered, year after year, if the truth was different - if he’d simply been left off the ofrenda entirely, by the family he’d loved more than anything. More than anyone. More than him .

“They still have your picture, as far as I know. You could never cross the bridge because they never put it on any ofrenda.”

The hand on his shoulder was pulled back as though he’d suddenly caught fire, Héctor’s eyes widening as he took a step back. “What?” he muttered, hurt and surprise plain on his face. “Why… why would they keep me off the ofrenda?”

Ernesto closed his eyes, and swallowed. “Because they didn’t know it was needed.”

“But… all right, no one living knows for sure that the dead do return to visit ofrendas, but it’s tradition, I figure Imelda--”

“They didn’t know you were dead, Héctor.”

He spoke quietly, but his voice felt loud as a gunshot to his own ears, or lack thereof. Héctor’s arms fell by his sides like the limbs of a mannequin whose strings had been cut. He stared at him for several moments, mouth hanging open, as though battling to comprehend what he’d just heard.

“They didn’t-- but that can’t be! You… you were there, you saw me die, you would-- you must have--” Héctor sputtered, shaking his head, and then looked at him as though he’d just grown a second head, as though nothing of what he’d said made sense.

Looking back, Ernesto could only agree. Nothing of what he’d done made sense.

You know I would have given it to you if you’d asked, right? You only had to ask.

“Ernesto, answer to me! You told them I died! You must have! Look at me and tell me --!”

“I didn’t,” Ernesto choked out, causing him to fall silent for the second time in a minute. He kept his head low, hands gripping the edge of the table. Something in his chest cavity hurt, and each word was more difficult to force out than the next. He shut his eyes.

“No. No, it’s not true.”

“I never told them a thing. Lo siento, Héctor.”

“No. No, no, no,” Héctor was repeating like a broken disk. “That’s…  all these years--”

Ernesto drew in a deep breath. “They thought you’d left them behind,” he heard himself saying, and opened his eyes. It took all of his willpower to look up, meeting Héctor’s horror-stricken gaze. “They do know now. I told them the truth. This year, they should--”

There was a cry of dismay and anger, drowning out his last words, and Héctor suddenly grasped the front of his shirt, pulling him up. He had never done that before, wouldn’t have been able to if he’d tried, thin as he was, but anger lent him strength. The next moment Ernesto’s back hit the wall, and he had a moment to panic at the sting - no not my spine please not the spine what will happen if it breaks again - before Héctor’s grip on the collar of his shirt tightened, and he gave him a violent shake, features distorted.

“How could you!” he screamed, shaking him. “You knew I was trying to go home to them! You knew I had died! You took the songs, took credit, and let them believe I had abandoned them? Why? Because I’d had enough of your stupid musical fantasy? Was that it?”

Ernesto reached to grasp Héctor’s wrists, but didn’t try to push him away. In some absurd way, he found his fury easier to deal with than his joy upon seeing him. That, at least, he knew how to respond to. “I couldn’t let them know how you’d died.”

Whatever answer Héctor had been expecting, that clearly wasn’t it. He blinked, some anger giving way to confusion. “Wha-- really? That’s it? You thought dying of food poisoning was too embarrassing to tell my wife and child? Dios mío, you can’t be seriously telling me--”

“It wasn’t food poisoning, Héctor. It was me,” Ernesto rasped, cutting him off.

Héctor fell silent to stare at him in silent disbelief. “Qué…?”

“I killed you,” Ernesto said. Once again, telling the truth felt like pulling out a rotten tooth with no anesthesia, and with no relief to follow: only a moment of stasis, waiting for the worst.

Héctor stared at him for a few more moments, then confusion turned into sorrow. “Oh. Oh, mi hermano, no,” he exclaimed, and let go of his shirt to put a hand on his shoulder. “Good God, was that why… did you really think they would blame you? It was never your fault.”

Wait, what?

“No, you don’t understand. It was. I--”

“You’re… you’re not well. Sit down. I’ll get you some water, sí?”

“Héctor--”

“You’re confused, happens to the recently deceased, you know?” Héctor was babbling, lifting up the chair that had been knocked over when he’d dragged Ernesto off it and gesturing for him to sit. “I should have realized, I’m so sorry I lost control. You’re not thinking straight, should have guessed. And I gave you alcohol on top of it.”

Oh, Jesus Christ. “Héctor. No. I killed you.”

“I really hope this is only a temporary thing, because I’d hate to think you blamed yourself all these years, mi amigo. Look, how about you eat something? No chorizo, bet you can imagine why I no longer eat that, but I should still have some--” he babbled on, only to trail off when Ernesto stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, holding tight.

“Héctor,” he called out, very quietly. His old friend slowly turned to look at him and there it was, Ernesto could see it in his eyes - the beginning of a gnawing doubt.  “Do you remember when I called for a toast? Right before you stepped out?” he asked, drew in a deep breath when Héctor nodded. “I had rat poison on me. I slipped it in your drink.”

“No,” Héctor replied, almost matter-of-factly, but something in his voice shook. “You did not.”

“I did. I wasn’t certain it would be enough to kill you. For all I knew it may have only made you sick, but I was willing to face either outcome as long as you didn’t board that train. Not with your songbook. When you decided to leave with it, I… I couldn’t do it without your songs. You were taking all I had ever hoped and dreamed to achieve with you. I couldn't… I thought I couldn’t let it happen. I thought it was you or… or my dream.”

Héctor stared at him, transfixed, before shaking his head. “No, you can’t have done it,” he protested weakly. Ernesto looked down and let go of his shoulder, letting his arm drop.

“I was willing to do anything,” muttered. “Whatever it took.”

Héctor staggered back, shaking his head. He had to lean on the table for support. “No,” he repeated, but this time he sounded desperate - denying what he knew to be true. Ernesto would know: it was what he’d sounded like when he had tried to protest with doctors that he couldn’t be, he couldn't have been left paralyzed for good, it wasn’t possible.

“I poisoned you.”

“You’re lying. You would never. You were… you are my best friend, almost a brother, and--”

“And you were mine, and I still murdered you,” Ernesto cut him off, and sighed. It felt as though a weight had been lifted on his chest, only to be placed on his shoulders.

For several moments, Héctor said nothing: he only stared at him with wide eyes, the same way he’d look at him when they were kids and Ernesto had come up with an especially scary story - waiting for resolution so that it would be over with and he could laugh about his own fear, which would seem so foolish once his mind was back in a world where monsters didn’t lurk under the bed.

They lurked in a glass of tequila, and behind the smile of an old friend.

“Ernesto,” Héctor finally spoke, very slowly. Ernesto could almost see the gears turning in his head, the way he went through every moment of that night, every word, every gesture. “Tell me you didn’t do it. That it was just back luck. That you’re making this up,” he pleaded, and his voice broke up towards the end. “Tell me it’s some kind of sick joke and I’ll believe it.”

He would have, Ernesto was sure of it. If he denied everything there and then, he would choose to believe him. Somehow, it made it all even worse. He shook his head, ignoring the part of him that cried out for him to deny it, and shut his eyes.

“Perdóname,” was all he said.

He didn’t see Héctor lunging at him, but he heard his cry of anger and dismay, and felt the impact that sent them both tumbling on the ground, the weight on his ribcage, the blows that rained down on him. A fist cracked against his jaw, causing his skull to bounce against the floor, and his vision swam.  He reached up to shield his head with a cry as Héctor kept hitting blindly.

“HOW COULD YOU!  HOW COULD YOU! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME!”

There were more blows, and he quickly lost count; all he could focus on was keeping his head shielded and teeth clenched. Trying to fight back, or get him off himself - he could do it, he was stronger, had always been - didn’t even cross his mind.

And then it was over. With one last cry and a punch that cracked one of the wooden boards next to Ernesto’s head, Héctor tore himself away from him and fell on his knees only a few steps away, cradling his right hand to his chest. As he sat up, if shakily, Ernesto could see cracks across the finger bones that hadn’t been there before.

“You rat,” Héctor choked out, eyes shut. “I just wanted to go back home.”

“You can now,” Ernesto found himself saying, his voice unsteady. His arms, ribs and jaw hurt, but he hardly noticed.  “They… they know the truth now. The entire truth. You can cross--”

“Once a year,” Héctor cut him off, his voice hollow. “I should have had a lifetime with them.”

“Lo sien--”

“Do not finish that sentence,” he snapped, lifting his head to glare at him. There were fury and disgust to match Imelda’s, but far more hurt. “Some amigo. Get out of my sight, Ernesto. Now.”

“Héctor--”

“OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

The scream was more deafening than the final toll of the bell that had fallen on him, and it filled him with almost as much terror. Ernesto was out of the door the next instant, down the stairs and back into the road as though he had the devil at his heels - away from the man he'd killed, from the empty glasses, from the bridge he'd burned to ashes all over again. He kept running through dark streets until his legs failed him, and only then he stopped. He let himself drop on the ground against a wall, covering his face with both hands.

Nothing else I can do, he thought, and it was true; the only right thing for him to do now was leaving Héctor be, but where did it leave him? He stayed there, shaking, not knowing what to do, until he heard a whine. He tore his hands off his face to see his dogs staring up at him, eyes huge, tails wagging slowly. Zita - old Zita, the last of them to leave him behind in the Land of the Living, who'd died in her sleep by his side - stepped forward and nudged at his shin. Ernesto smiled weakly.

“Spirit guides,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, and stood slowly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Very well. Guide me, then. Where do I go from here?”

His dogs - his alebrijes - yapped and, with a wag of their tail, they were off. He followed wherever they’d lead him, leaving behind what had been his best friend, and his own name, for the last time.

From that moment on, no one would see Ernesto de la Cruz ever again.

***

“You haven’t listened to it, have you?”

“I have no desire to hear that snake’s voice again. Also, we don’t have a player.”

“Heh. True. But we could get one. Not to hear this tape, but…” Coco let her voice fade away, and there were a few moments of silence as she and her mother sat side by side on her bed. The guitar was on the bed, too, in its case, but it her mother's attention was fixed on the tape in her hands, the one with the murder confession. She slowly put it down on the small table by the bed before she spoke.

“Music,” she murmured. “He was murdered for it.”

“He was murdered because he chose us over it, and because Ernesto wanted fame and glory,” Coco replied. “We can never have papá back. But music... that we can reclaim.”

“... Lo sé,” her mother said, and gave a long sigh before she spoke again, her voice harsher. “We are never going to listen to any of his recordings. Not in this household.”

Coco nodded. It still stung a bit, to think that she’d only heard most of her father’s songs through de la Cruz - and the fact those recordings would keep existing. She was rather sure they could have them taken off the market if they pressed for it, but she was reluctant to do it. Even if through his murderer, her papá’s music had struck a chord with so many and she, more than anyone, knew how important a song can be in hard times.

“That goes without saying,” she finally said, and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder, a hand reaching to rest on her own stomach. “You know, there was a song papá always sang to me. Our secret song. I kept singing at night when I was little, and I sang it to Victoria when she was a baby. I would like to sing it openly now, to her and to the new baby.”

Her mother’s lips curled in a faint smile. “I never knew.”

“I also dance in secret. I can be sneaky. ”

“Just like your papá.”

Coco chuckled, then her gaze fell on the tape. “... What are we going to do about it?”

Her mother stiffened. “I’d love to have it broadcast on the radio,” she said, her voice tight. “To tell everyone how your father really died. To scream de la Cruz’s guilt from the rooftops.”

“But…?” Coco asked, though of course she already knew the answer. There was one reason only why her mother could possibly hold back from doing all that - their family.

“We will tell everyone it was Héctor to write those songs, once everything has been dealt with. He’s owed that much,” was the reply. “There will be some upheaval - nothing we cannot deal with. But this…” her voice faded, but Coco knew exactly what she was thinking.

Making the murder public would cause a storm, and their family would be caught right in the middle of it, their quiet lives and maybe even their business turned on its head, perhaps beyond repair. They had a taped confession, yes, but they would also need to exhume the poor remains they had just now put to rest. The public may accept someone else had written the songs once the record company admitted as much publicly, but she knew plenty of people would refuse to believe Mexico’s most beloved musician may be a murderer - no matter what proof they showed.

There would be rumors, doubts, slander. He’d been sick, his mental state deteriorating; they’d say they had manipulated him to confess something he’d never done. On her own, she knew, Imelda Rivera wouldn’t hesitate to fight all of it with her head held high, a bastion refusing to bend to the storm, but she wasn’t on her own. Her family came first, little Victoria and the child yet to come, and she wouldn’t drag them in it. Coco took her hand and squeezed.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be on your side,” she finally murmured. Her mother smiled.

“Thank you, mija,” she said, and took the tape. She stared at it for a moment before she opened a drawer, put it in, and shut it. “We know what happened. So will Victoria when she'd old enough, and the child you're carrying, and their children. We're his family. It was us de la Cruz owed the truth. Not the world.”

Coco reached to hold her, her mother held her back, and for a long time they said nothing.

***

“YOU DENSE MOTHERFUCKER” -- Ernesto at some point, probably. (Okay seriously now, only the epilogue left! I'll be traveling, these days, but it should be rather short, so I might be able to post it by next Friday. If not, I'll aim for the following Friday.)

***

[Back to Chapter 10]

[indieks]

Not So Randomly | Part 5/5 [END]

🌟 Pairing : Im Changkyun (I.M) x Reader

🌟 Genre : Fluff, Angst

🌟 Warnings : I’m not a smut writer, but let’s say suggestive… 😏

🌟 Word count : 17.4k

🌟 Synopsis : Whenever you cross the path of Im Changkyun, that guy you hate and that hates you, it seems to be the worst day of your life. But, strangely enough, it also becomes the best and most accurate of moments you’ve ever had. So, the more you randomly end up stucked with each other, the more a question can arise : is it really chance that has something against you, or is it serendipity that drives you one towards the other?

Previous Part

🌟 A/N : This is it… This is the end, this is the last part, and I myself can’t believe it. I also can’t thank you guys enough for reading until then, for trusting my writing and waiting for the next part (sorry for publishing it after so long...). You, every single one of you that has read it, are the reason I could end it proudly and with a lot of joy to share it with you. 

This is only my second work on Tumblr but my first series so I feel reaaaally emo about this now, I’m sorry, but once again T H A N K  Y O U.

Enjoy this last part as much as I have, and stan MONSTA X! #DRAMARAMA #MONSTAX1stwin #letsgetit ♥♥♥

And to finish, I wanted to thank and dedicate this part to @bang-nao​ who has been of great great support since the beginning and helped me write this fic til the end with the best words she’s told me! I hope you like the end! ♥

Disclaimer : any gifs or images used, even edited, are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!

