#have this one little scene in my head where you're both in the midst of battle (at night) and he finally hits you abruptly with his webs | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hwangbun · 10 months ago

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There's so much to say about this chapter. it makes me want to become a literature major just so I can write a thesis paper on it. analyse and pick every word from it. I want the chapter to never end but also to fit it all in a little a5 piece of paper so I can fold it up and put it in my pocket. to unfold and enter slwy!verse everywhere I go. I want to have coffee with you so I can pick apart your elite brain, Jade.

...you're right, 40k words went by so fast. there's so much to unpack in this chapter... so many events happened that 40k didn't really give it justice! it could have been fleshed out into 2, 3 chapters, and it still wouldn't feel drawn out.

I feel like we got to explore a very different facet of hyunyn here, both their individual characters and their dynamics together... from our perspective (reader and yn's) it really seems like hyunjin made a 360degree turn out of seemingly nowhere. All his repressed desperation came out in this short span of 40k words lol. But because of this, and because I'm a simple person who likes simple things :) it slightly frustrated me when we weren't offered an explicit explanation from Hyunjin about "what changed"... and only heart stupid fluttering comments like

“I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”

“Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”

“I have all of you in me.”

He confessed so many times this chapter all pointing toward a "i love you. stay with me forever" but never explicitly that. That's why it felt nice to have him say

“I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”

It's so nice to have them communicating honestly with each other. Like their bathroom scene LOL why are they both so sly. Speaking of which, why was this chapter so fucking funny xD. I don't know if that was your intention but the banter between everyone was chef's kiss :3

Having said that I would love to know more about what had explicitly made Hyunjin change his mind, because he had such a pessimistic view of relationships re

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know. Things will never change. But I’m not gonna be the one to take away his hope”. “You really think that…?” “I don’t think that. I know it” Your heart dropped, offended at the negativity he possessed, “Would it kill you to be a little more positive?” He swallowed, looking right at you, “Me being positive is not gonna bring them back together”.

It's safe to say that convo is never leaving my mind LOL. Even if you are trying your best to work around it couldn't you have kept y/n in the loop or not repeatedly tell her she can't be in your life babe !! I love you, but there are only so many times you can keep hurting me, LOL.

It seems like he had somewhat of an epiphany or has finally come to terms with the fact that he LOVES y/n …. despite him running from love all this time. so you know what, I AM proud of you babe no matter how frustrating you are <3 baby steps :)

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I also loved the scene where they were having a deep talk in the middle of a fucking party, in the midst of all the chaos... they understand each other so profoundly, and genuinely care about what each other has to say, and each other's thoughts and opinions... they don't just conversate to talk. but to listen, which I think not many people actually do. The little things like y/n being curious, and genuinely wanting to know more about his thoughts

Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”

That little sentence and this whole exchange makes up the bulk of why I love their relationship so much, and why they are so perfect for each other. They are so alike in their genuine curiosity and need to explore each other, and the world. To see the world through each other’s eyes.

Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”

was funny as fuck and really highlighted that no one understands them better than each other. It kind of pulled me back into reality - I was so fixated on them much like they are on each other, that I forgot they were at a party, with other people there in the room too lol.

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I also really liked how you wrote the whole part of y/n breaking down. It felt really organic and so real;

The dam broke. A single tear at first. Then a sob. “Hyun…”

Sometimes, we just need somebody to hug;

“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.”

I also really liked (I liked everything LOL) this part bcus it is what a lot of people unintentionally and habitually do — redirect the conversation to themselves..

He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on?

I think it's a bit of both. He certainly cares about what Jieong did and how he made y/n feel, but he was also angry at himself for not being there for her when it happened (…obv). Which was more dominant...that I'm not too sure...I totally understand y/n's confusion and frustration because at this point, he hadn't really given her much.

But yeah, YOU gave us so much Jade!!!! This chapter was so much to take in and I have got to reread it!! Thank you as always and I can't wait for some sickeningly sweet tooth rotting fluff for the remaining chapters :)))xxx

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 19

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

word count: 40K (yeah....i promise it doesn't feel like that much!)

warnings: cursing, lots of casual drinking, mature content, angst, mutual pining, a shit ton of sexual tension, slight jealousy, making out, kissing, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, reference to depression, some self-blaming, whipped! hyunjin, a lot of fluff

a/n: this is definitely one of my favourite chapters, and ends with an arc I've been looking forward to for a while. it's a very hyunyn centric chapter, which is why i love it. i honestly could have worked on this chapter forever, because there's so much i wanted to include, and i hope you like the finished product. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read, and some light music to match. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the warmth of the apartment, battling the cold from the outside where he’d left the door open. His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”

It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak. You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?

You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction. He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too. You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”

“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”

Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”

Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him. His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched you. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”

“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened. You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He blinked at you, voice raising in his prolonged disbelief, “Wait…What are you talking about? What do you mean, you’re going home?”

You had no clue how to explain this to him, you suppose it was out of nowhere…but what did he expect? Right at that moment, Jeongin finally caught up to you on the sixth floor, and he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees, panting, “I have no idea why I just ran up all those stairs.” He straightened up, finally noticing Hyunjin, “How did you get into the building?”

Hyunjin looked back at him as if this was the last of his problems, stating bluntly, “I pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just come into a stranger’s building, what the hell, dude” It should have been expected that Jeongin, obviously was unaware of and possibly didn’t give a fuck about idols. In any other circumstance, you might have found it funny. Hyunjin frowned at him, “I’m not a stranger. She knows me.”

You sighed, “Jeongin, I’ll be down in a minute. Thank you for getting the taxi.” Jeongin was still suspiciously glaring at him, then looked at you, face immediately relaxing, “Okay. The drivers really hate waiting, so I suggest you go soon, Y/N.”

Your decision was suddenly settling in and becoming more real. You gave him a nod, “Right. I’ll get going then.”

You stepped past Hyunjin, brushing his shoulder, and a part of you was satisfied that he didn’t have as big of an effect on you as he used to. You didn’t stop dead in your tracks because of him. You’d decided what you would do, and nothing Hyunjin could say would change your mind. It seemed like he was still catching up to this new information you’d dumped on him. His face was in disbelief as you passed him, and you hurriedly descended the stairwell. If you stopped to think about this decision, you might regret it, or you might cry, and you weren’t going to let either happen. The front door was in sight, and chills ran up your skin the closer you got. Your head was pounding with the weight of this hurried decision. You won’t regret this. You couldn’t. Daejon was your home, and you needed to be there.

Through the fog of your thoughts, you heard Hyunjin call your name. At first, your name sounded like a realization, and then it was more in desperation. The taxi waiting for you honked loudly, and you paused at the front door. Hyunjin’s footsteps were loud in the atrium, and he was running down the stairwell. He was running to catch up to you. It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do. He could fall or trip. That was the only reason you stopped, turning around in frustration, “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”

He gripped the rusty railing, and his coat flew behind him as he caught up to you, breathless, “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me?”

“It’s stupid to run down the stairs. What were you even thinking?” You frowned, heart calming down at seeing that he was okay.

“I’m not thinking.” His teeth grit together, and he was still breathing heavily, voice hoarse, “I don’t understand. Can you just please talk to me?”

“What part?” A sorry laugh escaped you, “I told you. I’m going back home. That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He reached out, grabbing your arm to stop you, “No, but why?”

You weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Of course not. “I don’t know Hyunjin. There’s nothing in the city for me to stay for. Why are you even here? I thought you said you couldn’t be a part of my life.”

Hurt flashed across his face, which you couldn’t even comprehend. How could he be hurt right now after he’d pushed you out this whole time? You’d been in the same city as him for months, yet he never reached out to you, or apologized. He couldn’t just suddenly want something else when it was convenient for him.

“But…what about the classes? What about Kim Jieong? He wouldn’t want you to leave.” He knew nothing about your time in the classes, he had no right to question you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, and all the emotions you suppressed came up. Just then, the taxi honked again, and the phone in your pocket started buzzing too. You looked at the caller ID. Felix was calling and you picked up, eyes on Hyunjin’s briefly, “Yes, Lix?”

“Have you left for the train station yet, love?” He was concerned, so full of care for you. Your heart softened, and your voice dropped as you held the phone tightly to your ear, “No, I’m on my way. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“It’s getting late. I’m worried about you.” He spoke. Hyunjin was staring at you as you took the phone call. Your gaze briefly flickered over him. Even now, after running down the stairs and walking through a freaking snowstorm, he looked like some kind of angel. There was snow all over his coat and his hair. His nose and cheeks were dark pink, and his lips were still bitten raw. “Don’t be worried. I’ll be home soon,” You mumbled, calming Felix’s tendency to worry about you. Felix had an unspoken excitement in his tone, “Okay. Love you. See you soon.”

You swallowed, highly aware of the man in front of you, “Love you too.” It’s as if those words changed the atmosphere. Hyunjin’s tense shoulders dropped as if resigning to a chosen fate. When you hung up, pushing the phone into your pocket, Hyunjin spoke, “So you’re just leaving? That’s it?”

“Yeah. What would you want me to do? Say goodbye? Maybe I would have, if I still had any way of contacting you,” You said. A taunt and petty jab, sure, but it was also the truth. Hyunjin wasn’t there when you needed him, so why was he here now?

He closed his eyes in regret. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it was the truth. After all, you two were practically strangers right now. You didn’t know what was going on in his life. You didn’t have any of his information. Yet he was here, in your apartment building. Curiosity tickled you, and you tilt your head, “Why did you even come here tonight, Hyunjin? Did something happen?”

His eyes pierced through yours, “I… wanted to talk to you. I would have come before, but… I’ve been traveling all month, I couldn’t help it”

“Right. Japan. Must have been nice.”

You were aware you sounded like a bitch, but that was the only way you could distance yourself, so leaving him behind would hurt less. Except that would only work if he let you leave. He grabbed your arm again, pulling you close, “Y/N… what’s going on? Please…tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes seemed so sincere. He seemed so sincere. And concerned for you. Your heart squeezed in worry. He must be so confused. If you really wanted to hurt him, you would leave right now with no explanation. It would show him how you felt, how it felt to be on the other side of things, to be cut off like this. But you weren’t him, so you’d at least try to offer an explanation.

“Hyunjin…” Before you could continue, the cab outside honked twice impatiently, and you realized all your suitcases were in the trunk. If the driver got pissed and drove off, your stuff would be gone too. Not that there was anything you still cared for in it. But you panicked, “Fuck…I would like to explain, but I don’t have the time. He’ll leave, and all my stuff’s with him. I’m sorry, you’re too late, Hyunjin.”

His face dropped into despair and that was all you had time to register before you turned away, walking out the door. The taxi was parked right outside with the engine running to preserve warmth. The apology was already on your lips, “I’m sorry sir. I got held up.”

The driver looked pissed as hell, and he glanced at you from his window, “You’re heading to the station? Because it seems like you’re wasting my time.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

He rolled his eyes, slurring words, “Either get in, or take your shit and get out”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

Oh god.

Hyunjin had followed you out, obviously having overheard this. You turned to him, “I got this, okay? You don’t need to—”

“Dude, I have other customers too!” The guy yelled at him, clearly pissed by how Hyunjin talked back, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Hyunjin was staring at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You didn’t know how he’d react. You’d never seen this side of him, and you reached out to him, “Hyunjin, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t”

He bypassed you, stepping up to the guy, leaning in to rest on the driver’s side window, “How much?”

“What?” The guy spat back.

“How much does she owe you?” Hyunjin repeated in a calm tone. The taxi driver was eyeing him back, “For this nonsense, three hundred thousand won”

You almost laughed, “What?”

“Okay,” Hyunjin replied, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He took out his credit card, and handed it to him calmly, “Please open the trunk”

The guy also didn’t seem to believe it, and he was wide-eyed, grabbing Hyunjin’s credit card to swipe it. And then with ease, Hyunjin grabbed your suitcases, pulling them out and settling them down on the curb.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you have a good night,” Hyunjin said to him, still in a calm voice that contrasted with the drivers’. The guy looked up at him, “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”

And then he drove off in a plume of smoke and snow.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?”

You’d been too shocked to process the state of things. Hyunjin looked back at you, the ever-present image of calm, “Can we go inside?”

You stepped up to him, in disbelief, “No, no, we fucking can’t. That was my ride. Why did you just pay him off? And three hundred thousand won? Are you insane? He completely ripped you off! And why the hell are you making decisions for me?”

“If you really want to go, I’ll drive you to the train station, but I’m not letting you get into a car like that, he seemed wasted.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “You’ll drive me to the train station?”

“Yeah, I will, if it means you’ll be safe.”

“From how you’re acting right now, you seem pretty wasted too.”

“Look.” He suddenly said, “Kairi told me you haven’t responded to her texts in a week. She got worried—”

“And she sent you here to check up on me? Kairi should know better.”

Hyunjin ignored your jab and continued talking, “And clearly she was right to be worried, because you’re moving out in the middle of the night in a freaking snowstorm!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not really.” You stared at him, hugging yourself tighter. The snow was coming down heavy, wind building up so you could barely even hear each other. He seemed unaffected by every attack of yours, “I know you don’t…but… she’s worried about you. The least you could do is tell her what’s going on.”

You glared at him, “So you’re only here for her, right? If I call her right now, you’ll leave?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing, “No…I’m worried about you too. I…don’t understand.”

Of course, he was worried now, the only time it seemed to matter the least. You were freezing, and the time for leaving seemed to have come and gone. You could book another taxi, but the snow was only growing, and there was still time for your train, so it wouldn’t make any sense to stand outside in this terrible weather. So you said, “Yeah. Sucks not to know things, doesn’t it?”

Hyunjin ignored the taunt yet again, and picked your suitcase up, “Can we please just wait inside?”

So, you didn’t argue for once and let him follow you back inside. It was just a matter of time, but this meant you’d need to have an actual conversation with Hyunjin, and you were dreading that.

“You live on the top floor?” He asked, looking up the atrium. You took your bag from his hands, “Yup. I’ll take that.”

“What, no” He didn’t let you, pulling it back, “You’re not carrying that up.”

It wasn't even heavy but you gave in, too tired to protest, letting him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You were so annoyed that you only just realized that this meant he’d see where you live. You suddenly felt embarrassed. The stairwell was rickety and shabby. Your apartment was so small, it felt like a joke. And he’d see it. Maybe this was a bad decision, but it didn’t matter anymore what he thought. He probably already thought terrible things about you. He certainly wouldn’t have ignored you for months if he didn’t.

You pushed open your door, and he stepped in tentatively. There wasn’t really much for him to see, yet his eyes traveled across the entire space and all your furniture as he took it in. He’d never even seen your room in Daejon. So he must think you live like this all the time. Poorly and with no taste. It was laughable how different you two were.

“No art?” He questioned, staring at the empty, barren walls. A pang hit you as you realized, “I got rid of it.”

He glanced at you, eyes wide, “Oh.”

You sat on the armrest of your couch, facing him, and he still stood at the threshold, processing your apartment. He seemed weirdly fascinated with it and asked, “Can I come in?”

“You’re already like, halfway in, so yeah” You mumbled. He stepped inside, for real, shutting the door behind him. This all felt so insane. Hyunjin was in your fucking apartment. Why? You thought you’d got rid of all the anger in you, but you certainly hadn’t. Your conversation with Minnie and Jamie came back to you too. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her. Is that why he was interested in you again? That’s probably why he was chasing you again.

“So…um, I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but what about your friends? Kairi…and the people from your classes. Do they know why you’re leaving in the middle of the night?”

You stared at him, observing his expressions. If you told him about Kim Jieong, you’d have no idea how he’d react. You mumbled, “No. They don’t. It doesn’t concern anybody but me.”

He nodded slowly, hurt flashing through him, “Okay. Can…we talk about something else then?”

You crossed your arms, unsure what he even meant, “Yeah. We can talk about how my train leaves in three hours, so I have to be at the station before then.”

He swallowed, “You’re…not going to show me around your place? This is the first time—”

“From where you’re standing, you already saw all of it,” You replied, feeling embarrassed despite not wanting to care. He nodded, “Oh. So…you sleep on the couch?”

You let out a dry laugh at that. Obviously, he was right to assume that based on what you said, but it was still funny because it could have actually been true. You’d been so stupidly fucking desperate for the city you’d have literally slept on a park bench if you had to. Hyunjin frowned at your laughter, “I…I was just asking. Sorry”

“No, I sleep in my bed, which is in my bedroom and I don’t really see why you’d care about that, so…can you cut to the chase and tell me why you came to my apartment in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm?”

He swallowed, resting his head against your front door, “It wasn’t snowing when I left…”

“Oh, right. That’s inconvenient for you. You wouldn’t have come if it was.”

“No, I still would’ve come.” His eyes narrowed, “Please…just…can you talk to me normally?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I understand that you’re pissed at me, but I just want to have a conversation. I came here because I was worried about you. I would have come sooner if I could, but with my work it’s impossible. So please…can we just talk?”

No, you couldn’t because if you 'just talked’ to him, you’d remember how crazy in love with him you still were, after all his repeated rejections and ghosting, and not wanting you. You changed the topic, “You know that cab driver ripped you off, right? That ride isn’t worth that money.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “I know. But…he was drunk, and it’s not safe for him to drive anyone. With that amount, he wouldn’t have to take any more customers for the night. It’d be enough for the week.”

So he was still kind to everyone except you. Even to your wasted taxi driver. Good to know.

“There. I answered your question. Are you going to be answering mine?” He spoke, for once matching your fervor and energy. You stared at him, “Which question? You asked me, like ten.”

He sighed, stepping away from the door, and closer to you. He was so tall, he really did make your apartment seem small. He was almost as tall as your couch. You gripped the sides of the armrest, looking up at him. His face traversed many expressions like he was struggling with the right thing to say, and then he spoke, “Are you okay?”

You chose to be honest, chewing on your lower lip as you admitted, “I will be when I get home.”

His face fell, like he’d been expecting something else, and his whole body seemed tense. You suppose it was a valid reaction because this had been your dream, so he couldn’t possibly understand why you were running away. “But…”

“But what?” You asked, looking up at him, not wanting to leave any breathing room for emotions because now was not the time. If you went down that spiral, you’d never come back out, “It’s your turn to answer now. I still can’t understand why you’re here, after our conversation in the car.”

He contemplated for a second, looking away, and then back at you, saying, “I came here to make sure you were okay… that’s why I got on the first flight back home.”

You stood up, staring at him, “Flight back from where?”

“Bangkok.” He stated, a tinge of embarrassment in his features, “We had a schedule there…a show, but Kairi told me that you hadn’t responded to her texts, she was really worried…I had to come back.”

You stilled, and he surprised you for the first time that night. “What about the others?”

“The rest of the band is still there.” He spoke, “I just… couldn’t wait”

“You…took a flight for this?” You were having trouble processing this. He nodded, resignation and disappointment in his voice, “But clearly I should’ve come sooner.”

For a second, you allowed yourself the luxury to wonder if things would be different, had he come sooner. If things had been different, had he never left you at all. You couldn’t even imagine the other side of things — a reality where he stayed with you all this, and maybe all those bad things wouldn’t have happened to you. You couldn’t blame Hyunjin for everything that went wrong in your life after he left, but it sure seemed convenient to blame him. A myriad of thoughts overwhelmed you. He was confusing you too much. You needed to get out of this city, far away from here, and it felt like you were suddenly leaving with no good memories. Hyunijn was looking at you so deeply, so you swallowed your pride, “Can you do me a favour, Hyunjin?”

“Anything. What is it?”

“Can we just…stop by the Atelier before you take me to the station?” You asked, hoping he would oblige you in this last request since he seemed far too eager anyway, “Please.”

“Oh. Okay.” Defeat sank into his shoulders as he realised you had indeed made up your mind. Maybe he expected to hear something else from you. He didn’t protest though, because he had already agreed. In deafening silence, he led you to his car, which was parked around the block. When he opened the trunk, you saw his own suitcase. A simple black suitcase. He really had just come from the airport. It shocked your heart in a way you’d craved for all this time. When Yeonjun had come home to make up with Hana, you’d wished that someone would love you that much, to fly across the country for you. And Hyunjin did even more than that. He flew from another country… Yet you didn’t know what to make of it. He only came because Kairi was worried for you.

He carefully placed your bags next to his, as if anything was fragile in them but your clothes. He was uncannily quiet as he drove you, and you had nothing left to say. You watched the passing skyscrapers, and craved for the quiet of the mountainside back home. The Atelier wasn’t too far from your place, and he already seemed to know the way.

“So why are we here, Y/N?” He asked, as you both stared up at the towering glass building that was home to your classes. Seeing it now in the dark, it was one of the prettiest buildings you’d seen, built like art, for artists. You remember seeing it on the front page of the brochure you’d found years ago, and it had decided the trajectory of your life. It was still snowing, flakes falling on the two of you, and it was so cold in the parking lot. You owed him an explanation so you spoke, “This last week, I was working on a painting. It was becoming something really special, but… I forgot it in the classroom. I’d like to take it with me when I go.”

“Oh.” He simply nodded like it made all the sense in the world, not questioning this stupid request, and followed you to the front door. Obviously, nobody was here. It was after hours, and no security guards were in sight. You stared at the revolving doors, trying to figure out a plan. “Is it locked?” Hyunjin asked you, sounding impatient in this weather, “You don’t have the access card?”

If you entered the building with your keycard, it’d send a notification straight to Kim Jieong. That’s how he’d known you were here the last time. The memory sent you a shudder, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into him. You bit your lip, “Wait. I’m thinking.”

The cold was making you do stupid things, like shifting closer to him, so your shoulder would brush his. Simple body heat. Even through your thick coat, and his, the touch sent a flutter to your stomach. Hyunjin glanced at you as you did that, and his lips were becoming icy cold, “Well… it’d be nice if you could think faster. I wouldn’t want to die of hypothermia before you figure it out.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden sass in his tone, “Are you done?”

“Give me your keycard, let’s just go in.” He let out a breath, fog leaving his mouth. You frowned, not wanting to explain the whole story, “I don’t have one. It’s deactivated.”

“Okay…” He sighed, looking around the facade, “Is there another entrance we can use?”

You thought over his words. You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You shrugged, hands deep in your coat pockets, “The back door.”

“Well, why don’t we just use that?” He asked. You shot him a tight smile, “It’s technically off-limits.” It was the emergency stairwell. You’d heard enough lectures about it, but you didn’t care right now. That was the only way to get into the building. You’d just have to suck it up. “I’m going to have to…technically break in.” You stepped ahead. His eyes widened, and he reached out to stop you, “What?”

“Only technically. You should probably go back to the car, because if someone comes here, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It could hurt your…reputation.”

“No, it could put us in jail.” He stated matter-of-factly, and the cold must make him more sassy or annoyed or something. You didn’t have time for this. You sighed, crossing your arms, “That’s exactly why you should wait in the car. I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll grab my stuff and come.”

He let out a forced laugh, and there was a shiver in his voice, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be quick,” You reassured him. He stared at you, deadpan, “You’re not going in there by yourself.”

You frowned at his displaced concern, “It’s just an art school, Hyunjin, nothing’s going to harm me in there”

He glanced up at the towering building that did look kind of ominous right now, “You don’t know that. I’m not taking any chances.”

You felt frustrated because he was only protesting and not offering any solutions, “Well, you’re not stopping me, Hyunjin.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” You scoffed, “I’m breaking in. If somebody finds out, you’re going to get into trouble—”

“I don’t care.” He interrupted you harshly and then took a breath, repeating, “I don’t care if I get into trouble. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.”

Your eyes widened, watching him. Did he really not think of the consequences? He spent all his life protecting his public image, and now he was willing to risk it for you? His words sent an unpleasant feeling down your spine. He cared. He cared about you to the point that he was okay with being caught. That was a new kind of feeling you couldn’t process. All this while, you’d prioritised Hyunjin’s needs and the consequences in his life because he was so much more important than you. This was new.

“Are you sure?” You asked. He glanced at the building and then around the abandoned parking lot as if he was seriously reconsidering this absurd request. You saw the hesitation in his posture, his lips parting as if to say no he was only joking, and he would never do something as stupid as this. Then his eyes landed on yours. They flickered over your face, the cold in his gaze melting into strange tenderness, “Of course I’m sure. I can’t let you go alone.”

“Fine.” You nodded, breath coming out in a cold puff, “We should be quick.” He followed you to the back of the building, the big glowing EXIT sign, and the notice that read, ‘This is not an entrance. Please use front door access’

You sucked in a breath for good measure, pushing the door open, and when no immediate alarms rang, you stepped in. Hyunjin followed you into the darkness, and you switched on your phone's flashlight to guide you. You were still shivering. There was no heating in here, and he asked, “Now what, Y/N?”

“My class is on the top floor,” You whispered, just in case someone was in the stairwell.

“I’m guessing we can’t use the elevator?” He deadpanned. You gripped the handrail, “Yeah. Using the elevator’s too risky. If someone’s still in the building, they’d realise.”

“This painting must be really important to you.” He spoke, following you up the stairs into complete darkness. The Atelier was fancy, but this stairwell…was not. It was industrially exposed, the sound of a loud generator buzzing and a flickering light above you. There was a constant banging sound that you guessed was from the pipes in the wall. You tried not to overthink this situation, where Hyunjin was breaking and entering with you in your dream academy. Each little sound was putting you on edge. You heard him mutter, “This is really creepy.”

Over your shoulder, you peeked at him. He had his flashlight turned on too, and it shone into his face, dark shadows over his jaw and lips. “Are you afraid?” You asked. He shook his head, “Let’s just get this over with, Y/N.”

You climbed the rest of the floors in silence, preserving your voice and breath. It was still freezing in here, and you did feel bad that you’d dragged him along for this. But out of everything, this was the least he could do. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come here alone, not after what happened the other night with Jieong. You were glad he insisted to come with you, even if you never would have expected him to in a million years. Finally, you reached the landing for the highest floor and stopped to catch your breath. There was a door marked ‘Rooftop Access’, that led to the greenhouse-studio.

“Do we exit here?” He asked, reaching out to the knob. As he pulled the door open, light flooded the stairwell from outside. The lights in the studio were usually always turned off, but if they were on.… The cogwheels in your brain clicked just in time.

“Stop!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back towards you. He stumbled, losing his balance in the dark and you steadied him. He braced himself against the wall, unintentionally pressing you to it.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide.

“The lights were still turned on. That means someone’s in there.” You breathed, heart racing fast. You could have easily been caught. You weren’t really worried for yourself because you had nothing to lose, but Hyunjin…you really didn’t want to get him into trouble, even if he was completely okay with the consequences. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh. Okay”

He stepped away from you, and you could hear his heartbeat. “You scared me” He mumbled, after a while. He reached up to fix his messy hair, moving it out of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were scared of the dark, Hyunjin.” You mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not. I’m…scared of people yanking my arm suddenly in confined spaces.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You touched his arm, brushing over the coat, wondering if you’d grabbed him too hard. Had you bruised him? He didn’t stop you, as if he enjoyed being fawned over and then spoke, “So what is our plan? Are we going to stand in the stairwell forever? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the station.”

“We’re waiting for them to leave, whoever it is” You mumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall to rest, “I don’t want to run into anybody.”

“What if they decide to stay here the entire night?”

“They won’t. It must be a janitor. They’ll leave soon. Nobody even comes in after hours. The other night when I was—” You cut yourself short, not wanting to tell Hyunjin about the events of that night. He picked up on it though, tilting his head, “When you were what?”

You cleared your throat, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

His lips pursed, but he didn’t question further. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Hyunjin’s head whipped to the door, then to you, “Are they coming in here?”

Clearly he was still scared of being caught, despite all the talk of not giving a shit about the consequences. In panic, you pressed your finger to his lips, “Can you please be quiet?”

He instantly shut up, not that he had a choice with you shushing him like this anyway. His lips were soft to your fingertips, and you stared at each other in the low light of your flashlight. The footsteps sounded again, and you heard the elevator ding. Whoever was in the studio had just left. You were in the clear.

You retracted your hand, his saliva sticking to your fingers, and if it had been anybody else, you would have wiped it off immediately because that was gross. But with him…you didn’t care. You’d lick your own fingers to taste him, if he wasn’t standing right here. The thought crossing your mind was insane and you felt annoyed at yourself for trudging into that territory again. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you the last time you met, and the time before that, and before that. Why were you so fucking weak around him? All your frustrations with him couldn’t seem to damper the attraction you felt. “They’re gone now” You mumbled, hoping to sound as emotionless and detached as you aspired to be, wiping your hand on your coat, and Hyunjin noticed that, his cheeks tinging pink.

“Let’s go” He slowly followed behind you into the elevator lobby, where the massive glass doors led to your studio. He looked confused, “I thought we were going to a classroom”

“Yeah. We are.” You replied curtly, pushing open the doors and walking onto the metal walkway. Plants drowned you on both sides, and your company's only telltale sound was his winter boots loud on the metal grate. Hyunjin was looking around in awe, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes would always give him away. He was awestruck. A small part of you was satisfied. You’d been dreaming of this reaction ever since you’d joined these classes. At least you got to see it before you left. He reached out, touching the petals of a dozen different flowers as you passed them, until you entered the studio space. You used to feel so much joy stepping in here. But it had always been coupled with sadness too —you’d been moving on from Hyunjin in this very space, and here he was, none the wiser.

“Shit. This is your classroom?” He stepped into the centre, doing a full circle, head tilted up to the glass ceilings. The view was so pretty at night, revealing the beauty of the lit-up skyscrapers. The famous city lights that Hyunjin loved.

“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to the storage cupboards. You tried not to think of Kim Jieong and what had happened the last time you were here. You had a mission, a singular focus, and you ripped open the cabinets, rifting through them to look for your painting. It was a massive canvas, but maybe somebody had rolled it up and put them here. There was no way they’d throw it away, right? You’d been working on it so deliberately. They’d have to know it wasn’t trash. Kim Jieong wouldn’t do that to you either. But after looking through every cupboard, your heart sank. There was nowhere else it could be. Maybe he did throw out your artwork, because none of the paintings you’d made in the last few months were here. Shockingly, it seemed you knew nothing of him.

In defeat, you leaned against the desk, staring into the empty cupboard. You…had just wanted your unfinished canvas, as a stupid souvenir or something to take home with you so your time here didn’t feel wasted. You’d poured so much energy, hours of research and experience behind it. It was the first art piece in the city you’d genuinely been excited about, and now it was just…gone. Like it never existed in the first place, and you’d only been gone a week but it felt like you were already being erased.

A short laugh interrupted you. You turned to see Hyunijn bent over a telescope that looked out into the city, “This…is a dream. Holy shit.”

“I’m glad you like it” You mumbled, fiddling with your coat as you stayed in place. At least someone was having a good time. He glanced at you, cheeks red, and stood up straight, “This…is the coolest art studio I’ve ever been in.”

“Yeah. It is pretty cool”

“The range of this thing…is insane. I actually think I can see a planet from here” He spoke, focusing on the telescope again. It was cute, his tall frame bent over the telescope that was meant for much shorter people. He was so easily excited about things, like he had forgotten you’d broken into this building, and that you’d been arguing with each other less than an hour ago. It reminded you of how fixated he would get on the things he loved.

“A planet? Wow…” You mumbled.

“Do you ever use it in class?” He asked, excitement in his tone.

“No…I never got the chance to.” Your voice dropped, trailing off at the what-ifs and your missed opportunities. You were running away from the place you’d dreamed of for so long. All because of a stupid man. It wasn’t fair to you. Nothing about this was fair. Why had you worked so hard for it to be thrown away? He blinked at you, as if he noticed the sadness in your voice, “Do you want to?”

“I don’t really know how it works.” You swallowed, staring at the empty cabinets, and your heart felt so heavy, like a huge weight was pressing down on it, and you couldn’t breathe right. All of the anxiety bubbled up in your throat, filling your lungs with it too. Your lip quivered, a tremble traveling through your spine, and the heaviness in your chest was only getting worse as reality set in. You were never going to be in here again. So much for chasing that dream.

“Come here.” Hyunjin’s soft voice broke your avalanche of despair. You sucked in a breath, hoping any tears would disappear and glanced at him. He stood against the large floor-to-ceiling window, hands around the telescope, the city as his majestic backdrop. You didn’t want to protest. This was your last night in the city, you might as well indulge in it. You walked over to him, and each step felt like so much effort, your boots loud in the quiet room.

“Stand over here” He said, his voice low but filled with excitement. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of committing a crime right now?” You couldn’t help but say, wondering if it’d snap him back to reality, if he would stop being such a romantic. His lip curled up into a smile, and Hyunjin was so pretty in the moonlight, voice dropping into a secret, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

God. His words sent chills down your body, momentarily displacing that heaviness. A secret night with him. The temptation was screaming. You stepped up to the telescope, bending down to the eyepiece. Hyunjin grabbed your hands without hesitation, placing them in the proper position on the metal tube. His voice was tender as he explained, “Now, put your hands here, and try to look through the eyepiece in that direction.”

Had you completely derailed from the plot? Your train home was in a few hours. Each second being here was literally a crime. Still, you indulged him, squinting to see where he’d pointed it. You could only see black and perhaps you weren’t special enough to see magnificent things such as celestial planets. You felt frustrated, trying really hard to see, but it was a big blob of nothing.

“Do you see it?” He asked, voice a whisper. You saw nothing of significance.

“No…never mind.” You breathed, standing up straight with disappointment. “Wait…” He spoke, quick to want to fix it, “Can I…?”

You shrugged, not understanding what he was asking. He grabbed you by the waist, adjusting you slightly. His hand curled around your thick coat, and you wished he was touching your skin. He was so close to your body. Your breath was stuck in your throat, and then he said, “Can you try now? Bend down again.”

You followed his instructions like they were the words of god. You tried not to fog up with the eyepiece with your breath and to focus on the view, but Hyunjin was touching you and standing behind your body, so how could you possibly focus? You mumbled, “I just see…a big white spot.”

“That’s it” He whispered, leaning down, his mouth brushing against your ear, “That’s Jupiter, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you gripped the tube tighter for a better hold, “But it’s just a speck of light…”

He chuckled, breath warm on your ice-cold skin, “I know, we’re so far away from it, but it’s bigger than we can ever imagine. You see those two circles in the centre? Those are the cloud belts.”

