#i’m being wry. i’m in a good mood and this kind of hunger has been missed. facetious wolf-satyr grinning and showing his teeth

[yoonia]

About Time // Part 20

➬ Character | Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 18,5k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | mentions of alcoholism, mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | This chapter took me forever to finish, but I’m glad that it’s finally out. I want to thank my girls, @randombtsprincessa and @softyoongiionly​ who have been hyping me out and yelling at me each time I came close to giving up and when I stop writing, and as always my second set of eyes, @theodea​. I hope you’ll enjoy this one as we slowly unravel the story between our characters. Please make sure not to miss the second note at the end of the chapter. Thank you!

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

Song Companion | Shah - Can't Leave You | Oleg Byonic - Wait For You

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

Subtle movements happening around me were the ones that had woken me up.

Whoever it was that had been moving around while I was still asleep, they had tried to do things stealthily, moving about carefully enough not to disturb my sleep.

But when a person had been stuck in one place for so long the way I did, their senses would easily become familiar to their surroundings the same way mine had. I didn’t need much to recognise the sounds that had been constantly happening around me, allowing me to identify the foreign ones when they appeared. I would be able to feel every movement, be it from any unanimated object or simply random movements that took place, and I could sense the changes in the air around me as it happened. So it was easy for me to catch their presence even before I had my eyes opened when they kept on moving, the low thud of their footsteps and the things they were moving around followed each move they made.

And then there were also the scents. It was his cologne that allowed me to recognise him without me seeing him. And it was a good thing too, because it allowed my heartbeat to settle down from its frantic pace and prevent me from waking up in fear, startled to find a random stranger invading my space.

I finally opened my eyes slowly. He was nothing but a blurry blob of a person moving around my room when I looked at him through my bleary eyes. The way he was still pacing back and forth around the bedside drawers told me that he had yet to realise that I was awake. So I continued watching him, blinking my eyes until the sight of him gradually grew clearer and I was finally able to see just what he was doing in my hospital room.

Of course, cleaning up my mess would be the first thing he would do the moment he got here, I wondered with a smile.

This man could never settle with a messy space. He could not even settle in patience without finding something to do, no matter how often he would complain or whine whenever he felt like he had been doing too many things at once.

I barely moved when Yoongi reached out to grab a bouquet of fresh flowers that had been left on top of the small table near the doorway. It looked new, and I had no recollection of seeing it before I fell asleep after my treatment this morning, so it must have arrived just a while ago. I saw Yoongi opening the card that came with it and tutted to himself, muttering low as he shook his head.

The moment I realised what he was saying, I could no longer stay silent. “Bastard? Did the sender really sign the card with that name?”

My voice seemed to startle Yoongi that he nearly jumped. He turned with his hand on his chest, looking almost ghastly grey that quickly faded when he chuckled. “Fucking hell, you scared me,” he said, tossing the flowers away. Though they only landed back not so gracefully on the table instead of into the trashcan placed on the floor right beside it, where he was probably aiming to throw them in before I caught him.

“Sorry,” I said, pushing myself up from the bed the best I could to sit upright while he handed me a glass of water and helped me drink. As I drank, my chest felt hollow. I had been in this place for too long that this simple gesture had become some sort of a routine. And that he had become so familiar with everything that he knew easily just what I needed. It made me feel relieved to have him with me, but I felt the guilt gnawing inside me just the same.

I hated feeling miserable and weak. And I hated it more to see the pitying look he gave me as he read me so easily. “Have you been here long?” I asked him before he ever had a chance to bring it up. Because there was no way he didn't notice it when he had grown used to my moods already. Thankfully, Yoongi had chosen not to say a thing about my condition and only shrugged.

“Not really,” he looked around, rubbing the back of his head as he followed my eyes to see the things he had been tidying up before I woke. “I wasn’t sure if it was alright to wake you up, so I tried to find some things to do while I waited. Sorry if I woke you up.”

I waved him off. “No, you didn’t. It’s just time for me to wake up. It’s almost lunchtime,” I told him, not that I was excited for lunch in any way. Not when I was not completely capable of eating properly. The blisters on my lips and inside my mouth had been increasing rapidly that I couldn’t taste anything without feeling pain. It had been coming and going, sometimes getting better after getting some vitamins or once I began drinking all those herb drinks Kara had been making for me. But whenever they came back, they always left me feeling miserable. And terribly hungry.

And hunger made me feel even more miserable.

If Yoongi had noticed the discomfort look I was making just by thinking about the food, he showed none of it. But he did scrunch his nose and gave a distasteful scoff. “You’re actually excited for the hospital food? Man, you’ve been here for too long.”

I scoffed. “Nope, I’m just excited for their pudding,” I said, without bothering to elaborate the fact that it would probably be the only thing I could manage to eat.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head almost too dramatically. “I was hoping that I could steal your pudding while you eat.”

I knew that he was only trying to make me feel better, but that was enough to have me laughing. But only for a short while, because any kind of tension happening on my torso gave me pain. As I winced, my eyes fell on the flowers he left behind. It was not hard to recognise them. Jungkook had known me for a long time to remember just what kind of flowers I loved most, and he had gotten me the same kinds ever since we had been together.

Fresh white roses, mixed with a handful of blooming white baby’s breath—just like the ones I had in the flower bouquet that I carried on our wedding day—and with a simple white ribbon wrapped around the footstalks. He had known me well enough to know that I only enjoyed simple things, and it hurt to know that he still remembered everything to the T.

I didn’t really need to ask, but I could not help it. “Those flowers—Jungkook sent them, didn’t he?”

Yoongi clenched his jaw and nodded. “I heard that he’s making amends.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, he just promised to stay around. Be a friend,” I told him, to which he gave me a sceptical look through his eyes. “He wants to be involved but not so much to disturb my life or to get in the way of my recovery process.”

Yoongi started shaking his head. I knew that I didn’t have to explain things on Jungkook’s behalf or to defend him right in front of my friend. But what Yoongi did not know was that Jungkook was not the only one making amends. If he was willing to try and make peace with everything that had been going on, then I should do just the same. It was the only way I could do to let the pain of his betrayal go away and to be able to look at my future without any resentment of the past.

It may have been far too late for me to realise it, and I hated the fact that I needed Jimin there to open my eyes, but the only reason why I have yet to be able to move forward entirely had been due to my anger. Letting my resentment grow freely inside my chest would only blind me from the beautiful things waiting for me in the future.

That is, if there was still any hope for me out there.

“I was almost sure you’re going to forgive that son of a bitch again,” Yoongi finally said with a sigh.

“Oh, I have forgiven him.”

Yoongi sat back with a jolt. “What?”

Chuckling, I waved him off. “No, I meant to say that I have forgiven him, just so we could move on. It has been too exhausting to keep being angry. If he really meant it when he said he wanted us to be friends, that he wanted to support me, then I should stop being so hostile with him. It’s actually pretty relieving to not be angry with him all the time,” I explained, and Yoongi slowly relaxed, while I had to clench my teeth together at the memory of all those passing moments we have had where we were too busy battling each other instead of moving forward. “Not to mention, the last altercation he caused had hurt Jimin. I don’t think I would have any more to give if I’m going to continue fighting him.”

Yoongi sat in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, he nodded his head after a while. “I still regretted not being here at the time to punch his face. Not to defend your boyfriend, but for stressing you out.”

I gave him a wry smile. Our relationship had always been a bit more cordial before this point, when we were just two people running a freelance business together. Back in college, he was nothing more but a stranger since we both ran with different crowds. He was more a part of Jungkook’s circle than he was in mine. But to have him on my side this time around, to have him as a part of my support system both as a friend and a second brother to me was gratifying.

“You haven’t been around much. I was starting to miss you,” I told him, making him chuckle. It was not a lie, I did miss him. His absence had never felt so strong before, but even with the overwhelming change happening in my life lately, I have missed his presence around me.

“And you really want me to believe that you actually have been thinking of me?” he jokingly asked me. “I thought you already have someone to keep you company. And I know that he’s been keeping you busy.” He said this while waggling his eyebrows, and I felt my face flushing with heat. He may not have fully supported my new relationship with Jimin at first, stating that I was risking my heart by being close to someone who was fighting the same battle as I was, but he seemed pretty okay with it now.

“What have you been up to?” I asked him. “Come on, tell me anything. I’m bored, and anxious.” Because the days were moving closer to the day for my surgery, was what I couldn’t tell him. Thinking about it only made me tremble in fear, so I tried to avoid bringing it up unless it was necessary. “Tell me that the world outside still exists.”

He gave a bitter chuckle. “Oh, the world outside still exists, all right,” he said, before he began updating me about everything that had been going on lately. Not everything in the world that I could keep up on my own through the news or the things I saw on the television, however, but the things around us that I had left behind. He updated on things regarding work, since I had left behind a bunch of unfinished projects on his hands when I got sick. I had tried my best to help him while I still could, until I had no more energy and he stopped bringing files on our projects to the hospital so he could stop me from trying to force myself to stay active.

Then he suddenly fell silent, just when I was asking him about what had been going on in his life. He looked a bit embarrassed for a moment, looking everywhere but my eyes until he finally took a deep breath and spoke.

“I’m seeing someone,” Yoongi finally admitted. “It’s new and nothing really serious yet, so Hoseok told me to take my time for myself with—you know.”

“No, I totally understand. I don’t ever want to be in the way for you or Hoseok on whatever is happening with your lives,” I told him, before realising something else. “Did you think I would say something about it? Is that why you never said anything to me at first? You know I wouldn’t, right? You’ve done so much for me. I already told you and my brother that I don’t want to have you both putting lives on hold for me. I know Hoseok is starting to.”

And I meant it. I have noticed it for a while but my brother had never wanted to talk about it. Hoseok was starting to look like he was stepping back from living his life, as he struggled to be there for me the entire time I was battling my illness, all while he was doing all he could to help me get out of my broken marriage completely unscathed.

Yoongi’s smile looked a bit sad when he looked at me. “I know you wouldn’t say anything bad. You’ve always been so great when it comes to dealing with my relationships. I think you’ve handled things better than I had,” he said with a chuckle. “As for Hoseok—He’s trying to make up for lost time. You know, for all those years he had made the mistake of cutting you off.”

Shaking my head, I refused to acknowledge it. “It wasn’t completely his fault,” I said, surprising even myself for knowing how I meant it. Through all those years we have lost contact, I did blame Hoseok for pushing me away and refusing to hear what I had to say. He was the one who had shunned me when I needed him the most, but that anger was gone now. Just like how I had forgiven my ex-husband, just how I had forgiven Kara and my father, and how I was just starting to forgive myself for all the horrible things which had happened between us in the past, I had forgiven my brother.

“Yet he still blames himself,” Yoongi said to me patiently, defending my brother. “He still thinks that he deserves to be punished for his ignorance in the past, for not being there for you until it was too late. He kept telling me how hard it has been for him to forget that fact how he had turned his back on you. That you had trusted him and he had only let you down. I think he instantly regretted it when it happened but he didn’t know just how to reach out to you again.”

“Until he met you.” I gave him a wry smile, while deep inside, I was grateful for the fact that my brother had somehow met Yoongi by chance and reached out to him so he could become the bridge between the two of us. Yoongi had no obligations to do any of that, but he did. And he had made it possible for the two of us to reconcile, even if it had come a bit too late.

An orderly interrupted our talk by entering the room with my lunch. Yoongi stood up to retrieve the tray and took his time to set up my meal for me. After a while, I couldn’t help it, I just had to ask, “Why do you take such good care of me? I mean, I’m happy that you are here and to have you as a friend and a second brother. But you’ve done a lot more. Not just for me, but for Hoseok too.”

Yoongi avoided my eyes when he returned to his seat. “Because I really care about you, ______. And you also did a lot for me when I needed help and people were turning their backs on me,” he finally said. His eyes were dark, and his pain was visible when he looked up at me. “Back then, you knew my secrets and still didn’t run away,” he said, while my memory brought me back to the past, when I had met him again after a quite some time, after he had become distant to most of the people we knew back in college. None of the people around us truly knew then that his friends had left him when things were hard for him, and I had chosen to become his friend at the time because I knew what it was like to lose everyone because of all the choices we made.

“I would never turn my back on you,” I told him, while he only gave me a bitter chuckle.

“Well, most people did. They always said it didn’t matter, but then they couldn’t look at me the same way again.”

I bit my lip when I remembered those days. Those final days before I finally left college, when people were whispering things on campus. Bad rumours had always been easy to travel quickly, especially when it came to a person like Yoongi. “Did people ever find out? I thought nobody ever clarified the rumours that had been going around at campus.”

He scoffed. “No, but it happened around the same time I began cutting back from classes and partying, so I guess people took it as a confirmation to them being true. And I had no point or a reason to deny it. Especially since when the truth finally came out, it didn’t really help much to make a difference in the situation.”

I reached out to him and grabbed his hand. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? It’s in the past and you have grown far from that. And you’ll have my back as long as you have me.”

Chuckling softly, Yoongi gave me a relieved smile as he gripped my hand tighter. “Good. Cause you’ll have mine as long as I can help it.”

My heart felt full and warm with the promise that we shared, but at the same time, I also felt the weight of guilt brewing inside my chest as I said those words to him. I was grateful and glad for our friendship and knowing that we would be there for each other no matter what cause, and I had meant every word I said. But I couldn’t help but wished that I had been able to do the same and keep my promise to someone else.

I still wished that I had been able to do the same to another person who I should have never turned my back on in the past.

—Present life. Year 2018—

Winter break had barely ended when I returned to campus at the beginning of the new year.

The cold breeze still felt so strong even though spring was right in the corner that I had to tighten my coat while I paced down the slippery sidewalk towards the rendezvous spot. Taehyung had to repeatedly look over his shoulder to make sure that I was still following him close behind and that I hadn’t slipped away without him noticing. It was partly my fault that he got worried. Simply because I kept refusing his help each time he tried to hold my hand as we walked down the icy sidewalk on our not so sufficient boots. But I also knew that he could barely hold his own, which had been the reason why I didn’t want to become a burden.

Not when I was supposed to be here to give him the support he needed.

I looked up to notice that we were getting close to the east side plaza, where the largest park in the campus’ vicinity was located and also where people were gathering for the event. Loud voices and excited chatters were heard just when we were coming up around the corner, while Taehyung’s gaze looked both amused and nervous when he looked over to me for the last time.