  ***

  Love. One word that made the kids at school frown and say "errrrk" every time they're asked if they have a lover ; the teenagers and young adults' hearts flutter, bodies energetic and minds full of questions every time they feel he or she is the one before they end up crying with snacks surrounding them or taking poor decisions to digest their umpteenth breakup ; and parents think back of the times when they went through those same crises, with a smile on their faces as they watch over the very people who gave love a whole new meaning to them.

And to you, it was a mix of all that, but without being exactly the same : from the frown you gave the first time you had realized you loved Im Changkyun the asshole ; to the craziness of your heart, body and mind every time Im Changkyun the loveable had been near you ; to the tears you had shed because of his behavior as well as yours ; to the poor decision you had made just now by panicking while you were finally sure of everything ; to the smile that had disguised your lips as you had watched him on stage, and that he had taken away the second he turned his back on you.

The music was piercing your eardrums and the neon spots were blurring your vision, but you were trying your best to focus on every single human being under your eyes to find the only one you cared about right now. However, everything in the warehouse was hectic ; the party had really started in no time, bodies already bouncing against each other and yours by the way, screams of lyrics perturbing you, and darkness reducing your chances to spot him quickly. You then decided to go upstairs, where couches and tables had been displayed for momentary pauses or peaceful discussions, hoping you'd have a better view from above as you sure could recognize that fool only from the top of his head.

He couldn't have disappeared that quickly, could he...? Your hunt for Changkyun had only begun when you suddenly heard a familiar voice above the noise :

"Looking for someone?"

You turned your head to your right to discover Gyujeong, with his elbows leaning on the fence and almost touching yours, a smile on his face. You jumped in surprise before tipping back to watch if Hwimin was anywhere near him because if that was the case, you had to run away immediately. Not now. The dark-haired guy caught the fear in your eyes that were going back and forth between him and the landscape behind his frame, and he spoke up again :

"He's not here, oh my god Y/N calm down!"

"Sorry, I'm just... Not ready. I have something to do before!" you protested over the music, your attention drown back to the crowd dancing and cheering under your feet, and Gyujeong followed your stare.

"Who was the guy you were with earlier? You seemed pretty close…" he asked and you sighed.

"I don't really know right now..." you sincerely answered.

Gyujeong tilted his head before drinking a sip from his red cup, and he shot you a curious look once you turned to him, your left side against the barrier and a sly smile dressing your lips.

"And you? Shouldn't you be with someone we both know too damn well?"

He laughed and nodded in defeat, before biting his bottom lip.

"So you caught me... I'm actually looking for her too. Great view huh?" he smiled shyly, making you laugh.

"Do you want me to call her?" You asked, taking your phone from your purse but Gyujeong placed a hand on yours to stop you.

"You're okay with this? I mean... us?" He looked at you with concern in his eyes, and you used your free hand to place it on his broad shoulder.

"I totally get why you like each other, you're exactly the same" you breathed, closing your eyes in acknowledgement. "Yes, I'm okay. I bet on you since the beginning, and I can't waste all your efforts to get to her rock-like heart now that you're almost there!"

Gyujeong laughed another time and he let go of your hand, but the smile you had shared with him instantly disappeared when you caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette approaching the both of you. Not now.

"Hey Y/N!" his high pitched voice melted in your ears, while his shy smile brightened his cute face, and you felt your members froze in their place as he was waving at you.

Hwimin made his way between Gyujeong and you, and you saw his best friend wiggle his brows at you before he disappeared in no time, leaving you both in an awkward silence – well with background music at least but your lips were sealed – and without you seeing it coming, your blood started to boil into your veins and you felt hot flashes burning your cheeks as well as your neck. Hwimin faced you, leaning his side against the barrier as you did and you could see from the way he was looking at the dark liquid he was turning into his cup, that he was as flustered as you to be reunited after so long, after your last goodbye that had been... Well… Emotional.

"Can we... Like... Talk outside?" he suggested, brushing his hair with his left hand and you felt your heart stricken into your chest.

You couldn't prevent yourself from thinking back of those simple moments when you had been going to high school parties together, enjoying with your friends and drinking love shots ridiculously, because that's how he was back then. But as you recalled his Instagram pictures, you shook your head as you now were sure you couldn't spend those kinds of moments with him anymore. He had changed and so had you ; so had your feelings for him, yet when he landed his squirrel eyes on you, you felt chills going down your spine and your hands growing wet instantly, showing you you were affected. But in which kind of way...?

"Y-Yeah, sure..." you reluctantly answered, gulping hard as you threw one last look towards the crowd without seeing Changkyun this time too.

However, if you had lost sight of him the moment you were separated, Changkyun had never lost track of you. He was posted at the very end of the bar, right next to the stage where he had performed with all his heart, heart that was beating hardly after you had just sat on it with your attitude. And right now, he was observing you going down the stairs with some guy he quickly but rightfully concluded to be your ex, and it definitely triggered the time bomb he had in him. You were going to deal with it like that? So would he. Changkyun emptied up his drink instantly and, like the time at the pool party, he decided he'd suppress his feelings for a while by enjoying everything tonight that hadn't anything to do with you, or your eyes, or your face, or your lips he was dying to kiss, or your hands, or your body perfectly fitted for your damn outfit, or your...

 You hadn't expected to be that agitated by the return of your ex into your life, as you couldn't even reason yourself that it was just for one night at the moment. Why did it hurt in some way?

The closer you grew to him as you walked outside, the more every single one of the feelings you ever had for him started to tingle next to your unprepared heart, the souvenir of his small lips on yours suddenly the clearer it could be, those lips you were now able to see through the darkness and that finally moved once you found a quiet spot to talk around the warehouse :

"Long time no see." he finally said in a sweet voice, and your words fought in your head to get out at once.

You didn't know if that was because of the sparkling world Changkyun had left you in – despite your argument that had tarnished it –, but you found yourself thinking that he still was cute, even when you had summoned yourself to remain indifferent before you went to the party, even when you had been persuaded that your feelings for Changkyun were making you blind to anyone else's beauty anyway. How come your predictions about yourself could be so wrong? A few seconds went by and you still hadn't said anything, as you were growing close to the scary conclusion that even if it was just for one night, your reunion with Hwimin was going to ask from you a lot more effort than what you had planned.

Despite what he had done to you and how much he had seemed to change, you noticed that Hwimin still cared about you and had come to know you in his own way, as he didn't press you nor maintained his insisting look on your blushing face. Yet, he unexpectedly ran his hands through his pockets and didn't catch the surprise in your eyes when he took out a cigarette from them as well as a lighter, before he started to smoke, waiting for your answer.

"So now you smoke?" you finally spoke up, and Hwimin looked up to you with his brows up on his forehead.

"Oh? Oh I always have, I just didn't do it in front of you because I knew you didn't like it" he smiled awkwardly before breathing out some grey smoke in the air.

You didn't know if you had to feel disappointed that he had hidden such an important aspect of his personality from you back then, or thankful that he had been considerate of you doing so, so you only nodded, grimacing at the same time as the smoke came accidently right into your face.

"S-Sorry, I'll stop I-"

"That's fine, finish it" you cut him as he had bent down to crash it on the ground, so he straightened himself before putting the cigarette back into his mouth.

"So... How have you been doing?" he tried.

"Pretty fine, and you?"

"Same..."

Silence. You wanted to bury yourself into the ground, his eyes on you enough to kill you.

"Look Y/N I..."

"Don't tell me you're sorry again or else I'm leaving right now" you interfered, having had enough with his excuses as they had been the only damn words you had heard in your head every time you had thought about him.

He chuckled, throwing his head in the back before taking another puff on the thin cylinder of paper, tobacco and some other bad things for one's organism.

"I was going to say that I missed you, but I don't think that's any better now" he frankly replied and you got taken aback.

Gyujeong had warned you, when he had read the messages Hwimin had sent you, that his best friend was obviously trying to get you back, but you hadn't believed him at that time, or more precisely you had banished that foolish possibility from your mind as it wasn't logical in any way for you.

However, he had said it, with his eyes looking anywhere but you and his cheeks amazingly turning red from embarrassment, but even without this physical hint you would've known his state of mind just by his expression that was between the urge to laugh nervously and the shock from having been that honest without boundaries.

"You dumped me, Hwimin, remember? Don't you think it's a little bit late to regret and say this?" you asked, an ounce of sarcasm lacing your voice while you crossed your arms on your chest.

You needed to stay strong. To stick to what you had been saying to yourself ever since he broke up with you so you'd move on – well, had you really needed to do that little lecture? Or Changkyun hadn't he done everything himself?

"I know I know. But it takes a mistake for someone to realize things, am I wrong?" he exhaled, smiling to himself before locking eyes with you who had been looking at him stressing out ever since you had settled outside.

He marked a point, Changkyun could be the first one to testify, and so were you tonight after having been a coward, making you open your eyes on your feelings and what you truly wanted.

"You're right" you only added, waiting for him to continue – and somehow, to finish, soon, what he had to say.

"So yeah… I realized that I missed you, I missed..." he laughed, clearly getting shyer second by second and you could feel your heart melt before the sight. "I missed us." he shrugged. "I wasn't even interested in other girls you know, yes I had fun at my parties and stuff'-"

"I could clearly see that" you mumbled, cutting him off unwillingly and catching him off guard.

"W-What do you mean?"

"Your social networks tell a lot, Hwimin. A lot that I couldn't even recognize, and now that you also revealed to me you've always smoked even while being with me, I wonder if I ever knew you, at all. I wonder if the guy I dated, and ended up liking at some point, wasn't just some role you had showed off so that you could please me, because I know you liked me first. I wonder if the real you wasn't the one you are now, and maybe I don't know anymore."

"I'm still the same, Y/N, it's the business schools' life that I follow but I'm still me! I've always been true with you I swear!"

Hwimin took a step towards you after having thrown away his cigarette, and his arms extended quickly like a spasm before dropping to his sides, and you assisted to a wave of frustration drowning on him and his patience as he brushed his face with the palms of his hands while sighing loudly.

He suddenly looked… desperate.

"I know you don't believe in me right now. I… I fucked up really bad. But I swear I'm the same Lee Hwimin. I'm Hwim! And because I never felt that way with someone else before… Fuck, I missed you and I'm not here to apologize because I know you'll kill me, but to ask you to give me another chance."

You prevented your right hand to place itself onto your heart that was about to explode from its increasing heartbeat, or to maintain your jaw that could drop to your feet at any moment. How come you only met boys not only that regret passing by you, but that were also that fucking straightforward about their feelings? Shouldn't boys be the ones that don't express themselves and make girls run miles and miles after them only to have a semblance of demonstration coming from them at the end?

"I can't, Hwimin. I can't." you half-whispered.

It weirdly hurt you to reject him like that when he had just sincerely poured out his feelings for you, even more with that desperate and somehow needy look in his eyes, as you had known him to be discreet about them.

"Won't you ask me why?" you overbid, growing anxious at his lack of answer or reaction.

Indeed, your ex was just standing before you and it took him a few seconds before he nodded and smiled sadly, finally digesting the rejection after having been slapped by your words.

"It's the guy I saw you with earlier, isn't it?" he asked in return, digging into his pockets once again but more nervously this time, as he took another cigarette and lightened it faster than at the beginning of your discussion.

So he did see something… You felt short of breath all of a sudden, heat steaming under your eyelids and signaling you the arrival of tears that were, as usual, unwelcomed, so you looked up at the deep night sky to fight them back. Were they linked to your uneasiness? To guilt? To stress? Or to the souvenirs with Hwimin that kept confusing you and your decisions?

"Y-Yes."

He chuckled and the sound electrocuted you.

"I should be happy for you, that's right? I mean, I'm the one who messed up that relationship so I have no say in this" he almost said to himself, his eyes no longer looking at you as they were focusing on whatever was on the ground, and it killed you to see him like this.

You didn't blame him for dumping you with a poor reason anymore, and, as you had affirmed to Gyujeong, you still cared about him. So you started to feel bad for possibly making him think you had moved on that quickly from him, when you had left him with the image of you crying as the last one he could remember, image which was supposed to reflect how much you liked him back then. But deep down you knew, he had been some kind of rebound at first, and Solhee had told you she had warned him about it in your place ; still he had been willing to go out with you, and right now you felt bad about it. Really really bad.

"I… I just wanted you to know…" you stuttered, searching for the right words but shocking yourself for speaking up when in reality you had no idea what was going on in your busy head. "He's the guy from last summer. Hadn't it been for him, I wouldn't have been attracted to anyone else for a while. I really liked you, Hwimin. But… I think love him. He came back into my life, and he took back his fucking place, and I couldn't do anything about it."

Your ex finally acknowledged you as he heard the trembling in your voice, and the second his small and dark eyes landed on your confused face, you bit your bottom lip firmly so that the stupid tears wouldn't spill out. Shit, why were you so emotional about it? What about being indifferent? What about being disgusted of him and end up things once and for all without blaming yourself in the end?

"Hey hey hey, stop giving me excuses Y/N. And I see you want to cry you little emo…" Hwimin suddenly joked, and it magically lifted something from your oppressed chest. "I already told you, I have no say in this. I was close to you, Y/N, and even if it was just for a short moment, I still saw you were someone sincere. That guy is fucking lucky, he has no idea."

There he was. There he had been. The Lee Hwimin you had known. The Lee Hwimin you had fallen for, not deeply enough, but still. The Lee Hwimin who seemed to be a child, without anything mature nor serious about him, always telling jokes, pulling pranks, doing silly things, except when he had been with you and you only. There, in the school's empty hallways, in the streets or the parks with your hands intertwined, on his bed lying next to each other, he had been manly and had given you advices, reassured you, confessed a little bit more about himself ; he had let down his guard and had shown you he could be anything but the "cool and funny guy of the class". And there he was, being resolute but with a smile on his face, being understanding even if deep down you could guess he was hurt, being far from the party guy that had broken up to live freely. He hadn't changed.

"It's weird because I'm about to say sorry when to begin with you're the one who was supposed to be at fault" you giggled, caressing slowly your naked arms that were freezing cold.

"Then don't, I have nothing to forgive here. It's my loss lady!" he exclaimed, ending up his cigarette and this time, when he put his hands in his pockets, it was only to stay in a relaxed position that fitted well with the atmosphere that had become lighter.

You stared at him a few more seconds, making sure you had shut down every single voice in your head telling you something else than "you took the right decision, no regrets, you can feel at ease!" – lucky for you, they spoke up less than ten seconds, because your mind soon had welcomed back the memory of Changkyun rapping on stage, making your heart flutter and ache to see him at the same time. Your guilt towards Hwimin had just been put to an end and by him himself, leaving a vacant spot for the one you were feeling for Changkyun a few moments ago, that gladly took it back.

