#i scheduled this because now im off to finals week HAHHA rip

[7cypher]

Tied Together | 02

The last thing you needed when you had a demanding daughter and job was a divorce made difficult by your husband. Luckily for you, Min Yoongi—Seoul’s top divorce lawyer—stepped in to save the day. Well, more or less.

▸ PAIRING: Min Yoongi x Reader

▸ RATING & GENRE: PG-15 ; Angst, Fluff, Divorce Lawyer AU, Marriage AU

▸ WORD COUNT: 10,079 words

▸ A/N: Aaaah okay so I definitely enjoyed writing this part more. I hope you like the read and, if there are any questions/thoughts, feel free to message me! Disclaimer again that I have zero proper knowledge about law!!

▸ WARNING: Brief drunken cheating scene.

Part One | Part Two

Yoongi carefully made his way up. He was definitely in over his head. What the hell was he doing? He always made sure to steer clear of the messy, intimate parts of a divorce, yet here he was volunteering to fix pieces of it. He barely knew the little girl, had only spoken to her briefly once or twice and she had regarded him with such cool, calculating eyes that he felt threatened.

Knocking lightly on the door, he waited to see if she would respond. As expected though, none came. He creaked the door open slowly and peeked inside, “Mia, it’s Yoongi.” She still granted him no reply, even when he stepped in and found her bundled up with a blanket over her head. He observed how the cloth seemed to tremble and wondered again—what the hell was he doing? “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Don’t want to,” she mumbled, still hidden from sight where she was a mound of cloth on the bed.

“Look, your mom—” he paused, taking a deep breath “—she’s been through a lot. I haven’t known her for long but I know that she’s been struggling plenty with everything that has been going on.”

“Don’t wanna hear it,” Mia said, voice muffled through the layers.

Yoongi bit on his bottom lip. This was probably an indication that he should’ve stopped, should’ve never stepped foot in the room in the first place. But his conscience had been pulling on the strings of his mind, urging him to pay attention. “She loves you a lot, Mia,” he added softly, “she didn’t want you to be hurt from all this so I’m sure it was hard for her to tell you.”

The fortress broke open with a whip of the blanket, revealing a red-faced ten-year-old that somehow still managed to scare Yoongi shitless. He backed away slightly and coughed awkwardly, trying to maintain his composure. He couldn’t believe he was feeling this disconcerted due to a child.

“But she should’ve told me!” she snarled, “that’s why I’m mad at mommy.”

“Well, um—your mommy was going to tell you but she was scared, yeah, she didn’t want you to be mad at her. That’s maybe why she held off on telling you.”

Mia narrowed his eyes at him, gaze almost piercing even in the dim lighting of the room. Her lips curled sourly as her glance darted away from him. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. She sighed quietly, “That makes sense.”

This kid really was petrifying, it’s no wonder even Namjoon always spoke so highly of her. “Yes, so I hope you’ll forgive your, uh, mommy. She’s really… sad.”

“I know,” she pouted, “but I’m still mad.”

Well, Yoongi didn’t have a solution to that. He did his best.

“Are you her boyfriend?” she asked curiously, tilting her head. Her eyes were suddenly bright with life, with assessment. He wanted to pee his pants.

“Uh, no,” he gulped, “I’m her lawyer, the one helping her deal with the divorce.”

Mia seemed to mull over this for a few seconds before shrugging, “I think you’d suit her better than my dad ever did.”

Holy shit. This was definitely way out of his comfort zone. Time to leave. “Uh—”

“But okay,” she huffed, “I understand. But I’m just going to stay in my room and make her think I’m still mad for a little while. That’s what she gets for keeping this from me.”

Fucking terrifying. This kid was a devil trapped into a child’s body and Yoongi was dead scared in that moment that he was going to be possessed too. There was a wiseness to her words, a mature cadence to her voice that made her seem older than she actually was. Like everyone has been telling him, Mia was a clever one.

Still, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at her. “You’re an evil little thing.”

“I take after the best,” she grinned right back, a malicious sparkle in her eyes.

“Alright, get some sleep and please talk to your mom in the morning okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, tucking herself underneath the blankets.

Yoongi felt something aligning with pride blossom in his chest. He did a good thing, the right thing. He made his way to the door for an escape, but not before hearing a quiet “thank you” to which he simpered at on his own.

When the man returned after spending an excruciating number of minutes upstairs, you nearly leapt off your seat. “What did she say?” you asked, eyes pleading.

“Everything’s fine,” he assured you, choosing not to let you in on the secret Mia had disclosed to her plans, “she’s getting some sleep now but she should speak to you tomorrow.”

You let out a sigh of relief—this was the first bit of good news and, despite it not being the most significant, it was enough to assuage some of your worry. “Thank you, Yoongi. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“It’s no problem,” he said then adding, “maybe I should work for family therapy, I seem to be pretty good at this.”

His joke had you giggling lightly. “Not too late for a change in profession, Min.”

He smirked, “I’ll consider it. I should get going though, it’s late and I think we all need the rest tonight. Give me a call whenever you have time again and I’ll squeeze you into my schedule.”

“Will do,” you nodded, “thank you again. Let me know yeah when you get back?” He seemed surprised by the request, the reaction obvious in the slight widening of his eyes. You blushed slightly, unsure why you were so embarrassed by your demand, “Just so I know you’re safe.”

Yoongi’s lips twitched but he nodded nevertheless. “I’ll do that. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

The following morning found you obsessively preparing a breakfast good enough to suit kings and queens. You had cooked up all of Mia’s favorites, an unconscious effort to hopefully conciliate with your daughter. Mia tended to be stubborn, has been known to hold grudges against those who wronged her, and you could only hope that you weren’t one of them.

When she came down, your body’s first instinct was to tense nervously. “Morning, Mia,” you greeted, hoping your voice wasn’t shaking as much as your insides were.

“Morning, Mom,” she yawned, “what’s for breakfast?”

“You can take your pick,” you said, finishing up the last of the pancakes and setting it along with the rest of the feast on the table.