He waited for me right before we went there. This time, I reached out for his hand and held on tightly. “You okay?”

“Fine, just nerves,” he said, shrugging, acting like it was no big deal. But I knew him, both in this lifetime and in the previous one, enough to know that he was blanketing his emotions and thoughts from me. And yet, I only chose not to push him too much about it and tried to have him think of other things instead.

“Okay, now remind me again why we came all the way here? Classes won’t start until the end of the month,” I asked him, just when a series of laughter was heard from the plaza. “And why the hell did they choose to meet up out here anyway? It’s fucking cold.”

Taehyung chuckled as he watched me wrapped my arms around myself and tugged me to come and walk with him, huddling close to keep our bodies warm. “These people are volunteers who are interested to join the spring project. I heard that they wanted to gather as many volunteers as they could get before everyone gets swamped with classes and assignments,” he began talking as he guided the two of us to join the crowd.

As we came up to the plaza, the place had already been filled with students, all wrapped up in thick winter coats and sweaters, all rubbing their hands together to keep themselves warm. But everyone shared the same wide eyes and bright, excited faces as they waited for the event to start. Everyone was standing together, facing the stage at the center. I kept on watching the people around us as Taehyung led us to the middle ground, all while sharing everything there was to know about the event.

This project was held by the local social acts group formed by students from the Social Studies and Medical Faculty, with some of Taehyung’s seniors whom he had grown close to leading the group. They always held their annual community service to help children or elders in need, and Taehyung had been involved in them a few times through the past year that he had probably grown accustomed to all of this.

Most of the work that he had done had mostly involved children, since that had been his main interest for his studies. But early winter, he had joined the service to provide coals and firewoods for elders and poor families who lived in isolated areas. For the past year, Taehyung had enjoyed doing this service and charity work because it had made him happy, it had given him a purpose and new goals to achieve, while opening a way for his future career.

In a different lifetime, being involved with this cause had only served as a form of escape.

And it was what had brought him far, far away from me until the day the bridge between us finally burned for good. All driven from the hurt that I had caused him.

“What’s the goal for the spring project, then?” I asked him just when he found us an empty spot with the perfect view towards the stage. The cold didn’t feel as harsh now as we stood between these people, but Taehyung still wrapped his arm around my shoulders and held me close to keep me warm.

“That’s what we’re all here for. The group always chooses their project from the ideas that they collect from their members or other volunteers, then chooses a captain to lead according to what kind of social service or charity they are doing. They haven’t decided what they were going to be working on this spring. Looking from all of these people gathering here, I’m guessing it’s going to be a big one. They’ve never had this many people being interested to join.”

“Maybe this is for the project that you wanted to sign up so badly before? The one they said they were going to send volunteers to the southern hemisphere?” I asked him, reminded of his wish to join the volunteer work that may give him a chance to travel to places while continuing his study.

Taehyung shook his head. “I don’t know. It could be. They haven’t really announced anything for that one either.”

I was about to say something, asking him more about this group and the organisation behind its cause, when a few people stepped up to the stage. One of the female leaders took the microphone and began to greet everyone who was present, applauding people who had come even in the cold. But I barely paid any attention to a word she said when I followed Taehyung’s gaze and saw him standing there with the other members of the volunteer group.

“There he is. Namjoon is always there with them. He’s been made captain on the last few projects that we’ve worked on,” he said, sounding almost distractedly as he watched Namjoon conversing with his friends on stage. I had to admit, the man really was attractive. His whole presence oozed confidence and his demeanour showed me that he was a smart man. Smart enough to be extremely persuasive. A dimple showed on his face when he smiled, and his laughter echoed through the stage, almost rivalling the MC’s voice as she continued to speak.

“Has he approached you yet?” I asked.

Taehyung shrugged. “He’s been a bit friendly, but that’s about it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To make sure that you would have someone to remind you to consider things before signing up?” I turn to look at him, waggling my brow to tease him a little.

This time, Taehyung turned to me and snickered. “Well, you know what they said. The only way for someone to avoid getting swayed by a handsome looking guy who happens to be an extremely persuasive man is to have your childhood crush standing right with you.”

“Whatever you say,” I said, chuckling as he tightened his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Neither of us said a thing as we listened to the MC spoke, before she finally handed the microphone to Namjoon, who became the one to talk about the project and let the volunteers learn more about the system, the plans, and how to sign up.

We shared nothing more but a bittersweet feeling while we were entranced as we listened to Namjoon speak, holding each other the way we never could in another life we shared.

We didn’t only come here to admire this man or to only see what today was all about, but to simply find answers. To slowly connect the dots and put the puzzle pieces together to fill the blanks, just so we could lay down every part of that other lifetime for us to understand where did everything went wrong.

There had been parts of the past, faces and names of the people that had become a part of my previous life that I could not recall or draw from my jumbled memory so easily. I may have seen or felt their presence in those memories, but some of them had appeared in my dreams merely as blurry shadows, faceless figures, people whose voice only came to me as if they had been submerged underwater.

Kim Namjoon was one of the missing pieces of the puzzle that had caused a rift in my friendship with Taehyung in another lifetime. In my memory, he was nothing but a nameless shadow, one that I feared and hated almost as much as the painful parts I shared with Jungkook from the past life. It took Taehyung finding him to help me remember everything—who he was, what he had done, and everything that happened then—all the broken memories had been unravelled the day Taehyung had first introduced me to this man sometime last semester.

And the reminder of who he was had come in the right time, because he had already become a part of Taehyung’s life through these activities he had been involved in. Because just like how it happened in the past life, Kim Namjoon was the one who had convinced Taehyung to join their movement.

The only difference now was that Taehyung had me by his side. That Taehyung had not been wounded when they first met.

In the past life, Kim Namjoon had come into Taehyung’s life when Taehyung needed someone to look up to, when Taehyung needed a friend and guidance while I kept on pushing him away, leaving him in the blind and completely alone. In that part of our lives, the man had come in at the right time, right when my best friend was completely vulnerable. And he had eased his way in so easily, filling the void in Taehyung’s life, saying all the right words and showing all the right things to have Taehyung follow him wherever he would go. What had started as a good cause to give Taehyung a purpose in life, it had ended leading him to get involved with the bad crowd, to join the bad business that Namjoon was secretly building behind his gentle smile and manipulative ways of making people around him feel special.

Taehyung had loved him with his wounded heart, and he had given the man everything. Only to have Namjoon suck his heart and soul dry, before tossing him away once he was done with him.

And I was not there to catch him when he fell.

“So what do you think? Are you going to join this one?”

The gathering event had ended two hours ago, and now we were heading towards the coffee shop where I had been working part-time for the past few months. Taehyung had insisted to walk me there despite his dorm being located in the opposite direction, saying that he was worried that I would slip if I had gone alone. After all the trouble we had by walking through the icy road and the slippery sidewalks this morning, I had no reason to argue. And I also knew that he only wanted to spend some more time with me before he had to leave for his part-time job, so I just let him be.

Ever since we watched Namjoon’s speech, Taehyung had been left in a daze. He had always reacted this way whenever he saw Namjoon. I was never quite sure whether it was due to my warnings regarding the man or if he had truly developed some sort of a crush or perhaps grown the same hero worship that he had for the man the same way he did in the different lifetime.

“I’m not sure yet,” he finally said. “Even if the cause is going to be just around the city, I don’t think I can make it if they’re starting around the same time my classes are starting over.”

His reasoning had made complete sense. But deep down, I also knew that he was lying. He was conflicted. I could feel it. And he was trying so much to hold back from whatever it was that had been bothering him.

Once Namjoon was done with his speech and the event presentation on stage, he had come down to approach Taehyung while the other students had started lining up to join the cause. He had pulled us both to the side, persuading us personally.

“It wouldn’t be as tiring as the one we did last time. We’re only visiting some of the schools at the neighbouring towns. We’re going to give classes, lend some care for the kids, do some health check-up, while the group from the Engineering Faculty will be there to help with technicalities, like building new facilities or fix old structures that didn’t survive the winter,” Namjoon had told the both of us, pretty much summarising his own presentation on stage to make sure that he would point out all the compelling factors to appeal Taehyung. “You’ve always enjoyed working on any causes that involve children, so I’m sure this would be perfect for you. Not to mention, we’ll be getting extra credits for each movement we make this semester with the faculty supporting us through funds and getting us sponsors.”

I could tell that he was getting through to Taehyung when I saw my best friend watching him with wide eyes. But I had been focusing more on Namjoon, letting my own curiosity and wonder get to me. And for someone who appeared so open, so enticing, and one whose main job was to approach people, Kim Namjoon was hard to read.

My memories of him had been nothing but scraps. It had seemed that in my other life, I had no opportunity to know him in person as he was merely a part of Taehyung’s world once our friendship fell apart and we became worlds apart. This time, I had more opportunities to know this man in person. Still, the only things I had come to know about him had only come from Taehyung.

The only thing I knew about him was that he was a year senior from us, focusing on Medical Studies to become a neurosurgeon. He was a brilliant student, had always come with the highest grade in his year, and he had been active in great causes to help people.

None of that information had ever told us the reason why everything fell apart for Taehyung when they began doing all of their causes together. We only knew that in the past life, Taehyung had gone away with him to a place far away, never to return until everything had been much too late. We just never knew when and how, and I knew that this was the reason why Taehyung had been so afraid to take the risk.

“Remember what you said to me back then, before I met Jimin? Back when I was too scared to even go out and have fun?” I asked him as we continued to walk in silence. The coffee shop had appeared on sight, so I knew that this would be the only chance I could ever be able to say this.

“No, I don’t. What did I say?”

I turned to him. “You told me to be cautious, but not too cautious that I don’t get to live and enjoy the present,” I said. “I know you’re worried about the risk of getting close to him without knowing what exactly happened to you in the past after you got together with him, but I know that you enjoy doing these things. So just go for it. If you do it, I’ll be there to join you so you won’t have to be there alone.”

Taehyung smiled at me as he listened to my promises. I could tell that he was relieved to hear it. “You would?”

“Didn’t I promise that I would never let anything come between us? Not this time,” I told him, reminding him all the promises that I had made back then when we found out that one of the many reasons why our lives had fallen apart was because neither of us was there for the other.

I had made a promise that I would never let that happen again. That I would never let him stray away from my life. No matter what. In a different life, I may have left him to fend for himself. This life had to be different. This time, we had each other.

“Right, okay,” he said, nodding to himself while sighing deeply. The frown that he had carried with him ever since we left the campus’ plaza disappeared when he looked at me. In its place came a smile, and a pair of eyes so bright it made me believe that he would be able to conquer everything if he wanted to.

“Thanks for coming with me this morning,” he said, giving me a side hug as we continued our walk.

“You know I don’t mind it. We haven’t been spending too much time together lately,” I told him as I leaned to him.

For the past few months, both of us had been busy focusing on our own lives. While my relationship with Jimin was blossoming, Taehyung was busy tackling different challenges in his life. We haven’t been spending a lot of time with each other the way we used to aside from the time we spent when we went back to our hometown together during the holidays, yet another reason why I had wanted to do this with him.

Despite our busy lives, things had been completely different still.

At least this time, he was still there, and he had yet to disappear from my life. Even if we couldn’t see each other, all we needed to do was to pick up the phone and we would be there for each other even through the distance.

“We’re still on for tonight, right?” he asked me just as we arrived at the coffee shop.

“Absolutely. Are you picking me up here once my shift ends?”

“Yeah. I might stop by at the library to drop some books, but I’ll come to get you right after,” he said, before giving me a hug as he said goodbye.

“Alright then. See you later.”

I stood in front of the coffee shop for a while longer, watching him walk away until he disappeared right around the corner on his way to the daycare center he had been working at. The coffee shop wasn’t too crowded when I walked in, with the majority of the students had yet to return on campus after the long winter break.

But that soon changed the moment my shift began, right when the rush of the lunch hour started. Students and workers from the nearby offices came in, forming a long line only minutes after I had taken over the cashier. The rush lasted for a little over an hour, much shorter than the regular hustle that would no doubt begin the moment the next term started at the end of the month.

Even if I had been out and active since early morning, I served the patrons with a smile on my face. Before I knew it, the line of customer started to dwindle. By the time I served the last patron, my back was sore and my legs were tight, but something was telling me that I wasn’t supposed to take a break yet. So I stayed behind the counter while my co-worker for the day—the only one there since many of the other staff had yet to return from their holiday—turned to ask if he could take a quick break while there was no customer coming in.

“I’m going to take a quick smoke break, is that okay? We can switch once I’m back,” he said, already in the middle of untying his apron to avoid getting some smoke on it.

“Sure, no problem. I got it handled.”

I turned back to check on my phone once he was gone, taking my time to reply to some messages that I got from Jimin who was asking about my day and my plans for the night. I had just pressed the send button when the bell at the front door chimed behind me, but it took me a few seconds too long to put my phone away before a deep voice called out.

“Excuse me. Can I make an order?”

I turned around to greet the new customer. But the moment I saw him, my body went frozen stiff and my head began to spin.

I had never met this person before. And yet, I remembered him.

Each time I tried to reclaim my memories, there was a void where someone was supposed to be a part of. There was a presence that was constant in almost every part of my painful memories. Yet aside from everyone that I had remembered so far, this person had always been nothing but a shadow, a faceless entity that was there, but never completely solid.

But the moment I saw him standing there, right on the other side of the counter, waiting for me to take his orders, his face brought all the missing pieces together. All the blurry images I had been seeing in my dreams came to me in flashing moments, so quick, so random, but far more clearly than how they all had been. His face filled all of those empty voids. His face, his eyes, his small smile, they replaced the faceless man who had been there by my side through all of the hurt, through all of my journeys.

In those dreams, in those flashing memories that I had been getting, I could never see the face of the man who was holding my hand while I was fighting for my life. And at that moment, as I was looking straight into this customer’s eyes, his face was all I see being there by my side.

He was there.

He was always there.

“Um—hello?”

The man waved his hand right in front of my face with an amused look, snapping me right out of my stupor.

“Oh, uh—yes, hi. Sorry, what can I get you?” I questioned him, unable to hold back the nervous chuckle that came bubbling out. Thankfully, he only smiled.

“I’ll have a cup of espresso and a bagel,” he said, only after taking a moment perusing through the menu placed above the counter.

