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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 month

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A Misdemeanor Of The Heart, Chapter 10 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Graphic aftermath of domestic abuse and sadly typical post abuse love bombing

AN: Listen- see those warnings above? I fuckin mean it. If you're not in the right headspace or you need to walk away for a bit, do so. This shouldn't need stating but I will anyway, Laurence is a terrible man and his views are not that of my own.

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Masterlist AO3 KoFi

“Honey, I’m home!” Laurence’s voice pulled you from the darkness you had taken shelter in, beating it back with a razor wire wrapped bat. Now it was time to be awake, to perform the song and dance of a wife. The time for rest was done.

You sat on the floor, at the foot of the stairs, though you had no memory of actually making it down them at any point. There were large black spots in your memory, almost as big as those you blinked from your vision.

Blinking the eye that still worked, you tried to make your mind work. The cogs in your mind felt rusted, seized, as if they hadn’t turned in years, long abandoned and forgotten.

The shadows were growing long across the floor as the day came to a close. So much time had been lost, slipping from your fingers. If you were stronger, you would have been able to hold on to the fleeting hours. You hoped Laurence wouldn’t be angry that the cleaning hadn’t been done.

Dinner. You hadn’t started dinner, had you? You couldn’t remember. Hopefully, you had. Laurence needed to be fed. He worked hard, long hours to provide for you. It was your duty.

His footsteps were heavy across the warm wood floors he hated so much. Anxiety grew in you with every footfall, but you couldn’t do much more than groan in protest. Standing, you willed yourself but you couldn’t. Everything hurt. It hurt to breathe.

“Oh, honey,” Laurence knelt by your side, brushing hair out from your face with a tender hand. “What are you doing down here?”

“I couldn’t,” you croaked out the words, throat raw and dry, “get the washing done.”

Laurence’s arms hooked under your legs and scooped behind your back. He lifted you, cradling you against his chest as he carried you to the small breakfast nook just inside your kitchen. There was a sweet smell that clung to the neck of his shirt. Floral. You liked it. Where had it come from?

“I brought you dinner,” Laurence said as he settled you onto the padded bench. “I figured you weren’t much for cooking tonight, so I treated us. It took calling in some favors but I’ve got the roast chicken from that diner you love so much.”

The act of kind consideration touched you more than it should have. A tear rolled down your cheek, leaving a wet trail. It was always like this, after. Laurence would care, after. He was soft, after. Always after.

You slumped in your seat as Laurence set a glass of water in front of you. He left you alone, heavy steps taking him through the house. He walked through the house as if he hadn’t been the force behind your blood splatter on the stairs. Was that abnormal? Did other wives wake loose hours or days after an argument with their husbands? That’s all that was, right? Just an argument?

If it had been anything more than an argument, what did that mean? It was better to not think about that. Your hand trembled as you brought the water to your lips, letting the cool liquid pour down your raw throat, washing away the question as you tried to ignore the way your little finger didn’t move quite right, didn’t sit quite right.

Laurence came back into the kitchen, humming as he carried a ceramic baking dish and set it on the counter. You could count on one hand the number of times he had dished up a meal, but you said nothing as you watched him portion roasted chicken, vegetables, and rice onto plates.

You remembered back to the dinner you had prepared for Alastor, how the guest helped serve instead of Laurence. You tried to not think about Alastor or of how your husband had embarrassed you, letting a guest serve the meal when you hadn’t been fast enough. You blinked the thoughts away as Laurence settled into the seat next to you.

Scooping some rice onto the fork, you tried to keep your hand steady while you brought it to your lips. Most of the rice fell off and what didn’t was pushed off by your lips as you struggled to open your mouth. Your jaw hurt. Your lips hurt. It hurt to open your mouth.

“Honey, let me help you.” Laurence’s hand was soft as he wrapped it around yours.

He took the fork from you and fed you like you were some small child. You watched passively as he shredded the chicken, feeding stands through lips you struggled to part. Black dots swam in front of your vision, blocking out the view of Laurence cutting the food. Would you fall over?