Your eyes met and you found what you could only call devious glee. “You really didn’t have to do all this,” she huffed, but sat down and began to eat without complaints. You were thankful that she was at least speaking to you and exhaled the heaviness in your heart. “And,” she started again, mouth full of eggs, “I’m sorry for screaming at you last night. That’s not polite of me.”

You nearly wept, you really did raise her well enough. “It’s alright, and I’m sorry too for not telling you.”

“Your lawyer explained it to me and made me understand,” she nodded proudly, “I like him. He’s smart.”

Oh, that was new. You bit back a smile. “Yeah? You like Yoongi?”

“Yep,” she said, “maybe once you divorce dad you can date him instead.”

“Mia!”

Your company held an annual summer gala—a fancy shindig to reward some employees and invite the press, inducing good marketing while also allowing time for clients to mingle. It was a good opportunity to do some PR and get to know more companies in the industry. Of course, being one of the heads of the conglomerate, you had the chance to invite some of your closest peers and acquaintances.

Namjoon had been on the list ever since you could get your hands on it along with a few other tight friends whom you treasured dearly. However, this year, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to invite Yoongi as well. He had become a friend, after all, and he was also Namjoon’s friend so that would be another excuse to add him to the guest list.

Set in a large ballroom in a hotel downtown, the event was magnificently planned. You had spent the last two months stressing over the tiniest details, driving your own secretary to the brink of her sanity. But all your hard work and tears paid off when you saw the splendid venue. Guests were drifting across the floors, plates of scrumptious dinners in hand from the buffet catered only from the best restaurants. The hall seemed to light up brilliantly, shimmering with the hypnotic white light.

“You did good,” Namjoon nudged your shoulder with his own, a dimpled grin on his face. “I think you’ve outdone yourself.”

“That’s what you say every year,” you laughed, “but thank you, I’m glad you appreciate my taste in decor.”

“You know I got you, babe,” Namjoon winked.

You crinkled your nose at him, “Well, thank you also for making time to come. I know your days have been jam packed and I’m glad to see a familiar face.”

“Uncle Namjoon!” Mia chirped, running on her little legs, her glittery blue dress swaying around her legs. She launched herself around Namjoon’s ridiculously long limbs and he was quick to crouch down to embrace her in a tight hug. “I missed you,” she gushed.

“Missed you too, little monster,” he flicked her nose playfully. Ever since he heard you use the apt nickname, he couldn’t help but pick it up. “Have you been behaving for mommy?”

“Mhm!” she nodded.

“And classes?”

She held up a finger, “Number one!”

Namjoon beamed, “That’s my girl. Here, a present, don’t give it to your mom okay.” He held out an envelope and she practically glowed at the sight.

“Namjoon!” you chided but it was too late, Mia was already squealing, thanking him and running off knowing full well that you would take it out of her hands to return it to the man. Namjoon didn’t look the least bit shameful over his actions and instead said that she deserved it. “I can’t believe you’re bribing my child into liking you.”

“Babe, you and I both know bribery isn’t needed for that. I’m naturally charming,” Namjoon huffed.

“That’s a moot point.” This time it was another voice that had you and Namjoon turning away from the stage.

Wow. Yoongi had cleaned up for the event and you were somewhat pleased—no, scratch that—you were very pleased with the result. His bangs were slightly parted, revealing a hint of his forehead and his dangerous eyebrows. He donned a classic black suit ornamented with weaves of patterns that reflected light every time he shifted. Layering the jacket over a crisp white shirt tucked into black slacks, he also had slipped on a bowtie that worked very well with him. His ears—holy shit—he had piercings and had slipped on very small hoops. They worked very, very well with him.

You kicked away the sudden heat bubbling in your stomach and spreading all through your body. Licking your lips, you tried to hide the desire warming up your cheeks behind your flute of champagne.

He nodded in greeting to you, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you brightened in return, “thank you for coming, it’s a good chance to finally come out of that office of yours. God knows Heechul can’t stand the smell anymore.”

At that, Yoongi scowled with a roll of his eyes. “Heechul can put up with it considering he’s spilled coffee on my shirt this week. Twice.”

You laughed, “I think you’ve scared him into oblivion. You should lighten up on him.”

“He definitely seems to have taken a liking towards you,” he nodded thoughtfully. Then he looked around, seeming to look for something or someone. “Where’s Mia? Thought she’d be around you.”

You waved it off then picked up a glass of wine from a waiter walking past and offered it to him. The last time you invited Yoongi over, he had refused a drink, calling champagne a disgrace to the alcoholic beverages category, but had reluctantly accepted when you insisted on wine instead. He thanked you and waited for your response. “Most of my colleagues are familiar with her so she tends to be here and there, burn off all that energy before the gala is done.”

He smirked, toasting his glass, “Smart.”

Namjoon eyed your interaction with great interest, tilting his own glass to let the fizzy liquid flow down his throat. “Didn’t know you two were that close.”

“Yoongi is around the house from time to time when we can’t meet in either of our offices. Mia sees him a lot too, seems to like him now,” you grinned.

“Mia? Liking someone other than me? Unheard of,” Namjoon gasped dramatically.

“She’s widening her horizons,” you noted proudly. The event planner made her way over to you, whispered something about someone uninvited causing a ruckus outside. There were always event crashers, usually drunk, usually manageable so it was surprising for her to come up to you. Judging by the look of discomfort on her face, you decided it would be best for you to handle it personally. “If you excuse me, gentlemen, I have to tend to another matter. But please, enjoy the food and beverages, I’ll see you both later.”

You followed the woman down a hallway outside of the ballroom and into another room where you could hear screaming from the other side. The last thing you expected when you went through the doors was for Sungjae to be standing in the room. Security was there attempting to hold him down, but it was clear that, in his inebriated state, he wasn’t having any of it.

“Sungjae.” The name slipped out almost instinctively. He looked up, halting his efforts in the battle in the process.

“Baby,” he grinned, a cloud of impairment glazing over his eyes.