My fingers were shaking when I was placing his orders into the cashier machine, so I kept my eyes down to make sure I wasn’t making a mistake. “Right. To go?”

He hummed softly and looked around. “Um—no, I think I’ll take them here.”

“Okay,” I said, taking a moment to finish up his orders. “Thank you. You can take a seat or wait on the counter. We’ll call your name once your order is ready.”

“Yeah, okay. My name is—”

“Yoongi,” I blurted out before he could even finish. For some reason, just like how his face filled all the missing puzzle, his name just came into my head as if I had known him my whole life.

When I saw his eyebrows came up to his forehead, I knew then that he was just as surprised as I was. “What? Have we met?”

“Um, well—” I began to stutter while my brain seemed to just stop working indefinitely. So I only said the first thing I could think of as an excuse, “You’re pretty well known. I mean, my friends know you. I just suddenly remember your name.”

Well, at least that was not a complete lie. I was pretty sure that perhaps some of my friends would know him, and I did just remember his name.

He looked at me with a frown, not looking entirely convinced, but he said nothing of it when he handed me his cash to pay for his orders. “Right, well. That’s me. I’m Yoongi.”

“Of course,” I said, avoiding his gaze as I put his money in. “I’ll call you when your coffee is ready.”

His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, filled with curiosity and probably a bunch of other questions, but he only nodded. “Thanks,” he said to me as he walked to the other side of the counter, leaving me feeling lightheaded.

Everything seemed to be colliding together right at the same time. The final missing pieces of the puzzle were coming to place one at a time. As if the whole universe was trying to shove everything to my face, though I really had no idea just what it was trying to tell me.

—Present life. Hot and Spicy Grill. Year 2018—

As promised, Taehyung had picked me up at work right the moment my shift was up.

There was nothing much to say between us as we drove away in his small city car from the coffee shop, since I was still trying to process the shock of having the unexpected meeting during work earlier while Taehyung seemed like he was having his own turmoil to deal with. He was silent during the drive, looking distracted but thankfully not enough to derail him from driving the car properly. But his silence had made it hard for me to question it when he suddenly started leading the car away from the campus grounds and he kept going further until the car entered the freeway.

It took a few turns before the sight around me changed, the suburbs getting further away behind us, when I finally grew wary and curious that I simply had to speak up. “Are you sure we’re still going to dinner? You’re not planning on kidnapping me, are you?”

Taehyung’s eyes grew wide before he chuckled. “Sorry, it’s a surprise,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t go crazy and take you to any place with no civilisation like what Jimin did.”

Smiling, I looked away from him when my face began to flush. I had told him once about the surprise trip that Jimin had taken me to—which I had to spill because I had completely forgotten to call him back that night after we had just parted way minutes before Jimin came to pick me up. I had told him about how Jimin planned out an outdoor picnic with a thousand stars above us and the view of the valley everywhere I looked, though I had to skip telling him about the ‘dessert’ Jimin gave me under the same stars which had sent me flying to heavenly bliss.

Judging from the sly smirk he was making now, I supposed he had made his own guess to what had happened on the date once the food was left forgotten.

As I looked out the window, I finally realised that he was right. He was not taking me towards the same area that Jimin had taken me to. On the outer lane of the freeway, I saw buildings and dense trees instead of hills and valleys. And to my relief, what I was seeing was the kind of trees I would normally see packed up in the city. The lanes were getting more and more packed with cars as we went further, so I wasn’t quite surprised to see him turning to the exit heading downtown.

“Sorry for the long trip,” he said. “I just found out about this place a while ago and wanted to check it out. I figured if I want to take anyone here to try it then it should be you since we haven’t done this for a while.”

“Aww—that’s so nice that you’re thinking of me. You are truly the best friend every girl needs. The man after my own heart. Or, in this case, stomach,” I teased him, earning his laugh.

It didn’t take much longer than fifteen minutes after we were out of the freeway before he pulled into a small spaced parking lot, and my gaze fell on the small restaurant that seemed like it had only opened pretty recently. “Is it a barbecue and grill place? Awesome!”

“Figured you’ll love it,” he said, turning the car engine off. “Let’s go before the place gets packed with the dinner crowd.”

It didn’t take us long to be seated. But Taehyung was right. Not too long after we made our orders, more and more people started coming in and the place was full within minutes.

“I hope this place is good. People keep talking about this place so I bet these people came from everywhere around the city. I don’t even doubt that we would see some familiar faces from campus,” Taehyung told me after taking a quick look around.

“I’m really hungry I can eat anything at this point,” I said, smiling at him. It really didn’t matter where we were or if the trip here had been worth it. It was spending the time with my best friend during all of the things that had been going on in our lives which I had been most excited about.

The tables around us had started grilling and Taehyung seemed giddy in his seat, looking excited as he looked at the meal with a deep longing in his eyes and he licked his lips at the roasted beef cooking beside us. This was something that I had missed, enjoying our time together and to see him loosening up. Each time we were together, I would look at him and wonder how we ever came apart.

How much different was it back then between us compared to us now? Would we still have this if I had never learned all the mistakes we made in the past life?

Taehyung was picking on the welcome snacks when I felt my phone vibrating in my bag. Remembering that I had promised Jimin to text him the moment Taehyung had succeeded in picking me up at work while he couldn’t, I pulled out the phone and smiled when I noticed that he had messaged me first.

From Jimin: Hey, babe. Are you out with Taehyung?

From Jimin: I’m taking a break atm and I thought about you. Hope he didn’t decide to steal you away from me :(

A smile came to my face as I was reading through his messages. I could picture him sitting down in the middle of his dance practice, all sweaty and breathless while he was typing these words. My heart jumped and it made me realise how much I missed him, even if we had only been apart for a day thanks to our schedules.

To Jimin: I’m safe. He’s not kidnapping me or whatever, but you did give him an idea of taking me far away from campus

From Jimin: Sorry, my bad :p

To Jimin: How’s practice?

From Jimin: These guys are relentless. I’ll probably wake up all sore and bruised tomorrow

To Jimin: But you love it

From Jimin: I do :)

To Jimin: What time will you be done?

From Jimin: We’re doing one more round of practice then I’ll be on my way home

Home. The way he had said it made my heart stir. Ever since we became official, Jimin had repeatedly asked me to move in with him. But I have yet to give an answer, thinking that perhaps things had been going on too fast. If there was anything that I learned from putting all the pieces from my other life together was that moving too fast could lead to a disaster.

Would I dare risk it and say yes? I knew that it was something that my previous self—the other ’me’—had wished for. I saw her dreams as some broken fragments of memories in my dreams, had even mistaken them as actual memories until I managed to decipher them as parts of imaginations instead, and many of those images had shown me various types of white picket fence houses. The settings and everything else around them would be a blurry mess and they had kept changing each time they came to me, but there had always been one part of it that had been consistent, an invariable factor from all of these dreams—Jimin.

“Is that Jimin?” Taehyung questioned me the moment he noticed the expressions I was making as I was messaging my boyfriend back, not realising that my mind had started to wander. “Is he still at practice?”

Putting away my phone, I smiled at him. “Yeah. That’s him. He was checking on me. Kinda. I told him that I’d be with you while he’s busy with his dance.”

Taehyung tilted his head. “Doesn’t he bring you to his practices?”

“No,” I said, snickering to myself when I remembered how adamant Jimin had been to stop me when I insisted to come to his practice. “Jimin said it’s better for me to just watch the actual performance. I think he’s still a bit embarrassed to show me all the process behind his work.”

Taehyung chuckled. Shaking his head, he only commented lightly, “He probably didn’t want you distracting him. Or worse, have his friends coming on to you while he’s busy dancing.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Both of us knew that Jimin had a bit of a jealousy streak, but not so much that it made me feel suffocated just to be with him, or to feel like I was constantly walking on eggshells. The only way he had been showing it was to playfully complain or he would sometimes poke fun on me, acting sulky but never too much.

There was only one person in this world who could tick him off the wrong way. And honestly, Jimin was not the only one who was against this same person.

Looking up at Taehyung, I realised that he had never been kind to each time Jungkook’s name was mentioned. Out of everyone in my life, he was the only person who knew why I had to stay away from Jungkook. He was the only one who had heard all the stories, everything that I remembered from the other ’me’ and all that I felt when the memories returned.

Just like how I was the only person who knew what would happen to both of us if we would ever make another mistake.

Taehyung glanced towards the table next to us one last time, growing impatient while he was completely oblivious to where my mind had been wandering to. Watching him like this reminded me of how distracted he had been when he first came to pick me up, suggesting that something must have happened to him between the moment when we parted ways to the time he came by at the coffee shop. I had been waiting for him to talk about it, only to have him constantly acting as if I had yet to notice his odd behaviour.

“So how was your day?” I finally asked him when his gaze turned blank and he was suddenly becoming more interested in the paper napkin which he had placed on his lap. “You haven’t told me much about your work and your trip to the library.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

That got me raising my brows. It was becoming more obvious to me now that he was trying to avoid talking about it. “Really?”

Taehyung looked up to me, pressing his lips before he released a defeated sigh. “I hate you,” he said, catching me off guard before he suddenly chuckled. “I hate that I can never lie to you.”

Smiling to him, I merely shrugged my shoulders the way he often did. “We’ve been friends since forever. If there’s one person in this world who knows you better than yourself, it would be me,” I said teasingly, before I added, “Second to Hoseok. Sometimes I wonder if he’s secretly your brother, not mine.”

Taehyung chuckled at that. There was no lie that he had come to grow close to Hoseok as we grew up together. Our friendship had started from a play date held by our Moms that happened when we were kids, only because our houses were located in the same block and I was the only one in the neighbourhood who was at the same age as he was. Then our friendship grew in elementary school when we promised to have each other’s backs, and we stayed close as we kept on going to the same school, doing the same things together growing up, then he stayed with me when I got sick and while I was recovering in the hospital years ago. But, as a boy, he had looked up to Hoseok as if he was his own older brother, and Hoseok had taken a liking to him especially because he had always wanted a brother.

“True. Though he wouldn’t be subtle if he wants to know stuff about me. He’d probably be snapping at me—Come on! Spill!” Taehyung jokingly imitated Hoseok’s tone of voice, which made me laugh when I saw his face and I could actually imagine my brother’s voice coming out of him.

“Seriously, though. What is it?” I asked again before he ever had a chance to change the topic around and avoid answering your question. “You came to the coffee shop looking like someone had just hurt your dog. And you’ve been pretty quiet when you’re not talking about this place and the food.”

Once again, he pressed his lips together. “Nothing much, really,” he started, though he suddenly grew restless in his seat and he began to look away, finding it hard to look into my eyes. He suddenly seemed nervous, yet I still felt a hint of relief when I didn’t see any guilt in his eyes, it would probably be worse if he was hiding something big from me.

“It’s just—” he said, clearing his throat. “I stumbled upon Namjoon at the library earlier.”

“You did?”

Are you sure that he was not stalking you? —Was what I had originally wanted to say, but I kept them to myself.

Taehyung looked down briefly before facing me again. “Right, so—he kept on asking me to join the cause and the rest of their spring activities cause they needed more people. Then he started asking me about my classes, the professors I’ve gotten this semester, before he suddenly asked if we could grab a coffee sometime.”

I blinked. He had spoken so quickly during the last part of his sentence that I wasn’t sure if I was hearing things right until it finally clicked for me a few milliseconds too long. “He asked you to go out for coffee?” I asked, to which he nodded. “Like—casually? Or—”

“Like—he just literally said, ‘Hey, why don’t we grab some coffee sometime and talk more?’, in a friendly kind of way,” he said, imitating Namjoon’s voice in his own way.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging sheepishly. “I was kind of shocked and he only patted me in the back and walked away.”

I blinked again. “Funny how he seems to insist having you around a lot,” I muttered, before looking at him suspiciously. “He even came to you this morning while the gathering was clearing up. And you said he wasn’t interested to make a move on you.”

The waiter came in just then to drop our drinks and Taehyung took his time to take a sip of his cold beer before answering, “I don’t know either. He didn’t seem like he even noticed me that much in the past year.”

“How did you feel about his offer then?”

He raised his brows. “How I felt? Well—I certainly didn’t have all the goosebumps, the fireworks, or my heart beating fast cause I have no jumbled memories mixing in between the good and the bad, so—”

“Hey, watch it—” I warned him while pointing a straw at him. “No, I’m just asking cause it seemed to bother you a little.”

“It’s not. It’s just—” he seemed to contemplate his answers for a moment, like he was trying to find the best way to explain his trail of thoughts even while he was having trouble understanding it himself.

“I guess I was just wondering, why me?” he finally said. “I mean, I kind of understand why he would be approaching me—another ’me’—in the alter life. It must have been compelling to come on to someone who seemed broken and lost and I had probably seen him as my saviour, the light of my life after the darkness, the white knight.”

His overly dramatic expression had you raising your brows. “He’s kind of a heartthrob too.”

“Yeah—” he hummed. “I won’t even deny the fact that he’s attractive. But normal me? This me? I wouldn’t have picked him as the type of guy I’d be dating if I would—” he stopped and started glancing around, as if he was afraid that someone might be listening in. “You know.”

And I did know what he was trying to tell me. For someone who had been open about his sexual preferences, he was still wary about the world around us, not too sure on how they would perceive him.

He leaned back on his seat when he added, “He seems so put together too. But after knowing what would have happened if I had just let things be, I can somehow look past his false act of composure and find him seem a bit unhinged.”

“Seriously?” I questioned him, laughing. “Unhinged? Have you been reading criminal fiction novels in your Psych classes?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I laughed at him, but then stopped myself as I watched him closely. While a part of me was relieved that he believed me enough to tread things carefully, I was also feeling the guilt for allowing him to build his own boundaries by giving him all the warnings on what was supposed to be our future. Even though he was giving it the best he could, I still worried that he might not be living his life to the fullest potential just because he was afraid to make any decision that could lead to the end of our friendship.

Taehyung looked at me when I fell silent. “What? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Sighing, I had no choice but to share my thoughts on this. “Just wondering if I’ve made the right decision on letting you know about your supposed future. What if my memories had been wrong this whole time and it wasn’t Namjoon that I saw? What if he’s just a good guy with his mind on his good cause who happens to have an innocent crush on my best friend?”