“I see them.” You spoke, suddenly feeling so small. It was so huge, a real-life planet, and from here it was just a speck in the sky. Your place in the world felt even more trivial. It was so majestic. You tried to imagine all the pictures of Jupiter you’d seen, placing them into this context. Hyunjin’s hand was still on your waist, not that you could feel it much through the clothes, only a ghost of a touch. You straightened up, and he left his grip on you as you asked, “How do you know so much about this?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “I’ve been doing some reading. We’re lucky the snow stopped. Usually, nothing is visible. The lights and cloud cover are too much.”

You stepped away from the telescope, wondering where he found the time to read up about this between his very busy life, “I see.”

He had a hint of a smile, “What did you think? It’s surreal, right?”

It was. It was so beautiful....

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “My painting isn’t here. We should go.”

The smile on his face dropped, and he nodded, voice returning to a normal octave, “Right. Where do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, and the weight on your chest was back, and you couldn’t look at him right now, “I checked everywhere. They probably threw it out. I should just go to the station, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Right.” His voice sounded hollow. You didn’t want to leave him. But he wasn’t even here, was he? He was just…doing you a favour, and then he’d go back to not wanting you in his life.

“I can…help you look for the painting” He suggested, “Couldn’t it be in other places? We can check the rest of the building.”

“No, it’s gone. We came here for nothing. Please, let’s just leave.”

His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “This studio is beautiful. I’d…actually do anything to have a space like this to paint in, feels like I’d never run out of inspiration.”

You stared at him, wondering what point he was trying to make now. Then he said, “Why do you want to leave this, Y/N?”

You didn’t answer him, a horrible twisting in your gut, and glanced at the exact spot you’d been standing when Kim Jieong cornered you against the table, making all kinds of suggestions to you. You felt sick to your core again.

“It’s not because of me, right?”

You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed, and suddenly, the weight wasn’t pushing down but pulling you instead. You felt like you were drowning, lungs crushing with the force of being dragged down and you had tunnel vision, overwhelmed with everything, “What?”

“You’re leaving. Is it…because of me?” His voice was low, and his words were not helping. You couldn’t tell if Hyunjin was drowning you, or savi you right now.

A lump formed in your throat, forbidding you from speaking as you processed those words. Were you leaving the city behind because of him? Maybe. He was a big part of it, but you’d never run away from Hyunjin. You’d chase him forever if you could. How could he even think that it was cause of him? You bit your lip, “If it was because of you, I’d be gone a long time ago, Hyunjin.”

You turned to leave, and Hyunjin’s next words echoed through the large room, “Please don’t go.”

Your eyes widened at his…blatant, crude request. He’d done nothing but push you away. How could he ask you to stay?

“I know… I’m the last person who has the right to ask you to stay, but… there’s so much for you here. I know you would love it.”

You turned to face him, “Like…what?”

It’s like he didn’t expect you to actually humor him, and he blurted, tripping over his words, “You can’t leave without having seen Christmas. Everything’s…a blanket of snow, and it’s lit up, and the city lights…are so beautiful, Y/N. You can’t miss that. You can’t not see them.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and you wanted to cry at this. What kind of reasoning was this? Hyunjin was asking you to stay, and you must be dreaming, right?

“Christmas is really far away, Hyunjin…”

He took another step closer, more confident like he'd found his reasoning now, “I know, but it’ll be so worth it. It’s my favorite time of the year. You’ll fall in love with it too. It seems like you hate this place, and it feels like my fault, but there is so much for you here. I’ve only been back a few months and I’ve already seen a hundred things you would love. You would appreciate them more than anybody, and I’ve thought of you every time. You belong here, not…in that town back home.”

It was so tempting, especially when he said it like that. “I can’t stay, Hyunjin”

He stepped even closer, “Why?” He asked, a desperation slipping through. He cared so much. You wish he had shown it before. It didn’t matter now. Things had immeasurably changed, in this very room. You had been trying so hard to not feel the weight of everything, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that.

The dam broke.

A single tear at first.

Then a sob. “Hyun…”

Immediately, without any question or hesitation, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms.

His touch brought on a wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, pitiful sobs bubbling to the top. For the longest time, he just held you in his embrace and you cried. All you could register was his hold on you, and his heart racing against your ear. He squeezed you tightly, hugging you to him to pull you even closer to his body, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“He…he tried to—” You sniffled, unable to form the words.

“What?” He tensed in your grip. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear anything of that sort, but his hand still ran circles over your back, “Who did what?”

“Kim…Jieong.” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut in his chest, not wanting to burden him with this knowledge but your throat felt clogged with emotion that you couldn’t contain within yourself anymore, “He…said I could convince him”

You were aware that you made no sense, but it was enough for him to understand. Hyunjin pulled back, hands holding your shoulders as he looked at you, and his eyes were wide, “What? Did he touch you?”

“No…” You sniffled, lip trembling, “He…just…”

Hyunjin’s hand came up to your face, holding your chin unbeknownst that your professor had tried the same. You were only filled with terror when Kim Jieong did that, but right now…you felt the safest in the world. Your face was hot, his hand was warm on you. His thumb wiped your tears, the other hand holding your face tight, “What did he do?”

You shook your head, vision blurry from the tears in your lash line, and you had no idea how to explain this, “Hyunjin. I… don’t even know how to deal with this.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.” He said. You looked up at him, eyes blown wide, “What do you mean?”

He took in a breath, still holding you strongly, as his thumbs gently wiped the tears streaking down your face, and his soft gesture was a stark contrast to his next words, “Tell me what he did. I’m going to talk to that piece of shit.”

“No, you can’t. I…I don’t have any proof, Hyunjin and I don’t even know if he was trying something—” You trailed off, struggling with your words but he wasn’t even listening. He was staring into the distance, “I have to go talk to him.”

“What?”

He started walking out. What the fuck was he doing? You ran after him, tugging at his arm, “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”

He turned to you, his eyes were dark, and his jaw was clenched. and there was more emotion in his face than you’d seen in the past hour as he said, “He…he fucking touched you. He can’t… do that.”

“Oh my god, you can’t go after him”

“Why?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You weren’t equipped to deal with whatever anger he held in him. It seemed like Hyunjin had quickly forgotten who he was in this world. A world-famous celebrity who definitely couldn’t go after a renowned artist, especially not at this time of night. As much as you appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t thought out at all, and it pissed you off, “You don’t even know what happened, Hyunjin!”

“It doesn’t matter. I know enough.”

“Can you please just…calm down?” Your eyes widened, regret soaring through you, “I…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It was a mistake.”

He frowned, stepping closer to you, “Fuck. Don’t… don’t say that. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.” You said. He let in a deep breath, like he was physically calming himself down, running his hands over his face, “Okay. I am listening. I just…need a second.”

You could see the anger surging through him, and you mumbled, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m…not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I should never have brought you here. I could have been on the train home already. You were right, okay? I am running away.” You admitted, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”

His voice softened at your state, “What are you apologizing for? Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, and you realised you’d have to tell him the whole truth now, because you’d stupidly brought it up. You wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he reached into his coat pocket, handing you a tissue, “Let me…”

“You…carry tissues with you?” You vaguely registered through your clouded judgement, wiping your face. He was quiet for a minute, and you tried to collect yourself. You were embarrassed, and your face was burning hot from crying, and from the shame, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry…I ruined your coat.”

“Come here…” He led you to the nearest table, pulling you to sit next to him. He hesitated before reaching out, hand on your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry for reacting. I…I didn’t expect to hear that, but you can’t understand how this makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it but I’m going to drive myself crazy if you don’t tell me what happened.”

He was right, and you probably would have reacted worse if someone had hurt Hyunjin. You would have lost your mind. You had thrust this information upon him unwillingly, and he did deserve to know the truth of it. Now that you tried to recall it, most of it felt like blanks in your mind and you muttered, “There’s an art scholarship that we were told about. It was a big one. If we won, it would pay for the rest of our year, and we could present our work in this gallery. It was supposed to be a huge honor. I was working on a painting for it the other night. I was here by myself…and…Jieong saw me working. I don’t…know how it led to that. I don’t remember most of it, but he said he liked that I was… desperate.”

“What?” Hyunjin interrupted you. You swallowed, “He said that I was desperate to be liked and respected and that I could go a lot of places in the world, if I…convinced him somehow. That all I had to do was ask him…and my dreams could come true.”

He scoffed, “By sleeping with him?”

“I don’t know. I left after that.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, “I was really confused.”

“He hurt you?”

You shrugged, a fresh wave of tears springing up, “No…at least not physically”

His hand reached out to yours, “I’m…really sorry that happened, Y/N.”

You pulled your hand back before he could touch it. You weren’t here tonight to seek Hyunjin’s comfort. You were just offering him an explanation so he wouldn’t be left in the dark after you were gone. You said, “But nothing even happened, Hyunjin. Nothing I can prove anyway. Except that he’s cancelled my scholarship.”

“He can’t do that” He said. You mumbled, “I missed out on an entire week of classes. He…has valid reason now.”

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, “Any of your friends from class?”

As if having this conversation once wasn't embarrassing enough. You didn't plan to tell anybody else about it. It would be a secret you'd take to the grave. If you told people, all they'd question was your obsession to come here in the first place. After all, why would a married man come on to you at all, risking his career? You must have come on to him -- at least that's what everyone would think. You shook your head, “Nope…Just…you.”

“I’m…sorry that this happened. I wish I could…do something to help.” He spoke. You looked at him, unable to comprehend that he was being kind to you again. He was so tender and caring right now, but how long could this really last? The last time he was this tender was in the storage closet, and he’d kissed you so passionately and then immediately cut you off. Wasn’t this compassion just temporary? You stepped away from him, running a hand over your face to wipe away the dried tears, “Yeah. No biggie.”

He noticed the change in your demeanor, dropping his hands to his lap, but said nothing of it. You stared at the place where Jieong had tried to make a move, and where your canvas had been. You wish you hadn't come here that night at all, then you could have been blissfully unaware of his behaviour and stayed happy. The longer you stayed here, the sicker you felt.

“We should talk about this in my car.” Hyunjin said, offering his hand to you again. You stared at his soft palm and inviting touch, but you didn’t take it. If the rejection hurt him, he didn’t show it. You just hugged yourself, “Okay”

You followed him into the elevator lobby, about to head for the stairwell again, but he pressed the button for the elevator. You frowned, “We can’t go out the front door. If they see you—”

“I really don’t give a shit about that right now” He spoke, pushing a hand through his hair, and you noticed how tense he was, “If they catch me, I’d have a lot to talk to them about anyway.”

“But… this is not worth it.” You spoke, as the elevator doors opened. He took in a breath, facing away, running another hand through his hair, you realised he always did that when he was nervous, “I just… can’t believe they let an artist like that work with them.”

You steadied yourself against the elevator wall, as the floors went by. The doors opened into the lobby. You prayed that nobody was in there. No matter how much Hyunjin didn’t care, you didn’t want to cause a scene and you definitely couldn’t handle jeopardizing his job. If anybody saw you two… they could call the cops and he couldn’t afford to be put under scrutiny. It would risk his career and everything else that mattered. Uncaring of this, he stepped into the lobby, footsteps loud as he walked towards the front door. You followed, looking around and thankfully, the front desk was empty. The odds were in your favor, perhaps. He almost looked disappointed that there was nobody to confront as you exited the building. He was walking so fast, and you struggled to keep up as you made your way to the parking lot. Once you were sitting inside his car, you asked him, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”

“I don’t know. He…needs to be fired. He can’t just get away with what he did to you. Once he gets fired, they’ll put in a new teacher, and…you can continue the classes. And for what they’ve put you through, they should grant you a new scholarship anyway, no questions asked. He should be the one to leave, not you.”

Before you could think about his words, your phone on the console buzzed, and you both glanced at it. He read it the same time as you. There was a text from Felix. have you made it to the train station yet, baby?

Hyunjin looked up at you, eyes that were suddenly devoid of anger, but…a new desperation, “Do you…still want me to take you?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything on your shoulders again. Your suitcases were packed and waiting in the trunk. Your train was booked. You’d made your decision. You stared at the window, “Your…plan sounds fine Hyunjin, but… I’m not important enough for them to fire their biggest artist ever. Nothing good can come out of me staying here with that false hope.”

His eyes flickered over your features before turning away. He started the engine, and said nothing, pulling out of the driveway. You tried to gather your emotions, watching the snow piled up by the sides of the street. Your first and last snow here. You imagined being home already. It would help so much. Felix, Minho and all your friends. You'd go back to working at the art shop. Maybe you could pay a grand and enroll in the classes at the Chateau, and practice art under Seungmin. Nothing would come out of it but at least you’d be occupied. Some people weren’t built for greatness, and you could be okay with that, unlike the boy next to you. Hyunjin suddenly spoke, hands gripping the wheel tightly, “It’s not false hope. Something like this can have serious repercussions. You should’ve told me the second he did that. He would already be out of his job by now.”

He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on? You stared at him, “I don’t even have your fucking phone number, Hyunjin.”

He stopped the car, bringing it to the side of the road. You hadn’t reached your destination yet, and you were in the middle of a random neighbourhood. You stared at him, unsure of what was going through his mind, “What are you doing?”

He reached into his coat pocket, took out two identical phones and handed one to you, “I was going to give you this tonight.”

You grabbed it from him, “What is this?”

“It’s…a phone with my number on it” He said, looking right ahead, “I bought it for you.”

Your brows raised, “You…bought me a phone?”

“And this one…” He lifted his own identical phone, which also seemed brand-new, “This is mine. The only thing on it… is your number.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s so we can talk to each other” He turned to face you, “And nobody can trace it back to us, The phone isn’t connected to anything else, except…to each other.”

You blinked, trying to process this, “Oh”

He looked frustrated as he spoke, “I know what I said to you last time. I know that I said we can’t be in each other's life, but… I’m trying my real hardest to find a fucking way around it. What I did and said was uncalled for. I realize that…it hurt you, but you have to cut me some slack, Y/N. I’m…really trying to figure it out.”

“I’ve cut you more slack than I ever would with somebody who’s made it absolutely clear they don’t want me around them” You blinked. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I understand that what I said hurt you, and…I really didn’t mean to. You know me, Y/N, better than anyone in my life and…I would never want to hurt you like that.”

“Then why did you say all those things…?”

He let out a sigh, turning to look at you, “I was only thinking about myself. I guess… I was running away too.”

You stared at him, the irony of tonight striking you. You were blaming him for what he’d done, when you were now doing the exact same thing.

All the fight died down in you.

“We’re more alike than I thought.” He mumbled. Maybe now you could finally understand where he came from. The urge to shut down and cut everybody out had felt far too tempting. You glanced at him, holding the phone tight in your hands. This could be the last time you saw him. He’d never come to Daejon, and you couldn’t afford to come back here. Was this really it? The last time you ever saw Hyunjin. A new emotion overwhelmed you, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye so soon. “Can you please just tell me something before I go?”

His hands rest on the steering wheel, and it seemed like he’d already given up on convincing you to stay. His question came out defeated, “What do you want to know?”

You stared at his side profile, “How did you get the pictures? The ones from the booth.”

“I…went back.” He responded, not questioning the randomness of what you’d just said. You were confused, “What? Went back here?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, “Later that night, I went back to the summer carnival. After you’d already left. When we were in the booth, I deleted our pictures before they could be printed, but…they were still saved to the database. The machines have a backup server, they keep the data for a few hours before it’s overwritten.”

“How was that even allowed?”

“The guy that works there, I…asked him for a favor…and he obliged because well, it’s stupid…”

“Tell me.” You breathed, itching to know the story you’d been wondering for so long. His lip curled up into a reminiscent smile, “I promised to sign this album for his little sister. She really liked our band. Anyway, the guy, he let me access the backup, and…I printed them out.”

Your heart jumped at all of this effort, “Why did you do all of that after deleting them?”

He swallowed, “I changed my mind. I told you, Y/N…I wanted to remember that moment. I needed to.”

You looked away into your lap, “Oh…well…thank you for putting them in my sketchbook, but I’m sorry… I lost the pictures.”

“You what?” He looked at you. You breathed, feeling guilty, “They got ruined…so you did all of that for nothing.”

“Oh.”

There was no way for you to get them back. The summer carnival was long over, and the pictures were erased. It was strange how you two talked about them, clinging to a memory that was long gone, and he never questioned you and why you wanted them. He didn’t question why you were so fixated on them or what they could possibly mean to you. Hyunjin nodded, eyes glazing over you as if he lost deep in thought, “How did they get ruined?”

“They got wet in the rain.” You swallowed. He still seemed shocked at your previous statement, “So…you had them with you? I thought that you would throw them away, after we stopped talking…I thought you hated me.”

“You know me. I hold on to things stupidly, even if I was mad at you. Anyway, not that it matters now…” You shrugged. He nodded, like he was still in his head, and then he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out a strip. Your eyes widened.

He had them. In his wallet.

“You made a copy?” You couldn’t believe it. He let out a laugh, saying, “I went to a lot of effort for these, Y/N. Do you really think I wouldn’t have made a copy?”

“And… they’re in your wallet.” You realised. He swallowed, “Yeah”

“Have they been in your wallet this whole time?”

He blinked, “Yeah. In hindsight, it was a really stupid decision because if I ever lost it, anybody could have seen these. Guess I haven’t been thinking straight, but…you can have my copy”

You delicately grabbed it from him, and it was only worth a few coins but you handled it like it was worth millions. It was a treasured memory. A moment when you’d given in to each other completely, and you had been so happy then. You'd give anything to have those secret moments again, even if they stayed a secret forever. Nothing had felt as rewarding as his lips on yours, making you feel like he wanted you just as bad.

His copy was wrinkled, like he’d taken it in and out of his wallet a million times to look at it. Your copy used to be pristine, it stayed in your sketchbook but his…it was tattered with use. There were folds after every image, and you slowly moved your fingers over them. Your voice was soft, “Have you really changed your mind?”

“About what?” He asked, curiously. You looked at him, “You showed up at my doorstep. It must have been…for something.”

“I changed my mind about a lot of things…” He spoke, the dim streetlights reflecting in his eyes. Curiosity overwhelming you, your voice was a whisper, “You said you were running away too. What made you stop?”

In the darkness of the car, the shadows on his face were intense, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “That night in the car. You said that… all this time you haven't been okay, and that you still aren’t and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you didn’t know the real me, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Who I was in Daejon, that’s…the best version of me, and it took me a really long fucking time to realize that. It was an asshole move that I did. I know I apologized to you, but I wanted to do it again tonight. I’m…really fucking sorry for pushing you away, Y/N. I should have just explained what was going on.” He paused, “But…I guess I’m too late since you’re leaving anyway, right?”

You looked away from him to the snow on his windshield, “Yeah, what will I do in Seoul anyway?”

“He should be the one that’s scared of you, not the other way around”

“Why would he be scared of me?”

“Because you can literally ruin him, and his career. Who knows if you’re the first person he did this to?”

“Well, clearly nobody spoke up against him yet. He’s a legend. Nothing I say will change that, and I…really don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this. I just…want to stay away from it and pretend it never happened.”

He sighed, “I have to tell you about Karina”

“What?” You looked at him.

“She’s…a friend, I guess. A couple of months ago, I asked her if she could get me in touch with Jieong. I wanted to talk to him for you, but she said she isn’t on good terms with him. Something about the way she said it makes me think that she’s been through something similar, like you, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t just get to do that and still have a fucking platform where people worship him.”

Frustration crawled from your chest, “What am I supposed to do about that, Hyunjin?”

He squeezed the steering wheel, “I don’t know, but I’ll help you figure it out. You’ve wanted to come to the city your entire life, you even hid it from your friends, you worked every summer for it. You can’t just give that up so easily. You have to stay.”

“Stay and do what, Hyunjin?”

He turned to face you, shifting closer in the little space, and his voice was quaking with nervousness, staring right into your eyes, “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out too, but…I know you, and this isn’t you. What you did, coming here all by yourself, getting into the program, that wasn’t easy. You did something most people can only dream of, and I know I didn’t express myself well, and that I should have told you sooner but I’m… I’m so fucking proud of you. My first few years here, the only reason I could survive was the members but you…you did that all by yourself. But… you’re not alone, not anymore. If you want to report Jieong, I’m going to help you. If you don’t want to do that, I’ll respect your choice.” He swallowed to breathe, lip trembling, “If you want to stay away from that drama, I’ll understand, but please…please don’t stay away from me.”

Your eyes widened, hearing his plea, and your heart was beating so loud you feared it’d burst out of your chest. Your gaze searched his, and all you saw was honesty and…fear.

For the first time ever, you recognized the look on his face.

He was scared of losing you.

He had flown all the way here just to say this to you, and despite how horrible everything seemed…he was here with you. Your heart was shaking, unable to comprehend this side of Hyunjin, and you found yourself saying, “Tell me about the Christmas lights.”

His eyes lit up, “They… they’re beautiful. They cover the whole city with them, it looks like a dream and…you have to see it. If not for long, at least stay till then, and…you can make your decision after that.”

Your eyes flickered over his form, and the desperation in his face that made your heart beat faster than it had in a while, “Okay.”

He let out a breath like he couldn’t believe your words, “Okay?”

“The lights better be worth it, Hyunjin.” You spoke, and he laughed, at your words in slight disbelief and relief. You felt a strange sense of relief too, as he drove you back.

»»————-

Hyunjin was in your apartment again. He helped you bring the suitcases up, and he was breathing heavy as he shut the door. The snow had stopped, but the temperatures had dropped more. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. Your apartment wasn’t much warmer, but it was still a relief to be indoors, after the long night you’d had. You looked at him from across the room, standing in your little kitchen, “Do you…want tea?”

He stood out so much in this little space. He looked at you, “I can make it for us.”

“No, that’s fine…” You declined his offer, turning to your cupboard to bring out the little box of specialty tea you’d procured from a nearby market. In your peripheral, he simply nodded, looking around the living room. You’d unknowingly put as much distance between the two of you. Him being in your space made you so nervous. Earlier, you were in such a rush, but now…he could actually see things for what they were. You’d ripped your art from the walls, but other traces of you were still here. Your little tray of knick-knacks on your coffee table, the fluffy pink blanket on your couch, and the little plants that decorated the space. You hadn’t bothered packing them up, and now you were glad you hadn’t because you wouldn’t want to redecorate all over again. He stood still near the door, taking everything in.

“You can take your coat off.” You realised belatedly. He seemed uncomfortable in it, and it was wet from the snow. He looked at you, “Right. Okay.”

You’d taken yours off, and you stood in your white sweater. He slipped his coat off, and he wore a black turtleneck inside. He seemed so awkward. You were too. You knew that things wouldn’t just go back to normal, you couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. Instead you watched the water in the pot boil, bubbles coming to the surface.

“Have you been to Myeondong yet?” He suddenly asked. You looked at him, stirring the water, “Uh, not yet. What is it?”

“You haven’t? It’s a popular street here. They have a lot of shops, boutiques and food. They have really good street food. I think you’d like it.”

“Do you go often?” You asked, and stopped yourself from suggesting that perhaps he could take you. He replied, “No, it’s…too crowded. I can go but the company doesn’t recommend it.”

You nodded, turning back to the pot, glad you hadn’t asked only to be shut down by him. It was stupid to think otherwise, “Right. You need their permission. Do they know you’re here?”

You heard a soft sigh, and perhaps you’d offended him, “No… I know it doesn’t seem like that but we can still do whatever we want. It’s not like we’re under constant supervision…it just feels like that because they’re not the only ones watching us, we also have to worry about the media, about…anybody with a camera who might see me.”

“I saw Baekhyun at a club once.” You blurted. His eyebrows shot up, “You did?”

“Mmh. He was making out with two girls at the bar, and nobody really seemed to care” You elaborated. He nodded, “Yeah. He’s famous enough to get away with it.”

You bit back a scoff, “Get away with what…? Kissing? You make it sound like a crime, Hyunjin.”

You were clearly more honest with him than you had been in the past, ridiculing all the crazy stupid standards of the industry he was a part of. Since when did people like him let a commercial, capitalist corporation decide how they live their lives? It irked you that Hyunjin gave into it so easily. Why didn’t he challenge it? Why was he just settling for it?

He seemed to have no response to your accusation, and instead said, “I thought you understood why things are the way they are.”

You did understand, at a point. When he kissed you for the first time, he had very kindly explained to you that he couldn’t let this become anything more. Yet it had. The phone he’d given you lay on the countertop, and you eyed it, “It seems like you really thought things through when getting me this phone. So what exactly happened…?”

“My managers found out about you.” He stated. You glanced at him, surprised how he said it so calmly when it had been his biggest fear, “What? How?”

“Yeah, they…overheard me and the boys at a party.” He said. You blinked, “You were talking about me at a party?”

“Be careful, the water’s going to boil over.” He stepped closer. You looked back at the pot, realizing this, and turned the stove off. He continued, “And yes. It was at the album release party. I called you that night”

“Oh” You recalled, and he had been drunk on the phone that night and you had wished to be next to him, “I remember…”

“So, anyway…they found out about you that night. It was my mistake…and they gave me a bunch of documents, and I don’t know I guess I kind of freaked out.” He came to stand opposite you, crossing his arms against his chest. His sweater was so tight on him and his arms bulged when he crossed them. You couldn’t help but notice. It was tucked into his pants, a thick belt holding them up. You leaned against your kitchen counter, facing him, “What kind of documents?”

“A…press release statement, and an NDA.” He cleared his throat, “I guess they thought we were dating.”

“Oh. So is that what happened then? Why you acted the way you did?”

“Some of it. I didn’t want to involve you in any of that legal stuff, and they didn’t believe me when I said we were just friends. Things were spiraling with Chan and the others, not that it’s their fault, but I…I guess cutting you out felt like the easiest choice to make at the moment.”

You looked away from him, a pang resonating in your chest at those words, and bitterness filled you. Maybe it was a mistake calling him here. Maybe he should leave. He noticed the drop in your expression, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It was easy?” Your voice was hollow in the little apartment, heart-shattering at his admittance.

“What?”

You glanced at him, “Cutting me out was easy for you?”

He gulped, staring at you and his eyes burned through you, as his lips parted to say, “No, it was…the hardest thing I ever did.”

For some reason beyond your understanding, you believed him. Everything in you wanted to believe him. It was a genuine response.

“The tea,” You said, realizing you’d forgotten it. You wanted to ask him a lot more about how the past months had been in your absence, but you’d take it slow. This was a lot for one night.

He stood up straighter, “Yeah.”

You turned around, reaching into your cabinet to take out two little mugs. You didn’t have much crockery, you hardly had people over much, and Hyunjin stepped up to help you. “Is everything you own pink?” He asked, taking the little mug from you.

You looked at him, embarrassed, “Just the mugs…”

“And the blanket…” He pointed out, looking at you. A little, teasing smile tugged at his lips. You fought your own smile, “Just drink the tea, okay Hyunjin?”

He nodded, smiling still, and poured the water into yours and his, levelling them the same. He dropped the tea bags in it, and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him, loving the warmth on your hands, “Oh. This is hot.”

He agreed, testing out a sip, “It’s nice. It was freezing outside”

You nodded, “You can sit, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” He shook his head and walked over to your kitchen window, bending down to peer out, “Do you keep it open always?”

“Yeah. I…like the sounds,” You told him, taking another sip, but you ended up burning your tongue, and you sighed, putting your mug away, “I heard you were in Japan. How was it?”

He had his hand out the window now, tracing the melted snowflakes that lay on the ledge, and he spoke, “Tiring, but…beautiful.”

“Kairi told me you were there for an award show?”

He turned to you again, snowflakes disintegrating in his palm, “We were”

“Did you win?”

He laughed, smiling at you, “Yeah. We won…a few. Album of the year.”

“That’s really nice.” You said, warmth blooming in your chest, “You deserved it, I’m sure.”

He laughed again, “You don’t even know who we were up against.”

“Well…” You traced a circle on the kitchen slab, “I don’t, but I heard your album. The day it came out. It was…really nice, Hyunjin.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know you listened to it.” He had a little smile as he spoke. His hair fell into his face, but some of it was tied up behind his head. Him standing with the tea in his hands, in the dim lighting of your kitchen, made him look like a dream.

Your phone buzzed, dragging both your attention to it. Felix was calling.

“Uh, I should take this.” You told him. Hyunjin’s smile fell, giving way to another neutral expression and he just nodded, “I can head out, if you want me to.”

You looked at him. You wanted him to stay but…for what? Things were awkward, and you were so overwhelmed. Plus, it’d probably be a long call explaining to Felix that you’d actually decided to stay, and that you’d only panicked beforehand. You didn’t look forward to that conversation. Hyunjin was ready to go now though, and you wished he would stay. You wished he would once again ask you to stay. All of his passion from earlier had settled into…awkwardness, like he didn’t know what to do with himself after such a heavy confession, after begging you to stay.

You spoke, “You haven’t finished your tea.”

He looked down at his mug, and he’d been drinking extra slow or maybe he’d poured more tea for himself just so he could stay here longer and find an excuse to talk to you, “But…Yongbok…”

Your phone kept buzzing, vibrating on the counter. You didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat, “You should talk to him, he must be worried. I… think it’s best if I go, and I should be back at the dorm before morning. I don’t want to raise any suspicion. When I took the early flight here, I told the company it was because I was sick, so…they’d be expecting me to be at home.”

Your heart deflated, and you agreed, “That makes sense.”

There was such a strange bond. You could be angry at him all you wanted, but he was the only person you could be yourself around. The only one who brought you comfort, just by his mere presence, even if he said nothing. You had no idea what the two of you were right now, but you were warming up to him again, and things could almost be okay if this continued.

“But if you want me to stay here with you tonight, I can.” He added, “I don’t…want you to feel alone, not tonight.”

But what about every other night? You would always feel alone without him. Your eyebrows shot up at his suggestion, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I…I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

He nodded, “You’re right. I should go. That’s probably the right thing to do.”

“Okay.” You swallowed. He put his mug away, unfinished tea, and then approached you, “If you…need something, my number is on that phone. You can call me, anytime. Don’t worry about disturbing me or anything.”

“Yeah. Okay”

He exhaled a breath, “I’ll see you soon, then. Goodnight.”

He was so close to you that you could smell the cologne, and you could smell him. His shampoo, or whatever it was. It smelled so good. You forced a smile at him, “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

He walked to your living room, grabbed his coat, and slipped it on.

You stood where you were, not wanting to be that close again, not trusting yourself with what you might do and regret. He looked at you from the door, “I’m…really sorry about what happened, with…Jieong, again. You don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but…yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s…not your fault.” You told him, the constantly buzzing phone not letting you think straight.

“I know, but…I should have been there for you. I’m sorry about that too, but…call me if you need me, please.”

Your heart was crumbling, not being able to comprehend this. After all these months of sadness, was he really in your life again? None of this felt real. It was like a dream you’d conjured up to stop yourself from being so sad, but he was here, right now in your apartment. He turned the knob, and you blurted, “Wait—”

He looked back at you immediately, eyebrows raising in hope, “Yes?”

You stepped up, eliminating the distance between you, looking up at him, “Do you really mean it?”

His eyes searched yours, “Yeah.”

“You won’t get in trouble? If I contact you? What if…your managers find out about the other phone? Will you have to block me again?”

Hyunjin stared at you, and there was a determination in his eyes that you’d never seen, and a confidence, “They won’t find out.”

“If they do?”

He swallowed, gaze falling to your mouth briefly, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Oh.”

Your phone kept buzzing. He spoke, “You should really take that call. He would be worried.”

“You’re right.”

He glanced at you one last time, before leaving.

You picked up your phone, voice shaky. You told Yongbok you’d decided to stay and when he asked you why, you didn’t know what to say. All your reasoning had blended into a mush of emotions and longing. Hyunjin must have said something really convincing back in the car, but you couldn’t remember what any of it was. You just knew that it had worked. You talked to him for the rest of the night. It was chilly and you should have gotten into bed, but you lingered in the kitchen for hours. It still smelt like him.

»»————-

You were woken up by a ringtone you didn’t recognise. Sitting up in bed, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. This had been happening for the past week. Each morning was compounded by sadness. As soon as you were conscious, you’d remember what happened with Jieong. Today, disorientation overtook the sadness.

A phone was ringing.

The ringtone…was a stupid silly love song that you were obsessed with back in Daejon. You reached for your laptop, pausing a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. You must have fallen asleep watching it, and you couldn’t comprehend what episode you were on now, having missed most of it in your asleep. Grabbing the blanket around your shoulders, you trudged to your living room, and sure enough, your new phone was buzzing. There was only one person who had this number. It was still baffling how Hyunjin bought you a flip fucking phone just so you could talk to him.

hyunjin hey, i just wanted to make sure it was working so i guess this is a test message you yea. its working. hyunjin oh im sorry. did i wake you up? you yup hyunjin sorry…i hope you got enough rest. how did yongbok take it? you he was disappointed. he really wanted me to come home.

hyunjin i can imagine. did he ask why you changed your mind? you why? you want me to tell him that it was because of you? hyunjin it was? you i don’t know hyunjin. im still trying to figure it out. im kind of all over the place. hyunjin i understand

You stared at his texts, and this must have been the millionth time he had said sorry, but did he even know what he was sorry for? So much had happened in his absence, and it seemed like he had no idea what his loss had meant to you. Every conversation still felt like walking on eggshells, you didn’t know what he wanted from you now. Did he still have feelings for you? The night in the Atelier, he had said everything to get you to stay, yet nothing at the same time. All of his words were so carefully constructed for you, and you wish he’d been clear about what he wanted. Your heart was so fucking torn and confused. A part of you was still pushing Hyunjin away, and perhaps your anger was still lingering. But oh, you missed him so much.

He wanted you to see Christmas. You found yourself searching through search engines for pictures of Seoul during that festive time, and it sure looked beautiful and pretty, but it didn’t seem like a big enough deal. He must really love Christmas or something. You glanced over at your suitcases that lay at the edge of your bed, second-guessing everything when your phone began ringing, and you didn’t have the heart to ignore him. You crawled over to where it lay on the nightstand, and put the phone to your ear, listening quietly.

“Hey.” He spoke, a relief in his tone, “You picked up.”

You lied back down, pulling your covers over yourself, “I did.”

“What are you doing right now?” He asked. You stared at your ceiling, “I was watching a show…” You hadn’t been the most responsive tonight or this past few days. You were having trouble figuring out what this new relationship between you and Hyunjin meant. “You…haven’t unpacked?” He asked. You shrugged, “No. I’d prefer having it ready to go if I change my mind.”

There was a pause on the other end, “Right. Well, if you do plan on leaving, I hope you don’t do it in the middle of the night again. It’s not very practical.”