“It’s fine,” you gestured for the men to stop and turned to the event planner. “I’ll take care of it from here, please ensure everything else goes undisturbed.” She looked a bit hesitant at your order, but nodded and signaled for the men to follow her out, leaving you alone with the man who was then staring at you.

It really was heartbreaking to see him in this state. His hair was disheveled, suit crinkled, a dark bottle in hand that he lifted to take another swig of. Gritting your teeth, you snatched the beverage from his hand and glared, “That is enough, Sungjae.”

“I haven’t finished that,” he growled, fire igniting in his irises.

“Enough, you’re being disrespectful to me and the company right now.”

“That’s right,” he drawled sarcastically, “you missed an invite, didn’t you?”

Every year, Sungjae has been invited as your date to the gala. Everyone’s grown accustomed to seeing him there, so acclimated to it that you had received plenty of inquisition about his whereabouts that night. You looked at him with concern, “You haven’t been home in nearly a month, Sungjae. I just assumed you wouldn’t be coming.”

“Seem to do a lot of that, don’t you? Assume,” he spat out mockingly.

“Sungjae, please. Look I’ll get someone to take you home, okay? We can talk about this—”

“How’re the divorce papers?” he smirked instead, plopping down on an empty couch and patting the spot next to him.

You ignored his invite and instead sighed, aggravated. “They’re going. You know you won’t win anything from this, right? You’re just wasting your time.”

“Trust me, baby,” he said with a curl of his lips, “I have all the time in the world. You’re the one who brought this on, why should I make it easy for you?”

What happened to him? You didn’t understand how much a man could change in a span of a few months with only one trigger to set it off. It was as if all hell that had been trapped inside him had broken loose the second he was released from his job. A part of you felt some form of culpability. Maybe you hadn’t been aware of all of his struggles, of his troubled thoughts. Maybe if you had been more curious and less caught up in everything that was you, you would’ve noticed and prevented all of this.

It took two to tango. You weren’t completely blameless in the downward spiral of your relationship either. Somewhere along the way, you had somehow lost that passion you once believed you had for him—and in turn lost all your faith in him.

“Sungjae, please, let’s just get this settled quickly. For both our sakes and Mia’s.”

“Don’t bring her into this,” he growled, “you know well that you would be given full custody of her. You dare bring her into this? You’re taking her away from me!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t deem it necessary! Don’t even try to deny it. This wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you didn’t start it.”

Sungjae sneered, “You think the entire fucking world spins around you, that you’re playing the martyr in this case. But we both know better than that.”

“I’m not trying to antagonize you in any way. I just want the best for her,” you snapped, “that’s what you should want to. You’re her father.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want her to grow up without a father.”

You laughed in disbelief, “You think this is fatherhood? Your absence being so frequent that Mia doesn’t even ask anymore. Do you think it’s easy for me? Do you really think I’m happy to see our daughter not give a single flying fuck that her father isn’t around anymore?”

Something flashed in his eyes, something you hoped to be fear and remorse, but you couldn’t quite tell. The flicker disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. Before he could retort, the door opened and Yoongi stepped in. God, no. This wasn’t good. You could feel the fear creeping into your voice when he made his way over to the two of you. “Yoongi—”

“Really?” Sungjae directed this towards you instead, laughing bitterly, “Divorce isn’t even settled and you’ve already replaced me?”

“Jesus Christ,” you snarled at him, “he’s my fucking lawyer for God’s sake, Sungjae.”

Sungjae disregarded your words completely, instead standing to size up Yoongi. It was the stance he had taken even in college whenever he felt particularly threatened by another presence. It was familiar and it was childish. The man was wobbling with his buzzing mind, but he didn’t seem to care as he stumbled over to your friend.

“I think that’s enough,” Yoongi muttered then glanced towards you, his gaze briefly scanning over you to ensure that you were unharmed. “I hope you don’t mind my interruption. Namjoon was getting worried and I went to check on you. This wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“It’s fine,” you pressed your lips together. You weren’t pleased that Yoongi had shown up, but it was mainly due to the fact that your husband was behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Sir, if you could kindly follow me out, we can settle this carefully. You don’t want to make your case worse for you,” Yoongi advised calmly, reaching for the man only for him to bat his hand away.

Sungjae jeered, his eyes turning as it to ridicule Yoongi’s attempt, “Piss off. Are you threatening me?”

“I am not, but I am her lawyer and I won’t hesitate to take this into court should it escalate.”

Your husband glared at you instead, pointing his finger accusingly at you. “Can’t fuckin’ believe you’re already doing this,” he barked.

“Sungjae, Christ, it’s not like that,” you muttered, “can you stop being a child for two seconds? Listen to him. I don’t want things to be worse for you. What would the judge say? Do you think they would even want to give you time to see Mia if this gets brought into the settlement?”

His eyes turned manic then, as if fear was fluttering through his system at breakneck speed. He swallowed, backing away from the two of you, mouth opening and closing with no words tumbling out. The sheer disbelief imprinted on the creases on his face was agonizing. As much as you did not like his intrusion to your event at the moment, you also wanted to reassure him that it was going to be okay, that they were going to be settle this quietly.

“Please, Sungjae, just listen to him,” you whispered.

“I can’t believe you, you’re a fucking—”

“Sir,” Yoongi interjected, moving to stand in front of you, “please follow me outside.”

“And you—you fuck right off! You have no right to get involved. This is between me and her.”

Yoongi’s lips tightened again. “Sir, I have to get involved. She’s my client—” pause “—and a friend. if you don’t listen to me, I will include harassment in the courtroom and you certainly do not need that on top of everything else. I suggest you take your leave now because there are already plenty of witnesses on the scene who saw you enter, witnesses that can easily testify on our behalf. You don’t need this to worsen.”

Sungjae’s eyes darted between the two of you. You begged him with your gaze. Please, just go. Don’t make this situation more awful than it already is. His predicament and inner dilemma was palpable in the way his eyes darted quickly between the two of you. He seemed to have come to a decision when he stalked off towards the door, shoving them open with a shout, “Whatever, see you in court.”