Taehyung seemed to ponder on it briefly before shaking his head. “I’ve been talking shit and making long speeches about you risking things by not staying away from this dude who had supposedly ruined your life and your trust to other human beings—”

I rolled my eyes. “His name is Jungkook.”

But he continued on, ignoring me completely. “—so I’ve decided not to risk mine. Second chances, remember?”

His words made me stop. I bit my lip and nodded. “Second chances.”

Taehyung gave me a grim smile when he nodded back, but it also appeared to me that there was a huge weight being pulled away from his shoulders. As if being honest with each other had been freeing for him, something that I was feeling too.

Noticing that our meal order had yet to arrive at our table, Taehyung looked around and pushed himself out of his seat. “The food’s going to be here any minute but I’m going to need the restrooms. I’ll be right back,” he said, before he left his seat to make a quick run to the restrooms at the back.

I watched him leave just in time for my phone to vibrate in my hand. I looked down, opening the messaging app immediately for thinking that Jimin had texted some more before his practice would start again, only to stop when I saw Jungkook’s name flashing on the screen instead.

From Jungkook: Hey, I hope I’m not texting you with your boyfriend around :p

From Jungkook: It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at the pub

From Jungkook: Is everything okay?

Biting my lips, I looked over to where I saw Taehyung had disappeared to and breathed a sigh of relief that the message had come in while he was gone. Taehyung would have only needed to take one look at my face before he would start asking questions, including why I had been texting with Jungkook from time to time.

To Jungkook: everything’s fine

To Jungkook: Been a bit busy, that’s all. How are you?

From Jungkook: doing okay

From Jungkook: I’m finally back on campus and I just got my schedules at the pub. Will be performing on stage next Friday night

From Jungkook: Will you come?

I lowered the phone to my lap, having no idea how to respond. While most of our texts had been about keeping up with each other’s lives, there had been a few times when he would invite me to his show at the pub. I had only come to watch him a couple of times, most of them without even saying hello to him directly and leaving before giving him a chance to sit with me. I knew it was wrong to keep in touch and talk to him like this after what I had promised my best friend before, but it had not been easy for me to ignore him.

And he was not someone who would give up so easily either that ignoring his text messages was never a choice. Not when he would often try to find me or even call me until he could talk to me.

From Jungkook: ________?

Another message came in, letting me know that he was waiting for my response. Biting my lip, I pondered over the options. What was I supposed to say? And would he be happy to hear what my answers if I had refused to come?

And why on earth was I already wondering what clothes to wear for the night at the pub?

To Jungkook: Sorry

To Jungkook: I’ll try to be there. What time?

From Jungkook: the second stage of the night. 8 PM

From Jungkook: I’ll be waiting :)

Reading through his response, my stomach turned and my chest grew tight with guilt. There was no way out of this now. And I really had no idea what I was doing either, knowing that Friday night would be the night I would usually come to stay at Jimin’s place so we could spend the weekend together.

“Fuck,” I cursed at myself, before tossing my phone into my bag to avoid looking through his messages again.

The meal we ordered had just arrived at the table when Taehyung returned, with the waiter apologising to the two of us repeatedly about the long wait, explaining to us overwhelmed they were as the restaurant was a full house for the night. As Taehyung returned to his seat, the waiter walked away from our table, and my eyes were drawn to follow him as he weaved through the floor between the tables to return to the kitchen area.

That was when I saw him. His head bobbing over the other seated guests as he walked across the room until he found the table that seemed to have been reserved for him.

“What?” Taehyung questioned me when he noticed, his voice drawing my attention when I was still looking far away. “What is it?” he asked again when he got no answer, then he began looking around the seating area to find what I was looking at.

“I saw someone. From campus. Though it seems a bit odd that he had come all the way to this place to eat,” I said, disregarding the fact that it had been the same case for us since Taehyung and I had driven far to be there too. “There, he’s on the table at the corner. Wearing a black shirt and a black cap.”

He followed the direction I was subtly pointing to, taking a few seconds before his eyes grew with recognition when he finally found Yoongi at the other side of the restaurant.

“You know him?” he asked, raising his brows at me when he turned to me again. “I thought the only people you know on campus are just me, Jimin, and his cousin.”

“Ha, ha, funny,” I sneered at him while rolling my eyes while he enjoyed having been able to mock me about it. But then my eyes went back to his table, seeing Yoongi with another man who looked like him, but a bit older.

“He came to the coffee shop earlier today on my shift,” I told him, finding him looking at Yoongi again as if he wanted to make sure. “You know who he is?”

He turned back to you with wide eyes. “Min Yoongi? Everyone knows him. He’s pretty popular among the frat boys. He’s always leading his friends on the stuff they always organise in their frat houses, though he hasn’t really been in the scene that much lately.”

“And you have?”

He scoffed at me. “Hey, unlike you, I still have a reputation to uphold,” he teased me, snickering when I gave him a scowl. “My dorm mate gets invited to their parties a lot and I always go with him when I can.”

I looked over to Yoongi again, noticing the broody look that he was wearing even as he was chatting with his companion. His brother, more likely, since they looked pretty similar from this distance. Except that when Yoongi was wearing a dark shirt, his brother was wearing something lighter and a bit too formal for a grill house. “So, why hasn’t he been around?”

“Seems like he’s graduating this year, and rumours said he had already taken a job at his brother’s company so he no longer spends much time on campus unless necessary,” he explained slowly before he began glancing around warily the way he did previously. “But, um—there’s also this rumour going around.”

I snapped my head to look at him. “What kind of rumour?”

Taehyung took another quick glance at Yoongi before leaning closer so he could whisper, “Someone said they caught him kissing a TA. A male TA. It happened at a dorm party.”

My eyes grew instantly wide and I had to lean closer as I whispered angrily, “And people just—what? Stay away from him?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it seems like his friends are beginning to dwindle. I don’t think it’s because they’re afraid of the repercussions from sticking around or if it’s because there’s a possibility that he’s queer if the rumours are true, it’s just—” he swallowed hard, looking sympathetic as he glanced one more time towards Yoongi’s table before looking at me again, and I knew that the look he was giving me was there only due to the fact that he had once been in his shoes. “He’s been hiding this for so long, if it’s really true. Maybe they’re just pissed cause he’s been keeping a secret. You know how those frat boys are, they hold secrets like a treasure.”

They sure did.

Because according to one of my strongest memories of all, one of the biggest secrets that had been painful enough for me to remember from my past life was how Jungkook’s friends had also had a hand in hiding his sins from me.

Shaking my head, I chose to look away from Yoongi. “Still seems so stupid to just turn their backs on him like that just because of some rumours,” I wondered out loud, when the bitter truth of how he was left abandoned by the same people who were supposed to support him through it truly sunk in.

“It makes you think. Doesn’t it?” he asked me, though it sounded more like he was wondering out loud just like I was.

“About what?” I asked him.

“How you can’t always depend on others to stay in your life forever,” he said to me with an as-matter-factly tone, though it also sounded bitter, because he had experienced it too. Meeting his eyes, I was suddenly glad that I had been able to show him that he deserved the kind of support he needed too.

As we continued with our dinner, talking about all the silly and mundane things from our daily lives, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought still hanging in the back of my head. Too many coincidences happening on the same day. Right at that moment, just when I recounted that I had met Yoongi coincidentally twice in the same day after not being able to remember him for so long, something in my head clicked.

I just didn’t know what to do about it. And I had no idea how I could make it all possible to even happen.

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

As the final weeks before the surgery slowly started creeping up on me, I was slowly becoming a complete nervous wreck.

The fact that I was having an on and off fever also did not help my case at all. I was feeling like crap, was constantly exhausted, without knowing if the reason I kept on falling asleep was due to the overwhelming dose of painkillers that still remained in my blood or if my body had succumbed to the lingering pain that had only been intensifying, as if the masses in my body knew that they were about to be torn to pieces and they were giving their last fight.

My family, which mainly included Hoseok and Kara with the additional help from Yoongi, had been coming and going to stay with me and nurse me whenever needed. I knew that they were trying to ease my mind by staying positive whenever they were around, lifting my spirit while distracting me with things that they knew would make me happy. They would do everything they could, from bringing me movies, books, sometimes food or snacks that I could take without breaking the doctors’ rules and ones that I could swallow easily, to telling me stories or life updates that would be able to stop me from thinking about all the negative things I was facing.

But as the days were coming closer to the day of the surgery, not a single thing could help ease my mind. It was then when I finally realised that the fear had never truly sunk in, and it was only then that my brain was finally processing the fact that I was about to face a high-risk procedure that—according to some of the things I had been reading while I was preparing for it—also had a high chance of failure. And every illusion that I had let itself grow inside my mind, the false hope and optimism shattered like a glass wall and I was faced with the reality that perhaps all of what I was about to go through would be nothing but a fruitless attempt of getting me out of my bind.

It was even worse because I also knew that the people around me were doing all they could to hide the fact that Jimin had been absent.

The emptiness I felt without him there had seemed like a void, a black hole that was growing larger inside me, as if it would be strong enough to swallow me from within. That was when I realised how much I needed him, and I could never imagine how life would be if I no longer had him by my side.

The last time I came to see him, he had been recovering from a long day of tests and treatments, and I had stayed in his room until he was feeling better, only after I had made sure that he was strong enough to go through the days without constantly being under watch.

Not too long after we parted ways, I was getting prepared for the surgery that I was no longer allowed to leave the room or to roam the hospital as freely as I had before. Though the reason why I had not been able to come and see him was not only due to the restrictions given to me, but also because my body had simply given up. I had no energy, and the pain was getting too unbearable as I was getting less painkillers to allow my body to take in more of my new meds.

The last time I saw him again was when I was under heavy medication. I was having a high fever that day and I heard his voice talking to my brother and the residing nurse to ask about my condition. I felt him holding my hand and kissing my forehead each time I woke up, barely able to speak, but seeing his face through my bleary eyes felt like a breath of fresh air. When I woke up feeling much better later that night, he was no longer there, but his warmth remained.

The only thing that had been making me worried was knowing that there had to be a reason why he had yet to come and visit me ever since. In other—more regular—days, he would appear in my room to each time I was unable to visit. He had also promised to stay by my side through this surgery, and yet, only a couple of days left and there was still no sign of him, letting me wondering if there was something wrong.

“I can check on him if you want,” Yoongi finally offered after noticing how anxious I had been the whole day. He must have caught me glancing towards the door even as we were sitting there, watching the movie playing from his laptop together. Perhaps he knew that my head had never been on the movie, just like it had always been.

I looked at him and sighed. “Could you?” I finally relented and asked him. “I asked Soyeon about him but she didn’t say much except that Jimin is still recovering. We text at night before bed, but he’d never answer when I ask how he’s doing.”

Yoongi simply nodded. “You know, it’d probably be easier if you guys just share a room together, huh?” he wryly said.

“I wish,” I chuckled, rolling my eyes before I realised just how tempting the idea had sounded. “Is something like that even possible though?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I’ve heard of family members or spouses with terminal illnesses being put together in the same room, but I don’t know if it’s possible on your case. I could have Hoseok or Kara to ask around. They’re the ones who are listed as your family.”

Shaking my head, I turned to look at the laptop again. “I don’t even know if Jimin would agree.”

“I’m sure he’s just as devastated as you are that he can’t come to see you.”

“You really think so?” I questioned him, finding him frowning when I looked up. “Thanks for trying to lift up my spirits. I feel like you’re treating me like I’m your teenage younger sister or something.”

Looking at me, Yoongi merely scoffed. “I never had any teenage younger sister to take care of so I wouldn’t know.”

When a visitor finally came by to my room later in the night, it was not Jimin.

Yoongi was putting his coat on to leave for the night after staying with me all day when Jungkook appeared in the doorway. There was another bouquet of white flowers in his hand—the same as the ones he had been sending me every day—and a deep scowl on his face when he exchanged gazes with Yoongi.

Yoongi clenched his jaw, obvious enough to show his dislike at Jungkook’s appearance. He didn’t even bother to greet my ex-husband as he turned to me. “Do you want me to stay a bit longer?”

I looked back and forth between them, only to have Jungkook looked away when I met his eyes, though his gaze softened just a little when he saw how uncomfortable I felt at the tension that was rising from them together. Sighing to myself, I could only choose to diffuse the situation by letting Yoongi go on his way.

“It’s okay. You have that date to go to and it won’t be long before Kara gets here anyway,” I told Yoongi, though it was clear that he didn’t exactly enjoy accepting my choice.

“You sure?” he asked again, to which I only nodded. He came to my bed while shaking his head, but he chose not to say a thing when he kissed my forehead aside from telling me to call him if I needed anything. “Promise me to let me know if anything happens.”

“I promise.”

He gave me a final nod before turning to the doorway, where Jungkook was still standing. Both of them stood facing each other for a few awkward seconds before Jungkook finally stepped aside to allow him to pass without saying a word to each other.

The moment Yoongi left, the air between us rippled into a different kind of tension. When it was only between him and Yoongi, all I could feel was their rage, their hostility against each other. But now, as Jungkook was making his way slowly towards the bed, there was a sense of awkwardness that grew between us.

Only a year ago, he was the only man that I had ever loved. Though our marriage was not perfect, he was still a huge part of me that I called home, no matter how lonely that ‘home’ would feel like at times. Tonight, it felt like he was a stranger. There was still a pull inside my chest that felt so tight I could hardly breathe, but it was not enough to have me opening my arms to welcome him with a warm embrace.

Jungkook looked around the room with a wry smile on his face. “You’ve kept the flowers,” he murmured softly as he saw all the white flowers that still remained, finding each one being kept in different vases in all sizes before looking back at me.

“Kara and my nurse, Soyeon, took care of them. If the boys had been the ones who received them, they’d end up somewhere else,” I told him with a chuckle, choosing not to tell him that there had been some that had only ended being tossed into the trash. Mostly on Yoongi’s doing, because Hoseok had always opted on passing them on to the other female nurses who had slowly grown into becoming his admirers.

Jungkook nodded as he listened, and I noticed that his grip on the bouquet had somehow tightened. “May I?” he asked, pointing at the empty chair next to my bed which Yoongi had been using all day.

“Sure,” I said, as I watched him take his seat.

“Here, these are for you,” he said to me as he handed the small bouquet of white roses to me, forcing me to peel my fingers away from the sheets that I had been clutching tightly ever since the moment he appeared at the door.