You mashed what you could with your tongue, avoiding working your jaw more than you had to. Laurence helped you wash down each small bite with a bit of water. Every time you swallowed a bite, he had another ready for you, not giving you a chance to do more than gasp a breath between bites. Eating was exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to sleep again.

“You have to eat,” Laurence said, hand resting on your back as he scooted closer to you. “You need to eat so you can heal.”

“Yes, Laurence.” It felt like you were speaking through cotton balls as you looked at him. You had to look at Laurence when you talked to him. He didn’t like it when people didn’t look at him when they spoke to him. Fear coursed through you as your eye looked into his bright blue eyes.

His hand came to rest on your face, a touch soft as the way he looked at you, brows knitted together in clear concern. For a moment, you thought his eyes were brown. Warm brown eyes and soft hair and then you blinked. No, it was just Laurence, the man who caused the damage, looking at you with pity and sorrow but not an ounce of guilt.

“You know I’m sorry, right?” Laurence’s thumb ran over the swelling in your face. “I just, you make me so mad sometimes. I love you so much. The thought that you’d want him instead of me…”

You said nothing. What was there to say? You didn’t forgive him, but that didn’t matter. It would do no good to tell him that when you faded in and out, it was someone else’s eyes you saw in the place of your husband’s. Another tear fell from your eyes, tracing a messy line down the swelling in your face as you wondered why your mind dared to betray you now.

“You make me so crazy,” Laurence said, standing up from the bench after he decided you had eaten enough. “It happened because I love you.”

Laurence disappeared into the living room again before returning. He had a bouquet, large and wrapped in colorful paper. Small blooms surrounded a wide arrangement of a dozen bright red roses, all expertly picked, arranged, and tied together, held in the hands of the man that had ruined your last floral arrangement.

“I got these for you because I love you,” Laurence said, setting them on the table in front of you.

You picked them up mechanically, looking at them. The corners of your mouth twitched up in a mockery of a smile. It was good enough for him, though usually such a poor performance would earn you the back of his hand.

Laurence hummed as he took the flowers, unwrapped them and put them in water.

“Oh, honey-” Laurence rested a large hand on your shoulder. “I’ll be working late for at least the next week. The radio station liked our marketing plan so much they wanted more.”

“That’s wonderful,” you said through swollen lips. Maybe with the success Laurence would let you buy a mechanical washing tub. Having one of those would be mighty helpful right about now.

“Do you ever tire of fetching Mimzy’s dresses?” Susan asked as she packed up yet another custom dress. She hated working on the woman’s designs. They were off fashion, unique and a proper pain in the ass.

“Is there something bothering you, Susan?” Alastor leaned on the counter, not taking her bait. “Neighborhood boys got you in a bad mood? Want ol Al to put them in their place again? Or is there actually something on your mind?”

The woman behind the counter huffed, shoving her brown waves back before running her hands down her face. Her elbows rested on the counter on either side of the bag.

“Boss bothering you?” Alastor asked as he pulled Mimzy’s bag to him.

“Not any more than usual,” Susan sighed. “Remember Mrs. Latimer? With the bloody nose?”

“How could I forget you overcharging me for a handkerchief?” Alastor leaned on the counter, arms crossed as they spoke like conspirators.

“I charged you what the boss wants me to charge everyone.”

“Which is too much,” Alastor countered, smile growing wider.

“You could go somewhere else,” Susan snapped, “And take Mimzy with you.”

“And miss out on your lovely face?” Alastor chuckled, “I would never. Now what’s got your mood more sour than a lemon and what’s it got to do with Mrs. Latimer?”

“She hasn’t been by to pick up her dress. It was due for pick up three days ago. Ticket’s unpaid too. Boss just loves that. He’s been down my neck about it. Sen’t out a notice, but I’m not sure what he expects me to do about it.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t-” Susan sighed, “I don’t talk about what I see or the things I know about people in town. But I repair a lot of torn shoulders for Mrs. Latimer. I’m worried about her.”

“Torn shoulders?” Alastor hummed.

“Don’t ask me to explain. I won’t.”