" Maybe we should stop talking already, if he sees you with me he'll-"

"He doesn't have a say in this" you quoted, making the boy in front of you laugh wholeheartedly this time. "But I'm not against going back into the warehouse because I'm going to die from cold!"

"You… You're okay for spending the party with me?" Hwimin shyly asked, his little mouth forming a round.

"Why not? We're okay now, and if I don't that means I can't stay with my own best friend because you're going to return to yours who's probably smooching her somewhere down there right now!"

You turned around and started to walk, feeling suddenly confident and a thousand times better. Now, all you had to do to finally have your life sorted out, was to find the ugly bastard you loved and clear things up, so you were growing impatient. Hwimin followed behind you, a smile now stretching his lips and if you couldn't hear it, he could feel nothing in his body but the boom of his heart against his ribcage.

"I'm fine with being friends, but if that's too selfish of me then I'm also fine if you don't want to" you finally confessed.

Maybe, you were letting yourself go too quickly ; maybe, you should settle for only making things up with your ex and not cross the line ; maybe, as most of people would say, it was a bad idea to keep him as a friend into your life ; however, your heart was telling you to at least try, the distance as a fatal argument to convince you it wouldn't be that hard to manage. Deep deep down though, your inner self was slowly admitting that you would actually like to meet with him and the potential couple from time to time, and that without feeling weird or uneasy towards each other.

"No, that's fine by me. I had prepared myself to be rejected and ask to be friends anyway, Gyujeong never ceases to blame me for having destroyed our super quartet" he sniggered and you turned your head to look at him and so did he, and in his eyes you could read his sincerity.

  ***

  You entered the warehouse and as you started to follow him towards the bar where he guessed your friends would be, you suddenly spotted your long-hunted target, still at the end of the bar, apparently talking with a group of friends – all smiles and laughs, how curious for someone who was in such a bad mood before.

"Excuse me, I have something to do, I'll be right back" you informed Hwimin who nodded without asking, and you suddenly split your duo to go past more and more people, until you finally reached Im Changkyun the magnificent, in all his beauty and sexiness that shook you to the core for the fourth time in the evening, but you hurriedly focused on what you had to tell him – those fucking things he hadn't let you earlier.

Of course he would be at the bar. The first and only time you had went to a party with him, you could clearly picture the image of him running away from you after the kiss to go drink and drink in Minhyuk's kitchen, and now you knew it had been to mop up his emotions ; so it should be the case tonight. That was his own way of brushing off everything – as a lot of good drinkers around you right now – but you needed to explain yourself before he'd be too drunk to understand, your impatient heart unable to think of letting the situation pending any longer. You just had to say it : I really really really like you, Changkyun – not love, you were still scared of admitting it yourself and when you had dropped the word in front of your ex, you had been about to die. It was going to be hard, with people surrounding you and the loud music forcing you to scream it with all your heart when all you wanted was some intimate moment with him. Anyway, no time for whims and requirements, you had to fix what you had done.

You grasped his shoulder as he was taking another drink in his large hands, not caring about his friends that glanced at you with curious eyes. Yet, you lost confidence when his own dropped on you and you saw they were as dark as ever, the smile he had given to the barman also falling instantly.

"What do you want?" he said in a monotone, his famous leveled-up chin defying you, and you felt some urge to kick him pulsating into your veins as you wished for him to throw away his cocky demeanor sometimes.

"To talk. You didn't let me finish and just went your way, that's not fair Changkyun" you exposed over the music, and you plainly caught the annoyed look that got him.

His friends beside him signaled him they were returning to the dancefloor, especially a girl who clung onto him and started to drag him gently while smiling weirdly at you – was that even a smile? You couldn't mirror her hypocrisy as you shot her an angry look.

"Excuse me but we're not done here, so could you be polite and wait please?" you asked through gritted teeth, and the girl finally let go of your hopefully-soon-to-be-boyfriend, whom eyes grew big.

"Hey, stop it Y/N!" he finally interfered, then he turned away from you to whisper something into her ear, and you swore you were about to burst.

He wasn't paying any attention to you nor what you had to say ; he couldn't even dodge that girl to focus on you, no ; oh God, how you hated the fuckboy he became every time he entered a party.

"Who's she? She's ruining your mood when we're not even started…" you overheard the words coming from her pink-tinted plum lips that brushed against his pierced ear.

"Look, Y/N, I just want to enjoy right now, let's talk later, huh? I don't want to do this right now" he spoke up without looking at you and it left you shocked, your heart blowing up and the heat of your body going past the temperature from the hottest fever you ever had.

How could he care less? Changkyun nodded at the bitch that smiled at you slyly and gave him a high five he received without great enthusiasm, but still had.

"Wow. Wow, okay Changkyun. Yeah, let's talk later, if you don't end hooking up with some girl to forget about me, like last time" you spat and you saw it rang a bell inside his seemingly empty head, as some light in his dim eyes got finally turned on.

"Don't start with this, I just want to party and we can talk tomorrow! Don't try to make me take the blame here, you shouldn't have-"

"Have a nice evening." you smiled in a chanting tone and you went past him and his chick that you caught laughing, making you want to slap her for being this disrespectful, but only after having killed him for humiliating you right in front of her two eyes.

Let's enjoy he said. You couldn't wrap your head around his capacity of leaving your relationship under a question mark when so much had happened in no time, nor how he could have been so passionate about it earlier and so laid-back right now. You were truly angry and hurt at the moment, yet you were willing to wait for him to step down from his pedestal from where he had just looked down on you and your feelings, because you still felt guilty for having angered and hurt him too first. Such a beautiful give and take.

 Nevertheless, your wish to ignore each other and spend a great night without thinking back of what happened wasn't going to last long, as soon a beer pong was organized outside by the student's association. To be honest, you were quite talented at this game – your friends in high school even called you Miss BPong – so you hurried yourself towards one of the two tables with your quartet as a team ready to challenge. However, you just had installed yourself and taken over the ping pong ball, when another group was called to face yours after having listed their team name near the student's association representative. And without great surprise now, your team had randomly ended up paired with Changkyun's, which included Hoseok, Jooheon, and also the clingy girl who didn't seem to be able to let go of the moron's arm. It made your heart sunk that he let her be, but your solid pride and the now sufficient amount of alcohol in your blood helped you smile at him who, on the contrary, couldn't hide how pissed off he became the second he heard you call for Hwimin in the crowd so that he'd get ready to play.

Oh, he didn't know what was about to happen to him. He didn't know how determined you were to make him pay right now. He didn't know the real reason behind the bright smile you gave both him and his chick, and you could clearly see in his sharp eyes that it confused the heck out of him. He immediately volunteered to face you, probably wishing it would destabilize you, when in reality it had been what you had wanted since you had spotted him in the opponent's team, so you chuckled as you caught him biting his bottom lip in anticipation. He looks so good, even when tipsy. You made the ball bounce a few times on the table, and when the representative gave the signal, you threw the little white object which landed perfectly in a cup. Your team and the spectators around you – curious students and smokers – screamed as you faked a reverence, then glanced at Changkyun who cracked his neck twice before emptying up the glass, all the while looking at you suspiciously.

Even when the players switched, Changkyun and you didn't lose eye-contact, making your heart pound hard into your chest and your body crave to go to him and steal him away, until a group of five girls approached him with smiles on their faces. Your eyes diverted towards them, curiosity tingling your insides, so you focused on hearing what they were about to say.

"Hey, we just wanted to tell you we were impressed by your rap earlier! You're sooooo talented" one of them engaged, and you could only shut your mouth and agree.

No way were you going to get jealous, because what they didn't know, was that beautiful rap had been written for you and you only.

"Oh… Thanks girls" the grey-haired moron answered while scratching his neck, sign of his intimidation, and you saw him look at you from the corner of his eye for less than a second.

"It sounded like it was for someone in particular, was it? I wish it had been for me…" another one chuckled in a way too girly tone for your taste, so you just rolled your eyes at her remark – and Changkyun gladly caught that.

At least, you could acknowledge her guts to flirt with him so openly.

"Yeah kind of, but everyone else can identify y'know it's the purpose of a song" he shrugged, straightening himself for you to witness how proud he felt right now, proud of being complimented but also proud of shoving a pin right into your face.

Seriously? You turned around to prevent him from noticing your upset expression, but luckily Hwimin made a goal exactly at the same time, helping you to smile and hide behind the victory's poker face. Changkyun was obviously analyzing each one of your actions and reactions, but you wouldn't give him any kind of personal satisfaction. So you only cheered with your team and when your turn came again, you were more than eager to make him drink and transform his fuckboy brain into nothing else but a puddle of alcohol. However, the boy knew the tricks to play on you, knew the right strings to pull at your heart, knew you were totally fond of him so as he had the privilege to shoot first at this round, he enjoyed it for taking his time in flustering you.

He first combed his hair in the back with his beautiful ringed fingers so that it would reveal his forehead – one bullet, bam! –  ; then, he dropped his suede jacket on his broad shoulders that thankfully were hidden under his turtleneck but it fitted his torso in every single inch possible – second bullet boy – ; to finally glance at your more than boiling face. And he smirked, yes, he used that killing smirk of his, well aware that his looks had been an excellent weapon to use – all kill.

Well done Changbitch, you silently chuckled as regardless of the success of his attitude, he still had acted like some hot girl appealing her charms to her target. You both were being so childish, you both were way too stubborn to let go and surrender first, but how amused you were feeling seeing him trying hard to get through your façade.

So, with his overall sexy and cocky appearance, also shooting love bullets at every girl around that had their eyes full of stars on him, Changkyun threw the ball and of course, chance decided he would make it so it would be funnier. You nodded in silence, ignoring his last look before he turned to hug his teammates and thank his "fans" that were literally going crazy over one successful shot. You drank slowly, taking time in evacuating the effect he just had dropped on you, hoping it would join the liquor going down your body.

Then again, the sweaty palms made their great return as well as the wobbling legs, because the tipsy you could only feel more attacked than usually by all his inconspicuous and indirect actions meant for you. You shot the ball a little carelessly this time, as the need to step aside and breathe some fresh air was urging you to end your turn. Yet, your talent hadn't let you down as you successfully made him drink too, earning an expression on his face that clearly related what you shared on your minds : "Excellent".

"Waaaah Y/N you're really a pro, always making it at first try!" Jooheon suddenly exclaimed and his bright smile warmed you up, as well as Hoseok's thumbs lifted up to your address.

Changkyun was also smiling at you, then Hwimin slammed his hands against yours and grabbed you by the neck to shake it, like a gest of approbation that coaches do with their best sports' element when they win. You giggled with him, ignoring the deadly stare at you coming from the other side, as you now were strictly happy to spend the night with Hwimin and his true self that always made you laugh. Like old times, like good times. Alcohol had dispelled the awkwardness between the both of you, and it was as if you had returned to high school's parties with your favorite friends, the only thing that had changed being the word "friendship" instead of "lovers" labeled on your relationship with Hwimin now.

Players switched, Jooheon taking the place to face your ex, and you finally reported your attention to Changkyun that had crossed his arms and was poking his cheek with his tongue, obviously having been disturbed by the sudden skinship and friendliness going on between Hwimin and you. You just had reunited and he could touch you like that? However, as you watched each other in silence for a few seconds, you feeling totally satisfied by him being jealous, Changkyun's heart felt at ease with him being your only source of care again. Until Hwimin marked a point and pulled you into a team hug.

"What's going on between the both of you? Even I myself can feel the pressure, it's so thick guys" Hoseok whispered to his dongsaeng, who had started to tap his feet against the ground before exhaling loudly.

"You see that guy over there?" he answered, pointing at Hwimin who still had an arm on both Solhee's and your shoulders. "That's her ex. I can't stay calm."

"Ahhhh I see... That's why you've been acting like a playboy for ten minutes straight now" Hoseok mocked him, receiving a nudge of Changkyun's left elbow. "What? Admit it! Don't worry it works, she was flustered every time!"

"Who was flustered by what?" Jooheon entered the conversation as he had left his place for the only girl of their team to play.

"See for yourself" Changkyun shrugged, designating you with a small nod of his head, and by chance you just had landed your eyes on him at this very moment, a perfect timing for Jooheon to catch you in a moment of pure weakness as you were biting your lip.

"I. See. Sexual tension in here. You're too young for this maknae!" Jooheon whined before punching him hard on the arm.

"Yah! Are you crazy?! It hurts!" he frowned while checking if you had witnessed that – but no you were talking to Hwimin once again amazing –, even if deep down he had been more attacked by the s word than by the hit itself.

"As much as it hurts me to see two young people turned on! You're not even dating yet!" his best friend replied back, making Hoseok burst into laughter.

"We're not turned on! We're not..." Changkyun mumbled in a less convinced tone, his glance still on you who were fanning yourself with both of your hands.

Are we?

 The game went on and on, Changkyun and you ridiculously pursuing your plans to destabilize each other as well as showing the other one you weren't affected at all – when in fact you both were dying to kiss those lips that met cups after cups. Changkyun felt his heartbeat increase every time he faced you in that fucking gorgeous bodysuit, with your lipstick starting to fade from the sour liquid brushing against it, but what triggered him the most was the kind of tension floating between the both of you. Sexual or not, bullshit Jooheon. He liked, no, he loved it, his competitive and manly side on the lookout, and the more his eyes landed on the proud and fiery woman you were, the more he wanted to push it further to the edge to witness what you would bloom into. He adored how mad at him you were and how swiftly you were taking your revenge right now, with a fierce look that had made its home in your eyes, a nonchalant demeanor that possessed your body moves, the smiles you were giving him ; everything that was supposed to frustrate him only stimulated him.

He, wasn't even mad anymore – did he even know in what state he was except that his body felt good with all the liquor he had drank by now? He didn't even care about your ex being here anymore, even if deep down it had reassured him to see you more into himself  than into Hwimin's presence. Just with your little game within a game, you were showing him you had a real interest in him only, and that's all that mattered to him. He could grasp your attention, as even when you were not facing him directly behind the table, he felt your stare on him – and his "fans" he didn't give a shit about but only acted like it so you would be even madder. Oh, how he loved to be selfish ; but moreover, how he loved to feel desired by the woman he loved, when he had feared you didn't want him the way he did at the beginning of the party.

   ***

   The last ball was shot, the last cup was emptied up, and with that, you linked your arms with your best friend that was drunker than you – she had started to hiccup as a hint – to go dance, because you hadn't truly enjoyed the music ever since you arrived, as you had only been going around the warehouse. As if the party had been located outside for you. You purposely didn't look back and left Changkyun behind you, still in the act of the indifferent but fatal girl ; still, your body and heart were screaming that your foolish and tensed game had almost killed them, even more than the alcohol which was finally manifesting itself. Your head was floating above your body, your vision saw brighter colors, you didn't feel the cold anymore, and the cheers on the dancefloor came louder into your sensitive ears. Thankfully though, you were not that drunk and still in control of your senses, except for the fact they were magnified.