It was then that your knees began to give out but Yoongi was quick enough to catch you, arms wrapping around you to support your body and help you to a seat. All the adrenaline had dissipated from your body, leaving nothing but exhaustion and ache in your being. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, what in the world—

“Breathe,” Yoongi bent down and looked up at you. “Breathe, it’s okay. He’s gone. It’ll be fine. I promise I won’t include this if you don’t want to.” His hands enveloped yours, thumbs running over the skin comfortingly. The action did little to actually alleviate your swelling apprehensiveness, but you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

“N-no, don’t,” you cleared your throat, breath hiccuping in your throat,“I don’t want to rub salt in his wounds. It’ll become messier for us too if we keep adding things.”

“Alright,” he agreed.

Namjoon burst through the doors then, hurrying over to your side and scanning you for any injuries. “Are you okay? I heard the last of it but security wouldn’t let me in—”

“I’m okay,” you swallowed weakly, “thank you.”

Mia was close behind him and quickly jumped on your lap, slinking her arms around your neck. She was whimpering softly and you apologized over and over to her, placing kisses over her hair to soothe her.

“I’m good, baby,” you smiled at her when she pulled away, “don’t worry. Uncle Yoongi helped me.”

“I heard Uncle Yoongi inside,” she nodded then turned to Yoongi with gratefulness oozing out of her. “Thank you for taking care of mommy.”

Yoongi offered a small smile in return. “Of course, Mia.”

After that, the rest of the event went by relatively uninterrupted. You had your speech, had to hear Namjoon clap and hoot from the crowd. Cleaning up with the rest of the team and thanking them for their hard work, you finished up the last of your duties for the night. You were beyond drained at that point, the activities of the night sucking the last drop of energy from your body.

“Did you drive?” Namjoon asked, tilting his head. “You don’t seem to be in any state of handling any vehicle at this point.”

“Wow, thanks,” you sighed. It was true, you looked worse for weary, blinking away sleep from your eyes as Mia held onto your hand.

“Yoongi, you brought your car, right? Why don’t you drive her back?”

Yoongi opened his mouth as if to argue, but Namjoon gave him a look that shut him up. He turned to you, “I can drive you both back and someone can pick up your car tomorrow.”

“No, it’s really fine. I can still drive.”

“I insist,” he supplied again, “it’ll be fine. I have enough room in the car for the two of you and I don’t have work tomorrow so I can deliver you both home safe and sound.”

You still looked dubious, but Yoongi insisted again that it was perfectly fine. Thus, you ended up caving, nestling into the comfortable passenger seat of Yoongi’s car. Mia was strapped in the back, bouncing and squealing about how cool everything looked. The ride was pleasant and the silence was constantly covered by Mia’s enthusiastic chatters about the people she met tonight. She seemed much more at ease with Yoongi, including him into the conversations and asking him for his own thoughts.

By the time the lot of you reached your home, she was fast asleep in the backseat, her voice having disappeared from the quietness just moments ago. While you collected your belongings, Yoongi volunteered to carry her upstairs despite your protests. He only waved you off, carefully picking the little girl up and bringing her to her bedroom and tucking her in. Thankfully, she was a heavy sleeper and was still out cold when Yoongi closed her door.

You were pouring yourself a glass of wine when the man returned to the dining room. “Care for a glass?”

“I think I’ve had my share tonight,” he laughed lightly.

“Oh, come on, it’s not everyday you get to sit back and relax like this. You wouldn’t make me finish this on my own, would you?” you wiggled the bottle before him.

Yoongi shook his head, amused, “Alright. Just one, then I’m heading back.”

Of course, it never ended with just one—not when the two of you were getting down to the nitty gritty of your relationship with Sungjae. Curiosity had gotten the best of the man and a question quickly slipped out of his lips about what happened between the two of you before he could contemplate it further.

You hummed thoughtfully, body warm and buzzing. “Hmm, I mean, I really was in love with him once,” you confessed, “we had a blast in college, never one without the other. When he proposed, I guess it was just… expected. He was expected to do it, I was expected to say yes. It seemed logical. But guess we should’ve waited a bit longer. Work took off for me but didn’t for him. I went to work and he went drinking. Love lost, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, it must’ve been hard,” Yoongi rambled again. You could begin to hear his words stringing together, slurring over each other.

“I got used to it after a while,” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder tiredly. The two of you were nestled on the couch in the living room after the dining room proved to be too chilly for your liking. “It was hard at first, but the worst part I guess is being so tolerant and familiar with it. Who knew that I would be so… fine with him gone? Hell, a part of me even felt relieved at times.”

Yoongi remained quiet at that, breathing out and taking another sip of his drink.

“I’m sorry,” you jerked away, “that must sound terrible.”

“It’s reasonable. You had a reason to be,” Yoongi promised, “I think… you’ve done enough on your end, it’s time for him to make a change.”

“It just gets lonely, you know, it’s nice having someone to rely on again. You’re very dependable, you know that?” you giggled, poking his arm.

He snorted, “Thanks, good to know I’m doing my job right.”

“What about you? Any love stories? Any exes to look out for?”

Yoongi laughed quietly at that, “No, my current affections only lie in my workplace.”

“Including Heechul?”

“Including Heechul,” he smirked, “I haven’t dated in so long. I think I’ve lost my touch for it.”

You peered at him curiously, “Why not? I don’t think you would have any trouble getting anyone you had an eye on.” When he turned to you with an expression of sheer disbelief, you added in a wink. “Come on, Yoongi, it’s not like you don’t know you’re attractive.”

His response was only to take another gulp of his wine and look away, circling the rim of his grass with the pad of his finger quietly.

“Yoongi!” you chastised.

“What?” he chuckled, brilliant, bright eyes flying up to meet yours.

“You’re so—ugh,” you broke off, scoffing.

He laughed, louder this time, with a tip of his head. The pretty column of his throat exposed itself, almost tantalizingly drawing you in to the smooth skin. “I’m ugh? I don’t think that’s a very good sign.”

“Oh God, you have to know you’re like really good-looking.”

