#i fluctuate between thinking i look EXACTLY the same and COMPLETELY different
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sjweminem · 1 year ago
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i was thinking abt those drastic transition timeline posts like oh jeez that's me.jpeg
(~9 years testosterone)
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evidence-based-activism · 4 months ago
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I’ve seen many trans activists compare the sudden upsurge in trans-identifying youth with the infamous ‘left-handed phenomenon’ wherein the rates of left-handedness rose after people stopped associating left-handedness with demonic or satanic affiliation.
Is this a fair comparison? What are the similarities and differences between the upsurge in trans-identifying people and the aforementioned upsurge in left-handedness?
Hello!
While looking into this, I found someone else had already written something on this [1].
Their write up was very good, so I've linked to it above. There's a couple parts I don't completely agree with, but overall it's an excellent explanation of why this isn't a reasonable comparison.
(I found the comparison between their treatment of the left-handedness graph and right-wing treatment of climate change graphs particularly striking.)
The short summary: The graph of left-handedness that is used to make this comparison is:
Truncated/incomplete (i.e., cuts off the first part of the graph to distort the message, similar to climate-change denial-ists truncate temperature change graphs)
Ignores explainable factors for the change in handedness (e.g., the industrial revolution) and attributes everything to a single cause (i.e., discriminatory stereotypes)
Depicts a much smaller increase (~200% vs ~2500%) over a longer time period (~50 years vs ~10 years)
Is essentially a hypothesis (i.e., there's very little hard data, and even less representative data)
All in all, this is not a fair comparison. It's an example of how people misrepresent data/science/statistics to support their world view. (And how that misinformation spreads.)
Other data supporting the sharp increase in children referred for gender dysphoria includes:
This German article [2] documents an overall 8-fold increase (with a 12-fold increase for adolescent girls) over ~10 years
In Sweden [3] there has been 20-fold increase in gender identity diagnoses in people younger than 20 over 10 years
This systemic review [4] found that "based on 38 papers meeting inclusion criteria, there is evidence of an increase in frequency of presentation to services since 2011, and of a shift in the natal sex of referred cases: those assigned female at birth are now in the majority." This review covered 12 countries, but there are some important limitations discussed in the paper.
Highlights from the linked article:
"This analogy fails badly because we’re talking about vastly different populations, changing at vastly different rates, over vastly different timescales, making actual direct comparisons impossible."
"[An advocates for this explanation] has pointed at some random property, asserted it has fluctuated over time, given a superficial and incomplete reason why, and then asserted that a completely different thing must therefore be changing for the same reason, therefore there’s nothing to worry about ... when confronted with graphs showing the rapid rise in global temperature in recent decades, those who sought to minimise the severity of climate change and humanity’s need to do anything about it did exactly the same thing."
"The change in left-handedness was ~80% over 20 years, in comparison referrals to GIDS over the last 10 years have gone up around 6000% in girls, and 2000% in boys."
"Tiny in absolute numbers but the rate of change is vastly different, is different across sexes, is the subject of huge attention and celebration in schools and throughout media, shows absolutely no sign of plateauing, and - unlike handedness - is being medicalised, with potentially huge personal consequences. There are clear and glaring differences that a glib comparison to handedness simply can’t explain."
Issues I want to mention:
This is actually explicitly addressed in the article, but I just want to highlight, that attempting to compare world-wide data/hypothesis to gender clinic referrals in Europe is ... iffy.
I think the numbers reported (re: the above highlights) are slightly misleading. A better summary would be the one I provided in my summary (~200% in 50 years vs ~2400% in 10 years).
The article attempts to graph the gender clinic data on the same time scale as the handedness data, but, in doing so, are replicating the same issue underlying the handedness graph (over-reliance on hypothesis over data). I understand their goal here, but the graph they produce is misleading (i.e., we cannot reliably extrapolate past the data time frame we have).
The article (to a degree) and more so the twitter thread they linked appear to be arguing that because there was a reason for everything to be created for right-handed people (industrial revolution, mass production, etc.) it wasn't a case of discrimination. I don't really agree with this. That is, I think the fact that much of the modern world has been designed around right-handedness is unfair to left-handed people, even if there's a practical reason for the design.
Reference:
Void if Removed. The Left Hand of Daftness. 11 Nov. 2022, https://web.archive.org/web/20230501044319/https://www.voidifremoved.co.uk/p/the-left-hand-of-daftness
Bachmann, Christian J., et al. “Gender Identity Disorders among Young People in Germany: Prevalence and Trends, 2013–2022. An Analysis of Nationwide Routine Insurance Data.” Deutsches Ärzteblatt International, May 2024. DOI.org (Crossref), https://doi.org/10.3238/arztebl.m2024.0098.
Landen, Mikael. “[Dramatic increase in adolescent gender dysphoria requires careful consideration].” Lakartidningen, vol. 116, Oct. 2019, p. FSMH.
Thompson, Lucy, et al. “A PRISMA Systematic Review of Adolescent Gender Dysphoria Literature: 1) Epidemiology.” PLOS Global Public Health, vol. 2, no. 3, Mar. 2022, p. e0000245. PLoS Journals, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pgph.0000245.
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cervinepride · 4 months ago
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welcome!!!
im cervine, this is a pronoun and name tryout blog! so you send me an ask with the desired name(s) and pronouns, and ill use them in a paragraph. this blog has the purpose of helping others to figure out which names and/or pronouns fits them best and, most importantly, bring some euphoria!!
read everything before submitting your ask please.
quick about me
you can call me cervine or vine. i am a genderqueer writer and artist. i am an adult. i usually use no pronouns, though im demipronominal and pronounfluid, so i also go by it/antler sometimes (i also fluctuate between feather/shell, but it's not as common). i am unlabeled. english is not my first language.
there is no DNI, just don't be a dick
HOW TO SUBMIT
basically, specify exactly what you want! usually, the more information, the better
what you should state in your ask when submitting:
-> either a name and/or a pronoun. nullpronouns/no pronouns are completely fine, but ill probably need a name for it. i can also do JUST pronouns with no name too, just specify it.
-> please tell me if you'd like separate paragraphs for each pronoun/name suggested, if not ill just use all the info given in the same paragraph.
-> if youd like to make my job easier, tell me about yourself! talk about your interests or hobbies. this will help me to make it more complete and it will possibly resonate with you more! this is optional, though!
-> if you're using neopronouns, id advise writing the entire set (so xe/xem/xyr/xyrs/xemself or even flower/flowers/flowerself for example) otherwise ill just assume what the rest of the set is
that's it!! if you're still not sure, here's two examples below of what your ask can look like and what you'll get in response:
example 1:
ASK: "Hi! My name is Cervine, i want to try out it/its and antler/antlers/antlerself! I like to draw animals and animate, my favorite animals are the anteater and water deers, i also write poetry and im a littlest pet shop collector! I also like pokemon. Both pronouns in the same paragraph, please"
ANSWER: "Hey, yesterday I met Cervine. It told me all about antlers LPS collection, I found this so cool! Antler also mentioned that antler writes poetry, I'd love to read some of its works! Its favorite animals are so interesting too, anteaters are lovely. Antler said something about Pokemon, I wonder who is antlers favorite
example 2
ASK: Hi, I'd like to tryout both the names Domi and Vine, my pronouns are feather/feathers/featherself and shell/shells/shellself, please use two different sentences for each name, but feel free to use the pronouns together or separately.
ANSWER: 1) Have you seen Domi's newest shoes? I think feather bought it featherself! Those shoes are so pretty and colorful, I bet Domi really likes them, they match with shells eyes! Domi definitely has great taste.
2) Are you ready for Vine's party? It's going to be so fun! Knowing Vine, feather will organize everything all by shellself. I think it's a lot of work, but Vine's parties are always the best. I can't wait, I even bought Vine a gift!
That's it! have a good rest of your day <3
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chronicallyuniconic · 2 years ago
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Where do I start with that appointment with the doctor?
✨ [TLDR a very personal post about a single doctors appointment when you already have chronic illnesses, TW for medical bxllshit] ✨
They asked me to come to see them for the below list of symptoms I gave. I have heavily condensed for this post, they're in no particular order, feel free to skip them:
\\ Tingling and numbness in fingers and palm of hand, with weaker grip and cold feeling. Also occurs in right foot, sometimes both feet
Skin problems: Irritation, lumps under skin, thicker and darker body hair causing irritation
Jerking up back from coccyx, legs kicking out and knees locking
Losing feeling when taking a step, hips hurting all the time, affects my walk and I drop. Holding breath to stop jerking due to pain
Passing out with sudden nausea feeling, followed by paralysis and pins and needles in arms. Vomiting after passing out
Vertigo, dizziness when tilting head back, stumbling to the side when standing
Headache and jaw pain leading to migraine
Dry eyes with dark shapes in vision
Losing control of bladder, urgency to urinate, no build-up, sudden full bladder. IBS, fluctuating between constipated and not constipated
Longer, heavier, more painful periods since coming off the pill. Pressure, sharp pain, and hip pain during periods
Cellular level exhaustion, feeling like there is concrete or sand in bones. Nodding off even after sleeping for long periods //
Arrived to see noone in the waiting area or reception wearing a mask, just me. Doctor was wearing one thankfully. This shouldn't have to be up for debate in a pandemic, but there we are.
I started off with the hip problem as its concerned me most, what with losing functionality, just dropping to the ground, struggling to lift myself back up and continue to walk. They got me to lay on the table, made me push and pull against their arm with both legs then said "if you're having this type of weakness you typically wouldn't be able to walk." They just watched me walk, in the way I do, and it instantly made me think *well they don't believe me or do they think that I've just put that on, like made it up?*
The doctor asked about my bladder weakness, didn't/couldnt(?) give any explanation as to why I have sudden urgency and lack of control. My take was that "I shouldn't be losing control of my bladder the way I am. I am not 80 yrs old." Them "we'll get a urine sample" (every single urine sample I have provided in the last 7 years has come back exactly the same, with the same unexplained & ignored "protein in urine"🙃)
They then asked about how I managed some of the above symptoms. Painkillers, baths, heatpads, yoga stretching, etc etc.
"How are your periods?" I explained to them that since I came off the pill they have gotten much heavier each month as time has gone on, typically leaving me in bed from the 3rd day, for 7 to 10 days, I have this constant bearing down feeling with sharp, crushing pains where my ovaries would be, flares up IBS and so on.
For them to say "that's completely normal, you can treat with ibuprofen." At my age, I just felt disbelief in their comment. I have been treating my periods since I was 10 years old for pain management and to reduce heavy flows. I don't take ibuprofen because it flares my asthma, something they should see, but throughout my life, I have noticed that medical professionals refuse to accept it as a side effect that occurs in me and look perplexed by the statement "ibuprofen flares asthma"
The doctor commented that 'I mentioned my symptoms may be more applicable to Multiple Sclerosis' and asked why I think that.
I explained about the new symptoms, worsening of old and new symptoms and the difference between first symptoms at diagnosis to how they present now.
They then asked about my medications and whether they work for me. I explained that none of the medications have helped with fatigue in particular, for the next lines to happen:
Doctor "We can increase X if you like."
Me "I didn't think I could, but if you think it will help fatigue(?)"
Doctor "Why did you think that you could not? Is it because you read it somewhere or someone told you?
Me "No, it's because I'm pretty sure I'm already on the maximum dose."
*doctor looks up doses*
Doctor "Yes, you are right"
Is it just me?? This bullshit is infuriating to me & its so disheartening. This motherfxcker doctor asked ME to come to THEM.
Doctor "so what would you like me to help with what are your main concerns?"
Me "I'm tired beyond comprehension, I haven't been here physically in 2 & 1/2 years because I cannot leave the house. I'm in pain all the time, mainly in my hips, I get constant migraines that cause vertigo, my sudden loss in bladder function, I'm a young person this should not be happening to me and I can't explain it, it's embarrassing and I want these symptoms to stop or know how to treat them or what to do, it's affecting my life"
Doctor "in all of that you never mentioned pain and this is a significant symptom of MS"
Me "it was one of the first things I said, I-"
How can I receive any care when it's like this? Where is the treatment within all of this?
At this point I felt myself start dissociating, mentally I've already left the room, realising what this doctor sees and thinks of me. They mention something about physiotherapy to help my hip/leg problem. I've been on a list with a chronic pain/management clinic for 5 years, suffering waiting for physio.
As I was leaving I said to them, "because I look normal, like this, noone understands my symptoms or seems to believe I have them" for them to give me the pity head tilt, the childlike-sympathy a grazed knee gets, the "oh I know" the way a teenage breakup is handled.
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Is there ever going to be a sense of understanding that goes beyond fellow spoonies, zebras & warriors alike?
I'm still wondering why the hell they asked me to go when really, nothing has happened, again.
Again, I had a doctors appointment, where I wish I hadn't bothered at all & my symptoms are now considerably worse as a result.
Does anyone else experience this type of thing or just understand? It's a lonely feeling when you always feel like you have nobody on your side.
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candy8448 · 1 year ago
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Glad to help :)))
If you want, there are more terms that possible you could explore? I dont identify as most of these so i may get something wrong but it is something to look into
Demigirl is feeling between fem genders and nonbinary genders. As far as im aware it is one feeling that is blended together, when in my experience bigender feels like two very different gendered feelings. Obviously you can still be bigender if you do feel maybe they are one blended gender if it feels right. Also i might be wrong in saying that it is one blended gendered feeling, as i said, im not fully sure on this but you can search it if you would like.
Genderfluid can fluctuate between many genders. I identify as genderfluid to represent how my genders might feel more strongly one day and the other another day (however that might be more genderflux but i personally prefer genderfluid)
Genderfae is like genderfluid but only between fem and non binary genders and not masc genders. Again, im not sure if this and genderfluid are one gendered feeling that changes but again, if you want you can use them two in the way i use them
If you feel that perhaps you have more than one or two genders, there are more multigender identities.
For example trigender (three), pangender (many), onmigender (all) and there are probably way more multigender terms that i haven't heared of. Again im not sure if those definitions are correct but you can search them up if you want
And i say the way i experience bigender are two distinct feelings, but in truth, some days i feel like they are really blended or that i am only one of them. Everyone's experience is different and if you think a term fits even though you dint fit into exactly what the definition means, you can use it! My bigender experience might be completely different to someone else's even if they also identify as female and male the same way i do
I hope i haven't overwhelmed you, i just thought i could give another nudge in some other things to explore (there may be other genders ive never heared of that fits you so perhaps just searching "gender identities" can help if those ones dont work for you)
Also i get the unsupportive parents thing, my parents are highly transphobic. You will probably have to keep things like this in hiding if you sre scared about them finding out and it probably will suck so im sorry about that, but if you have friends you can tell them to call you by that during times where you're not around people you dont want to know and ask them to just keep it a secret from these people. Ive also made pronoun braclets that are subtle by just being the colour and telling my friends which one is which, so if you want you can try and make more discreet things
Anyway stay safe and have fun exploring your gender Fia and if you do find that you are bigender, i welcome you fully into the community!
I want to be girlboy. I want to be boygirl. I want to be Mrs. boy and Mr. girl. I want to be dude in a skirt and that bitch in big pants. I want to be, 'oh she's my husband' and 'oh, he's my wife.' I want to be a masc girl and a femme boy. I want to be both, at the same time. You know?
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bratz-kitten · 4 years ago
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the sun through the houses 
sun in the 1st house: you irradiate confidence and self-assurance, as if you know exactly who the fuck you are and what you're here to do and people are very drawn to that kind of energy in you, to the way you're so full of life, spontaneous, ready to face anything that life throws at you and your ambitious nature. you thrive when you're uplifting others to feel as good as you do because you don't want to shine alone, and because on the inside, you might be much more insecure than people are aware of - you understand what it's like to be at rock bottom, but you're good at hiding this part of yourself. can be very controlling and competitive, and if you were raised in an environment where your parents used to fight a lot, you might chase conflict wherever you go. be careful with being arrogant and proud, and be aware that your strong energy might overwhelm a lot of people. whatever you do, you follow your heart. you need appreciation and recognition from others. you keep your cool in the most stressful situations. 
sun in the 2nd house: you crave to achieve financial success; here, the planet of the ego is tied to the house that rules material possessions and our self-worth, so you want to achieve power by getting rich because that's how you feel safe. you're very talented when it comes to business and making good investments that'll allow you to get to the next step. when it comes to your ambitions, if you want something, you'll work hard for it and only stop when you get it. you're very witty, with your dry humor and sarcastic personalities, you truly have the best comebacks lmao and above all, you always keep your word. you take pleasure in everything lavish that life has to offer; you have great taste and know when something is of value almost instinctively. you need to make sure you're appreciating the people in your life instead of only what you own and your ambitions because you're at your best when you're expressing your kind and generous side. you might be into retail therapy when you feel sad or empty, but afterward, you might feel terrible because the fulfillment shopping gives you is only temporary. careful with being controlling or possessive. 
sun in the 3rd house: you use your mind like a weapon. you truly have a way with words and you're able to express yourself in a way that leaves everyone wanting to know more about you; but most of all, you crave to keep on learning more and more and to expand your knowledge, because that's what feeds your soul. spontaneous personality; bold but unpredictable and you feel a sense of pride whenever you think about your friends, they're very important to you. you have the capability to bring stories to life, this placement is amazing for aspiring writers, and you like analyzing your surroundings which, in turn, makes you a very adaptable person. constant change in your way of thinking because you're always viewing things from different perspectives. you can become easily bored when you aren't feeling mentally stimulated, which is why you're always seeking new experiences, communicating with others and why you live so much in the present. persuasive. people who don't seek to expand their minds terrify you. you refuse to live in the shadows of your siblings, you have a need to stand as your own person. 
sun in the 4th house: when the planet of the ego is in the house of our family life, our inner experiences and our childhood trauma, you are blessed with a rich inner experience that leads you to want to delve deep into what you went through and how those experiences shaped you into the person you are today – and that means the trauma you went through, too. if you had bad experiences in your child, your journey is longer and harder because you find it harder to understand life, and you might've compared your home life to the "outside world" a lot, feeling like they were two different entities (think sinclair from demian). you're very caring and nurturing and very attached to your family, either the one you were brought under or the one you want to establish. having a home that feels cozy and safe is what brings you security, and you want to bring happiness to the ones you love the most. be careful with being too pessimistic and feeling paranoid that something bad will suddenly happen, and also with being too controlling and domineering. you need a lot of reassurance, but be careful with coming off as if you don't trust your loved ones. very strategic, you play the long game. 
sun in the 5th house: you literally irradiate artistic talent and creativity! you thrive when you express yourself and your originality and get recognized for it, and appreciation for your efforts is very important to you. intelligent, you can be very cunning and strategic, at the same time that your optimism and spontaneous nature naturally commands attention from others. very dramatic, you shine in the eyes of others. but although you have a happy aura to you, you can be very hard on yourself, thinking you're not good enough whenever you're not being appreciated. at your worst, you can have an exaggerated sense of pride, dominating energy, manipulative tendencies or feeling less than others. you may fluctuate between focusing a lot on yourself and being overly generous with everyone in your life. bold, you do a lot just to feel alive. you're very loyal and love deeply, passionate and nurturing, but be careful with involving yourself with people who take advantage of that. you should realize that appreciation should come from yourself and not others. if you add discipline to your originality, you can become very successful. 
sun in the 6th house: one of your driving forces is your attachment to your work and your need to be of service for others and to be recognized for your efforts. health, dieting, exercise and keeping a structured routine are very important to you. you have a constant need to be perfect and that can be your own worst enemy, because when you or others aren't meeting your high standards, you might feel like you're weak and have your insecurities taking over you. you can't stand being told what to do. very self-aware. a tendency to be a workaholic because it's what makes you feel proud of yourself; you need to feel like you're making the world a better place. stress can easily physically affect you, you should understand that validation needs to come from yourself and not from others, and accept that having imperfections is human, it doesn't make you weak! careful with having a routine too restrictive that doesn't allow you to have fun, work can become an obsession for you. you truly always want more and need to keep busy and productive to feel safe. don't let your insecurities stop you from pursuing your ambitions. 
sun in the 7th house: you have a very strong sense of justice because of your capability of analyzing a problem from all different perspectives. you need to bring peace everywhere you go and to help others in any way you can. you have a special charm that others feel drawn to, and many admire you for your caring nature and talent at giving advice, making you often the center of attention in the middle of groups. sociable and good with words, you're very persuasive; although you might tend to identify yourself too much with what others think of you – you should understand that others' opinions aren't that important and it's how you view yourself that matters. you crave affection and are very sensitive when it comes to your relationships, you would do anything for your loved ones and you're very in tune with their needs. you can have people-pleasing tendencies because you're terrified of rejection. you're determined to succeed and to build an amazing self-image because you have a gift when it comes to social intelligence. can have some open enemies.
sun in the 8th house: can attract a chaotic life that pushes you into achieving transformations because that's how you grow and evolve, through the process of death and rebirth. you can't deal with superficiality and you crave deep connections with people, intimacy and to evolve with the person you love. creative. you may feel like the universe sends you messages so that you'll reach an awareness of some kind. you love experiencing new things and especially with yourself, you constantly look forward to changing your appearance and your spiritual or emotional views on the world. you feel a need for self-improvement. very secretive, you value privacy more than anything and you don't allow almost anyone to figure you out. you might be terrified of not finding people who want to connect with you as deeply as you want with them. tendency to isolate yourself emotionally, as in you might open up to others about superficial matters but when it comes to emotions, you're terrified of showing that part of yourself. you want to help others through their darkest times. 
sun in the 9th house: you love learning and dream of exploring the world, it's like you can absorb any information that you get your hands on. very idealistic and dreamy, it's hard for you to keep grounded on reality and material things when you're so concerned with the metaphysical, to understanding the secrets of the universe and all that is spiritual, philosophical, religious and transcendental. so enthusiastic and curious, it's like you can't stay still for a minute and long to go on adventures. you can see the best in people, but be careful with only seeing their good parts – you need to understand that nothing is black or white and people are morally grey and complex, not all bad nor all good. might be very pessimistic if you've gone through something traumatic that completely shattered your perceptions of the good in the world; you might feel like things are never going to get better (i promise they are). very proud of your knowledge. high ideals and honesty. loyal to your beliefs always. careful with being too authoritative. 
sun in the 10th house: when the planet of the ego falls in the house of social status, you seek power above all. you want fame, notoriety and to lead, and when not achieving what you want, you might become insecure. you can't help that ambition runs in your blood, but you should make sure you're doing things because you love doing them and not just to get recognized. it's like you need to achieve so that you can feel proud of yourself because you never felt that kind of support when you were younger, and achieving success feels like a life or death matter to you. you ooze charisma and you naturally draw attention to yourself, wanting to be recognized for your talents. very aware of how others perceive you. but even if you're a great leader, you hate following orders which can make you have problems with those in charge – be careful with making enemies and with stepping on others to get what you want, it’s very important that you keep a strong sense of morals or else you can grow to be arrogant and tyrannical. at your worst you can start abusing your power; at your best, you can use it to better the lives of all those around you like a true leader.
sun in the 11th house: here, the planet of ego is in the house of friendships, hopes, inventions and the collective, making you shine when you're able to help others. your friends are the most important thing for you, but be careful with identifying too much with them. you carry yourself with so much confidence, you're so full of life and with a love for learning and giving to others. eccentric personality and big dreams. you want to stand for a cause that matters to you alongside others who you love. others gravitate towards your magnetism, individuality and friendly nature, naturally looking up to you as a leader. if you happen to have been betrayed in the past, you might shut yourself completely from friendships due to a fear of trusting the wrong person again, but please don't deny yourself your need to socialize and to express your revolutionary ideas to others because you truly shine when you're around those who you trust and help you grow. 
sun in the 12th house: you might have a very hard time understanding who you are and your identity, and because of this sense of unclarity about yourself + your intuitive and empathetic nature where you absorb others' energies like a sponge and need a lot of solitude to recharge yourself, you might feel like you need to keep a mask in public, to play a character to feel safe interacting with others. plus, it doesn't help that you have perfectionist tendencies and hate failing and making mistakes. there's a tendency to feel very insecure and misunderstood, and to feel melancholic and with turbulent emotions, so you should be gentler with yourself and allow yourself to express your sensitivities, the way you're so compassionate and giving. because even if you need time to recharge for introspection, you shine when you can help others. be careful with developing self-destructive behaviors. artistic tendencies because of the depth of your emotions and inner world. you can be truly wise and others might see you as an "old soul" because of that. you might be a night owl. psychic potential. 
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we-are-swearwolves · 2 years ago
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"Smile, Soleil.”
(A love letter to photoshoots and a Finn/Leo/Logan AU.)
Characters belong entirely to @lumosinlove
Rating: Mature
Prompt: 
From the SW discord: “Completely different AU but Boudoir photographer Logan, chubby and insecure Leo whose boyfriend (Finn) payed for a shoot to help with Leo's confidence.”
Relationships: Finn O’Hara/Leo Knut, eventual Finn O’Hara/Leo Knut/Logan Tremblay, background Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Warnings/tags: Insecurity about looks/weight/attractiveness 
This was fine. 
This was good! Finn was right, this could be good. Leo was standing outside of the private photo studio, giving himself a second before walking inside because even though Finn was probably right, Leo was still nervous. 
Well. There was nothing for it, his mama had raised him better than to be late when there was someone waiting. Leo took a breath and walked in. 
Fuck. 
He saw the photographer a half second before the photographer turned and saw him. 
“Hi! Come in, allez. You must be Leo?�� He extended a hand. “Logan Tremblay.”
Fuck.
Leo knew if he had said it out lout it might have been breathless, but it also might have been pleading, with the universe at large, because what the fuck. As if he weren’t nervous enough, the photographer had to be this hot. 
He shook Logan Tremblay’s hand. 
“Hi. Yes. Leo! I’m Leo. Hi.”
Logan smiled at him and Leo honest to god shivered a little. He didn’t think Finn would blame him. 
Leo knew Finn was attracted to him. He believed Finn thought he was beautiful. He believed what Finn said when he said it but Finn was Finn and Finn was special and Leo worried sometimes that Finn let his heart change his eyes. 
He believed Finn thought he was attractive, but Leo didn’t always believe he was attractive. He still sometimes squirmed under Finn’s gaze. 
Finn was fucking hot. His shoulders pressed against his shirts but the same shirts were flowy and free and unrestrictive everywhere else. His jaw was sharp. He fucking ran everyday. He’d had the same jeans for years. 
Finn had played hockey in college and, though he didn’t anymore, and as a sports writer he didn’t need to, he still kept to a very similar (albeit less intense) workout routine.
Leo was… softer. Snugglier.  
Leo loved his job. He was a chef and he loved food. He luxuriated in food. Survival and pleasure and skill, food was more than sustenance, it was how he connected with people, it was how he counted his blessings, it was a big part of how he courted lovers. 
He didn’t mind terribly much that he fluctuated between pants sizes, if it meant having a love like that every day. He’d hold onto it if it meant getting to hold onto it, he was completely uninterested in cutting himself off from the pleasures of all the kinds of different foods he loved. 
But sometimes when he was naked with his fucking hot boyfriend, he minded a little. 
Finn had caught on eventually. He’d been honestly surprised. He’d kissed Leo all over, all gentle, and said, “I wish you could feel what I feel when I look at you, sunshine, you’re so beautiful, you’re so fucking hot.”
It didn’t always come up, but when it did, it did, and Leo felt the insecurity creep up on him.
Finn had set this whole thing up. Leo didn’t think either of them had ever said the word “boudoir” prior to Finn kissing him on the cheek two weeks ago and saying, “Hi Sunshine, I have an idea,” and well, here he was. 
With this gorgeous photographer. 
Of course his job is beautiful people, look at him.
Leo wasn’t sure he belonged in that category and it was significantly contributing to his nerves. 
Although.
Something about Logan Tremblay’s kind eyes and sweet smile eased the tension in his shoulders just a little. 
And at least there was that. 
Finn had found Logan on Instagram. 
At first glance, his profile hadn’t exactly made Leo feel better about this because there were tons of pictures of what Leo was sure was one of the hottest men alive, and What the fuck? Who looked like that!
There were a lot of photos of him. Tall and muscular and that fucking jawline, black hair and piercing gray eyes. 
Leo didn’t know how he’d compare to that, had been afraid that he’d be compared in the first place, even if only in someone’s head. 
He wondered if the model was the photographers boyfriend— there were so many photos of him, and a rainbow flag in the page’s bio— until he found a caption thanking the model “for helping me expand my portfolio”, and another with 3 slides (which, to be fair, included one with a big ol’ kiss to the model’s cheek & huge smile on his face) captioned “MY BEST FRIEND IS ENGAGED!!! Congratulations babe, love u”. 
Which did make Leo feel better. Three exclamation points humanized any person.
This and that and this and that and “it’s ok to be nervous, we’ll only do what you’re comfortable with” and then Leo was in a robe and honest to god shaking a little. There was a couch. A sheet. A window. A bed. 
“Your boyfriend, he tells me he wants you to feel beautiful.”
Leo caught more of the light French accent this time; he wondered if he should mention he’d understand if they switched. 
Of course he did.
(“Baby, I wish you could see yourself how I see you.”)
“Oh. Yeah, I bet he did.”
“Ouais, he did, many times actually.”
It was somewhat rare for Leo to actually blush with his coloring, but he felt his cheeks heat up thinking about people discussing him like that. 
“Hey, allez,” and a gesture forward and then Logan took his hand (with a question, with respect, with the very clear option not to take it), “It’s ok. If you want a break, we take a break.”
It was a good thing Leo had a boyfriend or he’d be in trouble. 
“Where… where should I start? I don’t really…” Leo wished he didn’t sound as nervous as he did, wished he could hide it better. 
There was a half second pause, Leo thought he saw Logan make a decision and was halfway to apologizing. He wished he weren’t halfway to apologizing. 
He was a chef, he ran a busy kitchen everyday, the restaurant he worked for now depended on his fast and confident decision making. And he was good at it, everyone in his kitchen ‘yes, chef’-ed him with genuine respect— and he knew there were kitchens where it was just obligation.
But here, with a stranger looking directly at him, focusing— literally, focusing his fucking camera— on Leo’s body, it was a different story. 
Part of the reason he agreed was that he wanted that doubt gone. Or at least wanted it quieter. 
Finn had had plenty of ideas in the past that had made Leo hesitate at first but ended up being amazing. Finn had brought so many good things into Leo’s life and Leo trusted him enough to jump into this; if Finn thought it was a good idea, it probably was. 
Logic and feelings didn’t always go together though. Leo wanted to laugh and joke and tease and look daring and drop his robe, but he didn’t know how to start. 
And he didn’t know how to make his voice stay steady when he asked. 
Logan hadn’t given any impression that he’d push Leo any further than he wanted to go (“Is there anything you know you’re uncomfortable with?”) and Leo was fucking grateful for that. 
But.
He did need just the smallest push to get started. 
“C’mere, allez, follow me.”
Leo did, a bit of tension leaving his shoulders at getting directions he could follow. 
Logan led him to a bathroom, and guided him gently with the barest amount of touch (“Is this ok? To guide like this for poses?” It had made Leo smile. “Yeah, definitely. It’s ok.” “D’accord.”) to the center of the room, between Logan in front of him standing in the doorway and a shower, sink, and mirror behind him. 
“We’ll take a couple with the robe on to get started.”