“Let me get her dress,” Alastor was already pulling his wallet back out. “I’ll pay the ticket and bring it to her. I’m sure she’s fine, just under the weather.”

Alastor had stood across the street from the Latimer home long enough to be sure that the man of the house was not home. He could see that someone was moving around inside before crossing the street. He walked swiftly up the pathway to the front door and rapped his knuckles against the dark blue door.

He waited, listening to the chirping of the birds and the rumble of a car in the distance. When you failed to answer, he knocked again, harder this time. The fluttering of curtains in the window told him someone was peeking out.

He knew it wasn’t Laurence. Unless you had gotten a pet or had guests, it was you.

So why did you not answer the door?

“Mrs. Latimer?” Alastor calls for you, thinking twice about using your given name while on the street. “I’ve got a delivery for you. Susan sent me.”

“Just leave it outside,” your voice muffled too much for just coming through the door, “Thank you.”

Alastor leaned closer to the door, speaking softer, but still clearly intending for her to hear him. “You’ve not picked up your dress. Susan’s worried for you, as am I.”

“Susan?”

“The seamstress from Markin’s tailor?” Alastor offered, bemused that someone could not have an annoyingly close relationship with the woman regardless of if they wanted to or not. Alastor had known her since they were children and it seemed he could never shake her. “I’m not leaving until you open this door. She’ll skin me alive if I don’t tell her I laid eyes on you and verified one of her best customers is indeed safe and sound.”

“I,” you hesitated inside your home, a block of ice wrapped in cloth hanging from your hand. The swelling had gone down, but the ice soothed the pain still. “I can’t, Alastor.”

“I’m not leaving, so you may as well open this door. I’ll stand here all day if I need to.” Alastor’s lips twitched into a wider smile as he heard the lock on the door and watched the doorknob turn.

You peeked through the opening. “I’m fine, see? Now-”

Alastor leaned to the side, giving himself a better view of you. You watched his face drop from the smile he seemed to wear, and you knew in that moment he had seen too much.

“Fuck,” the word was soft, spoken under his breath and not intended for your ears, but you caught the naked truth of it.

He saw.

“Let me in.” His voice was little more than a tense hiss, but it lacked the threat of Laurence’s voice. Alastor didn’t wait for you to decide if you were going to allow him in, though.

As you readied your words of protest, Alastor looked each way and shoved the door open enough for him to slip inside. The force knocked you to the side, but you had no strength to put up any sort of fight.

This was wrong, you thought as the door squeaked. Improper. You were alone with him, or you would be if he dared to close the door. It stood open, just enough for his frame to have slipped through, though someone could still see.

He looked at you as if he was seeing someone else. A few heartbeats passed before he shut the front door behind him, sealing you off.

Alone. Laurence would kill you if he had found out, but in the haze and fog of pain, you struggled to care beyond the sharp spike of fear. It was done.

“Did he do this to you?” Deep shadows settled on Alastor’s face. Rage, an emotion that looked wholly misplaced and yet right at home, settled over his face in place of the smile he usually wore.

You shrugged, not brave enough to meet his eyes. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Like hell it’s not.” Alastor reached out, fingers ghosting over the dark blue bruises over your eye, “If I had to bet, I’d say it’s likely worse than it looks.”

“It’s fine.” You needed Alastor to leave, “I’m healing. Please, you need to go.”

“I’m helping you,” Alastor’s lips twitched up into a calm smile, “Because it is my fault, isn’t it?”

“No! No, not at all.”

“The flowers were too much of a risk,” Alastor did not outright say sorry, but the words were written on his face. “I’ve patched my fair share of people up.”

Somehow, you found yourself led through your house as if you were the guest. Alastor’s hand was light against your back, only a slight pressure when you would hesitate. It was hard to hesitate for more than a few moments. The pain and fatigue stole the fight from you.

Alastor pulled the chair from your workstation toward the center of your kitchen and lightfully pushed you to sit in it. It was surreal seeing him in your space as if it was his once again.

With a start, you realized how improper this really was. You were alone with a man that was not your husband. What’s worse, you were alone in your home with him and your husband didn’t know. You had no intention of telling Laurence, and that made it all the worse.