“Thank you,” I whispered. My fingers felt cold when I took the flowers from his hands. My skin crawled when our fingers touched. It was an odd feeling, when in the past, each of his gentle touches would be able to send my heart racing and my body would shudder in pleasure. It truly felt like he was no longer a part of me, as if the years we shared together had been a distant memory that was no longer mine.

I instantly pulled my hand away and kept the flowers on my lap. I didn’t miss the way he flinched when I avoided his touch, nor did I miss the look of hurt and disappointment that lingered in his eyes when he saw me clutching the flowers tightly on my lap, as if I was using them as a shield to protect me from him.

“How are you feeling?” he finally asked after a brief moment of silence. He cleared his throat and blushed when he noticed me looking up. “I, uh—I heard the surgery is in a couple of days.”

I nodded. “Two days,” I said, and my heartbeat accelerated almost immediately. He must have noticed it when my skin blanched, when the rush of panic came over me.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” I quickly told him. “It’s just that it feels surreal, dealing with it. I still haven’t completely wrapped my mind around it. It felt like a long time ago when I agreed to go through with it, so I’ve tried not to think about it too much. But then, suddenly it’s only days apart.”

Jungkook nodded as he tried to understand, and the concerned look on his face remained. “You’ll get through this just fine, I know it.”

I looked up, giving him a small smile. “How can you be so sure?”

Pressing his lips, Jungkook avoided my gaze for a moment. “Because you’re strong,” he finally said to me. “You’re always the stronger one between us. You’ve gotten through everything and still came out of it in one piece, whereas I could only burn things to dust and destroy everything I touched.”

Shaking my head, my words slipped out of me before I could stop them. “Not everything.”

His gaze found me, looking surprised to hear what I said, while I had to look away when once again all of the good memories that we had shared together went through my mind. My fingers clenched tighter around the flowers when I wondered just how everything fell into pieces, though what was left inside me was nothing but a numbing rage, when all the hurt he had given me had seized to give me pain since a long time ago.

Jungkook shifted in his seat, pulling my attention back to him. He was still avoiding my gaze, giving me a chance to finally take him all in. There were a lot of changes going on with him. He had always looked pristine, even when he was hiding his pain inside him. But there were also those moments in time, especially while we were battling for our divorce, when he looked terribly broken. He had stopped taking care of himself, leaving his hair constantly messy and his face looking dark and gloomy. I remembered seeing his eyes red and swollen, with deep, dark bags under them growing darker each time with all the sleepless nights he went through and all the drinking that he had resorted to just to escape from everything.

Now, he had looked much better, making good of his words to take care of himself while I was battling my own illness. His body had grown toned and broader, a sign that he had reserved back to working out and eating healthy again. His eyes were much brighter than how I had seen him last, as he had promised me time and time again that he would stop drinking so he could always be in his clear mind while he was supporting me. And then I caught the sight of his hair, looking thicker and longer as he styled them to the back of his head.

“You look good,” I said, making him look at me again. “Healthier. And you’ve kept your hair longer.”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Not on purpose,” he admitted with a shrug. “I used to have my wife reminding me to go to the barbershop. Sometimes she would do it herself, have me sit down in the kitchen as she would cut my hair for me. Now, I can’t even decide what style of hair to choose for myself because I’d never know what would look good for me.”

I looked down just as my eyes started burning. There was nothing I could do to stop the tears from building up, threatening to flow like a river.

“Sorry, fuck—” I heard Jungkook’s voice cursing at himself before he leaned forward, catching my wrist and holding it gently in his hold. His thumb began rubbing gently on my skin and the dam of tears just broke apart. “I really need to learn how to shut up, but I just cannot help myself.”

I laughed nervously, though they came out with a round of sobbing when I continued crying. It took a moment before I calmed down. As much as I hated to admit it, the way he was softly holding my hand truly helped put myself together.

“I do miss you. That’s not a lie,” he whispered softly, meeting my eyes when I looked up. He reached out with his free hand, brushing my tears away. “You might not see it, but it feels so empty without you. I tried. I promise you, I have tried. Not to move on by seeing anyone else, because other women always remind me of you, but I try to live my life the best I could, to take care of myself the way you would do it for me, but nothing could fill up the empty space you left behind.”

Shaking my head, I tried to pull away from him. “Jungkook—”

His grip tightened, and he refused to let me go. “No, I’m not doing this to beg you to come back. I swear. I just want to tell you how I feel before I’d explode.”

Drawing a shaky breath, I tried my best to calm my heartbeat before I looked at him again. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

Jungkook looked at me for a moment longer then nodded his head. “Sure,” he said, before he proceeded in telling me things about what he had been doing lately. He made me laugh when he talked about meeting up with his friends, reuniting with his mates from college and spending the whole night playing pool.

“No, I didn’t drink,” he said to me when I asked him about it. “Been sober for almost six months now. There’s no way I can break that promise to you now,” he added, making me smile wider with relief brewing in my chest. “Eunwoo got a bit crazy though. Seconds after he agreed to join me on the next AA meeting, he ordered a full bottle of a 12 years-old Macallan and finished almost three-quarters of it on his own.”

“And the only thing you drank was Coke?”

Nodding his head, he smiled proudly. “Yes, Ma’am. I was on my best behaviour the whole night,” he said, and I felt instantly proud of him. The feeling was bittersweet, however, because I couldn’t stop wondering what our lives would have been like if he had as much control back then when we were together.

“I’m glad,” was all that I could say to him. “I’m happy to know that you’re living a better life.”

Pressing his lips together, he reached out to grab my hand. “And you are going to be there to continue watching me as I make better changes in my life, so you can witness me as I grow to be the man that you can feel proud of,” he said to me, and another set of tears escaped from me. Tightening his hold on my hand, he reached out to my chin and turned my face so I could look at him.

“Listen to me. You’re going to get through this, be stronger and healthier. I know you would. I know it’s scary, but I’m here. As much as I want to beg for you to come back to me, the only thing I need for you is to fight a good fight. We’ll get through this, and we will both have a much better life. We’ll watch each other as we both move on and find our happiness, to make the most of the rest of our lives, whether we’re doing it together or apart. Okay?”

At this point, I was a sobbing mess. The fear was still clawing from within. But his words gave me a new strength that I never knew I could still feel. It probably wouldn’t be enough to make sure that I could make it through, but it was enough to help me look at what was beyond me with a different kind of light.

As I looked into his eyes, I found a new kind of calmness that I had thought I had lost. What I saw in his eyes then would never be the same as what I had seen from him in the past, when he was the reason for me to carry on. But for now, this was more than enough. Taking one last deep, shaky breath, I looked straight into his eyes and nodded. I knew it was wrong to take comfort from the same man that had caused me a lot of pain, the same man that had also caused all the darkest times of my life.

But I knew that he was right and I needed to engulf myself in the comfort of his warmth just as long as I could find strength in them. No matter how scary it would be, I knew that I had to fight it. I needed to. And I had to survive through this no matter what.

“Okay.”

Jimin finally came to see me on the last day I had before the surgery.

It only took waking up to his smile to feel like I was coming alive again, even though I had to take a moment to make sure that I was not dreaming, that he was actually there.

I looked over his shoulder, noticing that the sky outside the window was still dark. the sun had barely come up, which meant that he came in way before the first round of nurses started. On the couch across the room, I saw Kara still deep in her sleep. She had come around the time Jungkook was ready to leave last night, and she had stayed all night to keep me company.

Out of everyone, Kara had been the one who would stay with me overnight. She has admitted once that she was worried that I would feel lonely should I ever wake up in the middle of the night without anyone by my side.

Another reason for her to stay was because of the memory we shared about my Mom. At one of the conversations that we have had where we talked about my mother, I had told her about the late-night phone calls that my Mom made while she was ill. Her eyes instantly lost their light, knowing that one of the many reasons why my mother had been left in the hospital all by herself during those times were because of her. Because my father had chosen to spend the night with his mistress instead of staying by my mother’s side.

“I would remember her whenever I think about you sleeping alone at night in this lousy hospital, afraid and lonely,” she said once after she had asked for a cot and an extra blanket for her to sleep in. “I won’t be able to sleep well at night when it happens. Take it as my redemption. I can’t change the past, but I sure as hell won’t let the same thing happen to you.”

Gentle kisses along my knuckles brought me back to the man sitting next to my bed. Jimin smiled at me when I looked at him. He had my hand in his grip, his lips pressing on my skin as he trailed soft kisses that sent delicate shivers through my body. His touches were enough to warm me up against the cold air conditioner blasting in the room.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, making sure to keep it down so he wouldn’t wake Kara.

“Morning,” I answered him, still completely in a daze as I took in the sight of him. “You’re really here.”

His gaze softened as he gave me a wry smile. “I’m sorry that it took me so long to come and see you again,” he said, and only then did I realise that his voice was hoarse and weak, hidden in his whispers.

And then it took him pulling away for me to notice everything that I had missed—the wheelchair he was sitting on, the thinning hair under his beanie hat, the bags under his red-rimmed eyes, the sunken cheeks, the blisters on his lips—and my heart dropped.

“Jimin—” I choked, to which he quickly pressed a finger on my lips to stop me from talking.

“Sshh—I know, I look like hell,” he said, chuckling softly. Though the sound immediately turned into a set of coughs until he managed to take a deep breath and hold it in. “And I’ve been through hell.”

My eyes burned with tears, but I did all I could to stop them from falling. Yet I couldn’t stop myself from questioning him, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone—”

“Because I didn’t want you to worry about me when you already have so much to worry about on yourself,” he said to me with a sad smile. “I asked the nurses to not tell you anything. I couldn’t leave my room and let you see me when I was at my worse. You need to focus on yourself, on what’s happening tomorrow. I should be the last thing in your mind to worry about.”

Shaking my head, I leaned towards him and let him took my hand in his once again. “It’s not fair.”

He smiled at me and said, “It’s only fair. I shouldn’t be in the way of your recovery.”

“You never were. I need you, and I want to be there to support you too.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here now. I’ve done all I could to get strong enough to be here today so I could see you,” he said, pulling my hand in his so he could place my palm on his cheek, giving me a chance to feel him. “You know that I will always be here to support you.”

“Always? Promise?” He only answered me with a nod of his head, but it was enough for now. “Can you stay here with me?”

Jimin glanced over his shoulder and tipped his head. “Will your guardian let me?”

I looked over to Kara’s sleeping form and smiled. “She has to.”

And indeed she did. Kara knew how much I had missed Jimin and how his presence helped make a lot of changes that she even let Jimin use the cot that she had neglected the night before so he could rest once in a while. Even the nurses had come to let Jimin take his medicines without him returning to his room.

“Told you that things would be easier if we had just been placed in the same room,” Jimin joked at Soyeon when she came into the room while shaking her head at him. His comment surprised me as I had never thought he would even consider it.

“You asked them for a room transfer?”

Jimin shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Hey, I tried. I’ve thought about it ever since you got sick from your trips down the halls at night to see me.”

I looked at him, not believing what I just heard. Never once in my mind I had considered it possible for us to share a room that I had pushed away every hope of making it happen. I was completely speechless that all I could do was hold his hand. It was Soyeon who spoke next, breaking the moment we were sharing.

“If you want, I can submit another request once you’ve gone through the surgery,” she said, while Jimin and I exchanged looks.

“Can you do that?”

Soyeon glanced at Kara who was now giving her a hopeful look and smiled. “I can ask your doctor to have permission for transfer,” she answered me with a wink.

“If Doctor Kim agrees, then it’ll leave only one last hurdle that might get in the way,” Jimin said, breaking whatever spell we were in before either one of us even had a chance to celebrate the possible good news.

“What is it?”

Jimin gave me a sad smile and said, “Your ex-husband.”

It was finally the day of the surgery.

Everyone had been here with me since this morning, waiting in the room with me. While my anxiety had peaked through the roof the day before, I was surprisingly calm ever since I had woken up this morning. Meanwhile, everyone else seemed to be on the edge since the moment I woke up and it even got worse when the nurse came in just one hour before I was supposed to be taken to the operating room, handing me the last medicine for the day.

The frown on Hoseok’s face kept on slipping out no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind his smile. Even the years that had passed during the period of time when we fell apart couldn’t change the fact that I knew my brother. That I would be able to catch on to his emotions so easily despite his efforts of hiding them from me.

He was not the only one who was restless, as Yoongi kept fidgeting in his seat. He had been silent all day, tension continued to roll out of his shoulders as he sat with Hoseok across the room.

As I was forbidden to consume any food or water, Kara found nothing to do to distract herself and she had opted to stay by my side. I had to respect her for trying her best to stay calm, though the moment she held my hand and she started praying for the two of us, it almost felt like I was the one calming her down until her fingers stopped shaking.

“It’ll be okay,” I finally said to her when she gave me yet another forced smile the moment our eyes met. But everyone in the room knew that I was speaking for all of us, especially myself, when I added, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Jimin came to my room just when it was almost time for me to go. He came in on his wheelchair, with Nurse Soyeon pushing him into the room. Everyone instantly stepped aside to give us space, allowing Jimin to settle down next to the bed, where he took my hand to hold and he could lean in just close enough to give me a kiss.

“I’ll be here until the moment they come to pick you up,” he whispered to me between his gentle kisses, then gave me another promise before he pulled away, “And I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

After that moment, time seemed to stand still. Neither of my family dared to speak, afraid that any word they said would burst any bubble that we found ourselves in, to allow the reality to sink in and take over the serene feeling we were having. But they kept hovering around me, making sure that I was calm and ready, though I felt more numb than I was probably supposed to.

It wasn’t until the moment when Soyeon returned with another nurse from our floor, pushing a gurney into the room with the help of an orderly, when the silent tension in the room broke apart.

“It’s time,” Soyeon said to me with a calm voice that did nothing to stop my heartbeat from pacing rapidly in my chest. Jimin must have sensed the change in my mood, because he immediately pulled me to him and held me tight, whispering sweet words to calm me down.

“It’s okay, baby. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes and focus on me,” he kept telling me, making sure that I followed his words until I was breathing calmly again.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I nodded at Soyeon after giving Jimin one last kiss and sending one last smile to my family.

As everyone stepped back and I was carefully transferred from the bed to the gurney, the numbness returned to me and I let myself to be engulfed in it. Even the pain that came piercing through my spine during the transfer couldn’t snap me out of it. The sense of calm felt even stronger as Jimin grabbed my hand and gave me one last squeeze only moments before the orderly began pushing me out of the room.