Leo hadn’t know it was possible to do before Logan did it, but he was completely charmed when Logan proceeded to earnestly wiggle his eyebrows, good natured and teasing before saying conspiratorially, “besides, showers are sexy anyway. We will get good photos.”
They made their way from the bathroom to the couch. Lo could tell Leo still felt better covered a little, so they moved from a robe to a sheet. 
They did indeed get good photos. 
Logan could tell. 
He’d been doing this long enough, he knew that the angles he put Leo at with a “Look over this way with your face, but at me with your eyes. Yes, very good. Aaa-dta-dta!— up, just there, Ouais, pull that fabric over a small way, d’accord, yes” would work. 
His job held a very delicate balance: he had to make people feel sexy without making them feel like he was leering at them from behind his camera. Each person needed something different. Some men wanted to feel like he was attracted to them. Some men wanted to think he was jealous of them. Some men needed a best friend. 
He got a clearer idea of what Leo needed when he pulled back to look at his screen to check the last few photos. 
Leo looking at the camera, told to “think of someone you want and look here, non?”; Leo with one hand holding tight in the fabric of the sheet, the other beneath and between and holding himself and “very good, yes, that’s perfect,”; Leo from the side, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, letting the fabric setting around his hips and following Lo’s directions to “Look on your face, like you are thinking ‘Oh yeah? I dare you’. Yes! That, like that, good.”; Leo leaning back, arms above his head gripping the back of the couch, knees apart. Mouth open a little. 
They looked very good. 
He loved clients like this; he loved clients who had such a warm light inside that it only took a couple of directions to capture it. 
He looked at the photos on the camera’s screen, checking his angles, and thought of the call he’d gotten from Leo’s boyfriend, who led with asking Logan to make Leo feel beautiful. He never minded when people asked for sexy, asked for alluring, for playful and flirty… he just definitely had a soft spot for people who asked for ‘beautiful’. He looked at the photos and smiled and let himself imagine for half a second. 
Logan only let it last for a second. It had been a while since someone made his heart feel like this. He didn’t want to make Leo uncomfortable, so a second was all he allowed himself to linger on his camera screen “double checking the light.” 
Lo had been single for a while. 
His last breakup had been… difficult to recover from. 
It had been the right decision to separate; they had wanted different things. 
Logan loved being at home with his people, he loved his network. He liked challenges and new projects and new ideas. He’d spent time in New York, briefly in L.A., but he had never wanted to leave for good. 
But Saint had. 
He wanted to be in Paris. He wanted to walk at fashion week and make it into magazines. 
Logan wouldn’t admit it, not even to Sirius, but he’d spent months flipping through pages looking for the first boy he’d really fallen for… 
… and felt a lot of pride when he did see him on those pages. Felt it right along with the lingering heartbreak. 
It being the right decision for both of them didn’t make it any easier. 
So he let himself imagine, for a second, how lucky Leo’s boyfriend must feel.
Leo was human, ok? 
He had always gotten a rush when his boyfriends had in the past, with mischief in their eyes, said to him “I had a dream about you last night” or “I imagine you when no one’s looking” or “I was thinking of you the whole time”. 
It had come with a weird dissonance though, when he thought about how he’d look in their mind’s eye; pleasure and pride and doubt all mixed together in Leo’s heart. 
This whole time, he hadn’t been able to stop himself: he watched Logan’s eyes for approval, whether he wanted to or not. 
He wanted this photographer to like looking at him. 
So he watched closely and saw. 
It was nice to be someone’s fantasy, but in that couple of seconds he was somehow sure it wasn’t a fantasy, per se… more of a daydream. 
When Logan looked up Leo had an expression on his face that was almost like hopefulness. Lo had been able to tell that Leo relaxed just a little with each smile of Logan’s, each positive word. 
Leo needed sweetness. 
Which was no fucking trouble at all for Logan. It would be easy. It was already easy. 
“If you are ever getting tired of being a chef, you have a career waiting for you as a model.”
They were near the window now. 
There had been a minor setback, but Leo was rallying. Logan was doing everything he could to get more of Leo’s fiery eyes back. 
Lo had meant it; he’d worked with a lot of models who couldn’t quite have pulled off the same determination Leo had to keep going after clearly being upset. 
Leo had been following his directions, switching up his position on the couch. Logan hadn’t noticed for the first few seconds, why Leo had frozen, he couldn’t put it together. 
But then he saw Leo’s eyes fixed on the mirror a little ways away. At his middle in own reflection. 
Logan knew a few tricks to get people out of their own heads, to think less about their body. He got good photos when he was able to draw out bright energy from people; good photos didn’t depend on body type. 
He knew Leo had some insecurities. He had just witnesses Leo’s reaction in real time, to noticing that some of his stretch marks had been visible for at least the last few photos, to seeing that his stomach had pressed over top of the sheet where he’d been sitting. 
Leo crossed his arms over himself and pulls the sheet up, higher and tight around his shoulders. 
He had wanted a short break after that. 
You have a career waiting for you as a model.
“Some model” Leo said, trying, but his face fell a bit. 
“I’m serious.”
With just a touch of annoyance, Leo said, “You don’t have to say that, it’s ok. I know Finn was the one to book this, you said he did ask you to tell me things like that, but it’s ok.”
Oh. Ok, so what had just happened had hurt Leo more than Logan had realized. 
In a way, it made him more proud that Leo had decided to keep going. 
In another way, it made him more determined to make Leo believe him. He’d seen so many bodies; he knew how much of a lie it was that looking good meant looking flawless. 
He knew that it was a lie that all these normal human things were “flaws” at all.
What he was about to say was going to be a risk. 
Oh well. 
“Allez, how is this, Soleil? Your boyfriend, he already paid me, yes? I could say anything now and still have his money...”
Leo made a face (which was what Logan had risked) before Lo kept pushing forward—
“… so I do what is easy and I tell the truth. The photos tell the truth. You look incredible, you are looking very good in these pictures, ok? Photos tell the truth, whether we want them to or not. You’re very beautiful, yes? You shine. This is the truth.”
Leo caved. 
He looked to the side, tried (and failed) to hide a smile, made a pleased little motion with his shoulders and believed it. 
It didn’t matter how long the belief was there for, in that moment it was there. 
And Logan got a picture of it. 
They took just a few more. Lo could tell Leo was reaching his limit, even if a little of the spark was back now. He got a few on the bed, Leo on his stomach, ok with letting his ass show. Logan gave an encouraging little “hell yeah” which Leo seemed to appreciate.
Leo was glad Logan seemed to sense he was getting to the point of being done. 
The last photo Logan asked for made him a little nervous, but he’d asked so gently and with such good intentions that Leo’s instinct to immediately say ‘no’ got caught in his throat and he actually thought about it. 
He could say no. He knew he could. But he’d done this much— so much more than he thought he would— and Logan had guided him through it. He was curious how he’d feel. 
And if he didn’t like it… well, it’d be quick. 
He found himself wanting to try. 
He let Logan move him. 
And then he let Logan position him to take a picture. 
He was standing with his back to Logan and his body facing the full length mirror. The sheet he’d been wearing, had been covering himself with, was thrown over his shoulder. He decided if he was going to do this, he was going to do it. 
So he leaned further toward nudity than he had yet today. His ass was visible. He supposed his dick was as well, though it’d be blocked from the camera’s view. He knew that Logan knew he was nervous and was only looking where he needed to to frame the shot. 
He was leaning, balancing his weight on one wrist at the top of the mirrors frame, looking into the mirror and making eye contact with the cameras lens. 
He felt something like triumph. 
A week later, when he got his edits back, he’d be very pleased to see it was written on his face as well.
Leo loved his pictures. He kept looking at them, and he kept smiling at them and he kept mentioning little details to Finn about the shoot, and about how much the care Logan had put into the session had meant to him… 
…and about how pleased he had been that Logan thought he looked good. 
“Well of course,” Finn said, drawing out the word and teasing a little. Smiling. “You’re hot. I’m assuming he has eyes if he’s a photographer.”
“Yeah, I mean I know you think that, but— you love me.”
Finn looked confused, but Leo supposed that was understandable. 
“I do love you, yes.” 
It was very clear Finn had no idea where that would fit as a counter point to him being attracted to Leo, so Finn was going to let Leo lead wherever the conversation went next. 
Plus it was true, so Finn said it. 
Finn had a habit of jumping forward in conversations to the point where important things either got skipped or assumed; they’d been working on it and Leo had a weird wave of pride for a second, mixed in with the exasperation he felt trying to put his feelings into words. 
“You’d love me no matter what I look like.”
Leo had no doubt. It made the general doubt he felt towards other people louder though, in some weird illogical way he couldn’t really make sense of. 
But Finn, pleased Leo knew that, said, “Yes,” around a small smile. 
“He hadn’t even met me before and he still thought I looked good. It wasn’t— there wasn’t… he was looking at me and told me I looked good without... without having to. I think hearing it from someone on the outside, it— it helped. I don’t know.”
Finn’s face changed as he finally understood. 
“Leo—” Finn’s hands went to Leo’s face just a half second before he kissed him. 
One gentle kiss that kind of turned into an unspoken ‘hey’ at the end, before Finn pulled back, nudged Leo’s nose with his nose and kissed him again but with one that meant ‘you better listen’.
“I’m glad he made you feel like that,” but Finn was making an expression Leo didn’t know if he’d seen aimed at him before; something proud and sad and imploring and a little bit hurt, all mixed together. 
“But I need you to— I want you to know that I— just…baby, I haven’t been lying to you.”
“What?”
“I’m attracted to you—”
“No, I know that, I promise I—”
“— and I have been since we met. I don’t just say it to— appease you or whatever… I don’t know. Make you feel better. Whatever you’ve been thinking. I know you sometimes feel— that you have a hard time letting me tell you I think you’re gorgeous. But I didn’t know you thought that I didn’t actually mean it.”
Finn’s words crashed into him a little bit, even though his voice was gentle. 
But when Leo smushed his face into Finn’s neck and breathed him in, he found that it was easy. 
“Maybe we can work on you believing me?”
Leo’s breath caught a little then, but he squeezed his arms around Finn a little tighter and nodded.
Logan was fussing with a lens. 
(“I swear to god, Lo, your favorite hobby is to fuss.” “Shut the fuck up, Sirius, I am just particular, ok I can’t help being right.”)
He was so caught up with his fussing, he didn’t hear anyone come in until—
“Logan Tremblay?”
He looked up, and when he saw who had spoken, he—
“Yes.”
It came out more definitive than it needed to, for someone just asking his name. 
Because every instinct he had was screaming “yes” at the man in front of him, and it had come out of his mouth before he’d even really processed the question. 
Had he forgotten a model booking? Was it his birthday? Was this proof that there actually was a god? 
The universe was testing him lately. Between the gorgeous sunshine sweetheart last week (lo had spent more time than he had charged for— than he would even admit to— editing his photos before sending them to Leo) and now this man? These brown eyes and warm energy and these freckles? 
Logan sent out a vague ‘thank you’ into the ether or the universe or anything that might be listening for whatever his past self had done to earn this kind of karma. Because even if it was a test, it was a fun test. 
“Yes, I’m Logan Tremblay.”
“Finn O’Hara.”
Finn O’Hara held out his hand and oh god, this was the boyfriend. The boyfriend who wanted Leo to feel beautiful, who paid for a shoot that covered a whole afternoon (‘but if he wants to be done earlier, that’s ok. I’ll book the whole day just in case though’) because he wanted to give his partner time to get comfortable and ensure Leo wouldn’t be rushed if (when) he got there. 
“Hi.”
The were still shaking hands. 
And Finn was beaming at him. 
“You,” Finn said, letting go and pointing at Lo’s chest in an endearingly playful way, “are coming to dinner.”
Quoi?
“Quoi?”
Lo had never been charmed by someone wagging a finder at him before. In fact he wasn’t sure it had ever happened at all, but here he was, smiling at this nerd in front of him, utterly charmed. 
Finn’s smile got a little softer. 
“As a thank you. Leo loved his photos.”
Oh. 
“I mean so did I when I saw them…” Finn was grinning again just for a second, somehow simultaneously licentious and goofy.
Insane.
“… but Leo loved them. You made him feel really… good.”
“Oh.”
The love was so loud in Finn’s voice; it made him ache. 
Fuck, Logan wanted a boyfriend. 
“I’m glad. He— we ended up with a lot of really nice photos. Like, way more than.. it really varies, based on how comfortable people are ending up, for the camera,” fuck, he was stumbling, he stumbled over his words around cute boys sometimes, it made Sirius tease him about his chosen profession, “but, ouais—yeah, we… we got many good shots.”
He waited for Finn to stop smiling, but also he somehow knew that Finn could smile about Leo forever. 
“Come for dinner.”
Yes. 
“You don’t have to do—”
“We want to, though. Please. And also? Ok, trust me on this,” Finn spoke so thoroughly with his hands, swishing them then in a way that communicated in any language ‘this is the truth’: “You want to have Leo’s cooking.”
It was working and Finn knew it. He smiled at Logan’s smile. He poked Logan lightly on the chest.
“Friday.”
Logan was a normal amount of nervous. 
An amount of nervous that was totally normal and not at all deranged. 
He was fussing with his clothes (he had about nine ‘this is an option’ shirts strewn across his bed) and had limited himself to one (1) freak-out text message (to Sirius: ‘help’) and was actively willing his under-eye masks to work. Staring at screens took its toll ok? He’s fine. He’s young. His eyes will be fine.
(Shawty got them apple bottom jeans…)
His eyes will be fine, right? This cucumber honey thing Re had given him was going to work?
(Boots with the fur, with the FUR!)
Maybe he was anticipating more attention than he’d actually get. It wasn’t like this was a date. 
(The whole club was lookin’ at herrrr)
It might have been a date, if it weren’t with two people who were already each other’s boyfriend. 
(She hit the floor!)
Wait—
(Next thing you know!)
— his phone was ringing. 
(Shawty got Lo, Lo, Lo, Lo, Lo, Lo, Lo—)
Sirius’ photo. The ringtone Remus set that Logan told people he didn’t know how to turn off, but in truth was too charmed to turn off. 
He picked up. 
“Hi, I need—”
“Are you ok?”
“Yes? Wait, what?”
“Lo, you said ‘help’, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Sirius was talking a mile a minute, “Is it an emergency? Where are you, do you need me to come get you?”
“No I’m fine.”
“Then what the fuck?”
“Sorry I just— I’m having dinner. A dinner. I’m going for dinner.”
Silence. 
“The emergency is that you have a date?”
“No! It’s not a date, I just— sorry, there’s no emergency,” it was like he could hear Sirius’ shoulders unclench, “Sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, too fucking late—”
Logan was sorry, but also he smiled into his phone for a second. 
“Ok yes, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” he probably would, by accident someday, but Sirius loves him so it’d be fine. “But also I do need help with—”
“The green one.”
Shit. He had just taken the green one off. 
“Really? Not the maroon?”
Re had dressed him in the maroon the last time they took him dancing. 
“I like the maroon. Wear the green tho, the cut works for more moods.”
Goddamnit, Sirius was right. He should make a chart maybe? Maroon for dancing, green for dinner, that slutty see through gray one for—
“I don’t know what the mood is.”
“Exactly. Wear the green.”
Logan picked up his green shirt, laying it back out flat over his bed. 
Half a beat of silence and then—
“It’s not a date.”
“Uh huh.” Sirius sounded convinced. “Just a dinner. With who?”
“…you know the last couple pics I posted?”
“Yeah, the ones with— HOLD ON,” bigger smile into his phone, “Sunflower boy? You have a date with him? Oh my god. Re! Lolo’s got a date with that hottie blonde from his instragam!”
Logan said “Shut up no I don’t!” To the phone, fully aware that Re couldn’t hear him. 
He kinda wished he did have a date though. 
(“Oh hell yeah. What’s he going to wear?” “That green shirt. And the— you’re wearing those pants that make your ass look like a cupcake, right? And I’m assuming those shoes you wore to Talker’s?” 
Sirius knew too much about his clothes.
But he was right.)
“It’s a thank you dinner. Sunflower and his boyfriend.”
Sirius didn’t let that sit for even a second. 
“Hot.”
“Oh my god, stop.”
“Nope, won’t.” Logan could hear the grin on his face. “Green shirt. Cupcake pants. Commes des Garçon cologne, ok? Have fun, honey.”
“But—”
“Be safe! Get some. Call us in the morning, love you.”
Sirius hung up. 
Fucker.
Logan put his green shirt back on. 
Logan wore the cologne he had let Sirius pick out for him eight months before. 
Logan went to dinner. 
Logan smiled his real smiles and laughed more than he had in a long time. The three of them had talked until the sun rose. He saw a look pass between Finn and Leo at one point and then they’d gotten more playful and affectionate and snuggly. 
Logan loved it. They had fallen asleep all over each other. It made no sense at all and was the most obvious thing in the world all at once. 
Logan woke up in borrowed sweats being sandwich-snuggled by two men that almost seemed too sweet to be real. He woke up just enough to register that it was in fact the morning, to sit up just a smidge, to hear the ‘mmmph’ Leo made from behind him, feel him pull him closer with the arm he had around Lo’s middle. He smiled and sunk back into Leo’s arms; he pulled his hand, intertwined with Finn’s, closer to his chest and closed his eyes again. 
Sirius was definitely going to get a fucking phone call…
…But it could wait.
(Thank you for reading 💘 | ao3)
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a-lil-perspective · 4 years ago
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70 Encouragements/Tips For The Writer:
A/N: Rules don’t exist. These are real and personal and stem from a deteriorating, exhausted Writer who is here to tell you (and herself) that you are amazing and keep going. I hope you find some encouragement within.
Your mental health comes first and foremost.
Indulge and embrace your creative writing pieces when they come (and when they don’t). Especially when they don’t.
Suffering from Writer’s Block or fluctuating hyperfixation? Me too. So is your favorite author. Welcome to the Writer’s Block Party (all my uwus if you see the pun).
Did you spend five hours on this one segment, forget the last time you ate, develop chapped lips, dry eyes, and a stiff back (time to get up and move), bang your head on the wall, laugh, cry, fidget, take your ADHD meds, deviate to watch YouTube, have an epiphany, curse in frustration and wonder why the hell you do this to yourself? Congratulations, you’re a Writer.
Embrace all the not-so-glamorous sides of writing, and accept the fact they’re going to happen time over again.
When you say “just one more line” and it’s 2:00 AM, I’ll be here to remind you to “go to sleep” (because I’m also depriving myself lol).
Actually, sleeping helps your mind feel refreshed, and it’s good for your health. If you’re struggling with a particular segment, one of the best things you can do is just put a cap on it for the time being, put in a placeholder, and get some shut eye. I know you don’t want to. But you will feel so much better and have more clarity and energy to continue when you wake. Trust me.
More often than not, those words you “just didn’t write down fast enough and now forgot” end up revealing themselves to you later in a much more profound way. Give the words time to get ready. They’re just spiffing up before coming to visit. :)
Be proud of yourself and your prose. Writing is an amazing part of who you are.
That trope has been written 1000 times before? Make it 1001.
You’ve already written this scenario? Write it again.
You’ve just written a single sentence. Now sit back for moment and think: you just wrote something brand new, never before seen. Nobody out there will ever write that sentence or formulate those thoughts the exact same way. You are a unique, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring human being.
Bask in the excitement that comes with a completed piece. Reflect on what you learned throughout and celebrate the little victories.
Don’t be afraid to ask for feedback, but also understand that you might not always get it, and that is OK.
Please re-read your work. Be gentle with yourself. You had to write that very first piece to get to where you are now. Love the process.
Your personal writing success is not based off of kudos or likes or reblogs.
There is no right or wrong way to write.
There is no such thing as “good” writing.
Improvement is becoming of everyone so get comfy, strap in. The journey of a Writer is a lifelong one. Here’s to many more works ahead.
Don’t mourn the words you did or didn’t write. Celebrate the ones you will.
One day, you’ll read a piece that will blow you away—and it will be yours.
There is nothing “shameful” about reblogging your own writing works.
I promise you’ll find your “wow” piece���either in something you’ve already written, or something yet to come.
Baby. Please don’t write out of spite. You’re better than that.
You are just as valid/deserving as the next Writer. And you do belong.
If you feel sad/unworthy when sharing your works or interacting with others’, get to the root of why. Writing should be fun, rewarding, and relaxing. Not shameful, embarrassing, or a chore.
Writing (fanfiction, specifically) is labeled as “transformative works”. Self-explanatory, right? However, if you notice the transformative part begin to have a personal effect on you—a negative one—it’s time to take a step back.
Right now, I can name a single quality you possess: diligence. How do I know? Because you’re a Writer, and the two go hand-in-hand.
Got that single scene in your head but you haven’t completed or even began all the chapters preceding? Bruh. Jot that down right now. You don’t need 20k words beforehand.
Embrace your writing mood swings. The stray, sweet and condensed blurbie. The ideal, bridging drabble. The solid, substantial oneshot. The hefty, elaborate 10k word chapter. Appreciate everything in-between, and that you are capable of all of it.
Nobody remembers that extra word or typo or stray speech mark back all the way back in chapter 3. Tell the little monster in your head to go to hell.
You’re not a weirdo for making facial expressions and mulling through your dialogue aloud. You. Are. A. Writer.
It’s OK if the Readers can’t always see exactly what you envisioned in your head, or the full extent of the picture you painted. We all see colors differently.
Don’t be afraid to experiment with your writing.
In fact, challenge yourself to dabble into a new plot/trope/concept every day, even if only for a few minutes. You may discover you love writing it.
There’s no rush to finish/begin any written work. If you take your time, you will make your mark. You’re not falling behind or running late. Slow down and wait for it. :)
Three cheers for hiatus.
Listen to your body and mind, know your limits and when it’s time to take a break.
Actually take a break. :)
If you feel like you’re falling stagnant in creativity, looking to/revisiting other forms of creative media can help encourage the flow.
Ask for encouragement, and be at peace with asking.
Take shelter in fellow writers. Uplift each other always.
You are/will be someone’s favorite author. :)
You don’t have anything to prove. You have something to share.
Someone is thinking about your work right now.
Someone started a series because they drew inspiration from you.
Personal writing style can reflect a lot on the state of one’s mental health. Try to always be attentive to that of your own.
Self-validation must be cultivated early on or nothing will ever work.
Freestyle every once in a while. Write a snippet, timed, and go—without editing. Write the first thing that comes to mind and go from there. Do it all the way through the set time. When it stops, you’ll find yourself unable to. 3,800 words here we come. :)
Not everything needs an outline. :)
It is completely normal to write your story out of order.
Create guidelines for yourself. If they aren’t working, toss ‘em.
Word vomiting can help you feel better (it’s just how it sounds). By clearing all those jumbled thoughts and scattered concepts, you achieve a clearer objective. Try it sometime.
A rough draft is supposed to be rough.
Sometimes the words come to you quicker than others. Be patient. That is merely the construct of a Writer’s mind. You’re a beautiful enigma.
A sentence written is a story progressing.
Writing is an endurance sport. You must pace yourself and exercise it daily.
You are still a Writer even when the words aren’t on the actual page.
You’re not obligated to a writing/posting schedule.
As you progress in your journey and gain more awareness, don’t sacrifice your style. Those beginning works are what define you. Hold onto them and don’t ever let them go.
You’re the only one cringing—
Remember that sometimes words are elusive and you don’t always have control over them, and that is OK. Sometimes they write themselves. Sometimes your characters come to life and break out into dance across your page. Dance with them. You can wrangle them back when the music stops. :)
There is nothing condemning or embarrassing about asking for a beta. Allow someone to help carry the load.
Allow people to cheer you on—even if they don’t read your work.
It’s OK if your writing style isn’t someone else’s preference.
Be your biggest cheerleader. Sometimes you are all you have.
You don’t need anyone’s approval except your own.
You love that trope/concept/story you just wrote? That’s all that matters. The end.
You will never write good. You will write you. And that is good.
Above all else: remember to write for you.🤍
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katkit-42 · 7 months ago
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Also, I'm not trying to be mean about the art style here, the show has a great art style and it does have a lot of variation in faces across the different groups but like. I also feel there's a lot of.... Not exactly "same face syndrome" but definitely "they reuse a lot of physical attributes because it's an animated show with a lot of characters so they can't spend all their time designing everyone to be unique syndrome" and "animated characters will often have fluctuating details between episodes due to different storyboarders/being off model/budget cuts/etc etc etc syndrome" and "the show wanted each nation's aesthetic to be the same within the nation to show how separated the four nations are, resulting in many characters being mostly identifiable via eye color, skin color, and the color of their clothes." So the fluctuating details of main characters plus the simplicity/reuse of certain attributes plus the art style itself makes it easy to find similarities where none were intended (in my opinion).
Like, the best example I can think of is Korra and Katara. People site their similarities a lot in their examples, but like. Korra and Katara came from the same tribe; they both have dark skin, dark hair, and blue eyes. Their faces are kinda same, but mostly in the way a lot of Southern/Northern water tribe women look. Like, I guess they look similar, but honestly, I think Katara's face is more similar to Yue's than Katara's is to Korra's. Mainly due to the eyes and nose--Katara and Yue's eyes are bigger on their faces than Korra's, and Korra has a stronger nose that takes up more of her face and makes her eyes comparatively smaller. And comparing grandma Katara to Korra is difficult as well because, well. Ones an old lady and the other is a young adult. And I personally don't really see the similarities in Ta Min and Aang beyond the art style + grey eye color. But even then, I can't really tell the similarities of the eye/nose/mouth shapes because sure, there's shots where Aang's eyes are similar shapes and his nose may look flat like Ta Min's, but there's also times where they look nothing alike due to Aang being the main character of an animated show. Further, the art style will often give younger boys and most women big eyes and round faces, but adult men will have smaller eyes, more defined jaws, and more prominent noses. Personally, I think Aang of ATLA looks just as much like Ta Min as Aang of LOK looks like young Sozin.
Though maybe Roku loved them both. We stan a bi king.
I do agree though that it's likely that it became a case of ascended fanon, at least in terms of the novel. Like I said, I don't think it's a completely terrible theory, I just think it's hard to find definite evidence in the animated show because of how animation and the art style works. Maybe next round, we'll see a earth bender with an amazing modelling career ahead of them.
Also, given how unsubtle the live action has been so far, I wonder if they'd have this theory by putting Aang's actor in a dress and have him play Ta Min. Ha ha, JK. Unless...
where does the idea that the avatar looks like the previous avatar's love fall on the spectrum
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at first i was gonna put it as unintentional but the novels giving yangchen a water tribe love interest makes me feel like at the very least f.c. yee saw the theory and incorporated it on purpose. everything else could've just been a coincidence where they happened to give two characters love interests from the next element in the cycle (rangi, katara) and design two characters similarly (aang & ta min) but with the yangchen novels in the mix it's just too many coincidences, especially bc i know that theory was floating around before the yangchen novels (maybe even the kyoshi novels too)
that said i don't really find it compelling. it's cute i guess? doesn't really add anything for me. it's not bad but i don't have strong feelings about it. except maybe that i don't really see it with ummi & kyoshi and i think maybe the roku & rangi and korra & katara things are just that they're from the same nation and have the same basic coloring. like it's a show with zero white people made for an english-speaking audience that includes a lot of white fans. there's a possibility that a fan theory based on characters looking alike might be wrong
ask game
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bvidzsoo · 3 years ago
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White Lilies
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 Author: bvidzsoo
 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader
 Warning: swearing, violence, mentions of death, stalking, breaking in, borderline toxic relationship, allude to some mental health conditions but never named
 Word count: 26, 815
 Summary: Your brother, Kim Doyoung, works for the police. Ever since you finished high school, you moved away from home with him and now you live in a big city. You struggle with different things, but the worst one is the tendency to stalk others. And one day when you walk inside a coffee shop and come across a very handsome stranger, you can’t help yourself, he becomes your next target. Jeon Wonwoo. But he isn’t innocent, you find that out the hard way.
 Taglist: @chal-kagyu​ @taeyongandfree​ @minkwans​ @itsdnguyenxoxo​ @rjsmochii​
 Unable to tag: @cheolliehugs @3rachaonlyfans @leahxxiong
 A/N: Here it is! The spin off to Poison, it can be read as a stand alone, if not check out the mini-series: Poison. Minor things will make more sense. I hope it doesn’t bother you that I tagged you for this too, since it’s connected in some ways. Now, there’s things I have written in this oneshot that are totally not okay and I am very conscious of them, so please, if you ever come across a stalker or someone who harassess you, please report them, your safety is very important. But this is fiction, and I’m allowed to write whatever I want to. All the sentences in italics are the voices that Y/N hears. Enjoy now and don’t forget to leave feeback!
           All mornings were usually the same, it was a routine I became accustomed to a long time again. Five years ago, actually, when Doyoung and I moved away from home. There is only a two-year difference between us, so it was easy for me to follow him, having been already done with high school. Doyoung completed the police academy and he was being promoted, brought to Seoul, so I packed up and left my old life in our hometown. Nothing tied me to that place, I never liked it there. My parents were hot headed and they always argued with me, trying to convince me to become a house wife, to find myself a wealthy man that would care for me and for our family. But it wasn’t what I needed; I had always been a free spirit. I liked to explore and disappear from civilization from time to time. Like in eleventh grade, when I sneaked out and disappeared for ten days, the whole city was looking for me. However, I was living in the woods, by the outskirts of the city, in a small hut with a nice, old lady. She moved there after she gave up her job, because she wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by nature only. When she saw me wandering around, she offered me some tea and I accepted it, surprised to see someone living there. The hut wasn’t deep inside the woods, but it still took me by surprise that a lady like her wasn’t afraid inside there all alone. I wasn’t a big fan of forests, but being surrounded by trees and the green scenery always calmed my erratic nature. It was hard for me to stay still sometimes, that’s why Doyoung and I would regularly go on runs, to try and use up my energy on something. In school, I didn’t do very well, but it didn’t bother me. I was able to finish high school and get a diploma, but I didn’t want to go to college. I found it a waste of time and money, I decided I would find something that I liked doing and would excel in it. And with the help of the old lady from the hut, I realized I had a passion for photography. I got my first camera from her, and ever since then I didn’t stop taking pictures. It became my passion and my hobby, it earned me money. I was known for taking nature pictures, sometimes even of animals, and I had my own little blog where I posted all of my works. Sometimes I’d have my pictures put up in galleries for expositions, I earned well during those events. The small house Doyoung and I lived in, was full of all the pictures I took. We lived in a homey, quiet neighborhood, deep inside the heart of the city. Doyoung earned well and my salary always fluctuated, that’s why I decided to stay with my big brother, at least until I had gathered enough money to live on my own.
The house smelled of bacon and peppermint tea as I opened the window of my room, letting the fresh morning air in. I was already dressed for the day, camera packed safely inside my bag, waiting for a call. I wore dark velvet cotton pants and an oversized grey sweater with a deep V, due to which it fell off my shoulders. Ankle high heel boots and a few necklaces I used as accessories complimented the look. It was becoming warmer and warmer outside, which was great, because I never liked wearing coats. Besides, I rarely needed them, I had the unusual trait of not exactly feeling the cold. I was always underdressed during winter and it scared some people, especially Doyoung because he had the impression that I’d catch a cold, but it’s just how my body was, always too hot. I checked my phone to be sure that Mark didn’t decide to text me instead of calling me, but seeing there was nothing, I closed the window and took my bag, leaving my room. I closed the door after me, a habit I had, and headed inside the kitchen. Doyoung was in his police uniform already, moving around quietly the kitchen.