So magnified that, twenty minutes later, when a hand closed itself around your naked arm, you instantly felt chills going up and down your flesh ; worse, when you discovered that the owner of this hand was Changkyun himself, your arm went numb. Like when you had been reunited just after his performance, some fireworks exploded into your stomach while your heart beat strongly but slowly, and you stopped dancing to face his silhouette under the spotlights.

"What do you want?" you imitated him, determined to resist a little longer to his charms because the reasonable side you were holding onto was reminding you of how cocky he had been back at the bar.

Changkyun smiled and looked up, not fully rolling his eyes, and you finally spotted something shining on his head.

"Where did you even get that?!" you shouted over the music, pointing at the fake crown perfectly disposed on his light hair.

"There's a lot of accessories in lodges you know! Didn't you see the girl who performed with that on the head earlier?" he asked.

"No sorry, I was too busy fighting then looking for your ugly ass during the rest of the concert" you replied and he laughed cutely this time, making you frown in incomprehension.

What was happening to him?

Suddenly, he bent down until his mouth was near your ear this time, and his low voice so close to your eardrums felt like white noise as you almost cringed at the sound.

"Let's go outside."

Without asking, you followed him – well more exactly he pulled you by the arm he hadn't let go of – and you went even further than where you had been with Hwimin. Changkyun leaded the way to another warehouse next to the party's, its big doors already opened and a lone spot lightning heaps of scrap garbage or whatever your eyes couldn't decipher through the night.

"Oh my gosh my ears are thanking me for this" the boy finally spoke up, his voice resounding in the whole building, and he freed you from his grasp to go and sit on what looked like the corpse of a destroyed car.

You stopped in front of the engine, too lazy to follow and you crossed your arms as you observed him starting to eat some snacks you didn't even want to know where he had found them. The picture looked surreal, and it felt like time had stopped to let you enter another place with Im Changkyun the prince ; you almost forgot about the party going on right next to you as you plunged yourself totally in the bubble you had been dying to find yourself in with him ever since your argument. Finally, the two of you were alone.

"Do you enjoy yourself tonight? Having a good time?" you asked sarcastically.

"Yesssss, and you?" he answered as mischievously as you, his head tilted on the side.

"It's not over yet you know, so what is it? I thought you wanted to party and talk to me only tomorrow" you shrugged as the munch sound of crisps in his mouth was almost as loud as the music back there.

"My stomach thanks me too I was so hungry..." he mumbled to himself in satisfaction. "Well, I changed my mind" he then answered louder, finally looking at you instead of his precious bag.

"And what made you do so?" you overbid, tapping your feet on the dusty ground as his gaze was somehow starting to make you nervous.

Nervous to finally talk it out, nervous to finally have him to yourself only, nervous to probably have to confess your feelings at any moment now. Changkyun chuckled and shoved another crisp into his mouth while making his right leg swing back and forth into the emptiness. Alright, it looked like he was willing to give you a hard time for a little bit longer.

"It's a secret." he said, placing a dirty finger over his full mouth. "Now tell me, what you wanted to say so bad, I'm willing to hear it."

Your heart went up your throat and your mouth went dry. What was clear in your mind was so hard to express vocally now that you had to ; with some beer in your organism, with his intense stare that could kill you, with the emotions you were put through every time he was near you.

"Okay hum... I... I'm sorry, for what I did earlier. But I felt uneasy with my ex being here. Not because I'm not sure about you, I am... Just because I wanted it to be a special and intimate moment, and... He didn't have to see this... Oh my god what am I even saying-"

"I got it." Changkyun spoke up in his deep voice, and he suddenly jumped off the car, landing right in front of you, without enough space to extend an arm between your two frames. "I've seen the guy too now, and honestly... I don't feel threatened in the end" he confessed – and lied – out loud, his eyes looking up as if he was thinking again about it before shaking his head from the left to the right in certainty.

Changkyun the cocky ass, never too far away.

"You're incredible" you scoffed in disbelief, and the boy laughed proudly before fixing his golden crown on his big head.

"Sooooo what you were telling me in the end is that you like me and only me right? You're finally accepting my confession that I worked so hard to write and rap for you tonight? Because you kinda left me in standby earlier and that perturbed and pissed me off y'know, you should know how it feels like to be stopped when you're about to kiss s-"

"Oh my god how come you are so talkative when you're drunk? Stop drinking and ranting and kiss me already!" you whined in frustration, cutting the speech he had delivered in a higher tone than usual and with some facial expressions you wished you could have taken a picture of.

Your little outburst made him freeze, his eyes going wide and his brows jumping up on his forehead, before they fell back to fit with a lustful gaze you hadn't expected to show up so soon. You suddenly regretted having lost your patience so fast and being so eager to feel him close, as the more he was looking through you without mouthing a word, the more you were starting to grow shy and unconfident.

"Don't you dare stop me this time. I won't survive it." he said in his lowest voice, giving you the chills and your weak arms previously crossed fell down to your sides, instinctively showing him you were not on the defensive side anymore.

And with that being warned, in the flash of a second, Changkyun's hands placed themselves in the crook of your burning neck and he gently pulled at it, until his thin lips pressed themselves against yours.

It was better than what you had ever tried to imagine when thinking about the very first kiss of your relationship. It was deep and full of passion, even more than last time when he had surprised you in the university's yard. Changkyun kissed you again and again, his breath coming desperately from his Egyptian nose brushing against your face. Oh yes, he was a good kisser, whatever the reason for it was ; he knew how to place his mouth on yours too damn well. Or maybe, it was because the kiss was from him that it felt perfect. In both ways, you were enchanted.

You weren't like the girl in dramas that stays petrified in her body and lets the guy kiss her, no ; you were more the type to turn into raging flames and allow your body to express itself ardently, consuming itself in the heat of the moment. So you suddenly wrapped your arms around his waist, under his jacket, surprising him without realizing it, and you grasped his black top harder than what you yourself had expected. You were seeing stars behind your closed eyelids, and you felt like you were transported in another galaxy where only you and him mattered, where he was the only thing you could see, smell, hear and touch ; yes, most of all touch, with his body under your fingers that was warm and securing, and that he pushed further towards yours to feel more and more of you.

Finally, he ran out of breath so he departed from you but without moving his hands from the spot they seemed to have been designed for, his thumbs now caressing slowly your jawline. He looked at your wet and glistening lips at first, wanting to print into his head this beautiful image and remember what they had felt like every time he would picture it.

"Was it intimate enough for you to like it this time?" he asked in a low and vibrating tone, and with your eyes still closed, you nodded slowly.

He gave you another kiss on the forehead, a long and meaningful one, hoping you'd feel how much he was head over heels for you. See, he had not even lasted more than 20 minutes without you in his sight after the beer-pong, your face the only thing he had been seeing and discouraging him from his initial plan to report everything to tomorrow. Finally, the both of you could be together. You and him had waited so long for this moment to come, turning around each other without ever reaching, and now that it had happened, you both felt the need to save this moment forever into your hearts and minds, so you stayed quiet for a minute, holding each other and feeling each other.

"Yah Y/L/N Y/N" he finally spoke up, his chin on the top of your head.

"What…" you hummed after having braced your emotions and caught your soul that had slowly escaped from your body to fly straight up to some kind of paradise.

"Are you trying to tear up my turtleneck or what?"

You leaned back to look at him in confusion, not even realizing your fists were strongly pulling at the fabric, sign of the rush of emotions striking your body.

"Hm? Oh shit I'm so sorry" you apologized quickly, suddenly letting go and lowering your head in embarrassment.

Changkyun finally unstuck his hands from their spot to grab your forearms, and he put you back into your previous position, all the while looking at you nonchalantly.

"I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if you had wanted to…" he said in a tone traducing his urge to laugh as well as his pride about this remark.

You pinched his back through the black pullover and he winced in pain, begging you to stop in a quiet voice.

"I think I like you the most when you shut your mouth" you mumbled through gritted teeth, shooting him an annoyed glare.

"I think I like you." he shrugged, and once again your heart sunk into your stomach, willing to abandon its role as it was asking too much effort tonight.

"You think" you insisted, unpleased with his choice of words.

"I'm sure. Now if you want me to stop talking…"

He closed his long eyes, signaling you he was waiting, and you chuckled before leaning to peck him shortly.

"Seriously?" he murmured, and then again he lifted his hands but this time to place them on your skull, entangling his fingers in your hair.

"Eager now, are we?"

"Do you know how bad I have wanted this?" he complained, his face coming closer to yours and a smile dressing his lips that yours were dragged to like a magnet.

"Shouldn't have snubbed me and you would have had it sooner-"

Changkyun kissed you sweetly this time, and you felt him smile under your mouth that was prickling. Again, he gave you more than one kiss, his head changing the sides it tilted, and you hugged him properly a second time, your hands almost reaching each side of his wide torso. You felt like laughing, as you were the happiest you've ever been in the past months since last summer. You felt complete, you felt accomplished, you felt confident ; everything with him in your life seemed right in its place, and your lips melting so perfectly against each other could testify how you had been made for each other.

"Let's stop being cheesy and return back there, deal?" Changkyun finally proposed, after having kissed your mouth then your nose one last time.

What he wasn't telling you, was that he had feared you'd have to stay into his arms all night if you both didn't separate right now. He had been so desperate to hold you, as the regrets of having gave you the cold shoulder, the fear of never get the chance to make you love him back again and not too long ago the burning desire to make you finally his, had tortured him and made the uncertainty even more unbearable.

"Lip…stick" you mumbled before lifting your hand to place your thumb onto his mouth, starting to brush it to mitigate its unnatural tint.

Changkyun smiled like a fool, his arms now resting on your waist, and when you were about to stop he bit your fingers quickly, a child's frown disguising his adorable face.

"Let go, and let's go kid" you ordered, rolling your eyes at the same time.

Changkyun opened his mouth wide and before freeing you from his hug, he pecked you once again, on the shoulder this time, leaving a burning sensation on the spot and you gasped in surprise. His satisfied look when he straightened himself gave you the urge to smack him but with a move of his chin, he indicated you the exit. Anyway, you too wouldn't have been able to let go of him had the hug and kisses lasted longer, so instead of kicking, you stole one last kiss from him and took a step back before turning on your heels.

Changkyun silently followed you and, once he caught up to your pace, he surprisingly rested his arm on your shoulders and held you close to him while walking.

"I thought you didn't want to be cheesy or clingy and stuff?" you teased, pinching lightly his hand hanging lazily before your collarbone.

"Shhht." he only answered, and you gave up, even lifting your hand to intertwine your fingers with his and you heard him chuckle like a fool.

"You like it that much, do you?" you looked up to him, and he gently knocked his head against yours as an initiative to make you turn away from him and his way too happy face. "I'll take that as a yes…"

   ***

   The last hours of the party went smoothly ; you barely left each other's side, friends and even drunk strangers around you calling the King and the Queen Dowager because of Changkyun's shining crown still on his head, and his arm that hardly let go of your frame. You danced together and, when your group of friends finally reunited, Hwimin included, you were surprised to witness a scene of both of them talking a little bit without being rude to each other, making you feel at ease and thankful. Except when Changkyun slipped into your ear a "Who is he to give me advice" after your ex had apparently told him that you were a great person and that he should keep you. However it made you laugh wholeheartedly, his childish and proud side definitely under the spotlight once his blood was twisted with alcohol.

Finally, it was time for you to return to the dorms by shuttles, and Changkyun kissed you goodnight on the parking lot as he had to fulfill his duty of best friend, in other words he had to take care of his hyungs that had went over their tolerance to alcohol and couldn't walk properly nor take the shuttle on their own.

"I'm sorry... See you tomorrow, yeah?" he had almost whispered, his hands brushing your naked shoulders and you had pressed him to go and help, because as funny as it was to see Hoseok rolling on the ground and making weird noises that were supposed to be laughs, it also alarmed you on the severity of the situation.

You arrived to your dorms alone that night, as Solhee went to an after-party with her as fresh as yours boyfriend and your ex, who you had hugged to say goodbye earlier. He had permitted himself to kiss you on the forehead, his small eyes shining under the moonlight even when they were hooded by his drunken state, and it had made your heart flutter in some way. Too many things had happened in only a few hours, too many settlings in your messy life, and separating happily from Hwimin this time finally closed the wound you still had from last time.

However, being on your own and tipsy wasn't serving your need to sleep well, as you couldn't stop tossing and turning in your bed, thinking of Im Changkyun and trying to rewind your memory to the special but amazing moment you had shared in the abandoned warehouse. You wanted to go back to it again ; you wanted to be with him again ; you needed to feel him close to you again. You had spent so many evenings under your sheets thinking of him, whether it was in your vacation house, in your hometown or in that campus' bed, but tonight it was different, as for the first time you weren't imagining things. Everything had been real, every single one of your wishes had come true, every second of the movies you had played in secret in your mind had been exploited and improved into an even more thrilling and beautiful scenario. And right now, you hadn't had enough with this short film, this preview to what waited for you after, and your body was aching to be in his securing arms once again.

As every girl has done once in her life, you picked up your phone and started to scroll down his social media, but something reflecting your screen's light on your left caught your attention, and when you turned your head to look up to your nightstand, your eyes fell on the manifold plastic cups Changkyun had offered you by now, and suddenly you remembered it. Sitting in a jump in your bed, you started to chase the one that had his phone number on it, in a rush of determination. And once you found it, you laughed at yourself, thinking : yes, and what now? What would he think if you tell him you already miss him like a fool? It's been less than an hour Y/N!

You sighed in defeat and you sank into your bedhead. You were totally head over heels for this guy. Not that it was a new fact to you, but now that he was yours properly, you couldn't get enough of him after having waited for so long. At least, it would be hard in the beginning. You smacked yourself and slid under your covers once again, but a few minutes later, you gave in.

Had he really left you on read???? You little awaken shit. You looked one last time at the contact photo you had picked on his Instagram, a ridiculously well taken selfie, and it only urged your decision. You jumped out of bed and stormed to your door, half-putting some sneakers and shoving on a large hoodie on the way, ready to go out and to his dorms by yourself. You had always wanted to sneak out of your dorm room within the curfew hours, and tonight was the perfect night as everybody was going to share and mix rooms after the party – supervisors knew better than tracking every one that was a stowaway as it would last until noon.