It didn’t matter if nothing happened between you. If Laurence found out Alastor was in his home without a third party to ensure things were proper, you would be branded an adulteress. He could leave you ruined in society. Your family would disown you.

“It’ll be worse if he finds out you came.”

Alastor seemed to hear your whispered words easily as he put a kettle of water on the stove to warm, though he disregarded them. He opened drawers until he found the kitchen rags instead of responding to your protest.

You sat quietly as you watched Alastor pick herbs from the little pots that sat in your kitchen window. He put the leaves between two layers of the rag and grabbed your heavy stone rolling pin. Leaning forward to put his weight into it, he rolled it along the cloth until there was a slight green color to the white kitchen cloth.

“What are you doing?”

“Something Ma taught me.” You smiled softly at his words. Though he still spoke in that irritatingly perfect transatlantic accent, he called his mother ‘Ma’. “It’ll help prevent infection in your lip.”

You wanted to ask him how he knew about patching up beaten women, why his mother needed to teach him how to prevent infection beyond washing a cut, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to know. He was too kind of a man to have a childhood where a harsh man’s hands left bruises and weeping wounds.

“When do you expect him back?” Alastor asked as he dipped the folded rag into the steaming water. After squeezing the water out, he took the wrapped chunk of ice from you and re-wrapped it with the damp green tinged cloth.

“Usually just before dinner,” you answered, “But he said he’s probably going to be working late on the extra work for the station.”

“Extra work for the station?” Alastor scoffed but didn’t elaborate. You didn’t ask, though you wanted to. It wasn’t the place of a woman to insert herself into the affairs of men.

“I’ll be gone before he’s back. I didn’t park near either. He won’t know.”

You wanted to trust him. There was no energy left to argue with him about it.

Alastor took the damp rag that had been wrapped around the ice and dropped it into the kettle. He waited for a moment before fishing the rag out and ringing the water out. How it didn’t burn his hands, you did not know.

“Hold this to your eye.” He tilted your head up with a finger under your chin. The action was strangely intimate. Softly, he pressed the warm cloth against the bruised skin. “After the first two days, heat is better to treat bruises. Helps your body break it down so it’ll fade faster.”

“I didn’t know that,” you were not sure what to say to Alastor at that moment. Instead, you slowly reached up with your other hand to take the rag from him, folding your fingers over his hand as best you could with your little finger still not working right.

Alastor noticed your finger, sitting out at an angle from the others as your hand ghosted over his. As he let you take the rag yourself, he leaned forward to get a better look at the finger.

Your heart beat hard in your chest as his face drew closer to yours. You could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, making them look like freshly tilled soil. He had his attention focused on your hand, but the way his hair had just a little more curl at the root, giving it more volume, captivated yours. His long lashes framed his eyes, such a normal color, and yet you couldn’t look away.

“It looks like your finger is just dislocated.” his words were soft. His breath ghosted over you, bitter coffee rich in it. “It’ll hurt, but if you don’t relocate it, it will just get worse.”

“What’s a little more pain?” You tried to sound brave, but your voice still faltered.

Alastor nodded before rummaging through your kitchen again. He came back with twine as he fished a small folding pocketknife from his pocket. He dropped another rag into the kettle before taking both the rag and hand over your eye in his hand.

You marveled at how much bigger his hand was than yours as he plucked the rag from your palm and tossed it into the kettle easily. He held your hand close to his face, using his fingers to feel how the bones sat under your skin.

“Three.” He said, taking your hand in both of his.

“Two.” He wrapped his fingers carefully around your pinky. You took a deep breath, clenching your teeth together and held it.

“One.” He pulled your finger out and toward the rest of your hand with a strong, steady pressure.

It wasn’t slow, and for that you were thankful. Pain swirled in your head as you cried out. And then, with a pop, you could instantly feel relief. The joint throbbed, but the pain was duller now..

You didn’t realize you were swaying until Alastor’s hands on your shoulders steadied you. “Are you alright?”

“Dizzy,” was all you could say, “I’m okay.”