“Good morning!” I called loudly, sitting at the table, with my chin in my hand.
“Good morning.” Doyoung greeted, quieter, and turned around with a plate and mug in his hands. He placed them in front of me and I grinned, thanking him. I took the fork and dug into my breakfast, humming at how tasty it was. Even if our mornings were always the same, the breakfast wasn’t. Doyoung always had something up his sleeves, either trying out new recipes he searched up late at night, or just trying to replicate mother’s old recipes. I took a sip of the peppermint tea and pursed my lips, giving Doyoung a thumbs up as he closed the stove and turned to sit with his own plate and mug in his hands. He chuckled and mirror my thumbs up, before starting to eat too. We ate in silence, it’s how we were in the mornings, quiet. It was the only time Doyoung could savor the silence, because it was the only time I was silent. My hyperactivity followed me through all stages of life, I still struggled with staying still…that amongst other things.
Doyoung cleared his throat and I glanced at him, before checking my phone again, “What are your plans for today?”
“Ah, the usual.” I answered with a smile, trying to look nonchalant, so that he wouldn’t realize I was lying, “I’ll just go to the park and take some pictures if I find something I like.”
Doyoung nodded and took a bite of his bacon, “Don’t you think it’s time to…find a more stable work?”
“Like what?”
“Getting employed at a studio, maybe? You know…you could go to weddings, birthdays…all kinds of events to take pictures.” Doyoung’s suggestion was friendly, but it still angered me. I left home because I didn’t want to hear the constant nagging of our parents, but here he was, doing the same thing.
“I’m a nature photographer. And I wouldn’t like working inside a studio, or whatever.” I said a little harshly, making Doyoung sigh.
“I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do,” He knew how I could react to these things, he knew how much anxiety my parents induced when they would try and tell me what to do with my own life, “It was just a brotherly advice, because I worry about you.”
“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed cheerily, my phone ringing at the same time. I shot my hand out to grab it and answered the phone, already knowing who the caller was.
“Target is getting ready to leave, he’ll be at the same Coffee Shop he was for the past week.” Was all the person said before I hung up, stuffing the rest of the food inside my mouth hurriedly. I scrambled up from the chair and clumsily threw my phone inside my bag, trying to chug down the peppermint tea at the same time.
“Who was that?”
“Just some person trying to sell me something—” A burp I couldn’t control surfaced and Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, but I just gave him an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you after work.”
I pressed a hasty kiss against his cheek, then raced to my car and unlocked it, throwing my bag inside before getting in. I would have to get to the Coffee Shop before the target gets there, to choose a good spot. This is what Doyoung didn’t know about me. I wasn’t just a nature photographer, I worked together with his colleague, Mark, whose job was to gather information about the targets the police had. He was really good at it, but sometimes he couldn’t gather enough information by sitting behind a computer. That’s where I come in play, I go out and stalk his targets. A year ago, Doyoung had a gathering with the colleagues he was closer to and I was invited too. Mark got really drunk and I offered to drive him home, that’s when he started telling me about his work. About how he already almost got fired twice, because his information wasn’t good enough or it was lacking. And because I was always seeking new experiences and new adventures, I proposed to help him. Of course, he’d have to pay me, but I’d stalk the targets for as long as he’d need me to. Until all information that was needed was gathered for him, which he could turn into a report and pass onto the higherups. He accepted without a second thought in his drunken haze and I was beyond happy; but I asked him to keep it a secret, especially from Doyoung. If my brother were to find out, he’d definitely either lock me up in our basement or send me back home, both were things I wouldn’t be able to survive. And being in this city was good for me, it was big enough that it distracted me from my other issues. Back in my hometown, everyone knew almost everyone and it was too easy to find someone you wanted to know. Which was bad for me, bad for someone who had stalking tendencies. That’s why I have been working with Mark for a year now, I was just too good, no one ever discovered me or my identity. I knew how to stay low-key and I knew how to work around the targets without them noticing that someone was trailing them almost 24/7. Having this job, it distracted me from getting infatuated with anyone, I didn’t have the time anymore. And it was a lot more thrilling to be trailing different people each month. It was a distraction from the dark voices in my head, which tried telling me that the next man that appeared around the corner could have been the love of my life. Or the woman that I ran into at the flower shop, could have been my soulmate. I hated those thoughts, and I battled with them my whole life. I used to take medication, it silenced them while I was a teen, but it still didn’t stop me from stalking others. So, as I grew older, I stopped taking them and I started spending more time in nature, where I was alone. Photography wasn’t just a job for me, it was my own therapy.
           Everything was set up perfectly, I grinned widely as I leaned back in my seat. My bag was on the chair next to me, the camera placed on the table. For this to work, I needed as many people as there were inside the Coffee Shop to see it. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t bad and I got here five minutes before the target. I sat close to the exit, from where I could see the whole shop well and could run away too if something happened. The target too was really transparent, he sat at the same table he’s been sitting at for the past week. Next to the big windows, behind his table there were a bunch of plants decorating the place and a painting of flowers was hung above it. Which was perfect for me, my plan was coming together. The target has already ordered his coffee, so now it was my time to do something. I took my wallet and walked up to the barista, having hung the camera around my neck. The weight of it was comforting, having worn it for so long, that it became something familiar. I smiled at the barista and looked over the menu behind her, acting like I was thinking of what I wanted, offering her enough time to take in my attire closely.
“I’ll have Caramel Macchiato.” Finally, I told her and she nodded, returning the smile, as I handed her the money.
“A name?” I was glad this wasn’t the barista who took my orders the other times, I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wouldn’t come to this Coffee Shop either way anymore after I was done with this job.
“Y/N.” I answered the barista and she nodded, passing the cup with my name written on it, to her colleague. She printed the receipt and handed it to me, her eyes falling onto my camera. As there was no customer behind me at the moment, she looked at me curiously.
“You’re a photographer?” She asked as the coffee brewer started making loud noises.
“A nature photographer!” I told her with excitement and the barista nodded her head, offering me a friendly smile.
“I tried it once, it wasn’t made for me.” We chuckled at her words and I just shrugged.
“It requires patience and technique, for sure.” I said and she nodded her head in agreement, “By the way…this floral arrangement—”
And then I turned my body sideways, eyes falling on the target. He was just a few feet away, I made sure to speak even louder, so that he would hear me, “The floral arrangement is so pretty! Do you mind if I take pictures of it?”
The barista thought about it as my drink was done and handed to me by the other worker, “I don’t think it’s a problem, go ahead!”
“Thank you!” I bowed my head a little and she bid me farewell. My plan was working, I just needed to do one more thing. So, with the most innocent expression I could muster up, I approached the target. I knew he heard the conversation between me and the barista, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was about to do.
“Sir, excuse me—” I spoke softly, almost shyly, “Do you mind if I take pictures of this floral arrangement? You won’t be in frame at all.”
“Go ahead.” He answered me with a very uninterested shrug, the wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than the age Mark told me. I bowed my head and placed my Caramel Macchiato on top of his table, turning on my camera. I kneeled on one knee and started snapping photos of the plants, pursing my lips, trying to get the perfect angle. Then I rose to my feet, and took another one, the painting above it being included in the shot too.
“I’ll take some more from my own table, just letting you know…” I spoke up again, but the man wasn’t paying attention to me. I smirked a little, grabbing my drink from his table, cradling it in both of my hands. With a victorious look on my face, I turned with enthusiasm and took a step forward blindly. My body slammed into another body, and we both yelped loudly. Mine was high pitched, but the other one was deep and almost guttural. My heart started thumping in my chest loudly, taken aback by the accident, and hopeful that I didn’t spill my drink on my favorite sweater nor on the person I ran into.
“I’m so—” But when I looked up, I was left breathless. The man standing in front of me was frowning, looking over himself, to check if anything got spilled on him. Thankfully, the lid of the drink was put on really well and the way I was holding the cup stopped it from spilling out. The thumping of my heart became deafening and all I could see suddenly was the man standing in front of me.
He’s the one. Don’t let him slip past your fingertips.
The dark voice, however, quickly snapped me out of the state I almost got lost in. The target, I’m here on a very serious mission, Mark’s counting on me. But the man’s eyes would be forever ebbed inside my mind, I knew I would think about his sharp, fox like eyes before going to sleep tonight…or every night. Round glasses sat on his long nose and he pushed them up with his long fingers, they almost fell off at the impact. When his lips started moving, all I could see was the redness of them and how deep his Cupid’s bow was. Then I snapped out of it, eyebrows furrowing as I totally missed what he just said.
“Uh—I’m really sorry.” I said awkwardly, stepping back when I realized how close our bodies were to each other.
“It’s fine, you didn’t spill any on me…or you.” His eyes went to the sweater I was wearing for a second before he looked back up. His deep voice sent goosebumps down my skin and I very visibly shivered, but I wasn’t cold. The dark blue hoodie this handsome stranger wore seemed to be alright.
“Yeah, I didn’t spill it…” My mind felt like it was made out of gum, I had no coherent thoughts and it made me feel awkward. Taking a last glance at the handsome stranger, noting how his black hair was clumsily parted above his left eye, I bowed, and then willed myself to move away.
He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.
I walked back to my table and took a seat, taking a deep breath in. I can’t let myself get distracted. I run into strangers all the time; this handsome, deep voiced man wasn’t different at all. I couldn’t let the voices get to me, I had to focus on the target. So, I took a big gulp of my Caramel Macchiato and then looked at the target. He was tapping the table almost nervously, so I turned on my camera again and took two pictures of him, then one of the floral arrangement to make sure it didn’t look suspicious. I looked around the Coffee Shop and my eyes fell on the handsome stranger, who was laughing with the barista. What could they have been talking about? The jingling of the door snapped me out of my own thoughts and I watched as a tall woman, wearing a business suit, walked inside. Her hair was in a low ponytail and she looked fairly young, I almost lost interest in her, but then she sat across from the target. I took another picture of the floral arrangement and then snapped a bunch of pictures of the two, making sure the woman’s face could be seen well in all. There was movement in the corner of my eyes and I saw the stranger sitting at a table close to the front desk.
You should snap a picture of him too.
I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink, the target and the young woman got up from their table, and I quickly went to grab my bag and pushed my camera inside. As I stood up, a name was called.
“Wonwoo?” And I saw the handsome stranger stand up and walk up to the barista to take his drink. Wonwoo, that’s his name. But I shook my head and waved at the barista with a cheerful smile as I quickly left the Coffee Shop, eyes narrowing to see the couple. To my luck, they were walking on the other side of the road, so I remained on this side and fished out my camera.
So, you’ll leave Wonwoo for that pathetic old man and the woman? He’s not more important?
I shook my head and snapped a few pictures as I walked on the sidewalk, getting to a cross. I crossed the road and cursed when they disappeared around the corner, I had to speed up; and threw the cup in the trash bin as I have finished my drink. I looked around once I turned the corner and panicked for a second, thinking I lost the target. But suddenly, I spotted them sitting on a bench in the park, so I headed that way. I started taking pictures of the river and the few birds sitting by the shore, then of the trees that have blossomed already. The white cherry blossoms were beautiful and I smiled to myself as a light breeze brushed my hair. Then I willed myself to focus again and turned the camera towards the target and the woman, who had decided to take a walk. There was a decent distance between them and I, and to anyone else, it would look like I’m taking pictures of the nature; which I was still kind of doing. The couple walked around for at least five minutes, and I decided to sit on a bench and watch them from there, putting on my shades as the sun was directly in front of me. I was just about to snap a picture of a little duck family, but the woman leaned in towards the target and I quickly started snapping pictures of them. It looked like she whispered something in his ear and then a kiss was pressed against the target’s cheek and the woman walked the opposite way they have come in. I snapped pictures of her alone too before turning back towards the target, who was on his phone. He was on the other side of the river, and I couldn’t have reached him in time, or follow him, my car was ten minutes away from here. So, I just continued snapping more pictures, and my eyebrows furrowed when someone got into the frame. The black hair covered the side of the picture, and I moved a little to the left, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I snapped pictures of the license plate and of the target as he got inside the car, seeing someone already inside of it. I smirked to myself as the car drove away and pulled my phone out, going to my contacts. I pressed the icon next to the name ‘Money Bag’ and it dialed the number.
“Anything?” Mark picked up on the first ring.
“A young chick showed up, but they split up and I lost both. My car wasn’t close enough.”
“That’s fine, where are you now?”
“At the park, by the river.”
“Okay, meet me in front of the town hall.” I hung up and placed everything inside my bag as I started walking back to my car, enjoying the weather and the warm sunlight. Spring was finally around the corner, it was the perfect time to snap pictures of nature, or at least, my favorite time. As a second thought, I took my camera into my hands and turned it on, curious of how the nature pictures turned out. I scrolled past the ones of the target and woman, and chuckled when the one with the ducks came into view. They were cute, people would like this. As I continued looking through the pictures, the ones where someone got into them, made me frown. I was about to delete them, but my finger paused. Black hair, sharp jaw, long nose, round glasses.
You know you can’t delete it. You can’t fight the urge, can’t you? Wonwoo’s the one, listen to us!
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           The town hall wasn’t far from the park, so I didn’t bother driving there. Besides, I liked taking walks. It helped with calming me, even though I was desperately in need of a run right now. After waking up, Doyoung and I go straight for a run, but I slept in this morning and I’m sure Doyoung woke up later too as he worked until late last night. He said his boss, Sana, was making him work extra hours because she was sniffing around a very powerful mafia leader. I was aware of the illegal things some people did, sometimes the people I had to stalk for Mark weren’t the brightest, I was well aware of that, but I was never offered information about them. It was Mark’s way of protecting me from harm, which I didn’t think did much. If I was caught, they wouldn’t care if I knew or not things about them, I probably would have been still tortured. Which is why I asked Mark to keep the details to himself, if I knew that I was stalking a mafia leader or some other gang member, I probably would’ve been too scared to go through with the procedure.  
I was shifting my weight from one leg to another as I stood waiting around for Mark, pouting when I looked down at my wrist watch. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes; I was becoming really bored. I took my phone and sent a text to Doyoung, checking up on him.
From Doyoung: Just had my lunch break, I’ll be heading back to work. It’s possible I’ll be back late once again.
To Doyoung: No problem, I’ll leave some dinner for you.
From Doyoung: What are you up to?
To Doyoung: I’ll be going for a run in a few minutes, see you at home!
From Doyoung: Take care of yourself!
I smiled and as I looked up, Mark was walking towards me. I started waving at him with a big grin, my phone almost fell from my grip, but I managed to steady it. Mark was wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. If this was him trying to be casual, he was failing.
“Stop drawing attention to us!” He said with a hiss as he came to a stop in front of me and I frowned.
“That’s not how you should treat someone so important to your team.” I said and Mark rolled his eyes, extending one hand. He was gripping some cash and I took it with a grin, quickly placing it inside my bag.
“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said teasingly and Mark rolled his eyes again, I handed him the memory card, “Take good care of it! And don’t delete the other pictures I took; some came out really well!”
“I won’t.” He said with a grin and then looked down at the card, “Your job is done here, wait until I contact you again. You could go on a vacation or something.”
I laughed quietly, giving Mark a look, “Yes, captain, I might just do that.”
Mark shook his head before taking off with a wave, I waved back and then turned to walk inside the second-hand shop. I greeted the lady and told her I just wanted to change inside the cabin, so she left me alone. I changed my normal attire into my running one. Yoga pants and adidas, a black top with a fluffy hoodie over it. I pulled my hair in a low bun and stuffed everything inside my big bag, it’s why I carried it around. Random runs were the best, always exciting as I never knew where I felt like going for one. I smiled at the lady from front desk as I left the shop, heading for my car. The walk was quick because I tried to hurry up, excited to go for the run. Once I got to my car, I placed my bag inside and then locked it, having my phone and keys in the pocket of the hoodie. I headed back to the park where I took the pictures of the target and woman, and first did a little warm up. I stretched my legs out and back a little, and then started running. I took steady breaths as I ran down the path, my pace not very fast but not slow either. My heartrate picked up as I continued running and I marveled in the peace around me. The scenery brought a smile onto my lips as I ran past some couples; I willed my mind to stop thinking. It was a hard thing to do at first, I was always thinking of something, but I had to learn due to the dark voices that would sometimes push me into doing things. I could ignore them, now better than when I was younger, but it was still difficult. The problem was, they could drive me crazy, I couldn’t ignore them forever, and in times like those, I would disappear. Doyoung hated it when I did that, but I haven’t had an episode like that in long.
But you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo. You want him, you know it. You can’t lock us away anymore, Y/N, we are here. Wonwoo wants you too. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you? He fell for you, Y/N, listen to us once again. Do it. Just ask Mark. He’ll find him in a second for you. You didn’t delete his picture; you have his name—
A loud shout left my lips as I tumbled over some rocks that were on the path, but thankfully I didn’t fall. My eyebrows furrowed as I crouched down to hug my knees against my chest. I can’t let the voices get to me. I can’t let one stranger fuck up what I built up with so much struggle. I couldn’t let a stranger rule my life. I wouldn’t let the voices get to me, no matter what. I was stronger than that. With a deep breath, chest rising and falling quickly, I turned around and started running back. The energy burst I had this morning seemed to have disappeared, which was a good sign. I would have to take a bath at home and then cook some dinner, edit the pictures I took today after Mark drops off the memory card and post them on my blog. Well, that settles it then, I smiled as I came to the end of the path. I slowed down to a walk and took deep breaths, leveling my breathing. I turned to walk on the sidewalk and felt the breeze brush my hair once again, making me shiver a little bit. My body was warm from the run and I concluded that sitting inside my warm car while I was sweaty was probably a better idea than spending more time outside, in the cold breezy weather. But my mind went numb when I saw the black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book in his hands. My feet were still moving, but it felt like I wasn’t in control of it anymore. The Universe was really testing me today. I bit my lower lip and unconsciously grabbed my phone inside my pocket.
No, the Universe is doing for you what you didn’t want to do, Y/N. He’s right there, sitting on that bench, waiting for you. How could you let this opportunity slip past your fingertips? You want it, so do it.
I didn’t realize it until it was too late, my finger had already pressed the button, a picture of Wonwoo having been taken. I hated myself for doing it, but it felt like all stress finally left my body. I felt at ease, I wasn’t fighting with my thoughts anymore, with the dark voices. In the end, I really didn’t have a choice but to fall back into my old habits. And I was doing so well, until Wonwoo showed up. What will Doyoung think if he finds out? I can’t be sent to a psychic ward again, it wouldn’t help. They never help; I hate the medication they give me. I can survive without them too. Maybe if I stalk him for a week or two, I can get rid of the voices and go back to how I was before meeting him. But I pressed the button again, another picture snapped of Wonwoo. I wasn’t walking anymore, I was rooted in one place, mouth hanging open as I gazed at Wonwoo in awe. I must have looked hilarious, crazy even, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away; I couldn’t even move. But then suddenly, he didn’t flip the page of the book like he was planning to do, instead, he looked up. And his eyes fell on me, as if he felt that I was looking at him, and I jumped. His furrowed eyebrows snapped me out of my delirium, his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine and suddenly I found myself running away. I didn’t care what he thought, I was ashamed that I let the voices control me; it was time I headed home. It would be safer for everyone else if I just stayed at home.
That’s our girl, you’re doing amazing.
           The first thing I did once I got home was clean the house, my blood was boiling as I lost grip of the voices, which kept celebrating for I have taken those two pictures of Wonwoo in the park. In that rage, I deleted them from my phone and threw my phone in the trash bin I had in my room, slamming the door shut as I went to the bathroom to grab what I needed to clean the house. I turned on music, played it loudly too, blocking out the noises coming from outside, but the voices in my mind too. Due to my rage, I was done in almost two hours, it usually would take longer if someone tried to clean the house alone, we had a lot of stuff despite it not being a big house. Once I calmed down, I went to the kitchen and made some ramen, sweet potatoes made in the oven, and some seasoned pork. I went and bought beer for Doyoung and myself, and after putting them in the fridge, I decided to check my phone to see if anyone tried looking for me. It was six in the afternoon and I hoped Doyoung didn’t think that I was kidnapped…well, he’d actually know that. For my own safety, he installed an app on my phone that could track me. I only accepted it because I knew he worried a lot about me, Doyoung and I had a strong bond and the episodes I had always broke him mentally, I tried to be a better person for him too.
From Doyoung: I don’t think the ramens in the cupboard are still edible. Text me if you get home!
To Doyoung: Well, I cooked those ramens, so now they are edible! Sorry, I cleaned the house so I wasn’t around my phone…
From Doyoung: Cleaned the house? Are you feeling alright?
I chuckled at the fast reply, no surprise Sana made him stay plus hours if he hung on his phone while on duty.
To Doyoung: Don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly fine! I hope Sana pays you well if you stay after working hours!
From Doyoung: Don’t worry about that, she stays with me.
To Doyoung: Oh! Someone’s getting it!
I laughed as Doyoung started typing back, imagining his angry and flustered face.
From Doyoung: Don’t be silly, Y/N!
To Doyoung: Okay, bye!
I laughed as I walked to the bathroom, turning on the warm water to have a bath. After the long day I had today, I deserved a warm, relaxing bath. I got a message from Mark, a thumbs up, and I knew the memory card was in the mailbox, so I quickly jumped into some shoes and ran outside to retrieve it. I locked the front gate, Doyoung had keys too, and then hurried back inside the house. I placed the memory card on my desk and then proceeded to undress while walking back to the bathroom. I turned the faucet off and threw some bath salts into the water, pulling my hair in a high bun. I shut the blinds of the bathroom and sighed, biting my lower lip. Would it be so bad if I asked Mark to look up Wonwoo a little bit? I wouldn’t try to do anything, I just wanted to know him better? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? I picked up my phone reluctantly as I sat on the side of the bathtub, easing my legs into the water. I went to my gallery and to the pictures I deleted, they didn’t get instantly deleted from my phone, they were stored there for another month before finally getting deleted off the device. I selected the two pictures of Wonwoo and sent them to Mark.
To Mark: His name is Wonwoo. Remember that favor you have going on? Return it by looking this guy up.
I threw the phone onto the clothing pile that was on the ground by the bathtub and lowered myself into the water, feeling bad that I couldn’t resist the urge. It was too easy with Mark, when I was a teenager, I would do everything by myself. It was thrilling to run after someone, watch them from a distance not knowing if they would notice you or not. And if they indeed noticed you, you could always play it off somehow. But this was safer, I couldn’t risk falling back into my old habits. It was like gambling or drugs…you needed rehabilitation from it, but the yearning never really goes away. I hated myself for doing this, but without the medication I so refused to take, I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t admit that to others or myself, living in a lie was always easier. But tonight, I would allow myself to live in a fantasy.
·       Name: Jeon Wonwoo
·       Birth date: 1996. 07.17.
·       Height: 1,82 m
·       Siblings: Kim Mingyu, apparently they are both adopted
·       Job: Chauffeur of a business man
·       Places he’s frequently seen at: National library, Sunday Gym, Red Corner bookstore, various parks around his neighborhood, hiking trails around the forest, Soul BBQ, Sky Blue headquarters
·       Car: red Mercedes CLS class
·       Additional things I found about him: It seems like he has thirteen close friends, he lives with his adopted brother; but I couldn’t find the address anywhere. Surveillance cameras say that he usually goes to read in the park, by the river, and he drinks a lot of coffee. I’m pretty sure he wears glasses, but there’s few pictures of him wearing it. I’m sorry, Y/N, for some reason this is everything I could find about him. He’s got a clean record, and even the little information I gave you I could barely find. Something’s fishy, but maybe he really isn’t that interesting. I wouldn’t bother with someone like him. P.S. Don’t tell anyone I helped you gain information on him, they’ll fire me!
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       The birds chirping were the first thing I heard as I woke up, then the hurried knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, voice hoarse from having just woken up, and the knocking stopped.
“Get up, it’s almost 9 am!” Doyoung’s voice called from the other side of the door and I sighed, burying my head in my pillow, “I’m heading in to work later. I can drive you to wherever you want to go, if you want me to.”
That definitely got my attention as I raised my head, “Okay!”
I cleared my throat and jumped up into a seated position, looking around my bed. Printed pictures lingered scattered around the blanket and my laptop was on the verge of falling off, so I grabbed it and got out of bed. I walked to my desk and placed it on top of it, leaning against the edge of the glass. I looked down at the pictures that were on my bed and decided, that I would do this. I stayed up until late night to research myself as much as I could about Wonwoo, but he had no social media. I found a few yearbook photos of him, but they didn’t help with much. Mark was right, he seemed to be a very boring person…he almost felt like a ghost, like his real identity was buried deep down. And that was exciting, so, if Doyoung had already offered to give me a lift, I could just head to the Red Corner bookstore and check it out for myself. Hopefully, Wonwoo would be there. I still don’t know his schedule, but if I start lurking around the places Mark told me about, I can very easily follow Wonwoo around once he shows up.
After having breakfast with Doyoung, we both got dressed and I gave him instructions to the Red Corner bookstore and we were off, rolling down the busy streets of the city. My fingers were tapping against my knees in excitement as I tried to stay still, trying not to alert Doyoung that I was feeling excited about something. But he was my brother, and he noticed.
“I didn’t know going to a bookstore could make you excited.” He raised an eyebrow and I chuckled, shaking my head.
“It’s not that, I’m just in a good mood!” I tried to lie, but Doyoung just shook his head; I knew he didn’t believe me.
“So…now you suddenly like to read?” He asked with a teasing grin and I scoffed, turning to look at him.
“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I always liked to read!”
“Fashion magazines, maybe.” I huffed and it made Doyoung laugh as he drove through an intersection. Once Doyoung was done laughing, he cleared his throat and briefly glanced at me.
“You wouldn’t be so excited about books unless you’re stalking someone.” I failed to pick up on the playfulness in his voice, the way he bit his lower lip to try and stay serious. My heart started suddenly beating really fast and my grip tightened around the seatbelt, my whole body became tense. How did he realize? Did he walk inside my room while I was sleeping? Was it something in my words that gave it away? Did I get worse at hiding my feelings? I could feel Doyoung’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t move out of fear. I was scared of what was coming next and ashamed. But then, Doyoung gasped and I had to look at him.
“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, panic lacing his words, and I became confused, “I didn’t mean to say that—I—I worded that so badly, Y/N—”
“Oh,” I chuckled, trying to collect myself, “No, it was a joke! I totally get it!”
I couldn’t believe I almost gave myself away. He had no idea; he was just teasing me! I chuckled again, feeling at ease as I turned to look at Doyoung again. “Seriously, I totally got your joke!”
“I’m still sorry—” My laughter interrupted Doyoung and he just shook his head, still looking guilty.
“I could become an actress if my reaction made you react like this.” But in truth, my reaction was genuine and I was so thankful that Doyoung didn’t realize that. He could read people very easily, but maybe as he was driving he couldn’t focus fully, which was great for me. Doyoung sighed and he pulled up to the sidewalk, looking at the Red Corner bookstore, which was just across the road. I smiled and unbuckled the seatbelt; I pressed a kiss against Doyoung’s cheek then got out. He offered me a small wave before driving away. I took a deep breath and smiled, looking around the street. It didn’t look like a very busy neighborhood; a few people were walking here and there. To my right there were many narrow alleys that lead to the main road, and I took off down the street. Why would Wonwoo come to a bookstore in this side of the city if he could go to the big one at the mall? Wonderingly, I crossed the street and carefully approached the bookstore. It wasn’t open yet, so I figured I could go to the coffee shop I saw while Doyoung drove us here. The bookstore would only open in half an hour, I still had time. I walked down the street with a skip in my steps, smiling widely. I had a feeling today was going to be a successful day, but for that I needed Mark to leave me alone. I was hoping he wouldn’t get a new case for at least a week, the potentiality of following Wonwoo around without him knowing had me in a very good mood. Sleeping on the choices I took yesterday definitely did well, I wasn’t feeling as bad about as I was yesterday. Yes, it was still wrong what I was doing, but as long as no one got harmed, it wasn’t something very bad!
I entered the coffee shop and walked to the front desk, ordering my usual drink of choice. When it was done, I walked to a table and took a seat, it was by the window, and took a sip of the Caramel Macchiato. I watched the people who passed by and took another sip, relaxing in the chair, feeling content. The melody playing in the shop was pleasant and I bobbed my head to the rhythm. The bell chimed and I watched the beautiful girl that walked in, her hair was dark brown and wavy. She had bangs and she was tall, definitely a beauty.
You could follow her too, she’s your type. If Wonwoo backfires, you have an alternative.
I almost laughed out loud at the words whispered to me by the dark voices, feeling truly entertained. It was so easy to find someone, like I said, it could be literally anyone. If I found them attractive, nothing was stopping me from stalking them. But I shook my head, took another sip of the drink, and ignored the voices. I wouldn’t let them take full control over me. And as the beautiful girl waited at the front desk, my back straightened as a very familiar red Mercedes came into view. It was Wonwoo’s car. My heart started thumping quickly and for a second I didn’t know what do to, so I relaxed into the seat, trying to stay low-key. The beautiful girl saw my sudden reaction and she looked at me concerned, but I just smiled at her, trying to show her that I was fine. When she turned her back on me, I grabbed my phone and quickly went to the camera, snapping a picture through the window. Wonwoo couldn’t be seen, all windows of the car were tinted, but he didn’t get out. I quickly locked my phone when I heard the heels of the girl getting closer as she walked by me and I waited patiently until she was out of the shop before I sprung onto my feet. My knees accidentally knocked into the table and it took the barista off guard, I hurriedly went up to her and handed back the now empty glass, thanking her for her services. She gave me a funny look but I ignored her as I almost ran out of the coffee shop.
“Bye!” I called to her with a wave before exiting, and stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Wonwoo’s car was still there, but I didn’t know if he was in there or not, so walking up to it would have been too risky.
Oh, here comes the fun we’ve been all missing.
My whole body was shaking in excitement as I thought of my next move, deciding to walk by the bookstore. I could peek inside and see if Wonwoo was in there or not, the windows were big enough to see everything from the outside. So, I started moving, fingers tapping against my palm anxiously, heart thumping wildly. This was always exciting, but also nerve wrecking. I had to move without being seen…or recognized. But, I was sure Wonwoo had already forgotten my face, I was just an ordinary, clumsy girl who almost spilled her coffee on him.
No, the image of your face has been forever printed into his mind, Y/N. He’s watching you, just like you are watching him.
I stopped walking, the woman behind me almost ran into me as she was taken off by my sudden lack of movement. She gave me a glare, but I ignored her. I was right in front of the bookstore and my heart was beating even faster. What did the voices mean? Does Wonwoo know that I’m stalking him? That can’t possibly be true…why would he…
Are you the only person that stalks in this world?
I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, trying to block the voices. The thought of that creeped me out and I didn’t want to think about being possibly stalked. Then I mustered the courage and looked inside, seeing two girls at the front desk. No trace of Wonwoo, however, as I looked around the place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I walked by and rounded the corner, leaning against the red cobblestone wall. Well, if Wonwoo wasn’t inside, he must still be in his car. Which is bad, because Doyoung drove me here. I didn’t think I’d have success on my first day of keeping my eyes on him, so I didn’t find coming with a car necessary. But now, I regretted my decision. With a sigh, I took my phone in my hand and was about to search for a cab, but then I heard laughter. Deep laughter. Coming from around the corner. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the corner, he was standing there. Wearing light blue jeans and a turtleneck, his dark hair in his eyes and round glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose. I quietly exhaled, taken by the sight in front of me. Wonwoo laughed again, his voice was still deep, his laughter was short but warm. The way his lips pulled up into a huge smile it melted away the cold expression I’ve seen him have in the pictures I found of him. His eyes didn’t look as menacing anymore. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I snapped a few pictures, hopeful that I caught his smiling face. But he was with the beautiful girl, and she was touching his arm. So then does Wonwoo have a girlfriend? And it’s the beautiful girl from the coffee shop? It isn’t impossible.