His milky skin seemed to tinge the color of corals, a sweet dusting across his cheeks. “Ah, thank you. I’m glad you think so.” His latter sentence seemed more of a question rather than a statement. He inhaled deeply, breathing out through his nose, “I think… being a divorce lawyer just keeps reaffirming that love isn’t for me, that marriage isn’t for me.”

“Feeds into your cynicism?” you smirked.

He matched your expression with a nod, “Can’t help it. When you see relationships fail on a daily basis and are supporting the cause, it’s hard to have faith in the impossible, you know?”

“It doesn’t have to be impossible,” you shrugged, “it differs between couples. I’ve seen some last a lifetime, some a month or so.”

“It’s not like I’m drawing anyone in anytime soon,” he snorted, “so I don’t really think too much of having no relationship.”

You bumped shoulders with him and grinned, “If you weren’t so intimidating the first time I met you, I might’ve actually liked you.”

“You don’t like me now?” he teased playfully.

“I might just like you more now,” you scrunched up your nose cutely at him, “you’re really cool but also super, like, humble? How do you even do that?”

“You’re flattering me too much, I have a feeling you’re going to be asking me for a discount for my employment soon.”

You gasped, smacking his shoulder, “How dare you accuse me of such a thing?” Cue a momentary pause before you looked up hopefully at him. “But did it work?”

He snorted, “Fat chance.”

“A girl can hope,” you sighed. You lolled your head back, groaning as you cracked your neck. The event had been more taxing than you initially imagined, you could feel the aching throbbing on the back of your neck. Yoongi’s eyes seemed to follow your movements, his gaze searing heat into your skin where it was exposed. You still had on the dress you had prepared for the gala earlier, an elegant, off-shoulder satin piece that draped over your figure nicely.

“You’re beautiful.”

The words that fell from his lips tipped over the balance of the atmosphere. Your breath hitched in your throat as you whipped around to look at him only for Yoongi to veer his body away from you, his throat moving with a swallow.

“Sorry, that didn’t seem appropriate.”

“I, um, no—I mean, it’s fine, thank you,” you stammered yourself, biting your lip as you felt heat creeping up your cheeks. That had been truly sudden. You weren’t sure how to react to it. “I mean, it’s flattering to know that you think I’m… pretty.”

“You are,” he murmured softly, glance flicking up to scan your eyes.

You giggled, a nervous twinge in your voice, “I hope you’re not just saying that to return the compliment.”

“‘Course not,” Yoongi grunted defensively, “I genuinely think you’re beautiful. You’re a very stunning, perspicacious woman and I hope no one’s told you otherwise.”

“Uh, no, no one’s told me otherwise. I think. Not to my face at least,” you mused, humored.

The two of you sat in silence for a second, for a heavy beat in the air, before you decided to spin your body. Yoongi met you halfway, touching his lips to yours. Your heart lurched in your chest, threatening to burst as you were taken aback by his boldness. However, it didn’t take you long to melt into the kiss. His lips were gentle, careful, moving against yours very cautiously.

Your hand reached up to curl around his neck, tugging on the strands of hair behind him. He breathed against your lips, tongue darting out to lick at your lips. You instinctively granted him access, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to slip inside. The muscle stroked your insides, pressing up against yours, wet and hot. His arm slid around your waist, tugging you closer and, before you realized, your legs were thrown on either side of his body. Your arms drifted around his neck, pulling him closer and you pressed into him. His own limbs encased you, folding your body into his. Your beings practically molded together, two hearts beating rhythmically together in the silence of the room.

His hands stroked your cheek, fingers cool against the heat of your skin. You didn’t know how long you sat there just kissing—lips connected and twisting in synchrony. Your heart felt as if it was soaring and grounded at the same time, all the pent-up emotion that had mounted over the days, all your bottled up frustrations all began to dissolve into the sweetness of the brush of his lips against yours.

Neither of you seemed to be conscious of what happened next, but the two of you ended up tangled together on that couch, wrapped around each other, hearts still beating as one.

You were in the kitchen the next morning, absentmindedly preparing breakfast. Your body moved on autopilot, too distracted to really focus on the task at hand. Having woken up before Yoongi, you had quickly leapt away from him, contrition chipping away at your conscience. You had slowly pulled yourself away from him, allowing him to nestle into the couch comfortably. With a heavy heart, you had left him there to get ready for your day, bringing you to this point in time.

The thud outside the dining room had you rushing there in case it was Mia, but instead you found Yoongi wincing as he attempted to carry his shoes out the door. God, this was going to be painful. “You know,” you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He whirled around like deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and lips parted. “You can stay for breakfast, I’m making something warm.”

“I’m good,” he stiffened, straightening instantly, “I have work.”

You bit back the urge to remind him that he had told you the exact opposite just the previous night. “It’s coffee and toast,” you offered again, hoping it would persuade him.

Yoongi flinched, nibbling his lip warily. Your name rolled off his tongue bitterly, like a piece of regret he was trying to rid himself of. “We really shouldn’t.”

It hurt, it did. Your offer had been one for a friend, a comrade whom you trusted and relied on. But it would also be a lie if you were completely innocent in your suggestion. A part of you wanted him to stay so the two of you could work it out and hopefully smooth things down to leave no awkwardness behind.

“It’s breakfast, Yoongi,” you pressed again, your voice surrendering more of your anger than you wanted. “I’m not proposing to you.”

That seemed to strike another chord with him and he startled a little. He gulped, looking everywhere but you. “Look, I think we should just draw the line here. I’m a divorce lawyer, I don’t quite do romance. None of us are cut out for it and I’d rather not have you get your hopes up on a hopeless feat.”

Your voice was quiet then as you contemplated your next reply. “It doesn’t mean you can’t try,” you whispered, “not every marriage nor love is doomed to fail.”

“All the marriages I’ve seen had been, I can only judge based on experience,” he said almost apologetically, a look of sympathy bordering on pity engraved into his eyes. When you provided him with only quietness, he continued, “I’m just trying to keep things clean here. This is work and work alone. I don’t think loose ends is a good idea.”