He was joking about it, but for some reason it made you smile, “Yup. I’ll be sure to wait until dawn next time.”

“Back when I was at the academy, I always had my suitcase packed up under my dorm bed, and I hid it there, just in case I needed to leave one night.”

“Why would you need to leave?” You frowned. He chuckled, harshly, “Um, training was hard. I almost quit…a lot of times.”

“Why was it hidden?” You sat up. It felt weird that you’d known him all this time but never known this. He laughed, “I was too nervous to admit I was scared. If I thought of quitting, it would make the other trainees think I was weak. I couldn’t let them see that. That’s the fastest way to be targeted.”

You heart hurt at the thought of a younger Hyunjin being scared, “You never told me that…”

“Yeah, it’s…something I don’t really like to talk about.”

“I’m sorry for making you think about it.” You bit your lip, feeling guilty for reminding you of a worse time. His tone was light to reassure you, “It’s not your fault. I guess seeing you the other night reminded me…of me.”

“Yeah. Why are you up at this time though?” You glanced at your bedside clock. He spoke, “I’m waiting for the guys to get home. They’re coming back from Bangkok tonight, and they have a late flight. I hope you’ve been getting enough sleep though.”

It was a strange feeling, knowing you and him were in the same city, unable to fall asleep. This was a first. You wish you could call him over, and maybe you could help each other fall asleep. Holding him would definitely help all your worries, and you could imagine how warm his body would be to cuddle. Would he even fit in your bed and on your cheap mattress, or would you have to be on top of each other? The thought made your heart squeeze. You were so tired of holding back all these thoughts, you wanted to be able to say them out loud. There was no point keeping these feelings to yourself, but for now, it didn’t seem appropriate for this new friendship you two were discovering. You swallowed your desires, saying, “I have to go to the Atelier this week to withdraw my application.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“What?” Yes. Yes. You wanted him with you all the time.

“I just thought that you might feel anxious, and…I can wait for you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll take you home.”

It was funny how he always knew the right thing to say, pushing all the right buttons that made your dopamine go batshit insane. It was funny that he was perfect for you, yet you still weren’t together.

“But you can’t even be seen in public with me.” You responded, and you hated thinking with your head and not your heart. He was quick to offer a solution, “I’ll…be in my car. It’ll be fine. Nobody will know I’m there.”

You chewed on your lip, considering your options, “You don’t have to go through all of that effort. It just sounds like an inconvenience for you to be there.”

There was silence on the other end, and Hyunjin spoke, “I don’t want you to be around Kim Jieong by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.” The idea of Hyunjin accompanying you sounded tempting, but you couldn’t take responsibility for something like that. You’d caused him enough trouble in his life as is.

»»————-

Later that week, the receptionist of the Atelier was staring at you, a disapproving look on her face, “Are you sure? Once you input this request, you can’t change your mind.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…positive” You spoke, hands flat on the front desk. She frowned, “You’re… positive that you want to withdraw your admission?”

The words sent a pang through your chest, a cruel reminder to your predicament, but you nodded, “Yeah.”

A familiar, comforting voice suddenly rang through the lobby, and you turned to see Jeonghan run up to you, a huge portfolio bag in hand. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so relaxed in his bucket hat and an oversized mint-green cardigan, with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” …Right. He thought you were sick. He thought that’s the reason you hadn’t shown up to any classes. You smiled up at him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, “Yeah. Can you just give me a second? I’ll finish up here.”

“Sure. I'm just waiting for my friend anyway.” He nodded, slinging an arm around you, pulling you close. The receptionist blinked at you, unfazed by Jeonghan’s affectionate arrival, “And you’ve spoke to Mr. Jieong about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure he knows” You spoke, “Spoken to him about what?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you. You bit your lip, glancing up at him, “I… it’s not important”

He frowned, a sassy look on his face, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“I can’t withdraw your admission unless you get your professor's signature" The receptionist said, handing you back your documents.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeonghan laughed. You sighed, stepping away from the front desk and he tagged along, “I’m fucking tripping, right? Or did she just say you’re withdrawing your admission?”

You shrugged, staring at the documents in your hand, “I don’t know, I can’t afford it anymore. I have to talk to Jieong. Do you know where he is?”

“Probably in his office.” He said, “But are you not going to explain what’s going on?”

“I can’t get into it right now. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be by myself.” You asked. He spoke without hesitation, “Of course I’ll come with you.”

You felt a different kind of terror and disappointment when you entered Jieong’s office. Jeonghan was right next to you, holding your hand and he didn’t even know what was happening but you were glad to have his support. Kim Jieong was hunched over his desk, looking through what seemed like portfolios, until he noticed the two of you walk in. He smiled brightly at you as if nothing had ever happened, “What brings the two of you in?”

You stared at him, figuring out what you could possibly say. Jeonghan’s hand was on the small of your back, and he squeezed you lightly as if encouraging you, and he said, “Just accompanying a friend.”

You looked at Jieong, and the way he sat like a king in his chair, and spoke, “I…needed your signature on something.”

“Nate. Do you mind if I speak to Y/N alone?” He asked, sending him a sweet smile. Jeonghan nodded, “Sure, of course.”

You could say nothing as he left you two alone. Jieong took off his glasses, staring at you, “This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“I can’t do the classes anymore” You told him. His eyebrows shot up, “After everything you did to get in, you’re giving up like that? I know it’s hard, but don’t be so temperamental.”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll…still paint” You mumbled. He tilt his head, “For yourself? Where is that going to get you? I just think you’re making a big mistake.”

You swallowed, “So what, I come just back to classes and pretend nothing happened?”

“Well, what did happen, Y/N?” He chuckled, “I came to check in on you. As a concerned adult, I am responsible for my student, and you just ran away. And then you decided to skip classes for some reason. Now you’ve lost the chance for the scholarship, but you can still continue in the program.”

You stared at him, not even realising that of course he’d deny everything. You wondered if you should address it, but maybe now was the only time you could. “You…you said I should convince you.”

He leaned forward on his desk, “By making your greatest painting yet, of course. How…else? You are an artist at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Can you please just sign my document so I can leave?” You spoke, more venom in your tone than you intended. He was pretending it didn’t happen. He frowned, clicking at his pen, “You’ve already paid for the next few months classes. You’re just going to let that go to waste?”

Were you making a big mistake? You were acting too much on emotion. Yet you couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him again, and feeling comfortable. He had ruined this for you.

“You used to be my favourite artist...” You said, almost accusatory. He stood up, the sound of his chair dragging against the wood was loud, “Used to be? Does someone else have your heart now?”

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, Hyunjin must be calling you, and Jieong stepped around his table, walking closer to you. You hated this. You hated looking at him, and feeling this fear and anxiety when you should only feel admiration. “Please. I just need your signature and I’ll be gone. I haven’t said anything to anybody and I’m probably moving back home anyway, so please just do this for me.”

He crossed his arms, talking so nonchalantly as if this were a casual conversation, “No. If I let you withdraw, that’d be wasting your talent and potential.”

“So you want me to stay in the program?”

“That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.” He laughed, “You’re one of my most talented.”

Your head was beginning to hurt, “Then why did you cancel my scholarship…and why are you being like this?”

“I’m not being like anything. I’m just asking you to consider staying in the program. I don't know why you're so insistent on running away.” He stepped closer, and a month ago, his tone would could comforted you but not anymore. You made sure you were near the door so you could leave if you needed to, and you tried to find the least offensive way to say what you felt, “What do you mean? You made me uncomfortable the other night.”

“What did I do? Am I not allowed to check up on my students anymore?” He was acting clueless, and it pissed you off.. You felt insane like you were speaking to a child who couldn’t comprehend anything, “I don’t know…you tried to grab me.”

“No offence, Y/N, but you’re not exactly my type. In case you forgot, I’m a married man.” He held up his hand, showing you his wedding band, “If anything, you’re the one who’s been coming on to me.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem like he believed you, and you didn’t have to justify yourself anyway. You felt frustrated by the way he was addressing this situation, making you feel crazy. “I’ve …never come on to you. That’s…insane. I have a boyfriend. I would be crazy to do that, not to mention how…inappropriate that is. Do you think I’d risk my—”

“You have a boyfriend? What you told me the other night was different.” He tilt his head. You were only going in circles and not going anywhere, as you said, “I try to keep my professional and personal life separate.”

“What’s his name?” He asked, clicking the pen in his hand, the noise driving you mad. You almost ended up saying Hyunjin’s name, until you realised you obviously couldn’t fucking do that. Hyunjin couldn’t be the convenience in this case, you don’t know what Jieong could do with that information, especially if he found out who Hyunjin really was. You swallowed, “Nate. Obviously.”

Jieong’s expression shifted, “I see.”

You weren’t sure if he believed you or not, but you wouldn’t stick around to find out, “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I just need you to give me my documents, so I can leave.”

“I’ll think about it.” He spoke. Your eyes widened, “What?”

“You can come collect them later, in case I change my mind.” He said, returning to his desk and sat down nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to start an argument or make him mad. This was pointless. You left his office, feeling worse than before, informing the receptionist that you couldn’t even fucking resign right now. Everything felt harder than it should be. A hurdle for everything. Getting into this program had been impossible, and it seemed like getting out of it was just as tough.

The phone in your bag kept buzzing, and you stepped into the bathroom, picking up his call, “What?”

“Y/N…” Hyunjin seemed surprised at your tone, “I…was trying to reach you. What happened?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, “Nothing. I’ve had a bad day. Why were you calling me so much?”

“I was going to come to the Academy. Are you still there?”

“You’re what?” Your voice shot up. His voice was calm on the other end, “I can’t let you speak to Jieong alone.”

“Where are you right now? You can’t come. They keep a record of every visitor and… you can in trouble with your company for being here. And I already talked to him so there isn’t any point.” You spoke. It was also frustrating how you wanted Hyunjin to be there for you, but you had to think of his life and his job always first, before yourself. It had always been the case though. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “You were alone with him? Where are you right now?”

“Nate was with me.” You said, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you looked like shit, in a hoodie you had worn for three days straight, “He’s…waiting for me outside.”

“I see…” Hyunjin responded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

You sighed, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Hyunjin. I’m fine. Jieong was absolutely useless though. He didn’t even let me withdraw! He was…being cryptic, and frustrating. I had to tell him Nate’s my boyfriend just to get him off my back.”

Hyunjin’s response was dry, “Oh. Okay.”

“I mean… I was lying.” You were stupidly justifying yourself, and he mumbled, “Yeah. Makes sense…I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but you since I woke up, so I just thought it’d be better if I came over there.”

“You don’t have to leave work for me, Hyunjin." You suddenly felt guilty, "I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I just haven’t been in the best state of mind.”

“I just…want you to know that I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day.”

“Don’t worry about it, it's not your fault or anything.” You mumbled. He said, “I’ve been thinking and…I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll take your mind off things.”

The request excited you, but coming from Hyunjin’s mouth, you couldn’t really believe it, “Somewhere in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“But is that allowed? For you to be seen with me in public?” It was the only question you had. You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. It came out harsher than intended. Allowed as if Hyunjin was a child who needed permission to do anything he desired. He was quiet, and you feared you’d crossed the line, but then he suddenly said, “I…asked my manager for permission.”

At those words, your eyes widened. That was certainly something you hadn’t expected. “And what did you say?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, “I may have lied and told him my cousin was visiting from America and that it was my… responsibility to show them around the city. He obviously can’t stop me from hanging out with family, even if it’s in a crowded place.”

“So…I have to pretend to be your cousin?”

He laughed, “No. God, no. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. You can…be yourself. It’s just gonna be me and you.”

“Really?” You didn’t know what this was. Hyunjin was…definitely opening up to you in a way he hadn’t in months. You had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was only being friendly to make up for his behavior.

“Yeah. Is that okay with you? If it’s just…us?”

Just you and him. You’d craved for him this whole time. He seemed nervous since you hadn’t answered, “Y/N?”

“I’m here,” You said. He must have expected that you hung up. “Oh,” He replied, his tone relieved at hearing your voice.

“So where did you want to take me?”

“You said that you haven’t been to Myeon-dong, and… that’s a crime. I was hoping to show you around.” He added, “But I… don’t know. I would understand if you were still pissed about… what I did, and if you don’t want to go.”

“I’m not pissed…” You thought about his words, “I’m just kind of confused, Hyunjin.”

“About me?”

“No, actually, let’s not discuss this over the phone…things get misinterpreted and… I’m really tired right now,” You mumbled. Hyunjin suddenly wanted to hang out with you again and this was a lot to unpack and shouldn’t be done now. He agreed, “You’re right. I'm sorry again that I couldn’t see you. I really didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that alone. Because I’m here, for you. I know I haven’t been but…yeah.”

When he said stuff like that, your stomach twisted. You’d been trying to maintain a line between you and him, a boundary based on all of the recent events, yet it felt futile. Your voice dropped, “Yeah, thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded, and a part of you already felt lighter at this proposition, “See you then, Hyunjin.”

You stepped out, making your way to the entrance and Nate spotted you. He ran up to you, pulling you into a half-hug, “How’d it go with Jieong? I can’t believe he kicked me out of his office.”

You shrugged, squinting under the sun, “I may have told him you were my boyfriend…”

He laughed, a smirk on his face, “What? Is that your way of asking me out?”

It was kind of nice that he had no idea what was going on. You could still pretend that things were normal. You felt embarrassed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “Jeonghan…no.”

“I know. I know. I’m kidding” He smiled, then took off his bucket hat, placing it on your head to protect you from the sun, “You need to get yourself a pair of sunglasses.”

“Thanks” You smiled. It was nice to be distracted from your disastrous exchange with Jieong. He looked around at all of the art students walking to classes, then back to you, “So are you coming back to class on Monday? You know it sucks without you, right?”

“Really? I take it you guys miss me a lot then.” You smiled. He rolled his eyes, “Of course I do. Honestly, you were my favorite thing about it, especially this last semester. Jieong’s got a stick up his ass for some reason. Anyway, me and Minnie miss you. Well, me more than her. I don’t have anybody to teach me your crazy ass techniques anymore. I mean, you’re the only one who can make me get my hands willingly dirty and paint with them.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “They weren’t crazy. I thought you enjoyed painting with your hands. You’re a dick.”

He grinned, tapping your hat, “Only for you.”

You then noticed the black and gold bags at his feet, “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Unfortunately, nothing for you.” He sighed. “I was shopping for a tuxedo. Actually, now that you're here, I did have a crazy favor to ask you.”

You looked up at him, in anticipation, “Yeah? What’s the favour?”

“My sister, she lives in Busan, I told you, right? Well anyway, she’s getting married next Saturday, which is crazy in itself but…long story short, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m surviving that alone.”

“You want me to be your plus-one?” You asked. He shrugged, “I mean, you already told Jieong you’re my girlfriend…so it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances does it?”

“I mean, I have to think about it. Do I have to dress up fancy and all?” You asked. He nodded, “Yeah, a formal dress preferably, but if anyone can pull that off, it would be you. You being by my side would actually make it bearable. Will you think about it and let me know? If you absolutely can’t go, that’s okay, I’ll take Minnie along, but… I’d…really prefer if it was you. After all, I can’t make out with Minnie when I’m drunk.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s almost like you’re trying to convince me not to go.”

He smiled, “Please let me know about it. I gotta go meet my friend now. I’ll hopefully see you next Saturday?”

Maybe going to a fancy wedding would take your mind off things, and you smiled as he kissed your cheek goodbye, “No promises.”

»»————-

This was the Seoul you’d seen in the movies. It’s as if you’d stepped into a full spread of a magazine that you’d fawn over in your school library as you stared at Myeon-dong street. A seemingly endless alley of shops, food, and anything a person could want for. It was the afternoon, and it seemed to be the busiest time as throngs of people filtered in and out through the streets. Your gaze fell upon families, couples, and teenagers filling the streets still in their school uniforms.

There was a newspaper stand set up next to you, selling magazines and papers of all kinds, it even had some pop merchandise, random objects with pictures of idols on them, ranging from socks to mugs to paper fans. It was bizarre. The lady at the shop smiled at you, “Looking for something in particular?”

“Um, no, I was just looking.” You shook your head. She was dressed really well, and she smiled at you, “What’s your favorite group, sweetie?”

Your eyes meandered over the merchandise, and for a moment you considered saying the name of Hyunjin’s band but quickly decided against it, “Uh, I don’t listen to…” Just then, a teenage girl and her friend came behind you, filming a vlog of some kind, and the lady asked them the same question, her attention switching in a millisecond away from you, “Looking for something?”

To your surprise, the girl enthusiastically nodded, “Yes, please! Could we get a Hwang Hyunjin and Changbin necklace?”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped away from the stall to hide your reaction. You could see the lady reach into her supplies, pulling out several decorative items, along with t-shirts and necklaces. Hyunjin was on half of them, and a strange sense of pride and wonder filled you. That must be so fucking weird for him, but you suppose it also must be satisfying to be this famous. The teenage girl immediately reached for the Hyunjin necklace, a pendant with his name carved out in silver, and it was actually pretty, and not tacky, and a part of you wanted to get one for yourself but he’d think you were crazy if you did. She immediately put it around her neck, a big smile on her face. You stepped away, a strange jealousy building in your stomach.

It was almost the time he said he’d meet you here, so you walked to the junction, hands pushed into your deep coat pockets, looking around for the familiar face.

In the midst of the crowd, he was waiting for you.

He stood tall in a suede trench coat, a turtleneck, and a bag slung around him. He wore a black mask, obscuring his face from the onlookers, but people were still looking at him. Of course they were. He didn’t need to show his face to be the most beautiful man in the room.

He was looking around too, and you waited for him to notice you. Would you stand out to him too, like he did to you? Could he pick you out of a crowd of hundreds?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, wondering if he would call and ask where you were. But then he noticed you. Even in this distance, you saw his eyes light up in recognition, and immediately, he stepped ahead, pushing through the moving crowd to get to you. You waited where you were, as he got closer and closer. Your heart pound to a different beat now. You had no idea what today would be about or what any of this meant to him, and one of the reasons you’d agreed to meet was to find out. He finally approached you, and his eyes crinkled as you imagined the hidden smile under his mask, “You’re here…”

You nodded, looking up at him, “Have you been waiting long?”

He shook his head, voice muffled, “No, don’t worry about it.”

You wish you could see him without the mask, but too many people here could recognise him. “There’s a couple of places I wanna show you.” He said, gesturing you to move. You walked next to him, and the tight space pushed you two together, arms brushing mistakenly. You looked around, “There’s a lot of people here”

“Mmh. It’s one of the busiest times of the day.”

“Why did you pick this time then?” You glanced up at him. He looked at you, “Well…Right now, we can just blend into the crowd. If there’s less people, we’re more likely to be noticed, and draw attention.”

So he had thought of that, and he was right. You weren’t really looking at other people because there were just far too many to keep track of, so they likely wouldn’t be looking at you too. To them, you just seemed like a normal couple on a day out. Your arms brushed against each other the whole time, and his hand hovered over your back. You kept sneaking glances at him, and it was harder because you were moving so fast, and he was taller and there was only so much of him you could see. Every time there was a change in the crowd, he’d quickly switch sides, grabbing your arm to keep you close. When you looked at him, his eyes crinkled as he tried to justify, “Just making sure I don’t lose you.”

The words sent a flutter through you, and you asked him, trying to be heard over the cacophony of sounds, “Did you know shops here sell merchandise with you?”

He looked back at you, distracted. He was seemingly too focused on finding his way through the crowd, “Um, yes, I’ve seen a few. Wait… this place has the best fried chicken, you need to try it. If we come later in the evening, there will be a really long wait for it. Changbin once made me wait two hours for it.”

“Oh, wow. Was it worth it?” You asked, stopping at what looked like an inconspicuous stall. He laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I’d do anything for Changbin, so I definitely wasn’t complaining. Anyway, the last time I was here, I could’t help but wonder what you’d think of it.” He then ordered a plate for the two of you, and you watched the vendor prepare it. It already smelled amazing, and you eagerly waited, hands in your pockets, “So do you come here with the guys often?”

He shook his head, “No, we haven’t gone out in a while. We’ve been so busy with promotions….and the album, haven’t really found time to relax.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds stressful. Do you not get any vacations?”

The vendor had finished preparing the chicken and was now seasoning it, sprinkling all kinds of spices over it. Hyunjin shrugged, “I think I used up my lifetime of vacations in Daejon.”

“Right.” You recalled all of his months there, “I hope you still got paid for it.”

He shook his head, face buried in the front of his coat, “It was still worth it though. I got to meet you.”

You blinked, wondering how and why he said such soul-changing stuff so casually. Like at a fucking chicken stall on the sidewalk. How did these things come so easily to him, but love so difficulty? You shrugged, “Right. I guess that’s why you didn’t need me anymore when you came back home.”

It was a joke, obviously, but Hyunjin’s eyebrows crinkled, “Y/N…”

“Oh, look, our food is ready.” You changed the topic, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing it up, and not wanting this to be awkward. He didn’t protest at your lack of subtlety, “Yeah. Come on, we can go into this alley so we’re not in everyone’s way.”

You followed him into a nearby alleyway. It was less crowded, so Hyunjin seemed more at ease at not being recognized yet you could see he was still a bit on edge as he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with any passerby. He leaned against a brick wall, and you stood opposite him, savoring some of the chicken. He asked you, “You like it?”

To be honest, you couldn’t even process what you were eating. It was kind of hard to focus on other things when he was here, and this could have been the best chicken in the world but your internal monologue ran on a loop of Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. It was annoying, and you wish you could focus on the environment you were in, on the other people around you, on the street food. But you nodded, your crazy urge to be a people-pleaser and said, “Yeah, this is so fucking good. Are you gonna have some?”

He shook his head, laughing, “I’m good. I’m just glad you like it.” You hummed, “Thank you for making me try it…”

You hated that the mask obscured his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you anxious. He didn’t say anything for a while as you ate, like he was building up the courage to ask, until he finally did say, “So…how are you feeling, really? And please…don’t just say you’re fine. I want to know how you’re really doing. And how you’ve been the past few months. I’ve been wondering that for a while.”

Your eyes searched his, and that certainly didn’t seem like street side conversation but it was all you had, “That’s a pretty loaded question, Hyunjin, but I guess it’s good to be out of my apartment. Thanks for bringing me out here. I was kind of getting sick of my routine.”

He nodded, “I can imagine. You hate routines.”

You laughed, surprised that he knew that about you even though at this point, he probably knew you better than any human in the world, “Yeah.”

“Did you tell Nate that you’re thinking of withdrawing? I hope he convinced you to not do that.” He asked, hope in his tone. You shook your head, “No, he was in a really good mood, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“He seems like a really good friend, and I know I didn’t really have the chance to talk to him, but he seems cool.”

“Yeah. He definitely helped. Seeing him had definitely put me at ease.” You reached for another piece of fried chicken, “When I was about to go back home, he didn’t really even cross my mind…but I realized, yeah, it would have been unfair to him if I just left without a word. I would definitely miss him. He was…such a big part of my last few months. I wouldn’t have adjusted to living in the city without him.”

Hyunjin was quiet, and then he spoke, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” You laughed, feeling embarrassed at the memory, but Hyunjin was the one who wanted to know all about your life the past few months, “I was so lost when I moved here. Everything seemed so…scary, but he made it easier for me.” Hyunjin was still staring at you so you elaborated, finding the need to explain, “He…made me meet his friends, he took me out to some really cool bars, and going to class was scary but he’s probably the reason I didn’t go back home sooner… now that I think of it.”

“Oh.” He pushed off the wall, choosing to walk along the alley, and you followed him, trying to keep up with his footsteps. Little hair salons and souvenir shops surrounded you. As you walked, you observed how your feet fit in the cobblestones just so you wouldn’t feel so nervous around him as you replayed the last few months in your head, “Yeah. Wow, I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until you asked. I mean…he had no reason to be so nice to me, especially because…this is embarrassing to talk about—”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, looking at you. It felt weird to think of all those months, but you were only talking about this because he asked. You’d been crying almost every day, because of…well, him. Everything had seemed so hopeless without him in your life, and now…you had bigger problems. Such as your dreams of a lifetime being absolutely fucked and burnt into the dust. So perhaps you had made your peace with what Hyunjin had done. Nothing could have made him change his mind, and there was…no point crying about it.

You snapped back to reality, realising he was waiting for you to answer and you wonder how honest you should be. Something about how detached he’d been the past few months made it easier for you to open up, “It’s embarrassing because I was really all over the place. I was kind of…depressed? I don’t even know, but…Nate didn’t mind. He was so nice about it.” You then laughed, suddenly remembering the blind date Minnie had set you up on, “Oh, and I had this horrible fucking date, man it was so bad. Some people can be such assholes.”

“You were…depressed?”

You looked up at him, realizing how serious that could sound, “Um, I mean…that’s a big word…I guess.”

“Why…?” He looked at you, confused, eyebrows knitted together in sadness, “You weren’t happy about the apprenticeship?”

The happiness of that could never have compared to the sadness of losing him. You’d really dug yourself into a hole. You wondered how to say this without making it all about him. How could you tell him that he was your favourite thing in the world? You swallowed, “Uh…I…I was kind of lonely, I guess.”

Hyunjin stared at you, something flashing through his eyes, and it looked like…regret, or guilt. You immediately felt bad, gut sinking. He looked away from you, and cleared his throat, blinking, “So…you had a date? With Nate?”

“No, this other guy,” You explained, “A date with Nate would have been a million times better, but no, it was with this total ass. He…just wanted to get into my pants, I guess, and on top of that he also had horrible taste in beer. Nate did rescue me from it.”

“So…then what happened between you and him? At the party, you were…” He trailed off, staring at the ground as he walked, “You guys looked close.”

“I don’t know. We were just…fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. He kissed me, and I guess that’s how it started.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, “He kissed you?”

Why did it even matter right now? You clarified, “Technically, I kissed him…after my terrible date. And he returned it. Then, I guess we just…were casual friends who kissed.”

“Oh…Okay”

“Yeah. You missed a huge chunk of my life.” You chuckled, and you’d finished all the chicken, so he threw the plate away in a trashcan. He then asked, “So…what else did you do in the city ever since you’ve been here?”

“I…uh…not much.”

“What were your favourite moments?” He asked, “You must have had some good ones, right?”

You drifted off, trying to remember the times you’d been happy, and it was weird how you couldn’t think of many, “Well, when I got accepted. I was the happiest then. Then…when Jieong told me that I was talented, and when my paintings got complimented on in class. I was happy when I discovered a thrift store near my house, and…they had the cutest skirt in my size. It looked really cute on me.”

Hyunjin must be smiling, because you could see his eyes crinkle over the mask, “And?”

“And…I was happy when I was with Kairi. We found this cute cafe we would go to. They had these really, really good sandwiches. I was happy when…” You stopped.

“When?”

You looked up at him, pushing your hands in your pockets, “When…I saw you, in the storage closet.”

He was quiet, processing your words, and then he said, “We’re almost here. Come on.”

You thought you’d just been walking aimlessly, but it seemed like Hyunjin had a destination in mind this whole time. There was a brick building hidden between K-marts and department shops. It looked abandoned. “Can we even go in?” You asked. He laughed, “Of course.” There was an incognito entrance, hidden from the public as you stepped in through the doors, “Are you sure? It feels like we’ll get murdered in there, Hyunjin.”

He glanced at you, “That’s a funny way of saying you don’t trust me.”

You shrugged, playing along because it felt nice to pretend that things were normal again, “So, if there was a serial killer in there, you would fight him for me?”

He let out another laugh, looking at you, “I obviously would, and no there isn’t anybody in there, but maybe I should be asking if you would do that for me?”

“Nah, I think I’d sacrifice you so I could get away.” You smiled at him, and he laughed as you entered a fancy corridor. There was a huge map on the wall with different levels marked on it, and far too much detail than you’d expect. You still had no idea where you were. You tried to read it but Hyunjin walked ahead, and you caught up to him asking, “So…where are we?”

“It’s this…really cool concept store, for mainly streetwear. It’s one of a kind, all their clothes are inspired from the 90s and the coolest part is nobody really knows who the designer is. People speculate and such, but it’s anonymous and because their identity is hidden from the world, they can pretty much get away with anything, controversial designs and stuff. Ever since my stylist told me about, I knew I had to bring you here. It’s like…if Banksy made fashion, you know?”

The thoughtfulness of that didn’t miss you. He’d been thinking of you for a while, it seemed, and it looked like he was right. The first room you stepped in was already breathtaking. Cool technology surrounded the open floor plan, a suspended spaceship hung from the center, and clothes of vivid colors were displayed on racks amongst art installations and paintings. It seemed more like a museum than a fashion store. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” You spoke, taking in all the futuristic displays, “How much are these clothes even worth?”

Hyunjin laughed, “Just the same as any other high-fashion store.”

“So… insanely expensive,” You mumbled, running your hand through the variety of jackets hung up. They were the coolest designs you’d seen, and the precision that must have gone into designing them was obvious. Each had something that made it unique: different fabric patches, pockets of uncanny shapes, and neon colors that you couldn’t imagine pulling off. But in Seoul, there was an outfit for everybody, and these definitely weren’t for you. Each of them felt expensive to the touch, and you probably shouldn’t be touching them like so.

“I wore something like this for a stage performance last month, and I was so stressed about ruining the sequins the entire time. Do you like any?” Hyunjin asked you, browsing through them too. You laughed, “Um yes, I love them, but I shouldn’t.”

“This one is really cool,” He spoke, eyeing a purple jacket, with lavendar fur on the neckline and sleeve loops. It looked like something aristocrats or royals would wear in Buckingham palace or something, so you laughed when Hyunjin asked, “Do you want to try it on?”

“If I get a speck of dirt on it, would I have to sell my soul?” You raised an eyebrow. Hyunjin scoffed, “You’re allowed to try them on. Come on. There’s a mirror somewhere here.” He grabbed the jacket off the shelf so casually, walking through the maze of displays until you reached a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. He held the jacket up to you, and you couldn’t take this seriously, “That is so not me. It would look good on like Gigi Hadid or something.”

He rolled his eyes, “Just try it on.”

“Sure. I’ll humour you this once, but after this, I get to pick something ridiculous for you to wear.” You took off your winter coat. Hyunjin grabbed it for you, and you slipped on the purple jacket. Immediately, it felt like you were wearing millions of dollars, rich and thick fabric. It hugged your body perfectly. You turned to the mirror, running your hands over the fur, it was so soft. Wearing this would definitely make anybody feel confident.

Hyunjin hadn't said anything yet. Your eyes darted to his, and he was staring at your reflection. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, but you couldn’t see the rest of his face and that bothered you. You held your arms up, turning to the side to observe it, “It’s like a work of art.”

“Yeah. You make it look like one.” Hyunjin spoke. You glanced at him, feeling shy suddenly. He was so observant, so fixated on you.

“Well. Anyway. It’s my turn.” You walked to another section of the store. Hyunjin followed you through all the abstract installations. There must be a narrative behind it, but you were just happy appreciating the visuals. Silver water fountains, clothing displays that moved on their own... everything about this place screamed future. It was inspiring just to be in here. Hyunjin was sifting through a rack of streetwear. A sunglasses case rest next to it, and you stared at them, grabbing a design off the rack.

“You should try this,” You told him, offering him the glasses. His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Really? You don’t think they’re tacky? The gold borders?”

“I think they’d look good on you” You mumbled, but kept them back based on his reaction, “But fine, you don’t have to try them if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll try them, Jesus” He interrupted you with a laugh and put them on. There were mirrors everywhere and he looked at himself. You wonder if he fell in love with himself too each time he saw his reflection. He pushed his hair back, a smirk playing at his lips, “Huh. I actually kind of like that. Makes me feel like a rockstar.”

He sparkled under the store lights. You’d only wanted him to wear it as a joke, but he actually made them look so good. He looked expensive, and... so out of your league. He was absolutely beautiful, and you mumbled, “You are kind of a rockstar. You should get them.”

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as if it was even a question. Those glasses seemed to be made for his perfect face. He pulled them off, observing the frame, “You think?”

You just nodded, not trusting what you might blurt. Probably something embarrassing along the lines of how hot he made them look, even though they were just fucking glasses, but him in them was doing something unnatural to your body.

“I can’t remember the last time I bought something for myself” He stated, pushing the glasses up over his head. You leaned against the mirror, looking up at him, “Is it because you always have to wear sponsorships and stuff?”

He nodded, “Yeah. It’s easier in a way because I don’t have to pick out much of my clothes.”

“That’s such a first-world, rich person problem, Hyunjin. I can’t believe you just said that.” You rolled your eyes. He laughed, “Hey, I’m just being honest with you, sorry.”

“You’re pretty lucky. I wish someone would buy my clothes for me” You sighed, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stylist, and a make-up artist, and a personal shopper and a manager—”

“Stop” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting you, “I think what you pick out for yourself is pretty fantastic.”

“Yeah, I know it is.” You smiled, “So, is there any other cool stuff in this store?”

He nodded, stepping back from the mirror, and his hand fell to your lower back again as he guided you, “Yup. There’s a cafe. That’s where I was initially going to take you until you got distracted by all the jackets.”

The cafe was a beautiful rooftop establishment, looking out at the views of Seoul. You had to hold back your gasp when you walked in. There were hardly any people in, just a few men that looked like CEOs seated at far tables. Your eyes fell to the menu that hung over the counter, where every bakery item was easily more than 30,000 won. Everything was so expensive, and probably explained why this place wasn’t buzzing with people. Not everyone could afford this taste. “You should try the Pain au Chocolat. It’s one of the best in the city.” Hyunjin nudged you. You looked at him, “That statement indicates that you’ve somehow tried all the chocolate croissants in the city.”

He laughed, “Not nearly. I come here with Changbin and Jisung often though. A few weeks ago, I tried it and I just…kept imagining how much you’d like it.”

You looked back at the menu, feeling giddy at the thought of being on his mind so often, in your absence. You stepped up to the counter, ordering two coffees and croissants. You’d come all this way after all.

“Hey, I got this.” Hyunjin said, stopping you before you could pay. But if he paid for your coffee, it would increasingly make this feel more like a date, which this wasn’t. You couldn’t make yourself feel delusional by thinking it was.

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismissed him, handing your card to the cashier. He frowned, clearly not happy with the outcome, but you wouldn’t let him buy it for you. The cashier also seemed expensively dressed, with good taste, and she input your order and then said, “Unfortunately ma’am, you can’t wear the store merchandise around.”