You could have both…or you could get rid of one…
“Shut up!” I hissed, and quickly ducked back behind the red cobblestone wall, scared that they heard me. They were a good distance away, and there was noise on the street, but I could never be too sure. I hated the dark voices, especially when they suggested getting rid of someone. I could never do it; I didn’t want to. I would go too low, I would disappoint Doyoung so much. If I killed someone, he’d be the one putting me behind bars. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, pain I caused for him. I didn’t want him to suffer or worry for me anymore, he’s had enough of it while we were still young kids.
The slamming of the bookstore door snapped me out of my thoughts and nervously, I peeked around the corner again, seeing Wonwoo walking away. He was headed towards his car, so I didn’t bother following him at first, but when he went past it without getting in, I grinned. He wasn’t leaving just yet, that means I can follow him around! Fixing my hair and keeping my phone in my hand for comfort, I took off after Wonwoo, keeping a safe distance between us.
And I had a very successful day. Wonwoo stayed in the neighborhood for three hours, just walking around. I snapped plenty of pictures of him, ones I would have to copy on my laptop the second I got home and delete them off my phone. He did go and had breakfast at a tiny local restaurant, which had amazing food by the way. They had some traditional cake that I haven’t eaten before, and I made a mental note to return there from time to time. Maybe with Doyoung, he’s always had a sweet tooth. Then Wonwoo went for a short walk in the park, before he went back to the bookstore. He came out with a book and then went behind the bookstore, to a playground, sat underneath a big willow tree and read. For two hours, he didn’t move from there. His hair was moved by the breeze from time to time, his lips pursed sometimes, and eyebrows furrowed every once in a while. His glasses kept falling off and he had to push them up every five minutes. I’m assuming when something was interesting or tense, he’d bite his lip or thumb, eyes running over quickly the words on the white pages. I took a picture and I was able to see the title of the book, ‘I’ll be gone in the dark’. So, he was into crime books, I looked up and smiled in his direction. He just became more and more mysterious. I was aching to know who he truly was, what he truly liked, I was yearning to hear his beautiful laughter again. And as if Wonwoo finally noticed that someone was watching him, he looked up. And he looked at me. We made eye contact, my heart started beating like crazy, my hands shook.
What will you do now Y/N? Isn’t this just thrilling?
But suddenly a tap on my knee made me jump. I looked down confused and saw a little boy grinning up at me. My eyebrows rose as I watched him; he had his hands behind his back.
“Hello?” I asked confused, glancing around to see if he was with anyone. A couple elderly people were by the entrance of the playground, chatting. He was probably with one of them.
“Hi!” The boy said shyly and I offered him a warm smile.
“Can I help you? Are you lost?” I asked him, making sure that he wasn’t here alone.
“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle, then looked down. I chuckled and looked at him confused; he was shifting his weight from one leg to another.
“You’ve been sitting here for a long time,” He suddenly said as he looked back at me, “Aren’t you cold?”
I didn’t know how to answer him, he took me off guard. What was a little boy doing, talking to a stranger?
“My jacket is thick, I’m not cold—”
“Do you like that man?” When the little boy suddenly pointed at Wonwoo, my heart jumped into my throat. I was praying he wasn’t looking my way anymore, and thankfully; he wasn’t. Actually, he was gone. Disappointment settled in and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to spot him.
“He’s gone.” I whispered, standing up abruptly. My legs were sore, my ass actually hurt. I should have moved around, not sat there unmoving for two hours straight.
“This is for you.” The little boy chuckled and I looked back down at him; he was holding a little white flower. I took it from him confused, but he just grinned at me and then ran off. What a strange encounter that was. But after that, I went back to the bookstore, and Wonwoo’s car was gone. He had left. That meant I was done for the day, he could’ve been anywhere, and I was actually really cold. So, I called a cab and went home, changed and then went for a long run. I needed to clear my mind, block the voices that were so violently trying to dictate me my next move. I wouldn’t let them rule over me, I was the one in charge of myself and my actions.
After I got home, I showered and cooked some dinner, then I sat in the living room with the TV on as I copied all the pictures I took of Wonwoo onto my laptop. My cheeks felt warm as I looked at them again. I printed two, one where Wonwoo was smiling and one while he was sitting underneath the tree. The breeze had picked up and his hair was blown all around, he was pushing up his glasses, his lips in a tight line. The pictured offered me calmness and as I was looking at it, the front door got unlocked. Franticly, I closed my laptop and threw the two pictures into the folder I was using to store everything I had on Wonwoo. Doyoung looked tired as he walked inside and I was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
“Hi!” I called out loudly and he looked up, taken aback by my presence there.
“Uh, hi.” He greeted back, giving me a questioning look but I just giggled.
“I cooked dinner!” I tried to diffuse the awkwardness and Doyoung started grinning.
“Thank God, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m starving!” He said as he pushed his shoes off.
“It’s important to have lunch.” I said as I walked to the fridge, taking out the food I had prepared.
“Yeah, but according to Sana, so is raiding the Sky-Blue headquarters.” Doyoung said defeated and my eyebrows furrowed. Where have I heard that name before?
“Why? What’s there?” I asked curiously as Doyoung took off towards his room.
“The mafia Sana is sniffing around.” And with that he went inside his room to change and come to have dinner. But the report from Mark said that Wonwoo frequents that place often. Why? Does he maybe know there’s a mafia inside there? Or is he oblivious to it?
And you thought he was boring? Aren’t things getting more and more interesting?
“How was your day?” I slammed the plates on the table and it made Doyoung wince. I gave him an apologetic grin as I placed two forks and some napkins too next to the plates.
“Uneventful,” I said with a sigh, going to the living room to grab my stuff, “I’ll be right back, I’ll just put these in my room.”
Doyoung hummed as he took a seat at the table, placing food on his plate. I hurried to my room, clutching the file tightly to make sure it wouldn’t open and free its contents onto the floor as I carried the laptop in my other hand. I entered my room and went towards my desk, placing my laptop on top of it. The file I placed on a shelf of my bookcase and as I was about to leave I noticed how the temperature was a bit colder than in the other rooms. Looking around, I noticed my window was slightly open and with a sigh, I went and closed it and locked it. It wasn’t unlike me to forget to close it back if I happened to open it up. And just as I turned around to leave the room for good, my eyes stopped on my nightstand. Five white lilies were placed in a tall glass with water. I remained rooted to the spot, warmness spreading in my chest. It’s been long since I got flowers from someone. How did Doyoung get these in here without me noticing the flowers when he got inside the house? I chuckled and shook my head as I went to have dinner, stomach churning loudly. It felt nice to get flowers. Even if they were from my brother.
           I should have taken Mark’s offer and went on that vacation he proposed, but my mind wouldn’t let me do that. I had a new mission, and it was following Wonwoo around. For a whole week I was vigilant enough that he didn’t notice me and now I knew his habits. In the mornings, he’d take that beautiful girl to the bookstore and then go buy himself coffee. Sometimes he’d go back to that park and read for a few hours, other times he’d leave and go to the gym. He would spend a lot of time at the Sky-Blue headquarters and drive his boss to less or more sketchy places. His boss was Kim Mingyu, it crossed my mind to research him too and follow him around for a day or two, but he was giving me bad vibes. When I trailed after Wonwoo’s car when he was with Mingyu, I felt like the two knew I was there. Sometimes, they’d drive around in the same neighborhood twice and I would have to take different turns in order to make it seem like I wasn’t following them…but it almost always led me to lose them. After Wonwoo was done with his work, he’d go to the national library and spend hours there, so much, that I was starting to worry that he’d fall ill from not eating and drinking enough. In fact, he barely ate anything all day, maybe he did it somehow when I wasn’t watching, otherwise I can’t explain how he remained energetic and standing for the whole day. On the third day of watching him, I decided to enter the library myself and try and find a book that I would enjoy. He switched from the book he was reading to a different one, in fact, every day he read something different. It was confusing, and I was dying to ask him why…but the right moment hadn’t come for it yet. One day, I got so immersed in my own book that I totally forgot about keeping my eyes on Wonwoo too and when I looked up from my book, Wonwoo was gone from his usual spot. I looked around a little too frantically, my knees bouncing fast. I waited for two more minutes before I sprung up onto my feet and took off towards the section I took the book I was reading from. I heard hushed laughter coming from nearby but I was busy trying push the book back in its place, so busy, that I totally missed the deep tone of the laughter. When I finally had the book in its original place, I turned and took off pretty much running, which led me into stumbling forward as my shoes got caught in the carpet. I gasped and ran into the bookshelves in front of me, barely catching myself from falling.
“Are you alright?” A feminine voice asked, and as I turned to answer them, my heart stopped beating. The woman was standing next to Wonwoo and they were both looking at me confused and concerned. I gulped and suddenly my throat was dry as my eyes jumped from the woman to Wonwoo and then back at the woman and then again to Wonwoo. I was waiting for him to point at me and yell that I’m a psycho stalker, but he just looked confused and I quietly sighed.
“Yeah, sorry!” I said awkwardly and bowed my head quickly before turning around and running away embarrassed. It was good that Wonwoo had no recollection of my face, it means that he didn’t pay much attention to me at the Coffee Shop and he also didn’t know that I was pretty much stalking him. As much as stalking Wonwoo made my week better and definitely uplifted my mood, the highlight of my week were the daily white lilies I was finding in my room each evening. I didn’t know how Doyoung was doing it, I could swear I saw him enter empty handed each evening, but maybe he was turning into a magician and was trying his tricks out on me. I didn’t say anything to him, wanting to act oblivious to his nice act if he wouldn’t say something first. But I had my concerns regarding Wonwoo and the relationship between him and the beautiful girl from the bookstore. She worked there and seeing them each morning together gave me the impression that they were on really good terms…possibly even dating, even though I’ve only seen them hugging. So, for that, to check it myself, I had a plan. I bought a copy of the book I saw Wonwoo reading in the park and one morning, on a Tuesday when I knew Wonwoo wouldn’t be the one giving a lift to the beautiful girl, I headed inside the bookstore.
The bell chimed loudly and it was warm inside. The radio was playing through the speakers at a low volume and the girl I was here for was at the front desk. My eyes fell on her and I noticed how she hasn’t had curly hair ever since that day I saw her in the Coffee Shop. She was concentrated on her phone, smiling as she typed quickly. I cleared my throat and walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. It took her a second to realize that someone was standing there, looking at her.
“Oh, hi!” She had a powerful voice; it didn’t take one long to realize she was a confident person. I smiled at her kindly and tapped my fingers against the counter.
“Hi…” I looked around quickly, feigning nervousness, “I’m sorry to bother you here…”
Then I looked at her name tag and read her name, “Hyemi, pretty name! Anyways…uhm, this book…”
I grabbed it out of my bag and placed it on top of the counter, “Wonwoo borrowed it to me and well…I’ve had it for too long and I want to return it.”
“Oh, you know Wonwoo?” Hyemi’s eyebrows rose as she took the book from me and looked at it, “I’ve seen this one laying around in his house.”
Oh, so she knows where Wonwoo lives. And she was there too. You knew this was coming, Y/N, but are you ready to face the consequences? What if you have to give up both? You can always get rid of one of them…you know it’s not hard…
“I’ve met him at the library, sometimes we talk,” I said with a shrug and took the book back from Hyemi, “he recommended it to me.”
I was hoping she didn’t see the tightness of my jaw as I tried to ignore the evil voices. They were urging me to grab the girl by the hair and drag her away. I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t like that anymore. And nothing was sure yet. They can be friends; friends hang out together in their apartments all the time. I can’t jump to conclusions just yet. And I’ve never seen Wonwoo spend time with her except for when he drops Hyemi off in the mornings.
“He really likes doing that!” Hyemi said with a roll of her eyes and I chuckled, putting the book away.
“He does, but it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She hummed and we looked behind her when there was a click. Another breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the room and I couldn’t help but gape at her. Her lips were red and her long brown hair was in a low ponytail, eyeliner on her eyelids. She looked amazing, I cleared my throat and quickly read her name tag. Irene.
“Everything alright?” She asked with authority in her voice and I found myself nodding very quickly, but Hyemi just chuckled.
“Yes, I was just talking to—” Then both women looked at me and I was lost for a second, feeling flustered. My fingers tapped against the counter quickly and I realized they were waiting for me to tell them my name.
“Y/N!” I exclaimed and my cheeks became warm, “Uhm, my name is Y/N.”
“Wonwoo borrowed Y/N a book and she wants to return it.” Hyemi said with a smile and Irene hummed, looking me over quickly. Then she offered me a small smile and her stern expression melted away. It eased my nerves a little and I offered her a similar smile.
“Right, so…could you give me his address?” I asked, very innocently, as I looked Hyemi in the eyes. She knows where Wonwoo lives, I’m a little bothered by that but at least now I’ll find out his address too. But her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me apologetically.
“Sorry, I don’t think I should just tell you that…without Wonwoo’s consent at least—”
“Oh, right!” I exclaimed and looked down embarrassed, “That was really…a dumb request, don’t worry! I totally get it!”
“Not to be mean—”
“No! It’s fine, you’re right!” I waved my hands in the air and Irene chuckled as she watched the exchange between us. I took a step back and played with my fingers as I tried to keep on an embarrassed expression.
“I’ll give it back to him when I meet him at the library.”
“Are you sure? You could give it to me and I’ll—”
“I’m sure.” I interrupted Hyemi and walked backwards towards the door, “Have a nice day, ladies!”
“You too!” Irene called out as Hyemi’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.
“Bye.” She muttered as I hurried out the door, heart beating fast. What if she realized I was lying? Now all I could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Wonwoo and throw me off from the progress I’ve been making.
And that day when I arrived home, I found more white lilies sitting on the little table that we had on the front porch. I took them and inhaled their scent, a smile appearing on my lips. And as a breeze passed by, I felt eyes on me. So, I straightened up and looked around, but the fence was high enough that no one would see inside, so I shook the feeling off and unlocked the front door, walking inside the house and headed to the kitchen to take a vase for the new lilies.
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           A few days passed since I’ve been to the bookstore and I had realized that I needed a different approach. Yesterday, Hyemi and Wonwoo didn’t show up to the bookstore and as I went on with my day, I found Wonwoo nowhere he’d usually be at. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so, I figured they must have taken a day off. But that thought didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided that it was time I took serious actions. A more straightforward approach. One that would set off the start of something between Wonwoo and I.
I woke up a little earlier than I usually would to be able to get ready. We had only one bathroom, and for once, I put a little effort into my appearance. I usually didn’t doll myself up, but today I wanted to look pretty. So, I put on minimal makeup and decided to be a bit bold and use red lipstick too. I pulled my hair out of my face and clipped the front strands back and then I cooked breakfast for Doyoung and I, wanting to surprise him. He was always the one that got up early and made sure we ate well, but I felt like returning this little favor to him since he’s been bringing me white lilies for almost two weeks now. I even turned his morning alarm off, wanting to give him a little extra time to sleep, which was always welcomed as he worked late and had to wake up really early. After breakfast was ready, I went back to my room to get dressed and spent at least ten minutes thinking of an outfit. In the end, I settled on high waist mom jeans and a long-sleeved colorful crop top as yesterday it was rather warm. Then, I grabbed my bag and went to Doyoung’s room to wake him up. He was in a good mood once I told him I cooked breakfast and that I let him sleep in, his laughter echoed in the house as he told me a funny story that happened at work. Breakfast was pleasant and tasty and once we were done, I didn’t wait for Doyoung, I headed out. I told him that I found a new path in the forest that lead to a beautiful clearing with a spring and that I wanted to take pictures while the sun wasn’t high up in the sky, which unfortunately was a lie. I did find a place like that, but it was last month and I had already taken plenty of pictures of it. But Doyoung didn’t have to know that I was back to stalking again, especially not today, when I was so excited about my plan. Before going to the library, I grabbed a cup of coffee, Americano this time as I didn’t have in mind drinking it and it would’ve been a waste to buy Caramel Macchiato. By the time I got to the library it was nearing noon and I was hopeful that wherever Wonwoo went, he’d be back by today, otherwise, I did all of this for nothing. When I entered, the librarian gave me a glance and her eyebrows furrowed as they fell on my coffee, but I hid it behind my back and offered her a warm smile. She shook her head but didn’t say anything and I bowed my head, hurrying further inside. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but it was still warm, at least it wouldn’t burn him. I cleared my throat and took in a deep breath, about to round the corner and head to the reading area. My heart was pounding quickly in my chest and I feared that others would be able to hear it in the calming silence of the library. But as I rounded the corner, my mind went blank.
There he is.
I could feel excitement enter my whole body and my fingers started tapping quickly against the cup of coffee I was holding, I had to force myself to stay as still as I could and not take off towards Wonwoo. He was sitting at his usual spot, in the middle of the area and at the edge of the table. He had a book on the table in front of him, his glasses were close to falling off and his black hair was a bit messy. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a silver necklace hung around his neck. My eyes got glued to his muscly arms as he flipped the page and I gulped, trying to focus on my plan once again.
He is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he, Y/N? No surprise you can’t handle the thought of someone else having him.
I shook my head a little and then started walking. My heels clicked against the wooden floor, but it was a dull sound, and thankfully Wonwoo didn’t look up. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes ran over the words in the book, and he sighed loudly as I got closer and closer. I glanced around, but there weren’t many people, and those who were, they were too busy studying or reading. Knowing that no one was looking my way, I knew what I was about to do wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone. I was two tables away from Wonwoo, and as I was watching him so closely, I noticed the sudden tensity of his muscles. How his palms clenched into fists and it almost looked like he was reading the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t be actually able to tell that. My plan was to accidentally run into the corner of the table he was sitting at and spill the coffee on him. Like that, I had an excuse to talk to him and hopefully he’d even agree to me buying him a new shirt. I wasn’t able to decipher his personality as he was mostly by himself, but I prayed to every God out there that he’d comply to my wishes. And just as my eyes fixated on the corner of the table, to make sure that the front of my shoe would get stuck in it, Wonwoo abruptly stood up. And I jumped and panicked. The sound his chair made was loud and I lost all train of thought as his eyes fell on me and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the edge of the carpet. And suddenly, I was falling forward, eyes widened in horror. Wonwoo didn’t even blink, he just stood there, looking almost taken aback. And then our bodies collided into each other, and I felt the warm coffee spill not just on his chest, but on my own too. I gasped loudly, Wonwoo remained silent and suddenly I felt the eyes of the people who were around us, on us. Wonwoo was tense as he quickly gripped my forearms to steady me, the empty cup of coffee fell against the ground and I felt like it made the loudest sound I have ever heard. But in reality, it barely even made a thudding sound. My eyes remained wide, heart beating fast as I remained rooted in Wonwoo’s arms.
He smells so good. And his body is so firm. Do you hear how loud his breathing is, Y/N?
The evil voice made me shiver and I sprung out of Wonwoo’s hold, looking at him wide eyed. He looked frozen for a second, but then he lowered his arms, and gulped, glancing down at his damp t-shirt.
“Oh my God,” I muttered, looking down at my own damp shirt, this didn’t go as planned, he was the only one supposed to get coffee spilled on, “I am so sorry!”
My voice was quiet as I tried not to disturb the other people in there and Wonwoo finally looked at me. His sharp eyes offered no warmness and suddenly I felt small under his intense gaze. I felt embarrassed and as if I was caught in the act, but it’s him who stood up. This was supposed to happen differently.
“At least it wasn’t burning hot.” Wonwoo’s deep voice reached my ears and I did everything I could to memorize the deep vibration of it.
“Yeah, I got it a while ago…” I mumbled and looked down embarrassed, unable to maintain his intense eye contact.
“Accidents happen,” I could see him shrug as he ran his hands down his abdomen, “And it’s my fault, I was the one who stood up so abruptly—”
“Oh, no—” I looked up and shook my hands quickly, “I shouldn’t have walked so close to the table, it’s really my fault—”
“Don’t worry about it,” His lips pulled into a small smirk and I knew I was going to blush, “I’m not mad at you.”
My cheeks were hot and I felt at a loss of words all of a sudden, almost forgetting why I even planned on doing this.
“I feel guilty though—” I managed to get out, trying to avoid looking at his lips, “Let me make up for it!”
Someone towards the back of the reading area cleared their throat and I realized I was starting to speak too loudly; my leg was tapping against the wooden floor anxiously. I wanted to insist, but I didn’t know what to say next. I needed Wonwoo to co-operate, but I wasn’t sure he would just yet. His expression didn’t give away anything and I bit my lower lip nervously.
“How can you make up for it?” His eyebrows rose and my heart jumped in my chest.
“Uhm, I—I can just, uh—buy you a new shirt?” I hated myself for stuttering, but this was more nerve wrecking than I remembered it being. Has it been really that long since I’ve done this?
“I have plenty of shirts…” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me look back at him and I tried to stay calm. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but he looked like he was teasing me. I smiled softly and played with my fingers, glancing away from him before looking back.
“The mall is literally across the road…and…if you let me buy you this shirt, you’ll never forget that a stranger spilled their coffee on you on a very nice Wednesday…” Suddenly, all tension left my body when a wide smile appeared on Wonwoo’s lips. For the first time, I noticed how his nose scrunched up when he smiled, and how soft he seemed like this. When Wonwoo smiled, he wasn’t intimidating anymore, it was as if I was looking at a different person. My heart started beating quickly again and I felt at peace as I gaped at him, hopeful that he didn’t find it creepy. If only he knew…
“You might need a new shirt as well…” Wonwoo said once he was done laughing and I looked down at my shirt, eyebrows furrowing. Well yeah…that wasn’t part of the plan.
“If you insist.” I said with a shrug and Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head.
“I’ll put this book back and then we can go.” Wonwoo said as he closed the book he was reading and picked it up from the table. He gave me a glance before he turned and walked towards the tall bookshelves, disappearing between them. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my victorious smirk in case Wonwoo returned. I remembered the abandoned cup and turned around to pick it up, chuckling to myself. My plan didn’t work, but worked at the same time. It played out a little different than what I had in mind, but in the end, I still got what I wanted.
“Let’s go?” I turned my head and Wonwoo was by my side, eyebrows raised as his eyes fell on the empty cup. I nodded my head and we took off towards the mall from across the road, about to buy some new shirts.
Once we got to the mall I made Wonwoo choose a shop he likes and I’d buy him a t-shirt from there, only if he likes it, of course. In the end, he lead us to the cheapest shop and said that I should choose something for myself as well and he’ll buy it, because it was his fault too that the coffee was spilled as he got in my way. When he pointed towards the shop and said that he wanted to choose from that one, I gave him a look.
“Are you sure?” I asked as I followed after him, “Because I might look poor, but I’m not. So, if you want to wear something fancy, I totally can get it for you—”
“I don’t need anything fancy.” Wonwoo interrupted with a chuckle and I shrugged, walking inside the shop.
“Well, good for you then.” I muttered, looking around. To the left was the men section and to the right the women section, I pointed towards the men section, “Let’s go.”
Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and noticed how warm his skin was against mine. I didn’t realize it was inappropriate to hold someone you just met, let alone drag him after you. But I was too happy that my plan actually worked out and that he didn’t recognize me at all. Even though he’s seen me twice before.
What if you aren’t remarkable enough? You could get Hyemi instead of Wonwoo, since he doesn’t even remember your face.
I shook my head and stopped in front of racks of various colored t-shirt and simple shirts, “Well, choose one!”
Wonwoo came to stand next to me and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit as he started moving the racks with his left hand. My right leg was tapping against the ground as I looked at his profile. His jaw was sharp and lips jutting out as he tried to choose one. Suddenly, I became aware of the hold I had on his wrist still and released it, clearing my throat awkwardly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked ahead when Wonwoo glanced at me. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but from the corner of my eyes I could see him smirking. It made my leg tap faster against the floor and I wished that something would happen that would save me from the embarrassment I was currently feeling.
“This one will do.” He suddenly spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. He was holding an almost identic t-shirt to the one he was wearing, except this one had longer sleeves. My eyes lingered on it before I gave him an affirming nod, and Wonwoo smiled.
“Your turn.” This time, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the women section. My heart suddenly picked up its pace and my free hand turned into a fist as I tried to contain my wide grin once again. His grip felt like it was on fire and burned away on my skin, but I was enjoying it, it was a nice feeling. He released me though the second we got to the shirts and I didn’t even look, just picked up a brown see through shirt.
“This one!” I exclaimed and grinned at Wonwoo, holding up the shirt. His eyes fell on it and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Are you sure?” He asked and I could almost hear a certain discomfort in his tone, but I thought I was just making things up. So, I just nodded my head with a wide smile and Wonwoo sighed, pointing towards the changing rooms.
“Let’s change then.”
“Shouldn’t we pay first?” I asked surprised as Wonwoo took off.
“No, take the tag off, we can still pay.” My eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo’s words but I didn’t say anything as I went inside a cabin and quickly changed into the shirt I picked. Once I was dressed, I gulped. Well, I certainly should have looked first at what I was picking out, you could see my black bra through the material. And it was a bit too thin for this weather, but if we stayed inside the mall for longer I wouldn’t be bothered. And my car was around the corner, hopefully I wouldn’t catch a cold. I pulled the curtain back and my eyes fell on Wonwoo who was leaning against the wall casually. He was wearing black jeans and black combat boots. The t-shirt he picked was tight around his chest and I couldn’t look away. It was a mouthwatering sight and I gulped, snapping out of it. But the silence stretched on for longer as Wonwoo continued looking at me with an unreadable expression, jaw just a little tight. He kept his eyes on my face, but I didn’t miss the split second they lowered towards my see-through shirt. It made me fidget as I cleared my throat.
“Let’s—let’s pay!” I quickly hurried past Wonwoo, feeling embarrassed for the nth time today. I could hear a deep chuckle behind me, but I ignored it and approached the front desk.
“Hi, we bought these two shirts we are wearing, the tags are here—” I started speaking as I placed the tags on the counter.
“I’m sorry Miss, that’s against the rules.” The cashier very rudely interrupted and gave me a glare.
“Uhm…we still intend to pay though…”
“It’s still against the rules to do that, I have to call security—”
“Maybe you should just scan the tags and proceed on with your life, Kelly.” Wonwoo’s deep voice boomed next to me and I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at the cashier, whose name was Kelly. She seemed to shrink a little under Wonwoo’s gaze and she hesitated for a second, but then scanned in the tags.
“We are paying separately.” Wonwoo proceeded to say when he saw that she put the shirts on the same bill and Kelly apologized quickly. I looked at Wonwoo, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in his attitude. He looked stern and demanding, I probably would’ve done instantly what he told me, if he looked at me like that. This is how I imagined Wonwoo’s personality to be like, yet it didn’t sit well with me. Something felt off about his attitude, this wasn’t the first time he was being like this. And it was very obvious that he knew what effect it would have on the one targeted.
“Here.” The girl muttered once she handed Wonwoo the change back and then it was my turn to pay, which went by quickly as both of us were trying to move quickly under Wonwoo’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Uh, bye!” I called out as Wonwoo and I walked out with a bag each and our stained shirts inside them. I stopped walking once we were out of the shop and Wonwoo stopped too, looking back at me confused.
“Something wrong?” He asked confused and I shook my head.
“Not at all…I’m just glad we are even now…” I shrugged and he nodded with a hum, looking around. I tried to shrug off the sudden uncertainty I was feeling. Wonwoo didn’t seem as safe anymore as I had imagined him to be.
“Do you want to grab some lunch?” My heart jumped into my throat instantly and my mind went blank. How do I answer that question? That was definitely not what I had planned, but it was turning even better. But I couldn’t, I felt like it would be too much. Yes, I wanted to get to know him, but I already felt like an intruder. This happened only because of me, I didn’t want Wonwoo to feel like he had to do this. And I wanted to sort out my thought first and analyze our interaction.
“I would love to, but I have to help out my brother.” I lied through my teeth, with a smile on my face.
“Ah…” He nodded and neared me, I felt small under his strong gaze. It looked like he was looking right into my soul, reading my mind. It gave me the impression that he knew I was lying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for spilling the coffee on me, I told you, accidents happen.”
“I know!” I laughed nervously, my leg tapping against the ground once again, “I feel like I should wash that t-shirt…to actually stop feeling guilty…”
And that was the second stage of my plan. Get him to give me his t-shirt so that I can wash it, that way I get his phone number and I have an excuse to meet up with him again. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose at my words and he chuckled, reaching inside his bag for without saying anything.
“Here.” He said and handed me his stained t-shirt.
“Really?” I asked gaping and he chuckled as I took it from him, “I thought you’d be against it…”
“I’m not,” He said with a casual shrug and then fished his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll need your number in order to get back my t-shirt…unless you’re a t-shirt thief.”
I started laughing as I took his unlocked phone and typed in my phone number, trying to hide the tremble of my fingers, “Shhh, no one knows.”
I winked as I handed him back his phone with my number saved and Wonwoo chuckled, ringing me. That way I had his number too, which I would save the second I got to my car. And then, he took another step and I was taken aback by the closeness between us.
“Tell me…” He muttered, his voice deep and I gulped nervously, “Have we met before?”
He knows, Y/N.
I froze up for a second, looking at him with my jaw having fallen open, “What? I—I don’t think—where—You know, maybe at the library—No! We have never met before!”
I knew I fucked up with my stuttering and the way Wonwoo suddenly started smirking like he was proud of himself for making me react like that. Maybe he really does know and the voices aren’t wrong.
“You go to the library often?”
“Lately, yeah.” I cleared my throat and stepped back, acting like I was looking at the shop behind Wonwoo.
“I see.” He nodded and then stepped back too, holding his hand out, “We haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Wonwoo.”
My eyebrows rose as I realized we really didn’t, even though I already knew his name. Thank God it didn’t slip from my lips, that would’ve been really bad.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” I smiled at him widely and shook his head excited, trying to ignore how hot his hand was once again. His grip was firm and I decided to ignore how our hands touched for a little bit longer than they were supposed to.
“Nice to meet you too.” Wonwoo chuckled and we let go of each other’s hands finally.
“I have to go now…” I pointed behind me and Wonwoo gave me a nod and a small wave, “Bye!”
“See you soon, Y/N.” I shivered at how low his tone got and quickly hurried away, feeling embarrassed, excited, nervous and confused by the vibes he was giving me. Why is it that I feel like there’s something going on with him?
           I was eager to get home after the day I had, ready to get lost in my thoughts and analyze every little detail about the exchange between Wonwoo and I. I even considered texting him, but I didn’t want to come off as creepy, or give him the wrong impression. If I wanted things to work out, I had to be smooth and careful about everything I said and did. As I parked my car in its usual place, I noticed how the lights were on inside the house and realized Doyoung was already home. Doyoung was home early! I quickly got out of the car and locked it, almost running to get inside the house faster. It was rare that Doyoung was home before nightfall and I missed spending time with him and going out with him. We haven’t gone on a run together in a long time and I was hoping that Doyoung was up to it. I knocked on the front door first to let Doyoung know that it was me, and then pushed the door open and walked inside.
“Doyoung!” I shrieked, seeing that he wasn’t in the living room nor kitchen, “Hi!”