Your heart stuttered as you looked up at him in surprise, both hurt and shock flashing in your gaze. “Loose ends?”

“This is for the best,” he maintained and you weren’t sure whether he was trying to convince you or himself. His tone was almost patronizing, insulting. “I’ll see you in the office and court, okay?” With those last words, he slipped on his shoes and was out the door, leaving the hallway cold and unwelcoming.

The month of your divorce was spent in a flurry of court schedules and piling workload. It was exhausting to enter the courtroom and spend hours arguing to wipe your hands clean of Sungjae. He seemed quieter in the courtroom, less aggressive. It looked as if he had given up hope of attaining everything he wanted. It was an easy win for you and Yoongi—well, you mainly. You had gotten everything you requested in your documents. The judge had closed the case quickly, determining that it was clear who would be granted full custody of Mia.

Although expected, you were still flooded with relief at the results.

As everyone filed out of the courtroom, you felt your legs wobble and weaken, plopping you down on a chair in the hallway as you thanked the lords for giving everyone strength to make it through that painful debacle.

While you had obviously known that this would be you cutting ties with Sungjae, it didn’t make it any less hurtful to know that you’ve finally cleared yourself of the man who had given you the best and worst of memories over the past few years, some of the most significant in your life. It was terrifying to know that he would be gone, that it was official what you once had has ended.

Looking up at the shadow cast over your feet, you found Yoongi looking at you with a softness in his eyes. Softness you didn’t want to see from him. Your throat was still raw with the emotion that had overwhelmed you the last few hours.

He said your name and you got on your feet, interrupting him with a polite smile. “Thank you.”

Yoongi blinked, looking somewhat unsettled. Perhaps he had been expecting something else.

“I’m glad it’s over,” you nodded slowly, “no loose ends right?” Your smile was admittedly crooked, as if you were biting back sentiments threatening to spill into your expression. This was it after all. The end. “I’ll send the rest of the payment by Monday,” you reassured him.

He looked conflicted for a second, his eyes searching yours cautiously. His lips parted for a brief second and your heart dropped. No, no. Please don’t— he clamped it shut. Instead, he bobbed his head in agreement and held out his hand. You shook it firmly. He said, “Thank you for your cooperation thus far.”

“No, thank you.”

After that, the rollercoaster of your life seemed to stabilize. Your days ran smoothly, an endless cycle of the same routines. Your mind was occupied solely by your assignments at work, the never-ending stack that your secretary seemed to delight in adding to, and Mia who came by to play every once in a while. She entertained herself for a while, jumping from cubicle to cubicle and getting her hands on anything and everything.

But the worst times were the periods of boredom she suffered through, prompting you to suffer through them as well. She would swing her legs wildly on the office chair in front of your desk, big eyes peering up at you. “When’s Uncle Yoongi coming back?”

You sighed, “He’s not coming back, baby. It was only for work and it’s finished.”

She pouted petulantly, mumbling, “I thought you guys were at least friends.”

Your heart throbbed dully at the thought. “I thought so too.”

And you figured that was all the twists your life had in store for you, that the rest of your days would pass by insipidly with the exception of days Mia seemed to surprise you with something she’s done or instances you would flail to reach deadlines. It wasn’t until a knock on your door, two months after the hurricane had slanted your life on its axes, seemed to collapse all your expectations.

Your first instinct was to freeze as you looked at the man who stood before you, surprise would be an understatement. “Sungjae? What’re you doing here?”

“Uh, can I come in?” he shifted almost anxiously. He looked neat with a neat white shirt, dark trousers over his legs and his face shaved clean of any stubble. His hair was no longer a horrid mess but had been cropped short to show off his dashing looks. For a second, you were thrown back to college, how good he had looked at the time. But even then, your heart was beating a different rhythm compared to those days. Love lost.

You wanted to tell him no, to send him away.

“I-I just want to talk,” he stuttered in addition, “you’re free to say no, but I was hoping we could… talk.”

That was how you ended up seated in a coffee shop just blocks away from your home. You still weren’t quite sure of his intentions and thought it best to take things away from your household, somewhere public, in case anything went south. The both of you sat in silence, you staring at him in confusion, him fidgeting in his seat.

“I want to start by apologizing,” he blurted out, his words had you tensing almost instantly. “I know I’ve messed things up between us, for us, for the family. I know I won’t get a second chance with you, but I—I don’t want you to remember me that way, as selfish as that sounds.”

You were too stunned to respond so you remained quiet, encouraging him to push forward.

“I’m slowly getting myself back on my feet, got myself a job,” he laughed shortly, “something small. I’m working my way back up, trying to get back on that position. It’s going to be a long ride but I’m enjoying it so far, feeling the normal again, you know.”

“Sungjae,” you began quietly, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m not asking for you back if that’s what you’re scared of,” he added swiftly, eyes bulging in fear. “I just—we have history and the last thing I want is for you to remember me as is this asshole who fucked up our marriage, fucked up our family. I—” he paused “—I wanted to thank you mainly. I’m glad you asked for the divorce and went through with it. It was like a slap of reality, it cleared some things up for me. I’m still going to therapy, and I’m trying to patch things up. I know things still aren’t the same, and they never will be, but I’m just hoping to fix some of the damage I’ve done.”

You felt for him, you really did. A large part of you believed that he would do it, that he would get by, and you were relieved. Though a small piece of you was still skeptic of him and the meaning of his arrival, you chose to set that aside and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m glad,” you said earnestly, “I’m glad you are, Sungjae. It’s good to hear that you’re doing better and that you’re making the effort.”

He seemed mildly appeased by your words, offering a shaky smile. “Thank you, really. I appreciate your thoughts.”

“But that’s not the only thing, is it?” you asked. You’ve known him long enough to recognize his ticks and tells. His incessant shifting and moving eyes gave him away.

Guilt painted over his features as he nervously began again, “I know this is a lot to ask, but… I was wondering if you would give me a chance to start anew with Mia.”

That had you clenching your fist, fingernails digging into your palm, as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I-I know I don’t deserve it—”

“You don’t.”

He faltered slightly and you almost felt guilty. “I’m still her father.”