“I’ll come with you,” I heard Hoseok said, as if watching me leave the room had snapped him out of his trance and he quickly rushed to walk alongside the gurney as we left our family behind. The last thing I saw when I took one last glance was Yoongi placing his arm around Kara’s shoulders as she cried soundlessly, and Jimin smiling at me as he placed his palm over Kara’s hand that was resting on his shoulder.

The trip from my room towards the operating section on our floor felt like an eternity. I barely paid attention to our surroundings as we made a few turns down the hallways, focusing more on my breathing pattern as I kept myself calm, until I suddenly saw him standing not too far from the doorways leading to the operating area.

“Jungkook,” I called out to him as the gurney slowed down to a stop right where he was waiting for me. He nodded briefly at Hoseok before he turned to me, giving me a warm smile despite the way his eyes were watching me closely as if he was afraid I would disappear.

“You came,” I said, and he nodded.

“I decided I’d wait for you out here so you could have a moment with your family,” he told me, and my eyes moved to his hands, where I found yet another bouquet of white flowers, and his smile widened as he followed my gaze.

“These flowers will be waiting for you in your room to greet you once you return,” Jungkook said, before he leaned down, pressing his lips on my forehead as he whispered. “You’re going to be alright.”

His eyes were glassy with tears when he straightened up, but he forced himself to smile as he brushed gently at my cheek for one last time before he stepped back, allowing the gurney to pass. I kept my eyes on him until I could no longer see him, and Hoseok pulled my attention right before he had to let me go.

“We’ll be waiting for you out here,” he said to me while squeezing my shoulder gently. I could tell that he was trying his best not to cry in front of me, so I put on my brave face and smiled.

“Make sure to buy me some of my favourite ice creams when I come back, will you?”

He nodded and chuckled softly. “I’ll fill up the fridge with them for you.”

“Ready?”

The nurse that was going to assist the surgeons was the one I was not familiar with, but she was friendly and nice that I stayed calm despite the complicated preparations that would have scared me away. I already felt slightly intimidated just minutes ago, when I was pushed into this room with only strangers standing around me. But the thought of my family who would be waiting right outside those doors, and knowing that Dr. Kim would also be here to assist the procedure, all had done more than calm my nerves that all I had to do was wait until this moment would come.

“I’m going to put this mask on you. Just breathe in normally, and you will feel sleepy in no time. Just don’t panic, and focus on counting down or just think of good things, okay?”

“Okay,” I told her, nodding my head before I let her put the breathing mask on my face.

She gave me a smile that was hidden under her mask as I settled back down on the bed, while she carried on with the preparations, helping the surgeons and welcoming Dr. Kim as he came into my line of sight.

His voice was calm, but I barely paid attention to any word he said to me as he introduced the other doctors that had come in with him. I only responded with a nod to each time he spoke, until he instructed me to continue breathing as the only thing they needed to do was to wait until the anaesthetic drugs they had given me would take effect.

Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion afterwards. It felt as if I had left my body and I was watching things unfolding from the outside looking in. I followed the nurse’s instruction as I began breathing normally, taking deep breaths while counting down slowly, until I started to feel heavy with sleep. It didn’t take long until I finally gave in as there was never a fight in me to stop me from getting under, and I felt myself drifting away merely seconds after.

That was when everything happened.

They had all said that when you went under, your whole senses would not be able to tell you about anything happening around you, leaving you completely oblivious to what they were doing to your body.

That was not what seemed to be happening to me.

My senses were completely numb, but I was still there. I was still present. My body was no longer moving, but I was terribly aware. A thick blanket of darkness folded around me, cloaking me from the world that still existed around me. I had lost the ability to feel a thing. There was no pain, not a hint of the slightest of touches they made on me, but I knew they were all there.

My mind registered their presence in the form of shadows. Looming, hovering, moving around me while I was rooted as their center. I could feel their movements even through the fog of darkness, but I could feel none of their touch. I heard nothing but a steady hum, drowning me deeper into the darkness, though some of the voices I heard made it seem more like I was drowning underwater.

And then it happened, and suddenly, I could hear it all almost too clearly.

It started with a steady beep, before it began to rise, sounding louder by the second, and then it went faster. The humming sound around me began to rise as well, growing steadily intense. They sounded almost similar to voices of people shouting, only that everything was muffled, like everything was happening under the current of water. The beeping noise grew louder, breaking through the fog, and then louder, turning into an alarming sound as the shouting continued.

An odd feeling of chill washed over me.

And then everything went still.

Author’s note:

I’m sorry this took a long time, and I know that you must be hating me for that ending lol

Don’t worry, every single question you may have at the moment will be answered soon. We’re so close to the final chapters and I am terribly nervous about it, not going to lie. But, before we can finally get there, we’ll be having an extra chapter coming in the way.

Yes, your requests have been answered. We’ll be getting into Taehyung’s side of the story on the next chapter before we can find more answers to what had happened to all of them in the past.

Stay tuned for the next update. Thank you for all of your support!

—  © 2021 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[navigatrixnarrations]

Sometimes Always, Chapter 1: Thieves Alley

The first chapter of a canon divergent kind-of fix-it set after Season 3 as encouraged by @whenimaunicorn. The beginning looks familiar because I posted it as a WIP, but it continues.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and profanity

Words: 2034

Charles Vane once heard that a man can only truly possess that which he cannot lose in a shipwreck. For all the times he’s had to run with nothing but his life in his hands, and those times are many, this most recent is the hardest to bear.

The late autumn sleet beats against the drafty window of his rented room by the wharves. Nor'easters, he learned these storms are called, blowing in off the Atlantic, bringing traffic in the harbor to a standstill and turning the muddy streets into debris-strewn rivers.

Until recently, he spent his entire life in the heat of the West Indies. New York City is cold and unceasingly raw. Its damp chill seeps into his bones and makes old injuries ache damnably. Vane finds himself taking a liking to these storms anyway; they match his mood.

Perhaps he should head to the tavern where he works instead of huddling by the small fire trying to ignore the past. The tavern owner is a freedman, known to give a hand to other former slaves. All Vane had to do was show the brand on his chest and scowl a little, and he was given a job as a bouncer. The irony of it: Charles Vane, notorious scourge of the seas, reduced to breaking up drunken brawls and preventing grown men from pissing on the floor under an assumed name. Still, he’s alive and free, right under the noses of the fucking English…

He’s definitely being followed. He dislikes being followed. He turns to see that several of the tavern-goers are coming toward him, an assortment of weapons in hand. He dryly thinks that times must be hard indeed if they intend to rob him of his pay; split several ways it wouldn’t even be enough for a mug of ale each. A pistol goes off, grazing a leg just barely recovered from the last time he was shot, and Vane staggers. His attackers are nearly upon him when a slightly-built figure leaps between them. A low-pitched female voice, an oddly familiar voice, calls out something in what Vane recognizes as Dutch. There is laughter from the others, and they withdraw.

The woman approaches, her hands empty, reaching down to assist him. He gets the impression of large eyes in an angular face, a dark coat wrapped tight against the mist. Is it? Can it be?

She looks at him as if seeing a ghost, albeit a ghost with whom she is slightly cross. Then she remembers herself. “Charles.” Her expression turns wry. “Did I hear them refer to you as ‘Mr. Thatch’ back there at the tavern?”

He checks her face for any sign of fury, and sees none. “I can’t very well go by my own name now, can I, Miss Teach.”

“It’s Mrs. Sullivan now. And no, I suppose you can’t. I’m sure my father wouldn’t mind you using one of his last names; you’re more his child than I ever was.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, without bitterness.

He forces a levity to his voice that he does not feel. “So you married Sully? How is he, anyway?” At least she wedded a brave man and a kind one.

She shuts her eyes slowly, shakes her head, then reopens them. “He’s been dead three years. Took a bullet to the head in a raid.”

“Margaret, I’m…”

“Save the platitudes, Charles. They don’t suit you.” She looks tired, her eyes far away. “He was right beside me when it happened. He died free and he didn’t suffer.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he possibly say to that. Memories of the three of them as teenagers, skylarking in the rigging of the Revenge. Vane was the strongest, Margaret was the fastest, and Sully, well, Sully was acrobatic and fearless. And Sully made her laugh, something she did far too seldom. Vane envied him that ability.

She turns her sharp gaze back to him. "If you’re wondering what I said to your new friends back there, I told them that while it is clear that the only thing you use your head for is growing hair, entering Thieves Alley alone as you did with a pocket full of coin, it would be cruel to deprive you of it."

In spite of himself, he huffs out a short laugh. She’s studying him, and he thinks she sees the question that he cannot bring himself to ask aloud. I missed you. Did you miss me?

“My last words to you were cruel.” She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “I regret them. I’m glad I have the opportunity to tell you so.” Why did I get you out of there if you’re going to go do her bidding, be her attack dog? She doesn’t love you, Charles, she’s incapable of loving anyone. And now you’re walking right back into another kind of slavery and it was all for nothing. If I never see you again, it will be too soon. She jumped into one of the longboats and never once looked back at him as the men rowed it out to the ship. He wanted to call out to her to stay, that he changed his mind, but youthful stupid pride made the words stick in his throat. In the end he watched her climb the rope ladder to the Revenge, watched her sail out of Nassau Harbor, watched her disappear over the horizon...

Vane holds her gaze because he’s certain that she would not welcome him holding her body. “Everything you said to me was true, though I couldn’t see that at the time. You had every reason to hate me.”

Margaret tilts her head to one side. “I never hated you, though I tried. Never even resented you, really.” She sighs. “I resented my father for wanting a son so badly that he all but ignored me once you arrived, and I resented the hell out of myself for trying so hard to win his approval.” She pauses. “You’re shivering.”

He starts to deny it but Margaret rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, I know, you’re tougher than the rain and wind and you’re made out of pain and hunger, but you’re not dressed for this climate. Let’s get you in front of a fire. I didn’t come to your aid yet again for you to catch consumption in fucking stinking Thieves Alley.” Vane knows better than to argue with her when she takes that tone.

He falls into step beside her and follows her through a series of alleyways, up some back stairs to a garret. It’s two rooms, sparse but clean, a fire burned down to embers in the small hearth. She drags two chairs and a small table closer to the fireplace and gestures for him to sit while she sets about stoking the fire. He finds himself admiring the quiet confidence with which she moves, the deft precision of her hands. That hasn’t changed. The wooden chair feels like heaven after a night on his feet, and the fire quickly warms the small room. He slouches back and stares into the flames while Margaret bustles around, hanging her coat on a peg, boiling the kettle. Unconsciously, the fingers of one hand worry at the scar on his neck left by the hangman’s noose. It’s slight, but it’s there. In most ways he’s recovered from his brief hempen jig. He can sometimes go hours without thinking of it, but there will always be reminders. Much, Vane muses, like his years sailing with Edward Teach and daughter.

Everything hurt. The latest flogging from the taskmaster tore his back open from shoulder to waist, and he could barely stand. His whole body was wracked with fever. He heard a girl’s voice, and a man’s voice, both unfamiliar, distorted-sounding, and then he was being carried. He must have lost consciousness; when he came to, the whole world was swaying and he heard the creaking of boards, waves lapping against the...hull? Why was he on a ship? Had he been sold again? And then a girl about his own age was looking down at him with a grave expression, her hair in a braid and her big eyes curious. “Where am I?” he asked her. “You’re on the Revenge,“ she said, and, seeming to intuit his next question, she added “you’re free now. We’re all free here. We’re pirates.” There was pride in her voice and her posture at that last. He later learned he was free because Margaret Teach talked her father into taking him with them.

In the silence that has fallen between them, his stomach growls. He tries to ignore it, but she’s heard. She fetches bread and cheese from a box on the windowsill, a bottle of rum, and a pair of dented tin mugs into which she pours tea, putting it all on the table between them.

That’s what seemed off. She’s wearing a dress, and it’s all wrong. It flatters her well, but it’s all wrong. A proper pirate like her, dressed like a merchant’s wife.

Margaret raises an eyebrow at the look on his face. “It isn't poisoned, Charles” she says dryly as she pours rum into her tea. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now. I wouldn’t waste good rum.”

He takes the offered bottle and adds a heavy pour to his own tea, then takes a sip and lets it burn all the way down to his belly. “Thrown your lot in with civilization, have you?”

“No.” Her knuckles whiten on the edge of the table and she scowls. “I fucking hate it here.”

He reaches over and places a hand on hers, and is gratified when she doesn’t pull it away. “You’re like me, Magpie. We belong at sea.”

“We do.” Her voice is quiet, wistful. “Nobody’s called me that since Sully died.”

Sully grinned at the way Margaret's eyes tracked the doubloon that Vane set dancing back and forth across his knuckles. “You’re a magpie, that’s what you are.”

“ What’s a magpie?” she asked.

“Very clever little bird, a bit like a crow. They’ll steal anything that catches their eye, especially if it’s shiny, and they’ll have a go at birds of prey many times their size. They live in England.”

Margaret curled her lip. “Fuck England.”

“Fuck England,” Sully agreed. “Rest of it suits you, though.”

Vane thought it was apt for the clever dark-haired pirate girl. His fierce little Magpie.

She turns her hand over in his and gives it a brief squeeze. “I don’t mind you calling me that.” They finish their meal in silence, but it almost feels like the silence of old times. As in old times, it’s easy to fall back into task organizing without needing to discuss it much; he clears up the remnants of their meal while she makes up a cot for him near the hearth.

He hadn’t expected her to invite him to her bed, not really; she never did in the past, and the disastrous choices he made when he was a young man likely destroyed any chance of that in the future. They’re no longer children with a habit of falling asleep in a pile among coils of rope like a litter of alley cats between their watches. But now, all these years later, they’re reunited. It will have to be enough.

From the other room, he hears a sob, quickly stifled. Vane knows Margaret doesn’t want him to know she’s crying, perhaps wants it less even than he wants her to cry, yet how can he ignore the pain she’s in? He tries her door, only to find she’s bolted it from within. He returns to his cot. Eventually sleep takes him, and by some mercy, he does not dream.

[cloudbattrolls]

Sleep With One Eye Open

Notes: Vernrot belongs to @raitrolling! 