Doyoung didn’t answer right away and as I closed the door behind me and locked it, I heard the water running in the bathroom. Doyoung was washing up, so I walked to my room and changed out of my clothes and wore something comfortable. I quickly removed my makeup and sighed as I pulled my hair in a low bun, feeling at ease once again. I opened my window to let in some fresh air and as I was about to walk away, I noticed the white lilies on the windowsill. I chuckled at Doyoung’s creativeness and picked them up, taking them inside with me. It was smart of him, to be honest. He parked his car behind the backyard, where the wall of my bedroom was too. So, in order to get to the front of the house he’d have to pass by my windows and that would explain how he was able to sneak in the flowers inside my room without me seeing them. But as I held the lilies, I realized that there were ten pieces this time and I bit my lower lip as a wide smile spread onto my lips. I glanced at the bag that contained the shirts that got coffee spilled on them and I walked up to it, grabbing Wonwoo’s t-shirt. I took it in my hands and, having placed the lilies on my bed, and felt the soft fabric of the black t-shirt. It was bigger than my own torso as I held it against my frame and chuckled as I walked towards my mirror. So that’s what I would look like wearing Wonwoo’s shirts.
You look lovely, Y/N, we bet Wonwoo can’t wait to see you like this. If you proceed carefully, he’ll be yours in a blink of an eye.
I chuckled, letting the image the voices created linger in my mind. I brought the t-shirt up against my nose and reveled in Wonwoo’s cologne. It was masculine and it carried a musky scent and something that I have only felt on Doyoung, the smell of gunpowder. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the t-shirt, lowering it back inside the bag. Why would Wonwoo’s t-shirt smell like gunpowder? Does he go to the shooting ranges? Is it a hobby of his? No, if it was, I would’ve known already. But before I could dwell on it longer, the bathroom door closed and I jumped, taking the white lilies as I left my room.
“Y/N, are you home—”
“Doyoung!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around my brother, giving him a back hug. Doyoung chuckled and tapped my arms, softly peeling them off himself.
“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early!” I said as I walked around him, wandering if we had any free vases for the lilies.
“I wasn’t either…” Doyoung muttered and I heard him sigh as I opened some cabinets until I found a blue vase. I smiled in victory and filled it with water, placing the lilies inside before putting the vase in the middle of the dining table. Doyoung was lounging on the couch with a frown on his face and as I looked at him, about to rant about my day, I realized something was wrong. He looked drained; his eyes even looked red.
“Doyoung…” I muttered with a frown and approached him slowly, arms hugging around my torso, “Are you okay?”
He looked up at me and tried to put on a smile, “Yeah! I’m fine—”
But his voice broke a little and I quickly sat next to him, throwing my arms around him as I pulled him into a tight hug.
“Hey, talk to me.” I whispered as I rubbed his back reassuringly. His arms went around me and he sighed loudly, sniffing.
“Well…I was sent home early because the higher ups are in meetings…” He sighed again and I just hummed as I waited patiently for him to continue.
“Sana was found dead this morning—” His voice broke again and I froze. Doyoung’s boss was dead? Who could have done such thing? And why?
“Oh, Doyoung, I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tightening my hold around him. He nodded his head and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. We remained silent as I tried offering comfort to my brother, knowing how much Sana’s death affected him. Not many liked Sana, sometimes even Doyoung hated her, but they spent a lot of time together. And inevitably they bonded, she still meant something to him.
“She was shot in the head once, it killed her instantly—” I wanted to tell him to stop thinking about it, to not tell me anything about her death, but he had to get it off his chest. And I was there to listen, I would always be there for Doyoung, no matter what he needed.
“There were signs of other altercations before her death…” Then he stopped for a second and scoffed, “She attacked a girl, Y/N, a simple, innocent, girl. She just—broke inside her apartment, trashed it and—and tried killing her? I don’t understand—”
“People do all sorts of things,” I interrupted Doyoung’s rambling, “You can never truly know what a person is capable of until it’s done.”
Doyoung sniffed again and then gently pulled back, rubbing his eyes. I let my hands rest in my lap as I watched my brother trying to pull himself together.
“She did it because of a guy—I don’t understand. She was obsessed with this—Kim Mingyu and she attacked Hyemi for being with him, I—” Doyoung shrugged and fell back against the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched my brother. Kim Mingyu? It’s the guy Wonwoo works for. Wait…does Wonwoo know anything about this? Why was he missing yesterday? Hyemi…it can’t be the girl from the bookstore, right?
“Is Hyemi alright?” I found myself asking quietly and Doyoung hummed.
“Her friends found her just in time, before she could get hurt seriously. But Sana…”
“She got what she deserved.” I couldn’t hold my words back and Doyoung’s head snapped in my direction, “She tried to kill Hyemi, Doyoung. And she was a cop. Attacked a simple civilian. I understand your pain and struggle but—”
“I know,” Doyoung offered me a reassuring smile and patted my hand, “but it’s very stressful. They want me to replace Sana.”
My eyes widened as I sat up straighter, “Wait…you’ll become head of police then…?”
Doyoung’s lips formed a thin line and he sighed, looking away from me, “I guess Kim Mingyu really does achieve whatever he wants…”
“Kim Mingyu?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Doyoung once again confused hearing his name, “What does he have to do with this?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about that.” Doyoung quickly said and ran his fingers through his damp hair, “I just wanted to be the first one to tell you all of this, and not Mark.”
Before I could press more about who Kim Mingyu was, I froze and looked at Doyoung surprised, “Mark?”
“Yeah,” Doyoung gave me a small glare and it seemed like he was quick to repress the feelings towards Sana’s death, “I know about what you do with Mark.”
“I don’t do anything,” I shrugged defensively, “I don’t even know who that is!”
Doyoung scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Please, you think people didn’t notice Mark’s sudden success this year? Everyone knew he was close to getting fired, until he suddenly turned into this super detective he never was—”
“And how is that my fault?!” I exclaimed, unable to keep it inside anymore. My legs were bouncing quickly and I gave Doyoung a glare, “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something else besides running my blog and taking pictures of nature, alright? This is fun and exciting—”
“And fucking dangerous, Y/N!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up as his eyebrows furrowed, “Do you have any idea who you even follow around? Gang leaders, mafia heads, powerful business men! These people are shady! If you were ever caught, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything—”
“I know!” I exclaimed and stood up too, feeling desperate for Doyoung to understand me, “But this helped! It really did, Mark offered me an escape, Doyoung. An escape from falling back into my old habits and stalking people. Ever since I started doing this, I—I had no tendencies to stalk others—” Besides the sudden infatuation I had with Wonwoo, but it would pass. I hoped that it would. I wanted Doyoung to be proud of me.
“You just need a good therapist, Y/N—” Doyoung’s words were triggering as my parents would say this often to me and I couldn’t control myself, I shoved him back. He stumbled a bit, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Until he realized what he said, and he turned pale.
“Thanks a lot, big brother.” I snapped and turned around, storming towards my room, “You know therapists did shit and never helped me! The medication only made feel worse after a while!”
“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry—” Doyoung tried to apologize as he followed after me.
“Save it, okay?!” I entered my room and blocked Doyoung from coming inside, “I—I know I’m a burden to you. I hate being a burden. But I can’t live on my own, and I hate that. I want to offer you a normal life, but instead, I’m just hanging on your neck—and I don’t need you to remind me that!”
“That’s not true!” Doyoung looked offended by my words as his eyebrows furrowed, “You were never a burden to me. I love you and I want you with me, Y/N—”
I raised my palm to stop him from talking, “Stop, I don’t care. Thankfully, helping Mark out pays well and I’m close to having enough money to move out. Give me three more months, and I’ll be gone.”
“What?!” Doyoung’s face fell and he went to grab me, but I slammed the door shut quickly, “I don’t want you to leave! We moved in here together because we both wanted to! You can’t just leave—”
“Watch me!” I screamed and I heard Doyoung sigh loudly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. This wasn’t the time to act childish nor to drop something like that on him, not when his boss just died and he was in grief. But I couldn’t help it, he pissed me off. He would never understand what I had to go through daily and therefore he had no rights to try and tell me what to do. What Mark offered me was a life saver and Doyoung would never understand how much it helped, right up until I met Wonwoo.
“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Doyoung said loudly and knocked on my door, but I quickly locked it. I knew he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I needed time to get over his words. By tomorrow morning I would be fine, but I needed to be left alone tonight.
“Whatever!” I called out and rolled my eyes, “Don’t bring me any white lilies anymore!”
I waited for an answer but Doyoung remained silent and I really wanted to see his expression, was he mad that I told him that?
“What?” My eyebrows furrowed at his confused tone, “You’re the one who buys them daily—”
The rest of his words got swallowed by my loudness. My heart started thumping wildly as I unlocked the bedroom’s door in a hurry and threw it open, “What?!”
Doyoung’s eyebrows were furrowed too as we looked at each other confused, “You…aren’t the one buying the lilies?”
“And it’s not you who’s been giving them to me?” Doyoung and I seemed to realize what this meant at the same time and as I scampered to shut the window of my room closed and lock it, Doyoung hurried to take on some shoes as he turned on the lights outside around the house. He threw on a jacket and hurried outside as I remained shivering in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered my skin as I remained staring at the flowers on my nightstand that I got yesterday. Who was giving me these flowers then? And why was this person breaking inside our house?
Aw, does our little Y/N have a secret admirer? Who could it be?
“No!” I shook my head and hurriedly shut all blinds in my room and then went around the house, shutting each one of them. Doyoung came inside looking distressed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I’ll talk to the boys, and they’ll start patrolling around the neighborhood. Tomorrow a search team will come and search the house for any foreign DNA, alright?” Doyoung spoke with a serious tone as he locked the front door and turned to look at me, “Nothing will happen, alright?”
“They have been breaking in for two weeks, Doyoung—” I bit my lower lip and started tapping my leg against the floor anxiously, “Do they want something from me?”
Doyoung walked up to me and held onto my shoulders, “We’ll catch them before they can do anything, yes?”
I sighed and nodded my head, looking around the house to see the white lilies everywhere. They made me feel sick to my stomach, so I walked past Doyoung to take the trash bin and started throwing all of them inside it, cursing under my breath. I should have known that it wasn’t Doyoung. I’m so stupid!
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           Sleeping was hard last night and after struggling for a while, I somehow fell asleep towards the morning hours. I didn’t have the energy to go and watch Wonwoo today, I was too paranoid to even wear headphones on my run. I kept glancing behind me, until I noticed the police car parked around the curb and two of Doyoung’s colleagues chatting as they had coffee in their hands. I quickly greeted them before running past them, deciding to change my running route out of fear that if someone indeed was watching would already know I would head that way and do something to me. Doyoung kept messaging me every half an hour and I got irritated so I told him to just watch the app where it showed him my location, and at least that made him stop. I was halfway down the path when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket, tickling my butt cheek. I stopped running and unzipped the pocket, taking my phone in my hand. My lungs were screaming for air and I had sweat a lot as I pushed myself in order to try and forget the whole stalker deal. But when my eyes fell on the caller ID, I felt excited.
“I hope you went on that vacation and enjoyed yourself,” Came Mark’s voice through the phone and I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath, “Because I’ve got a new job for you.”
I hummed and breathed loudly, waiting for Mark to continue.
“Am I…interrupting something?” His voice was hesitant and it made me laugh.
“Yeah, my run.” Mark chuckled and I turned around, walking back towards the house, “Tell me everything.”
“It’s a one-day job, but it’s very important. The names are Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. I’ll send you the details in a message on your other number, delete it once you had it memorized.”
“What exactly will I have to look out for?” I wondered as I passed by the police car again, the officers were gone this time.
“Those two are planning a heist, just take pictures of each jewelry place they go inside and send them to me straight when you think it’s clear.” I pursed my lips and thought a little.
“Fine, but don’t say a word to Doyoung. He knows about us and he’s very mad.”
“I know,” Mark cleared his throat, sounding awkward, “He very much wants to fire me right now. Maybe you heard, but Sana is dead, so he’s the big boss now…”
“I know,” I muttered and walked down the street, looking around before crossing onto the other side, “Doyoung told me. Seems like she was nuts or something…”
“She had it coming,” Mark scoffed and it peaked my interest, “Anyone who works against or turns on Kim Mingyu ends up being dead.”
My eyebrows furrowed and I was about to ask who this man was, but Mark gasped, “Shit, your brother is coming—keep your eyes on your phone!”
He hung up and I sighed as I locked my phone, wondering if I would find anything about Kim Mingyu on the internet. Since Wonwoo worked for him, I’ve seen him a few times, his business seemed pretty serious. Lost in thought, I didn��t notice the guy approaching me and gasped when their shoulder collided with mine. I hissed and stopped, turning around to shout at them, but the person didn’t even acknowledge me.
“Asshole!” I shouted after them, noticing their hunched form. The person seemed tall and looked like he was trying to hide his actual height. I turned to walk when the scent hit me. Musk and gunpowder. I quickly turned around, but the man in the black clothes was already gone.
Was that your secret admirer?
I shivered and quickly ran the rest of the way home, only being around the corner. I quickly unlocked the gate and as I walked inside, my eyes fell on the white lilies that I threw in the dumpster this morning. I felt bad for them because they were very beautiful, but I didn’t want them inside the house anymore.
After showering and getting ready, I checked out Mark’s message and memorized the information quickly, deleting the message. I grabbed my laptop and put it inside my bag together with my camera as I pulled on my tennis shoes and left the house, locking everything after me. I had an hour until the targets would show up to the city center to check out all shops, so I decided to take a walk there, try to use up the energy that didn’t go away while I was running due to it being cut short. I let Doyoung know that I was going out and to an agglomerated area, so that he didn’t have to worry, besides he had the tracker on. I snapped a few pictures as I walked and reveled in the silence around me as I took the back streets, where less people walked. I wondered what Wonwoo was doing, and suddenly I felt bad that I didn’t follow him around today. He’d be at his work place right now, having already been to the gym earlier this morning after he dropped Hyemi off at work and bought his coffee. What was interesting about Wonwoo was that each time he ordered coffee, he bought something different. My phone dinged as I turned onto the main street, getting lost in the crowd of people as I opened my phone and almost shrieked when I saw whom the message was from.
From Wonwoo: Hey…I hope I’m not bothering you…I was just wondering when we could meet up? You know…to give me back my t-shirt.
I struggled for a second to hold the phone in both hands and also not walk into others as I typed back.
To Wonwoo: Hi! You’re not bothering me at all! I washed it this morning…so if the weather is nice, it’ll be totally dry by tomorrow! Is tomorrow good for you?
I was about to put my phone away, but Wonwoo started typing back instantly and soon came his answer.
From Wonwoo: I can’t tomorrow, I won’t be in town and will only get back late. The next day…is it good for you?
I looked around me, noticing that I was in the area Mark instructed me to. I noticed the first jewelry shop and found a bench right across from it, so I hurried to take a seat there.
To Wonwoo: Sure, at noon? We can have lunch, since I turned it down last time…
My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for Wonwoo’s answer, which seemed to take ages, and in fact only took a few seconds.
From Wonwoo: Fine, but let’s go to a restaurant. The food is better than the one at the mall.
He wasn’t wrong, besides this was sounding an awful lot like a date. I giggled and looked around before typing back.
To Wonwoo: Tell me the location and time?
From Wonwoo: 1 o’clock, but I’ll pick you up. Give me your address.
I hesitated for a second, knowing better not to give away my address to a complete stranger. My parents warned me about bad people, and so did Doyoung numerous times…especially since he became a cop and had to work on many cases that ended badly due to naïve girls going on dates with guys from Tinder. But I didn’t meet Wonwoo on Tinder…and I’ve already been watching him for weeks, I know what he’s like.
Honestly, you would pass on an opportunity like this one, Y/N? Isn’t this what we’ve been working for? Getting Wonwoo? Why did you even bother if you’re about to refuse him?!
When I saw Wonwoo typing, I quickly sent him my address, scared that he thought I was about to refuse him after I was the one who proposed getting lunch.
From Wonwoo: Alright, I’ll be there then.
To Wonwoo: Can’t wait to see you!
I instantly regretted sending that, but it was no use deleting it as he had already read the message.
From Wonwoo: Me too.
I giggled again and as I looked up; I saw a black Ferrari pulling up. I quickly scrambled to get out my camera from my bag and turned it on at lightning speed. I snapped pictures as the targets got out of the car. They were the same guys from the pictures Mark sent me, Minghao and Junhui. Both dressed pretty fancy and I knew they were the targets. I remained seated as they walked inside the first jewelry shop and snapped a picture of it. They didn’t spend much time in, quickly headed to the next one. I followed them from the bench as long as I could, but as they started walking towards the end of the street, I had to move too to be able to catch them. My phone and Wonwoo were forgotten, but just as I got up from the bench, throwing my bag over my shoulder and camera in my hand, my phone buzzed. As the targets were still inside the shop, I quickly checked to see that I had another new message from Wonwoo.
From Wonwoo: What are you doing right now?
I paused a little bit, finding his wording a little weird, but shrugged it off. I looked up just as the targets walked out of the shop and placed my phone in my pocket, snapping pictures as they talked and looked around. I wasn’t afraid that they’d see me as there were lots of people around us, but it still felt like I was being watched. They didn’t move from that spot, so I quickly answered Wonwoo.
To Wonwoo: Nothing much, just working. You?
I looked up to see the targets moving across the street, headed to a simple gardening shop. What could they be doing there? I started quickly walking towards it and snapped a picture just as I passed by in front of it, hopeful that no one saw me. Especially the targets. Then they walked out and headed down the street, towards the bench I was sitting at previously. I trailed after them, keeping a good distance as I pretended to look around and snapped a few pictures of the things that were displayed in the windows, trying to act normal and as if I was a tourist. I felt my phone vibrating again, so I checked it with a sigh. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be doing my work.
From Wonwoo: Working too, waiting for my boss.
So Wonwoo was with Mingyu then, probably sitting in his red Mercedes, waiting for Mingyu to show up and order him around. I didn’t react to the text message as the targets started moving again, headed for the Ferrari they have arrived in. Hastily, I snapped a few more pictures of the car, getting the license plate, and once they sped off, I took a deep breath. Well, I wasn’t caught, so that was amazing. Now I just have to send Mark all the photos and then have some lunch, my stomach is screaming for food.
I found a nice restaurant just around the corner and sat at a table at the back, opening my laptop. I copied all pictures on it and then sent Mark everything through an e-mail before deleting everything off my camera and laptop. No traces of what I had done, perfect as always.
To Mark: Everything good?
From Mark: Perfect, thanks again. I’ll pay you later, wait around a little bit.
To Mark: Fine, I have to eat either way!
And then I put my phone away and ordered food, which thankfully came quickly, as I was really hungry. I bobbed my head to the songs played on the radio while I ate, my legs bouncing underneath the table, unable to sit still. Not that it was something unusual. I was slurping up the rest of the soup when Doyoung messaged me and told me he would be home early again and that he could pick me up if I wanted him to. But I couldn’t as Mark had to pay me still, so I told him that I wanted to stay out alone for a little bit longer. And after almost two hours of me sitting at the restaurant, Mark finally called me that he was in front of the gardening shop, waiting for me. Paying for the food and greeting the lady, I left the restaurant in a hurry, glad that Mark finally showed up. In truth, I wanted Doyoung to pick me up, but he was at home by now and I didn’t want to bother him. I would just take a cab as it was getting dark and I didn’t want to walk home anymore. The exchange between Mark and I was brief as usual and I quickly found a cab for myself. I got in and told the driver where to take me and got comfortable against the beige leather seats. I sighed and started tapping my thigh with my fingers, looking out the window at the bright billboards and lights of the city. We went past the first intersection, but traffic was getting bad as everyone was headed home or out to have fun, so we caught the next red light. The cab driver turned the volume of the radio up a bit as he started bobbing his head to the beat and I found myself tapping along it too; the song was catchy. Police car sirens could be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t something unusual. Then suddenly, there was a commotion a few cars behind us and as I twisted my neck to see what was happening, four figures in all black and masks covering their whole faces ran up to the car. The cab driver panicked and before he could lock the doors, his door was ripped open and he was pulled out. I jumped and opened my own door in a hurry, wanting to get out, but I couldn’t as all four doors of the cab were now ripped open and the four men jumped in. I got pushed into the middle by my head by the man on my right and squeezed there as I gripped my bag to my chest. All doors were shut closed and only the driver put on his seatbelt. Suddenly, he started reeving the engine and then crashed into the car in front of us. The car jolted and I gasped as I was sent forward, eyes wide as my heart pumped loudly. God damn it, I should have just accepted Doyoung’s offer and asked Mark to pay me tomorrow. The cab driver was holding onto his head and screaming for help as the sirens got closer and the driver started honking, trying to make space for us to pass. I remained silent and shocked, gripping onto my bag and hopeful that they wouldn’t do anything to me. They seemed too stressed about leaving and getting away from the approaching police.
“For fuck’s sake!” Suddenly the one in the passenger seat shouted, his voice raspy, as he threw his door open and got halfway out. And then a silver thing glinted in his hand and I made myself small as I knew he was about to pull the trigger. The gunshots were loud as people started screaming around, suddenly the cars in front of us started moving aside, the light had turned green too.
“Floor it!” The man to my left shouted and the one in the passenger seat hopped back in as the driver pressed the gas pedal and we were sent flying forward. I yelped and held onto the headrest of the passenger seat tightly, looking ahead. The driver was honking constantly until every car started moving out of the way and we were flying down the road, but the sirens were closer too. So close, that the red and blue lights could be seen from inside the car. My breathing started to pick up as my left leg was bouncing very fast, and I was trying to remain as calm as I could. It seemed like they didn’t want to bother with me, so if I remain silent, maybe nothing will happen to me. I might as well blindfold myself so that I know nothing about where they are taking me and then they can let me free as I haven’t seen their faces.
The light turned red in front of us, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to the traffic lights as he was speeding and switching lanes frantically, even going into the opposite lanes, making me squeeze my eyes shut. If we were about to run into any car, I didn’t want to see it. My bouncing leg knocked into something and I opened one eyes, becoming aware that these criminals were holding black bags that seemed to be heavy. They must have robbed some place and now were running away, just fucking perfect that they chose this cab! I gasped again as the car was jerked to the right and I was sent into the person on my left, making them hiss. I was expecting a slap or them to scream at me, but they just gently adjusted me back into the middle seat, turning their head towards me as if they realized for the first time that I was in the car too. I could see their brown eyes, and they widened. Mine widened too out of fear and I quickly ducked my head, holding onto my bag tightly. By now, the police was full on chasing these criminals, they were right behind us and the car was jerked to the left this time.
“Fuck this shit car!” A very deep voice suddenly shouted, making me jump, “I can’t outrun the fucking police in this old ass piece of shit—”
“Calm down!” The man on my right snapped, voice tense and raised. My left leg was bouncing so fast that I was getting a cramp in my thigh, but I couldn’t stop, I was on the brink of passing out from how anxious I was feeling. I stopped breathing normally a long time ago and I even started sweating, if only someone would’ve rolled down a window…
“Where the fuck do I go if they are trailing us? I can’t lose them here!” The deep voiced man continued shouting and he honked again as the sirens seemed to become deafening. But the more I concentrated on his deep voice, the more familiar it became. My body felt like it was made out of rock already, but it seemed like I could tense up even more. My breath got cut off for a second as my head snapped up, my whole body sitting up straight. My eyes bore into the back of the driver’s head. I knew that voice, but it can’t be. My brain is just making up things, I’m under so much stress that I started making up things.
“Take the back streets!” The man from the passenger seat answered him, “Boss is waiting at the docks.”
“The docks are fucking half an hour away from here! Start shooting at their cars tires, you idiots!” The driver’s deep voice boomed in the car and I shivered as three windows were rolled down. The three men suddenly all had weapons in their hands and they started shooting at the police car that was speeding beside the cab. I remained staring at the driver as my brain was screaming at me that the voice belonged to Wonwoo. Suddenly, the guy looked in the rearview mirror and our gazes connected. My mouth fell open when I saw foxy eyes staring back at me with the intensity I was used to seeing from Wonwoo, their brown seemed to be even darker as I gaped at Wonwoo. This can’t be happening, no. This must be a joke. But Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed and he quickly looked back at the road, taking another sharp turn as the rest managed to get rid of that one police car, but at least three more were still chasing us. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket and I let go of my bag with one hand, only now noticing how badly I was shaking. I knew no one was paying attention to me, so I curled up into a ball and sneakily placed the phone against my ear after hitting the green button.
“Y/N?!” Doyoung’s voice was frantic and the sirens were even louder through the phone, “Why the hell are you in the car we are chasing—”
Suddenly, the phone was ripped from my hands and I shrieked, trying to reach for it, “Doyoung!”
But the guys on each of my side held me down and the man in the passenger’s seat had the phone against his ear.
“Listen here—” But he was cut off by Doyoung, I could hear him screaming through the phone, but I didn’t understand what he was saying as all I could hear were my own loud heart beats as I struggled against the men holding me. Finally, my flight or fight kicked in, and I chose to fight as I didn’t really have the opportunity to run. Only God knows what was about to happen, I wasn’t going to sit around anymore. I elbowed the man on my right in the stomach and he cried out loudly as I finally freed my right arm. The man on my left was very skinny, but despite that he was very strong and my arm was turning numb, that’s how hard he was squeezing me. I started fighting against him too, punched him in the face with my free hand, even though he tried dodging it. My left arm was free too and I lunged for the guy in the passenger seat, knowing that I’d kill all of us if I started choking Wonwoo. So instead, my hands went around the other guy’s neck from behind as I started squeezing, the words he was about to say to my brother dying away in his throat. My phone fell from his hand and he gripped my wrists, trying to claw at me with his nails, but he was wearing glows. I started squeezing even harder as Wonwoo started swerving the car around violently.
“Get a fucking grip on her!” He shouted as with his right hand he gripped my bicep and started yanking on my arm. I cried out in pain, trying to elbow him as suddenly hands around my waist and forearms were pulling me back harshly. The guy I was choking started fighting back too, probably close to passing out as his struggling became less and less. But these guys were very strong, and two were pulling me back while one was squeezing so hard on my bicep that it felt like someone was trying to rip my arm off, I had to let go of the guy in the passenger seat. He started coughing and wheezing loudly as he fell forward. I screamed as I was restrained, this time the guys were almost sitting on me to stop me from fighting back. Wonwoo looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew that he knew I recognized him, his deadly glare made me still instantly. I was rooted against the leather seat as he reached for my phone and hit a button, no doubt calling my brother.
“You want your sister? You play along with me.” Was all he said before hanging up and throwing the phone back at me, hitting my knees as it fell onto the ground. The guys still held me tightly, even though I stopped struggling. The one in the front stopped coughing, but he was still leaned over, holding onto his head as he was breathing loudly. My lungs were rising and falling at an alarming pace as my legs started bouncing again. But then suddenly Wonwoo took a sharp U turn and the police cars stopped following us. The sirens stopped blaring, all you could see were the lights, lights that were getting farther away from us. Doyoung was getting farther away from me, he was in one of those cars! I bit my lower lip and tried to keep the thoughts about me dying out as for once in my life I focused on the voices.
Look at that, Y/N is having the most fun she’s ever head. Don’t worry, you won’t die. Wonwoo won’t kill you, he’s into you. And he probably knows that you know it’s him. Isn’t he just so hot? The way he screamed, the way he’s driving…and you thought he was boring?! His burning gaze makes you feel all sorts of ways, Y/N, admit it. Now calm down, you are getting out of this alive.
The voices weren’t helpful as they were rambling about Wonwoo, but I did take a deep breath and noticed that until I was zoned out, he stopped driving at a crazy speed. We were downtown, but nowhere close to the docks. Wonwoo pulled up into the parking lot of a poorly lit convenience store, where a police car was already there. But all lights were off and only one man was there, walking around the car anxiously. It was Doyoung and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when Wonwoo stopped the car just next to Doyoung’s police car. The doors were kicked open again and I jumped when the guy on my left held onto my bicep, Wonwoo squeezed me so hard that my whole arm was on fire, it would bruise so ugly. I was pulled out of the car, but not manhandled, as Doyoung came to a stop at the back of the car. The guy let go of me and I took two hurried steps, but someone blocked my path, and I ran into their hard chest. Musk and gunpowder. I didn’t look up at Wonwoo, only stared at his chest as I held my bag against my stomach, my whole-body trembling.
“Say a word to anyone about this, I know where you live and I won’t hesitate to find you.” His deep voice was low as he whispered to me, radiating anger. I bit my lower lip and said nothing as I knocked into him hard and walked past to get to Doyoung. He was quick to pull me into his arms and I clung onto him, telling myself that I was finally safe. It was silent as no one dared to say anything; Doyoung was so tense, he felt like I was hugging a rock.
“If you ever again put my sister into danger, I won’t hesitate to continue what Sana started. You’re lucky I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, otherwise you’d be laying in jail for life right now.” Doyoung was so angry, his voice trembled and it even raised a few octaves as he spoke to the criminals. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was just letting them off like that? They were criminals!
“Your generosity will be always returned, you know that, Doyoung.” The guy I choked could barely speak, his voice was a low rasp and then I heard something colliding against the concrete. Doyoung moved us a little as car doors were closed and the engine of the cab started again as Wonwoo pulled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. I let go of Doyoung and looked at him disappointed, lips trembling.
“You’re a corrupt cop?” I managed to say as a few tears fell from my eyes. He looked down at the bag and picked it up, remorse showing on his face.
“You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s a complicated story—”
“Nothing about this is complicated!” I shouted, angrily wiping the tears off my cheeks, “You just let four criminals run off like nothing happened! Like I couldn’t have been killed in that chase or afterwards by them! If people like you are the ones protecting this city everyone should be afraid for their own lives!”
Doyoung’s face got red and he pointed a finger at me, “You don’t get to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right! I’m not perfect; you think you’re the only one with flaws, Y/N?! Wake up! I’m not the perfect brother you always make me out to be! Once you start working for the mafia there’s no way out—”
“You work for the mafia?!” I screamed, seeing Doyoung in a different light for the first time. He really wasn’t the person I thought he was. The innocent Doyoung never existed, at least not since he’s been working for the mafia apparently.
“No, but I help them out sometimes. Mingyu and I made a pact a long time ago—”
“Kim Mingyu is the mafia leader?”
“Yes—”
“Who is Jeon Wonwoo?” Doyoung paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. I raised my eyebrows at him as I waited for an answer. Oh, and he was going to give me all the answers I wanted.
“A very skilled getaway driver, Mingyu’s closest and most trusted friend, and his chauffeur.” Doyoung answered me after he took a deep breath, searching my face for a reaction. But it never came, I surpassed it. I felt tired and I was aching all over, I need a warm bath and sleep. I didn’t even want to know anything anymore, that was enough.
“Let’s go home.” I said with a sigh and walked up to the police car, “I’m very tired.”
“Y/N—”
“Now, Doyoung.” I snapped and opened the door, sitting inside angrily. Doyoung shook his head before following suit, remaining silent for the rest of the night.