Alastor nodded, dropping his hands from you but stood, watching you for a few moments longer before fishing a rag out of the hot kettle with tongs.

“Give your lip a break from the ice,” he directed over his shoulder as he worked water out of the rag using the side of the kettle and the tongs. He clumsily folded it on the counter, pinching the steaming edges of the fabric and flipping them over.

As he tossed the folded cloth between his hands a few times, you pulled the cloth from your lip. He folded the cloth in his hands one more time before resting it against your bruised eye again, holding it to your darkened skin until your fingers slipped under his hand.

Then his face was once again too close to yours. Your heart pounded as he looked at your lip closer, directing your head this way and that with a few fingers under your chin.

Never in your life had you been this close to a man who was not your father or your husband. All it would take was leaning just a little forward and your lips would be on his. Such a silly thought that was. The pain was surely getting to you.

If someone walked in and saw him holding you like this, they would think he was about to kiss you, and that thought wasn’t so silly. Fear flooded you as your eyes ripped from his to glance at the doorway.

“Don’t worry,” Alastor whispered, “We’ve got plenty of time still.”

“Why are you helping me?” You asked, dressing gown clutched to your chest as you held the back of your blouse up for Alastor, trying to preserve as much of your modesty as you could.

He had insisted on checking the rest of your injuries and you don’t know why you agreed. Maybe it would make him leave sooner? Maybe it just felt better to be taken care of. While Laurence had provided a meal, flowers and water, he hadn’t provided any actual care for the injuries themselves.

“Because no man should lay a hand on his wife.” Alastor spoke around the end of the bandage he had gripped in his teeth. “I don’t enjoy seeing it and I enjoy causing it even less. You deserve better.”

“But it’s what it is. I’m his,” Alastor only hummed at your words, passing the bandage to your side. You took it and wrapped it around your front, passing it back to him on the other side, where he pulled it tight. The pressure around your ribs was comforting, just as he promised it would be.

You still were not sure it was worth being in such an indecent position with him. He said nothing of the yellow and green bruises you knew were on your back, healing marks from prior times you had disappointed your husband.

“What are you doing later this week?” Alastor asked, breaking the tense silence that fell between you while he finished wrapping your ribs. “While he is working?”

“Cleaning,” you weakly shrugged. “Cooking. Healing. Being a wife.”

“And if you took a break from that?” Alastor felt the adrenaline trickle into his system just as it did whenever he took a risk while hunting. Interesting. Unexpected. He filed that reaction away to examine later.

“What?”

“I’ve spent all afternoon here patching you up. I was supposed to go pick up some curtains.”

“I’m so sorry!” You sucked in a breath as he tied off the bandages. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“I know just the way!” Alastor’s voice returned to the cheer you had grown to associate with him. It had been subdued in the last few hours and you had missed it. Its absence had left you feeling tense. “Why don’t you assist me in making the selection? My home is dearly missing a woman’s touch. We can go next week, so you’ve had a chance to heal.”

“It wouldn’t be-”

“Proper, sure it would. We’ll be in public and I can assure you that Laurence wouldn’t find out. Just you, me and the rest of the shoppers.”

“Alright,” you chewed your lip, “If you’re sure he won’t find out… I could assist and then we’ll be even? The debt paid?”

Next? Masterlist

#Alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hazbin x you #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x oc #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #human!alastor #human!alastor x reader

132 notes · View notes

silentglassbreak · 7 months

Note

What if the reader and Noah have been training together with Ash, doing kickboxing and all that. They haven't hung out together, but one day, Noah invites the reader over. They find out that they have more in common than they realize.

You can make this cute, romantic, fluff, smutty...you do you :)

Ahhh mi mayor amor, this ask holds a special place in my heart. I trained martial arts for a long time. This sounds like a lot of fun. Now, I will forewarn you, I’ve never done a reader perspective fic before. I’m nervous. The Y/N thing scares me, but I’m going to take a crack at it. Honest feedback is appreciated! After writing notes: I'm so FUCKING evil. :)

Ratings: Explicit

Warnings: Hehehehehe.......