The hallway was plunged into deep darkness and silence, so you barely breathed and slowly walked towards the emergency stairs as the lifts were shut down for the night. You were crazy to hunt someone without even knowing if he had arrived to the dorms yet, nor where to search first, but you still felt in some kind of secret mission and your drunk self was amused. Did you even know his dorm room number? What was it… You approached the plain white door and, just as you were about to push down the doorknob to open it, you felt a pressure coming from the other side, the door opening right after so you jumped back in surprise. But the vision of Changkyun appearing behind it almost made you faint, as if you were seeing a ghost, and his jaw dropped before he covered his mouth with his hands, stepping into the hallway and getting close to you.

"How is this even possible" he asked without asking, but you couldn't answer as you still were in a state of shock.

Chance. Once again. The probability that you were going to open this exact door, at the same time, while looking for each other, was so small ; yet, it still had arrived and if you wanted to laugh at how amazingly your relationship had been built up till now, your facial expression was still frozen in disbelief. Until Changkyun laughed quietly before you, bending to put his hands on his knees that had gotten weak from the surprise, and when he looked up to you, you finally shook yourself out of your trance.

"You were coming for me?"

"What do you think" he replied, straightening himself. "You don't know which dorm room is mine, and you had finally texted me, I had to come and thank you right into your face for this accomplishment, you dimwit."

"Wait wait wait, are you hurt? Is this a bruise I'm seeing right now?" you half-exclaimed half-whispered, suddenly reaching for his left cheek that obviously was tinted in something you guessed to be close to deep red.

"Ah that…" he muttered, putting the hood of the sweater he had changed for on his head and turning his head so you wouldn't see it anymore.

"What happened after I left?" you suspected, crossing your arms and Changkyun smiled faintly, his hooded eyes looking by the window in your back.

"I don't know… It's Hoseok and Jooheon, they argued with other boys on the parking lot and I got dragged into it without wanting to and I used my fists everywhere I could" he rambled in a child's voice, making you roll your eyes.

"And ended beaten up, wow… I won't feel in security with my boyfriend, amazing" you sighed before biting your tongue.

What had you just called him? "My boyfriend"? How cheesy!

"W-What?" Changkyun asked, his eyes and mouth getting rounder.

Oups…

You cleared your throat and started to walk away, wanting to lock yourself up into your room for having been so ridiculous in no time. You had just settled like three hours ago, and there you were already calling him "my boyfriend" like a high schooler. Changkyun followed you and you heard him laugh.

"Shhht! You're going to wake everyone up!" you spat, more pissed at yourself than at him but making him pay anyway. "Oh my god you can't even walk straight!"

You stopped in your tracks to go back to him who was laughing hard at you – or more precisely at how cute you had been and how hard it had hit him – and you grabbed him by the sleeve, rushing to your dorm room.

"Ah ah ah  it hurts it hurts stop pulling so hard" he whined and you looked at him annoyingly over your shoulder. "They kicked my arm too so when you pull like that…" he pouted and you sighed loudly before the sight of the mix of a child and a drunkard he was now.

And of a man. But let's forget about this aspect for now.

You entered the small and quiet room, your bed undone as you had left it in a hurry so you pressed yourself to put the covers back into a neat disposition, before indicating the boy to sit down by a move of your head. You had been dying to be with him, but now that he was here in that little space that enclosed the both of you, you once again felt shy.

"I have to play the nurse for you once again, I can't believe it"

"Hey, I didn't ask you to, I'm fine" he retorted, sitting down on your bed until his back was reaching the wall and half of his legs were displayed on it.

"Do you want your left side to be enormous and blue tomorrow? No, I don't think so, you love your looks too damn much so silence kid" you commanded while you were looking for the small emergency kit you and Solhee shared.

Changkyun was staring at you, playing with his feet, and he felt his heartbeat increasing second by second now that there were only the both of you in a bedroom. Of course, a man was still a man, even more when he drinks, so he slapped himself internally when he realized he was thinking of his best friend's words back at the ping pong game, giving him hot flashes. You finally found the red box after having dug into Solhee's mess, and you knelt down next to him once you had turned on your desk's light.

"You have a nice bedroom" Changkyun stated out of nowhere, looking at the fluorescent stars on the ceiling and the tinsels hanging above the bedheads, and you thanked him quietly.

As you began to apply lotion on the big bruise, the boy enjoyed it for scanning your traits from the corner of his eye. You were so damn pretty. He had seen you with your morning face this summer, with your tanned skin, with make up on, and also tainted when you had cried ; now, he got to see you under some soft light, your face obviously having been washed, and he fell in love with this version of you as well. You were beautiful in every single way, and he quietly analyzed your serious face, your eyes focused on what you were doing. His cheek was melting under the painstaking and soft touch of your fingers that now were applying pomade, and it made his heart burst when you asked gently :

"Does it hurt?"

"No." he answered in his low voice that never failed to give you chills.

His biggest mistake was to let his pupils drift towards your lips, as it triggered something inside of him that made him crumple his sweatpants into his hands the hardest he could, or else he would have kissed you abruptly right now. Calm down, hormones ; calm down, whisky and beer. Calm d…

"Here, done." you spoke up, leaning back in your kneeling position.

Changkyun couldn't even thank you as he was struggling inside, his eyes on you now perturbing you so you covered your face with your hands, worried he was shocked to see you bare-faced.

"W-What? Why are you looking at me like that?" you panicked.

"You're fucking beautiful that's insane" he said in an inaudible voice, and as you were about to ask him to repeat, Changkyun gave in and he suddenly pushed himself with his two hands on the mattress so that he got close enough to kiss you.

You breathed out from relief and satisfaction, having missed his lips for hours now, and you quickly deepened it, passing your arms around his neck while he motioned your body to make you sit on his lap, his feet now touching the ground. You suddenly felt hot and hypersensitive to his presence, and when he put his hands under your hoodie and directly on your bare back, you gasped into the kiss but it didn't even disturb him. He didn't have any misplaced gesture, his hands only slowly stroking your skin and not going overboard, but this touch and the skin to skin contact was sufficient to make you lose your mind. Changkyun kissed you harder while your hands had gone up into his hair, a body talk to invite him to continue, and you felt him hug you closer than you already were – but never enough – when suddenly he stopped.

With his head leaned back, his famous leveled-up chin and his hooded eyes, the boy you liked looked at you and your flustered expression, making him smirk and confusing you even more. He then kissed you passionately another time but-

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god stop. We need to stop or else I'll end up do something I'll regret tomorrow." he breathed.

He had his forehead against yours and you could hear him inhale loudly, as if he had ran a marathon when he was only doing it to calm himself down.

"Not now Y/N. I don't want to rush anything."

You didn't know why, but some tears prickled at the end of your eyes, as you felt touched by his words. He was protecting you, him and your relationship and, even if you both wanted to go further right now, he was right ; it was too fresh and too complicated for you to go all in in just one night. You kissed him first this time before you dropped your head on his shoulder to hide your now more than threatening tears, and the betrayers went down your cheeks without you being able to stop. He engulfed you in his arms and he sighed, not aware of your wet face, closing his eyes as well and congratulating himself for this hard but manly decision. Looks like my drunken brain can work right too sometimes.

A few moments later, you still hadn't said anything and had wiped yourself without him noticing, and you stood up to drink in your bottle of water to wash the dirty thoughts of your dirty brain. Changkyun had already taken over your bed and covers, so when you approached your bed, you burst into laughter at the sight of him dying from a soon to be hangover, a frown clear on his face while he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"The ceiling's turning, huh?" you made fun of him.

And as an answer, you earned an ugly grimace from the childish side of him that could reappear even after the heated and intimidate moment you had shared.

"Sometimes I wonder how many of you are there in that big head of yours." you sighed before pushing him lightly with your feet so that he'll move aside, and the foolish prince executed himself, even opening the covers for you to enter easily.

You didn't feel weird or embarrassed to sleep with him so soon, as you wouldn't have closed an eye if tonight hadn't finished in that exact way. He welcomed you into a warm embrace and, as you now were starting to understand, he was the touchy and skinship-lover type, as he immediately put a leg over yours once you had settled your body next to him, your head on his broad shoulder. He hummed in satisfaction, closing his eyes but only for a short moment as he felt you lift your head up to look at him, so he leaned his own back a bit to mirror your stare.

"What?" he asked in a now raspy voice, accompanying his words by a light caress of your hair.

Oh God how you loved his touch and attentions. I think I love you. No : don't rush anything he said. Don't tell him now.

You only pecked his chin then his neck that were right before your lips as an answer, making him smile but furrow his brows at the same time, yet as he was too tired to bombard you with questions, he let you go this once and closed his eyes.

"Let's sleep."

And with those soothing words, you let yourself drift to sleep as well, rubbing your head a few times against the comfortable spot between his shoulder and the crook of his neck, and Changkyun held you closer to him with one last humming.

I know I love you. No : don't rush anything I said. No need to tell her now.

   ***

  Changkyun. One name that was followed by an annoying joke every time his hyungs called him ; that made his parents smile proudly thinking of the good and smart son they had raised in spite of his mood swings ; that was spoken about from groups to groups of students the day after the party, as he had marked the spirits with his rap skills. And to you, it was one name that made your heart flutter, your body stimulated, and your brain dysfunction as once it thought of him, it couldn't find anything else to focus on afterwards. One name that had made your worst and best days through almost a year. One name that you would probably associate to your first – and hopefully last – love. One name that you moaned the next morning, as you found yourself in an empty bed.

Still in the hangover's mist, you were struggling to open your eyes, when suddenly a wave of panic hit you when you realized he had left. Was it all a dream? Or why would he leave without warning? Had you done something?

However, your rushed heartbeat stopped when your phone buzzed next to your pillow, and you felt dumb as you read the name above the notification of a new message.

Always in the perfect timing, always linked in some way ; chance never ceased to surprise you. You dropped your phone on your nightstand, hurrying to wash your face and make yourself at least look decent, and in no time you were going down the corridor to the elevators. The bags under your eyes could clearly tell the world you had only slept for four hours, but weirdly enough, you felt recharged. Maybe, just maybe, it was because you had had a good night in someone's arms, a small night then becoming more than what you could have asked for. Happiness was bubbling in all your body and you jogged outside your dorms straight to the cafeteria. Oh shit, you weren't a morning person usually, but here you were floating ridiculously on an invisible pink cloud transporting you to him. What had he done to you…

"Wow, when I said as soon as you see this, I wasn't expecting you to come like five minutes after…" Changkyun remarked with a surprised tone as you sat in front of him.

He had chosen a table for two near glasses, giving a view of the sleeping campus outside, and the morning sun was gracing his tired traits, and you were glad to see the size of his wound had diminished through the night.

"But you were expecting me to accept it when it's cold? Huh huh boy, you're wrong. I'd run to sip its proper taste" you hissed and you grabbed the cup without paying attention to the inscription on it this time, too lost into your thoughts and still shook by the fact that the boy facing you was now… In a relationship with you, officially.

Changkyun scoffed before sipping on his own drink, his eyes not leaving your face while you were forcing yourself to look outside, or else he'd see how flustered you were the second he'd catch the sparkle in your pupils. A silence settled between the both of you, but a pleasant one, and suddenly, you felt fingers brushing against the back of your hand displayed on the table. You looked at it and naturally, Changkyun intertwined his fingers with yours, immediately giving you chills and you reluctantly leveled up your eyes to watch the expression on his face. It was a shy one, him too looking at your hands in some kind of awe, and when you finally enclosed the gap and shared his move, you caught the proud smile on his lips which killed you in an instant.

"You really like skinship, am I wrong?" you pointed and he glanced at you, an inkling of confusion passing his dark pupils, but it soon was replaced by something mischievous.

"Yes I do, with you, why? You liked it yesterday didn't you?"

"I did. I do..." you muttered under your breath and he nodded in satisfaction, his thumb starting to caress yours in the softest way possible, and you swore you should have prepared yourself psychologically to every single thing your new relationship was bound to imply and unlock, because right now you still were cringing internally and your body was always overreacting to him being near.

When were you going to handle it?

  ***

  A few weeks passed by, and you still hadn't gotten used to it. How was he supposed to be sarcastic when at the same time he was hugging you? Or how come he could be so manly when he had been such a teen before? You hadn't stepped down from your cloud, unable to reach the ground for a while, as Changkyun kept on pulling you higher and higher towards the pit of the Russian mountain that was your relationship. You hadn't become a cheesy lovey-dovey couple, yet you quickly grew closer to one another, constructing something intense between the both of you  – but with all the bends you had taken and chance paving your way, you knew it had been bound to unfold like that. You fell in love deeply and truthfully, as well as his own feelings intensified, so much he didn't even know what to do with them anymore. Every single minute you both spend together, he couldn't prevent himself from phasing before your beauty, and he had a hard time controlling his passionate kisses.

The first college break came by, relieving most of you that had went through exams weeks just before, tiring you to the bone and almost slurping your souls and sanity. As a remedy, Changkyun, Jooheon and Hoseok offered you to come down with them to Busan, which you gladly accepted. During the trip, you couldn't prevent yourself from thinking of how everything had started, and you smiled as you never would have thought it would end up that way back then. Right now, you were traveling down the country without your parents, for a vacation, and on top of that, with a left hand caressing up and down your thigh, when you only had the privilege of touching it to stop its loss of blood back then. Right now, the boy you had developed feelings for first was mirroring them, when he had stepped on them back then. Right now, his lips were always looking for yours and hardly stopped kissing you, when he had lived your first kiss as a penalty back then.

Finally, the blue sea came into sight as well as its iodized fragrance that warmed up your heart, and you opened Jooheon's car's window to the fullest so the wind was brushing your smiling face, under the stare of Changkyun that felt as flustered as you to return to his hometown with you by his side. He was willing to resume from scratch, to rewrite a new chapter of your story that was born right here, but this time you would meet his friends and not avoid them, you would visit his favorite places and not have to flee from them, you would enter his house he missed every day and meet his parents who had been warned and glad to hear their son had fell for "such a nice girl".

You went back to your vacation house on the first day's morning, without the boys, to settle your things in your bedroom you were glad to meet again, while at the end of last summer, you barely had supported to sleep more and more nights in there, counting the days lasting before your departure far away from Busan and Im Changkyun.

At noon, you happily reunited with Hyunwoo, Kihyun, Minhyuk and Hyungwon that made fun of their youngest friend for "having finally grown some" and "listened to their precious advices". There wasn't a minute spent without them making fun of him or taking your side when you teased him, leaving him annoyed but speechless as he had nothing to say about this : they were right. You visited Kihyun's bar and this time, you could comfortably sit at their table without receiving a deadly stare from Changkyun facing you ; no, you could see in his sharp eyes how happy he was to see you blend in well with his closest friends, sometimes even getting protective – or jealous, but he wouldn't admit it – when they got too friendly for his taste.