Isn’t Wonwoo just the most amazing person you’ve ever—Shut up, I shouted in my head, closing my eyes tightly. I was done listening to the voices. I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. No, Wonwoo was a criminal and he made it very clear what he’d do if I said anything about what happened. I was going to ask Mark to return that damned t-shirt to him and I never wanted to see Wonwoo again or talk to him again. I blocked his number and deleted all pictures I had of him in my phone. In the morning, when I was home alone, I was going to burn every single thing I had collected about him, every single picture I snapped. He was a criminal and I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
           Ever since last night Doyoung was acting like I was an alien. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t even look at me! He quietly greeted me when I walked to the kitchen to have breakfast, but before I could thank him for making breakfast or ask him how he slept, he was out of the front door. He barely checked up on me all day, and when I gave him a call to ask him if he’d come home for lunch as I cooked food, he didn’t answer but sent a text saying that he couldn’t speak to me at the moment. It was pissing me off. I didn’t want him to make this harder for us. What I found out was a lot to take in and I wasn’t proud of him, but he was my brother and he was the only person who stood by my side since day one without judging me. I loved him very much and I needed him next to me. I needed him to understand that nothing changed between us, besides the fact that currently I was very pissed off and scared. The police were still patrolling around the neighborhood as no DNA was found inside the house that didn’t belong to us, and honestly, I was on the verge of inviting the officers inside the house as I jumped at every sound. Sleep came easily as I was very stressed, but my eyes opened at five in morning and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep, so I got to work. I gathered everything I had on Wonwoo and threw it in the fireplace in the back garden and watched it as it burned away in the morning light. It eased my nerves a little bit as I clutched the blanket tighter around me, knowing that Wonwoo was out of town today. But tomorrow he wouldn’t be, and I had a feeling that he was still going to want to meet up with me. But I didn’t want to, not anymore. Knowing that Mark wasn’t sleeping at that hour, I called him, and told him everything that happened. He was very sorry and felt really guilty and promised to never send me off to watch mafia members, I was content with that. Watching shady business men was alright, but following mafia members wasn’t fun anymore. I stayed inside the whole day after I went on my run and just cleaned and cooked even more. I updated my blog and accepted a request of someone to put up my photos in their gallery next month. Since Mark wasn’t going to contact me for a while now, I started looking for vacation destinations. I really needed it, I had to get away from the city for a while. The voices went quiet and even when I listened closely, I only heard intangible whispers. It was good, it meant I was over Wonwoo. Even if I wasn’t really. The fairytale I was living in was shattered and as I glanced at his folded t-shirt, I sighed. I was hoping that for once I finally found someone who would be good for me, but it turned out I was very wrong. Usually my hunches were good, but this time I was totally blinded by his attractiveness and the voices that never knew better. Shaking my head, I remembered the old lady from the woods and wondered if she was still alive…or if she’d recognize me if I showed up. She told me she’d welcome me anytime again, but I didn’t visit her very frequently as my family was keeping a close eye on me after I ran away, and it was fine. But now, I craved to be engulfed in total silence and the green nature around me.
Nightfall came and I was eating on the couch as I watched a reality show, laughing loudly when something was amusing. It wasn’t very late, but the sun still set early as we haven’t passed the spring solstice yet. I just bit into the meatball I made for lunch when the front door was unlocked and I heard Doyoung’s keys.
“Hi!” I called out with my mouth full, raising the hand with which I was holding the fork to wave at him. Doyoung hummed and went to the fridge directly and opened it.
“Oh, I made a lot of food today,” I said as I turned around, resting both legs on the couch, “Meatballs, found some spaghetti too so I made some sauce for it. I made a salad with the veggies we had and lentil cream soup, your favorite!”
But Doyoung didn’t react and my eyebrows furrowed as I chewed the food I had in my mouth. This had do end right now, I wasn’t going to let my brother treat me like I was invisible just because I found out that he’s a corrupt cop.
“Hey!” I snapped, placing the plate on the coffee table forcefully, “Stop being a pussy and face me!”
Doyoung sighed and threw a glance at me as he took out the soup and I spoke again, “Aren’t I the one supposed to be giving you the silent treatment?!”
Doyoung just shrugged as he took a bowl and poured soup into it, “I don’t know…”
“Nice to hear you are still able to speak—”
“Are you not mad?” Doyoung cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark and I glared at him.
“I’m very mad, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop acknowledging you, yeah? What kind of shit person does that?” I rolled my eyes and Doyoung chuckled, throwing a glance at me as he sat at the table to eat.
“The me kind of shit person apparently.” I chuckled and resumed eating as Doyoung did too. I lowered the volume of the TV a little bit and turned back towards him again, taking in his attire. His uniform changed; I didn’t notice it this morning.
“You have a new uniform?” I asked with a grin and Doyoung nodded, looking down at himself.
“Yeah, I got it today.” I nodded and bit into the meatball.
“Well, congratulations—next time lock the mafia guys up, yeah?” Doyoung paused and I knew it was too soon to joke about this, but I wasn’t exactly joking. My tone wasn’t playful at all and Doyoung sighed, wordlessly nodding as he started slurping his soup.
“Were you that hungry? You didn’t even change…” I wondered as Doyoung finished eating and stood up.
“No, but I have to go to the funeral house. It’s Sana’s watcher…” My lips formed a thin line as I nodded, finishing my dinner wordlessly as Doyoung moved around the kitchen. He squeezed some lemon in his water and drank it, closing his eyes for a second. His body seemed tense and he was hunched a little forward as he washed away the dishes he used.
“Don’t come too late, you should rest more.” I said as Doyoung nodded and put on his shoes, taking his keys.
“You too, don’t wait for me.” He said and I nodded, watching him leave the house. The locked the door and I sighed, getting up from the couch. I walked to the sink and washed the plate and fork I used, putting them away. I left the TV on as I just wanted to change into my pajamas and go back to watch something before bed. But as I reached my door, I heard footsteps outside the front door and knocking. Rolling my eyes, I walked to the front door and unlocked it, ready to tease Doyoung for forgetting something at home again. But it wasn’t Doyoung. I froze as I stared at Wonwoo’s face, goosebumps suddenly covering my body. Then I realized it was Wonwoo and quickly tried to slam the door closed, but Wonwoo was quick to react and he started pushing it back. I hissed and put all of my weight against it, struggling to close it as Wonwoo was pushing just as hard to open it up. I was wearing socks and my right leg slipped on the tiles and Wonwoo gained advantage as my weight shifted. He was able to push it wide enough to slip inside and I quickly abandoned the thought of trying to keep him out of the house and ran to the cupboard full of knives. I quickly opened it and took out the sharpest knife we had and turned around, just in time as Wonwoo almost reached me.
“Stay away!” I pointed the knife at him and he stayed rooted, his sharp eyes gazing into mine, “What do you want? I didn’t say anything to anyone—Doyoung already knew about you! You want your bloody t-shirt?! It’s in my room!”
Wonwoo remained silent and I jerked my hand slightly, showing him that I wasn’t afraid to stab him. I wouldn’t go down without a good fight, in case he thought I was scared of him. Which I was, but I was angrier right now and it ruled over my fear.
“I just came to talk.” Wonwoo said calmly and I chuckled dryly, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, nice talking. This is how you usually do it? You break into someone’s house and get threatened by a knife and then just…talk?”
“I usually don’t get threatened.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug and I huffed, eyes darting towards my phone that was on the coffee table. If I outsmart Wonwoo, I can get to my phone and run inside my room and jump out the window. Then he can try and talk to me, but I won’t be here anymore.
“Well…less stressful for you, I guess.” I tried stalling, gripping the knife tighter, “But I’m not in the mood to talk.”
“Just listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Wonwoo’s voice softened and his eyes did too as he tried pleading me with his gaze. I rolled my eyes and then lunged towards him, without the intention of stabbing him. I just wanted to take him off guard, to distract him. And it worked as he jumped back with a gasp, his sharp eyes widening. I dropped the knife and pushed him hard, making him fall onto his butt. I quickly ran around him and got to the fridge when I was grabbed. Well, obviously my plan wasn’t a smart one and this is why Doyoung checked on me regularly. I really needed someone to look after me. I yelped as Wonwoo’s arms went around my waist and roughly yanked me back, pinning me against the table with his body. He didn’t look very pleased and my heart started beating quickly, thinking of a way to free myself from his grip. I could either kneel him or just try and headbutt him, but it seemed like Wonwoo guessed what I was thinking as his lean and muscular body molded into mine. My wrists were pinned to the table and I shivered, his cologne hitting my nose hard. He smelled like musk and gunpowder again and he was so close I could count his lashes if I wanted to. I craned my head back and tried to move around, but it only made me feel more parts of body and that was too much just yet.
Look at this compromising position, Y/N. All you have to do is lean in and open your knees, isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? We are guessing Wonwoo wants the same thing…not that we are complaining.
I tried to remain unexpressive as the voices suddenly returned and were very loud, of course they’d come back in a situation like this one.
“Well, this is very uncomfortable.” I said quietly, maintaining the eye contact with Wonwoo. My heart was beating fast and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Why do I still like him? After yesterday…how can I still like him?
“Well, you didn’t give me a choice.” Wonwoo muttered, his low voice vibrating against his chest and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed and then glared at him, “why would I want to talk to a criminal? Let alone give him a chance to explain himself?”
“Did you let your brother explain himself?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose and I glanced away, trying to free my wrists again.
“Kind of…” Wonwoo just hummed and lessened his hold on my wrist so that it didn’t hurt anymore. The bicep he squeezed so hard was now a beautiful shade of green and purple.
“Then it’s my turn—”
“Whatever Wonwoo, I really don’t care. You’re part of the mafia and you robbed the jewelry shops Mark asked me to watch yesterday. And then you had to run away because Mark alerted the police thanks to me and then very sadly you got in the same cab with me. And look at my bicep, you did that.” I snapped, looking down at the bruise as Wonwoo’s gaze followed. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking back up at me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He muttered with remorse as he looked at it again. His words and reaction were genuine but I just rolled my eyes.
“A little late for that, now—” I shoved myself into him, but it did nothing, “Let go of me.”
Wonwoo’s lips pulled in a straight line and he shook his head, seemingly thinking about what to do next. But I started struggling and trying to move him back so that I would be able to knee him. But he probably knew that was what I was trying to do and squeezed my legs together between his.
“God, the second I get out of your hold I will beat you up so badly, Wonwoo, no one will be able to recognize you—” Wonwoo’s deep laughter echoed in the house as I looked at him menacingly. I wasn’t joking, I really wanted to beat him up and I would, but I needed to free myself first.
“I love how you underestimate me; the shock will be bigger once I’m done—” But Wonwoo’s laughter was so contagious that I had to fight back my own. His nose was scrunched up and I just noticed how he wasn’t wearing glasses. His hair was styled back and he seemed to be wearing some fancy clothes, his pants were silky. He was very attractive, but I tried to ignore my sudden thirst for him. So, I looked away and he slowly stopped laughing, my eyes fell on the front door as I tried coming up with another escape route. But on the ground were five white lilies and I felt my mind go blank as I stared at them. There’s no possible way anyone brought those in, Doyoung and I never buy white lilies, and Wonwoo is the only one that just barged in. Wonwoo.
“Oh my God,” I muttered in despair, looking at Wonwoo all frantic, “Did you—bring those flowers? Wonwoo?!”
Wonwoo looked at the flowers and cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Yeah.”
“Oh my God.” I muttered again and felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was Wonwoo all along? What is happening? I don’t understand anything anymore!
Well…at least you found out who your secret admirer is. And it’s Wonwoo, you should be happy it’s him and not some old creep—
“Shut up!” I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes shut, “This can’t be happening. No fucking way.”
Wonwoo looked confused when I opened my eyes and looked at him, “You were breaking in our house for two weeks?!”
“You’re the one to make a scene, huh?” Wonwoo suddenly raised his voice and his eyes narrowed as he started glaring at me, “You’ve been stalking me for two weeks.”
I gaped at him and blinked, taken off guard, “I—I wasn’t—what?”
“Yeah, you really thought I wouldn’t know?” He chuckled unamused, “I’m surprised it took you this long to realize it was me bringing the flowers.”
My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at him confused, “How was I supposed to know?! I thought you had no idea I was watching you—”
“Stalking me.”
“Stalking you, whatever,” I rolled my eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, “It doesn’t give you the right to break in my room and—were you marking your territory or some shit mafias do? Were you showing other mafias that you were to be the one to kill me—”
“What nonsense are you talking about?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed and I tried to push him away again, my back was becoming numb, “You fantasize too much. Mafias don’t do that, but—”
“But what?!” I snapped, eyes widening.
“I did think of killing you in the first three days of you stalking me.” Wonwoo finished with a smirk. My heart skipped another beat as I started breathing faster, his musky scent made me feel dizzy.
“What?!” I exclaimed and started struggling against Wonwoo again, trying to free myself, “For God’s sake, I can’t feel my back anymore, Wonwoo!”
He gave me a look that said if I tried running away again he’d tie me to a chair and leave me there until Doyoung returned, he probably would’ve gagged me too, so I just sighed and let go of all muscles, softening my body. Wonwoo’s eyes gazed into mine intently and his hold slowly loosened as he seemed to lean in subconsciously. My eyes fell onto his lips and realized how plump his upper lip was, but we both snapped out if at the same time as he stepped back and I jumped away from the table, breathing hard. I massaged my lower back as best as I could as I licked my lips and looked at Wonwoo with a glare.
“I don’t like what I’m about to say—” And I took a deep breath and watched as Wonwoo started smirking again, “But what if…we both just forget about all the shit we did and…go on and live our lives like we never met. And, I don’t know, get some therapy as we both apparently need it badly.”
My words made Wonwoo laugh again and I actually smiled this time too, feeling tired after all the new information dumped on me.
“I can’t do that,” Wonwoo said once his laughter died down, “I can’t continue living like I never met you.”
I shrugged and ran my hands through my hair, looking away from him, “Well, I can and I will. So, you better do the same or else I’ll tell Doyoung about everything and he’ll be really pissed and won’t care about Mingyu or whoever, yeah?”
Look at our Y/N lying like that, as if all of this didn’t happen because of her.
I felt Wonwoo move closer to me and his fingers ghosted over the bruise on my left bicep, “Can you really pretend I don’t exist? When you started this?”
“I didn’t start shit!” I snapped and turned my body away from his, “I stalked you for two weeks and I won’t do it anymore because I got over you. I always do. It never lasts for long, you’re not special.”
But he is Y/N, you know it. He knows it.
“Really?” Wonwoo muttered with a small smile and I just shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “Because I watched you the whole time we were in the same Coffee Shop. You were following that businessman, working for Mark, I assume. I noticed how you couldn’t stay still and how you whispered things to yourself. How the barista lit up when she saw you and talked to you. If you wouldn’t have stalked me after that day, I would’ve still found you.”
I just gulped and felt all the anger, frustration, fear melt away as I slowly looked at Wonwoo, “But you broke inside my bedroom…to give me flowers…”
My voice was small and he nodded as he stepped closer, placing his palm on my cheek. I almost jumped at how warm his palm was again and tried to ignore the rapid beat of my heart, “And I was wrong to do that…sorry.”
“Sorry for stalking you.” I muttered and a small grin appeared on Wonwoo’s lips as he closed the distance between our bodies again.
“I’m also sorry for the other bad things I did.” Wonwoo added.
“Yeah, fuck you.” I said with a chuckle and his grin widened into a smile.
You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?
I rolled my eyes at the voices but Wonwoo didn’t react as he leaned down and his red lips pressed against my cheek, making me blush instantly. Why did I forgive him so easily? Maybe because both of us fucked up big time this time.
“I still expect to see you tomorrow at lunch for our date, so tell Mark to stay at home.” My eyes widened as Wonwoo stepped back, letting go of my cheek.
“How do you know—”
“I’m in the mafia, remember? I know everything.” He winked and walked towards the front door.
“And you called me the stalker.” He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped outside.
“Don’t tell Doyoung just yet, he’s very mad for what I did yesterday—”
“Yeah, me too.” I cut him off and Wonwoo gave me an apologetic smile.
“Sleep well.”
“Don’t break in my room anymore!” I called out as he walked down towards the gate, turning around to wave at me. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door, locking it. Jesus, this really is not how I expected things to turn out. I don’t think I need to watch any TV to feel sleepy. This is my cue to rest and worry about what to wear tomorrow for lunch.
You can wear whatever, Wonwoo is head over heels for you, Y/N. And as we’re seeing, you’re too for him.
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captnjacksparrow · 3 years ago
Note
I honestly agree with a lot of your opinions, and even when I don't, I think that your arguments are always well structure and respectful to other people.
But I have some questions (and I'm sorry if you have already answer them), (also sorry for some of my English, it's not my first language)
How do you feel about narusaku?
How do you feel about people changing certain aspects about Sakura to try to improve her character?
How would you improve Sakura?
How much do you think Sakura being a good character could affect the story?
What was the moment you really started to ship SNS? And what are you favorite moments?
(Sorry if there's ro many questions)
I honestly agree with a lot of your opinions, and even when I don't, I think that your arguments are always well structure and respectful to other people.
Aww!!!! Thank you, Anon. This made my day. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
I will start from my favourite question (The one in the last)
What was the moment you really started to ship SNS?
I never wore any shipping lens, Anon.
Literally, I started to ship SNS only after Episode 478 or Chapter 698. Before that, I always had these doubts in the back of my mind.
'Something seems to be very weird between these guys',
'Why are they behaving differently compared to other friends?',
'Why Sasuke is behaving totally different towards Naruto?',
'Why Sasuke agreed to honour Naruto's promise under the bridge, despite having no shred of affection towards his other former Team Members?',
'Why Naruto is so obsessed with Sasuke?',
'Why Sasuke felt Naruto's chakra in Konoha and bothered by it?',
'Why Sasuke is protecting Naruto like a precious treasure only to end up wanting to kill him?',
'Why Sasuke has this weird obsession that ONLY I CAN KILL NARUTO but not someone else?',
So, I had all these questions piling up one by one inside my mind as the series progressed and I can't simply jump into a conclusion because I don't know what Sasuke was thinking. I hate one-sided ship and I want reciprocation. So, I usually put all these questions on the back burner and started to focus on the story. Damn!!!, The story was equally captivating and emotionally daunting. When Sasuke finally confessed his feelings towards Naruto in Episode 478, I simply couldn't believe myself but ship them. Because, in no world, Friends would behave this way towards each other.
So, to answer your question, it's after Episode 478, I started to ship them. But if you want me to say when exactly I started to doubt their level of friendship??
It's this moment,
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Now you may think, 'Yeah, you saw two boys in a close proximity and decided to ship together. It's nothing strange'.
I have to say, Close proximity was the last thing, I felt from this scene. My reason was those heart breaking scenes that happened before which led to this specific moment.
I will make it as short as possible. I'll start with this
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God!! I wanted to punch Sasuke so badly when he said this with a deadpan expression. It looks like he was lying just to get power. I thought, 'Sasuke!!! What a lying piece of crap you are!! If you want to kill Naruto, Just do it. Why doing a fake confession? '.
It doesn't help as the fight progressed because Sasuke was really playing football with Naruto and when this happened,
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I was shell-shocked because, the Sasuke we saw so far is no more. It even confirmed my thoughts about the fake confession. Which sane person will ram Chidori through his Close Friend's body?.
After many blows were exchanged, I simply wished for one thing. Naruto should win and Sasuke should be stopped no matter what. When the final Rasengan vs Chidori happened, I couldn't understand what was going on inside that power ball. Naruto and Sasuke look at each other with pained expression and we see the younger version of them smiling at each other.
And then finally we see a knocked out Naruto with Sasuke standing and looking at him without any expression and was about to say, 'Naruto.... I' which was interrupted by rain and when Sasuke felt a stinging pain in his arms and falls down on his knees. He coughs up blood and then this iconic scene happens.
That scene conveyed many things
Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto but couldn't.
Sasuke meant what he said. Naruto is his closest friend, it’s not a lie.
Sasuke couldn't severe his ties completely with Naruto.
Sasuke's pain of saying 'Goodbye' is greater than the stinging pain in his arms.
Sasuke deliberately, I repeat deliberately and not accidentally, came close to look at Naruto's face and experiencing something that, we, audience don't know. 
So, you see, Anon. The emotional train wreck that led to this scene made me really doubt about their depth of feelings they had towards each other for the first time. That's when I thought, 'Something seems to be very weird between these guys, what is it?'
And what are you favorite (SNS) moments?
There are two moments which shows how Sasuke is playing an emotional battle within himself. 
1. Sasuke, Susanoo, Naruto, Minato
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This happens right after Sasuke said to Obito, “Not you.... The one who is going to sever the past is....me”.
In this moment, Sasuke can pretty much let Naruto to die, because nobody is trying to kill Naruto. Still, he saved him with a 3 layered protection. The best part is Sasuke acted quicker than Minato, the fastest shinobi, to protect Naruto. Surely Minato wouldn’t want to blow up near his Son, for whom he gave his life once. It’s just that Sasuke is extremely quicker at this moment. 
2. For some reason, My Sharingan deactivated on it’s own
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If only, Sasuke maintained his Sharingan, he could’ve traced Naruto’s movements and deflected his upper cut and would’ve successfully landed his Chidori through him. But he just couldn’t. 
Both these scenes happens in a span of a day but Sasuke’s emotions fluctuates a lot when it comes to killing Naruto, protecting Naruto, can’t kill Naruto. 
How much do you think Sakura being a good character could affect the story?
To be Honest Anon, Storywise ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
Yes, I agree with her amazing performance in Gaara retrieval Arc where she tagged along with Granny Chiyo and almost killed Sasori.
After that ????
She did nothing in the Sasuke Reunion Arc. It was all about Naruto vs Orochimaru, Yamato’s Wood style jutsu, Sai’s betrayal towards Orochimaru. Geez!!! I liked her attitude in this arc but totally spoiled when she was standing simply like a wooden doll when Sasuke was about to stab Naruto. It was Sai who blocked Sasuke.... I was like, ‘Girl!!!! You said you will save Sasuke for Naruto when he went into 4 tails mode. What happened now??? Why are you not stopping him???’
She was just making Food Pills in the Rasen Shuriken Arc.
She was basically climbing from one tree to another in the Sasuke killing Orochimaru to Sasuke joining Akatsuki Arc. Even Naruto’s role was very minimal in that arc except he met Kabuto, Dead soul of Jiraiya, Itachi, a split second meeting with Sasuke where he got Chidori’ed and fought with Tobi. 
She was just a spectator praying for Naruto in the Pain Arc. Yeah, she did healed few people and punched some monsters. But it just doesn’t matter. Even Konohamaru killed a Pain in that arc. 
She turned into an Asshole by making a fake confession towards Naruto and decided to kill Sasuke in the Kage Summit Arc. I think, this is where Kishi decided to shit on her mercilessly by making her into someone who was going to hurt both of her team mates mentally and physically. Basically Kishi transformed a clever medical Ninja who can find an antidote in a matter of hours to an asshole who believed Naruto did everything for her and even more of an idiot by planning to kill Sasuke with just a poisoned Kunai. Isn’t she the one who told Kakashi that Sasuke was given forbidden drugs to improve his strength after their Reunion??? Can’t she put 2+2 together to know Sasuke would be immune to poisons because of his days spent with Orochimaru??? Yeah, she did impacted the story. But it was not for her development. Sakura’s foolishness made Naruto and Sasuke to meet each other again and made a promise. So, you see, she was just a tool that pushes the narrative development of other characters, not her own. Her development took a big blow in this arc.
She was non-existent in the Naruto-Killer Bee Training Arc.
She was just healing people and punched some zetsu during Powerful Edo-Tensei Shinobis vs Allied Shinobi forces Arc. I expected her to have a special fight. But Nope. Even Ino, Shikamaru and Choji fought Asuma, Kakuzu and Kinkaku, Ginkaku brothers. 
She was non-existent in the Uchiha Madara vs 5 Kages mini arc
She was non-existent in Obito vs Naruto, Kakashi, Might Guy and Killer Bee mini arc.
She was non-existent in the Sasuke & Itachi vs Kabuto mini arc.
She was non-existent in the Edo Tensei’ed Hokages and Team Sasuke arc.
She was punching some Juubi Clones in the Official War Arc which will never make a difference to the story. At the same time, her character was transformed from an Asshole who hurted her teammates to an horny biasshhhh who wants only Sasuke’s D. She summoned Katsuyu and was healing soldiers. But there were an army of Medical Ninjas too. So her absence will not affect the story in a big way. She did Lip to Lip CPR for Naruto though. Again, that would never help Naruto in a major way unless he was helped by Obito by placing Bijuu inside him. Again, Kishi didn’t make her the sole saviour here. Instead, she was used as a medium to facilitate Obito’s transformation from a bad guy to good guy. Kishi made Obito as the Saviour here. 
She was useless and was not able to destroy Obito’s rinnegan in the Reincarnation of Indra and Ashura vs Rikkudou Sennin Madara arc.
She was useless in the Kaguya arc. [Sorry, that punch won’t make any difference because Kaguya must be stupid to not use her 360 degree vision to see Sakura from behind. With Naruto and Sasuke has already become a demi god at this point, her clown show is incomparable].
She was useless in the final Naruto vs Sasuke arc.
So, you tell me Anon. Did she make any impact to the story that served as a major twist?? 
The story revolved around Naruto and Sasuke. 
Itachi, Obito, Jiraiya, Madara, Hashirama and other Hokages were the game changers of this story. Meaning, their presence or death will change the story by a huuuuggge margin.
Tsunade, Orochimaru, Team Nagato, Kabuto helped our protagonists in a BIGGGG WAAYYYY.
Akatsuki were just amazing who gave us the sense of thrill as well as fun. 
Even Sakura being good will never impact the story because she had no dedicated arc written for her.
But, if she were written as a good character, my viewing experience would have improved in a relaxing way so much so that I don’t have to press my fast forward button whenever she appears and I wouldn’t be writing this post explaining why I hate her.
How would you improve Sakura?
Simple, By writing her similar to Rin Nohara.
No obsession but a simple love towards Sasuke.
No toxicity but caring friendship towards Naruto. 
That’s all.
How do you feel about people changing certain aspects about Sakura to try to improve her character?
Well, that means they would qualify as a fanfiction writers, aren’t they??.
Also, this inherently proves that she is a piss poor character and people wants to change certain aspects of her which they find annoying. But it will 100% end up being OOC. And I’m not into reading those OOC stuffs, Anon.
I always believe in accepting what the author has given rather than trying to fix their work. Because the author writes a character deliberately to make the readers feel what he intended in the first place. Kishi could write a redemption for even someone like Orochimaru towards the very end. Like, he literally made him to help Sasuke, not as a human predator, but as a former Master and an admirer. He wrote him to help Tsunade and other Kages. So in the end, Orochimaru was not hated like he was hated in part 1. If he can write something for Orochimaru, why not for Sakura??? 
You know how I can redeem Sakura in just 3 or 4 panels?
Let me tell you.
After that fake confession, Sakura could talk to Naruto,
“I am very Sorry, Naruto. I know you will never take things in your heart. But still I shouldn’t have used Love as a tool to make you not to do something. I was an Idiot to not realize how badly you want to save Sasuke. It wasn’t just for me. But it was for Sasuke and also for you, as his friend and also for us as Team 7. So, how about we go to Ichiraku, for a nice lunch??” 
While confessing Sasuke for the second time,
“It seems you still want to go on to that dark path, isn’t it?. I am not the most powerful ninja in this world and I know I can’t trade blows with you. But still.... if you try to hurt my friend, Naruto and my master, Tsunade. I will fight with all my strength to kill you..... Even though I love you”
I am pretty sure, if Sakura confessed something along these lines, everyone would have admired her and it shows her emotional maturity as a Kunoichi who wants to do something to this world as well as a person who is ready to kill someone she loved in order to protect the people she holds dear.
In chapter 699. Before saying Goodbye to Sasuke,
“I am very Sorry, Sasuke. I never really understood what was going on inside your heart. And, I always forced myself on you because of my selfishness. I really feel bad for those things. I never really became your friend in the first place. How about we say farewell as ‘a good friends’, before your redemption journey??” (Shakes hands.... End of Scene)
How is this???
Is it pleasant to read?? Of course, Yes.
I am pretty sure it wouldn’t take more than 4 or 5 panels. Kishi could’ve easily did something like this. Am pretty sure readers would’ve been satisfied. Her fans too. Even I would’ve forgiven her mistakes.
But Kishi didn’t and I am very sure it’s deliberate. Because, this very same Kishimoto could able to write Konan, Tsunade who acts with so much maturity without whining like a little girl.
Which shows Kishi clearly hates this character and never wanted to redeem her. 
So no matter how many people improve this character, it will never be believable.
How do you feel about narusaku?
Naruto always placed Sasuke as his priority, Anon. That’s always the case. So, apart from SNS, if you want me to say whether NaruSaku had any potential?
I would say, yes, NaruSaku had potential. I will not deny it. Naruto had some liking towards Sakura compared to the absolute indifference towards Hinata.
There are some moments Sakura genuinely cried for Naruto without anyone’s influence. I liked it. Say, the scene where she cried on hearing ‘A Jinchuriki without Bijuu will die” and with Yamato she told, “I can only do little things for Naruto”.
These are all coming from her own heart. No one instilled inside her.
[[[ That’s why I will not accept her realization of ‘Annoying, huh? So, this is how Naruto must have felt too. Maybe I should be a little nicer to him next time’ as genuine in Episode 3. Because she realized only after Sasuke roasted her. I want feelings to emerge subconsciously rather than instilled by someone. ]]]
Unlike the asshole Sakura she was in part 1, Sakura started out good in Shippuden. I was surprised with her development in Gaara Retrieval Arc and was not at all annoyed by her presence. (Except when she said she will save Naruto and Sasuke from Itachi.... Grrrrr.... Biashhhhh.... Do you know Itachi’s abilities first of all??? He can crush you like a meatball with his Susanoo)
I started to feel, ‘Wooow!!! She has improved a lot. Great!!!!’.
Even though, she was useless in Rasen Shuriken Arc, She still made an effort to make food pills for Naruto. She even hugged Naruto much to his surprise, before all the villagers and especially before, ahemmm Hinata after defeating Pain.
Despite all of these moments that had happened between them, I could only see them as a pair formed of mutual tragedies rather than mutual attraction, Anon. In their case, Losing Sasuke. I wasn’t 100% sure whether Sakura moved on from Sasuke or not. Because When Sakura was looking for Sasuke with Kakashi’s Tracking dogs, she was still in love with him. So Sakura fluctuates between her obsession with Sasuke and some genuine feelings towards Naruto. 
Kage summit Arc is where everything changed and finalized. Sakura was crying like an annoying shit when she heard that Sasuke joined Akatsuki and was wanted by Raikage. This clearly shows her obsession has flared up again and ‘Poof’ all the development she had with Naruto was thrown into drain. 
On top of it, the fake confession. Grrrrrr.......
Plus, Naruto officially closed the possibilities of this ship by saying, “Sasuke, I know the Truth of Itachi from a guy named Tobi. I don’t know whether it’s true or not. But whatever you’ve been doing so far (hunting Killer Bee, ruckus in Kage summit conference, trying to kill Sakura, Kakashi).... It’s all understandable”.
If Naruto truly, wholeheartedly, deeply loved Sakura, he wouldn’t have said something like, ‘It’s understandable why you tried to kill Sakura”. He should have beaten Sasuke into a pulp. Or atleast shown some intense anger. Instead, Naruto was talking to Sasuke and making promise by saying ‘We will die together’. It’s like Sakura playing cupid for Sasuke and Naruto.
Naruto was okay with someone trying to kill Sakura whereas he was not okay with someone trying to kill Sasuke and even went to the extent of hyperventilating. This is why I feel any other ships are incomparable with SNS. 