“You lost that right a while ago.”

Sungjae swallowed, gaze falling to his hands. “I’m aware of that and I’m sorry, but I hope you’ll give me the chance to rectify that. One chance. It doesn’t have to be now or today, but… someday.”

Your first instinct was to reject his request and leave, drop everything right then. Sungjae, if he really has changed, would let the matter go as well—either that or the old Sungjae would’ve returned to persist until he got what he wanted. But your compassion kicked in. This was Sungjae baring himself to you, exposing his struggle and success since the last time you’ve seen him. The change was evident in his appearance, the penitence dripping in his voice.

“Check back in in a month and I’ll decide then.”

His eyes brightened with hope and your chest ached. “Thank you, thank you,” he whispered over and over, bowing from where he sat, “I promise I’ll do my best. I won’t let you down.”

You really hoped so too.

On the other side of town, Yoongi was sulking and snapping at Heechul. Again. He had been in this perpetual state of undeniable, cyclic annoyance towards everything around him. His secretary seemed to be the butt of all of his channeled rage. Heechul’s threatened to quit several times, but HR had managed to make him stay with the pledge that Yoongi’s mood wasn’t going to be permanent.

But jokes on him, Yoongi was always bitter. He was just more so as of late.

“She’s been working more you know,” Namjoon said, sipping his coffee casually as if he hadn’t just raised the taboo topic Yoongi had been attempting to avoid for so long.

The elder man gritted his teeth, focusing instead on picking on the pastry in front of him. “What she does has nothing to do with me.”

Namjoon snorted in disbelief. “Is that why you’ve been checking your phone every two minutes?” So Yoongi’s never been an avid phone user, but he has been obsessively refreshing his phone these past few… weeks. He was expecting important emails, that’s what he told himself at least. “And,” Namjoon continued as if he wasn’t annoying enough as was, “is that why you knew exactly who I was talking about?”

Yoongi scowled, biting down on his muffin angrily, “Look, I don’t need you on my ass about it.”

“You’re making it difficult when it doesn’t have to be,” the younger sighed, “you like her, why can’t you just admit that? Christ, hyung, it’s not like i’m asking you to drop on one knee and sweep her away to the Bahamas on a honeymoon. I’m just asking you to give things a try.” His words was a moment of déjà vu for Yoongi who had heard the exact same words from your mouth months ago. “I know your occupation makes you a skeptic of the entire romance thing, and so did your parents.”

He flinched, hating himself for reacting to it. His parents weren’t particularly a touchy subject, but he couldn’t deny that they played a part in his distrust towards marriages and relationships in general. Some section of his mind held onto those memories, to the failed love his parents had experienced, and expected him to do the same. He was aware of that, he just didn’t like to admit it.

Instead of responding directly to him, Yoongi said, voice low, “Do you know that the number of marriages reached its lowest point since 1974 last year?” Namjoon quirked an eyebrow. “Fell below three-hundred thousand. And you can guess why.”

“That’s a stupid argument,” Namjoon muttered, “and did you know that the divorce rate has been declining since it peaked in 2003?” Yoongi opened his mouth. “Yeah, dropped 1.7% last year too, down by 1,800. Amazing, isn’t it?” Namjoon laughed, that familiar look of self-satisfaction dancing in his eyes. “If you’re going to play dirty with numbers then you can bet your ass I’m going to use it against you.”

Yoongi wanted to hit him.

“I’m not asking you to jump for it, not asking you to drop everything you’ve believed in for her. That’s absolutely senseless and I know you’re better than that. I also know you enough that you never back away from a challenge, so what are you scared of, Yoongi?”

This was the worst.

If there was anything worse than dealing with incompetent employees, it would be dealing with a dozen screaming children running around your house while doing your best to be a good host to said children’s parents. It was bad enough that you were running the party on your own, with a little bit of help from your secretary who had a soft spot for your daughter, but couple it with mothers who didn’t know when to keep their mouths shut just made it ten times worse.

The divorce topic was hovering over the entire room, a question on why it happened. But none of them dared to bring it up on such a joyous occasion except one. You weren’t sure whose mother it was but you sure weren’t inviting her to any future engagements.

“I heard you recently got divorced,” she had started with a look of feigned sympathy, “I’m sorry to hear. Must be hard to be a single mom.”

You had laughed it off, told her it was fine. You were okay with it. Until—

“I can introduce you to a few men I know.”

Holy shit. You bolted out of there so fast with an excuse to replenish drinks out in the lawn where the kids were gathered. As the kids busied themselves with games hosted by the MC you had hired for the day—also known as your lovely secretary’s boyfriend, you went over to the door when the bell had rung. You were ushering a few of the kids who had disconnected from the group to check if it was the clown (it wasn’t) back inside, shouting at them to stay away from the vases. You huffed, tired, as you swung open the door.

Your entire body became paralyzed at the sight. You really didn’t think anything would surprise you more than Sungjae’s arrival, but once again life proved you wrong. Yoongi stood there, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a very, very big wrapped package in the other.

You couldn’t form a coherent response, so he took initiative, offering a small smile. “I remember reading in your files that your daughter’s birthday was today. I was hoping you’d be home and that—” a scream sounded somewhere in the distance, there was too much distracting ringing in your ear for you to acknowledge it “—that, uh, you’d celebrate here. Guess I was right, huh?” He awkwardly laughed.

You tightened your jaw. “What are you doing here, Yoongi-ssi?”

He flinched at the formality, looking almost guilt-ridden for a second. “Please don’t call me that. I think we’re past formalities.”

“It was just business, remember?” You knew you were being difficult, but it had been months. What made him think that he had any right to show his face here when—

“Uncle Yoongi!” The shriek reached the door before your daughter did, barreling past you to throw her arms around his legs. “You’re here!” Then her eyes found the blue box. “And you brought me a present?”

You tugged on Mia’s arms, but she was tireless as she whined and clung onto him. “Mia, enough. Go back inside, you have your friends.” A quick glance down the front hallway let you know that the mothers had grown curious at the sudden appearance of a handsome man at the door, their whispers carrying down the column.