Thrixe Varzim || 11.5 sweeps || Vernrot || Present Night

It’s the night after you made it to Vernrot, threw that obnoxious cusp into the harbor, and slept over at Lusien’s hive. But you need to stay at a hotel the rest of the time; you won’t trespass on his hospitality like that. Plus, the more time you spend around him, the more risk he’ll see you as...never mind. You need to be practical, figure out which QPIN contacts need to be checked on, which trade channels might need extra muscle -

“Stop.”

Your fins twitch in recognition, despite your attempts to stop them. You know that hard feminine voice, and you wish you didn’t.

Slowly, to emphasize your complete lack of eagerness to talk to them, you turn to face the two women who’ve apparently followed you here. Unless you’re just that unlucky. 

Neither are tall, one olive and the other yellow. The yellowblood’s short horns are covered by her curly hair, her skin slightly darker than yours and her eyes serious above her grimly set mouth. The olive wears a grin that could seem innocently eager to a troll who’d never met her before, her short straight hair barely reaching past her large, round ears. Both are dressed simply in gray and black clothing, breath from their warmer bodies turning to fog in the cool air.

It was Zelist who spoke to you, and she does so again.

“It’s been long enough. You haven’t contacted us once since you left Derevnya. Our scout observed you coming here of all places. Why?”

You stare at her, annoyed even though you know you shouldn’t be. 

“What are you doing in this town if not pest control, Varzim?” Purrs the oliveblood, now holding a long, sharp knife coated in some sort of glistening substance.

You never much liked Marisa; you don’t think most trolls do, even in her cult. Maybe it’s something about how she always smells of the undead.

Sure enough, Zelist glares at her sharply. “Give him a chance to explain.” She says, voice hard, but her eyes are on you and her suspicion is plain.

“I’ve tried to fight the horrors here. I never made any progress. So I gave up; they’re not actively hurting people, at least. Vernrot is…” you wave a hand vaguely. “Stable. Even if it’s not the kind we’d like.”

“That’s complacent talk, Varzim.” Says Zelist, arms crossed. “You could’ve asked us for help.”

You give her a look, fins twitching as your mouth curls in disdain.

“You people don’t do subtlety. I didn’t want to attract attention.”

She shakes her head, gaze detached but disapproving like one of your proctors would’ve been and for a moment you feel a flicker of guilt. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should have talked to them, asked them for help...

“We let ourselves be corrupted before, but things have changed. We keep an eye on the other cults now, regulate summonings and artifact use. Everything is getting better. We should be allies, Varzim. We have the same enemies.”

Are the horrorterrors here your enemies?

Of course they are. All horrorterrors are anathema to trollkind. Different faces of the same incomprehensible forces, unable to understand trolls or respect their wellbeing. Too strange and terrible to bargain with.

But the ones here didn’t attack you unless you did first, and when you apologized how Lusien suggested, they went away...

No, you still can’t trust them, you decide. Horrorterrors are always bad.

Still, you trust the blueblood even if he’s wrong. You trust him because he’s the best thing that ever happened to you. 

Even if it treats him badly, Lusien doesn’t want you to hurt Vernrot.

“Maybe we should work together.” You admit. “But I can’t attack this town. I mean, I’ve tried - I think if we threw more at it it would retaliate harder than we can hit. If we find a way to remove the horrorterrors here it can’t be with any collateral damage.”

You remember Sayamh, but push the memory away. He was too far gone to save, the undead wretch. He was better off as bullets.

Zelist purses her lips and Marisa laughs before speaking in her mocking tone.

“So soft you’ve become! I wonder why. Is it ‘the town’ or someone in particular? Something in particular?”

“How dare you.” You say softly, baring your fangs at her implication. “I would never be friendly with a horrorterror. I’m thinking of all the trolls here. None of them have any idea what’s happening! They wouldn’t understand what we were doing. They can’t see it even when it’s in front of their faces.”

Except one, forced to witness it alone as everyone thought he was insane. 

“Then they’re better off purged anyway.” retorts the yellowblood dismissively. “If they’re so oblivious, they could enable the forces here by accident and let something out. The risk isn’t worth it. So help us, Varzim, prove all our suspicions are baseless. This can be easy and straightforward. We can all go hive happy.”

She holds out a hand to you, eyebrows raised.

You believe her. The lowblood is a lot of things, but unlike the olive she’s a woman of her word. She’s practical. Her goals make sense.

You shake your head anyway.

“No. You’re going to fail and this isn’t my fight. I’ll find other terrors to destroy.”

Zelist and Marisa exchange a look, and with a sigh, the yellow hands the green some caegers. The latter pockets them, smug as a satisfied meowbeast.

“Don’t bet against me.” Purrs the higher caste. “I told you when he didn’t cull that possessed cusp it was clear where his loyalties lay.”

Your fins flick in surprise. They know about the scientist? 

“I’d hoped he’d have a good explanation.” Zelist retorts acerbically. “Clearly I was wrong.”

Marisa raises her knife and you knock it out of her hand, so quick that -

You’ve been stabbed.

“Such a simple trick to fall for.” She whispers, and her other hand withdraws a long, serrated blade covered in violet blood that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You try to kick her. Your body doesn’t move. The blood seems to drip off the metal in slow motion as you find you can barely even breathe, frozen in place with outstretched arms. The damp air is cold on your wound, which...isn’t closing.

Your wound isn’t closing.

Zelist shakes her head, and raises her hand to make a short signal. Dozens of other trolls come out, completely covered up in body armor, nets in their hands. 

Your wound bleeds freely, staining your body armor, staining your new shirt.

The trolls close in, nets crackling with energy.

No. No. No. No.

The nets surround you, wrapping you up in a hopeless tangle as they shock you, and your wound isn’t closing - 

You can’t speak. Can’t regrow. Can’t do anything.

Then you remember what you practiced with Teagan, what seems like a million sweeps ago now.

You take their minds. Despite the temptation, you don’t attack like you did with the indigo who threatened Lonnen. You only make them set you free, back off, leave this place and forget what happened, forget the cult itself; you grow new pathways in their minds, wiping away the old.

Breathing heavily once free of the nets, you turn to the pair of women who stare at you, whatever Marisa did having worn off or been purged by your body. Zelist is slack-jawed in amazement while Marisa exhibits a surprised sort of hunger, leaning forward slightly while still holding her blood-covered knife.

“Listen to me.” You say - snarl, really, despite straining yourself to sound civil. “I don’t want to fight you. But I will if I have to. This town is mine.”

Silence reigns for a few moments as the wind blows, bringing the scent of salt and fish.

“Since when could you do that, Varzim?” asks the yellowblood quietly. “You didn’t have that power when you fought the Siren.”

“I didn’t.” You agree. “I’ve learned more about my abilities since then. None of which I feel like sharing with you.” You remark, dry. 

You give them a wry smile with a great deal of sharp seadweller teeth. 

“Something about being stabbed and manhandled has put me in an antisocial mood. We’re done here. Go, before I make you leave.”

The two exchange another look. 

Then Zelist pulls out a gun that reminds you uncomfortably of Sochet’s. The runes, the metal, the make...they’re almost twins, but this one is far newer. 

You duck as a bullet whistles over your head, and you can feel it’s like the ones Sayamh died for - horrorterror essence turned against its source, anathema to your very existence. You pull out your own gun, shooting to keep her and Marisa - damn olive stabbing at you - back.

You fend off both of them, letting your training take over, and get up close to Zelist, knocking the gun out of her hands - even that hurts, making you shudder down to your core.

Then Marisa shoots you in the back and you feel yourself...melt.

Your existence starts to break down, your very presence in reality degrading.

But you can regenerate again.

As the bullet is flung back at its owner, as your monstrous nature takes over and you grow jaws and eyes, tentacles and tendrils growing as your choir of voices sings of victory, of growing unrestrained by troll shape, you struggle against it, but perhaps not as hard as you should.

Trolls warp into nonsense masses of flesh in your sight.

You sing in confusion. In fear. In joy. What odd creatures!

You sing unbothered by what your own flesh just went through, but the whispers of the others grate on you. An irritant, itching at your growth. 

So you raise your voice to drown them out. 

[raelly-writing]

Prompt 9: Lush - FFXIVWrite 2020

... you ever question the word associations your brain will make? Uuuh, mentions of mature themes towards the end, did not stop and think too hard about whether the fruit would be available or not. Nor would I brave trying to hammer out smut at 2AM in the morning.

---

Raising a fist, Viana knocked on the door. “Thancred?”

Immediately, she heard his muffled voice call out for her to come on in. She readjusted her grip on her book and the bowl she was carrying and nudged his door open so she could lean inside. Thancred was seated by his desk, as she had expected, his quill raised as if he was in the middle of writing something.

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Setting down his quill, Thancred leaned back in his chair with a reassuring smile. “Fear not, you didn’t.” Even from the door she could see the neat piles of journals and parchments that occupied most of the surface of his desk. “Something the matter?” he asked.

Giving him a small smile, she shook her head. “No, I was just wondering if I could read in here? I know you’re working but…” She glanced off to the side, shrugging sheepishly. It felt strange to adjust to dealing with their still new relationship while also readjusting to the routines and duties they had now to resume. It had seemed more… isolated, on the First, their time just split between the Empty and then whatever other tasks that may have cropped out, but there’d been little to stop them from just spending time with each other.

“Of course you may,” he replied warmly.

Relaxing, she slunk inside his room and nudged the door shut. “How’s it going?”

He heaved a slow sigh and looked down on the papers on his desk. “Unsurprisingly, Riol has done a good job managing everything on his own while we were gone. Turns out I’ve forgotten a fair bit of the finer details over the years though. Still have a fair few items to work my way through.”

“Perhaps a break is in order then,” she said softly and set down the bowl on an empty spot on his desk. “From F’lhammin.”

He instantly let out a low, throaty laugh. “Peaches?”

Shrugging, Viana turned and walked over to his bed. “Said they were from some orchard in Thanalan that you were familiar with,” she explained as she sat down to toe off her sandals.

“By the Twelve, that woman has a far too good memory.”

Chuckling, she glanced up at him. “I take it you enjoy those particular ones?”

Thancred was turning over one of the red and yellow fruits in his hands, a small smile on his face. “Mhm, I bought some when I was new in Ul’dah,” he mused. “After so many years in Sharlayan, I was fairly keen to explore food that actually tasted pleasantly.” He looked up at her, something in his expression turning a bit wry. “Nevermind being able to afford actually buying food for myself, for once.”

A sombre sense of understanding settled in her chest. Viana gave him a gentle look - it was a sentiment she was all too familiar with. Sometimes, when she was stressed especially, she could catch herself squirrelling away dry foods as if she was still a scrawny kid that risked going hungry. “Recurring favourite treat, I assume?”

He nodded. “Indeed, the orchard these are from boasts they’re the sweetest of its kind. Ever tried one?”

She shook her head. “Not from Thanalan at least - hey!” Dropping her book onto the bed, she quickly caught the fruit that Thancred suddenly tossed across the room to her.

A playful grin spread on his lips when she frowned at him. “Try it, I think you’ll like it.”

Viana looked down at the fruit while running her fingers over the soft, fuzzy surface. “Alright, alright, if you’re going to be tossing them at me like that,” she grumbled. The ones she’d had in Othard had not had such a hairy surface. Oh well, if he was sure they were that good. Carefully, she bit into the fruit. Luscious, sweet juices instantly filled her mouth, the fruitmeat silky smooth on her tongue.

“Oh!” She put her hand to her lips, blinking in surprise as she chewed. It certainly lived up to his praise. The fruit was so overflowing with its sweet juices that droplets of it were soon running down her hand - certainly a welcome treat were one to be standing in the middle of Ul’dah’s sunbaked streets, she could imagine. Without thinking of it, she moved the fruit to her other hand and licked away the errant droplets from her hand. “You weren’t exaggerating,” she finally said and looked up at Thancred. “It’s really good.”

Barely had the words left her mouth before he got up from his chair and crossed the short distance to her. A rush of heat spread across the back of her neck at the suddenly hungry look in his eyes.

As if he noticed her reaction, a charming smile curled the corner of his mouth just before he leaned down and caught her lips in a slow, firm kiss that swiftly scattered her thoughts like a flock of cloudkin. Inhaling sharply through her nose, Viana tilted her head back as her eyes fluttered shut, his hand warm where it settled at her jaw. There were such subtle differences to how he felt and tasted here on the Source - more tangible, as if there’d always been some sort of give to his form on the First. Clearer, like there was no longer a faint undercurrent of the alkaline taste of aether lingering on his lips anymore.

Before she knew it, he had gently pushed her back against the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he knelt over her. The kisses melted into one another, the texture of his thumb rough against her cheek as he caressed it. Aware of the sticky juices covering her free hand, Viana merely brushed her fingertips against his neck, yearning to bury them in his hair. Despite how he kept the kisses slow and controlled, she could sense the restrained hunger simmering beneath his touch.

Slowly, Thancred broke off the kiss with a pleased, humming sound. When she blinked her eyes open, he was staring down at her with a rakish smile, satisfaction sparkling in his hooded eyes. “Just as sweet as I remember,” he rumbled.

Snorting, Viana raised an eyebrow at him. “Think you tasted the wrong thing, ser,” she retorted, laughter lacing her words.

His gaze shifted to the peach when she held it up for him, then back to her. Gently, he grasped her wrist in his. Viana felt her mouth go dry as she watched him gingerly take a bite out of the fruit. It was nearly obscene how his tongue darted out to lick the juices from his lips as he contemplated her for a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity. A searing heat rushed up over her cheeks, her heart thumping violently against her ribcage. The satisfied look in his eyes told her that he knew precisely what he was doing right then.

“Quite delicious,” he hummed. With a low, thoughtful sound he carefully took the fruit from her hand, then casually deposited it onto his nightstand. “But I think I’m in the mood for another treat entirely,” he finally continued as his voice dropped to a low timbre that instantly made her stomach twist pleasantly. Arousal quickly wound through her body, liquid heat pooling between her thighs.

Viana took a slow, steadying breath as she draped her arms over his shoulders. “What about your work?” she asked lightly.

Laughing quietly, Thancred placed another slow kiss to her mouth. “I think I have earned a little break,” he murmured against her lips.

“I suppose so,” she whispered with a smile, and tugged him down with her onto the bed.

Not that he needed much coaxing. His mouth was hot and hungry against hers, the sweet taste of the peach lingering on his tongue. Soon enough, their clothes lay scattered over the floor, her legs resting over his broad shoulders, fingers twisting in his silver tresses as he eagerly had his fill of her, only their breathless voices and sounds of pleasure filling the stillness of the room.