You realised you were still wearing the lavendar fur jacket, loving the feel of it on you just like Hyunjin had loved it on you. Gosh, you wish you could never take it off just to see the look in his eyes again. Except you weren’t just playing dress-up. This was probably worth hundreds of thousands. You felt so embarrassed, and you immediately reached to unbutton it, “Shit. I’m so sorry…I can go put it back now.”

Were they going to charge you a lot for this mistake?

“Oh. It’s not merchandise, ma’am. We’re taking it home.” Hyunjin interrupted, and then looked at you, “You can keep it on.”

The cashier just smiled, “Oh, of course. My mistake then. Your order will be out in a few minutes. Have a nice day!”

You gaped at Hyunjin, “What?”

He laughed, tugging your arm to pull you away from the counter.

“Are you insane?”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Y/N” He joked, leading you to a table in the corner. He sat down, comfortably stretching his legs. You were still processing it, “This cost a fortune, you can’t just do that on a whim. I’m not okay with that.”

He sighed, gesturing at you to sit opposite him, “Come on. It’s not a big deal”

You crossed your arms, “Is this a way to get back at me because I paid for our coffees?”

He laughed, “Only you’d think someone’s getting back at you if they buy you a gift.”

You frowned, sitting down, “Well, I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something. This is far too expensive and I did nothing to earn that”

“Hey. You don’t owe me anything” He leaned forward, “I wanted to buy that for you. You can’t stop me.”

“Why?”

“Because…you look beautiful in it. It’d be a shame for anybody else in the world to wear it, and…” He looked embarrassed, “Because I saw that a few weeks ago and imagined it on you."

His compliment made your heart jump, and you wish you weren't so weak and crumbling over a boy of all things, but you didn’t want to feel ungrateful, “Oh….Thank you…Hyun.”

“So… you’re not mad at me then? You haven't called me that in a while.” He laughed. Your voice fell, touching the expensive material of the jacket, “No…I really love it. It’s beautiful.”

His smile grew, eyes crinkling, “I know. You look great in it.”

You eyed his mask, and that certainly could't be comfortable and you felt brave enough to finally say, “Are you going to wear that thing all day? I can’t even see you...but I guess I understand if you need to.”

He looked around the cafe. He must have deemed it safe, because there weren’t many people on this floor, so he reached up, slipping his mask out finally. And god, he looked so fucking perfect under it. His nose was red from the cold. His lips were just as plush as you remembered, and they curled up into a beautiful smile for you, “Is that better for you?”

“I hate that you have to hide yourself.”

His eyes widened just a tad, and perhaps he hadn’t expected you to be so candid, but you just nodded, “Don’t make a big deal out of it or something. Everybody in this country is in love with your face.”

The waitress then brought a tray of your coffees, and croissants, placing them between you. The view of Seoul from here was beautiful. Your heart soared, watching the sun fall on him, and he slipped on his brand-new sunglasses. They really did make him look like a rockstar, with the reflection of the glass buildings in them. He pushed his hair back, but it was a useless gesture because the strands fell back into place, bangs covering his forehead, and his hair had grown out much more. You looked around at the few businessmen in the cafe and asked, “So your managers really don’t mind that you’re out with a girl…on a random weekday?”

He nodded, cutting into the croissant with his knife, “Yeah of course. They don’t have to know.”

You sipped your coffee and then realized what he’d said, “Wait, what? They don’t know you’re here?”

Hyunjin glanced up at you, mid-bite into the croissant, chocolate creaming his lips, “What?”

“You told me you asked him for permission, so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” You stated. Realization sank into his features, and he nodded, “Um, yeah. I did”

Clearly, he was lying…and the fact that Hyunjin lied to his company about today put you on edge. He clearly noticed that. A sigh left his mouth, “Please don’t worry about it, Y/N…I thought everything through. I wanted you to have a good day.”

You couldn’t understand. A few months ago, Hyunjin let go of everything just so it wouldn’t risk his job, and now he was willingly doing this? What changed? Was it that he noticed your desperation to leave and thought he was at fault? Was he doing this all out of guilt, because he asked you to stay? You wouldn’t get any answers out of him right now, so you just decided to enjoy the chocolate croissant.

“I am having a good day, don’t worry.” You remembered, “By the way I saw some shops out front. They had a lot of merchandise with familiar faces on them…”

“Oh no. What did you see?” He laughed, covering his face in his hands. He was so cute. You smiled, trying not to get distracted by how adorable he looked, “It was cool but I just… couldn’t wrap my head around it. How does it feel having your face literally everywhere?”

He took a long sip of his cappuccino, “Well…it takes some getting used to, but after a point you do.”

“I don’t think I could get used to my face being plastered everywhere, and people having it in their homes and stuff? It makes me anxious just thinking about it” You shuddered at just the thought, “You’re very brave.”

“Well, yeah you’d have your artwork in people’s homes instead.” He shrugged. You looked up at him, surprised, “That’s so far in the future, I can’t comprehend that”

“Maybe I could be your first buyer” He leaned back in his chair, “Would youu sell me one of your paintings for…a half a million won?”

“If you spend that much money on my shitty paintings, people would definitely think you’re sleeping with the artist.” You mumbled. He lift the mug to his mouth, eyes on yours over the rim, as he drank, “I suppose.”

If you could record your heartbeat in the moment, it’d cross inhumane levels surely. You stared at him, fighting the urge to smile, “Unfortunately, you’re fresh out of luck. All my paintings are in the trash as of last week…including the one I was actually proud of…the one I was working on for the prize.”

He grimaced, “Can I ask you what that painting was about?”

“Um. It was just based off this scientific theory… it’s silly.” You felt shy explaining the concept — it was completely inspired by the things Hyunjin had told you in the comfort of the night skies of Daejon. He frowned, putting away his food, “Tell me”

“I remember you telling me that there weren’t any stars in the city, and I was wondering…what would happen if there weren’t any for real. At all. In the world.”

He seemed intrigued, “And what did you find?”

“Just a bunch of theories, but… it’d make the universe a pretty bleak place. Most life would cease to exist…and I was trying to paint the ruins of the universe, or what would be left when everything was gone. I was trying out this new watercolour technique, for it to be abstract enough that it was up for interpretation but also concrete enough that…people felt despair when they looked at it.”

“That’s…depressing.” He blinked. You laughed, “I guess. You inspired me, I suppose.”

“Well, it seems like that painting would have been really beautiful. I’m sorry you lost it, but…I don’t understand why you threw the others away. I thought…you liked keeping all your old paintings, and holding onto those memories…”

For some reason you found yourself being so truthful with him, digging deep into your psyche to how you felt, “Man, I don’t know…everything in my life kind of feels stupid and meaningless right now. I wasted years of my life trying to get into that apprenticeship, only to basically be kicked out one semester in… it’s funny. And now I’m sitting in my apartment in my dream city with nothing to do. I guess holding onto things just feels stupid now. There’s no point. I don’t even feel like painting anymore.”

“You… shouldn’t feel that way, Y/N.” He suddenly sounded so sad, looking at you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad anymore, you’d already lost everything. You shrugged, “It’s fine honestly… I’m sure I’ll eventually find some new dream to die over. I’m obsessive like that. I know there’s something out there…that’s meant for me. Probably.” The conversation seemed to have changed the mind though so you apologised, “Sorry for killing the mood.”

“You didn’t.” He responded instantly, and there was a deep emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place. You’d seen glimpses of it before, in moments when he’d kissed you, when you’d talk to him back in Daejon, but you’d never seen it like this. It was ever-present now, and prominent, like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Your eyes traveled over his face, and he was gazing at you in a way that made you want to curl up into yourself. It was too much.

You bit into the croissant, aware of the messy chocolate on your lips, and glanced in the window hoping to catch a bit of your reflection. You wanted to make sure you looked fine, especially sitting across someone who looked perfect, croissant crumbs on his lips. No wonder his face was in every shop here. You were seriously sitting across Hyunjin on a rooftop cafe in Seoul, for real. It felt like a dream. This wasn’t a date. Yet everything about it felt like one. It was hard to wrap your head around this reality. Hyunjin was draped in sunset light and casually sipped his coffee, looking at you like that — like he was simultaneously trying to figure you out, and like you also held all the answers to the universe.The sky was a beautiful hue of pink and orange, casting a bright glow over the entire top floor. He looked out the window, and you observed him, and then he swiftly reached into his little book bag, taking out a camera. He must want to capture the beauty of the sunset, but instead he surprised you, “Can I please take a picture of you?”

You stiffened up, “Right now..?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, pushing his sunglasses up so he could look through the camera viewfinder. You glanced at your reflection again, and you looked fine but your lipgloss was smudged. You felt conscious, “Do you mind if I fix my lip—”

“No” He immediately interrupted, sitting up, “I mean… Don’t fix it, please. I like it the way it is.”

You frowned, “But it’s all messy…”

“I know.”

His gaze pierced yours, sending shivers down your spine. And hell, you were supposed to be mad at him for a million things but you don’t think anybody had ever made you feel this beautiful before and he hadn’t even said anything. It was just the way he looked at you, the depth of his gaze, the intensity in his expression and his eagerness to capture you like this.

“Oh…okay” You nodded, and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. He lift the camera up, snapping a few and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wish you were capturing the way Hyunjin looked at you instead. You could be a hundred years old and never get tired of that expression. His smile had given way to concentration, and he continued taking pictures of you. You wonder if you would ever get used to how he made you feel.

You think all of this had to mean something. You weren’t stupid. He’d been flirting with you the entire day, and you hadn’t stopped him, or questioned it. After all, his way of talking didn’t feel like anything new. It was just how he used to be with you. Every compliment spoken so… easily and tenderly. After being away from his adoration for months, it felt like being plunged into an ice-cold bath. He had no qualms about being too direct or straightforward. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. Had he finally given up on the charade of not wanting you in his life? Because right now, you were very much in his life. He put the camera down as if he’d heard your private thoughts, “Thank you for today. I was worried before that I had somehow ruined everything…” He paused, as if he was struggling with his thoughts, “With you. I know I dug myself into that hole…but…it feels good to be here with you. Feels like nothing changed since summer.”

Your heart constricted at those words, making you feel uneasy, but you smiled, because he seemed so happy in the moment. Except you didn’t want it to be like summer anymore though. Summer was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. You desired and wanted more. You needed more of him with you, on you, in you, and now…after everything that had happened, after today, you somehow felt brave enough to not shy away from it.

»»————-

Your little evening with Hyunjin had already ruined you. You’d been home for just a few hours, and you’d already started reliving the events in your mind. You hadn’t even taken off the jacket he bought you, even though it would get crumpled the longer you wore it. You tried to distract yourself by cooking dinner so the scent of food could fill your apartment instead, but it still couldn’t rival the lingering fragrance of his cologne that clung to the jacket draped over your chair.

Only an hour had passed and you gave up trying to distract yourself and sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him, and you should probably try to protect your heart. You knew you should probably take off this jacket that cost hundreds. You’d worked so hard to try to move on but now that he was fighting to be in your life, it was like all your efforts had been for nothing. You ended up pulling up his videos, watching all of his performances from years and years ago, seeing the way he grew over time into the performer he was. All of the comments were in love with him. Millions, just like you, watching him in their bedrooms. You knew for sure, that you couldn’t let things go back to what they were: just fleeting moments of passion, and waiting on the edge of your seat for the next kiss. You knew now, that you needed something real from him. You’d changed and pretending that your feelings hadn’t deepened in his absence would only be a useless task.

»»————-

There was a voicemail in your inbox from Kairi. It had been a few days since you’d gone out with Hyunjin, and he’d unwittingly inspired you to step the fuck out of your apartment. You’d been walking through the market, browsing the collections of knick-knacks and shops, trying to find something Felix and Minho would really like. You wanted to mail stuff home that reminded you of them. You pressed your phone to your ear, trying to hear Kairi’s voicemail over the noise of the streets. She started out saying, “Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you, but I think you were busy so I just thought I’d leave you a message, and you can get back to me whenever. I know a lot is going on with you, and I haven’t exactly been the best friend I could have. I’m sorry, I guess I was still trying to readjust to having Chris back in my life.”

The electronics store you stepped into was huge, spanning almost five different floors, featuring tech that you hadn’t even heard of. The aisles were full of inventions and gadgets that Daejon could only even dream of. Kairi’s voicemail continued, “So what I was getting at is that there’s a…dinner party at my apartment. It’s…sort of an annual thing, I do it every year. My parents used to host them, but I've been doing them ever since they moved out. It’s fancy for no reason at all, but I love doing it because it’s a tradition? It’s not a lot of people, usually just me, the boys, and some of Chan’s friends. I’m going to make a six-course meal, and that sounds crazy. I guess it is, but I like doing it. Anyway, I guess this is just a long-winded way of me saying that…I would really like if you were there.”

You stopped in the middle of the aisle, listening to her continue, “I know that probably sounds like a lot for you, and… I’ve had these parties each year and I never really invite anybody, because it’s just…a really small gathering. The boys have been overworked too, so this would be perfect for them. I completely understand if you don’t want to come, but please consider it. I really want you there, and…you can bring Nate. I know that might put you at ease. Just think about it and let me know.”

Despite how warm her invitation made you feel, it was this Saturday. The same night you were going out with Nate. You had already long promised him you’d be his plus-one to the wedding reception. He was your friend and you couldn’t bail on him, no matter how much you craved to see Hyunjin and Kairi, and the others. Meeting him would just have to wait.

»»————-

Jeonghan’s arm fit perfectly on your waist, and he was all smiles as he introduced you to the rest of his family. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about tonight at all. His presence brought you ease. You’d bought a new dress, the color of cherries, a bow decorating the back, hoping it would match the vibe of everybody else at the reception. It made you feel confident enough to tackle tonight. It was a cold night, and the dress fell to your thighs, but nobody else seemed to care about the weather as they danced in strappy tops, and short skirts. Jeonghan, on the other hand, made you feel confident too. He’d proudly introduced you to everyone, and for a while there, it almost felt like you were going out together. He leaned into your ear, breath warm on your neck, “So, how are we feeling?”

You spoke through a smile, watching the guests on the dance floor, “Well. I’ve certainly never been to a wedding reception this fancy…people here really spend money on everything.”

He shook his head, “Nope. They just like to show that they can.” You glanced at him, “You know you are talking about your own family, right?” You had known Jeonghan was well-off, but truthfully, you never knew he was this wealthy. The wedding reception had been grand, and ice sculptures decorated each table setting. It was all a bit much, you could appreciate the grandeur though. He rolled his eyes, “Mum and dad have been planning this day their whole lives. I’m surprised they didn’t fly us all out to an island in the Bahamas.”

“Well, I would’ve loved to be your plus-one for that.” You laughed. He shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe for my wedding."

It was a beautiful location anyway, even if it wasn’t the Bahamas. An outdoor garden setting, hundreds of twinkling lights lit up the trees, and a dance floor where all the guests were letting loose, clearly very tipsy. You looked up at the canopy of trees, which were decorated with lush wildflowers, “Those alone must have cost you millions of won.”

“Much like your company tonight” He mumbled. You laughed, looking at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

He turned to face you, both hands grabbing you by the waist, “You know I really thought you’d ditch me tonight. Don’t you have your friend’s dinner party tonight?”

“Well…you asked me first. I made you a promise. I happen to be a good friend.”

Jeonghan smiled prettily, and he looked handsome today in the tuxedo, his hair swept back. He pulled you closer, hands on your bare back, “Thank you. Tonight would have sucked without you.”

“It’s your sister’s wedding. That’s not very nice to say” You frowned, teasing him. He chuckled, “Precisely. It’s her wedding, and I had no say on the guest list. You’re the only one I picked to be here tonight.”

You smiled, uncaring of the fact that you were in a very public space with almost all his relatives watching your intimate exchange, “I’m honored to be there for you.”

His eyes drifted over you, cheeks darkening, “You really do look pretty tonight. The other guy is definitely missing out.”

You rolled your eyes, the mention of Hyunjin stinging you a little bit, but all the wine you’d consumed tonight made it more bearable.

“Nate, honey, can you come here a second?” An older woman interrupted, stepping over to you. One of the guests, who he’d introduced to you as his aunt, smiled at the two of you, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need your help with something, sweetie.”

Unwillingly, Jeonghan let go of you, fingers brushing the bow on your back as he did. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” He spoke. You laughed, “Don’t worry. Take your time.”

He leaned in, pressing a cheek to your kiss before following his aunt through the crowd. You smiled as he left whilst complaining about whatever task she put him up to. Being here with Jeonghan felt intimate, but it was never uncomfortable. You felt relaxed around him and his family, and he never pushed your boundaries. The reception had also been beautiful, and even though you didn’t know the wedding couple, the hopeless romantic in you craved for the kind of love they held. They’d been high school sweethearts, and the idea of that itself felt crazy to you. How must it feel to be so sure of your choice, and to have been in love for so long? You held your purse tightly, watching the couples on the dance floor. It was sweet. It was only ten minutes until Jeonghan was running back to you, “I’m sorry that took me so long. She wanted me to take pictures of her. Again!”

You laughed, “She must think you’re a real good photographer.” He rolled his eyes, “She just wants a new Facebook profile picture. I think I need more tequila.”

“That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” You mumbled. He tugged at your hand, pulling you to the open bar, “Just one more wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave in since this was his party after all and you were only a guest, letting him lead you as he ordered you both a round of shots. He leaned against the bar, rolling his sleeves up and admittedly that made him look hot. You glanced at your phone, noticing a few messages from Kairi. You don’t know why you expected a text from Hyunjin, but in your hurry, you’d stupidly left your other phone at home. The one he bought you, where he’d text and call you. After all, keeping track of two phones was hard.

After a quick round of shots, you settled on the bar stools, watching all his drunk relatives, laughing about the stories he told you about them. The hours passed, and you were both tipsy, sitting so close at the bar. You could have easily kissed him. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. It’s like Jeonghan knew that too. He was holding your face, thumb brushing against your mouth as he mumbled in a drunk-haze, “You know what I think?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you should really get to that dinner, Y/N. I’ll be fine here.”

“I can’t leave you alone. I promised you.” You spoke. He laughed, “And I’m glad you came, but…wouldn’t your friend feel bad if you don’t show up?”

“She knows I have…prior obligations. They wouldn’t miss me.” You frowned, and suddenly the anxiety was back in your stomach. You were a little tired, and the thought of showing up at the dinner, where Hyunjin would definitely be, paralyzed you. Yet you also told Kairi you’d try your best to make it, even if only for a little while to grab dessert and you had to be a good friend to her too. Jeonghan nodded, “Just show up for her. I’m sure she would want you there. Plus, you look…really hot tonight. It’d be a waste to only wear that dress in front of my traditional old relatives. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

He was right. The formalities of the reception was over and now it was probably just going to be a never-ending party until dawn. It would be nice to see Kairi and the others tonight, even if you weren’t mentally prepared for it at all. You hadn’t thought you’d get a chance to get there at all. You cracked a smile at his consideration, looking up at him, “I guess I should get going now, if I want to make it in time for dessert. Only because you’re forcing me.”

Jeonghan nodded, helping you jump off the bar stool, and you looked back at the reception party. Everybody was having so much fun, you wish you could stay the entire night. You let Jeonghan lead you to the street, where the taxi waited for you. He thanked you for showing up and kissed you a short goodbye. When you sat in the taxi, you sent Kairi a simple text that you were on your way, and you hope that you were still welcome there.

»»————-

Of course things weren't going to go your way. The cab driver dropped you off on the wrong street, and after a long struggle in your kitten-heels you finally made it to Kairi’s doorstep. The cold had definitely sobered you up a bit, bringing back your nervousness about being here, but Kairi had clearly felt comfortable enough to have you over so you’d suck it up. Her place was inside a lavish apartment complex, and you rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently. Your stomach was already twisting at the prospect of meeting everyone, and at seeing him again. It was Chan who answered the door, and for a second it felt like you had no idea what to say, until he grinned, “You’re here!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a half-hug, on his doorstep. You were taken aback, definitely not expecting the physical contact. After all this was only your second time meeting him, but you bought your arm up, hugging him back briefly. His hair was curly, and he smelled nice. It was all you registered before he stepped back, inviting you in.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at a wedding…” You began to explain, and he shook his head, curls bouncing, “Don’t apologise! Kairi told me you had plans already so no hard feelings. We’re just glad you could make it in time…let me take your coat.”

He grabbed it from you, hooking it on a coat hanger as you looked around. It was a decently sized place, far bigger than your apartment. A set of stairs led to another floor. Dinner must have been really good, because you could still smell the aromas. Chan said, “And…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but sorry for my behaviour the last time we met, at Kairi’s birthday. I was really drunk and emotional, I’m not usually like that.”

“No, you were just really fucking desperate.” Kairi’s voice interrupted, and she ran over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Relief surged through you at seeing her here. She looked beautiful, in a midnight blue corset, and high-waisted black pants to match and you smiled at her, “You look so good. Thank you for having me over. ”

“Me?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “Look at you. You’re all dolled up, like a fairy.”

“I’m really sorry I missed dinner. It smells amazing.” You frowned. She sighed dramatically, “I missed you to death, but I’ll live. This just means we need to do another one of these soon. Come on, everybody’s in there!”

Before you could mentally prepare, she’d pulled you into another room, Chan following behind. You tried to register everything. It was a cosy living room, ambient purple and orange lighting cast over everything. A popular pop song was playing at a low volume in the background. There was a lot of seating, a couch, and a bunch of unique, colourful chairs surrounded the coffee table. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, and maybe that last round of shots had been a bad idea as you tried to register all of their faces. They were all busy in conversation, wine glasses in hand, not having noticed you yet, and you hoped it stayed like so. That way, you could just slip into conversation with no embarrassing announcement of your arrival. This was the first time you’d be meeting the band. There were two other people here that you didn’t recognise. They were both dressed casually, in cargo pants and a white beanie, and you felt a bit overdressed. “They’re some of Chan’s friends, and they work with the band. That’s Hanbin and that’s Sunmi.” Kairi leaned in to whisper. Somebody in the corner was playing the piano, a beautiful low melody, and Kairi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey. She’s here.”

Immediately, he stopped playing. Jisung — the one on the piano — burst into a smile and stood up, “Shit. You’re actually like, here!” He pulled you into a hug, just like Chan had, and they must all be touchy or very drunk. As he stepped back, he continued smiling, extending a hand, “Han Jisung, by the way.”

“We’ve met before…kind of.” You said, meeting his hand with yours. Realisation sank into his face, and all his expressions were exaggerated as he nodded, “Right, right, we have. In the company building when I dropped all your coins at the vending machine…I was an idiot.”

“When are you not?” Somebody joined you, slinging a strong arm around Jisung. You recognized him from the pictures, “Hey, Y/N…You must know who I am, right?” Changbin had a coy smile on his face, dressed in a navy button-up that only he could probably make look this good. You smiled at him, “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

He smiled, gesturing to someone, “I don’t think you’ve met Hanbin.” At those words, the boy you didn’t know stood from the couch, and you regretted pulling them out of their comfortable conversation circle, “Oh, you don’t need to get up for me.”

In the midst of the chaos and onslaught of introductions, your eyes finally found Hyunjin. He was standing by the couch, a drink in his hand, at the far end of the room, laughing about something with a girl — who was probably Sunmi. Your stomach jumped, goosebumps rippling up your entire body. He looked absolutely fucking insane. In a good way, in the best way. His hair was tied up into a low ponytail, but strands of hair fell into his face, framing it perfectly. The purple light cast rhythmic shadows on his face. He stood in a black sweater, and tight denim-wash jeans, one hand tucked into his pocket. He was only standing in a living room, but he could just as easily have been posing for a Vogue photoshoot, by his perfect stance. He hadn’t realized you were here yet, or maybe he was pretending to not notice. You didn’t have time to think about it before Hanbin stepped ahead, blocking him from your view, “Kairi would not stop talking about you the past three hours.”

You flushed, “Oh… I wish I could have been here for the entire dinner. Knowing her, it must have been great.”

“We did save you some.” Chan added. You murmured a thank you, feeling dizzy from all the attention. They were almost all talking over each other, and you were already so overwhelmed. Jisung gestured to you, “Grab a drink and sit with me.”

“No, let her eat first. Baby, you mind heating up the leftovers for Y/N?” Kairi asked Chan. You shook your head, “Please, there’s no need for that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Kairi rolled her eyes, “Girl, you’re my guest of honor.” Chan smiled at you, “You can follow me.”

So, you went with him into the hallway, passing by a doorway. A door was left ajar, a glimpse into a room. It was only half a second, but you saw a wooden bed frame and a sliver of a wall of art, “Is that Kairi’s room?”

Chan shook his head, “It used to be, but she made it into a guest bedroom. Hyunjin mostly sleeps in there now. Come on. The kitchen’s through here.” He said, his strong voice guiding you through the corridor. “Right, sorry,” you said, turning away from the door and following him to the kitchen. The kitchen was big too, and set up beautifully, with marble countertops and a small kitchen island. Chan reached into the sink, rummaging through some dirty dishes, “Sorry. We’ve been meaning to run the dishwasher. Kairi kind of goes crazy at these dinners.”

You leaned against the counter, “That’s fine. No judgement.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, looking over his shoulder at you, “We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise.”

“You have a lot on your plate already, Chan. I completely understand.” You told him, with a smile. He laughed, “You’re sweet. I’m just heating up some of the chicken and fondant potatoes for you. That good?”

“Could I actually have some water? If… that’s okay” You asked. He smiled, “Of course it is. Make yourself at home. There are some clean mugs in the cabinet. You can just grab one and help yourself.” You walked around the island, opening up the cabinet. Mugs of different shapes and sizes were arranged precisely in there, and Kairi’s unique taste was definitely recognisable. A cerulean blue mug made of porcelain rested in the very back. You rather get a mug they sparsely used, so you reached for it, pulling it out. Pushing it under the tap, you began filling it with water. Chan glanced at you and your selection, “Oh. That’s Hyunjin’s favorite.”

You stilled, “Oh. Sorry. Should I pick another?”

Of course it fucking was. Why did you have to pick that one amongst all of them? “No, no, go ahead. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Chan smiled, pushing a button to start the dishwasher and then crossed his arms towards you, “I’ll just go see if the guys need any more drinks.”

“Sure.” You responded, taking a slow sip from the mug, and the knowledge that it was his favourite mug made you feel jittery. Doing all those shots before coming to see Hyunjin had been a terrible idea. You grabbed your water and held it tight, returning to the living room, where you could hear loud laughter from. They were all back in conversation, and Changbin was imitating a silly dance, making Hyunjin laugh. You stood under the archway, watching them. A few seconds went by, and Hyunjin was still laughing, crinkled eyes, and he reached up to tuck his hair back absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw you.

You don’t know what you were expecting. He stilled, eyes widening, trailing off in the middle of his conversation. He really hadn’t known you had arrived. His lips formed a small smile, and that was so fucking attractive, and from across the room, he mouthed, “Hey.”

The tension within you dissipated. You had to fight your smile, feeling lovestruck and lovesick by a smile word. All he said was hi. Then why did your knees already feel weak? Why did it feel like the first time you had seen him, unable to comprehend anything except his absolutely, insane beauty? You shot him a soft smile, mouthing back, “Hey.”

He sidestepped his friends, walking over to you, and you felt shy under his intense gaze. His stance was casual and so confident, and in another universe you could imagine meeting him at a college party like this. “You came.” He spoke, and you tilt your head up to look him in the eyes, “Yeah. I did.”

His eyes fell to the mug in your hands, and you realised there was a lipstick stain on it. Your lipstick stain. On his stuff. You apologised, “Um, sorry, Chan said I can—”

“Don’t worry” He interrupted too quick, eyes flickering over your form, “How are you?”

You’d already decided this was your time to be brave, and you weren’t going to hold back tonight, “I’m okay. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and I—”

“So, what took you so long tonight?” Hanbin asked, stepping up to the two of you. You glanced at him, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you but he was being polite so you spoke, “Oh, I was at a wedding reception. I promised my friend I’d be his date.”

“Ahh. That’s why you’re dressed up so pretty. Was it a good reception?” He asked. You smiled at his compliment, “Yeah. I…had a great time actually. It was definitely a fancy event.”

“Can I see the pictures? Please tell me you took some!” Kairi asked, overhearing the conversation. She was perched on Chan’s lap, and you shot Hyunjin an apologetic smile, you’d just have to speak to him later and you handed your phone over to her, “Yeah, actually I did. Jeonghan is kind of obsessed with taking pictures, so we took a lot.”

She scrolled through your gallery, and Jisung leaned in over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pictures too, “Wow. That shit looks…expensive.Your friend’s loaded.”

You laughed, “I guess his family is pretty rich.”

“He took a lot of pictures of just you.” Kairi teased, scrolling through, “I mean, I don’t blame him. You look like you stepped out of a fairytale.”

“Um. You should have seen the bride.” You laughed. Jisung was still nosily peeking into your phone, “So, who’s Jeonghan?”

“He’s a…friend.” You explained, while Chan handed you a drink. It seemed like one of his famous cocktails Hyunjin had told you about, but nothing could beat the drink he had made you on his last night in Daejon. Despite how much you wanted to try this, you really didn’t want to be drunk tonight, “Um…I shouldn’t. I already drank more than I should have tonight.”

“I mean, objectively, the best thing about weddings is the open bars,” Changbin pointed out. You laughed, “You’re right and Jeonghan used that same excuse to force me through five rounds of tequila.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “You’re fucking kidding me. You must have a high tolerance if you’re so sober after five shots.”

“I think the walk in the cold definitely contributed to that” You joked, and then explained due to his perplexed look, “I must have put in the wrong location because the cab driver dropped me off a few blocks away.”

“In those shoes? I would have given up.” Changbin asked.

“So you took a cab alone?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Your gaze darted to him, surprised he’d spoken up and you hadn’t realised how much you’d insanely missed his delicate voice. You nodded, “Um, yeah.”

“Your… friend sent you here in a cab when you were drunk and by yourself?”

“I mean…yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Nate couldn’t have dropped you here?” He asked. You frowned, “It’s not like I was gonna ask him to bring me here, it was his family’s party.” His eyebrows shot up, “Isn’t he rich? I’m sure he could have figured out a way.”

“These pictures are beautiful,” Kairi spoke, cutting the tension in the room as she handed you your phone back. You were staring at Hyunjin, and at his misplaced concern. Changbin had also clearly picked up on it, because he nudged him in the stomach, “If you were so worried about her, you should have offered to pick her up.”

Hyunjin took a sip of his drink, nonchalant face, “I did.”

Your eyes widened. When did he offer that? You showed your honest surprise, “I… didn’t know.”

The room was quiet, and Jisung chuckled, “Must be the first girl in history to ignore your texts, Jinnie”.

The others laughed, but Hyunjin genuinely looked hurt that you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. In all truth, you never saw that text. If you did, you would have said yes. You’d forgotten the phone he gave you at your bedside table, and you couldn’t be blamed for not being able to keep track of it when so much was going on. You shook your head, “No, I just…had a lot on my mind, I was with Jeonghan the whole day, I must have missed it.”

Your response satisfied the room, but seemed to be the wrong answer for Hyunjin by the slight hurt in his eyes that only you noticed. It sucked because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like that tonight.

“So how do you know Kairi?” Hanbin asked, smiling attentively at you. You couldn’t focus, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t genuinely hurt and spoke, “Oh…it was just a coincidence. I met her in a bar.” Kairi nodded along, “And she offered to give me her jacket! Some fucking loser had thrown his drink on me.”

Hanbin laughed, adjusting his beanie, “I see. I see...So I take it you’re not a fan then?”

“Sorry?”

“You ain’t heard these guys’ music before?” He gestured towards the boys. You nodded, realising he was asking if you liked the band “Oh, some of it, yeah.”

“Oh, you’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.” Changbin pouted. Sunmi rolled her eyes, “No, it’s a breath of fresh air to see you not fawning over them. I like you already.”

Oh, if only she knew how much you did obsess over one of them. She would be concerned for you, if she could read your mind around him. You forced a smile, “I just honestly… hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago.”

Her eyes widened, “You’re kidding. How do you live in Seoul and not hear of them?” Then Chan leaned forward, adding to explain to you, “Sunmi’s one of our producers, by the way. She’s been with us since our second album. One of the best.”

“And Y/N isn’t a local.” Kairi added, “She moved here a while ago.”

“Yeah the music scene back home is….not the biggest.” You said briefly, not wanting to talk about yourself too much. You had been hoping to blend in, not be the centre of attention tonight and Sunmi asked, “And where is… back home?”

“Okay! A pause on the questions. I need Y/N for something.” Kairi interrupted, coming over to you and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I’m getting another drink.”

You nodded, relieved she could pick up on your body language. As soon as you were out of earshot of the living room, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. They ask you a lot of questions. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”

“No, I don’t mind, I’m just kind of tired and feel like I may not be at my best social energy right now.” You apologised, leaning against the counter, as she made a cocktail for herself. Her eyes wandered over you, “You really do look beautiful. I love the glitter eyeshadow.”

“You like my bow?” You smiled, twirling to show her. She laughed, “It’s the cherry on top. So, how was it tonight with Nate? As far as I remember…. he has the biggest crush on you, or he’s just a very sincere… fuckboy.”

“Regardless…I had a really good time with him.” You said, running your finger along the marble slab. You could hear Jisung and Changbin’s loud laughter from the other room. They seemed like a lot of fun, and you definitely wanted to relax for the rest of the night. You wanted them to like you too, so perhaps you could do with a little liquid courage. As if she read your mind, Kairi finished mixing her drink then tilt her head, “You suuure you don’t want one?”

But every other time you’d gotten tipsy around Hyunjin, you’d ended up doing something stupid. “No, I…think I’ll stick with water.” You decided. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her vodka, “Did you two kiss tonight?”

“Me and Jeonghan…?” You were surprised at the question. She hummed, “Yeah, sorry if that was weird to ask. I just know…things between you and Hyunjin…aren’t the best.”

“Did you hear us? The other night in the car?” You ended up asking, even though it was embarrassing for you to bring up that argument. She looked up at you, “Bits and pieces.”

“And what’d you think?” You bit your lip. She sighed, “I think you both…have a lot of pent-up feelings. It’s good you got them out.”

“It felt…immature to fight him. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m usually not…that vocal”

“There was nothing wrong with what you said. I mean, trust me, I’ve had a hell of a lot more aggressive fights with Chris. We end up saying a lot of stuff we don’t mean.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I meant everything. I don’t really regret any of it.”