After that Sakura started to behave rabidly towards Sasuke in the War arc which I can’t help but feel disgusting. So, anything she did for Naruto in the War Arc was overshadowed by her crazy obsession towards Sasuke. That’s why her CPR doesn’t matter, Sakura healing Naruto doesn’t matter. [Naruto has his own regenerative abilities, so whatever she does will not matter much for him]
So, NaruSaku was closed officially by Naruto and Sakura. It couldn’t sail because of the presence of Sasuke. 
At the end, I felt like Sakura used Naruto for getting her man back ready for romance rather than a killer mode Sasuke. I couldn’t feel the friendship they once had or any familiarity. 
I just hate people who don’t value friendships, anon. Sakura was not even a good friend, first of all. Yeah she had her friendly moments here and there. But, at the end of the series, she was not. A war has just ended, many people lost their lives, her supposed ‘best friend’ Ino lost her father. Why can’t she help her out emotionally? Why can’t she do some fucking good stuffs for this Shinobi world like her other teammates?? Instead, what she did was ‘let’s go and persuade Sasuke-kun to lend me some D by going along with his journey. Because I am so horny’. 
It not how you were in the beginning, It’s how you ended up being. She started this series as a worst friend and she ended up as a worst human being for me. How can I ship such a person with Naruto????
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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago
Text
Virtual Sleepover
Read Virtual Sleepover on AO3
Masterlist
Written for Maribat March Day 4 - Internet Friends
Quarantine had been rough at Wayne Manor, but for Tim Drake, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a bright light through it all. Tim was getting ahead of himself, though. The story of Marinette Dupain-Cheng started on March 20th, 2020. Panic over coronavirus was sweeping the nation. Bruce had gathered all of the members of the Wayne family into the dining room to explain the new rules of the house. No one was to go in or out. Groceries would be delivered to the house. There would be no superhero outings for at least two weeks. Tim didn't think his family would be able to survive, trapped in a house together.
So to preserve his sanity, Tim turned to the internet. There were hundreds of cold cases that he had put on the backburner and hundreds of forums and websites dedicated to solving cold cases. Tim turned to the most popular website and started dumping information, hoping for someone to show up and work through it with him. That's how Tim met Marinette. @MarinetteDC showed up on his page with a friend request, a wide range of technical knowledge about textiles and designs, and about seven different theories on a murder case Tim considered all but unsolvable. Her sleep schedule was just as chaotic as Tim's and she also drank a near-inhuman amount of coffee. Marinette Dupain-Cheng enthralled Tim. And when the chaos of his house threatened to make Tim lose his mind, Marinette became his lifeline.
"Can you hear me?"
Tim nodded. "Yep!"
"Nice!" cheered Marinette. Tim relished the opportunity to see her face, even if it was through a zoom call. "So what do we want to do first? I don't have class until Monday, so we have the whole weekend ahead of us."
"I think we should start with the iconic sleepover classic: truth or dare," suggested Tim.
"Alright. Truth or dare, Tim?"
"Dare." Tim was confident in his abilities to pull off any stunt she might come up with. However, his confidence started to fade as he watched a devious look grow on her face.
"I dare you to bake a batch of cookies - any kind of cookies you want - without using a recipe."
Tim blinked, trying to recall the last time he had baked. Besides a few times helping Alfred out in the kitchen, Tim wasn't certain that he had ever used the Wayne Manor kitchen for anything other than brewing coffee and heating frozen pizzas. "Could I have a new dare?"
Marinette shook her head, the grin on her face demonstrating exactly how much fun she was having, watching the panic in Tim's eyes. "I'll give you one hint on how to make them, but only one, so use it wisely."
Tim groaned, unplugging his laptop from its charger so he could move it to the kitchen. "I'm not actually certain I know all of the ingredients in cookies. Or how long you bake them for. I feel like an hour is probably too long, but I feel like half an hour might not be enough time."
On the other side of the screen, Marinette tried to stifle her giggles but was unable to keep them all in. "No offense Tim, but this is going to be a disaster. I can't wait."
Tim let out another groan. "Must you torture me?"
"How about you keep the laptop camera pointed towards the oven, that way I can tell you once something starts to burn?" Marinette joked.
Tim knew that she was teasing, but honestly, he knew he could use all the help he could get. Still, he wanted to preserve at least a little of his dignity. "Very funny," Tim said sarcastically, setting the laptop down on the kitchen counter.
"Start with ingredients," Marinette advised.
"What all goes into a chocolate chip cookie..?" mused Tim. He got out the flour, white and brown sugar, eggs, butter, vanilla extract, and three different types of chocolate chips that Alfred kept stocked.
Marinette raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"
Tim cast a wary gaze upon his ingredients. It didn't seem like enough, but at the same time he couldn't figure out what he was missing. Tim sighed. "I'm ready to use my hint. Tell me what I forgot."
"You forgot to get out the salt, and more importantly, the baking soda," advised Marinette.
"Can I have a second hint?" asked Tim as he gathered his two missing ingredients.
"That depends on what you're asking," teased Marinette.
"I'm going to start listing measurements, and you tell me if it's too much or not enough."
Marinette pretended to think it over before replying, "I'll do it, but only because I want the cookies to come out edible, not because we're friends or anything like that. There are no friends in the Dupain-Cheng kitchen," said Marinette, her voice filled with faux seriousness.
"Lucky for me, these cookies are being made in the Wayne kitchen, and we're all very nice here, and we don't let Tim burn his cookies."
Marinette giggled. "You have a point there," she acquiesced. "Start listing your measurements."
Tim grabbed the measuring cup and starting approximating. "Two cups flour?"
"That will make about five dozen cookies."
"One cup of each type of sugar?"
Marinette shook her head. "You'll want a 3/4 cup of each."
The rest of the measuring process proceeded smoothly, with Tim guessing measurements of fluctuating accuracy (he correctly guessed that he would need two eggs, but his guess of a half-cup of baking soda led to Marinette questioning whether he had ever been in a kitchen before).  Once Tim got the cookie dough mixed, spooned out onto a tray, and put in the oven, they resumed their game of truth-or-dare.
"Your turn, Marinette. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
Tim tried to think of a good question to ask. "Since you've now seen how abysmal I am in the kitchen, I want to know one thing that you're terrible at."
Marinette scrunched up her brow. "It's nowhere near as bad as you're inability to crack an egg-"
Tim winced a little, remembering the painstaking process of digging out fragments of eggshell after he completely shattered it in his attempts to crack it.
"-But I have really bad depth perception. I trip over every little crack in the sidewalk. I'm probably the clumsiest person you'll ever meet."
Tim chuckled. "And here I thought you were perfect."
Marinette grinned. "Almost perfect. Truth or dare?"
"I'll pick truth this time, and hopefully avoid being humiliated again."
"I'll go easy on you this round. When was the last time you lied, and what was it about?"
Tim combed back through his memory of the past week, trying to pick out the last time he lied. "I think it was yesterday morning. Dick asked me if the coffee I was drinking was my first coffee of the day. I said yes, but really I hadn't slept that night so I just decided to arbitrarily count my start of the day at the time I would have woken up had I actually gone to sleep."
"So how many coffee's had you had yesterday?"
Tim shrugged. "Since midnight? Probably three or four. I've gotten away with a lot more coffee since I modified the Keurig in my room to stop making so much noise."
"I'm lucky," said Marinette. "My parents sleep so far away from me that they can't hear my Keurig."
"Truth or dare?" asked Tim, continuing the game.
"Truth."
"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done because you had a crush on someone?"
Marinette flushed red, and Tim immediately knew that this was going to be a good story. "Once I accidentally sent a text to my crush so I stolehisphoneanddeletedthetext." Marinette rushed the last few words, so fast that Tim couldn't quite make them out.
"What was that?"
"I stole his phone and deleted the text before he could read it. In my defense, I made a lot of questionable decisions at that age."
Tim burst out laughing. "How old were you?"
"I was thirteen," admitted Marinette.
Tim couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity of her claims. "You couldn't have asked him to borrow his phone and deleted it then?"
"I was in panic mode. It was between steal his phone or destroy his phone."
"Those were your two options?!" exclaimed Tim.
Marinette blushed even more furiously. "It's your turn. Don't expect me to go easy on you this round. Truth or dare?"
Tim kept up the trend. "Truth."
"What was the worst thing you did at thirteen?"
Tim thought back to his days as Robin, and the many, many stories he could tell. In the end, he settled on one that Jason still brought up when he needed leverage over Tim. "It's not as bad as phone thievery, but it's still a pretty funny story, looking back on it. You know how I have two older brothers, right?"
"Dick and Jason," Marinette confirmed.
"Well, one night I managed to convince Dick to let me drive Bruce's favorite car. Now, keep in mind, I had never actually driven a car before. Surprisingly, I wasn't that bad at driving. I made it home without incident - that is, until I tried to park the car back in the garage and accidentally crashed into Jason's motorcycle. For years after that, Jason used the threat of telling Bruce about my little car crash to keep me in line."
Marinette snorted. "You think that borrowing a phone to delete a text message is worse than borrowing and crashing a car?"
Tim shrugged. "It's a matter of opinion. Truth or dare?"
With a roll of her eyes, Marinette said, "Truth."
"What's one thing you would never tell me?" It was the sort of question that could only be asked during a game of truth or dare. In Tim's opinion, it was this sort of question that made the game worth playing.
Marinette pouted. "I don't like that question."
"Too bad. The rules of truth or dare state that you have to answer it."
"Fine." Marinette looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Just as she turned back to face her laptop, her face lit up. It was evident that she had an answer. "Usually I let people learn from their mistakes in the kitchen. However, I will now tell you - because I have to - that your cookies have been in the oven for too long. They're going to start burning if you don't take them out soon."
Tim jumped up to get his cookies out of the oven. They looked a little burnt, brown rather than the golden-brown that Alfred would make, but they still looked edible. "I'll accept your answer, but only because you saved my cookies."
"Now that your cookies are done, do you want to finish up our game of truth or dare?"
"One last question," decided Tim. "And I'll pick truth, to make it easy for you."
"What's the biggest secret that you've currently keeping from your family?"
After Tim's last question, he had expected Marinette to follow it up with an invasive question. Luckily, her question had a very simple answer.
"Easy question - my friendship with you."
Marinette looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Most of my friendships begin through the connections they have to my family. Because of that, I've never really had serious friendships that my family wasn't actively involved in."
"It's not because you're ashamed of me, right?" Marinette sounded unsure of herself. Insecurity was a side of her that Tim had never seen before.
"Of course not," Tim assured her. "You're the best friend I could have ever asked for, Marinette."
"Good, because you're not getting rid of me that easy. I still have a lot to teach you about baking. I think we might try cupcakes at our next sleepover."
Tim laughed. "We'll see about that." He had no doubts that there would be sleepovers to come, and shenanigans involving baked goods to go along with them.
@maribatmarch-2k21
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breakfaststuffs · 4 years ago
Text
Fluctuations
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky x Reader!Powers
Warnings: Language
A/N: I blame @angrythingstarlight for inspiring me to start this...thing. I don’t know what it is but I have done it. Lurker turned whatever.
Please, do not copy, translate, rewrite or post my work even if you credit me.
----------
“Fuck,” you hissed as you scrambled up the 6th flight of stairs in a desperate bid to outrun your pursuers. As soon as your eyes had landed on that tell-tale skull and tentacle laden logo, you just knew that things would go sideways.
Even as your calves burned and begged for a rest, you hauled yourself up the last set of stairs and spilled out onto the roof with a gasp of exhaustion and you made a wobbly dash over to the fire escape. Making one last adjustment to the straps of your backpack, you felt reassured that the weight of the stolen goods were still nestled between your shoulders and reached for the ladder.
“You should probably just hand it over, you know,” a voice stated simply from above and, in all of his winged-glory, Captain America landed softly on the rooftop a few feet behind you. Another half-second later, the person you had been hauling ass from silently appeared to the left of Sam Wilson and you felt frozen to the spot as his sharp blue eyes trained in on your face.
A bead of sweat trickled down your neck and you just knew that the wig you had worked so hard to affix on top of your hair was now very obvious and askew. You let out a breath you did not know you had been holding and let the reality of your situation settle over your shoulders.
Grasping the straps a little tighter to summon up your courage, you took a few unsteady steps to the side to be clear of the fire escape and then turned to dive off the roof. You heard a rush of raised voices behind you and a shuffle of movement before the world turned into a dark blur rushing up to meet you.
“Fuck!” you yelp as you dropped.
----------
Life has never been easy for you and, after coming back from the blip, it had gotten insurmountably worse.
Before the blip, you had managed to find security in your work and in your own personal life. The design firm you worked at was lobbing more work for high priority clients your way and there were signs that your boyfriend was close to proposing. You wished that you could share your accomplishments with your parents, but the fates had decided to remove them from the equation 3 years earlier in a sudden clash of metal and rubber that had permanently left a part of your heart hollow and numb.
The moment your life shattered for a second time was right after you had completed your usual circuit run around the neighborhood to help burn off some of the extra energy that had built up with the excitement of your sister finally visiting you in the city. Your sister was an hour out from touchdown and as you chatted over the phone with your boyfriend about dinner plans for the evening a sudden shock of cold settled low in your belly. Whatever words were on your tongue faded and drifted into nothingness.
The next thing you knew was you were standing in the same spot on the sidewalk with a gasp and were immediately bowled over by a jogger who seemed just as shocked as you were. From there, the disorientation only grew as the ripples of the repercussions of having the returned trying to find normalcy in a world that had moved on grew into tidal waves.
It was bad enough that your apartment and belongings were lost, your boyfriend had married someone else and the company you were working for had since dissolved. The true horror came when you realized that your sister had been flying 30,000 feet above the ground the moment of the blip. You had screamed until your throat was raw and the tears had gone dry as you realized your world had ended.
Thanks to government assistance, you had a roof over your head, but you were adrift in your loss and felt directionless for the first couple of months after your return. It wasn’t until you had saddled up at a bar that was one of your father’s favorite drinking spots did a sliver of hope crept back into your life. 
As you took another long pull from your glass, a gentle weight landed on your shoulder and the barstool next to you was quickly occupied by a sharp-dressed man with a disarmingly soft smile.
“Hey, [Y/N]. Did not expect to see you here,” the stranger said with a chuckle as he raised his hand to flag down the bartender. 
“Oh, didn’t really expect me to be here, either. But, sorry, do I know you…?”, you questioned with a thread of wariness stitched in your words. It also didn’t help matters that single touch on the shoulder was the first human contact you’d had in weeks. Deep down, you felt another layer of despair settle in the back of your mind.
“Ah, sorry about that. You see, I knew your old man and he was never shy about showing off how proud he was of his daughters. But, [Y/N], he really did go on about how special you were.”
You couldn’t keep the watery smile from your lips as you extended out your hand to his for a shake. “Well, glad to make your acquaintance…,” you left the word hanging as his hand grasped your hand firmly in his.
“Michael,” he said with a chuckle as he gave the bartender a quick nod as a glass of whiskey slid his way, “Nice to be finally meeting you.” He dropped your hand and snatched up the glass to raise it up into the air in front of him. “Here’s to your father,” he spoke as he took a gulp of the amber liquid.
“Yeah, to my dad...and all those we’ve lost,” you toast and raised your own glass to your lips.
“So, since you’re here drinking at 2 o’clock on a Tuesday, I am guessing that things aren’t going that well for you,” Michael pointed out with a sympathetic smile. Looking around the bar, it was clear that the majority of the current patrons were either in the middle of drinking their sorrows away or well-past an attempt at redeeming themselves. You had to wonder where you landed on that depressing spectrum.
“That obvious, huh?”, you sighed as you took another sip of your drink. “Everything that I worked for is gone and I don’t know how to even remotely get back on track. Just trying to get out of bed with a plan makes my head spin most days.”
“Well maybe I can help you start on a new path, [Y/N]. You see, your father sure could put away his drink and he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut when he got too two sheets to the wind. Now, he sometimes did a few odd jobs here and there for me and my associates over the years and it was bound to happen that he would start talking about you…” his eyes slid over to lock onto yours as he gulped down the content of his glass and, without breaking eye contact, threw the bartender another sign for a refill.
You had been in the middle of taking a sip of your beer when he dropped his insinuating remark and you suddenly found yourself wide-eyed and choking on your beverage. You heard him give a chuckle as you desperately tried to recover from the surprise and you shot a glare in his direction.
“Oh, don’t give me that. I’m offering you a job opportunity that will land you enough money to build whatever future you want. I just wanted to let you know that your special skills make you a very appealing candidate.”, he said as he leaned over and gave you a few encouraging pats on the back.
Of course, the one person in her life that had ever discovered her abilities and swore to secrecy would have spilled the beans. She had fought so hard to hide that she was different and it wasn’t until her father had burst back in exclaiming he’d left the keys on the kitchen counter and found her lifting the couch easily with one had to pick up the remote at 16 did the secret get out. Once he had stopped gaping like a fish at her, the onslaught of questions and a never-ending stream of curiosity continuously poured down for years.
“How much did he say?,” you murmured bitterly.
“Enough to know that you can get the job done. Now, you weren’t the only one to take a few losses after coming back. Turns out a few of our properties fell out of our control while most of the family was gone. Word is that one of our old buildings downtown was hiding a bit of a secret in the basement that had managed to stay undiscovered until someone else started renovating our property.” Michael’s voice took on a bit of a hard edge as he wrapped up the last sentence.
“Seems like they are having a hard time getting inside, but we want to know what’s inside and for you to get anything valuable out for us. And that, my dear, is where you would come in.”
“Wait, why exactly do you need me? What is it that is stopping you from just walking in and taking it?”, you ask with words laced with suspicion.
“Your father always said you were clever.”, he smirked as he gave you a small toast in acknowledgement. “For whatever reason, we think the government might be interested in what is rightfully ours. Just in case they send in a more specialized cavalry, we figure it would be safest to send in one of our own.”
“Less collateral damage, yeah?”, you scoff as you finished off your pint.
“Exactly, [Y/N]. I knew you’d be smart enough to catch on. So, want to know how much you stand to make?”, he said with a knowing grin.
You took in a deep breath, set your empty glass on the bar and swiped a hand across your face in resignation. “Sure. What do I have to lose?”
“Nothing at all, kid. Nothing at all.”
----------
You let yourself free fall for a split second before you let your body’s density shift. You suddenly dropped down to the ground and, right before you would leave a crater in the pavement below, you made yourself as light as a feather. You almost landed daintily on one toe before you bolted towards an alley to your right. You were well aware that Captain America would almost immediately be airborne, but you were so close to a very noisy, pedestrian choked city thoroughfare two blocks over. 
Making sure you were light enough on your feet to gain a substantial amount of speed, you didn’t bother looking up or back as you booked it into the busy city street. Once in the throngs of people, you jerked off the wig you were wearing and shook out your hair with a grateful sigh. You unzipped your jacket to wrap it around your waist and then shifted the backpack to sit on the front of your chest. You hoped that it would be enough as you did your damnedest to nonchalantly make your way to the drop-off spot.
You kept waiting for the hammer (well, more like shield) to drop as you walked, but as time wore on nothing happened. By the time that you stepped in though the heavy double doors of a rather upscale restaurant and were led off to a separate dining room, you were almost in shock at how you had managed to get away with it. 
“Ah, [Y/N], our hero returns!” Michael proclaimed proudly as he stood up when you entered the room. He offered to take the backpack from you and wrapped his arm around you as he corralled you over to a table near the back window. Two more men were seated at the table and their auras were far-less boisterous than the man who gave your shoulders a warm squeeze before setting you down at the head of the table.
As he opened up your backpack and spread out the haul across the table, Michael gave a sharp whistle and the dour mood shared between the other men quickly dissipated. “Now these look rather impressive. Who would have known we were sitting on top of a secret stash of Hydra weapons all these years? I know this can’t be all of it. How much did you leave behind?”
You shrugged and you gave a gentle shake of your head at the question. “There wasn’t too much left, but there were at least two boxes I didn’t get a chance to go through before I heard someone coming. I was able to start running before they had a chance to realize I had broken the door down in the first place…” 
“Well, job well done. My associates and I are pleased with your work.” He flashed you a smile before reaching down into a briefcase to grab a couple of stacks of hundred dollar bills that he stuffed into your backpack. He walked over and dropped the backpack into your lap before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Let’s have a drink to [Y/N]’s success tonight and to our continued relationship.”
He gave your shoulders a tighter squeeze that was borderline painful as he spoke. You knew that you might be way in over your head, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. This was something different and it felt better than drowning in failure.
----------
The next day you found yourself actually happy to get out of bed. You damn near whistled as you brewed up a cup of coffee for yourself and you bothered to even clean yourself up for a change. When your eyes fell upon the backpack that sat upon your plywood table and you couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your lips. Things were finally looking up.
Taking stock at your lack of food in your apartment, you decided to grab a few of the bills out of the backpack and to head down to the local corner store that always had some amazing fresh produce out on display. With your stomach growling at the thought of food, you tucked the money into your back jean pocket and sauntered out the door.
You gave a quick wave to the owner as you grabbed a basket and started to peruse over in the direction of the fresh fruit. Spotting some jazz apples that were catching the morning light and your attention, you slid over to reach out and grab a few when your hand ended up grabbing at leather instead of an apple.
You blinked owlishly before jerking your head up to see who had blocked you from your potential breakfast. Any words you had died in your throat as your heart felt like it was seizing in your chest. A pair of steely blue eyes met yours and the expression in those orbs went from surprise then quickly morphed into something far more accusatory.
With your brain suddenly working overdrive and any rational thought flying out the window, you let out the breath you had been holding shakingly and brilliantly said the first thing that came to you.
“So, uh, come here often?”
Those eyes narrowed just a fraction more and you knew you were doomed.
----------
So, should I continue this or nah? This is my first...so please be gentle.
71 notes · View notes
adorehs · 4 years ago
Text
changing your tune
Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3
Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)
Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death. 
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“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out. 
Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”
You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.” 
“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?” 
You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school. 
Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them. 
The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth. 
Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day. 
Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece. 
He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career? 
Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body. 
You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note. 
Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now. 
Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.
Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes. 
He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought. 
“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.
You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.
“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.
You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant. 
“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”
“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it. 
“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning. 
//
After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends. 
It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was. 
But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.
And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You. 
You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.
Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved. 
“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.” 
Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”
You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”
Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”
“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate. 
Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.
You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her. 
You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration. 
You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one. 
Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control. 
“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering. 
“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm. 
“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?” 
“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”
You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”
“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again. 
“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”
He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”
“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought. 
“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”
“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”
“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.” 
You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.  
“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you. 
You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!” 
The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship. 
While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while. 
His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him. 
You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ‘I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower. 
Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people. 
You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts. 
Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants. 
Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd. 
“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group. 
You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.
He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.” 
“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back. 
Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds. 
“She always does,” you agree with Harry.
The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence. 
Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone. 
“So, uh,” Harry starts.
“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door. 
“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.
You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight. 
“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation. 
You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home. 
//
Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory. 
He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you. 
He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster. 
He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book. 
So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before. 
Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning. 
As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories. 
One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions. 
Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative. 
Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day. 
This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work. 
And that was difficult to accomplish. 
Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything. 
You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver. 
“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says. 
Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered. 
You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume. 
Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted. 
“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”
Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.
You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.
You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.
Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.
“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.
He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.
You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?
Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.
Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out. 
You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando. 
Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point. 
Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you. 
//
The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.
You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love. 
And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself. 
Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it. 
He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.
Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show. 
“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.
Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.” 
Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”
Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.
It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair. 
The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece. 
Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.
You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love. 
As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning. 
No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece. 
It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read. 
When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.
He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush. 
The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting. 
Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.
Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not. 
Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him. 
You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was. 
//
It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home. 
He was distraught to say the least. 
He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe. 
The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was. 
He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.
People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth. 
He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening. 
And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay. 
Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.
Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand. 
Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded. 
“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly. 
Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening. 
“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room. 
//
It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night. 
“Hi,” you answer softly. 
“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”
Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?” 
There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”
“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.
“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.
Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied. 
“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”
“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”
Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”
“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed. 
Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”
“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”
“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily. 
“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.
“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?
“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains. 
Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you. 
You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more. 
You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive. 
It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.
It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H
//
Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him. 
He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping. 
There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement. 
Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light. 
Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.
He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited. 
He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you. 
“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life. 
You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically. 
Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent. 
You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid. 
“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him. 
He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 
You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.
He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N. 
The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks. 
“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”
Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness. 
You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”
Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”
“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.
Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?” 
“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground. 
“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”
You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.
He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased. 
You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood. 
“Can I ask where we are going?” 
“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically. 
“You’re so annoying,” you reply. 
“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers. 
“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock. 
Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”
You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need. 
Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again. 
“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.
Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that. 
This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?” 
You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”
Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused. 
You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get. 
With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone. 
You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes. 
Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:
“Not nervous, just excited.”
Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be. 
You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards. 
You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.
He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you. 
You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”
Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out. 
You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him. 
“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor. 
You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt. 
“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately. 
“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude. 
“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt. 
“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.
You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief. 
He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor. 
You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim. 
“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”
You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly. 
He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot. 
It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass. 
“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out. 
“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint. 
“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house. 
You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out. 
You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body. 
Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin. 
You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean. 
Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning. 
You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him. 
“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments. 
“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this. 
He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives. 
Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night. 
You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder. 
“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words. 
“I needed a break.”
//
What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint. 
It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written. 
At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself. 
You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to. 
You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music. 
All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do. 
You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly. 
You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.
The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra. 
You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal. 
You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm. 
The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime. 
When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.
“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name. 
“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile. 
He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat. 
“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly. 
You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”
He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”
You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”
“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”
“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.
“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises. 
“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate. 
He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you. 
You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands. 
The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea. 
After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece. 
You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property. 
It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage. 
Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.
Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs. 
He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you. 
“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly. 
“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?” 
“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs. 
“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 
“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies. 
“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”
Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”
“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”
“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa. 
“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”
“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again. 
“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa. 
“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was. 
“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!” 
“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug. 
“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace. 
“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say. 
Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?” 
You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you. 
She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves. 
“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 
“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake. 
“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you. 
“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”
“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly. 
“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.
She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested. 
“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off. 
Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”
“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.
You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice. 
“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers. 
“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.
// 
It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust. 
Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide. 
It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath. 
There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together. 
When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met. 
She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table. 
Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.  
His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to. 
//
That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa. 
“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually. 
“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups. 
“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand. 
“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs. 
“A friend?” you ask confused. 
“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized. 
“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask. 
“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.  
You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”
Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”
“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”
“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly. 
You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa. 
//
It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production. 
This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production. 
You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him. 
It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first. 
“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked. 
“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply. 
“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly. 
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”
You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”
What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.
He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own. 
As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life. 
“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly. 
You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off. 
“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes. 
“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm. 
Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone. 
The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it. 
Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders. 
But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts. 
Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign. 
You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you. 
Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked. 
So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing. 
You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts. 
The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday. 
You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties. 
You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign. 
It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws. 
“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited. 
“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold. 
“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face. 
You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush. 
“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head. 
“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”
“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”
You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.
It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling. 
It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life. 
The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home. 
Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful. 
Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door. 
He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office. 
The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he  found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor. 
“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him. 
“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile. 
“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect. 
“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation. 
“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement. 
“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on. 
“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure. 
“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”
“No,” you reiterate firmly. 
“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room. 
He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers. 
“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request. 
Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin. 
“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly. 
“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth. 
“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”
Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.” 
You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”
“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.
“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief. 
“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile. 
“Yeah?” 
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Course.”
“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it. 
Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.
Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily. 
You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other. 
Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still. 
His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper. 
“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin. 
//
Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished. 
Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance. 
You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand. 
He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you. 
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips. 
Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance. 
“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you. 
Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you. 
You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on. 
You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?
Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.
Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night. 
Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.
Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him. 
“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.
“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”
“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”
“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly. 
You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse. 
Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.
The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe. 
You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity. 
“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.
“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”
“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments. 
You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.” 
Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like. 
The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile. 
Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you. 
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?” 
“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!” 
“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his. 
Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”
You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent. 
Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.
You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss. 
When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go. 
You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing. 
The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow. 
“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building. 
“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger. 
Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.” 
Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry. 
“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones. 
You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you. 
Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.
“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.
Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”
You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.” 
Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.” 
“What and you don’t care?” you tease. 
“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully. 
You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night. 
// 
It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself. 
Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door. 
Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together. 
He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble. 
You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”
Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”
You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?” 
Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.
Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well. 
Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back. 
He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit. 
You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.” 
“Well how lucky am I?” 
“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”
The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.
When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table. 
Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone. 
“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass. 
Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production. 
“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed. 
“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.
“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter. 
“Can we move on?” you call out.
Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.
You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you. 
You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra. 
When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter. 
He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.
Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his. 
Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other. 
“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you. 
“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply. 
Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”
“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile. 
“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle. 
“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”
“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”
467 notes · View notes
sassooda · 3 years ago
Text
Worlds Away / Chapter 40 - One in the Same 🔞
w/c - 6,476
               “Love…”.
As Satoru positions himself back on the bed with a heavy heart, he wonders how long he’ll be without her voice. Elska lies there unconscious, in her own queen-sized bed a few feet away from Naoya who is also in the same condition but in a separate bed. The room Satoru mentioned to everyone before has become their new quarters but with his own personal flare. The five walls are a deep blue-grey, the trim a dark red, all decorative furnishings either that same red or a bright light blue. The sheets both of the sleepers are wrapped in resemble the color of love. This was all designed and put together as a surprise but things haven’t exactly gone as planned.
               As he situates himself next to her, Gojo finds that he desires the comfort of her heartbeat. Laying his head on her chest, he relives the horrors of when he and Choso arrived to find them. He’s weighted with guilt, having become too distracted by his mother to focus that day. ‘What did they have to go through?’, he can only imagine having seen the scene himself. Although he wasn’t particularly bothered by the gore, Choso’s reaction said it all as normal people would easily have been mortified. Gojo’s heart also sinks from the sin of dealing with the woman who gave birth to him, even if she was monstrous herself.
               “My love…”, his voice is broken from emotion as he whispers to her caringly, “Please come back to me.”. He’s been informed by Nanami and the others that Toji once found her in this same state, taking 6 days to wake up previously. This information doesn’t comfort him however after perceiving the devastation her, Naoya and Toji must have experienced. ‘…and we still haven’t found him yet.’. Satoru knows for a fact that if she wasn’t mentally compromised from the attack, not having Toji will certainly destroy her.
               He positions her arms to lay over him, as if she’s wrapping them around his own. Gojo is still reeling from his own experiences that day on top of everything else. The heartache that dwells within him after killing his mother plagues him as if she still existed, only differently. “Love, I didn’t know it would hurt.”. A tear spills from each of his darkened eyes, remembering the vexation that woman caused him for his entire life. There certainly wasn’t any love lost between them but a piece of him died with her and he can’t explain why. In this moment, he only needs to be held by his love. As he listens to the rhythm in which her heart pumps, he feels like he’s brought to a point of necessary, although temporary ease. Bringing her even closer lowers him deeper into security, feeling safe and nurtured by her touch alone. Her and Naoya have only been out for roughly 18 hours at this point, leaving him to also dread how much time he’ll be without her.