 But the most meaningful episode of your vacation, at least for you, was coming the next morning, as you were meeting with Changkyun before the market in the early hours, as you did back then. However, this time, you were on the side of the customers and, moreover, you were by his side not because he had been forced to, but because he wanted to. You spotted him coming from afar in the parking lot, tiredness obvious on his face, and he even had a face mask on, making you laugh at his overall appearance. The boys' reunion clearly led to a small night yesterday.

"No hot drink for me this morning? I'm almost disappointed…" you teased him once he was walking next to you, and he looked at you annoyingly from the corner of his eye, his arms up as he was stretching.

"Shut up, I'll buy you one later, it's eight in the morning, the shops are closed" he grunted and you laughed before passing an arm around his waist that was slightly showing because of his position lifting his shirt.

"But thank you for your mask, at least you know you might have bad breath because of alcohol" you laughed even harder as you knew well by now that when Changkyun was tired, he could get, well… Sensitive.

He stopped in his tracks and slid down his mask, before bending to try kissing you but you really refused, lifting up your hand to tap his mouth and faking a frown of disgust.

"Okay then."

The annoyance in his eyes became clear before he rolled them, and he then sped up with his hands still behind his head, making you chuckle at his childish and capricious attitude.

"C'mon I was joking! Wait for me!" you said in a higher tone as your laugh was twisting your voice, and you ran to catch up.

"This is so weird" he finally confessed through his mask, as you stopped before the glass entrance.

Then, he walked to the doors while your feet suddenly refused to move, your mind drifting into something nostalgic that froze you.

"What are you doing? C'mon!" your boyfriend then exclaimed in what was supposed to be an upset tone, but him turning around and extending his hand so you would grab it broke his credibility.

You obliged, hearing him grumble about how annoying you were, above the pounding of your heart into your chest that had busied your eardrums. Nevertheless, the second you stepped in the market, with its rich smells of fresh food and its bright colors, your heart warmed up and a smile graced your lips. You looked at Changkyun's reaction which was the same, as you could see only with his eyes that he was smiling, the fabric above his mouth not even able to hide it. You felt his grasp around your hand tightening, and then you walked slowly through the alleys. Some merchants recognized you and you felt touched, earning free food by the way, and you could see that it was getting Changkyun out of his hangover's bad mood. You spent around one hour and a half hanging in the market, sometimes recalling out loud what had happened between the both of you, those memories you could laugh about now, and your happiness reached its peak when you reunited with the granny that hugged and kissed you hard.

You exited the place with your stomach full for breakfast and a sensation of being enchanted. Suddenly, your boyfriend removed his mask and seized your face to pull you into a tender kiss. Nope, you still weren't used to it, as your legs almost gave up on supporting your upper body and butterflies seemed to never grow tired of flapping their wings into your stomach.

"Last time, you went that way and I went that way, remember?" he smiled, landing his forearms on your shoulders, and you nodded for him to continue. "But you never knew I always looked back at you."

Boom boom! Your heart exploded. He did?

"Are you openly telling me you watched my ass all summer long?" you joked to evacuate your… Whatever shitty emotions you were feeling right now ; you were just a mess in love.

Your boyfriend whined in annoyance, even if you spotted the corners of his mouth going up into a smile, and he put his hands into his pockets while sighing.

"I can't be romantic at all with you, I guess you don't like that." he thought out loud and you bit your lip in anticipation. "Alright let's go" he sighed again in defeat while squinting his eyes.

"Go where?" you asked.

"Wherever babe" he answered in english, using a "pet name" for the first time and your instinctive reaction was to punch him in the chest. "What? I'll stop being romantic and I'll be bold and skip steps now, deal with it, you asked for it!"

Deep down, you had liked it but you would never admit it in his face, as you already feared what would be coming from a fierce and bold Changkyun, so if on top of that he knew it worked… He'd kill me.

 You had been right to fear it, because you had triggered something inside of him he had told himself to preserve for a little while ; but when night came, he couldn't hold it in him anymore. You had met the boys in the afternoon, sitting on the sand, eating snacks and playing beach games, as the weather was still too chilly to dive into the sea.

But tonight though, was spent between Changkyun and you only, after having had dinner at his house with his parents who had been excited to see you again. Everything had went on smoothly, and after a change of clothes for your boyfriend and a digestive ballad in the streets with your hand in his, you chose to go to your vacation house which was empty, ready to welcome two lovebirds in search of peace and intimacy. You talked on your terrace before the sea, the beautiful sound making you realize how much you had missed this place, especially the stars you could see in a clearer way than up in the capital.

"I would never have thought we'd end up like this" Changkyun chuckled, then he bit his bottom lip while looking at you.

"Neither would I…" you replied, your voice fading within your thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I wished I could have realized my feelings sooner" he regretted, tapping slightly his fingers against the wooden barrier delimiting your terrace.

You eyed him curiously before shaking your head, not even understanding where this could come from.

"I like it that way" you shared. "I like that you were slow, because I can cherish everything even more now…"

Changkyun's arms went numb as your words melted into his ears, and he took a few steps towards you that was leaned against your bay window with your arms crossed, your eyes unable to detach themselves from the now dark sea that looked like a bath of ink and flakes.

"Cheesy. We're fucking cheesy that's almost disgusting" he spoke up once he was standing before you to gain your attention, and you jumped in surprise as you hadn't seen him coming.

All of a sudden, the boy placed his hands on your waist and pulled you close to him, a smirk on his lips and his gaze as deep as the night, giving you the chills even when the night wind hadn't.

"What?" you feigned indifference. "What do you want now?"

You.

Changkyun closed his eyes, signaling you he was waiting for something – always the same damn thing, the guy never had enough – and you gave him, wrapping your arms around his neck and you giggled when he started to rave into a passionate kiss once again.

"That's why I'm sorry. Because I wish I had this sooner." he whispered against your lips and you analyzed his face in backlight with the moon.

"And now you have it, so what's the problem?"

"I'm always needy, I always want more, that's my problem." he confessed and you coughed, the first word choking you and he laughed out loud, throwing his head backwards. "Had I had it sooner, I wouldn't be that addicted. I don't like being addicted to you, you know? Where's my man pride in this?"

You pinched the skin of his nape with your nails, successfully getting out of his embrace as he lifted his hands to scratch the painful spot. With your legs trembling, you returned into your house to serve yourself a glass of water. How can he have no fucking filter?

"I told you I'll be bold now, so stop being so flustered" his voice resounded behind you as he entered the living room and you turned around with a gasp, almost letting go of your glass as he just had answered your inner question.

"Did I say it aloud?" you asked, your eyes wide open while he approached the kitchen island to lazily lean his elbows on it.

"Said what?"

"N-nothing…" you answered in a quiet voice, coming to install yourself on the other side of the island and, once you had emptied up your drink in hopes to lessen the fire that was spreading within your whole body, you sprawled on the table with a sigh, resting your head on your left arm.

You had been right to fear it, as indeed, his straightforward attitude was killing you. Changkyun didn't move and only watched you as your head was right in his sight, and when the weight of his stare became unbearable, you finally looked up and asked :

"What is it this time?"

He was lucky humans couldn't read into each other's mind, because you would be more than out of step if you knew what he was thinking right now. He couldn't suppress his desires anymore, not with your lips that appealing, not with his body aching day by day to feel yours, not with your large but revealing T-Shirt that was falling a little bit too much on your chest right now, not with his hometown's marine air that made him feel at ease and confident, not with the moon's rays through the bay window plunging your house into an atmosphere that, this time he would admit it if asked, turned him on.

"Am I not allowed to stare at my girlfriend?" he complained in a lazy voice, not moving from his position with his chin resting into the palm of hand.

"Cheesyyyy" you counter-attacked, finally straightening yourself to stare at him at eye-level.

This one word, pressed his lust button. He had warned you… Changkyun suddenly retreated to walk around the island until he was standing up before you.

"What? What? What do you want?" you still were joking, or at least you were trying to because inside you were freaking going crazy from anticipation.

You both knew deep down that tonight was the night ; however, he was the only one truly ready and confident right now. You too had been fighting your inner desires lately, as an intense relation implies growing needs and desperate want to have more of the significant other, but it was so new to you. Changkyun was staring at you, all of his face attracting the few lightning in the room, and you could read in his eyes that he was about to "be bold".

"You."

Bingo.

At first, he kissed you with his traditional signature of his hands on your neck, but to your great surprise, they didn't last long as they soon went down your body to take refuge under your top. Only with that you knew what was coming next, and, wanting him as much as he wanted you, you copied him and placed your tingling hands on his bare back then on his waist, his fair skin so pleasant to touch. He was losing himself into the kiss once again, his tongue now searching for entrance you quickly allowed, and really quiet moans were coming from his mouth from time to time.

"Oh my god I love you so much" he breathed out of the blue, his mouth brushing yours all the while and you gasped in surprise.

He had said it. He had said it. You knew you had heard well. It had been so desperate, so true, so beautiful to hear, so full of passion that your body trembled in an instant and he should have felt it as he secured you more in his arms. You were definitely a mess, from the unwelcomed tears of joy accruing under your eyelids, to the fast beating of your heart, to the needy pressure of your hands into his back. You kissed him slowly and bit his lower lip before whispering shyly :

"I love you too. I love you."

And that's what consumed the remaining of "holding back" Changkyun had in him, as you had just made his mind explode into a firework kindling his body that started to scream at him it was craving to feel yours. So, surprisingly again, your boyfriend lowered himself, grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, before carrying you to your bedroom, all the while kissing you until you started laughing from his struggle on the last few steps that were less controlled.

He settled you on your mattress before he towered you, each one of his elbows on a side of your head, and he stared at you through his silver hair falling before his eyes, his breathing jerky. You took his face into your hands, signaling him he had your green light as you had caught the sudden worry in his eyes, searching secretly for your approbation as he knew it was your first time. He got the alert, and with speedy but efficient moves, the boy got both of you out of your clothes. He felt his heart throb when he faced your beauty in its totality, making him so happy that he kissed you again and again, his hands moving with precautions as they were scared to ruin your perfection, making you hypersensitive and overwhelmed by his lovely and caring attitude. You were discovering his manly and enterprising self, and you were so thankful and at ease, letting him direct everything going on tonight, as you were too flustered to take initiatives.

Under the ceiling you had always contemplated on your own, every single day when you had come home from work with your heart breaking and your head full of him, your bodies became one. If you already thought your lips were made to kiss each other, you got persuaded by giving him your first time and feeling his body fit so well with yours that he was more than special. Only his wet and trailed kisses on your neck, shoulders and chest could give you chills along with burning sensations ; only his lustful but enamored stare could pierce right through you to reach your secrets, wants, and needs ; only being with him could make you feel complete. Only him could have your love, all of your love.

One last hip move and it was over, both of you panting into each other's mouths that never stopped kissing. Changkyun rolled beside you, and you turned towards him, his arm welcoming your head drenched in sweat but with an expression on its face that showed the pleasure you had felt. You placed a hand on his definite and large torso, the sensation still giving you electric shocks but that you were getting recharged from, and you both fell asleep in each other's arms, him worn out after giving you his all, and you going numb from any sensation after having been a mess of emotions during the entire act.

  ***

  Right back to where everything had started ; done. Right back to where everything had been supposed to stop : about to. You were walking next to Changkyun under Busan's sun, both of your mouths smiling after what happened last night – and this morning again… – , and he was taking you to the gigantic park and its kiosk, with a little idea in mind that you hadn't guessed yet.

"Here" the boy said once you arrived, and you stopped in your tracks in a particular spot of grass, one you could remember from the trees on its left.

It was the exact one where you had last seen Changkyun back then, when he had rejected you and whatever you were feeling at that time, in front of his friends. He was standing before you but wasn't looking at you, and you swore he could capture the sun's rays every time he was below it. His fair skin was glowing as well as his silver hair that was curling from his late shower, and you stared at him in a greater awe than yesterday, because making love with him obviously made you saw him from a different angle now.

"I remember" you chuckled, playing with the ends of your hair to hide how your hands had started to shiver without a reason you could pinpoint.

"I've taken you here because I want you to erase that fucking awful memory and replace it with this one" he confessed, still looking around.

"I can't" you shrugged.

"Can you at least try to?" he complained and you laughed.

"Then can you at least look at me, stupid" you retorted but he didn't oblige.

"Give me one more minute." he said in a resolute voice, making your eyes grow wider for a few seconds.

"That's too long!"

"Shhhht." he frowned as his head was facing the sky.

You sighed in defeat and observed him as he closed his eyes and took a deep inhalation, before exhaling quietly, and oddly your heart started to beat louder in your chest. What is he doing? Changkyun finally turned to you and he took a few steps forward, then he grabbed both of your hands that were still shaking. He looked at them and he smiled, leaving you speechless, then breathless the second his eyes plunged into yours. They were plain brown, with a tint of hazel, but they were mostly sparkling with something different than what you had ever seen, far from the indifferent look he had gave you right here last time, and you were dying to ask him to talk when-

"Y/N, I love you."

His hands were burning hot in yours, but they were no match to the heat under your cheeks. And you surprised yourself when you smiled. Yesterday, when he had said it, you had liked it but it still had been in the heat of the moment, as well as your answer. Not that it had been untrue, but you had been both so desperate to make love to each other that it probably had slipped from your mouths against your will. Now, right now, he was more than aware of what he was saying, he had even prepared himself for it, and you were so happy to hear those words. So crazily happy, that's why you were smiling right now. And that's how you could return his feelings back without stuttering, but in a clear and loud voice :

"And I love you, Im Changkyun."

Chance. One word that had so different meanings for each individual, as it could bring many kinds of memories and stories. Everything could happen thanks to chance, whether it was lucky or unlucky, whether you believed it was coincidental or due to fate, whether it brought joy or pain. It could change one's life, for the better or the worse.

And for you, it had turned into serendipity. Hadn't chance been on your side, hadn't it pushed countless of your steps into each other's life, you certainly wouldn't have realized how you were meant to be. However, you didn't care about chance anymore right now. Whether you were partners for life or simply lovebirds that were going to fly only for a while in the same direction, you believed that it was for the power of love to decide, and not the one of fate.

You, could change your fate. You, could build it the way you wanted to. You, had decided to let him in in the end. Your love, would help you to stick with him. His love, had made you the one for him.

Chance, was a word you could be thankful for. But love, was the only word that could explain why you had chosen to believe in chance and turn it at your advantage, paying attention to the boy you randomly had been encountering, instead of ignoring him.