“Then he needed to hear that.” Kairi agreed, “I didn’t know he cut you off like that completely. I would have been devastated if I was you. I’d say you handled it pretty well… Hyunjin doesn’t really talk to me about you, and I wish I could be more helpful. How do you feel now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but he took me shopping last week… I don’t know how I feel about it. It felt a lot like a date, but it wasn’t. I just…wish I had some surety from him, you know?”

Her hand landed on yours comfortingly, “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I’m just glad you chose to come tonight.”

“Are you girls gonna spend the entire night gossiping without us?” Jisung interrupted. You turned and saw him in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. You hope he didn’t overhear anything. Kairi laughed, “What do you need?”

Jisung grinned widely, “Well, actually. I was gonna go get ice from the fridge upstairs, if any of you want to accompany me for that? Make you feel helpful.”

“I could come with.” You offered, smiling at him. He did a small fist pump, “Exactly the outcome I was hoping for. No offence, Kair”

As you followed him up the stairs to the storage room, he reminded you, “Be careful, your heels. I’ve fallen face-first on these steps more times than I’d admit.”

Your heart warmed at his concern, and you grabbed the bannister to keep your balance.“Cool place though, right?” He asked, looking back at you as you observed the framed pictures on the wall and he continued, “Me and the boys used to spend a lot of our weekends here.”

“Oh? That must have been nice….” You walked into a storage room, of sorts. A mini-fridge stood in the corner and Jisung pulled it open, grabbing the ice box as he looked back at you, “Yeah. Kairi got so sick of having us over, she ended up turning her study into another guest room.”

“Of course she did.” You laughed, “Do you still come here often?”

He shook his head, reaching for more ice, “After Chan and Kairi broke up, we obviously stopped for a while, but… I’m hoping to get back to normal. Couldn’t be more thrilled that they’re back together.”

“Me too. They seem pretty…perfect for each other.” You smiled. He stood up straight, his ribbed top riding up, and you looked away. All of them were so attractive it was hard to comprehend such a pretty friend group existed. He grinned at you, “I should thank you for that.”

“Me? I… didn’t do anything”

“Do you mind holding this?” He handed you the ice box momentarily, “Well, Hyunjin told me that you helped them meet up at her birthday.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded, gripping it within your hands and it was freezing, condensation making it slip in your palms, “I…guess I did.” You had the urge to ask him what else he talked about with him, but this was your first time meeting Jisung, and that would be weird to ask. “Sure sounded like a fun party. Hyunjin told me you organise those a lot.” Jisung continued, taking back the ice box from you, “And tell me about it downstairs. I would love to talk to you in this storage room all night, but… let’s get this ice to them before all of it melts, and before Changbin threatens to kill me again.”

Back in the living room, the music seemed louder when you returned, and Hyunjin was engaged in an intense conversation with Sunmi and Changbin. Kairi was showing Chan something on her phone. You settled on a seat, and Jisung naturally pulled up a chair to be closer to you. He clinked his drink with yours, before he took a big mouthful, cheeks full of the liquid before swallowing. “So…what was I saying?” Jisung asked, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. You took a sip of your water, already feeling more at ease around him, “About how I’m a really great party planner.”

He smiled, “Right. That. Have you ever thought of doing that professionally?”

You laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know what Hyunjin was talking about. I’ve only organised two parties in my life…my best friend's and Kairi’s…they both ended in a disaster.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, I’m sure.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “So… he also happened to mention you’re real good at art. Can I see some of it or are you going to be shrouded in mystery forever?”

You giggled, reaching for your phone, “There is absolutely nothing mysterious about that, Jisung. You can see it, but… it’s not the best.”

He peeked into your phone gallery as you showed him a few paintings you’d made over the past few years, and Jisung probably wasn’t interested in art, but he still smiled, reacting overtly to each of them and even pointing out which ones he liked. He reminded you a lot of Yeonjun in that sense, where he took interest in something just because of his friends. He was playful, and it was nice to see the physical manifestation of all the stories Hyunjin told you about. You glanced up and Hyunjin was looking at you, probably curious about why you and Jisung were peeking into your phone, so you explained, “I was just showing him some of my paintings.”

He nodded, making brief eye contact with Jisung before he said, “Ah. I’m uh…going to check on the dessert.”

“Do you want my help?” You asked, already moving to stand up. He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from the conversation.”

Disappointed, you settled back down, and Jisung spoke, “Can I ask you something, honestly though?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you leave your fancy wedding date to come here?”

“I…promised Kairi I’d try to make it here.” You replied, staring at the liquid in your glass. Jisung hummed, “Right, right. I see.” You were glad he didn’t push you further, seeing as how he was Hyunjin’s best friend and any answer you could come up with would be embarrassing. Before you could say anything further anyway, Changbin started talking about an incident on their trip to Japan, and you let yourself be swept up into the conversation. He was a great storyteller, and so charismatic. It wasn’t too hard to imagine why they were so famous. You’d only been here an hour or so, and you could listen to them talk for hours. Almost mesmerised by their dynamic, you watched the boys talk, losing track of time… and of how long Hyunjin had been gone. Your mug lay empty on the coffee table, and you stood up to refill it, when Changbin asked, “Where the fuck is Jinnie?”

“Probably hyper-fixating in the kitchen. Y/N, do you think you could call him out?” Jisung replied, looking at you expectantly. You blanked, feeling taken aback by the question. Kairi noticed, moving to stand, “Um, I can get—”

“No, that’s fine.” You spoke. You were braver than that and it would finally give you the chance to talk to him by yourself, “I can just get him.”

“Okay…” She settled back down, shooting you a comforting smile. You walked over to the kitchen, and your heels were so loud on the tiled floor that he’d definitely hear you coming. The door was closed, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to interrupt him.

“Come in.” His voice carried to you. You pushed the door open, eyes falling on him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking from his glass, staring into nothing. Well. He was staring at the oven, but why was he alone in here? He looked over his shoulder, eyes flickering over your form, “Oh. Hey.”

You stood awkwardly by the door, hand holding it open, “Hi. Um. The guys were…asking for you. I thought you were getting dessert.” He looked around, at the mess of things, “I was. It’s still not ready, so I decided to wait for it. You can let them know I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh.” You spoke, wondering if you should leave… but you were curious, “You’ve been in here by yourself for really long.”

“Yeah. Just wanted to be by myself for a bit.”

A tinge of hurt hit you, “Oh…do you want me to leave?”

He let out a sigh, putting his glass on the counter, and turned to face you, “No…you don’t have to do that.”

“But…you just said you want to be by yourself.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, amused look on his face, “That…obviously doesn’t include you.”

You’d been standing on the threshold the entire time, but at those words, you stepped in, letting the door shut behind you. You looked around the little kitchen, “Sorry I used your mug.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s fine. I’m surprised you ended up picking mine. Guess we like the same things.”

“You could say that.” You breathed, hands behind your back. His gaze felt so strong on you, and it was so quiet in here compared to the chaos of the outside. He smiled lightly, when you asked him, “So…what dessert are we having tonight?”

He glanced at the oven, “A…strawberry tart. You like those?”

You thought about it, “I don’t know. I haven’t had one since I was a kid anyway.”

Hyunjin put his hands on the counter, tilting his head, “Really? Felix never baked one for you?”

“He was kind of obsessed with chocolate…I had too much of that.” You recalled. Hyunjin smiled, nodding, “Right. I remember trying out the treats he made us…when we went to the Creek for the swim.”

“Wow…that feels like it was ages ago.” You remembered. Hyunjin nodded, “It was. I guess. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Do you miss it?” You ended up asking. His expression softened, “I…do. Your friends were fun to hang out with.”

“Aren’t they your friends too?” You laughed. He shrugged cutely, “Right, but I don’t think I would’ve talked to anybody in town if it wasn’t for you.”

You smiled, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. That was all Hana. She’s the one who…introduced you to us.”

“You miss them? Your friends?” He asked. You sighed, leaning against the door, crossing your arms to keep warm as you thought about it, “Yeah. Recently I’ve missing home so much and my friends, well at this point they’re…like my family. It sucks being separated from them. Kind of like…how you felt when you were away from the boys.”

“I’m sorry if I forced you to stay.” He suddenly said, “I realize that…it may have been my emotionally clouded judgment, and I feel like… I guilted you into staying here. Maybe it was selfish of me.”

Your eyes narrowed, a realisation sinking in as to why he seemed a little distant, “Is that why you’re in here by yourself?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Just needed to take my mind off things. I guess honestly, I just…miss spending time with you, like we did back home. The other night, I was learning a new routine and realised you’ve never even seen me dance. Not in person, at least. I mean, isn’t that crazy? We’ve known each other so long, but there’s so much of me you don’t know. The thought freaked me out, and then…”

“And then?”

“Then I started thinking that it goes the other way too. There’s so much of you I still haven’t seen.” He said, “Like the other day, when you wore the jacket, I realised…I only know you in the summer. I haven’t seen you in winter."

Your heart squeezed at his confusing but thoughtful words, and you smiled, “I’m the same in all the seasons, Hyunjin.”

He was looking at you from across the room, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Did you know I was coming here tonight?”

He shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Kairi told me you had a wedding date with Jeonghan…”

“Yeah, I did. He understands though…this was just as important.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I would love to see you dance…if you feel comfortable.”

He looked at you at that, smiling slightly, before a short embarrassed laugh, “Yeah."

The oven let out a ding, interrupting whatever you might say. He smiled wide, and his demeanour already seemed lighter, “It’s done. Do you wanna do the honor?”

“Oh. Sure”. You stepped over to him,, and he pulled open the oven door. He was standing so close now that you could see the perspiration slide down his jaw, droplets cascading down neck, and he must have been nervous this whole time. You bent down to see into the oven, and it smelled amazing, but before you could grab the handle of the hot pan, you felt a firm grip on your arm stopping you, “Wait—”.

Startled, you looked up at Hyunjin, his hand circling your wrist tightly, “What?”

His eyes searched yours, “It’s burning hot. Y/N. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You then realised you weren’t wearing any mitts, and you were just gonna grab the baking dish like so, with bare hands. How stupid. Your hair fell into your eyes, making it harder to see Hyunjin, but you mumbled a pathetic, “Oh.”

He reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, then let out a chuckle, voice soft, “What were you thinking?”

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “I wasn’t.”

He smiled, standing up tall, “I got this.”

Your face felt hot, and you were only a little mortified. Carefully, Hyunjin placed the baking dish on the kitchen counter, taking off his oven mitts; they were red and matched your dress. He nudged you, elbow against yours, “You wanna be the first one to try it? I’ll let you have an extra piece and if you end up liking it and want the whole thing, I can just tell the others I burnt the dish.”

You laughed, looking up at him, “You’d lie to your friends so I could have more pastry?”

A knock on the door pulled your attention to Chan. He peeked in, “Hey guys. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt…but Hanbin’s leaving, so he wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Of course” Hyunjin said, and you followed them out into the foyer, where Hanbin and Sumni stood in their winter coats already and everybody was gathered around them. Kairi was hugging them, when Hyunjin spoke, “You’re not staying for dessert? Come onn.”

Hanbin smiled apologetically, “Dude, it’s gonna snow again, and the traffic’s terrible. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home until morning.”

“Oh, you should still take some of the strawberry tart some with you” Kairi said, running back into the kitchen, “I have a few takeout containers.”

You looked at Sunmi, “You said traffic’s going to be bad?” She nodded, “Yeah, Seoul basically shuts down in bad weather. We don’t wanna risk it. It’ll only get worse, but …it was really nice meeting you tonight, Y/N.”

You glanced at Chan, realising they were probably right, and your stomach sank, “Oh. I guess I should probably get going too then.”

“What?” Jisung complained loudly, “You just got here.”

“We can drop you off.” Hanbin suggested, “Our car’s parked out front.”

Jisung let out a dramatic sigh. You didn’t really want to leave, you were just getting to warm up to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t leave, you could be stuck until tomorrow. You reached for your coat, “That sounds good Hanbin, as long as it’s not an inconvenience.”

Kairi walked back in with takeout boxes in hand, and her eyes narrowed, “What’s going on? Y/N’s leaving too?”

You slipped your coat on, tossing your hair out of it, “They said they could take me home. The snow’s piling up....” Kairi shook her head, “Nope. You’re not leaving.”

You laughed, stepping closer to grab her hand, “What do you mean? I don't want to leave but I I don’t exactly have a choice.”

She squeezed your hands, “Babe, you just got a few hours ago. Stay a while, and if things are still bad when you want to leave, you can just sleep in my guest bedroom. I mean, that’s what it’s for.”

You considered it, and then Changbin spoke, “See? You have no excuses. So if you still decide to leave now, that just means you hate us.”

You laughed, “Okay, I guess I can stay a little.”

Kairi squealed, pulling you into a hug. Your heart warmed at the idea that they all wanted to spend more time with you. It was only the first time you were meeting most of them, but they still reacted like that. It made you feel wanted. You’d only been craving that all this while. From the corner of your eye, you caught Hyunijn’s reaction. He wasn’t dramatically expressive, unlike Changbin or Jisung, who wore their emotions on their sleeve. Hyunjin was watching this exchange quietly from the corner, arms across his chest, leaning against a pillar. He seemed calm, like he was okay with whatever you ended up doing, but he was gazing at you so intently it made you want to stay just so he’d look at you like that the rest of the night.

»»————-

In a matter of an hour, the strawberry tart had been cut up and shared, and remnants lay on porcelain plates decorating the coffee table. Kairi had beautiful crockery. She had a beautiful home. She had beautiful friends. Changbin was funnier than you expected — Hyunjin had never talked about his humour before, and you were glad you were discovering it on your own now. He was also touchy, he’d find excuses to touch Hyunjin and Jisung every now and then, a giggle on his face when they unwittingly pushed him away. You’d only been here a few hours, but watching their dynamic unfolding was wonderful.

After Hanbin and Seonmi had left, you’d moved over to the couch, which was much more comfortable than your earlier seat, and Hyunjin had surprisingly stayed where he was…which happened to be right next to you. He was manspreading, leaning against the couch arm, a drink in his hand. The music playing was much softer now, so it was easier to have the conversations and listen to them, and Jisung was playing the piano again quietly. Kairi animatedly explained something to him, and Chan was just listening with a smile on his face, while he stroked her back. They were so cute it made you want to die. You snuck glances at Hyunjin to your right, every now and then. He was still calm as ever, but his cheeks were red from all the drinking. His hair was messier too, and it made him look hotter than you could ever imagine. It was hard to look him in the eye, when he looked this good, so you focused on everything else. You were so engaged in another one of Changbin’s crazy stories, you didn’t realize when you reached to pull your dress down, you accidentally put your hand on Hyunjin’s thigh.

You don’t know what you were thinking. You’d severely miscalculated the distance between you. It was only for a second, but he noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. Instantly, he tensed up, pausing in the middle of his sip. You wondered if he’d push it away. If he’d tell you to stop, or ask what you were doing. Instead, he lift the drink to his mouth like nothing happened. You pulled your hand back before anybody else noticed. It was only an accident after all.

Changbin’s attention was all on you; he’d been telling you about his favorite records and artists in the music industry. He was enjoying the strawberry tart Hyunjin baked, leaving crumbs behind, and paused to ask you, “So now that you’ve been here a while, what’s your favorite place in the city?” You tilt your head, mulling over it, “I’ll have to think about that…I haven’t seen all of it yet.”

“Nobody’s seen all of it, Y/N” Jisung rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a laugh, “Even though some of us have been here our whole lives.”

That was hard for you to comprehend. You knew every inch of Daejon, every rock, every tree, each house. You’d eaten at every restaurant, shopped in every boutique, and knew everybody. “This might be a stupid question but do you never feel like exploring more of it?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, “It’s not really possible. Nobody has the time or the energy, or the money.”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin spoke, surprising you. You glanced at him, and he paused from drinking to address you, “I feel that…people here get stuck in their little convenient routines and never feel a want for more.”

Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”

He swirled the drink in his glass, “So many people here…get so comfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort, but when you live in a city like this…I don’t understand. They only go to the same coffee shop for fifty years, the same restaurants, not really trying anything new.”

“I hate that.” You spoke up, before he’d even finished speaking. You hated the idea of that, of an endless routine, and an unchanging life. It was one of the few things in life you were sure about. Hyunjin was looking at you and only you, as he spoke, “I know. So many people here…build their life around a few places, and those places become their life. Even though the city is so much bigger than that, and I guess I hate…the idea of settling for whatever there is.”

Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”

A tissue box lay on the end table next to Hyunjin. Turning back to the room, you asked, “Is it okay if I have the last piece of the pastry?” It was a unanimous yes, and when you bit into the tart, little crumbs fell to your thighs, and between your thighs. It was a mess so naturally, you said, “Sorry, could you pass me that, Hyunjin?”

He looked around, noticing the only thing next to him, the box of tissues. He nodded, “Yeah, of course” and reached in for a few, passing them to you. You took them from him, fingers brushing against his. Your stomach flipped at the sensation. His hand was so warm, and your fingers lingered on his a while longer — as long as you could without making it weird. Then, you simply wiped away the crumbs from your thighs, drawing Hyunjin’s brief attention to them. After all, you’d only been this messy with the pastry so you’d have an excuse to talk to him.

You wonder if he picked up on that. You hadn't been too subtle about it, being as messy as you could possibly be just so he'd have an excuse to give you the tissues. Hyunjin was so close to you, after being so out of reach. Being in the same room as him wasn’t enough, sitting on the same couch as him wasn’t enough. You wanted to touch him, be on him, and for him to be on you. You did feel kind of insane, but this was so much more than how crushes or boyfriends had ever made you feel. The desire you felt...you never even knew that was humanely possible. You were so lost in him, and his warm body sitting next to yours that you wouldn’t notice even if the room around you disappeared completely. Still, you owed something to the rest so you asked, “Um, what about you Changbin? What’s your favorite place?”

He lift his glass up, a wide grin on his face, “That’s easy. The recording studio.” Chan laughed, picking up on your conversation, “I second that answer.”

They really loved what they did. You wonder why your favorite place wasn’t automatically the painting studio. Shouldn’t it be that, seeing as to how that was your biggest purpose in life? But ever since the past few weeks, you dreaded returning to a studio. The thought made your stomach sink. If you weren’t an artist, what even were you? It sent you into a spiral, and you were dissociating from this party, just thinking about it.

“You okay?”

You could drown in the softness of that voice. A gentle touch to your shoulder, and you looked at Hyunjin as he lowered his voice, asking again, “You feel fine?”

You nodded, gripping your dress tightly, “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”

“Good, or bad?” He whispered, not wanting to interrupt all of the conversations in the room. You stared at him, “I don’t know. Bad.”

“Do you want to step out of here?” He asked. He was so attentive. Maybe he could be the solution for your predicament too. You shook your head, “I want to ask you something but it’s kind of…random.”

“I’m listening.” He spoke, an amused smile on his features. You swallowed, fiddling with the glass in your lap, and it was easy to filter out every noise in the room when he was next to you, “We always talked about painting together. Would you still be up for something like that? Or…are you too busy with your schedule?”

“If that’s something you want to do, we can do it together.” He replied, “I have a personal studio…you could come to my place, or…I could come to yours.”

“Maybe I should come to yours. I…wanna see your room too.” You spoke. He cracked a smile, “We can make that happen.”

In the midst of all this, you shifted, absentmindedly inching closer to Hyunjin on the couch, until your leg was completely touching his. You felt like a school girl finding excuses to touch her crush, and even just this little touch sent fireworks in your belly. He didn’t move away this time either, and that was a triumph in your book. He just sent you a comforting smile. Of course, the bubble popped, and Jisung said something, pulling your attention back to him, “You should really visit our recording studio, Y/N. I think you’d appreciate the…precision and organisation of everything.”

“How do you know that’s something I like?” You laughed. He shrugged, “I’ve only known you for a few hours, but you definitely give off that vibe.”

“Well, that’s pretty accurate, I’d say,” Kairi laughed, then looked to you, “I think you’d appreciate the way Chan organized my record collection.”

“You have a record collection?” You were surprised. She rolled her eyes, “Of course I do. I’m pretentious like that.”

“I can show you. They’re right by the TV.” Chan proposed, standing up. You didn’t want to leave Hyunjin’s side and warmth, but you didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, so you stood up, “I’d love that.” It was in the same room, so at least you wouldn’t be too far from Hyunjin, and Chan began showing you the TV cabinet and how he’d arranged all the records in order of release and by band. He was giggling, explaining something, and you told him how much this reminded you of Yeonjun - he also had a similar collection of DVDs. Chan’s eyes lit up at that. He was surprised that people still bought DVDs, and you mentioned that he should meet Yeonjun. It was a crazy thing to suggest, but you didn’t think too much of it. Your two worlds colliding. You think they’d like each other. Thinking of it, Chan would probably like Felix, too. As he sifted through the records, you glanced back over to the couch where Hyunjin and Jisung were having an animated conversation. He seemed so happy, laughing loudly, eyes crinkling. You’d missed seeing him like that. You’d been getting used to meeting the tense version of him, and this was a welcome change. Around the people he loved, he seemed like the truest version of himself.

You wanted to catch a subtle glance at him for another split-second. But you caught so much more. He was staring at you. He was speaking to someone but his gaze kept flickering back to you, and he wasn’t even subtle about it. At least you had tried to not be so obvious, but he was blatantly checking you out. His gaze would flicker from his friends, to you, to your dress, to your legs. It made you feel dizzy, and you tried to not react.

You couldn’t still be upset at him for what happened all those weeks ago. He’d apologized, and he already said it was the hardest thing he had done. He had more than made up for it, hadn’t he? He had convinced you to stay. You’d tried so hard to move on, to force feelings for others, you’d kissed another boy, but it was impossible. Ever since he left Daejon…you’d tried to not think about him, but he was everywhere and in everything you saw. In your good moments, and in your bad. Even after he broke your heart, he was all around you.

Chan started telling you about his favorite records, and you got lost in the conversation until Kairi called him back, whining cutely from the empty armchair. So with a few top-tier record recommendations by Chan, you made your way back to the couch, and Hyunjin was still laughing over a silly joke. He shifted so you could sit, and as soon as you did, he asked you, “Find anything you liked?”

“Quite a few. I’m excited to hear them.”

And just like that, with a small smile and a nod, Hyunjin’s hand moved to your bare thigh. Your dress had ridden up as soon as you’d sat back down, and he had jumped at the opportunity with no hesitation. Your heart raced at the realisation. Anybody could see this, but he didn’t seem to care. He inched upwards, settling comfortably on your upper thigh, right where the hem of your dress ended. It sent a wave of arousal though you. Jisung began speaking again. Trying to be nonchalant was hard, when your heart was jumping up and down at this little development. A part of you was so happy he’d forgotten any and all unsaid boundaries that he had set himself months ago. Things had changed with him, and you wanted to dig into his brain to find out what led to this behaviour. What happened to not wanting you, to not taking risks, to not wanting a relationship or love?

The others didn’t seem to care that Hyunjin was touching you so openly, or that he’d completely checked out of the conversation. He was too preoccupied with touching you. His thumb drew circles on your bare skin, and it was comforting, it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but how could it also not be? You’d been starved for this, so you couldn’t help the sensations through you at his simple touch. Chan spoke to you again, “You should really come to the building. We can show you around. Eunwoo would probably be okay with it.”

You guessed that Eunwoo was their manager’s name, and you supposed that Chan was directing that to Hyunjin, but Hyunjin had completely stopped participating in this discussion, forgetting that he held a purpose to this gathering other than touching you like this. But no purpose could be greater than that, could it?

Each circle he traced sent a shiver down your spine, strokes of lightning down your thigh, between your legs. Jisung started talking about something else, and you couldn’t keep track. You were lightheaded. You were dying. Each second that Hyunjin’s thumb brushed against your thigh, you screamed a bit inside. He was so nonchalant with it, holding your leg at a party like you were his. You were his. Despite everything. His metallic rings were cold on your skin, and Hyunjin's hands slipped between your thighs. All of his friends were here, but nobody was looking at that. Hyunjin was talking to Chan, smiling occasionally, and groping your thigh at the same time. You wish he'd never stop. It was so fucking hot. Your head was spinning, and your heart felt like it might collapse from beating too fast. It couldn’t be normal for it to pound so loudly in your chest. Could everyone in this room hear you? Could they hear the insanity within you for him? Why couldn’t he should just drop this charade, take you away and fuck you right now?

A drink. You needed a drink. You interrupted the conversation, perhaps speaking far too loudly, “Han, could you please pass me the bottle of wine?”

Han nodded, reaching over with the bottle clumsily, and it was fine until it wasn’t. He was too drunk and preoccupied as he handed it to you. The wine spilled over, landing right on your lap and soaking your dress. “Fuck!” Jisung exclaimed, standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

Hyunjin pulled his hand back from your thigh, at the sudden sensation. It was like a cold shower, snapping you out of your daze. The liquid ruined your dress, and it was an expensive one, but it wasn’t Jisung’s fault. You wouldn’t blame him when it was entirely your fault. You didn’t want to disrupt the party, so you quickly stood up, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Kairi, who’d vaguely registered that this had happened, “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?”

“No, it should be fine. Excuse me…” You made your way out of the living room. You went up the stairwell, the music fading in the background. Your heels were muffled on the carpeted staircase, and your legs felt shaky. Jisung had informed you the bathroom was to the right. You stepped in, catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Your hair was messier than it should be, but it was still fine. You hadn’t drank anything in the past few hours, but you definitely felt drunk. Opening the faucet, you splashed droplets of water onto your dress. The wine had completely spread out, staining the skirt, and your only respite was that it was red wine on a red dress. You braced yourself against the countertop, letting out a sigh, wondering if this had been a stupid idea.

A soft knock pulled you out of your despair.

“Come in.” You unlocked the door to Hyunjin standing there. He was leaning against the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets, “Hey…you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to your dress, “What’s the verdict? Will the dress survive?”

“You tell me.” You laughed, lifting it up to show him the wine stain. He grimaced, “Shit. You need help?” You didn’t. After all, what could he do that you couldn’t? But you nodded, “Yeah”

He stepped in. The bathroom was tiny. It was cute, with a marble countertop and Kairi clearly had a flair for decoration. Hyunjin pushed his sleeves up, wetting his hands in the sink and grabbed the hem of your dress, fingers rubbing at the stain. He was bent over, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated. He must be trying a new cologne. His scent was so strong, infiltrating your brain, your body, your being. It was sexy, and it was so him. It didn’t help how dizzy you felt.

“I don’t think it's going to come out.” You said truthfully, so he wouldn’t engage in a losing battle. He seemed determined though, “I’m sorry. Jisung can be…such a klutz sometimes.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” You said, as Hyunjin suggested, “There must be something in the cabinet that would help, like a wine stain remover or something.”

“I doubt it.” You laughed, leaning against the counter and Hyunjin dejectedly let go of your skirt. He was frowning, a stupid pout on his pretty face, “It’s a shame… That’s a beautiful dress.”

You smiled, accepting this loss and crossed your arms, “Don’t worry too much. It’s only temporary. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“Maybe I can step into Kairi’s closet, and grab you another dress?” He suggested. You shook your head before he could finish, “You don’t need to do that for me.”

Yet he was about to leave, determined to get you out of this sticky situation. A surge of panic rose through you. You grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him back in, “Wait, Hyunjin.”

He stumbled back to you, confused, “Yeah?”

Your voice fell to a lower tone, a little embarrassed at your urgency, “Don’t go just yet.”

His eyes met yours, an intense look in them, “Why?”

Your eyes closed, and you were still gripping onto his sweater, “My head is spinning.”

“You drank too much?” He realised. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was much closer than you’d anticipated, “I guess I was trying to deal with being in the same room as you.” You joked, with a dry chuckle. He seemed amused, “You really can’t stand me that much?”

You bit your lip, glancing up at him, wondering if he missed all the obvious signs tonight, “You know that’s not true.”

“And I know that your head’s not really spinning.” He said without pause. You frowned, straightening up, “How could you possibly know that?”

His lips curled up, and he could probably hear your pounding heart, “You didn’t even have a single sip tonight. I was looking at you the entire night.”

So he noticed that all you drank was water tonight, but you had to keep up appearances, “You’re accusing me of lying?”

“Maybe you’re just trying to keep me in here with you.”

Your voice dropped, “Why would I do that, Hyunjin?”

His eyes crinkled, an amused expression on his face which was so cocky that it pissed you off and turned you on at the same time. He said, “I don’t claim to know your secret agenda.”

“I don’t have an agenda.”

He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips, “Spilling wine on yourself on purpose sure makes it seem like you have one.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasped, laughing in disbelief at his accusation, “Why would I do something so stupid?”

“Because you knew I’d follow you.” He gripped the marble counter behind you, caging you between his arms. You lost your words, heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly reality was settling in. He was closer to you every second, and you could see every detail on his face - you could see yourself in his eyes, and his lips were so close to to being on yours. The situation seemed all too familiar, and you had to think straight. You couldn’t let yourself be driven by lust again, you couldn’t just be conveniently kissing him, no matter how much you wanted it, without knowing what it meant to him. You mumbled, hands reaching up to his chest, like a physical barrier between your bodies, and it took you strength to do and say so, “Hyunjin…you can’t kiss me if you’re just going to leave again.”

His voice was soft, “I think for me to leave you tonight, someone would have to kill me."

Something in you shifted, and your body was buzzing and tingly all over. He never had trouble leaving you before so you couldn't understand, “What... changed?”

He paused, as if finding the right words, “Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”

His gaze fixated on yours, like he could see right through you, into your soul, and maybe he could this entire time. Maybe that’s why everything he spoke was thoughts you’d kept hidden, and every touch felt like coming home. When he was gone, he was everywhere too. If you ever needed more of a sign...then this was it. There were so much you could say to him in that moment, but you just settled for saying, “You were right.”

He was incapable of looking in your eyes, gaze fixated on your lips, “About what—?” And in the same second, you pulled him to you, unable to keep any of this charade up longer, fists knotted in his shirt, crushing his lips to yours.

A surprised noise left his mouth at your urgency but Hyunjin was a lover before he was anything else and so he recovered within seconds, grabbing your face to kiss you back. His grip was tight, and desperate, and you pushed him until he was against the door. His lips tasted of a strange combination of red wine and of strawberry tart, and he pressed his mouth to yours so hard it could bruise, one hand around your neck, the other gripping your jaw, and it wasn't enough. He only pulled back to breathe, and let out a breathless chuckle, “I was right about what?”

“I did drop the wine on purpose.” You admitted, wondering his reaction, but he just immediately grabbed you again, crushing your mouths together again. It was stupid but you just needed to be alone with him, and it was the only way you could think of. He laughed in between the kiss, “That’s so stupid.” He pressed you to the counter, hands tight on your waist, knocking over whatever Kairi had so perfectly curated on the countertop. Your head spun with desire, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He accommodated you so easily, tilting his head to kiss you better, falling back into this rhythm like it was natural to your body. You let go of his shirt, leaving it crinkled, so you could tug at his hair. His hands were everywhere. Around your neck, in your hair, at your waist. He groaned, pulling away for a second to mumble, “I missed you so much. You could have just asked me... And I thought I did stupid things to get your attention.”

“I missed you too.” You breathed, hands resting at the nape of his neck, sifting through his hair as you looked up at him, doe eyes, and since he wanted you to ask him, you would, “Please kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to yours and grinning into the kiss. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, and you tugged at them, trying to unbutton it. He must have sensed your urgency, a whine mixed in between your pecks, so he grabbed your thighs, lifting you onto the marble countertop. He didn’t stop kissing you for a second, fingers skimming your skin, sending a rush through your body, and his tongue slipped into your mouth again, and you wish you could swallow each other whole.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so reminiscent of the first time you’d kissed him. It had been on a night like tonight, and the longing had built up so much it was pouring out of you. All of this pining certainly couldn’t be good for the two of you by the roughness of your touches, like you were both afraid to be pulled away from each other. You tugged at his sweater, pushing it up to his chest, so you could touch his skin. Your hands were cold, and he shivered at the touch, but he didn’t stop you, kissing your jaw at the same time you felt him up. Your head tilted to the ceiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, you let your hands explore his body, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and tightening your hold on him. He was so compliant. He was so desperate. You felt him undo your bow, unzipping the dress. A fire burned within you, and his name was a familiar moan on your lips, “Hyun…”

“Yes, baby?” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth and his face was covered in your red lipstick. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. A giggle escaped you, and you brushed your thumb against his lips, “You have some of me on you.”

He shook his head, unbothered, leaning in to kiss you again, “I have all of you in me.”

It meant something deeper than red lipstick. It meant so much that you could probably wonder about it for days, but you just grabbed his face in your hands, cupping his soft cheeks. All of him was in you too. He was a part of who you were, and you couldn’t recall a time before Hyunjin in your life. He kissed your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck. It was hard to think straight when his mouth was sucking on you, and the bulge in his pants was pressing against you. You're sure Kairi kept a condom in here somewhere. You would let him fuck you. Right here. Right now. But a familiar worry festered within you, and it was physically impossible to pull back from the kiss as you whispered, “Wait.. you’re sure about doing this?”

He opened his eyes to look at you, and he looked so lovesick, eyes-half lidded, breathing heavy, hair messy and your spit and lipstick coating his lips, “About what?”

You touched his face, tracing your fingers over his cheeks and his pretty mouth, tracing it all to memory again after it had been ripped away from you for all this time. Perhaps you were ruining the passion of the moment, but you couldn’t let yourself go through that heartbreak again, “I don't want you to regret this. You said you didn’t want to start something that could put you…or the band at risk. So are you sure about…what we’re doing?”

It seemed to be Hyunjin’s biggest fear — a relationship, falling in love, somebody finding out about you. His company. His managers. His fans. The press. The rest of the world.

“I was sure the minute I asked you to stay, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing you again, “You’re…everything to me.”

The confession seemed drastic from the Hyunjin who had pushed you away countless times, from the Hyunjin who kissed you only to tell you he could never want a relationship. Yet you still didn’t know what he actually wanted. Would he wake up and regret this? He kissed the corner of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of you, squeezing you in his grip, and said, “I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”

His words implied a sense of… inevitability and fate. You were doomed for him too. No matter what pulled you apart, something pushed you together always. It felt like an endless cycle…a trajectory you two were on that neither of you could control. Your eyes widened, and you'd never been this happy, “You’re…not just saying this because you’re drunk?”