               **KNOCK, KNOCK**
               Without moving at all, Satoru calls for them to enter and sighs as he feels close to losing his composure. He decides to not hide his despair for lack of current ability.
               Choso quietly strolls in and takes in Satoru’s depression. He’s apprehensive about how unstable Gojo’s been since coming back to the academy but appreciates how much the man is going through. A slight grin appears across Choso’s face though as he looks over Gojo’s clothes, they’re both wearing their group-matching pajamas. Upon approaching Naoya, Choso pulls back the covers to further evaluate him, wanting to be sure all wounds were healed. He says to his friend, “You are one fortunate man…”, and pulls the sheets up with a smile. He then takes Naoya’s hand with relief on mind, understanding that Naoya will likely be happy at the fact that he was turned. Choso has reservations about this but they’re not strong enough for him to speak on.
               Megumi now enters and walks straight over to Elska, on the opposite side from Gojo. He’s still in a state of shock after being filled in on the aftermath. He’s in a foul disposition not knowing where Toji is and is even further upset with how messed her and Naoya looked upon being retrieved. When he reaches out to take up Elska’s hand, his is swatted away, causing him to lower deeper into his anger.
               “Leave her alone.”, Gojo growls from Elska’s chest. He immediately feels bad for snapping at Megumi but that was the only warning he was capable of. The hurt displayed on his former student’s face that he catches out of the corner of his eyes prompts him to sit up a little. “I’m sorry Megs, I just… she’s mine.”.
               Megumi is feeling disheartened by his current fears on his father’s whereabouts and feels almost completely alone as he drowns in his thoughts. The territorial stance made on Elska causes him to snap, “She is her own person, you’re fucking delusional!”. As his breath catches in his throat, he waits for Satoru to respond maliciously but becomes confused when he doesn’t. ‘I just want to make sure she’s ok…’.
               Choso walks over to Megumi and speaks with purpose, “Please let Gojo have time with her, he’s been through a lot…”, and nods as if to reiterate there still are things Megumi is unaware of. Choso sees the discontent on Megumi’s face and can feel the boy’s presence fluctuating so he continues, “And we will find Toji, I promise you. He loves you, you know…”. He watches Megumi’s eyes become glossy as he tries to fend off the tears so Choso hugs him. “I’m sure he’s ok, we just have to get to him…”.
               Megumi usually wouldn’t accept the embrace but he feels so incredibly small and useless. He finds Choso’s need to comfort him endearing and wishes he’d been kinder to the being in the past, knowing now how well he means. “I…I miss my dad…”, he meant for it to be a statement but the clarification is muddled by the sorrow in his voice and it only strengthens as Choso continues to try and soothe him.
               “Just come back later Megs…I know you’re worried too…”, Satoru doesn’t make eye contact but his voice is genuine. “I just need to be with her right now…”. He now curls back up into Elska and sighs deeply. “She would be angry if I kept everyone from her…”, and Satoru knows this is a fact but is still not budging on the current meeting.
               Megumi wasn’t expecting Gojo to offer time up so he doesn’t know how to respond. With a fake scoff he replies, “I will then.”, and heads towards the door. Before leaving he stops and turns around to face them once more, “Shoko is awake now and she wants to see you Gojo.”, then shuts it behind him.
               Satoru is aware that they have a prisoner underneath the school and Shoko likely has important information to give to him, he just hasn’t the motivation to move. He buries his face into Elska further, wanting to escape his current duties and pretend they’re just napping together. “Please come back.”.
               After a few seconds, Choso exhales, “I’m glad Shoko’s alright.”. After being teleported to Elska’s location, he had to carry her back through his portal while Gojo grabbed Naoya. Choso immediately began to heal Naoya after they returned to the academy but they were soon met with Nanami who requested him to see to Shoko’s head injuries as well. Choso recalls that while he was navigating through his shadow realm that Elska’s energy once again lingered behind them and even seemed to stain some of the surroundings. He’s always been curious as to why hers behaves differently than everyone else. While lost in his thoughts, he’s jolted back to the present as Gojo begins to cry next to Elska.
               “Gojo…”, Choso was caught off guard but feels he needs to allow privacy as he doesn’t know what to do. The terrifying Silver Shaman condenses before him, leaving a new wave of misery within his very being. Choso’s still shaken up by the events that took place with everyone and has yet to properly deal with the emotions flowing through him. He glances over to Naoya for a second and then internally declares he will return later. He hears Gojo plead for him to wait so he turns around and utilizes patience as Satoru collects himself.
               “We…We have to find Toji.”, Satoru finds himself worried with the possibilities that could be his friend’s fate. Choso nods so he says, “Please, please search for him.”. Gojo looks down at Elska who has yet to show signs of waking, “For both of their sakes, we need to get him back.”. Now darting cold eyes to back to Choso, “I will kill whoever I need to. I will fucking explode every last one of them. This is what they deserve.”. Satoru’s eyes narrow as he thinks of who this Genghis is and how that man is likely responsible for organizing the horrific event. ‘He at least helped Getou…’.
               Choso felt a chill crawl down his spine while listening to Gojo. ‘He very well means it.’, crosses his mind but he’s actually reinforced by the statement because he has his own revenge that occupies the same goal. He straightens himself while looking at Satoru, “We will find them and we will end them.”. Choso now brings his gaze to Elska for the first time and finds his dark thoughts fading, beginning to feel consumed by irrational emotions that stem from her condition as well. He has this completely visceral knot that tells him to remain near her but he can’t justify why so he thinks its best not go far at least. “I’m going to try some mapping but I’ll be nearby if needed…”, Choso now reluctantly opens the door and leaves.
               Snuggling back into Elska, Satoru closes his eyes and tries to steady his breathing. “Everything’s so fucked up, love.”, he regretfully informs her as she sleeps. Wanting to be even closer to her, he now takes her right leg and hoists it over himself. He pulls down the front of her slip but only so he can her skin against his cheek. “They will pay for this…”, he seethes as he thinks about the new trauma her and Naoya had to live through at the hands of the Titers. “Genghis and Getou…”, his partnered enemies. He opens his eyes to slight movement. “Love?”. Slowly she begins to stir more, moving her legs and arms to in an attempt to regain awareness. Satoru hurriedly sits up and looks down to her with endearing hope.
               Elska is coming to already and smiles sweetly once she opens her eyes to see Satoru. “My sweet Sati…”, she raises her arm to hold his cheek, only now detecting his anxieties. This realization triggers her though as the ominous memories play back in her mind. She instantly screams at the top of her lungs and is sent into a hysterical state once again. She doesn’t know that she’s flailing around during this until she feels Satoru anchor his body around her to prevent her from harming herself. She struggles against him though as she continues to wail. “THE CHILDREN!”, rips through the room and Satoru understands kids must have been present in the attack.
               Satoru whimpers regrettably and holds her while her heart breaks. As her cries echo the otherwise silent room, he feels his heart responding, “My love, I’m so sorry…”. He rests his chin above her head as she begins to settle, although her sobs are still incredibly fierce. Her breath can be felt against his chest and neck as she heaves air in this dismantled state. He squeezes her tighter and reminds her, “I’m here love, I’m here. You’re safe now…”. He begins to tear up too as her voice goes silent and strains to make a high-pitched, fading squeak, the fact that she’s as broken as he assumed absolutely wrecking his confidence on the matter but he repeats, “You’re safe now.”, and kisses the top of her head. Satoru notices how strong her presence is and thinks that the whole campus should be aware of her waking.
               Choso heard and felt her so he runs back into the room. “ELSKA!”, he continues his pace to the side of the bed where Megumi was and sits down. The sounds that leave her compel him to place a hand on her side as she’s still overlapped by Gojo. She seems to respond to him and calms down slightly but with wide and teary eyes he looks to Gojo who’s just as unnerved by the situation. He hears her say, “They made Toji…kill. They crushed…Getou…he crushed the children…”, and to these words, a tear falls from the beings face. ‘Getou has no qualms with killing innocents…’, but he keeps this information to himself while deciding he should share the tragedy of his brothers eventually.
               Elska is slowly comprehending that the horrible sights behind her eyes are of the past but is still riddled with mourning. Understanding that the men have no idea of what all happened she forces herself to compose the best she can and tries to sit up. Satoru only took a second to understand so he is soon helping her. She remembers everything from the attack, which is different than how it’s happened in the past. With weary and swollen eyes, she looks at the two before her and says, “They tried to kill Naoya…”, she glances between Satoru and Choso, “His heart actually stopped.”, the fear of her prince dying reclaims its stance. “He blocked the spear meant for me…”, she looks over and sees him there laying motionlessly and begins to panic.
               Choso can see her apprehension as her eyes drift to Naoya and says, “He’s right there Elska”, and grabs her hand as he can only imagine how awful that was, “He is stable and with new energy.”. Her eyes light up but then become watery again as she quietly speaks, “But they took Toji with t…them couldn’t protect both…”, and feels his lips quiver as she deteriorates before them again. Choso’s hand is now on her leg so he brushes the spot to provide additional security. “Knowing that helps, I will find him Elska.”.
               Satoru feels Megumi and Itadori approaching the room so he yells, “NOT RIGHT NOW!”, and becomes satisfied when they stop. Looking back to Elska he grabs her shoulders and kisses her forehead, “Love I am going to fix all of this.”. He lifts her chin to him and with complete determination radiating from his eyes, “Everything is going to be ok. I will show no mercy.”, and she seems to be consoled by the darkness exuding him. He kisses her cheek and whispers, “We will paint the city with their blood.”.
               Elska feels like his dark nature is nurturing her very soul. In a strange wave of reassurance, the calamity within her lessens so she finally begins to settle into him. While closing her eyes and taking a deep but jagged breath however, the familiar voice ricochets through her.
               ‘FEED FROM THE HYBRID’
               Her eyes jolt open and she slowly turns her head towards Choso who’s still sympathetically rubbing her leg. She questions if she should but understands there is a reason she’s being prompted to do so.
               ‘YOU WILL SOON BE WHOLE’
               With a mousey voice, “Sati?”, she feels through his chest, his “Yes my love?”, and pulls away from him, “I need to feed from Choso.”.
               “I don’t think that’s a good idea love, why would you say that?”, Satoru is afraid that she will repeat history and is adamant about making things better not worse. He looks over to Choso who shares his reluctance and eyes him in a way to warn that it isn’t going to happen. “Love what if you lose control?”, he doesn’t understand what she could be thinking but fears it doesn’t matter as her eyes begin to glow. “Love…”.
               Elska adjusts herself to her knees and holds her own body, “I think the other me is me.”. When she looks up to them both she can tell they’re confused by that but she proceeds, “I have to do it.”. She launches herself over top Choso and pins his arms down, “Choso I’m so sorry!”. She sees that Satoru has warped to that side of the bed in an attempt to reach her so she growls. He seems to be hurt by this so she adds, “JUST TRUST ME!”, and feels less anxious as he slowly pulls his hands away from her.
               Choso’s in shock beneath her, not being sure as to why this is happening or if he should fight her or not. He darts his scared eyes to Gojo fearing that this won’t go over well but is confused as the Silver Shaman seems to retract. He now looks at Elska and can tell she’s not liking how she placed him in this position and suddenly feels at ease. ‘Was this why I wanted to stay?’. He nods to her and lays back down into the bed as her fangs pierce him shortly afterwards. Choso instantly moans and latches onto her, feeling one of his bent legs touching the floor kick out reflexively. She whimpers near his ear and it causes him to melt in place while she pulls from him. After a few seconds her left hand laces into his hair and grips the strands to pull his head more to the side, him closing his eyes and complying. She soon is grinding against him, exuding pleasurable noises which would have been his main focus if her presence wasn’t darkening so rapidly.
               Gojo is cautiously monitoring the situation and feels he should stop it when her gestures turn sexual. Hearing her moan seductively into Choso leaves a bad taste in his mouth but remembers he chose to trust her. He knows this is the other Elska now but her words haunt him, “I think the other me is me.”, bringing him into a new state of contradiction as he thinks about how he’ll handle this if shit hits the fan. As he watches her free hand sail from Choso’s chest to underneath her he can’t help himself, “LOVE!”.
               Elska grabs Choso’s member and squeezes it. She hears him quietly yelp and hums to his growing as she begins to fondle him further but eventually stops and closes the being’s puncture marks. ‘FOCUS’.  Sitting herself over him she inhales deeply before looking down, “It’s incredible, how arousing your blood is…”, and manically looks down to his flushed expression, “…but it makes sense.”. She can tell Satoru reaching out behind her so she quickly grabs his wrist and flings him overhead and onto the bed next to Choso. She relishes in the shaman’s surprise to her strength and chooses to say in the lowly voice, “My favorite human…”, and grinds on Choso again instinctively, meaning the gesticulation for Satoru. Before either of them can say anything she continues, “She is right, we are one in the same…”. Still feeling overcome with desire she takes Satoru’s left hand and forces it upon her breast and whimpers when he grabs it. ‘FOCUS’, cascading through her mind. “They took my beloved but I believe they were meaning for me. I became too confident and played with the Titers, I was having fun.”. She feels the anger race across her expression as the failure surges within her again. “When the mind was repressed, we split into two in order to salvage as much as possible.”, she looks to Satoru with devious eyes, “We would’ve slowly gone mad otherwise.”. Neither of them are speaking, giving her the floor so she turns her glowing gaze to Choso, “You and I are almost exact in product, we were just born differently…I am half curse as well.”.
               Choso’s eyes widen to this immensely as many pieces fall into place. Her energy that lingers, her ability to sense the darkness within him, the fact that his blood fuels her. He breaks his gaze with Elska to turn to Satoru who seems to be thinking but isn’t overly sharing his true feelings on the matter. Her presence increases rapidly again so he quickly looks back to her and becomes afraid as she licks her lips at him. She says, “If Sati wasn’t here, I’d take you right now…”, and he feels her hand caress the side of his face but holds his breath not knowing what that exactly meant. ‘Does she mean…’, and looks down at his lap as she sinks her weight into him. He cries out, “Elska NO!”, but feels himself being pinned by her again.
               “Elska…”, Satoru is not sure as to what is going on but knows he should tread lightly with his disgust of her harboring secret desires for Choso. She looks to him expressionlessly but the attention was enough, “…Love, I’m sorry for doing this to you.”, he feels the shame in his heart and almost as if she could read his mind she says, “This was a war waged far before you were born sweet Sati. My ancestors and those of the Zenin and Titer clans started this centuries ago. A tragic love story…”. While still remaining her eyes on Satoru, “A Zenin once loved a woman from the Oda clan but their union was rejected for her clan’s lack of status. Oda’s were not inherently shaman and suffered in servitude to the major clans for this and many other reasons. An intelligent and unusually empathetic curse heard their plight and decided to offer them a deal. The Oda’s would evolve, allowing them capabilities of harnessing cursed energy. The heartbroken woman accepted without understanding what would be waged allowing the curse to manifest itself into fragments to take form in every Oda. The Titers, who were then one of the major clans, saw this as a threat and manipulated the time continuum to relocate the Oda’s to a place where they would not have to fear their dark powers.” She exhales, “The curse’s stipulations were for the Oda’s to end humanity by turning them into similar but lesser beings which would eventually allow the curse to take physical form once again.”. Gojo is left in awe by this explanation. ‘A Zenin?’, and turns his head to Naoya and contemplates on the unexplainable connection Elska and Naoya have always had. He realizes something and tells her, “The Zenin’s want you apart of their clan this time…”, his eyes unfasten completely, “…The Titers do too now.”, he thinks of his mother’s words that confirmed they want to breed with her.
“Yes but they foolishly misunderstand their place. The Titers never have and never will be able to control me. Their thoughts otherwise on this are contrived.”. Elska now thinks of Suguru. “I drank from Getou and learned a great deal, he’s merely their powerful puppet. I believe I placed enough doubt in his mind though, if he’s worth anything he will realize his own will.”. Choso and Gojo both wear expressions of mortification that she ignores, “If he ends up agreeing with his clan then I’ll be forced to act however.”, She grins frenziedly, “They do not properly comprehend that their fate rests on my whims.” Her eerie smile fades, “What they’ve done however, I will require lives to pay for it.”. She looks over to Naoya and winces to the reminder that he suffered greatly, “My prince will soon awaken. His DNA synthesis rapidly took course and it was unlike anything we’ve ever seen…”. Merely gazing upon her blonde lover quells her strength, “He has an adverse effect on my existence, he drains me of my ability to stay in this form…”, she looks back to Choso, “…which is why I need to become whole. You can make this possible.”.
Gojo is trying to make sense of this new information and is categorizing his brain for this purpose. When her eyes meet his own again she grins and says, “I will have you too when the time is right. You’re a variable in all of this, the Gojo’s have never had a turned amongst their ranks and with your innate power, I am hesitant to expose you to this needlessly. In theory I will be your master but your soul particularly is already so darkened that I am forced to question what your nature will be.”. Satoru has never discussed becoming like her but a small part of his heart is mended knowing that he’s not left out of her collection. “Love, I would be willing if you saw fit.”, he removes his hand from her breast and brings it to her face. She seems to like being addressed this way which cements the fact for him that they really both are Elska. ‘She refers to me as Sati too.’.
               Elska abruptly dips back down into Choso’s neck and bites him again. His cursed blood reanimates through her veins and feels herself growing even stronger. The thought of wiping out the Titers and rescuing her beloved mix with the sensations the being gives her causing her to moan deeply. She feels him growing more underneath her again and smiles into him and wishes that she didn’t need his permission to turn him.
               ‘HE IS NOT READY YET’
               Despite her current ecstasy, she yanks her head up and huffs with annoyance before closing the wounds. “Sometimes I grow fucking tired of your voice.”.
               ‘Who is she talking to?’, Choso feels his brow furrow as he recalls the other times she seemed to speak to no one. He’s reading that she’s now agitated and wonders if he shouldn’t make a break for it soon. He thinks about Naoya and Toji, how they would be losing their shit if they were witnessing this and doesn’t want to be at the receiving end of Gojo’s wrath either.
               “You need not run…”, Elska sighs to the obvious hesitation from Choso and maneuvers herself off of him and stands. “I will not turn either of you right now for our efforts should be placed into retrieving my beloved.”. Gojo warps behind her and spins her around and she feels his arms embrace her. With confusion she asks, “Do you not fear me, Sati?”.
               Satoru chuckles into her hair, “Oh I fear you…I just love you as well.”, and is surprised when this dark Elska relaxes into him. ‘She loves monsters because she is one too…’. He knows this thought would likely terrify anyone else but he feels a new bond has been created between them in this moment and reminds her, “I know you feared me but you also never let me go.”. He inhales her scent begins to sway them, “You’re my love.”. He wonders as well who she meant that random statement to but doesn’t feel the need to press her for more information as he’s still working through what was just laid out.
               Being so close to Satoru, feeling his body heat and breath brings Elska back to her arousal she’s been fighting for the sake of communication. She bites his chest through his shirt and rakes her nails down his back as he whimpers. She can taste his own excitement and decides that enough was said.
               Gojo feels himself being pushed onto the bed and watches Choso jump up to standing. Elska straddles him and tears her slip open before glaring down and demanding, “Remove your shirt.”. He hastily does as he’s told while admiring how frightening her mannerisms are. When she leans down to kiss him, she lifts her weight from his lap and growls, “Your clothing is still in the way.”, to which he shimmies the waistband to his thighs, allowing his hardened flesh to make contact with her bare skin. He quickly finds Choso who is standing a few feet away with his jaw slacked open, “Cho-…”, she covers his lips and aligns herself with Satoru’s erection and says, “Do not concern yourself with him whilst I fuck you.”. He then feels her wet warmth slide down his shaft and groans loudly into her palm as she felt amazing. She pins his arms over his head against the mattress and proceeds to thrust herself into him passionately. When she gasps to using him, he feels a long-forgotten desire to tame her. Suddenly Gojo experiences his own switch as she continues to bounce herself on him. He breaks an arm free and sends his hand to her throat, squeezing it as he pulls her face down to his. When she bites her lip with arrogant eyes, he understands that she’s hoping he’ll fight back for dominance and whispers into her lips, “I will have you begging me to stop.”.
               Elska grins to the confirmation but all of the sudden finds Satoru is no longer below her. “Try your best, you will not break me.”, she teases in her lowly voice as she recognizes his presence behind her. She hears Gojo say, “Choso, find me something to tie her up with.”. She looks to Choso who seems to not understand why so she smiles, “Do as he says.”. Satoru now wraps a hand around her throat again and pulls her back to where she’s on her knees and feels his erection rubbing against her. She tries to angle herself so she could feel him again but fails. She huffs disapprovingly but is soon met with his grith spreading her, leaving her crying out in lust. He leans down by her ear while he seats himself completely, “Love, is that what you wanted?”, and snickers as he rams her a few times.
               Choso is finding the request made of him to be completely outlandish. ‘She shouldn’t be tied up!’, he now hears Satoru thrusting into her and feels uncomfortable with witnessing it in person. What he cannot ignore though is his own throbbing while he scurries to find anything that can be used for restraints. While searching through the drawers he comes across a scarf and quickly throws it over to Gojo without looking at them. His eyes take to Naoya in the other bed and he frowns to the situation at hand but knows there’s nothing he can really do to stop Elska. It was clear to him that she initiated and wanted to further down this adventure with Satoru. He looks over to them finally and looses his breath as he’s met with her alluring eyes. ‘Does she want me to stay?’, he questions internally hoping he was wrong. “Elska?”, he asks in a small voice, becoming mesmerized with how she’s staring into him.
               Gojo pushes Elska down into the bed and brings her arms to fold neatly behind her back. “Like old times…”, he teases wantonly as he secures the scarf around her forearms and wrists. He nudges her body forward so he can sit on his knees behind her and admires her body as he postures himself over her legs. With his left hand he grabs himself up to rub into her folds, moaning to the visible evidence that he’s going to be able to go wild. He notices Choso run out of the room and chuckles while gliding into her fully, “I guess he didn’t want to watch. Smart move.”, and begins pound into her relentlessly as she moans into the sheets. He grabs her throat again with his right hand to pull her back towards him and says, “That’s right love, you will take this dick and you will fucking like it.”, and slaps her ass with his left. “I am going to conquer you all over again…”, he hisses as he pulls on her waist to make sure there’s not a single inch of him missing out. She cries out, “YES!”, which causes him to tighten his grasp on her throat from the rush it sent through him while he delivers deep thrusts. He whimpers to how she feels contracting around him and takes notice to her body’s response as he continues through her orgasm. “Already, huh?”, the accomplishment fills him with pride and he expresses it by still crashing into her as she falls apart.  After a harsh few minutes, he slows down in an attempt to caress her internally. “Mmmm…”, he hums to how slippery her walls have become as she pants in front of him. “Perhaps my love wants to be controlled?”, he slaps her rear again with his left hand before regaining his grip on her hip. She lowly gasps, “Please try!”, which makes him say, “I am going to destroy you…”. He decides to warp in front of her and watches her body fall into the mattress. He grabs her hair and assists her in lifting her head while tilting his chin to the side and mocking, “The scary little Elska…”, she opens her mouth so he sends himself down her throat, “…gagging on my dick.”. He works his hips into her as expected tears roll down her face. When he removes himself to allow her air, he sighs to her saliva coating her breasts, causing them to glisten every so often. To his surprise she seductively moans and challenges, “Is that all you’ve got?”, which causes him to grunt as he traces her lips with his tip. He replies, “You should know me better than that.”, and proceeds to thrust into her mouth again. When she chokes on him, he throws his head back and furrows his brow while gasping, “My sexy little Elska…”.
               Feeling his grip in her hair as he harshly stretches her throat fills her with exhilaration. There are reasons as to why he is so special to her and this depravity he harbors is one of them since it mirrors a part of her nature. She looks up to him the best she can as her muscles convulse to his motions and loves the dominating way in which he treats her. ‘Nobody has ever been so brave.’, she thinks as she gags. He removes himself from her mouth again but drags his member along her face which makes her whimper with anticipation. He says, “I can’t finish until I’ve opened everything.”, and she shivers to his voice as it was chilling, knowing he’s going to take her in every way he can. He warps behind her again but is maneuvering her to lay on her left side. She tries to adjust in a way that makes her arms more comfortable but he slaps her thigh and says, “Don’t squirm now love, it’s too late for that.”.
               Satoru bends her legs up towards her chest so he could have unobstructed access. Spreading his kneeing stance, he leans over her to grab her throat again while he begins to nudge her second entrance. “You are mine to fuck and so is this ass.”, and groans down to her as he feels himself slowly making progress. He loves how her face morphs into pleasure the deeper he goes and wonders, ‘Has she liked this all along?’, but is soon taken out of thought as she gasps to being further parted. He releases her throat to lean back and stabilize himself with her hip, wanting to watch himself submerge into her. “Look at you love, taking me so well…”, she cries out heatedly and he bites his lip as he backs out to start the process over. He drops some of his own saliva down where they meet and works himself in deeper, becoming completely swallowed by her. “Such a good girl…”, he breathlessly whines as their eyes meet. “…Take it all…”, and begins to set a rhythm. As he increases his force she cries out “YES SATI”, and smiles with parted lips as she’s forced to endure him. He’s watching her skin ripple and wave out from his impact and it nearly makes him come undone having the knowledge that she’s enjoying this. He pulls out of her to take in the sight of her mess and rolls her onto her stomach. After making his way back in, he leans his body to hover over hers while he continues to pound through her.
               Elska is completely under his control but is rather thrilled by how rough he is being. Through her moans she tries to tell him that it’s coming but before she can, the pheromones release into the room. She turns her head and sees Satoru’s face next to hers as he fills his lungs and moans, his motions halting while he does. She hears him say, “You must love it when I fuck you like this…”, and picks up his pace again. While gasping she’s able to say, “I want more!”, and her eyes roll back when gives her exactly that. She can tell by his breathing that he’s nearing his end so she arches her back underneath him as if to present she was ready to be a pretty display. His thrusts after that became full and deep with each stroke until she feels him twitch and begin to settle. He opens her legs to guide her onto her back while remaining inside of her. The look on his face is breathtaking and she can sense his relief as he slowly nudges through her a few more times.
               While holding her ankles and leaning his hips into her, he brings his gaze from her face to where they’re connected and grunts to how pleasing the sight is. He leans down to kiss her feverishly as he comes to terms with his affections for Elska as a whole and says, “I love all sides of you…”, into her lips. He leans back up so he can watch his contents spill from her after he pulls out and moans when it’s even more beautiful than he imagined. Rolling her back onto her stomach he reaches down to undo her binds and finds their lips meeting as soon as she was free.
               She slides her tongue into his mouth passionately and they moan into each other again. When she breaks away she says in her lowly voice, “I don’t have much time left like this but one day I will be whole. Let’s see if you can overpower me then.”, and brushes her thumbs across his cheeks. “I will be a blend of all attributes but I can promise I’ll want more of this.”. Her eyes feel heavy now as she feels her state diminishing, “I will have to sleep again but I will return to normal when I wake. Will you…”, she hesitates, “…will you bring me to sleep next to Naoya?”. She’s taken back by his kind smile as he lifts her up into his arms. They sway as he uses his knees to bring them to the edge of the bed and they nearly fall over as he works to swing his legs out to the floor.
               They laugh together as he awkwardly finds his balance but he feels her sincerity as he walks them over to Naoya. “You can rest easy love and I’ll clean you up…”, he tells her as he lowers her down next to the sleeping Zenin. Her eyes are quickly losing their glow as she lays there and wraps her arms around Naoya’s left one, so he knows she’s going to be out here soon. “Love?”, she brings her hazy gaze to him, “We will find Toji, I swear it’s my priority.”. She smiles and thanks him before saying, “I’m glad to know he’s important to you as well Sati. Please, locate my beloved…he needs me…”. While he was forming his next words she closes her eyes and falls asleep instantaneously. “Love, I will make this world work for you…”, and leans down to kiss her once more. He stands upright again to find something to wash their wonderful experience with. After wiping her down he crawls in the bed and uses the slightest bit of space given to make his own spot, wanting to be next to her. He ponders on what she said earlier about the curse’s will to replace humanity and smiles into her neck, “I don’t much care for humans either…whatever your endgame is, we will succeed.”.
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aspecpplarebeautiful · 3 years ago
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hello! im not sure if im asexual because sometimes im okay with and even enthusiastic about sexual attraction but also? sometimes I’ll think about sex and immediately cringe or feel completely indifferent?? im not sure what’s happening and im hesitant to choose a label. is there a word for this?
So there isn't really a clear distinct line where one side is asexuality and the other allosexuality. There are gray areas but also some subjectivity to it too. So whether you're asexual or not depends a lot on you and if you feel that label would be useful, or if you feel like allosexuality is not fitting you right as a label.
So the definition I like to give for people who are questioning if they're ace is someone who doesn't experience the full range of sexual orientation the way an allosexual person is expected to experience it. Or someone who relates to other asexuals/the asexual community or finds the asexual label useful. So all that is to say asexuality is actually a very broad umbrella term for a lot of different experiences, and not experiencing sexual attraction is only one reason to identify as asexual, but definitely not the only reason.
So it's hard to say exactly what may be going on just from this ask, but I can definitely give you some things to look into.
Sex repulsion may be why you sometimes feel cringe, and sex repulsion is basically negative feelings that will pop up during certain sexual situations (common ones are things like revulsion, nausea, irritability, anxiety, discomfort, etc.). It's an extremely variable thing, so it's entirely possible it will show up in relation to some sexual situations but not others. (For example some people find that how close or distant they are may affect if they experience sex repulsion, and it can be better or worse for either.) It can also be very inconsistent, so for some people it may be there sometimes, but other times during the same type of situations it may be gone. Basically repulsion follows it's own rules, and for some people those rules are consistent and for some they aren't.
Being sometimes indifferent and sometimes not could point to some type of fluidity or fluctuating orientation. Aceflux could be a label that may be worth looking into. And basically just means someone who's orientation can fluctuate but is generally on the ace spectrum (though some aceflux people are allosexual sometimes). If you feel like you're not on the ace spectrum enough for aceflux to feel right for you, abrosexual is another similar label that means a fluctuating orientation.
Another possibility could be both sex drive and sexual desire can fluctuate for some people or be inconsistent. Sex drive is how much or how often you want a sexual release. Sexual desire is similar to sexual attraction, except it's not directed at any particular person. It's just a general craving to have sex. So either of those being really low can also lead to someone feeling indifferent to sex.
So maybe hopefully that gives you some things to look into. I really recommend the LGBTA Wiki as a good starting point for looking up terms or labels, and it's pretty comprehensive.
Looking into ace spaces can be really useful too for trying to determine if asexual is a good label for you or not. And sometimes reading about other people's experiences, especially if they have similar experiences to you can be really useful. And you can do that anywhere, but if you're not sure where to look Carnival of Aces can be interesting. Tumblr tags can be good too, especially if you look at the more specific ones like aceflux, you can find interesting posts.
And yeah it just comes down to what feels right for you and if you feel like asexual would be useful for you. And don't be afraid of a wrong answer, or to try on a label to see if it fits if that's what feels right for you. It could be something like gray-ace or ace-spectrum may be useful too if asexual if feels like it's a bit too strong. And gray-ace is an asexual community identity that just means that gray area between asexual and allosexual, and ace-spec is an umbrella term for the entire asexual community and all its identities.
And don't feel like you have to have this figured out right away, some people get lightbulb moments, but often people need time to think and reflect when it comes to figuring out labels and identity. And there's definitely no timeline.
All the best, Anon!
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