You didn't tell Changkyun that day, that he had successfully replaced your memory linked to the park by the most beautiful thing for your brain to remember. When where you were standing had been supposed to be the last place you were seeing him and the ending picture of a summer romance back then, the three words, eight letters he had pronounced just now as well as the kiss he gave you, marked only the blooming of your relationship. And your body could testify how perfect it had become : no wobbling legs, no crazy heartbeat, no sweaty palms this time.

   THE END.

[trendingnewsb]

39 of the best celebrity responses to Keaton Jones’ powerful video about bullying.

Last week, a Tennessee woman named Kimberly Jones posted a video of her son Keaton online. It went mega-viral.

The video, which has been viewed on Facebook more than 20 million times since posting, shows Keaton in tears over being bullied at school. There’s a sense of despair and helplessness in his voice that no child should have to feel, but too many have.

“Just out of curiosity, why do they bully?” a distraught Keaton asks his mom. “What’s the point of it? Why do they find joy in taking innocent people and finding a way to be mean to them?”

This is Keaton Jones, he lives in Knoxville and he has a little something to say about bullying.http://pic.twitter.com/coyQxFp33V

— Everything TN (@Everything_TN) December 9, 2017

The video clearly resonated with people — some who have been bullied, some who have been the bully — and within hours, words of support began to roll in from around the world, including some notes from some high profile people.

Hollywood has Keaton’s back.

Avengers Chris Evans and Mark Ruffalo came up big for the little guy.

Stay strong, Keaton. Don’t let them make you turn cold. I promise it gets better. While those punks at your school are deciding what kind of people they want to be in this world, how would you and your mom like to come to the Avengers premiere in LA next year? https://t.co/s1QwCQ3toi

— Chris Evans (@ChrisEvans) December 10, 2017

Little buddy, I was bullied when I was a kid. You are right #ItGetsBetter! You are my own personal super hero. Protect Yo Heart. You got a pal in the Hulk. https://t.co/fRTAENcmV4

— Mark Ruffalo (@MarkRuffalo) December 10, 2017

As did Eleven from “Stranger Things,” offering her friendship.

Keaton, this is so accurate. Why do people do this? I think your sooo cool Keaton! I wanna be your friend ( but srsly) ur freakin awesome ❤️ https://t.co/LD7Q762bL9

— Millie Bobby Brown (@milliebbrown) December 9, 2017

The delightful Tom Cavanagh of “The Flash” voiced his support  for Jones and against bullies everywhere.

Hey Keaton We here on “The Flash” are on your side – and against bullies everywhere.⚡️ #TheFlash @CW_TheFlash #StandWithKeaton https://t.co/svn8FTZmaT

— Tom Cavanagh (@CavanaghTom) December 11, 2017

Same with Beth Behrs of “Two Broke Girls.”

Keaton Jones you are amazing. So brave and strong and a beautiful human! Sending love from California! https://t.co/AALuA27r0Z

— Beth Behrs (@BethBehrs) December 10, 2017

He got some love from members of “The Walking Dead” cast.

Hey #KeatonJones Just saw your video about the tough time you’re going through. Not sure if you’re a Walking Dead fan but if it happens that you are then please be in touch as I would love to see you and your family @WalkrStalkrCon show in Nashville next year. On me. X

— Tom Payne (@justanactor) December 10, 2017

My dude. Lotta folks got your back. Me included. I’ll come down and have a chat with anybody getting on your nerves. You’re awesome my man. Be strong. Always. You will win because you are the better man. Believe that. Xojd

— Jeffrey Dean Morgan (@JDMorgan) December 10, 2017

Even Gaston and LeFou (a couple of fiction’s most famous bullies) weren’t having it.

I was bullied my whole childhood. Bullying makes me sick. Keaton, it will get better. I promise. These bullies will be a story you will tell one day when you are big and strong and mightier than all of them. https://t.co/8yEqalWfHd

— Luke Evans (@TheRealLukevans) December 10, 2017

This is my message for Keaton. Love you buddy http://pic.twitter.com/pdYK5E7JRk

— Josh Gad (@joshgad) December 10, 2017

Broadway star Ben Platt offered a few words of support.

Keaton- your vulnerability, honesty and emotional intelligence already show how much more powerful, valuable, unique and human you are than any of the bullies you talked about. I have no doubt it will get better and we will all do our part to make sure it does. We love you. https://t.co/JN9hCU49pY

— Ben Platt (@BenSPLATT) December 10, 2017

And so did voice actors Susan Eisenberg and Kevin Conroy, who provided the voices for Wonder Woman and Batman, respectively, on the animated “Justice League” TV show.

Stay strong, Keaton… You are not alone!! #KeatonJones #StopBullying http://pic.twitter.com/ASTUxPlgD4

— Susan Eisenberg (@susaneisenberg1) December 10, 2017

Keaton you are not alone. Please believe that it gets better in time. Bullies are really very weak and not worthy of your tears. I was bullied and grew up to play Batman, how cool is that?! https://t.co/wVWj7PkqLe

— Kevin Conroy (@RealKevinConroy) December 10, 2017

“Coco” director Lee Unkrich and “Ghostbusters” mastermind Paul Feig stepped up.

.@Lakyn_jones Hi! I directed Coco and Toy Story 3. If Keaton ever wants to visit Pixar, he has an open invitation! http://pic.twitter.com/Xv43RONyDr

— Lee Unkrich (@leeunkrich) December 11, 2017

Keaton, you are an amazing kid, a beautiful unique person. You are one thousand times better than any bully. You are right that it will get better one day. You will thrive. Keep learning, stay positive, laugh at how small-minded they are & keep being yourself. @STOMPOutBullyng https://t.co/1rjbarEYDO

— Paul Feig (@paulfeig) December 11, 2017

Some of the biggest stars in professional sports showed up, as well.

LeBron James called bullies “straight up wack, corny, cowards, chumps.”

Damn right! Bullies are straight up wack, corny, cowards, chumps, etc, etc! Keaton keep your head up buddy and push forward! You’re the best https://t.co/pqDgay77l9

— LeBron James (@KingJames) December 11, 2017

Cubs slugger Anthony Rizzo and Pirates outfielder Andrew McCutchen both offered words of kindness and comfort.

Keaton,U are not ugly, U are amazing. U r my hero for sharing ur story & continuing the conversation about the harm of bullying.Stay Strong! https://t.co/HaO2NqP4SP

— Anthony Rizzo (@ARizzo44) December 11, 2017

This breaks my heart. I stand with you Keaton. You are 1 million times stronger than those bullies. https://t.co/XmGwVYLUjF

— andrew mccutchen (@TheCUTCH22) December 10, 2017

Former Green Bay Packers cornerback Bernard Blake urged Jones to “never be ashamed of who you are.” Former NFL star Antonio Cromartie stepped in to say that bullies are often just insecure about themselves, asking him to be strong.

Keaton I, along with my @CSUFootball and @packers brothers wanted you to know that we stand against bullying. @Lakyn_Jones #StandWithKeaton http://pic.twitter.com/qReeMlDp71

— Bernard Blake (@BamBam_Blake23) December 10, 2017

Keaton you are a handsome young man who is made in the image God. The kids that bully you are very insecure about themselves. And it’s a shame that the parents of those kids won’t be accountable for their kids actions. Keaton Jones I’m here for you buddy. Be Strong young man

— ANTONIO CROMARTIE (@CRO31) December 10, 2017

Former NFL wide receiver Donté Stallworth urged caution for people suggesting that the bullies be confronted with hostility, asking people who really want to make a difference to try to do it through lessons of love.

We all know kids can be little shits at times—especially when it’s a group of them. We have to teach them to be better people as well through love and leading by example. They are kids, they can change their behavior through love.

— Donté Stallworth (@DonteStallworth) December 9, 2017

“Bullying is bullshit,” summed up World Cup champion Ali Krieger. “We need to start coming together, supporting each other and most importantly, standing up for beautiful kids in this world like Keaton.”

This brings tears to my eyes..bullying is bullshit! We need to start coming together, supporting each other and most importantly, standing up for beautiful kids in this world like Keaton. https://t.co/PxGHusq0Dp

— Ali Krieger (@alikrieger) December 11, 2017

Similarly, the music world had words of encouragement and support for Jones.

Demi Lovato predicted that Jones would come out of this experience much stronger than he entered it. Enrique Iglesias called the video “heartbreaking.”

I #StandwithKeaton. Keaton baby, just know you’re not alone. There are so many people who come out of bullying so much stronger and you will be one of them!! God bless you sweetheart. https://t.co/LdCAy2lDHu

— Demi Lovato (@ddlovato) December 11, 2017

Heartbreaking to see this. Keaton you’re strong to say these things and care so much for others. #TeamKeaton https://t.co/hgp0ehnn8Y

— Enrique Iglesias (@enriqueiglesias) December 10, 2017

“This extremely raw and real moment has brought hope and truth to so many people,” wrote Kevin Jonas. Nickelback called Jones “a brave young man,” asking if there was anything the band could do for them.

Keaton jones you are a hero. This extremely raw and real moment has brought hope and truth to so many people. Be you and be forever fearless. Never give up. You are loved!

— kevin jonas (@kevinjonas) December 10, 2017

“Courage is fire, and bullying is smoke.” Stay strong Keaton, you’re a very brave young man and a lot of great folks have your back. @Lakyn_Jones if there is anything we can do for Keaton, please let us know. #StandWithKeaton #StopBullying

— Nickelback (@Nickelback) December 11, 2017

Justin Bieber and Snoop Dogg posted words of support on Instagram. “The fact that he still has the sympathy and compassion for other people when he’s going through it himself is a testament to who he is,” said Bieber.

A post shared by Justin Bieber (@justinbieber) on Dec 10, 2017 at 7:20pm PST

Say lil Man U gotta friend in me for life hit me on dm so we can chop it up love is the only way to beat hate 👊🏾☝🏾

A post shared by snoopdogg (@snoopdogg) on Dec 10, 2017 at 7:50am PST

Anti-bullying activists, models, and YouTube sensations all got in on the act as well.

Monica Lewinsky offered a few kind words, saying that she’s sorry Jones is being treated this way, saying that other kids “would be lucky to be friends with [Jones].”

keaton, i’m so sorry you’re being treated this way. you don’t deserve one ounce of this pain. they would be 💫lucky💫 to be friends with you. it’ll get better. #KeatonJones #KeatonJonesIsAwesome https://t.co/IZoJQ60eY2

— Monica Lewinsky (@MonicaLewinsky) December 10, 2017

Model Mia Kang said Jones is her “absolute hero,” offering to fly out and visit him at school for lunch.

Keaton Jones you are an absolute hero. Anyone know how I can get in touch with this kid? I’ll fly out n have lunch with him at school any day. https://t.co/FmTqdvh8hK

— Mia Kang (@MissMiaKang) December 10, 2017

Logan Paul offered to chat with Jones on FaceTime and send some gear his way.

Hey @Lakyn_Jones I messaged your mother yesterday about Keaton… send me a DM, let’s get me on a FaceTime with Keaton and get him some Maverick gear 🤗

— Logan Paul (@LoganPaul) December 11, 2017

Politicians across the political spectrum offered words of kindness and courage.

Senator Bob Corker (R-Tennessee) thanked the young man for his courage, and Representative Joe Kennedy III (D-Massachusetts) asked others to look to Jones as a positive example.

Keaton, I know Tennesseans and people across our country join me in saying thank you for your courage. Bullying isn’t acceptable, especially in our schools. We’re all with you! #StandWithKeaton

— Senator Bob Corker (@SenBobCorker) December 11, 2017

We can all learn from Keaton Jones. #StandWithKeaton #StopBullying https://t.co/VkiN5cMWCO

— Rep. Joe Kennedy III (@RepJoeKennedy) December 11, 2017

Responding to an offer from UFC head Dana White to visit the organization’s headquarters, Donald Trump Jr. offered the Jones family a place to stay. Jane O’Meara Sanders of the Sanders Institute urged action over platitudes, calling on the country to “stand up to bullies — in our schools and communities, on social media and in politics and the White House.”

This boy is incredibly brave and the video really got to me. @danawhite, If he takes you up on your offer to see UFC Headquarters, I would be honored to host him and his family at our place if they need somewhere to stay. https://t.co/EWx05o0yI0

— Donald Trump Jr. (@DonaldJTrumpJr) December 11, 2017

💔 It will only “get better someday” if we ALL stand up to bullies – in our schools & communities, on social media & in politics & the White House. Keaton & every other child, teen & adult deserves to be defended against aggression. Please speak up. 💔 https://t.co/JCMPsaBjMd

— Jane O’Meara Sanders (@janeosanders) December 10, 2017

Media personalities joined the chorus with offers of support and workplace tours.

Jemele Hill and Sean Hannity offered Jones and his family tours of ESPN and Fox News, respectively. NBC’s Stephanie Ruhle pointed to Jones as a motivation for a more honest, brave, and kind world.

Hey Keaton, unfortunately you aren’t alone. A lot of kids are bullied, but they will be so uplifted by your courage. You’re a hero, young man. You are treasured and valued. Let me know if you’d ever like to visit ESPN. You can be my special guest. https://t.co/N8mkUTYnEy

— Jemele Hill (@jemelehill) December 11, 2017

If someone can get to me the name of the school, the principal, school board members i will gladly make the calls myself and fix this. Also if anyone knows Keaton and his parents, i will gladly fly them to NYC to be my guest & visit Fox News. https://t.co/uFyp2r2Yn7

— Sean Hannity (@seanhannity) December 10, 2017

At a time when hate wants to reign supreme, let #KeatonJones be our #mondaymotivation – be honest, be brave & be kind. Have a great day at school Keaton! #yougotthis

— Stephanie Ruhle (@SRuhle) December 11, 2017

HLN’s S.E. Cupp shared a story about being bullied as a child, saying, “It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.” Sunny Hostin, from “The View,” ended with a reminder that “being different makes you special.”

Keaton buddy, I was bullied just like you. It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. We love you, little man. Your squad’s BETTER than theirs! 👍🏻💪🏻😘 https://t.co/Z4U0soTCcT

— S.E. Cupp (@secupp) December 10, 2017

The bullies are the problem Keaton. Not you. Always remember being different makes you special. @Everything_TN https://t.co/K9VBbrYSQx

— Sunny Hostin (@sunny) December 10, 2017

It’s wonderful to see so many people, from so many backgrounds, come together in support of this one boy.

It’s worth remembering, however, that he’s not the only child in the world being bullied.

According to StopBullying.gov, 28% of U.S. students in grades 6 through12 have experienced bullying. 30% of students have admitted to being a bully to others. School bullying creates a hostile environment not conducive to learning and puts students’ physical, emotional, and mental health at risk.