“Invite him in, Mom!” Mia squealed. “Invite him to the party!”

“Mia—”

“Please, please,” she begged over and over.

You huffed, giving her a stern look, “I’m sure he’s busy.”

Mia scoffed as if the thought itself was absurd. “It’s my birthday,” she said, her words explaining everything, “he can’t be busy for my birthday.”

Yoongi, above her, choked on a laugh and nodded. His lips were still stretched wide in a thrilled smile as he ruffled her hair. “I cleared out my day today to celebrate with you.”

Hurt passed through your gaze as you gulped the guilt clogging your throat. Mia was still tugging on your dress, urging you to invite him. What choice did you have? Your hands were tied. Begrudgingly, you opened the door wider to let him in. Mia tugged him into the house, showing him the spread they had and all the games planned out for the day. Yoongi seemed content with following her around, but you still noted the glances he threw your way. Knowing he was in your home made you feel even more nervous. You kept yourself engaged with the most infinitesimal of tasks, picking on small things to make sure that things were perfect.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was beginning to dread this entire situation. Mia was still holding onto him and, as much as he loved her and was there for her, he also wanted to speak to you. It was wrong of him to use Mia to his advantage but beggars can’t be choosers. He was fine with Mia pulling him all over the place—that was, until he spotted Sungjae. The man was tucked into a corner, smiling as he looked over the kids, looked over Mia.

Yoongi knew he had no right to be possessive over the little girl, the little girl that was half of you and half of Sungjae, but his irritation still brewed hot and angry inside of him. He excused himself away from Mia, letting her return to her friends, before stalking over to Sungjae. “You know that the—”

“I know,” Sungjae smiled, completely ignorant of Yoongi’s annoyance, or choosing to ignore it, “but she invited me.” What the fuck? Something identical to fear took over his vexation, a gnawing feeling in his heart that told him to run, run, run. What if—what if you had taken him back? You both had a past, one that went far and deep beyond Yoongi’s reach. But he tamped down his questions for now, figuring that he would go to you for those answers instead.

But the man opened his mouth again. “She’s a keeper,” he hummed, a twinkle in his eye, “so you better get a hold of her fast if you don’t want to use her.” Yoongi thought that this man might just want to go with him right then and there. He was being purposely cryptic, something Yoongi didn’t appreciate.

He had other things to focus on, more important things.

You were still moving swiftly around the house to get everything in order. It wasn’t until you were in the kitchen that Yoongi trapped you. He had been attempting to catch you a few times, but his efforts were fruitless when you kept evading him.

Avoiding his eyes, you started, “Mia needs to—”

“She’s good,” he curtly intervened, “she’s playing with her friends.”

“I need to make sure—”

“Food is all stocked, the parents can feed themselves.”

You were growing incensed by his interruptions. “Yoongi.”

“We need to talk.”

Goddammit. You huffed, rolling your eyes, “There’s nothing to talk about. Plus, it’s been months. We could’ve done this talk months ago.”

Yoongi sighed, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I have other things to do, Yoongi.”

“Please,” he pleaded again. It was a mistake to look at him then because his stare was brimming with desperation, one that made you cave.

Biting your tongue, you snapped, “Two minutes.”

“I don’t like mixing business with pleasure,” he began. This was not off to a good start. “You were my client. I had to maintain my professionalism, it wouldn’t have been right. Kissing you—” he paused, connecting his thoughts “—kissing you and staying with you that late had crossed too many boundaries we had when we were still working together, when you were still married.”

You stiffened. He had a point and that bugged you.

“It wasn’t fair to either of us, nor Sungjae. But I’ve been thinking about it these past few weeks,” he softly spoke, “and I guess we both fucked up a little.”

A gasp from the door (“he said a bad word”) drew your attention away from Yoongi’s face and to the menace that was peeking into the kitchen. “Mia!” you scolded, blushing, “stop eavesdropping!” Then she darted away and you could hear the resounding footsteps.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “forgot there are kids around. But, uh, my point is. I did mess up, I should’ve came clean but I was—I guess I was still trying to piece my feelings together. I haven’t been in a relationship in so long, you have to know that. This is—this is like brand new territory for me, my affections towards you.” You looked up then, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t want to think about the possibility of having something beyond platonic emotions towards you, that there might be something more.”

“It—it just doesn’t sit well with me that you took this long to figure this out. I know you’re sorry about it, I’m sorry too. It wasn’t right for me to pressure you into it and I apologize. But why now? Why didn’t you speak up then?”

Yoongi swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. He took a deep breath and continued, “At that point, I was scared that it was also you just seeking company. You were alone after having been with Sungjae for so long, you were going through a divorce. People don't recover that fast and I didn't want you to jump the gun in case you changed your mind. Yes, I was scared, but I also wanted to play safe to make sure that you were sure about it."

Dammit. You took your words back. This was the worst. “I hate it when you make sense,” you muttered, “I hate that you can reason everything you do.” A huff escaped your lips, one that disclosed your displeasure, but also your defeat. “But, you’re right,” you breathed, “the timing had been wrong. I might not have been in my right mind then to make those decisions and you were the smarter of the two of us to understand that. So I guess thank you too for being careful with me. I was still attached, it wasn't fair. So I think I should also be asking for your forgiveness.”

Yoongi seemed to bloom with your words, something akin to hope gleaming in his eyes. “You know my answer to that already.”

You pinched your lips, suppressing the sudden urge to grin, “It would still be nice to hear it.”

He laughed, leaning his face closer to yours, bumping your noses together. “I forgive you, will you forgive me?”

“You know my answer to that,” you teased.

Yoongi growled, brushing his lips over yours ever so lightly. “You’re trouble.”

Somewhere in the close distance, you could hear Mia’s voice. “I think they’re kissing! They’re finally together!”

You groaned, tossing your head back in a thump against your wall. “Mia, stop it!” Yoongi only chuckled, amused as per usual. This would be a reoccurring experience.

Then a question: “Do I get to call him dad number two yet?”

“MIA!”