[jade4813]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves, Chapter 4

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Rating: PG (I’m assuming it’ll stay there?)

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Max would do anything for Zoey. Including posing as her fake boyfriend to give her father one last “big moment” to celebrate with her. Nothing could possibly go wrong. After all, it’s only his heart that stands to be broken. Right?

Chapter: 4/?

Author’s Notes: Takes place after Zoey’s Extraordinary Glitch.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“So, you want to go on a date tonight?” Max asked, wheeling his chair around the edge of her desk, his tablet balanced on his lap. He saw her shoot a quick glance towards Joan’s office and resisted the urge to follow her gaze. Joan had taken the news of their “relationship” in stride – though, given her current romantic situation, she couldn’t exactly do otherwise. However, she had exercised enough oversight to order that Max report directly to her for the foreseeable future, heading off any accusations of preferential treatment. Still, if they were going to sell the fiction of their relationship, Zoey and Max had agreed they needed to act like a couple, even at work. And that meant being seen going on dates.

And – if Max was very lucky – maybe even flirting in the hallways. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Ah, sure,” she agreed. “That’d be great.” When she offered him a small smile, he returned the gesture and wheeled back around to his desk. Their first official fake-date. He couldn’t wait.

As it turned out, however, fate had other plans. With Tobin and Leif tackled the next phase for Chirp, it was up to Zoey and Max to troubleshoot the newest problem with the SPRQ Watch. A little after four, Joan called them into her office to notify them that the watch had developed its newest glitch: it was swapping heartrate and step counter data, leading to wildly inaccurate (and somewhat alarming) readouts for both. When she declared they weren’t to go home until it was fixed, Max inwardly groaned. So much for their date. Their fake-date, he corrected himself quickly.

But later that night, hunched over his computer with only Zoey for company, he decided the situation could have been worse. At least he got to be with her.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” she called out to him, leaning back in her chair to stretch.

Max was a little taken aback by her offer, and he replied, “It’s all right. I’m happy to help.”

She threw him a slight grimace. “Max, please. It’s silly to ruin your whole night. I can take care of this; I think I’m pretty close to identifying the problem. It seems silly for us both to stick around.”

Although he wanted to argue, he changed his mind when he got an idea. “If you’re sure?” he asked, standing and reaching for his jacket.

Zoey looked a little surprised. “Of course I’m sure! Go on! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

But she wouldn’t have to wait that long. When he returned to the office twenty minutes later, she was sitting quietly at her desk, staring morosely at lines of code. “Max? What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”

He held up one of the two bags he was holding, and he saw the exact minute the smell of the food it carried made its way to her desk because her eyes went wide and she straightened in her chair. “You really thought I’d abandon you here by yourself? I thought you knew me better than that,” he chided her gently. “I went for a food run. I figured if we couldn’t go out for our date – our fake-date – then I’d bring our fake-date back here to us.”

“That’s…very thoughtful of you,” she remarked, though she hesitated and threw one last look at her computer screen.

He knew what she was thinking. “Give me five minutes while I set up in the conference room, but then you really need to take a break to eat. The glitch will still be there after dinner, but you won’t be if you pass out from hunger. Plus, brains work better with food.”

“I had food!” she protested, her voice following him to the conference room. “I got some chips from the vending machine earlier!”

“Cheetos are not food,” he called back over his shoulder, sliding the door shut behind him with his foot. Glancing at her desk one more time to make sure she hadn’t followed, he hurried to set the scene.

It took Zoey more like six minutes to find a stopping point in the code she was reviewing and make her way to the conference room, and when she did, he smiled at her gasp of surprise. “What is all this?” she asked.

He held her chair for her as she lowered herself slowly into her seat, looking at the meal he’d spread out before her. “Deli sandwiches from that place you like down the street. They were out of all the good sides, so I’m afraid I was stuck with kale chips.” He paused, considering, before acknowledging, “Which I’m not entirely sure are an actual food. But if we get desperate, I’m sure the vending machine still has some Doritos I can scavenge. I figured you were probably sick of coffee by now, so I got you a cup of hot tea with a little honey instead.” Just the way she liked it.

She nodded absently, as though she was still trying to take it all in. When he saw her finger the edge of the Happy Birthday tablecloth in amazement as he joined on the other side of the table, he threw her a wry look. “Okay, so the convenience store a couple blocks away was pretty low on options. But a first date requires a certain amount of panache. Even a fake one. And this was the best I could do under the circumstances.”

“It’s…amazing. No, really. It’s perfect,” she rushed to reassure him. “But are those really a good idea?” she asked, nodding at the cluster of birthday candles he’d stuck into two cupcakes – makeshift candelabra – in the middle of the table. Darting a cautious look towards the ceiling, she looked around for a sprinkler system.

“Oh, right,” he agreed quickly. He’d been so swept away by the idea for this impromptu date, that thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Maybe we should blow those out. Getting soaked would probably put a damper on the ambiance.”

Zoey picked up one of the muffins and handed him the other. Before blowing it out, however, she suggested, “What do you think? Should we make a wish?”

One corner of his mouth quirked upward. He already had everything he wanted. Well…almost. “Why not? I guess it is tradition.” He watched as she closed her eyes, pondering her own wish. In the faint light of the candles as they cast a soft glow around her face, Max thought she had never been more beautiful. Then she pursed her lips and exhaled quickly, extinguishing the flame.

When she opened her eyes again and saw his candles were still lit, she threw him a puzzled frown. “You didn’t make a wish?”

“I was waiting for you to go first,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t entirely the truth. He’d been too captivated by her to even remember he was holding candles of his own. “I didn’t want to take the chance that we’d confuse any potential wish-granting fairy if we both went at the same time.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to reward his bad joke with a smile, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t have to ponder his wish. It was the only thing in the world that he really wanted. I wish… a voice in his mind whispered softly as he prepared to blow out the candles. I wish…

As they cleaned up after their meal, Zoey remarked, “There’s something I should probably tell you. I actually…well, I was afraid this would be weird. Going on a date with you. A fake date. Going on a fake date with you.”

He threw her a bland look. “Our first romantic fake-date is basically an impromptu birthday party that is somehow set nowhere close to either of our birthdays. That’s not weird?”

He answering bubble of laughter washed over him, sending shivers down his spine. “Okay, weirder,” she acknowledged. “This is actually…very sweet. I just thought, you know…we’ve been friends for a long time. I figured it would be awkward to transition that into a romantic relationship. Even a fake one. Didn’t you?”

Picking up a stray kale chip – which he was still convinced wasn’t real food – he popped it in his mouth as he shrugged. “Not really. I always figured the best relationships start with friendship. If the person you love is also your favorite person in the world, why would it be weird?” Not wanting to spoil the mood by reminding Zoey of the lingering shadow of his own feelings, he focused his attention on his empty chip bag, crumpling it into a tiny ball as he and joked, “I always thought it would be like hanging out with your best friend, only, you know, with more kissing.”

“Are we going to be doing that?” she asked softly, her words freezing him in his place. His arm had been lifted to toss his garbage towards the trash can, but he lowered it slowly to the table as he considered her question. “Kissing, I mean,” she clarified, though it was hardly necessary.

Max sighed, pulling his attention away from the mess as he met her eyes across the table. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t bring it up if it weren’t important,” she reassured him, skirting the edge of the table to stand by his died. “But when we were at dinner with David and Emily the other night, she started asking me questions when we were in the kitchen cleaning up.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?” he asked, surprised that she hadn’t mentioned it before.

She waved her hand in the air in a vague gesture. “Oh, I don’t know. Just…questions.” When he just stared at her, she huffed and admitted, “All right, so it kinda felt like a cross-examination, but she’s an attorney. You know how they are. I guess she thought we were acting a little weird.”

He frowned. “Weird how? You think she suspected the truth?”

Zoey looked down, her hands fiddling idly with a discarded napkin. “I don’t know. Maybe not that so much as…um…well, that our relationship may not be…going…well. I tried to explain that we just hadn’t been dating for very long so we were still in the awkward phase of our relationship, but I don’t know how long she’ll buy that.”

With a heavy sigh, Max ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. “Wow. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, I guess. And, anyway, I thought it probably wouldn’t matter because we would, um, get used to…everything before we saw them again. I’m not trying to push you or anything, if you don’t want to kiss me –”

“That’s not the problem,” he interjected, shaking his head. “The problem is that I do want to kiss you. And that makes this…complicated.”

“But does it have to be?” she asked in a small, pleading voice. “We don’t have to overcomplicate this. We can just think about it like…like shaking hands. But with our mouths.” She gestured vaguely at her lips, which didn't help his ongoing battle to not stare longingly at them, imagining what they would feel like to kiss.

“So, basically, it’s nothing like shaking hands,” he pointed out in a dry tone.

Her tone was apologetic as she explained, “Like I said, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

She had a point, and he knew it. But that didn’t make this any easier. “I…I’m trying, Zoey. Can you give me just a little more time?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable, filled with all the things they weren’t ready to address between them. Finally, she took a step back and said, “Anyway, I should probably get back to work.”

He nodded, gesturing at the table. “Go ahead. I’ll come help you when I’m done cleaning up.” He leaned over to collect the rest of the trash, but when she disappeared around the corner, he straightened with a sigh.

He should have realized Emily wasn’t going to be easily fooled. She was a very sweet person, when you got to know her, but she wasn’t the most trusting soul on the planet. She was also very protective of the people she cared about. If anyone was going to greet their story with skepticism, it would be her.

Max grimaced as he tossed out the rest of their trash. He knew he needed to get past this. He just didn’t know how. How could he kiss her and not want it to be real?

Because it was for Mitch. Because the whole reason they were in a pretend relationship was to make him happy in his final days. If he wasn’t going to commit wholeheartedly to their charade, what was the point? It had been unfair of him to offer to be Zoey’s pretend boyfriend if he wasn’t willing to follow through.

Or was that just an excuse? He ignored the question.

“Zoey, wait!” Max called out, following her out into the main office area.

“Yes?” she asked, turning around. She was standing by the hanging wicker chairs, where she’d sung her heart song to him not long before, but he tried not to think about that.

He stopped a couple of feet away from her, feeling inexplicably awkward and unsure. “You’re right. There’s no point in doing any of this if I’m not willing to do what it takes to sell it.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do.”

Max bridged the distance between them. “I’m sure. If it’ll make Mitch happy, it’s worth it, right?” She nodded slowly. “But I think…it’ll probably be a little weird. Our first kiss, I mean. Maybe we should – ah – get it out of the way now. So that we seem more comfortable with each other when we’re in front of your family.”

Zoey blinked in surprise and took a half step back? “Really? I don’t know if that’s necessary –” she protested weakly.

“You think we should have our first kiss in front of Emily? That’s like putting chum in the water. There’s no way she wouldn’t pick up on it!”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “I see your point. Okay. If you’re – if you’re sure.”

Moving slowly, as if a sudden movement would scare her away, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

She did as he asked, then opened one eye and gave him a mildly suspicious look. “Why?”

Max grinned. Did she think he was going to prank her or something? “Because the first fake-kiss in a fake-relationship is very serious business. If you’re staring at me, I’ll get nervous and blow it, and then you’ll think I have terrible fake-kissing skills and fake-breakup with me,” he teased.

Biting back a smile, she closed her eyes again. Taking a moment to steady his breathing, he brushed his thumbs lightly across the high ridge of her cheekbones, down the soft skin of her cheeks, and along the curve of her jaw. He could do this. None of it was real. He just needed to remember that.

Leaning down, he hesitated when his mouth was inches from hers. The feel of her breath against his lips made him shudder with longing. It’s fake. None of this is real. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s all fake.

“Max?” she breathed, her voice soft and uncertain.

Before he could second-guess himself, he closed the distance between their mouths. It’s not real. He felt her lips part on a tiny gasp and moaned, one hand sweeping down her waist to her side as the other caressed the nape of her neck, toying with the soft curl of hair that wrapped around his fingers. It’s not real.

Her hands hovered above his chest, but when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her in, she fisted her hands in his shirt and clung to him. He felt her murmur something against his mouth and hesitated, but her hands swept up his chest to his shoulders. It’s not real, he reminded himself. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, sweeping her tongue against his lower lip in a silent invitation.

It was enough to shatter his self-control. Crushing her against him, Max lifted her off her feet as his lips parted and he poured all of the love he’d struggled to hide from her for years into his kiss. Zoey…oh, god. Zoey. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, scraping it softly with his teeth. He couldn’t count the number of nights he’d spent thinking about her, fantasizing about her kiss. But even in his dreams had never captured the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath.

She tasted like honey.

Zoey made a soft sound as he turned with her in his arms, and he smiled against her mouth. “God, Zoey, I –” he began. I love you. He caught himself before he could say the words that would reveal him. The words she didn’t want to hear. The reminder was like a splash of cold water, pulling Max out of his romantic haze.

It’s wasn’t real, he reminded himself.

But it felt real.

Embarrassed that he’d allowed himself to get carried away – and ashamed that he’d allowed himself to forget it was all an act, if only for a moment – he rushed to put her back on her feet and step away. His body nearly betrayed him, his hands reaching to hold her again, and so he shoved them into his back pockets and retreated another step.

Should he apologize? She had lifted her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips as she stared at him with wide eyes. Unable to meet her eyes, he looked down, absently smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt caused by her hands. As he often did when he wasn’t sure what to say, he resorted to humor. “So, uh, that should do the trick, don’t you think? I can’t imagine even Emily would be suspicious after that.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she agreed softly.

He ran a hand through his hair, which he realized only belatedly had been mussed by her hands. “I should – should we get back to work, or -?”

“No! That’s okay!” she blurted, confirming his worst fears. He had crossed the line – if not with his actions, than with the way they betrayed his emotions, reminding her of feelings she didn’t want to face. “I’m almost done here, anyway. You can head out.”

His stomach sank. While he normally would have insisted he remain to help, he needed some distance from her. Not to mention time to get his head on straight. “Okay. Yeah. Right,” he mumbled. His hands still ached to hold her, and he didn’t trust himself not to give in to the urge, so he shoved them into his pockets as he turned to go.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t.

At least…it hadn’t been for her. The problem was, it had been for him. So what was he going to do now?