He smiled at your words, cupping your face, “I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”

His eyes seemed so sincere, so genuine and you whispered, “So…what are we doing to do now?”

“I guess... now we have to go back downstairs, because our friends are waiting for us…and you’re still soaked in wine.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and he pulled you closer, like he didn't want to let you go.

“Right…” You trailed off, tightening your grip on him, “That’s probably what we should do.”

“Yeah. That’s the right thing to do.” He mumbled, but he was already eating up his own words, swallowing your breath, and pressing you to the mirror. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer in a starved, hungry kiss and it didn’t feel humanely possible to be closer than this. He let out a moan, pressing kisses to your lips, “Fuck, I missed you so fucking much.”

You nodded, matching his every frenzied kiss, “Me too. I want you so bad.”

This rush. It seemed to always consume you, and Hyunjin squeezed your tits through your dress, pushing the skirt up and you were both losing control again. He pulled back, restraining himself, “I…we shouldn’t do this here.”

He said that, but he still kept kissing you, and this was a vicious cycle you would always find yourself in. You had wanted him for so long that you didn’t care where you were, but surely…this wasn’t the place. Your first time being that intimate with him shouldn’t be on top of a marble bathroom countertop, with so much opportunity to be interrupted by your friends. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure if you continued. You pulled back from the kiss too, “I think somebody needs to physically separate us for that to work.”

He laughed, and his voice was hoarse from all the kissing, and his lips were swollen. You were capable of waiting a while, instead of jumping each others bones right now. You were both adults, and you could restrain yourself. It was hard to take him seriously with imprints of your lipstick on his mouth. It made him look romantic. It made him look like yours. You wish you covered all of him in it, lip prints over his whole body, leaving no spot un-kissed. You’d missed him so much, it just felt dumb to stop now, but you did. He breathed in, calming himself, “You’re right. We…don’t have to rush.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I want to rush though.”

He laughed, fingers caressing your jaw so softly, “I just…I have to ask you something, before we go back downstairs—”

“Yes?”

“I know that I’ve acted stupidly about this in the past, but when I told you all those things, when I said that it’s a risk, that’s still true, Y/N. It’s still dangerous. You don’t know how wild it can get, if…anybody finds out about you. People are just looking for an opportunity to hurt us, me, the other guys, and…if you’re around me, then that includes you too. I can’t let anything happen to you, or hurt you. I would never forgive myself.” Hearing him talk made you afraid again. This was where it had always ended. This would be the last thing Hyunjin would always say to you, after kissing you. It always ended here, like a dead-end to your perfect dream, and you dreaded his next words, heart pounding like you'd pass out. You expected it.

But instead he said, “I want you. So much. I know that now, that nothing can replace the feeling of you.”

Your eyes were wide, and this was already a different direction than it. had ever gone last time, “What are you saying, Hyunjin?”

“I’m saying that…if we…really do this, there’s going to be a lot of…discretion. It’s probably going to be difficult and frustrating as fuck, and we’re both going to have to be really careful. Is that… really okay with you?”

You understood what Hyunjin was asking you. If you and him were to be together, it could only be a thing of secrecy.

It wouldn’t be a relationship you dreamed of. Nothing about it would be normal, or usual. It would only exist behind closed doors, and in storage closets, and in the privacy of your bedrooms. If you and him were to continue this…it would always have to stay a secret.

It would be hard to restrain your love for him, but in all honesty… you had done nothing else since you were fifteen and saw him in the art shop. You had loved him since then, and you could love him in any circumstance, even if it was in secret. Going back to not having him in your life was impossible. You leaned in to kiss him, to remind yourself of how real this was, and how much he was worth to you. An excitement bloomed in your chest from what was to come as you whispered against his lips, “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m good at keeping secrets.”

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :)

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love-toxin · 3 years ago

Text

shadysider sunshine

a/n: basically i rewatched the fear street trilogy and i could not resist writing this fic...

warnings: tommy slater x reader, camp counselor! reader, sunnyvaler! reader, pet names, "oh no there's only one shower" trope, kind of enemies to lovers but not really, shower sex, teasing, semi-public sex, bruising/hickies, unprotected sex, reader has an attitude, afab reader.

word count: 4k

"Dude, what are you doing here at this time of night?"

You want to be mad about it, but even the lilt of your voice betrays your own entertainment with the situation. The last person you would expect to find skulking around your cabin late at night is the same person you've locked eyes with, the younger campers that were once his comrades having shrieked and fled the scene upon being caught in the beam of your flashlight. After having your shower and traipsing all the way back towards your cabin, hair still wet and your legs cold from the cool air against your damp skin, you just wanted to relax--but it never seems to work out that way at Camp Nightwing.

Honestly, you're not even sure what to expect. It's not uncommon for the opposing teams, Shadyside and Sunnyvale, to play pranks on each other, but for the most part any counselor participation would be prohibited--especially when it's everyone's favourite heartthrob, Tommy Slater.

"You gonna egg my cabin, Shadysider? Cause if you are, you're gonna have to be a little sneakier than that."

His eyes widen and he looks around as if he hasn't already been caught red-handed, locks of light hair swinging about his face each time he turns his head. A quick glance down and he's got nothing in his hands, but that doesn't mean anything. As much as you hate to put the stereotype on people, especially kids, Shadysiders have a knack for getting into trouble with minimal effort.

"N-No! Uh, we weren't...I wasn't…"

Has he really not noticed that he's been left afloat? He takes a further look around and seems surprised at the fact that his little campers are all gone, no doubt having sprinted back to their cabins to keep from getting caught doing...whatever they were planning to do.

"Listen,"

He snaps to attention when you speak up again, in the midst of pulling your robe tighter around yourself. Even a blind man could see where his eyes fall when you do so, and as much as you don't want to encourage him, you just have to scoff and let a smirk work its way across your lips. How cute, trying to pretend he doesn't notice your current state of dress.

"I really don't give a shit, I just want to go to bed. Congrats on the colour war, Mr. Slater, and try to keep your campers out of my cabin."

You flick the flashlight off and pitch you both into relative darkness, with the moon being the only thing half-illuminating each of your faces. Honestly, you've spent the last hour or two comforting the disappointed Sunnyvale campers after their first loss, and Kurt's anguished cries of unfair play are still ringing in your ears. If nothing else, you just want one more good night of sleep before there's even more to contend with tomorrow.

"You can call me Tommy, y'know."

It hurts how naïve he sounds. He really is such a goody two shoes, but you can't even really get on his case for it. It's just the way it is, and you'll be the first to admit that there's certainly much worse ways to be.

"I know your name. I'm just messing with you, honey."

A soft "Oh," leaves his lips, and….God, he's hopeless. Who wouldn't know his name, his face, or that innocent look that makes you feel like you're staring into the eyes of a lost puppy? Many of your fellow Sunnyvalers like to mock you for extending an olive branch to the poor, misfit Shadysiders, but they really aren't that bad. Well, at least some of them aren't.

But jeez, you've never seen him so meek before. Tommy shifts his weight from foot to foot, and as far as you can tell in the dim light he looks like he's got something else to say. But he just can't seem to spit it out, and with a sigh at the tease of something interesting happening, you turn and flick your hair aside as you start taking steps back towards your cabin door. And just as you're in the midst of bidding your fellow counselor good night, with one hand set on your doorknob, you hear a shout of "Wait!" from just behind you and a force at your back that shoves you forward. Within seconds you're on the floorboards in the entryway of your cabin, flashlight rolled out of reach and dazed from the sudden push--and with a creak and a splattering sound you feel something splash all over the back of your legs, and you turn yourself around to see the carnage that lay between them.

There, with half his body in the doorway and the other half on the stairs where he's come crashing down, is Tommy--covered from head to ass in blue paint. The bucket is already in the process of rolling down said stairs, surely having been propped on top of your door to stain whoever was unlucky enough to open it, and despite being so bold as to shove you out of the way, he grimaces at the fury that's written clear as day on your face. You want to curse him out so fucking badly, want to kick his stupid pretty face in for letting those shit kids of his do this, but you're so annoyed already that the anger almost cancels itself out as you take a deep breath in. Almost.

"You're a dickhead."

Only then does he scramble to get up, stepping back to avoid getting more paint on your floor only to slip and fall backwards on to his ass. And despite being ever so courageous to save you from such a stupid prank, you groan as you look down and find splatters of blue paint all over not just your legs, but your robe and your hands too. And he's absolutely doused in it, hair soaked through and his clothes totally marred by the thick paint, little bastards must have mixed it with something else to make it stick. At the moment it's not even worth it to try mopping it off your floor and the stairs, you just get to your feet and slam the door behind you, punting the bucket all the way into the bushes as you stomp past Tommy and head right back towards the showers. Again.

"W-Wait-! I'm sorry, I really-"

"I don't wanna hear it, Shadysider!"

What you also don't want to hear is his footsteps hurrying towards you, and yet he's caught up in less than a minute and matches your pace as you head towards the building just across the field. If not for the snatches of lamplight catching your faces as you walk, you wouldn't have taken notice to the panic in his eyes that softens the anger a little bit….but not enough to make you stop.

"It wasn't meant for you, they thought it was Kurt's cabin, and I really thought it was! But it was dark, and I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, and….I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

You want to be mad. You seriously, desperately want to be mad enough that it none of it matters, that him hurrying to stand in your way and apologize makes no difference to you, and that the gentle grip he gets on your forearms to keep you focused on him doesn't make your heart flutter. Being touched by some guy, and a Shadyside one at that, shouldn't make you so weak, but it really does. The silence hangs heavy between you, nothing but the crickets and the sound of a warm breeze passing through the trees and rustling the leaves to pepper the quiet air.

"...Fine. It's fine. Now, can we just go wash this shit off?"

The paint dripping down his face can't hide the relief that passes over it, yet when he has the mind to let you go, a soft "Oops," falls from his mouth as you both glance down to see the palm prints he's left on you. It breaks the tension in a way, though, as you roll your eyes and pull him along as he chuckles, another apology coming out as the two of you approach the steps to the shower block and slip inside.

Lucky for you, for once, it's completely empty. The stalls sit open and the tiles dry, although it is pretty late at night and nearly all the campers should be asleep. But when you reach for the nearest one in a row of four to turn it on, your face falls and you groan for what feels like the hundredth time today.

"Of course. It's past midnight. Only one of them is on."

Whatever kind of water-preservation bullshit they wanna keep going with just exists to piss you off, evidently--Tommy kicks his shoes off and follows close behind as you test each one, before finally reaching the double-wide stall where the handle squeaks and out comes a hail of fresh, warm water.

"C'mon, I wanna get this over with. If we stand around it's gonna be harder to get off."

His first instinct upon you loosening the sash of your robe is to turn his head away, a hand coming up to block his vision even though you've already caught the red tinge rising to his cheeks, and the giddy smile that he can't quite wipe off his face.

"You sure?"

He says so with his eyes still averted, but the desire to sneak a peek is so strong you can feel it even just standing next to him. To you it's whatever, but it's obvious that this is his first time doing something like this--and as much as you want to laugh, you dim it to a smirk as you shrug your robe off your shoulders and toss it on the towel bench to your right.

"We'll just turn around. It's no big deal...what, you afraid?"

Stretching a hand out, you test the water to check the temperature, only distantly aware of the click of Tommy's belt behind you as he starts to undress. For some reason the sound stirs something within you, and you can't help biting your lip as you try to stifle the urge to turn around and look.

"As long as you don't mind sharing the water with a Shadysider."

Ooh, you can just feel the smirk on his pretty face as he teases you, finally seeming to come out of his shell the more he bares himself to you. He doesn't bother hanging up his sleeveless tank and his tight jeans, just tosses them in a heap on the bench for them to dry. They're probably ruined anyways, you can feel how thick the paint is as it dries on your skin, and you can only imagine how tough it's going to be to get it out of his hair. You try your best not to think of how he's gonna need help to do so, but you fail, just as expected.

"Just get in, dummy."

You can't help your smile either, and once the steam starts rising from the cold tiles, you finally step underneath the shower head and sigh at the feeling, the water like a warm blanket covering your body entirely and wrapping you in comfort you can't get anywhere else. At least, until Tommy's warmth shuffles closer and he sidles up behind you, his body so close that you swear you can hear his heartbeat from here. And if you really can, then it's thudding like the keys of a typewriter, so fast you pray he doesn't have a heart attack where he stands. But to say you aren't starting to feel the same would be a lie, a huge one.

With your backs turned, you let him lean back against you as he lifts his arms, no doubt scrubbing the semi-dried paint from his scalp and squeezing it out of his straight locks. And you can feel his muscles tense against you as he works away, so toned and firm but with soft skin stretched taut over each one. When you raise your leg and steady it against the wall to try to rub the stuff off, you can feel him pause just as you did, but this time it's because you've leaned over enough to press your ass into his. He'll get himself into trouble being so innocent like that, but you keep your mouth shut for his sake and scrub until all that remains against your skin has a light hue of blue, which you suppose you'll just have to wait awhile for it to completely go away. At least it's not as bad as your hero, who you can tell is struggling by the way he grunts and mutters a "Damn," under his breath as you're finishing up your other leg.

"Need a hand?"

He huffs a sigh, and turns his head to look over his shoulder at you--the streaks of blue running down between his eyes should be enough of a tell, and trying not to be too conspicuous about it, you shift yourselves so you're face to face, and eye to eye. It's like a silent competition, the eye contact intense but the threat of embarrassment for whoever looks down first even more so, but that's swiftly remedied by Tommy getting up closer so you're chest-to-chest. Which, of course, means your tits are now pressed up against him, but the goofy grin on his lips is too cute for you to be mad.

"Don't get excited, Shadysider. I'll be able to tell."

"Will you now?"

There's that cheeky tone, as if all his shyness has evaporated with the steam rising up all around you. You try to smother the heat that stirs in your belly because of it by reaching up and ruffling his hair with both hands, flicking little blue-tinted specks of water all over both of you and each of the walls. Once you've had your little giggle session together you feel the stress ebb away, and it grows more comfortable as you wash the paint away and watch it stream down his body with the running water, highlighting all those features that make the girls go crazy and the other guys jealous. Before long he's nearly back to normal, his hair as clean as you can get without shampoo and his body washed clear of any blue residue, and you're almost disappointed that you're done when the water starts running clear.

Or, maybe not, based on the growing stiffness against your thigh that's beckoning for your attention. Your gaze drops and finds his once again, his grin having shifted to teasing laughter as he realizes it too.

"Sorry, can't help it. You're just too pretty, sunshine."

Stupid, stupid, stupid heart, pounding so hard in your chest you can't even think straight. And him sliding his arms around you to hold you tight to his chest isn't helping, at least the pattering of water against your bodies might mask how stuttered your breathing has become, even though nothing can hide how both of you keep stealing glances at each other's lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

At this point, he doesn't even need to ask. Shadyside, Sunnyvale, who gives a fuck--you can't say no to that sweet face, so innocent on one hand yet with such intensity and lasciviousness in his eyes. You're the one who closes the distance between you, your breath stolen away by how unexpectedly soft his lips are. He's warm, unsurprisingly, and somehow you can feel gooseflesh on the back of your neck that prickles the hairs there, and sends a shiver racing down your spine that has you arching your back into his embrace.

And everything moves much faster after that. Tommy takes a step forwards and then another, and before you know it he's backed you up against the wall, hiking your leg up around his waist so there's nothing stopping you from each other. He makes his hands useful by feeling you up from the hips to your chest, and when he's got every inch committed to memory and you've hooked your other leg over his waist, he shifts you up once more so you won't fall and loops his arms under you to press his palms against the shower wall. And with nowhere better to put yours, you wrap them around his neck and lean into another kiss on the way, maybe just to make sure your moans are swallowed into his mouth when he finally starts to enter you.

For a supposed virgin boy, he really does make your head go blank and your limbs melt into jelly as he feeds every inch of himself inside you. And with nowhere to rest your feet to take the pressure off, you push your tongue past his lips and let his have free admission, just to try and stifle those noises that might just turn into screams of pleasure if you can't stop them. He's so thick you can barely wrap your mind around it, and your body can barely fit it--but he waits for you to start gushing like there's no other option, his playful chuckle like a mumble from his mouth to yours as he starts thrusting. Your defense mechanism certainly isn't lasting, however, since he breaks the kiss just to press his forehead to yours and gasp for air as the shower's rain pours down his back.

"What's my name, sunshine?"

The answer's ripped from your throat by a particularly hard buck, his cock so stiff that when it hits you as deep as it can go, all the air you can manage is sucked into your lungs and blown out in a moan so loud it rings in the empty shower block.

"Tommy! Tommy, Tommy!"

He nudges your face aside to bury his own into your neck, tonguing your sensitive skin before he scrapes his teeth along it and jolts when you clench around him as a result. And when you finally start to relax into the rhythm and grind your hips down to meet his, he steals your breath away again by sucking down hard, and leaving what you know will be a damn sore bruise behind that you'll have to scramble to hide tomorrow. That is, if you can even get out of bed, because at the moment you can't even feel your legs even as they're shaking and trembling as they hang over his hips, your pussy stretched to fit him and filled so deep you feel like a virgin born anew. And with each rock of his hips you can feel that end coming closer, like you're hurtling towards it with no way to fend it off so you can enjoy it a while longer. When it finally comes with one good, hard thrust that has his wiry little hairs rubbing up against your clit, the blinding heat that bursts inside you spreads to every limb of your body and leaves nothing but shivers behind. It feels like your veins are copper wire blazed through with an electric shock, and burned behind them to leave nothing but an empty warmth. And if Tommy wasn't still buried inside you, you would say it was quite empty indeed--but then he's scrambling to lift you off his cock, and when he's leaned you back against the wall on unsteady feet, he coaxes himself to his own end with his hand all over your stomach. It's mesmerizing to watch him, face twisted in pleasure as he milks himself dry like he's marking you, and once he's collapsed into your tired body with his chest heaving, you wonder if this isn't the first time he's cum to the idea of you.

For a while after that, it's quiet, save for the two of you breathing as you wait for it to go back to normal. After a few minutes of just holding you, he takes a step or two backwards and pulls you with him, standing you under the shower head so he can move you around and rinse you off like you did for him. Not just your belly covered in his cum, but the sweat and spit from your little romp too--he even spreads your legs apart and slips a finger inside you, making sure to lean away from the water spraying over you when he pulls it out, so he can slide it into his mouth and suck it clean with a goofy grin on his face.

"So,"

He breathes, the air warm against your damp skin as he reaches around you to shut the water off.

"You like the Shadysider experience?"

You press both palms to his chest to lean away as he laughs, diving in to pepper kisses to your face and your neck as you roll your eyes and kiss his forehead at the first chance.

"You're such a dork."

You can't even pretend to have any venom behind that. He's too earnest as he leans over to grab your robe, and only then seems to realize your newest predicament. His clothes are still covered in paint, and with how crusted and dry they are now, you doubt he would even be able to wrestle them apart from each other without ripping them. Unless he wants to streak across camp, you'll have to find another option.

"Here,"

Instead of letting him hand it over, you push the robe back into his hands, much to his surprise.

"Go back to my cabin, and grab me some clothes. I'll wait here."

The realization seems to cross his face, and as swiftly as he can manage with something definitely not his size, he ties it loosely and takes your face into those big, gentle hands.

"Be back soon, sunshine."

To be pulled into a kiss like this, brief but sweet and with a twinge of passion, you can't equate it to anything else. You watch as Tommy slips on his shoes, hurries out the door and heads towards your cabin, no doubt doing so in a rush so that you don't get chilly waiting for him in the airy building.

And as you stand there, bracing yourself against the cool breeze that parts the sticky summer heat, you wonder when you fell in love. Maybe it's not really love, but it could certainly turn into that soon, if things keep up as they are. You just can't wipe the smile from your face as you wait for him, eager to see his toothy grin as he rushes back to see you again, and it's a feeling unlike anything you've experienced so far. Your time has been short but the years have felt long, constantly filled with your Sunnyvale brethren not only mocking the Shadysiders to hell and back, but hounding you for pitying them and showing them some modicum of kindness.

At least, if nothing else, you can say that it's paid off. This moment is the happiest you've been in a long time, so much so that a tune makes its way to your lips and your humming echoes off the shower walls. Your mind wanders so contentedly that you don't even hear the creak of the door opening and closing, and only notice the presence when the sound of footsteps thudding towards you grabs your attention. They're quick at first but they slow as they get to you, and though a shiver runs through your body from nowhere, a soft whisper falls from your lips as a shadow casts itself across the floor in front of you.

"Tommy?"

#tommy slater #tommy slater x reader #fear street #fear street 1978

1K notes · View notes

s-brant · 3 years ago

Text

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺#I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’#also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years ago

Text

John Wayne

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Christmas lights and stunning dresses are enough to spark a desire for a winter romance. But could you have possibly gotten the wrong idea?

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: I might've listened too much to Cigarettes After Sex while writing and this is totally not a song inspired fic, born purely as a result of my procrastination with other projects

Tag list: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @harrysweasleys @loony-loopy-lupinn @whiz-bangs78 @slytherinsunrise @starlightweasley @ickle-ronniekins @gcdric @vivianweasley @aprilsrant @idont-knowrn @thisismynerdyself @wonderful-writer @feetoffthetablee @minty-malfoy @vogueweasley @elf-punk @oh-for-merlins-sake @heart-of-tempered-steel @spilled-prose @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads @pastanest | message me to be added/removed! (if you're in bold, I couldn't tag you)

You were staring at the crowded dance floor.

Beautiful ladies were being spun around by their partners, gorgeous gowns twirling and swooshing with their every elegant move. Everything was perfect about them; from their smile which lit up the Great hall more than the sparkling white Christmas trees, to the way their wrist gracefully twisted around their lover's neck, eyes piercing into theirs. The music was playing, slow and melancholic, exactly as it had been playing for the last few hours, luring lovers and encouraging them to bare their souls in front of each other.

And so they danced, connected by fearful desire, united by hope and bonded by love.

It was a kind of magic no one could truly understand, mysterious and private as though you weren't meant to witness it that night. So when among the sea of couples lips met in a silent oath, your heart began to ache, pleading you to leave.

It should have been you. It should have been you the receiver of those loving glances, of those kisses which made your head dizzy and caused your knees to buckle, but it would've been no problem as you would've had the arms of your lover to keep you secure. Then, as you'd dare to look up through your lashes, gorgeous eyes would be already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. And you'd simply fall, letting the warm, velvety darkness envelope you.

You flinched from the slight chill, rethinking your choice of a sleeveless dress. The enthusiasm with which you had picked it months ago now seemed utterly ridiculous and foolish as you were sitting a good distance away from where you believed you'd have been dancing your heart out. But, as you took one last look at your surroundings, only to spot your lovestruck friends indulging in the presence of their partners, the comfort of your pajamas seemed far more tempting than the unreasonably expensive piece of fabric which didn't even matter to you anymore.

It was pitifully funny how things could change in the blink of an eye, in a single breath; how fast you had gone from blooming with excitement to wondering how you were foolish enough to contribute to your own heartbreak.

"How come I'm just finding out about this?" Fred exclaimed, chasing after you down the stairs of the Astronomy tower. "I bet I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for those Ravenclaws chatting back in class."

"You were gonna know eventually, what's the deal?"

"My point is, why didn't you tell me and I had to hear from someone else?"

A group Hufflepuffs gave you questioning looks as you practically ran past them, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process, "You're making a fuss about nothing, stop acting entitled to every piece of information in my life!"

"McLaggen? That git?" Fred yelled in frustration and disbelief; he didn't at all acknowledge the small crowd which had gathered to observe the scene, nor did he care in the first place. He stopped in his tracks, gripping the wooden railing tight, knuckles turning white and jaw tense. "You cannot be serious."

Shocked faces now turned to you, and you desperately wished you could use reducio on yourself. Instead, opposite to what your consciousness was screaming at you, you dug your feet into the floor and shot Fred a stern look over your shoulder, "We're not discussing this right now. Besides, what's in it for you anyway? You're going with Angelina."

Had you kept walking, you would have missed the way Fred's chest was heaving with shallow, rapid breaths, and his face was more maroon than you had ever seen. And you? You couldn't quite breathe yourself.

A week ago your untamed happiness brightened every room and hallway; classes seemed to fly by, exams were over and the Yule ball was right around the corner. Your heart was ringing with joy as you were so looking forward to forgetting your troubles for just one night.

In the midst of shining Christmas decorations and beautiful dresses a dreamy, yet pretty bold idea had begun to form in your head, an idea which Ginny and Hermione encouraged with their support and affirmations. Deep down you had started to believe Fred Weasley took an interest in you, harboured feelings for you even, and your ever-present goofy banter which contained far more flirting than what would be acceptable between two best friends, only fed your imagination and raised your hopes up.

You were aware you were the only one on the receiving end of Fred's teasing jokes, cheesy pickup lines and lingering stares which had you staying up an extra hour in your bed at night. Even his siblings shared the same opinion - there was no way on Godric's sword that a person who clearly wanted to be around you as often as possible and got his hands on you every chance he could, wouldn't be at least a little bit interested in you.

That's why you nearly broke down when exactly a week ago in the hallway Ron casually mentioned his older brother had just asked out Angelina.

The ground was pulled beneath your feet, vanishing along with your oblivious hopes. The news stung sharply, leaving a sour taste in your mouth; never had you believed you’d spend the few days before the ball stitching up your heart, and you were willing to do just about anything to forget about your humiliation. So when McLaggen invited you with an obnoxiously flirty note in Charms class, you didn’t hesitate much.

You could feel a wave of tears burning your eyes as you looked up to where Fred was standing. His face and ears were still as red as they could get, and his chest was vibrating with every shaky breath he took. Fury had disappeared from his eyes long ago, replaced with concern, regret and hurt which you couldn't quite place.

He climbed down the few remaining stairs.

"He's obnoxious! And beyond what's good for you!" Fred stated, though his voice now lacked power and slightly trembled, loud enough just for you to hear. "You're setting yourself up for a pretty bad night."

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and finally turned around to fully face him, looking him up and down.

"Seems like I have a terrible taste in men then."

A second glass of firewhiskey did nothing to burn down the growing turmoil in your stomach. You tapped the edge of the empty glass with your fingers and smiled at your friends who were visibly exhausted from dancing to upbeat songs for quite awhile now, but enjoying their time far too much to take a break. You admired their spirit - just because you weren't feeling your best, it didn't mean your friends didn't have the right to have fun.

However, the inevitable sense of regret lingered in your bones, and you found it hard to not focus on how the ball had gone wrong for you, in more ways than you had originally thought.

Even without Fred as your date, there was still a chance you'd have a good time. McLaggen could undoubtedly make it awkward to be around, and with the fact that your heart had recently been sliced open, you weren't sure how much of his ridiculous antics you could take. But at least he was trying; if you put aside his overbearing ego, you could see genuine effort into creating something romantic for both of you. It was going to be okay. Not necessarily what you desired, but somehow okay.

And that last bit of hope vanished the second you caught your former date snogging your crush's date in an empty classroom merely an hour ago.

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the universe's bitter joke, but the tears on your face as you ran down the hallway in your beautiful dress were eloquent.

A bitter, bitter joke.

You couldn't take it anymore. The charming smiles, sultry glances and stolen kisses you had been observing for the past hour were too much. And when another slow song made an appearance, you rose to your feet and headed towards the tall doors of the exit. Perhaps sleep would be a decent ending to your horrendous night.

You had barely made it out of the Great hall when loud footsteps echoed on your right.

"Bloody hell, I've been looking for you!" Fred said through heavy breaths, having run all the way to you as it seemed. His ginger hair had escaped its slicked look long ago, now too messy to fix despite his numerous attempts to smooth it back. His suit was no better, slightly wrinkled and shirt open to the third button.

"Why have you?" you asked and folded your arms, feeling a bit chilly in the hallway.

"McLaggen. About him," Fred sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for having to say it, but I just saw him-"

"I know."

Fred frowned in confusion.

"You do?"

It was your turn to let out an exasperated sigh as you looked down at your feet, "Yes. A while ago."

Fred's features softened.

"I'm sorry."

You barely found it in you to respond with a weak smile, "It's alright. I guess I was right. I do have a terrible taste in men." Then you gave Fred a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry for Angelina too, it's horrible she did this to you."

Your friend allowed the ghost of a smirk to appear on his lips and he shoved hands into his pockets, "I'm not really affected by it in all honesty," he shrugged. "I'm rather angry about the fact that the prat thought he could pull off something like this and get away with it."

Fred's heart ached at the sight of your slumped figure and glossy eyes; he hated himself for having contributed to the failure of the event you were expecting with so much hope. He tilted his head to the side, attempting to meet your gaze.

"I'd gladly prank the crap outta the git until he doesn't even dare to show up to classes… But for now is there a way for me to make your night any less terrible, love?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the thought of McLaggen skipping classes out of sheer fear of Fred. But then your thoughts wandered to the way Angelina was practically straddling his lap, and you wondered if Fred had been doing the same all this time unbeknownst to you; if right after a flirty joke sent your way he'd go to an empty classroom and kiss Angelina with the passion you had just witnessed.

The image of Angelina's lips on Fred's caused you to become nauseous and you attempted to swallow down that lump again.

"No," you replied. "But please, tell me one thing. What was that entire tantrum for?"

Fred didn't really seem taken aback by your question, realizing you'd eventually bring it up. He furrowed a brow, carefully thinking of an answer, and wettened his lips.

“Perhaps it would be inappropriate of me to say it- selfish even, but the mere thought of you being in the embrace of someone, especially with that someone being a foul git, caused me to get unreasonably angry.” Guilt was seeping into his every word and he bitterly chuckled to himself. “Ironic, isn’t it? Attempting to spare you heartbreak by being the reason for it.”

He gently took your hand and looked into your eyes, remorse swimming in his own, "I had no right to treat you the way I did. I'm terribly sorry for being controlling and you absolutely do not have to forgive me. Just know that I truly regret my actions; I never intended to hurt you."

His words were a feather-light caress to your wounded heart and you shuddered. You couldn't stay mad at him. Reciprocated feelings or not, he was still your best friend and you wouldn't let that go.

"Apology accepted," you gave his hand a light squeeze and Fred beamed, the entire hallway lighting up with him. Dread released your chest of its merciless grasp and you could finally breathe. However, one question never ceased to haunt you. "But I just need to know…” you began, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, “...why were you so upset to begin with?"

Fred's shoulders immediately stiffened and he averted his gaze from you in an attempt to come up with a reasonable reply. His jaw was clenched, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I didn't want you to go with him." He stated simply. "Not when you could've easily gone with me instead."

You froze.

"What do you mean?” you asked timidly, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “What about Angelina?"

Fred only shook his head, fighting back a grin.

"Darling, Angelina was never the catch."

The air was knocked out of your lungs.

You could only stare at Fred wide-eyed, and though his expression was unreadable, maroon had begun to crawl its way up to his ears and cheeks again.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this," Fred spoke softly as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a kiss that awakened the butterflies within you. "I was really too much of a wuss to confess to you and settled for this instead."

"I guess that makes us two," you smiled sincerely, perhaps for the first time that night. Fred returned your smile with a grin, and asked.

"How can I make up to you for this oh-so-awful mess?"

"Dance with me," you said without skipping a beat. "That's what you owe me at least. Let's finally do what we both wanted."

Fred's expression became serious as he intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you into the direction of the Great hall, from which music could still faintly be heard.

"With the greatest of pleasure, my love."

Most people had already gone to bed, leaving just a few couples and you to drench in enchanted serenity. Fred's arms around you felt like home as you both swayed to the soft rhythm of the song, one of the many to follow, but his racing heartbeat under your palm caused your own pulse to speed up as well.

You looked up at your lover through your lashes, gorgeous eyes already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. There was an odd, enigmatic allure that Fred possessed, and even after years of knowing this man, it only caused you to fall further into the velvety hell you didn't wish to escape from.

And when his lips collided with yours, they tasted sweeter than the forbidden fruit.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #fred and george weasley

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the-pontiac-bandit · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still answering tortall prompts, how about Raoul + family?

wow why NOT write 2000 words of blatant, shameless fluff about families you make for yourself??? inspired by this quote from tammy: “[Raoul and Buri] have glorious sex under trees, in tents, in lakes…. In carriages. I think at some point they’ll probably adopt. By the time they’re attached Buri’s getting a little old to have any of her own. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of orphans around.”

As Raoul stretched out, trying to make himself comfortable in his too-hard, too-small desk chair, he savored the warm feeling filling his chest and threatening to spill out and take physical form in front of him. In the midst of the most head-spinning, headache-inducing, sleep-sapping, joy-filled week he’d ever experienced, he’d had precious little time to slow down and simply exist within his new reality. He thought to close his eyes, the better to feel everything, but they only stayed shut for a moment before they forced themselves back open. He couldn’t stop looking at the scene in front of him for long.

Buri lounged cross-legged on their bed, far more relaxed than he had been at any point this week. Kel sat next to her, her back straight and her long legs carefully hanging off one side so as not to get dust from the practice courts on their bedding. Both had just returned from a full morning of training, sweaty despite a change of clothes and coated in dust despite a thorough washing, courtesy of a long, hot summer that had refused to give them rain.

Between them was the baby.

His son, he reminded himself. He thought the words a few extra times, even mouthing them once, as he had a thousand times in the last five days, as if forming them on his lips might make them feel more real.

None of this felt real to him yet. He supposed most people had nine months to get used to the idea before seven pounds of screaming chaos turned their lives upside down. He’d had exactly fifty-three days—he’d counted on Tuesday—so he supposed he still had some catching up to do. His mind was still reeling from the conversation that had led them here, and he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever catch up.

He’d been sitting in this chair and pretending to read reports while mostly thinking about his right knee, which had been bothering him despite Duke Baird’s best efforts. He wasn’t sure why he remembered so specifically, since his days were nearly as certain to contain aches and bruises as they were to contain a sunrise. Buri had returned from a meeting with Thayet and Onua, although really, the word meeting conferred far too much dignity on what was more likely a combination of trick riding and palace gossip. They’d settled into the evening routine they’d shared for nearly a decade, working in comfortable silence with candles lit between them.

“Do you want children?” she’d asked, breaking the quiet spell of paperwork that gripped their nights.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he’d replied with a snort.

She’d thrown a pillow at him. He had caught it and thrown it back without even looking up from the thick stack of papers in his lap, with a rude hand gesture following behind.

“You know what I meant. Did you want children? Before?”

Something in her voice had shifted. He’d finally looked up to find her eyes already trained on him. Her face had been so unexpectedly earnest that he’d actually taken a pause, had slowed the speed of their consistently paced banter, to think.

