#i sound like a broken record but i adore u and treasure ur feedback so so much it's always an honor to hear u enjoyed smth i wrote
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⧠â Ë everything has changed (besides myself)ă»l.f.
â you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.
wordsă»5.4k
pairingă»lee felix x gn!reader
genresă»babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline
warningsă»cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown
playlistă»house song by searowsă»glad by tori kellyă»let's pretend by del water gapă»you were good to me by jeremy zucker
a/nă»hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ⥠every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)
I. everything
âOne day,â you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, âyouâll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and Iâll be there to witness your downfall.â
Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.
You folded like a lawn chair. âMotherâ!â
Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.
ââoh, my dear mother, why? Why me?â
Technically speaking, your aunt shouldâve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, sheâd said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).
You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift shouldâve ended two minutes ago.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasnât too far off; you swiveled your head in the soundâs direction, sang out âcoming!â in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeolâs ankles anchoring her in place.
You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeolâs babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.
He was the most beautiful man youâd ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth.Â
Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.
The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything youâd experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the strangerâs expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words âDeath by Furious Aunt.â
âWas thatâ?â The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.
âMy fucking god,â you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.
âYou okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didnât it? Iâm so, so sorrââ
Byeol started to laugh.
Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.
This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.
âI broke my cousin,â you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.
His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.
âCan I?â He asked.
âPlease.â
Carefully, you shifted Byeolâs small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.
âHi, princess,â he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. âWhy are you laughing, silly girl?â
Oh.
Oh.
You might just continue your lineage after all.
âY/N-ie,â she answered, still tittering.
He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. âWhat about Y/N-ie?â
Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your noseâin preparation.
âP-pretty.â I knew it!
The man let out the laugh heâd been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.
âI agree.â His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. âAnd so are you.â The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.
The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didnât confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didnât know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.
He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.
âAnd âcause Iâm good with kids,â he added, splitting apart a tangerine. âSo Iâve been told.â
âOh, you definitely are,â you said, plating a couple blueberries. âYou melted her earlier.â
âShe melted me. Sheâs so cute. And youâre so cute with herâI didnât realize I was robbing someone of their job.â
You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.
âShe doesnât take me seriously, and I canât stay mad at her,â you mused. âI would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. Sheâs all yours.â
Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didnât respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.
âWill you be around much, then?â
You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, youâd been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentrationâheâd been contemplating how to best flirt with you.
âYâknow. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,â he appended.
It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. âPlease donât tell her mom.â
âI wonât, I wonât.â He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. âOn one condition.â
Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. âWhich is?â
As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.
It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted youâd let him.
âBe around,â he said simply.
It wasnât a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.
II. has changed
Felix pulled Byeolâs hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for herâshe looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.
âAnd what was the last rule again?â He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the worldâs woes.
âNo barking at other kids,â came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.
âThatâs my girl,â he hummed. âI believe in you.â
âIâll believe it when I see it,â you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like youâd just confessed to hating kittens. âCome onâshe doesnât have a good track record. Iâm allowed to have my doubts.â
âI dunno what that means,â Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.
As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.
âItâll be fine,â he soothed. âA little barking never hurt anybody, baby.â
âLix, last time somebody called animal control.â
âErmmâa little barking never hurt most people.â
That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.
Funnily enough, youâd never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase âhappy anniversaryâ on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. Youâve celebrated both days ever since.
You loved the ocean growing up. You didnât get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the waterâs very edge so that your toes dipped into the coldâand just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.
Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sunâs beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.
Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddessâ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sunâs very spots like an homage to his creator.
You didnât love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.
The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your auntâs neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies.Â
âIâll be over there,â you called after them.
Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. âYou okay?â
âYes, yes.â You shooed them off. âDonât worry about me. Go have fun.âÂ
With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost.Â
Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you couldâve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldnât yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldnât help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeolâs smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felixâs smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.
It always did something to you, seeing how good Felix was with Byeol, how good he was to her. But it was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like youâd broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of timeâs trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.
Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place.Â
The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldnât you remember where they went?
Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriendâs arrivalâthat, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.
âIâm not cut out for this anymore.â
Byeolâs neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldnât be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.
âYou know how people walk their dogs?â You mused. âSome dogs walk their people. Sheâs one of them.â
For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.
âYouâre whipped, my love. Itâs okay.â
âMaybe a little,â he admitted, suddenly perking up. âHey, no barking though.â
âAre we considering that a win nowadays?â
âDo you see animal control anywhere?â
âGood point.â
Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensuedâsaw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadnât been there before.
You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.
âAngel,â he murmured. âTalk to me.â
You shook your head. âItâs silly.â
âItâs not.â Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. âYou know itâs not.â
âItâs just thatââ
Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it couldâve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.
âI wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,â you sighed, ânot just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, Iâd still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. Iâd like that, I think.â
His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.
Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupidâs bow. A painting.
âThatâs easy enough,â Felix hummed. âHow do you feel right now?â
You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. âHappy.â
He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. âAnd now?â
âHappier.â
He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. âWhat about now?âÂ
âEven happier.â
His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.
âGET A ROOM!â
You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.
âWhere did she learnâ?â The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.
âIt had to be you.â
âOutrageousâyouâre the Australian here!â
âYou cuss like one too!â
âBecause of you!â
âSo weâre just lying now?â
âWell, yes.â
Felix cracked a smileâand then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. âWe have to do something about her vernacular, donât we?â
âOh, badly,â he replied. âBadly.â
After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. âThank you, baby.â
âWhat for?â
âBeing my happiness.â
He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasnât enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.
Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.
III. (besides myself)
Heâs blonde.
Thatâs the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your auntâs porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than youâve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.
Itâs not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. Itâs impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.
But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.
Youâre so occupied with this game of âI spyâ that you donât notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.
âIs it him?â She asks breathlessly.
You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wallâwhat did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.
You simply sigh instead. âYes, butââ
âBOKKIE!â She shrieks, and Felixâs head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.
You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.
âPut everything down. Quickly,â you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.
The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.
âBokkie,â Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.
âHi, princess.â He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. âWhoa, youâve grown strong, havenât you?â
âShe takes taekwondo classes now,â you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.
Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. âIs that true?â
She bobs her head. âI want to be like Bokkie.â
And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like heâs gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. Itâs all because of you.
âAnd kick some ass!â Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.
A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felixâs smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousinâs departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.
Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.
âHi,â he says.
You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain youâd grow old with greeting you like youâve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.
âHi,â you answer. âYou lookââ
The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.
âânice,â you finish.
ââbeautiful,â Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.
Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think heâs a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sunâs beloved sea. You canât tell if itâs his stylistâs doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.
âThank you,â you reply quietly. âAnd thank you for coming.â
âThank you for inviting me. I didnât think you would.â
âI didnât do it for me.â
No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead.Â
For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what youâre really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.
Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felixâs whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.
âHer Highness beckons.â The smile you manage feels like drying cement. âShall we?â
On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrusâno lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that itâs a stranger youâve just let inside.
That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.
Itâs clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but itâs even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. Youâve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too.Â
With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?
After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeolâs bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.
You give your cousinâs door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.
Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. âCan I tell you a secret, princess?â
This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear heâs the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. âSure!â
âPromise you wonât tell anyone?â
âPromise.â
âNot even Snernard.â
âMâkay.â
âOr Bong.â
âMâkay.â
âEspecially not Trash the chicken. I donât trust him.â
âI know, I know, I wonât!â Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousinâs plushie-naming conventions.
âThank you,â he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you donât catch the next thing he says.
All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over oneâs sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.
Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.
âWhy?â Her voice sounds microscopic.
âWell, do you remember what Bokkieâs dream job is?â
Byeol considers for a moment. âBeing a singer?â
âThatâs right.â He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. âAnd I found a place where I can do that, but itâs very, very far away. I wonât be able to come home very often.â
The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeolâs face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before itâs being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.
âNo,â she replies.
âYou've grown so much.â Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. âYouâre growing so well.â
âNo,â she repeats.
âYouâve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.â
âI donât want it,â she whispers. âI want my Bokkie.â
His vision starts to blur also. âBut you donât need me anymore.â
âWe do.â
You know the precise moment Felixâs heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.
âWe?â He repeats, and she nods.
âYour dream job is being a singer.â Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anywaysâ
âBut what is your dream?â
It becomes too much for you.
You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeolâs room to whirl in your direction. You donât care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.
You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.
Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.
You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldnât change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the worldâs most fucked-up mural wouldnât alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one whoâd asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.
But youâre not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; youâre bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish theyâd been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldnât have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.
Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.
Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.
You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and thereâs no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.
Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, âitâs you.â
You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.
âGod, itâs you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.â His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. âEverything has changed besides myself.â
Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You donât even spare the ring a glance; you donât doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.
âThank you for being around, my dream.â His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. âWill you let me do the same?â
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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
#my may :') thank u for these tags AND for how much u talked about the fic in our dms#i sound like a broken record but i adore u and treasure ur feedback so so much it's always an honor to hear u enjoyed smth i wrote#never apologize for taking a long time to read smth baby! i'm so grateful that u got around to it at all#and the moments u listed AHH i'm so glad u enjoyed them all (i liked the tanline bit a lot too heh)#love love love that u Notice everything. love love love YOU#and the 'thank you for making it a little happy' is SO FUNNY#it seems death and depression is becoming my brand... i embrace it with unadulterated glee....#anyways i love u i love these tags#endlessly grateful for the way u make me like my own writing more âĄâĄâĄ#comments <3#*w: ehcbm
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