If Keaton Jones’ story inspired you to take action, check out the StopBullying prevention toolkits for students, parents, teachers, and community members.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2AdMv6B

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2zUwbqq via Viral News HQ

[trendingnewsb]

39 of the best celebrity responses to Keaton Jones’ powerful video about bullying.

Last week, a Tennessee woman named Kimberly Jones posted a video of her son Keaton online. It went mega-viral.

The video, which has been viewed on Facebook more than 20 million times since posting, shows Keaton in tears over being bullied at school. There’s a sense of despair and helplessness in his voice that no child should have to feel, but too many have.

“Just out of curiosity, why do they bully?” a distraught Keaton asks his mom. “What’s the point of it? Why do they find joy in taking innocent people and finding a way to be mean to them?”

This is Keaton Jones, he lives in Knoxville and he has a little something to say about bullying.http://pic.twitter.com/coyQxFp33V

— Everything TN (@Everything_TN) December 9, 2017

The video clearly resonated with people — some who have been bullied, some who have been the bully — and within hours, words of support began to roll in from around the world, including some notes from some high profile people.

Hollywood has Keaton’s back.

Avengers Chris Evans and Mark Ruffalo came up big for the little guy.

Stay strong, Keaton. Don’t let them make you turn cold. I promise it gets better. While those punks at your school are deciding what kind of people they want to be in this world, how would you and your mom like to come to the Avengers premiere in LA next year? https://t.co/s1QwCQ3toi

— Chris Evans (@ChrisEvans) December 10, 2017

Little buddy, I was bullied when I was a kid. You are right #ItGetsBetter! You are my own personal super hero. Protect Yo Heart. You got a pal in the Hulk. https://t.co/fRTAENcmV4

— Mark Ruffalo (@MarkRuffalo) December 10, 2017

As did Eleven from “Stranger Things,” offering her friendship.

Keaton, this is so accurate. Why do people do this? I think your sooo cool Keaton! I wanna be your friend ( but srsly) ur freakin awesome ❤️ https://t.co/LD7Q762bL9

— Millie Bobby Brown (@milliebbrown) December 9, 2017

The delightful Tom Cavanagh of “The Flash” voiced his support  for Jones and against bullies everywhere.

Hey Keaton We here on “The Flash” are on your side – and against bullies everywhere.⚡️ #TheFlash @CW_TheFlash #StandWithKeaton https://t.co/svn8FTZmaT

— Tom Cavanagh (@CavanaghTom) December 11, 2017

Same with Beth Behrs of “Two Broke Girls.”

Keaton Jones you are amazing. So brave and strong and a beautiful human! Sending love from California! https://t.co/AALuA27r0Z

— Beth Behrs (@BethBehrs) December 10, 2017

He got some love from members of “The Walking Dead” cast.

Hey #KeatonJones Just saw your video about the tough time you’re going through. Not sure if you’re a Walking Dead fan but if it happens that you are then please be in touch as I would love to see you and your family @WalkrStalkrCon show in Nashville next year. On me. X

— Tom Payne (@justanactor) December 10, 2017

My dude. Lotta folks got your back. Me included. I’ll come down and have a chat with anybody getting on your nerves. You’re awesome my man. Be strong. Always. You will win because you are the better man. Believe that. Xojd

— Jeffrey Dean Morgan (@JDMorgan) December 10, 2017

Even Gaston and LeFou (a couple of fiction’s most famous bullies) weren’t having it.

I was bullied my whole childhood. Bullying makes me sick. Keaton, it will get better. I promise. These bullies will be a story you will tell one day when you are big and strong and mightier than all of them. https://t.co/8yEqalWfHd

— Luke Evans (@TheRealLukevans) December 10, 2017

This is my message for Keaton. Love you buddy http://pic.twitter.com/pdYK5E7JRk

— Josh Gad (@joshgad) December 10, 2017

Broadway star Ben Platt offered a few words of support.

Keaton- your vulnerability, honesty and emotional intelligence already show how much more powerful, valuable, unique and human you are than any of the bullies you talked about. I have no doubt it will get better and we will all do our part to make sure it does. We love you. https://t.co/JN9hCU49pY

— Ben Platt (@BenSPLATT) December 10, 2017

And so did voice actors Susan Eisenberg and Kevin Conroy, who provided the voices for Wonder Woman and Batman, respectively, on the animated “Justice League” TV show.

Stay strong, Keaton… You are not alone!! #KeatonJones #StopBullying http://pic.twitter.com/ASTUxPlgD4

— Susan Eisenberg (@susaneisenberg1) December 10, 2017

Keaton you are not alone. Please believe that it gets better in time. Bullies are really very weak and not worthy of your tears. I was bullied and grew up to play Batman, how cool is that?! https://t.co/wVWj7PkqLe

— Kevin Conroy (@RealKevinConroy) December 10, 2017

“Coco” director Lee Unkrich and “Ghostbusters” mastermind Paul Feig stepped up.

.@Lakyn_jones Hi! I directed Coco and Toy Story 3. If Keaton ever wants to visit Pixar, he has an open invitation! http://pic.twitter.com/Xv43RONyDr

— Lee Unkrich (@leeunkrich) December 11, 2017

Keaton, you are an amazing kid, a beautiful unique person. You are one thousand times better than any bully. You are right that it will get better one day. You will thrive. Keep learning, stay positive, laugh at how small-minded they are & keep being yourself. @STOMPOutBullyng https://t.co/1rjbarEYDO

— Paul Feig (@paulfeig) December 11, 2017

Some of the biggest stars in professional sports showed up, as well.

LeBron James called bullies “straight up wack, corny, cowards, chumps.”

Damn right! Bullies are straight up wack, corny, cowards, chumps, etc, etc! Keaton keep your head up buddy and push forward! You’re the best https://t.co/pqDgay77l9

— LeBron James (@KingJames) December 11, 2017

Cubs slugger Anthony Rizzo and Pirates outfielder Andrew McCutchen both offered words of kindness and comfort.

Keaton,U are not ugly, U are amazing. U r my hero for sharing ur story & continuing the conversation about the harm of bullying.Stay Strong! https://t.co/HaO2NqP4SP

— Anthony Rizzo (@ARizzo44) December 11, 2017

This breaks my heart. I stand with you Keaton. You are 1 million times stronger than those bullies. https://t.co/XmGwVYLUjF

— andrew mccutchen (@TheCUTCH22) December 10, 2017

Former Green Bay Packers cornerback Bernard Blake urged Jones to “never be ashamed of who you are.” Former NFL star Antonio Cromartie stepped in to say that bullies are often just insecure about themselves, asking him to be strong.

Keaton I, along with my @CSUFootball and @packers brothers wanted you to know that we stand against bullying. @Lakyn_Jones #StandWithKeaton http://pic.twitter.com/qReeMlDp71

— Bernard Blake (@BamBam_Blake23) December 10, 2017

Keaton you are a handsome young man who is made in the image God. The kids that bully you are very insecure about themselves. And it’s a shame that the parents of those kids won’t be accountable for their kids actions. Keaton Jones I’m here for you buddy. Be Strong young man

— ANTONIO CROMARTIE (@CRO31) December 10, 2017

Former NFL wide receiver Donté Stallworth urged caution for people suggesting that the bullies be confronted with hostility, asking people who really want to make a difference to try to do it through lessons of love.

We all know kids can be little shits at times—especially when it’s a group of them. We have to teach them to be better people as well through love and leading by example. They are kids, they can change their behavior through love.

— Donté Stallworth (@DonteStallworth) December 9, 2017

“Bullying is bullshit,” summed up World Cup champion Ali Krieger. “We need to start coming together, supporting each other and most importantly, standing up for beautiful kids in this world like Keaton.”

This brings tears to my eyes..bullying is bullshit! We need to start coming together, supporting each other and most importantly, standing up for beautiful kids in this world like Keaton. https://t.co/PxGHusq0Dp

— Ali Krieger (@alikrieger) December 11, 2017

Similarly, the music world had words of encouragement and support for Jones.

Demi Lovato predicted that Jones would come out of this experience much stronger than he entered it. Enrique Iglesias called the video “heartbreaking.”

I #StandwithKeaton. Keaton baby, just know you’re not alone. There are so many people who come out of bullying so much stronger and you will be one of them!! God bless you sweetheart. https://t.co/LdCAy2lDHu

— Demi Lovato (@ddlovato) December 11, 2017

Heartbreaking to see this. Keaton you’re strong to say these things and care so much for others. #TeamKeaton https://t.co/hgp0ehnn8Y

— Enrique Iglesias (@enriqueiglesias) December 10, 2017

“This extremely raw and real moment has brought hope and truth to so many people,” wrote Kevin Jonas. Nickelback called Jones “a brave young man,” asking if there was anything the band could do for them.

Keaton jones you are a hero. This extremely raw and real moment has brought hope and truth to so many people. Be you and be forever fearless. Never give up. You are loved!

— kevin jonas (@kevinjonas) December 10, 2017

“Courage is fire, and bullying is smoke.” Stay strong Keaton, you’re a very brave young man and a lot of great folks have your back. @Lakyn_Jones if there is anything we can do for Keaton, please let us know. #StandWithKeaton #StopBullying

— Nickelback (@Nickelback) December 11, 2017

Justin Bieber and Snoop Dogg posted words of support on Instagram. “The fact that he still has the sympathy and compassion for other people when he’s going through it himself is a testament to who he is,” said Bieber.

A post shared by Justin Bieber (@justinbieber) on Dec 10, 2017 at 7:20pm PST

Say lil Man U gotta friend in me for life hit me on dm so we can chop it up love is the only way to beat hate 👊🏾☝🏾

A post shared by snoopdogg (@snoopdogg) on Dec 10, 2017 at 7:50am PST

Anti-bullying activists, models, and YouTube sensations all got in on the act as well.

Monica Lewinsky offered a few kind words, saying that she’s sorry Jones is being treated this way, saying that other kids “would be lucky to be friends with [Jones].”

keaton, i’m so sorry you’re being treated this way. you don’t deserve one ounce of this pain. they would be 💫lucky💫 to be friends with you. it’ll get better. #KeatonJones #KeatonJonesIsAwesome https://t.co/IZoJQ60eY2

— Monica Lewinsky (@MonicaLewinsky) December 10, 2017

Model Mia Kang said Jones is her “absolute hero,” offering to fly out and visit him at school for lunch.

Keaton Jones you are an absolute hero. Anyone know how I can get in touch with this kid? I’ll fly out n have lunch with him at school any day. https://t.co/FmTqdvh8hK

— Mia Kang (@MissMiaKang) December 10, 2017

Logan Paul offered to chat with Jones on FaceTime and send some gear his way.

Hey @Lakyn_Jones I messaged your mother yesterday about Keaton… send me a DM, let’s get me on a FaceTime with Keaton and get him some Maverick gear 🤗

— Logan Paul (@LoganPaul) December 11, 2017

Politicians across the political spectrum offered words of kindness and courage.

Senator Bob Corker (R-Tennessee) thanked the young man for his courage, and Representative Joe Kennedy III (D-Massachusetts) asked others to look to Jones as a positive example.

Keaton, I know Tennesseans and people across our country join me in saying thank you for your courage. Bullying isn’t acceptable, especially in our schools. We’re all with you! #StandWithKeaton

— Senator Bob Corker (@SenBobCorker) December 11, 2017

We can all learn from Keaton Jones. #StandWithKeaton #StopBullying https://t.co/VkiN5cMWCO

— Rep. Joe Kennedy III (@RepJoeKennedy) December 11, 2017

Responding to an offer from UFC head Dana White to visit the organization’s headquarters, Donald Trump Jr. offered the Jones family a place to stay. Jane O’Meara Sanders of the Sanders Institute urged action over platitudes, calling on the country to “stand up to bullies — in our schools and communities, on social media and in politics and the White House.”

This boy is incredibly brave and the video really got to me. @danawhite, If he takes you up on your offer to see UFC Headquarters, I would be honored to host him and his family at our place if they need somewhere to stay. https://t.co/EWx05o0yI0

— Donald Trump Jr. (@DonaldJTrumpJr) December 11, 2017

💔 It will only “get better someday” if we ALL stand up to bullies – in our schools & communities, on social media & in politics & the White House. Keaton & every other child, teen & adult deserves to be defended against aggression. Please speak up. 💔 https://t.co/JCMPsaBjMd

— Jane O’Meara Sanders (@janeosanders) December 10, 2017

Media personalities joined the chorus with offers of support and workplace tours.

Jemele Hill and Sean Hannity offered Jones and his family tours of ESPN and Fox News, respectively. NBC’s Stephanie Ruhle pointed to Jones as a motivation for a more honest, brave, and kind world.

Hey Keaton, unfortunately you aren’t alone. A lot of kids are bullied, but they will be so uplifted by your courage. You’re a hero, young man. You are treasured and valued. Let me know if you’d ever like to visit ESPN. You can be my special guest. https://t.co/N8mkUTYnEy

— Jemele Hill (@jemelehill) December 11, 2017

If someone can get to me the name of the school, the principal, school board members i will gladly make the calls myself and fix this. Also if anyone knows Keaton and his parents, i will gladly fly them to NYC to be my guest & visit Fox News. https://t.co/uFyp2r2Yn7

— Sean Hannity (@seanhannity) December 10, 2017

At a time when hate wants to reign supreme, let #KeatonJones be our #mondaymotivation – be honest, be brave & be kind. Have a great day at school Keaton! #yougotthis

— Stephanie Ruhle (@SRuhle) December 11, 2017

HLN’s S.E. Cupp shared a story about being bullied as a child, saying, “It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with them.” Sunny Hostin, from “The View,” ended with a reminder that “being different makes you special.”

Keaton buddy, I was bullied just like you. It’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. We love you, little man. Your squad’s BETTER than theirs! 👍🏻💪🏻😘 https://t.co/Z4U0soTCcT

— S.E. Cupp (@secupp) December 10, 2017

The bullies are the problem Keaton. Not you. Always remember being different makes you special. @Everything_TN https://t.co/K9VBbrYSQx

— Sunny Hostin (@sunny) December 10, 2017

It’s wonderful to see so many people, from so many backgrounds, come together in support of this one boy.

It’s worth remembering, however, that he’s not the only child in the world being bullied.

According to StopBullying.gov, 28% of U.S. students in grades 6 through12 have experienced bullying. 30% of students have admitted to being a bully to others. School bullying creates a hostile environment not conducive to learning and puts students’ physical, emotional, and mental health at risk.

If Keaton Jones’ story inspired you to take action, check out the StopBullying prevention toolkits for students, parents, teachers, and community members.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2AdMv6B

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2zUwbqq via Viral News HQ