“I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought. There were friends, and then there was drinking, and then there was the Own, and then there was you,” he’d told her with a shrug. “I do like children, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

She’d chewed on her lip for a moment. He remembered being surprised by that. After nearly thirty years of friendship, she rarely took the time to think before she spoke with him anymore.

“Spit it out.”

“Do you want children?”

“And we’re back to the start,” he’d said with a grin.

“I spat it out. Now you answer it.”

“Hypothetically, sure, I’d enjoy a child. Now can I ask why you’re asking at all?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she’d started. She’d paused for a moment, holding her breath as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak at all. And then she’d let it all spill out at once. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have one. A child, I mean.”

She’d held up a hand and made a face before Raoul could even begin to formulate a joke about her monthlies or her aching hips or what they might do to make that happen. “Not like that. Thayet was telling us today about homes they’re opening in Corus, for children without parents. We were thinking about the children we traveled with back in Sarain, when Alanna found us all those years ago. Gods, it was terrifying, having Thayet and an infant to protect, especially when Thayet was ready to throw her life away for the infant. And I started thinking—we have money, and safety, and love, and there are all these children who have none of those things, and—”

She’d been speaking faster and faster, but she’d cut herself off abruptly at the look on Raoul’s face. “Never mind, you can forget—”

Raoul had smiled back at her, straightening up in his chair and marking his spot in the report on his lap before putting it aside. “So you want a child.”

The weeks that followed had been ones filled with paperwork and inquiries at the palace records about the process of appointing a common-born heir to a noble house and at the magistrate’s about drawing up paperwork for adoption. There had been careful planning and hushed discussions with only their closest friends about the best way to proceed. Buri had insisted on an older child, maybe eight or nine, saying that the few diapers she’d changed on the road to Rachia were enough for a lifetime.

Instead, five days ago, Buri had entered their rooms carrying a squalling mess of blankets with an air of forced nonchalance that had told him immediately what she’d done. Instead of clarifying, or teasing her, or asking if it was the smallest eight-year-old he’d ever seen, he’d simply held his arms out. While Buri had supplied endless explanations about Thayet ambushing her with a baby, he’d stared at the squirming mess of baby in his lap, blankets already coming undone, absolutely entranced.

“He’s tiny,” he’d commented. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else’s body. The baby was only just too large for him to hold in one hand, although he’d never try to prove it. The fragility of the life sitting in his lap was overwhelming.

“His mother died yesterday. Childbed fever, caught too late to help. The priestesses at the Goddess’ Temple were worried he might need more than the homes could give.”

Raoul had nodded, only half listening. The baby’s eyes were screwed shut while he wailed. His fine hair was dark, his skin tanned like that of the Bazhir babies Raoul had seen in his year in the Great Southern Desert. One of the baby’s hands had broken free of its blanket. It had waved in the air, keeping pace with his cries, which were far louder than he’d have believed such a tiny body could produce. He’d intercepted the hand with one finger and then watched in wonder as the baby had grasped it.

“Does he have a name?”

“Pathom,” she’d answered definitively, before belatedly remembering that names were the sort of thing parents might choose together. “That is, if—”

“Pathom of Goldenlake,” he’d cut her off with a smile.

The days that followed had been a blur. Thayet had found a wet-nurse and supplied an endless stream of goods that they’d have never known a baby required. Alanna had ridden in from Pirate’s Swoop at full speed to pronounce in a gruff voice that the infant was in perfect health. Gary had gifted them a bassinet and more blankets than any human child could possibly need. Dom had found a way to convert a standard-issue burnoose into an excellent baby sling, while Evin had given them a congratulatory note from George, who complained that Alanna had left before he could finish writing, and a cheerful promise that he’d never touch a soiled diaper. Onua had given them a set of unimaginably soft stuffed ponies, perfect replicas of the horses that roamed the highlands of Sarain where she and Buri had learned to ride.

Kel, away on business with Second Company at the Gallan border, had to wait almost a full week to learn she had a new godsson. He’d met the company when they’d arrived back at the palace long past dark the night before. They’d groomed Hoshi and Sparrow together while he thanked the gods for perhaps the hundredth time that her “testy pony” had finally found his way out of the Own stables and into a pleasant retirement.

Finally, when the last of the men had trudged towards the barracks and a well-earned nights’ sleep, she’d turned to him.

“Well?”

“There’s someone important I want you to meet,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile that was equal parts nervous and eager.

“Sir, I’ve already met your wife.”

Raoul had let out a hearty chuckle. “But you haven’t met my son.”

Kel had frozen. Her face fell back into perfect stillness, the way it did when her mind was working its fastest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Sir, I saw Buri five weeks ago. If you’re telling me you’ve managed to grow a baby since then—”

“We didn’t, but someone else did. We adopted him from the Temple after his mother died in childbirth.”

Understanding flashed in Kel’s eyes while her face broke into a rare broad grin. She’d wrapped her arms around him in a fast, tight hug accompanied by enthusiastic congratulations that had gone suddenly silent in surprise when he’d added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “You really should come by tomorrow to meet your godsson.”

Buri had intercepted Kel on the practice courts the following morning with the dual goals of keeping her own skills sharp and ensuring that Kel would not be too polite to visit. And so now, he watched as Kel bounced his son with the brisk certainty of someone who had held a baby a thousand times. He could hear her cooing quietly at Pathom, softening her consonants while she told him all about forest campaigns in hill country. He knew he should ask her to speak up—if she was going to give her report verbally, she could at least give it at a volume he could hear—but he found he wasn’t particularly interested in the intricacies of the Second’s bowstring supplies. Buri made eye contact with him behind Kel’s back, laughter in her eyes. Buri could laugh if she wanted, but he was taking notes on Kel’s tactics. He would have sworn this was the quietest he’d heard his son in the entirety of his hundred-and-twenty-odd hours in the palace.

As his son stared wide-eyed at his former squire, Raoul was reminded of a comment he’d heard as they’d left Turomot’s offices the other day with paperwork making Pathom officially their own. “Well, that feckless Goldenlake dolt’s managed to start a family, even if it was too late to do the thing properly,” the Lord of Genlith had muttered at their backs as they’d left. Buri had elbowed him and whispered a quick “Feckless? I’ll show him feckless,” but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she’d even finished the thought, her eyes were back on Pathom, squirming against her chest in the burnoose that bound him to her.

And now, Raoul watched his son, passed between his wife and the woman who had been like his daughter long before any papers said he was a father. Stuffed Saren ponies lined the shelf above an intricately carved bassinet filled with beautifully embroidered blankets. A protection charm had been pulled from Alanna’s packs to hang at the head, while twin leather circles bearing the insignias of the Riders and the Own, no doubt carefully cut by mischievous commanders from the saddle packs of some unprepared trainees, was secured carefully at the foot. Raoul had to smile for a moment at Genlith’s ignorance—he’d begun his family right on time.

#carrie answers #my writing #anonymous #raoul of goldenlake and malorie's peak #raoul of goldenlake #buriram tourakom #tortall #tamora pierce #protector of the small #keladry of mindelan #okay we've got all the found family shit in here #the friends? check #the surrogate daughter? check #adoption? check #also who said a baby can't have three godsmothers definitely not buri and raoul #also on ao3

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euphoricdumpsterfire · 4 years ago

Text

It Was Enchanting To Meet You (Edmund Pevensie x Mutant!FemReader)

Chapter V: The Lake

Summary: Edmund and Y/N are on the way to look for a mysterious cottage. They stopped by a lake where they meet some mermaids. Jealous of Y/N’s presence, they orchestrated a plan that brings one of Y/N’s nightmares to life.

Masterlist

Word count: 1397

Warnings: being underwater and nearly drowning, minor injuries, (let me know if there's anything else I missed!)

A/N: There’s going to be a scene that’s heavily inspired by Tangled and a surprise cameo from a certain marvel witch! (Also I know this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but I had so many things to do I didn't have the time but here it is!)

"So where exactly are we going?" Y/N asked as she struggled to walk through tall shrubs in the forest,

"I dunno, Susan mentioned this cottage that magically showed up apparently. The Beavers were the ones who actually saw it, they were frolicking in the woods, saw the cottage and felt something was off because they've never seen it before. Mrs. Beaver said there was a sound of an explosion and purple smoke came out of the chimney." Edmund answered,

"Do you think it's..." Y/N said in a quiet voice, "Her?" implying that it may have been the white witch.

"We won't know until we find out." He answered and they continued to walk through the woods. They had been walking for hours and eventually felt tired. Y/N saw a lake not too far from where they stood and had suggested to take a break and get some water. Once they got to the lake, they sat on the ground to fill up their containers with water. The lake's water was the clearest of blue and it sparkled with the sun's reflection.

"This is actually good, I've never really gone to the great outdoors since forever." Y/N said as she looked up at the sky,

"You've never gone to a lake?" Edmund chuckled in disbelief,

"Only once and it was for a school field trip. After that, I've only just been in the city, and eventually stuck in my professor's mansion." she answered.

Edmund stood up and reached out his hand towards Y/N, "Get up." he said,

"Why?"

"Just get up and come with me." He said. Y/N grabbed his hand and got up, he led him to where the ground and water met. "Now, close your eyes." he said and Y/N shut her eyes closed, nervous with what's about to happen. Suddenly she felt a splash of water hit her face, making her jump in shock.

"Ed!" Y/N yelled and splashed water towards him for revenge. They continued to play in the water until they were soaking wet, they were laughing and having fun until they heard a voice.

"Hello there." A young woman with strawberry blonde hair and rose colored eyes emerged from the waters startling both Edmund and Y/N.

"Whoa... Are you a mermaid?!" Y/N exclaimed,

"As a matter of fact, I am." The mermaid answered as she lifted up her tail that matched the color of her eyes, and a bunch of other mermaids started to emerge as well. The mermaid took a look at Edmund and swam closer to the edge, "You must be King Edmund the just. What brings you here?" she said while batting her eyelashes,

"We're in search of this cottage that apparently showed up in the middle of the woods, perhaps you've seen someone who happens to be the owner of the cottage?" Edmund asked,

"I've never seen such a thing..." the mermaid answered, her eyes moved towards Y/N her expression turning cold, "And who are you?" she asked in a very rude manner which confused Y/N.

"I'm Y/N Y/LN." she answered

"I'm assuming that you're the king's servant?" the mermaid shot back,

"She's not a servant," Edmund answered, "She's actually an important guest that came from a far away land." Suddenly the mermaid's rude expression eerily changed into a charming smile and pointed to her right,

"You must come, your highness, my sister is about to play a very special song with her flute." She said and the music can be heard very clearly despite the source of the sound being very far from where they were. Without hesitation, Edmund followed the sound and when Y/N was about to follow him, other mermaids grabbed onto her leg. She screamed in agony as one of the mermaid's nails pierced through the skin of her leg, thus crimson red blood trailed down to her feet.

"Edmund! Ed!" Y/N yelled, Edmund turned around but the mermaids had already dragged her into the deepest part of the lake. She kept her eyes open, she kept resisting and tried to get back to the surface. It was then she realized she felt a sense of deja vu. This was exactly how one of her nightmares turned out and it immediately ensued more panic.

Edmund jumped into the lake chasing after Y/N who, by luck, got away from the hands of the mermaids. However, one of them aimed a trident towards Y/N. She saw the mermaid throw the trident and her hands glowed dark navy blue and she extended her arms out, directed toward where the mermaids were and a beam of light hit them, pushing them to the bottom of the lake.

With the trident still moving swiftly towards Y/N's direction, she quickly moved away. However, Edmund was in the midst of swimming to Y/N when the pointy ends of the trident cut his hand. Y/N saw this and swam to his direction, grabbed his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders while her arm encircled on his back as they swam to the surface.

They both sat on the ground, panting and still trying to process what had just happened. “Are you alright?” Y/N asked Edmund as she looked at his bleeding hand.

“I should be asking you that question.” Edmund replied,

“I’m all good. It’s just that, I didn’t expect that one of my nightmares are caused by jealous mermaids.” Y/N said making Edmund chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have followed the mermaids.” Edmund says solemnly,

“You really shouldn’t blame yourself, though I think it's a good idea to put a huge sign that says "Warning: Dangerous Mermaids" just for safety .” Y/N replied and Edmund laughed.

She looked over at his hand once again and said, “May I?” Edmund hesitantly moved his hand towards her to which she held. Deep blue light radiated from her hands as the wound healed itself.

“There, you're all healed up!” Y/N smiled while still holding his hand,

“Thank you.” Edmund said as he smiled.

Their faces were just inches away, both looked into each other's eyes and their stomachs filled with butterflies. But their attention gets pulled away as they hear a faint voice of a woman humming a lullaby. The lullaby that Y/N had been humming the other night. “Do you hear that?” Edmund asked,

“Yeah, and I’ve been hearing that voice since the other night.” Y/N stood up and tried to figure out which direction the voice was coming from. “I think it’s coming from the west, it might be from the cottage.”

Edmund got up and said “Let’s go.”

As they continued to head west with Y/N in the lead, the humming became louder and clearer. "I see it!" Y/N exclaimed and they both ran towards a small cottage with purple smoke coming out of its chimney, exactly how the Beavers described it. They stood outside the door, Edmund moving forward and instinctively stood in front of Y/N to shield her. He knocked on the door and it immediately swung open, startling the two. A woman with dark wavy hair, wearing the darkest blue dress with a purple shawl, and a small brooch placed on her chest stood right in front of them while cradling a rabbit in her arms.

"Hiya kids!" She said in the most comical way reminding Y/N of how the women in sitcoms would talk. Edmund and Y/N stood frozen, confused almost, and never said a word. "Well don't keep me waiting! Get in here!" The woman motioned with her arm to let the two inside but there was no movement. "Oh of course where are my manners!" The woman cackled and cleared her throat, "The name's Agatha Harkness, lovely to finally meet you guys." She smiled as she petted her rabbit, her eyes darted at Y/N making Edmund stretch out his arm to shield her.

"You finally found me." Agatha said directly to Y/N, "I've been trying to communicate with you for the past few days, my throat's been sore from all the humming!" She chuckled.

"How did you know that lullaby?" Y/N asked,

"Why dear, I was the one who sang it to you when you were little!" She said confidently.

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niawritess · 4 years ago

Text

The Lovestruck~Chapter 11

(5 December Sunday)

10:30 am

Sunday, your favorite day from the week where you sleep till noon without worrying about your college and your mom nagging you to get up early. However, here you are at the Café, standing behind the counter with Rose and Ria beside you staring at the person which you three have been longing to meet.

Song Joongki, AKA The Big Boss, your favorite actor was seated by the window table filming his advertisement as today was the D-DAY.

"O my god! He's so handsome in person!" Ria exclaimed, squealing while linking her arms around yours and you also smiled squealing silently whilst nodding at her remark.

"Thank you so much Rose for letting me be here to witness this wonderful scene." She clasped her hands staring at him with sparkling eyes and Rose chuckled at her while you rolled your eyes at her dramatic acting.

"In that case, you should thank your best friend as she was the one who requested for you." Rose smiled pointing with her chin to you and you gave your bestfriend a smug grin as she glanced at you.

"Y/n, you are the best!" She side hugged you and you cringed at her behavior before she looked at you still holding you.

"I'll always be at your service." She gave a cute smile causing you smirk as you looked at her and Ria got the message as she let go of you standing straight.

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, I take that back."

"No, you can't. You'll be at my service." You smirked folding your arms to your chest and she sighed defeated while rose giggled at you both.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun who had his back leaned against the counter watching you smiling and squealing at the man wasn't liking it a bit. He folded his arms to his chest while squinting eyes at him feeling frustrated at the sight, at the same time unknown and confused to this new sensation he was feeling.

"What so great about him?" He muttered annoyed and wondering why didn't he just skip today but couldn't as he wanted to see you, god knows why.

"I know right."

He jumped by the sudden voice beside him and tilted his head to the side to see Jack eyeing Song Joongki then to Rose making Baekhyun smirk at his jealous state not realizing he was feeling same.

"Oh! He is looking here!" Rose jolted making both males head whipped towards them.

"OMG!"

You and Ria squealed together as his eyes roamed around then stopping at the counter and he looked at Rose smilingly then to Ria who almost screamed as she squeezed your arm and lastly to you making your heart skip a beat.

You snapped out and were about to smile back but a broad back came in to your sight preventing you to do it as your tiny figure hid behind.

"What are you doing?" You tilted your head to look at Baekhyun frowning as he looked over his shoulder to see your puzzled face before he looked at Rose and Ria who were staring at him with the same expression as yours.

"Oh, Jack and I wanted to drink coffee." He answered proceeding to get the cups and you three nodded as he walked away from there with a satisfied grin on his face as if he won a mission.

***

11:32 am

It's been half an hour since the shoot ended and everybody went home except Ria and Jack. Rose and Jack had to discuss something related to contract so they were seated at the corner table whilst you and Ria were were sitting beside each other with Baekhyun across of you by the window.

"This picture came out so good!" Ria exclaimed staring at the picture which you three fangirls took with Song Joongki earlier before uploading it on her Instagram.

Ria took a sip of her coffee before glancing at Baekhyun who was staring at you without you knowing causing Ria's lips to curve into a smirk as her ship was sailing.

"Baekhyun sunbae?"

Baekhyun's head instantly jolted towards her and you also looked at her before she broke out in a shy grin.

"I wanted to ask if I can add you on my insta so I can tag you?" She asked hesitantly which you could see in her eyes causing you look at Baekhyun expectantly.

"Sure." Baekhyun immediately answered fishing out his phone and you smiled as you saw your bestfriend smiling in relief as you remembered how she awkward she got when locked eyes with him but seeing them getting along well, you felt happy.

"Y/n, tell me yours too." Baekhyun asked snapping you out of your trance and you looked at him with doe eyes.

"I will send her username to you but you won't find anything interesting since she just likes to explore." Ria told nonchalantly and you shot a glare at her.

"You know what's more interesting?" You uttered lowly gritting your teeth as she glanced at you. "My punch."

Baekhyun chuckled lowly shaking his head while Ria ignored your warning and shifted her eyes back to her phone screen.

"Woah y/n!" She exclaimed making you and Baekhyun flinch by her loud tone before she pushed her phone infront of you.

"Look at the comments." She scrolled through the comments. "So many guys are asking about you saying you are so pretty."

"The girl with the ponytail looks cute." Ria read the comment loud enough for Baekhyun to hear which she purposely wanted him to hear it.

Hearing this, Baekhyun's eyes widen as he immediately sat straight with his fingers gripping the coffee mug tightly as a sudden rage rushed inside him.

Your eyes widened hearing upon that and you don't know why, you immediately looked at Baekhyun who was already staring at you but then looked away before you glanced back at Ria with a dirty face.

"Block him." You spat before taking a sip of your orange juice and Baekhyun looked back at you before looking away as a smile crept on his lips which got unnoticed by you.

"You're just allergic to compliments." She retorted rolling her eyes before her phone buzzed and she excused herself out to answer the call leaving you and Baekhyun alone.

A silence followed between which you both found comfortable with stealing glances at eachother before Baekhyun decided to break it.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

Your head jerked up at him and you nodded giving him sheepish grin. "Yes, and I'm sorry for sleeping in the midst of talking."

He chuckled shaking his head. "No worries, at least you slept well."

You smiled. "Thanks to you, but I really don't do that though."

He hummed nodding. "But you did it to me."

"I said sorry though." You mumbled feeling guilty with your lips forming into a pout without you knowing and Baekhyun smiled at how cute you looked.

He laughed lightly. "I'm kidding, just teasing you."

You looked at him frowning. "You're always teasing me."

He just shrugged grinning cutely. "I can't help it, You're fun to tease with."

You sniffled before looking away from him wondering if he's like that to every girl and that thought somewhat made you feel weird inside.

"Are you going home alone? Should I give you a ride?"

You snapped out and looked at Baekhyun who was giving you a question look before you shook your head.

"No, it's alright. Ria and I are going to my home since we have a doctors appointment for dan."

He nodded. "Yeah, he told me."

You brows knitted. "He told you?"

"Eung, I called him to ask about his foot and he told me."

"Wait, so you have dan's number? Since when?"

"Since the day we met." He replied nonchalantly.

You leaned back on your chair amazed. "It's strange how he's took a liking to you this instant which is new to me, I don't even know why he likes you so much."

"Why don't you find out then?" He leaned forward placing his arms on the chair staring at you with a teasing smile causing your heart skip a beat before you bit your lip, letting out a out a nervous laugh.

"What's taking her so long?" You shifted your eyes outside, taking a sip from your orange juice calming your heart and Baekhyun couldn't help but smile at your flustered state as you seemed adorable yet innocent.

***

8:36 pm

"So, how is it going?" Jongdae questioned Baekhyun who's eyes were glued to the TV screen and the remote control in his hand as he was having a duel with sehun.

His brows arched. "Hm? What are you talking about?"

"Hyung, he meant your girl." Sehun intruded earning a glare from the latter and Jongdae nodded.

"She is not my girl, how many times I have told you and there's nothing going on. We're just friends." Baekhyun told them eyes still glued on the screen with his fingers taping the controller rapidly.

"Are you sure you both are just friends? Then can I talk to her? She seems cute though." Jongin wriggled his eyebrows getting a smack in return causing him wince in pain as he rubbed his arm while pouting.

"Why are you hitting him?" Junmyeon sat opposite of him drinking his water. "We're just asking what we see."

Baekhyun's brows knitted. "What do you mean? What do you see?"

"That how you're always smiling when you come back from work." Minseok remarked causing Baekhyun to tilt his head to him confused then back to the game.

"What's so surprising about that? Ain't I always like that?"

"You are but around us." Chanyeol uttered out of nowhere giving the latter scare before he plopped himself beside him staring at him.

"We have never seen you this open to any girl not even Somi, you know." He added getting Baekhyun's attention but he couldn't utter anything as he felt himself thinking about it.

"Okay, leave that. Tell me how's she like?" Yixing spoke making Baekhyun look at him perplexed.

"I mean, we have seen her but we've never really talked to her. So how's she like?" He added and Baekhyun somehow felt a little nervous for the first time talking about you.

He sighed licking his lips. "At first I thought that she's just an ordinary girl who's my co-worker, but when we started talking I got to know how innocent and pure she is."

"More than that her mind is so beautiful." He trailed off his lips forming into a smile. "She's like way different and down to earth girl."

"Oohhhh~~" Boys chorused together making the latter groan in annoyance and regretting telling them.

"Lover boy is in love!" Jongdae exclaimed loudly and baekhyun threw a glare at him before shaking his head while shifting his eyes to the game.

"Honestly, I don't know if it's really that feeling or just attraction." He rolled his tongue over his lips and the boys nodded, understanding his confusion.

"Figure it out before it's too late." Everyone turned their head to Kyungsoo who spoke the most important thing and Baekhyun sighed nodding.

"YESSS! I WON!" Sehun exclaimed making everyone startle by his outburst before Baekhyun's jaw dropped at the sight of him losing.

"NOOO!"

"Heol! Daebak! Baekhyunee hyung lost first time because of a girl!" Jongin yelled laughing getting a pillow thrown on his face by Baekhyun.

"Shut up!"

"Achoo!" You groaned sniffling before proceeding your way to the kitchen. "Who the hell is bad-mouthing me?"

_______________

@wooya1224 @buttercupbbh

#bbh #exo fanfiction #exo ff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun gifs #baekhyun imagines #baekhyun #baekhyun x reader

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talesofthepinktape · 6 months ago

Text

Oh my gosh, just know that your comment literally had me grinning for HOURS!!! I had to keep myself from smiling too wide at work, or else I'd look weird to customers just grinning down at my phone lol.

Thank you!!!! I'm proud of myself to be honest, I think 8k is the most I've written for a fic so far, and it sounds like I did an alright job with it! LOL. But yeah, I'm just so happy that you like it, tbh. I was worried that it wasn't actually any good so your praise is very soothing to me <3.

Yeah, what I really wanted to illustrate with Daiyu's family is the idea that they all genuinely love and care for her, but they also failed her (mainly her parents to be honest.) And I'd like to think I kinda showed that with that interaction: Dongmei tries to soothe and reassure her daughter, but ends up helping to plant an unhealthy idea in her head. In general, there's the obvious tragedy that comes with a loved one deliberately hurting another, but I also think there's another in which a loved one TRIES to help another and ends up making things worse.

And thank youuuu, I will say that Jiaying and Daiyu's sisterly dynamic ended up being friendlier in this fic than what I envisioned for their show dynamic lol. But I feel happy with it, in some ways as I was writing I realized I kind of wanted to portray Jiaying as being more well-adjusted than Daiyu but still having her emotional/mental health struggles. In this, it was going through grieving Lu Ten and ended up expressing her grief in the worst case imaginable (her violence towards Daiyu.)

And I could chat more with you later, but essentially my idea for them was that in Book One, Zhao was Zuko's personal antagonist. Jiaying would be Daiyu's (but I also still imagined them to reconcile later (spoiler??), so more like her antagonist for Book One and then reconciliation in the later Books.)

I kinda patted myself on the back for the Master Tao line lollll. Crazy thing is, Master Tao was never an explicit part of my outline. I had it put down as a MAYBE to include a line about her parents referencing someone else with the same duty (and then the internal bit about said someone struggling), but the idea of Master Tao specifically as Iroh and Ozai's caretaker and that line was something I came up with in the midst of writing. And yeah, she really is a baby :((((. Writing this just made me even happier to know she eventually gets the Gaang as her found family!

Yet again, the recounting of her ages thing is something else I was proud of. I was actually trying to stick close to the ages given to us in the show (or at least in supplementary material.) Daiyu is the same age as Azula, and both are two years younger than Zuko. So, I hope I make sense here lol, I was trying to make sure her age lined up with the other Fire Nation kiddos ages in the flashbacks. Me adding in the specific lines about her ages was, again as a little "behind the scenes" fact, was something I thought of in the middle of writing. I'm glad it was so impactful <3333.

I honestly LOVED writing for Ozai, he's SUCH a piece of shit but it's why I loved writing him lol. But yeah, he's suchhhh a cruel and awful person. This is also the part where you're smarter than me, because I admittedly didn't think of Ozai asking her parents as a cruel thing... I really did just think it was because he wanted to get their approval like signing off a field trip 000000.00000 But, ummmm, we're just gonna go with your interpretation because it's crueler and more fitting with Ozai's characterization lol.

Man, now that you point it out the sheer TRAGEDY of the Songs would be fitting in a Shakespearan play or something lol. Like, the parents indeed agreeing to send her away for her safety only to get no guarantee she'll have that... and this action meaning to protect her just leading to BOTH of their daughters being out of their grasp <<<<///3333. The entire idea of how their dedications to duty ends up stifling and ruining other parts of their life <<//33.

I KNEW you were gonna love the Uncle Iroh bit and tbh part of the reason why I included him was because I knew you'd love it!!! But I also wanted to leave off on somewhat of a light note... I meant for the fic to be a bit darker but not quite as heavy as it ended up being lol. I wanted some form of comfort, and I feel as though there's no better form of comfort than Uncle Iroh!!

It really does make me so happy to see that you love her so much 😭😭. I'm glad you're able to feel that attachment to her... hopefully it means I'm doing something right.

Honestly, I've always felt like sometimes as a writer that I do well at coming up with interesting ideas but struggling with executing it... I hope I didn't fall into that here.

And I also have more info on Daiyu's family that I might send over tonight, if that's okay?? Just some more details on them and their backgrounds <3.

Duty

Context: another one-shot about my ATLA OC, Daiyu. It talks more about her background, specifically with her parents and her older sister.

Word count: 8,348 words

WARNINGS: child neglect and mistreatment. Abuse of power and a brief instance of child abuse from a character named Lady Hana. Ozai being Ozai. Semi-graphic mention of self-harm (I don't think it's too graphic, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.) Brief moments of swearing and anger. Implied alcoholism in a background character. Daiyu's family don't mean to suck but they still end up failing Daiyu more often than not. I think that's it, I'll add more if needed. Obligiatory note for my bad writing, also didn't really edit ooopppsss.

At one point, there had been sweetness in her family.

Admittedly, the memories were ones that she’d have to squint and scratch at to unveil. Regardless, after some prying she could vaguely remember it—her father’s tender hugs, her mother’s goodnight kisses to her head, her sister’s soothingly rubbing at her shoulders during tense moments.

Of course, the sweet gestures were always saved for behind closed doors—it wasn’t expected (or, more appropriately, approved of) to see a family with a reputation like hers to be as weak as showing affection.

How would the court react to her father General Zhulong, Prince Ozai’s childhood best friend and most trusted advisor, picking up his daughter and swinging her around in a hug? How would it appear if her mother Lady Dongmei, Fire Lord Azulon’s handpicked bodyguard for both of his sons, stepped out from her post to greet and coo at her children? No, no, it simply wouldn’t do.

This duty was just simply expected of her family. The Song family—the family that produced generation after generation of skilled firebenders, and highly believed to be the ones to invent lightning bending. Since the beginning of the Fire Nation, they’d faithfully served the Crown and done whatever they’d asked. Daiyu’s grandmother had been Fire Lord Azulon’s most trusted advisor before her passing. Daiyu’s mother was, as mentioned prior, the fierce bodyguard of both Princes and had been assigned that at a young age. Even her father, after clawing his way up from peasantry and impressing the court, had no issue fitting in with the family code of service. It hadn’t ever been an issue with him—being loyal to Prince Ozai, his friend since saving the prince from a mugging and fighting off thieves together, came naturally to General Zhulong.

Daiyu longed to be like them. To be seen as loyal and dutiful and honorable. And if following her family’s code of inconsistent kindness would help her, if wearing that emotionless mask would get her on the path, then so be it.

And maybe sometimes discomfort would gnaw at the edges of Daiyu’s mind as she watched her friends be so openly… comfortable with their families. Whether it be Ty Lee openly crying out with joy and running to greet her parents or Zuko being attached to his mother’s hip; whether it was even Azula basking in Ozai’s praise or Mai receiving a kiss on the head from her father, Daiyu learned to push down the longing so adjust the carefully practiced mask.

(“Why can’t we be more like Ty Lee and her family?” Daiyu could remember asking one night through a pout.

“Oh my sweetling, I’m so sorry,” her mother murmured, eyebrows knit with sadness, “We just can’t allow ourselves to show that kind of… weakness.” Dongmei grimaced at the final word, though Daiyu hadn’t noticed.

Instead, the four-year-old simply gazed down at her blanket and uttered out, “Oh.”

Dongmei’s shoulders slumped as she gazed down at her youngest. She took a deep breath before leaning in, capturing Daiyu’s attention as she stroked her daughter’s hair, “But just know, that your father and I love you and Jiaying very much. More than anything.”

Daiyu nodded, eyes brightening just slightly. Dongmei smiled softly, lips quivering in the subtlest fashion as she ducked down to press a tender kiss to Daiyu’s head. Maybe Dongmei would hope that Daiyu would remember from their conversation the declaration of love, the sweet kiss to her temple, the silent vow of devotion. But in reality all Daiyu would recall were those fateful words—

“We just can’t allow ourselves to show that kind of… weakness.”)

***

While her parents were bound by duty, her older sister Jiaying had less qualms with bending the rules. Zhulong and Dongmei kept their spines straight and gazes stoic, while Jiaying strutted about with the cocky swagger of a confident youth wherever she pleased.

Jiaying was ten years older than Daiyu—at this point, fifteen to Daiyu’s tender age of five. Jiaying was a firebending protégé, and quickly getting the hang of lightning bending—yet another member of the Song family to be a master of her element.

They didn’t have a whole lot in common—their ages, their personalities, and even who was or wasn’t a bender were all different between the two. It sometimes showed, in Jiaying’s stalling to find something to discuss with Daiyu, or in Daiyu’s awkward shuffling to approach her sister in public. Yet, they loved each other—and unlike their parents, Jiaying wasn’t afraid to be open about it.

Whereas Zhulong could be relied on for an approving nod and Dongmei for the smallest of smiles, Jiaying was much more blatant. She made it a point to greet her baby sister with a high five or a hug, and always tagging on an affectionate nickname at the end of her greetings. Jiaying took Daiyu with her everywhere—to her training sessions, to her adventures down to the market, and sometimes even to her visits with Jiaying’s betrothed, Prince Lu Ten.

Of course, Jiaying had a side of her that most older siblings did—a teasing side. She loved to pull pranks on Daiyu, whether in public or in private. Daiyu would always have to hold back tears when her sister tripped her in front of all the nobles or brought up embarrassing stories in front of Jiaying’s firebending peers, but she just remembered her mother’s words and straightened her spine like her parents did.

And sometimes Jiaying would go too far. Sometimes she’d say the wrong thing or be too harsh in her jokes, and Daiyu would have to excuse herself before going off to cry in the closest private room. On those days, her parents would scold Jiaying in the privacy of their home. And Jiaying would always end up slinking into Daiyu’s room with a treat or a toy in her hands and an apology on her lips. Daiyu would forgive her sister, and they’d spend the rest of the night talking—or, however long it took for Daiyu to fall asleep.

Daiyu was five at that point, and had learned a routine: her parents would gift her and Jiaying the subtlest forms of affection in public. And in private affection couldn’t be guaranteed either—what with how busy their roles kept them—but you could always count on comforting cuddles and kind words when they were around. But Jiaying was a blinding sun, and marched to the beat of her own drum—she’d hug Daiyu, encourage her, and prank her whenever and wherever she pleased.

And Daiyu didn’t know a whole lot at her tender age, but at that moment it felt like enough.

***

Daiyu was six when she was assigned caretaker of Prince Zuko and Princess Azula.

To the Fire Nation officials, she was the perfect choice—a member of the Song family, one of the Fire Nation’s most influential and powerful families, continuing their direct service to the Crown was appropriate. Her father carried this out as the ruthless general leading the Crown’s armies, her mother kept to this vow by being Ozai’s loyal and protective shadow, and her sister would continue the tradition by marrying Lu Ten and fighting in their armies. Daiyu had her part to play, and, according to the nobles around her who suddenly cared so much, she was just so much wiser than the other children her age.

“An excellent choice to guide the Prince and Princess,” said one official with an approving nod.

“Is the age not of concern?” said another with an eyebrow raise. The second official’s gaze had a mocking glint that made Daiyu shift in her seat.

“She might be younger than the Prince and Princess, but she has double the maturity of most her age,” said a third, “She could be a good influence on them.”

“Well, how soon could she start?”

“What about the Prince and Princess’ training? How can a non-bender oversee that?”

“We’d need to get her to start lessons with the Lady Hana as soon as possible. We can’t afford to have the child sitting around and doing nothing.”

“Oh, and also—”

“But what about—”

Words and phrases blurred together with Daiyu’s vision. Her breathing quickened and her hands began to shake.

The council was asking her to become a caretaker to the royal children. Oversee the lessons, make sure they were fed and healthy, ensuring they were presentable to court, mediate their arguments… she was six. Daiyu was six, two years younger than Zuko, and two months younger than Azula. How was she supposed to take care of them?

“—Lady Daiyu?”

She jerked herself out of her thoughts, suddenly aware of all eyes on her. Her eyes instinctively flickered past all the other faces at the table—up to the furthest chair on the left side, where her father sat with his fingers laced together. Her eyes went further past to the shadows of the room, where her mother no doubt lingered. On instinct, Daiyu straightened her spine and raised her chin in Ozai’s direction.

“Yes, my Lord? I’m sorry, my mind escaped me for a moment. It won’t happen again,” Daiyu said in her rehearsed, “wise beyond years” tone. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth, weighing her down.

“I was simply asking for your answer,” Ozai purred, gaze relaxed yet sharp and zeroed in on her alone, “What do you say? Will you take up the honor and responsibility of preparing my children for glory?”

She gulped. Her eyes went back to the shadows—Dongmei made her presence known, eyes bright and a genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Daiyu’s eyes went back to that chair—Zhulong’s orbs held an approving light, and pride rolled off of him in waves.

Daiyu faltered, When was the last time they were this proud of her? In public, in front of the court and everyone?

Dongmei’s smile. Zhulong’s pride. Daiyu’s eyes went back to Ozai. A moment passed, then two, and her mouth opened with a reply.

***

“I’m so proud of you, my sweetling, you made the right choice today,” Dongmei gushed. Daiyu sat in front of her mother as Dongmei gently ran a brush through her long, black hair.

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“Oh, my love, you’ll be brilliant,” Zhulong said, “And really, there’s no greater way to serve the Fire Nation than to serve the royal children. They’ll be the next generation, and you’ll be the reason they continue the legacy of our people.”

Dongmei nodded enthusiastically, “Like your father said, love. Our family has been serving the Nation in many ways over many, many years. You’re helping continue our service, and we’re so proud of you.”

A knot formed in her stomach. Where was this when she scored top grades in her class? Where was this when she got the leading part in the school play? Daiyu gulped, twiddling with her fingers yet again. She spoke through the sudden dryness in her throat, “B-but Mommy, Daddy, I-I don’t know what to do or how to help them. Will you be there to help me?”

Behind her, Dongmei gently set down her brush. Across from her, Zhulong rose from his chair and came to sit in front of her. Someone spoke, but her heart’s sudden pounding drowned out who, “My dearest, you’ll be fine. You know more than you think. And besides, no one was an expert on the first day. Both of us have had our learning curves, so has your sister, and now so will you. It’ll able be worth it to make the Fire Nation and the Royal Family better.”

The other—whoever it was—spoke now, “You’ll learn, I promise. You’ll do great. Others have come before you and succeeded, and you’ll join their ranks in making our nation all powerful. Hey, you’ll be just like Master Tao. Don’t you love Master Tao?”

Master Tao, Crown Prince Iroh and Prince Ozai’s own caretaker. He was a few years younger than Prince Iroh, and was still present in the palace to this day. He was a favorite at court, with his gallant nature and booming charisma. Her parents had a point—Tao was beloved and respected, two things Daiyu wasn’t. Though it also made her think of what her classmates said—how, apparently, Tao spent all his free time at the bar owned by one her classmates’ parents. Apparently, he spent a lot of his time staring off into space and slamming back as many drinks as he could.

“Yes,” Daiyu managed with a forced smile, “I’ll be just like Master Tao.”

Her parents’ cheer was drowned out by her heart’s continuous pounding.

***

“So, caretaker, huh?” Jiaying’s soft voice broke through the darkness of her room. Daiyu jumped from her bed, too lost in her thoughts to have even noticed her older sister. The older girl was playing with the golden charm bracelet—a gift from Prince Lu Ten. In all her years alive, Daiyu had never seen her sister take the bracelet off.

“You’ll have to be sharper than that, kid,” Jiaying said with a soft smirk. Daiyu’s gaze remained wide-eyed, though her shoulders stiffened and then slouched. The elder’s smirk dropped at that, a stricken look taking over her features, “Shit, sorry kid, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jiaying quickly crossed Daiyu’s bedroom, sitting herself next to Daiyu. She hesitated before throwing an arm over Daiyu’s shoulders, “I’ll be there. As much as I can, at least. I can make some excuses over having more stuff to teach Zuko and Azula. An-and Lu Ten said he’d make up some stuff about wanting to be around longer. I’ll help you as much as I can, kid. I promise. You won’t be alone.”

Daiyu simply stared at her sister, eyes still wide and unblinking. Jiaying shifted uncomfortably. She opened her mouth to say something else, when she was suddenly interrupted by Daiyu throwing herself into Jiaying’s chest.

It took Jiaying a second to recognize the dramatic heaving of her shoulders. It took her another to absorb the sounds of sobs echoing in the room. It took her a third to realize why her shirt was suddenly wet.

Tears sprung to her own eyes. Jiaying sat there for a moment, before clearing her throat and wrapping her baby sister up in her arms.

Nothing would get to Daiyu. Not while Jiaying was there.

She’d make sure of it.

***

Daiyu’s first year as caretaker came with messes and mistakes. She messed up on schedules, appointed the wrong teachers, and stuttered when presenting their progress in council meetings. But she also got Azula to learn lightning bending, helped Zuko unlock his firebending via old tips from a scroll, and mediated their arguments to perfection.

(Her father hugs her in public for the first time at the ceremony marking her new duties. Her mother makes a declaration of her love and pride in front of the whole court. Her sister holds her hair back when Daiyu heaves up her dinner as anxiety wrestles and wins. Daiyu is seven now.)

Daiyu’s second year as caretaker came with new faces and adjustments. Somehow, Mai and Ty Lee ended up being added to her nest of clients. Her duties go from juggling Zuko’s sensitive cluelessness and Azula’s blunt cruelty with their formal duties, to coaxing Mai out of her gloomy funks and soothing Ty Lee’s insecurities.

(Her father lets her sit in on one of his meetings, perched on his lap and smiling brightly—never a public sight before. Her mother takes Daiyu as her “date” to a formal ball, and they spend the night with theirs hands locked and smiles shining like stars. Her sister talks her down from her gasping panic attacks. Daiyu is eight now.)

Daiyu’s third year of caretaker sees her finally settle into a routine. There was the first year of scrambling and grasping for stability, when the stability she sought slid through her fingers like sand. And then there was the second year of being thrown off her axis, with more on her plate and duties becoming overwhelming. And now there is the third year, where her days pass in blurs of duty duty duty—

(Her father gushes about her to visiting nobles. Her mother sings her praises to whoever listens. Her sister is shipped off to war, and reluctantly leaves Daiyu to handle her breakdowns alone. Scratching at her arms and ripping at her nails becomes her new coping mechanism. Daiyu is nine. The world is already swallowing her whole.)

***

Prince Lu Ten is dead. Crown Prince Iroh returns from Ba Sing Se a failed general with no heirs. Whispers fly through court about who would succeed Iroh once he passed—Lu Ten was his only child, after all.

Jiaying returns home with no victory to boast of and no betrothed to hold her in tender moments. Her wry smirk is replaced with a twisted snarl, and the light in her eyes is more akin to the glint of a sharpened knife than that of a bright spark. Her shoulders are fixed in a permanent tense slouch, and the rest of her frame is like a tightly wound coil, always ready to spring. She constantly has a hand on her golden bracelet, as if someone was going to rip it away at any moment.

Zhulong tried to greet her during her return, and Jiaying simply pushed past her father without a second glance. Dongmei tried to coax her out of her room for dinner, and Jiaying simply hissed that she wasn’t hungry and slammed her door.

Daiyu was only nine, but she thought she understood why Jiaying was so angry. Lu Ten had been her whole world—or, at least, that’s what Jiaying had said to Daiyu once when talking about the prince. The rest of it could be pieced together. Much like with Daiyu, Zhulong and Dongmei loved their first born but were bound by their duties. They were frequently busy, and sure they spent some time together as Jiaying learned bending, but it was still irregular. The other children had shrunk away in fear at Jiaying’s power, but Lu Ten hadn’t wavered once. He’d come to Jiaying with an open mind, and they won each other’s hearts in the end.

Jiaying had expanded her circle a bit since then, but it didn’t change how Lu Ten had been the first and, for a while, the only.

Daiyu thought of that as Jiaying slammed her way through the house, curses being uttered every now and then.

Her sister once felt like a safe place, but now Jiaying’s security had been replaced by rage and despair. And that scared Daiyu more than anything.

***

Her teacher as caretaker was the Lady Hana. She was effective and diligent, but also cruel. Lady Hana seemed to relish in the power her role gave her. It had been too many times where Daiyu had run to Jiaying through the tears in her eyes, and just as many where Jiaying had used all of her self-control to not attack the elder each time.

Lady Hana had had less complaints as Daiyu settled into her role, but she still remained in the background… ready and waiting to strike.

Today had been the Lady’s day to attack. Daiyu had messed up, once again—she hadn’t been watching Zuko close enough, and the older boy had fallen out a tree he was climbing to impress Mai. He’d broken his wrist, and it was all Daiyu’s fault (or at least that’s what Lady Hana told her during her lecture.)

Lady Hana’s reprimands usually consisted of lectures that lasted who knows how long, consisting of the cruelest words and petty insults tossed in whenever she could. But today, the teacher had escalated—had grabbed Daiyu’s wrist in her hand, and her firebending kicked in to begin to burn at Daiyu’s wrist.

Daiyu had shrieked in pain the moment it happened, and wrenched her wrist away. She hadn’t even taken a second to look at the Lady’s reaction or excuse herself, instead bursting from Lady Hana’s office.

She sprinted through the halls, the courtyard, and the palace to her home. Her parents hadn’t been home (away on business, shocker), but Jiaying had been. Daiyu’s older sister was seated at the kitchen table when Daiyu ran in sobbing.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Jiaying asked with an eyebrow raise. She took note of Daiyu holding her wrist, and her expression barely changed. She kept fiddling with her charm bracelet.

“I—Lady—it—please—I—Jia—”

A huff and an eyeroll as she crossed her arms, “Just spit it out already, Daiyu. C’mon, I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

Daiyu took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to school herself. She remembered everything taught in her lessons—taught to her by Lady Hana and—

Her breathing quickened, sobs growing more aggressive as Daiyu’s shoulders heaved. The world spun out from under her, “Jia, please, I can’t—she hurt me—”

Jiaying said something, but Daiyu couldn’t hear anything over the sudden ringing in her ears. She swore she could taste blood in her mouth.

A sudden grab on her wrist made Daiyu scream. Jiaying snarled, “For fuck’s sake, Daiyu, learn to grow up already. So what, your teacher hurt you? People hurt each other all the time. You’ve got to grow up already and just deal with it like the rest of us—”

“OWWWWW! JIA YOU’RE HURTING ME STOP IT!”

Jiaying blinked and startled at her sister’s primal screech. She gazed down at where her hand held Daiyu’s injured wrist, and her stomach sunk. The area that originally only looked a bit red and dry was now a deeper shade of crimson, and had begun to blister. The newly burned area was in the shape of Jiaying’s hand.

Jiaying practically threw herself into the kitchen counter as she stumbled away. Daiyu collapsed to the floor, sobbing and wailing.

“Oh, oh Daiyu, I’m so—” bile rose in her throat, “I—I—oh sweet girl, I’m—”

The bile was going to win. Jiaying stumbled out of the kitchen, out of the house and Daiyu remained in a heap on the floor.

Pain flashed through her entire being, weeping and tearing at her.

I need my mommy, I need my daddy, I need—her thoughts ran rampant, blurring together images of her parents and her friends and Jia and oh spirits, had the pain gotten stronger?

Her parents weren’t here—they wouldn’t be back for a few days. She could try her friends—no. No, it wasn’t an option. She was their caretaker; she was supposed to solve their problems. It wasn’t their place to see her so weak. Daiyu couldn’t betray her duties like that. Even through the fire blazing through her, that message was burned into her very being.

The medic, she warbled in her mind, the medic will help.

She pulled herself off of the ground, stumbling through her home. Jiaying hadn’t even closed the door after running out, leaving it ajar. Daiyu pushed past, tears clouding her vision and her steps more like a clumsy stumble. She barely dodged the puddle of vomit by the front gardens in her quest to find the medic.

Daiyu wandered without seeing through the courtyard. She was vaguely aware of people’s mouths opening and jaws going slack as they took their second glances. Daiyu thought she saw some try to approach, but she simply pushed past them.

Weak, Daiyu, you’re weak, she thought spitefully, Letting the court see you like this. Making Jiaying angry. Zuko hurt on your watch.

The sun was suddenly so blinding in the open courtyard. Wait, courtyard? When had she gotten there? She was going to go to the medic. Where were the medics again?

Iron pooled in her mouth. Light burned her eyes. Her wrist pleaded with her, pleaded for something. Her heart beat out a new rhythm.

“DAIYU? What’s wrong?”

Huh, that sounds a bit like Azula, was the last thing Daiyu thought before her vision went black.

***

A second-degree burn. Severe exhaustion. Emaciation. Scars from probable self-harm. All things the medic had somberly prescribed her with.

She could hear the bits and pieces of conversation as she slowly stirred awake. Daiyu’s brown eyes blinked slowly as she took in the sight before her. The medic stood before her parents (when had they gotten back?!), the medic’s eyebrows tilted down in a gentle frown and her hands somberly linked together before her.

Zhulong was practically a statue, but his eyes were screwed shut. Daiyu could see his hands clenched into fists, and she thought she could see them shaking slightly—alongside the quivering of his lips. Dongmei was equally as still, but her body was stuck with one hand held over her mouth and the other gripping at her stomach. Her dark brown eyes were wide and shimmering with tears.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

The words escaped before Daiyu could stop them. Zhulong and Dongmei jumped a bit, before reality set in and they were suddenly at her bedside.

Zhulong held a hand in both of his, pressing several kisses to her head and face. Daiyu thought she felt the drip of tears, but that feeling was overwhelmed by Dongmei gently scooping her into a hug. Dongmei’s tears were more obvious, shaking at her mother’s shoulders.

“Oh, my dearest love, I’m so sorry,” Dongmei wept, “How are you? What do you need?” None of them noticed the medic silently slip away. Daiyu was left reeling over the last question. What did she need? But what about her friends? Did Azula attend her history lesson? Did Zuko end up passing his latest firebending test?

“How about some water, honey?” Zhulong suggested, pulling back just long enough to pour her a cup from the tea set by her bedside. Dongmei reluctantly parted, but busied herself with helping Daiyu sit up. Zhulong gently refused Daiyu’s attempt at holding the cup, insisting at holding the cup as Daiyu sipped.

Daiyu found she greedily chugged the water, droplets remaining on her chin. Daiyu rose an arm to clear it off, but was beat by Dongmei using her sleeve to dry off Daiyu’s face. Zhulong gently pushed Daiyu’s long hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ears. He rested a tender hand on her upper back.

“How are you feeling, love?” Dongmei inquired gently.

Daiyu blanched, her memory filling her with shame as she stammered, “I-I’m sorry.”

Her parents blinked, and took a moment to look at each other. Dongmei pressed, “For what? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes I do,” Daiyu replied with a frown, “I was weak today. I’ve been weak. I won’t be like that anymore, I promise.”

Her parents both sputtered, but Zhulong gathered himself first, “What do you mean by… weak?”

“Well, I cried and passed out in front of everyone like a loser.”

“You are not a loser, and you are certainly not weak. Who made you feel like this?”

Daiyu shifted, “Well, Mommy told me that we can’t afford to be weak.”

Zhulong’s gaze turned sharp towards his wife. Dongmei’s eyes shut, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The older woman took a second before opening her eyes and fixing Daiyu with a steady gaze, “Daiyu, I—I can’t even begin to explain. I—there’s no excuse. I failed you and I’m so sorry. Did,” she gulped, “did you feel like you had to hide how you felt?”

Ignoring her voice breaking, Daiyu thought for a second and simply said, “Yes.”

A sob abruptly tore its way from Dongmei. Zhulong wrapped an arm around his wife and reached forward to hold Daiyu’s hand with his free one. Conflict made a mask on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, when a knock sounded. Zhulong paused before sighing and raising his voice just slightly, “Come in.”

“I’m sorry,” were the medic’s first words, “I just came to check on Daiyu.”

“Oh, please, go on,” Zhulong said, rising from his chair. Dongmei reluctantly followed him, eyes still trained on her daughter. “I need a moment with my wife, anyways.”

“Mommy, daddy, is everything okay?” Daiyu asked, eyes wide.

A pause hit the room. Zhulong looked at Dongmei, who pointedly avoided his gaze, and then Daiyu, “Yes, my love. Everything will be fine.”

Daiyu nodded, gazing at her parents. A thought hit her, “Where’s Jiaying?”

Her parents looked at each other. Zhulong cleared his throat, “Jiaying’s put in an immediate request to be transferred. Her request was granted, and she’ll be leaving soon. She’ll be working with General Zhao.”

Daiyu’s eyes bulged out of her sockets, her stomach sinking. Her sister? Leaving? Was she leaving because of her?

“We have much to talk about, sweetheart,” Zhulong said, leaning forward to rest a hand on her knee, “But we can talk later. Just rest for now and get better. We’ll be here.”

“You will?” Daiyu’s eyes brightened.

Zhulong gulped, a guilty tint in his eyes, “We will.”

***

Jiaying never came to say bye. The closest sign of a farewell came with Jiaying leaving behind her cherished golden charm bracelet—the one Lu Ten had gifted her so long ago, the one she never took off. The apology seemed to radiate from it. Daiyu wasn’t sure what to do with it.

The medic was happy to report her burn would heal. Daiyu was good to go in a few days burn-wise, but they opted to keep her in the medical wing for a while long for her exhaustion and emaciation (… whatever emaciation meant, at least.)

Her friends kept her busy in the meantime. Zuko and Ty Lee were the most frequent visitors, with Zuko reading her stories that Ursa had shown him and Ty Lee showing off her newest acrobatic tricks. Mai and Azula visited as well, but they stuck mainly to the background. Though, it didn’t change the fact that Mai would pretend to leave with everyone else when visiting hours were over, only to sneak back in later in the evening and sit by her bedside. Or that Azula came in the earliest hours of morning, and would switch posts with Mai until she had to attend to her lessons.

(Of course, Daiyu pretended to be asleep during these times… well, sometimes. Other times she was actually asleep.)

And her parents kept their promise. If they weren’t there together, one of them would be a constant by her side. Her mother sang her songs and braided her hair. Her father told her stories of his life growing up and would affectionately mess up her hair. Jiaying remained a prominent absence… Daiyu still didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was one evening when her parents were both present that they were summoned by Prince Ozai. Daiyu didn’t miss the surprised look her parents shared.

“Right,” Dongmei said with a forced smile, “We’ll leave in just a minute. Did he say where?”

The medic hesitated, “... in the Agni Kai chambers.”

Another look. The medic nodded and left.

“Well, goodnight sweetheart,” Zhulong said, standing to his full height.

“Sleep well, my love, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Dongmei said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. When Dongmei pulled away, Zhulong dipped in to drop his own kiss. Her parents then smushed her in a hug between them.

“You’ll be back home tomorrow,” Zhulong stated happily after they had separated, “… maybe we’ll have to talk about some things.”

Dongmei nudged her husband, “But that’s for tomorrow. We do need to talk, but you rest for tonight.”

Daiyu nodded happily. She hesitated, and then stated, “I love you both. A whole lot.”

Her parents beamed. Her father warmly replied, “And we love you too. More than anything.”

Daiyu gasped and grinned, “Really?”

A twin pair of chuckles, “Yes, really.” More farewells were uttered before her parents took their leave.

Daiyu went to sleep, smiling and heart full.

***

(What happened that night, after her parents, wouldn’t be told to Daiyu until she was older.

After Zhulong and Dongmei left Daiyu to her peaceful dreams, they made their way to the Agni Kai chamber.

“I don’t get why he chose there to meet,” Dongmei uttered under her breath.

“Ozai is sometimes… peculiar. I’m sure he had his reasons,” Zhulong replied. Dongmei simply hummed her agreement.

What happened that night was simple, but impactful. Her parents would meet the then Prince in the chamber, and his first words to them were,

“I will be Fire Lord in twenty-four hours. You both will be by my side and in my court.”

The husband-and-wife duo froze in shock. Before either of them could say a word, Ozai plowed on, “He’s been given a colorless, odorless poison. It’s already in his system. His last request will be that I be made Fire Lord; Iroh doesn’t have the heirs to continue the line, anyways,” he sighed, “I need you both to get to work. We need to begin showing our power to the other Nations, and looking for the Avatar. Zhulong, you’ll—”

“Wait just a damn minute,” Zhulong burst out, “W-what do you mean you’ll be Fire Lord? And what’s this of a… poison? Who would even provide it to you?”

“None of your business, General,” Ozai snipped, “And didn’t I make it obvious? I’ll repeat it, I know sometimes peasants like yourself sometimes have a hard time comprehending information.

Dongmei snarled, “Watch your tongue, Ozai.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Save it with the snarls, Dongmei. Now isn’t the time to back down, both of you will be on my court come morning.”

Zhulong gazed in disbelief, “You’ve killed him. You’ve killed your own father and robbed your brother of the throne… but why?”

“Because,” Ozai bit, “I am the one deserving of the throne. My father is weak and passive. My brother spends his time losing wars and moping. But I have never been like them, and I never will. I will find and kill the Avatar, I will make the other nations bow at my feet and beg, and no one will stop me.”

Zhulong staggered back. Over the years, he’d been given warnings from Iroh… warnings about Ozai’s true nature. But he’d always scoffed at his warnings and ignored them. He’d even told Dongmei to disregard his words!

“We won’t let you,” Dongmei insisted, chin raised, “Both of us could take you.”

“And risk imprisonment? Execution?”

“It’d be worth it,” Dongmei hissed, “To keep the Fire Nation from being ruled by scum like you.”

“Neither of you will do a damn thing.”

“And how do you know?”

“Well, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to your daughters, would you?”

Zhulong snapped out of his daze, and his sharp intake was matched with his wife’s.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Dongmei’s voice trembled with rage.

“Well, you’re right to an extent,” Ozai rolled his eyes, “Jiaying will get herself killed sooner or later on the battlefield, she’s never been the brightest bulb.”

Dongmei lunged forward, and Zhulong held her back, barely restraining himself. How could he do this? Zhulong thought to himself, rage and despair warring in his heart.

“But the non-bender, the weakling… what was her name again? Oh, right. Daiyu. Well, she certainly does a lot around the palace… wouldn’t it be a shame if she got into an accident?”

“Don’t,” Zhulong pleaded. The man he once called friend simply fixed him with a blank stare. He released his grasp on Dongmei to collapse to his knees, “Please, Ozai, brother, don’t harm my girls. Please. We’ll do anything.”

“Then I’d suggest you both step carefully and follow my instructions,” Ozai commanded, “Do as I say and I’ll keep your daughters, you little Daiyu, alive. If not, well… something can be arranged for the spare.”

Zhulong gazed at his so-called brother in utter horror, “How… how could you do this?”

“Listen to me, brother, I’ve always been like this. You and your wife here have just been too starry eyed to notice,” Ozai straightened, “Go and get some rest. Our work begins tomorrow. I’ll expect you at my ceremony.”

He strode out of the Agni Kai chamber, leaving Zhulong on his knees and Dongmei standing helplessly.

***

Daiyu wakes the next morning to learn that Fire Lord Azulon is dead, and that his last decree was that Prince Ozai would be his successor.

Her parents collected her for the ceremony… and they were both ghosts. Both were as pale as the moon, and it looked like they’d been crying. Nothing showed on either of their faces as the family watched Ozai be dubbed the new Fire Lord. Zuko and Azula are Prince and Princess.

Daiyu is nine when her parents seemingly pull away entirely. Gone were the days of her father holding her on her lap during council meetings, or her mother taking her out to balls. Gone were the days of her father even sending the smallest nods of approval, or her mother sharing secret smiles with Daiyu. They both had, over the span of one night, turned into public statues. Their gazes were blank, their movements stilted and rehearsed.

The only time they weren’t completely emotions were in rare cases, where if you looked at the right time you’d see one or both of them gazing at Ozai with something in their eyes. Something dark and angry that Daiyu couldn’t put a name to.

And then there was their home life. Her already barely present parents became ghosts in their own home, being sent on constant missions by Fire Lord Ozai. And when they were there, they kept staring at Daiyu with sadness in their eyes, and pulling back. With nights like that, Daiyu was sometimes secretly glad they’d both be gone—sometimes it was better to love the memory of a ghost than be treated like one by those around her.

Daiyu was nine. The last time she spoke to her sister, she’d screamed at her, burned her, and then run away to another post. The last time she’d spoken to her parents… well, it hadn’t been speaking as so much as sitting in awkward silence.

She was now caretaker to the Crown Prince and the Princess. She didn’t think her burden could grow any further, but fate had a way of surprising her.

***

Daiyu’s eleven when Zuko challenges his father, and is marred and exiled because of it. The smell of his burning flesh is imprinted into Daiyu’s memory, reminding her… reminding her of her sister.

Her stomach was in knots as she approached the room where Ozai plotted with his men. Daiyu knew her father would be stoically present, and her mother would be in the shadows.

Her presence was announced by an aide, and Daiyu tried not to shrink as every eye in the room swung towards her. She pointedly ignored the gazes of her parents as she bowed.

“Fire Lord Ozai,” Daiyu stated.

“Lady Daiyu,” he said flatly, “What is it?”

Remember to be brave, she told herself. Daiyu cleared her throat as she straightened, “I… I have a request. For you, if you don’t mind hearing it.”

Ozai sighed, “Just get on with it, girl. What is it you want?”

A moment of hesitance led to a firm, “I don’t have all day, you know.”

“Yes, yes, of course. My apologies, my Lord, it’s just… Prince Zuko has been sent into exile for his… transgressions,” That was a grown-up word, right? “General Iroh has volunteered to go with him. I would like to request that I be sent alongside them to search for and capture the Avatar.”

A gasp echoed across the room, drowned by the sound of a chair screeching as her father rose abruptly. Her mother’s feet padded on the floor as she slid out of the shadows. Their stricken looks of shock were almost identical.

Fire Lord Ozai didn’t react to any of it, simply humming, “And why should I send you, girl?”

Because I want to be there for my best friend. Because I want to make sure he isn’t alone, she thought. But she voiced, “Because for decades, my family has served yours. My grandmother was Fire Lord Azulon’s most trusted advisor. My mother is your faithful bodyguard, and my father one of your top generals. My older sister is one of the brightest soldiers in the field, and helped train Prince Zuko and Princess Azula in firebending. I’d like to continue what my family started and be of service to the Crown Prince. I might be young, but I’ve learned a lot by being the caretaker of the Royal Children. I’ve learned combat over the years, and would be able to defend Prince Zuko in battle. It’d be an honor to help Prince Zuko on his quest, and bring the Avatar back for you, my Lord.”

She almost wanted to pat herself on the back for going through the whole speech without stuttering. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed on the contemplating Fire Lord.

“Hmmm… a decent proposal,” he sniffed, “But not a horrible one. I’d like to see what your parents think of this. General Zhulong? Lady Dongmei? Your thoughts?”

All eyes turned to her parents. Daiyu’s eyes trailed to them a second after everyone else.

The room held its breath as her parents shared a glance.

***

Daiyu would leave with Zuko and Iroh a week later. Her parents had stiffly given their agreements in the meeting, but later that night it felt like hours had passed with her parents pleading with her to reconsider.

(“Please, my love, please consider staying. It’s not too late to tell Ozai you’ve changed your mind,” Zhulong pleaded. Dongmei stood behind him in silent agreement.

“Why are you two so against this? You approved earlier,” her next words were more of a spit, “Besides, it isn’t like you two ever pay any attention to me. Nothing’s going to change for you, you act like I’m not here anyways.”

Silence filled the room.

Zhulong and Dongmei were unsure of how to act around Daiyu after that fateful night with Ozai… how do you face the one you love more than anything, that you’d burn down the world for, and know that your ignorance and decisions have put them in direct danger? How do you not drown in guilt looking at your child, and knowing that they will always have a target on their heads because of you?

How do you face them? But also, how do you let them go? How do you let them go off into exile for who knows how long, to search for someone who might not even exist?)

Daiyu had all of her things packed and deposited onto the ship. She stood on the deck, swaying absentmindedly on her feet as she gazed up on her new home for… now.

Azula had said her goodbyes that morning before going off to attend to her duties. The princess had hesitated for a moment before crushing her into a hug. “… promise you’ll come back,” Azula had muttered.

“I promise,” Daiyu replied instantly, returning the embrace.

Mai and Ty Lee had just left. Ty Lee hadn’t hid her tears as she threw her arms around Daiyu. Ty Lee swore up and down she’d show Daiyu all the cool acrobatic tricks she’d learn when Daiyu returned. Mai had given her a quick one-armed hug, nodded, and wished her luck. Her quiet request about looking after Zuko had been made after a moment of silence. Daiyu’s response had been an instant vow of protection. Mai allowed her glimmer of a smile, then told Daiyu she’d miss her before taking her leave.

Now all Daiyu had to do was get on the ship and leave. It was… easier said than done. Something was holding her back from getting on the boat. Zuko had been the first one on, before the sun had even risen. Iroh had gotten on board with all of his teas and merriness. They were all most likely just waiting for her.

Now or never, Song, get a move on, she told herself. Daiyu took a deep breath, before going to take that first step—

“Leaving without saying goodbye, my love?”

She froze at the sound of her mother’s voice. She thought they might’ve forgotten or… were too mad to say goodbye. Daiyu turned, seeing both of her parents approach.

Daiyu sputtered, “You... you both showed?”

“Of course we did,�� Zhulong said, frowning gently, “We wanted to say goodbye.” His voice wavered at the last word.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” Daiyu burst out as her parents reached.

“What? Why did you think that?” Dongmei questioned.

“I-it’s just you both have a lot of responsibilities,” she fiddled with the sleeves of her tunic, where all her scars hid beneath them, “I thought you’d be busy.”

“Not a chance we’d miss saying goodbye to you, petal,” Zhulong stated firmly, “Never.”

“… I thought you’d both be mad,” Daiyu admitted, “I was mean. What I said a-about you two not paying attention. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh, my dearest love,” Dongmei sighed, reaching forward to cup Daiyu’s face in her hands, “We could never be mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. We’ve both failed you, and we can never apologize enough.”

“You were right, about us not paying attention,” Zhulong admitted, resting a tender hand on the back of Daiyu’s head, “Your mother’s right, we’ve failed. And we can never make up for it… we just hope that you know we love you. More than anything. I swear.”

Daiyu blinked the tears away from her eyes. She’d dream so many times of them saying those words. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had stared at her so tenderly, or when her father had last spoke more than a single sentence to her.”

“I-I—” I want to go home, “I’ll miss you both, so much. But I’ll be back, I promise.”

“We know, sweetheart,” Zhulong said with a sad smile, “We’ll see each other again. I know it.”

And then her parents, at the same time, reached out to hug her.

The feeling of two sets of warm, loving arms wrapping her in their embrace made her burst into tears. When had been the last time they’d hugged her? When had been the last time she cried? Daiyu didn’t have the answer at the moment. All that mattered was her mother rubbing soothingly at her back, and her father’s soothing coos. The emptiness and the coldness that draped over her like a shadow was fought off by her parents’ love.

She didn’t know how long they hugged for, but she knew the moment was interrupted by soft footsteps.

“Zhulong, Dongmei, Lady Daiyu… I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Iroh said softly, looking at the trio with a melancholy warmth, “We must get going. The ship is ready to sail.”

Daiyu reluctantly parted, wiping furiously at her eyes and fixing her hair, “Right. My apologies, General, for keeping you waiting.”

“Oh, my girl,” Iroh chastised gently, “Our families know each other well enough, you can drop the formalities. Just call me uncle.”

Daiyu’s eyes darted to her parents for permission, and they both chuckled through their tears as they nodded. She flushed as she murmured, “Alright… Uncle.”

Iroh chuckled, “See? That’s more like it. Go on, Lady Daiyu, I’ll be up in a moment.”

Daiyu nodded. She was about to go, when she turned back to address her parents, “I love you both. And if you see Jiaying, tell her I love her, too.”

Her parents almost broke again. Dongmei inhaled shakily, “We all love you too, sweetling, very much. More than anything.”

Daiyu beamed through her tears, before rushing up to the boat. She wouldn’t know how, earlier that day, Ozai had come to her parents and assured them that Daiyu being in exile wouldn’t make her safe from him. How he always had someone ready to carry out his orders. She wouldn’t know how her parents had come to Iroh, swallowing their pride to apologize and beg for him to protect their youngest daughter. She wouldn’t know that Iroh told them there was nothing to apologize for, and vowed to protect Daiyu with everything he had.

But maybe she didn’t need to know. At least, for now.

***

Over the years, a few ideals had been printed into her mind. As she stood on the bow of her home at sea, they painted themselves out for her: perceived, image, reputation. The trio of words had molded themselves into Daiyu’s mind over the years—they almost felt like an irreplaceable part of her at this point. The words made her straighten out her spine, push her shoulders back, and school her softer facial features into an icy cold mask. It was those qualities that made the generals and nobles of the Fire Nation give out approving nods and murmur praises; it was what made her peers shrink away and avert their gaze. It was what made her parents push her away in public; it was what made their home a ghost town.

Even now, the few moments of familial love couldn’t drown out years of conditioning and training. For a few seconds, she was her parents’ baby girl. But now she had to resume the role she’d had since the tender age of six—Lady Daiyu Song, the assigned caretaker of the Crown Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Promising combatant, loyal servant, and dignified lady-to-be.

Like many Songs before her, she’d shed her weaknesses to do what was expected of her. Like many Songs before her, she’d allow her desire of love and tenderness to be snuffed out by the shackles of duty.

It was her duty, after all.

THE END

#comment reblog #waiting-so-long #my beloved <3

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