Vices

“Damn it!” My hand tapped the leg cinched around my throat, my mouth guard nearly choking me as I struggled.

The grip loosened and I rolled backward over my head, fist punching the mat beneath me. The Dutch braids my hair was in was faltering, and I stared at the man in front of me.

“What the fuck am I doing wrong?!”

“Calm down, Y/N. You’re going to get this.” Ash, despite being covered in a thin layer of sweat, was smiling warm at me, trying to calm my frustration.

“We’ve been at this for twenty fucking minutes, dude! I keep getting locked the fuck up!” My hands gestured in front of me, my backside rested on my heels.

“You’ve only been doing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for three months. You’re still learning. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He moved to stand. “You want to take a break?”

I stood as well, leaning down into my stance. “No. Let’s go again.”

Ash quirked a brow, defeated, and shook his head, bending down as well. Before I could reach for him, a voice echoed from behind me, disrupting my focus.

“You’re too tense. You need to shake off some of that rage you got there, doll.”

I snapped my head over, inadvertently whipping myself in the mouth with the end of my braid.

Noah stood, tall and sweaty, leaning against one of the heavy punching bags lining the back wall of the room. A towel was draped over his left shoulder, his water bottle in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“If I wanted your opinion, dick, I would’ve asked for it.”

He threw his hands up defensively. “Just trying to help.”

Scoffing, I turned back around to ready myself. “Sure. I believe that.”

If there was anyone in this gym that I considered a nemesis, it was Noah ‘Dickwad’ Sebastian. I couldn’t fucking stand him. He was arrogant, unbearably fucking tall, and insanely fucking irritating.

We met for the first time when I joined the gym three months ago. He had been training here only six months longer than I, and from the beginning, he was constantly poking a fucking stick at me. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t fucking care.

I learned through whispers in the gym that he was in a band, so when I googled him and learned what he did for a living, I wasn’t impressed in the slightest.

So what if he could sing? Didn’t make him any less intolerable. He wouldn’t sing too well if I stuck my foot down his throat, anyway.

Had I added a few of his songs to my workout playlist? Maybe. That's beside the point.

Ash wrapped me up in the arm bar yet again, my wrist screaming at me to tap out before it snapped in two. My fingers tapped his leg, and he released me.

“Alright Fireball, that’s enough for one day.” He stood, walking over to his corner where he kept his bag and water.

I noticed Noah had left, so I relaxed, straightening my shirt and making my way over to my own bag next to Ash.

“What am I doing wrong, dude? Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? You’re just off right now. Did something happen today?”

Rolling my eyes, I sprayed water into my mouth. “My bitch of a mother called me this morning.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That angered you?” His question was sincere. I didn’t share a lot about my personal life with my gym mates.

“It did.” Was all I gave before I slung my bag over my shoulder and slipped my slides on.

He nodded in approval. “Trying to train angry never works. It makes you unfocused. That’s why we do breathing exercises beforehand.” He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Try to let it go. We’ll work on it more tomorrow.”

His words calmed my fried nerves ever so slightly, and I grinned at him.

“Thanks Ash. I’ll see you then.”

Life really fucking blows sometimes. The last week had been a shit show and a half, and I was exhausted. I hadn’t been back to the gym because work had kept me busy, then I got rear-ended, totaling my ‘98 Corolla, and had been dodging calls from my Mom every hour like clockwork.

Needless to say, when I stepped foot into the gym, the smell of perspiration and mat cleaner was like a breath of fresh air.

My eyes searched, noticing an unfamiliar class going. I spotted Ash, whose eyes flashed over to me before he halted his spar, and jogged over.

“Hey, you okay? Haven’t seen you in over a week.”

I nodded. “Rough few days, but I’m good now.”

He smiled, but a look of concern crossed his face.

“Gosh, Y/N, I’m sorry, but we’re not running regular classes this week. There’s a tournament on the weekend, we’ve got to train our competitors.”

My mood fell, my shoulders going with it. I needed the relief. I needed to train.

Ash saw my eyes, and a sympathetic look crossed his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

I shook my head, waving a hand. “No, no. That’s okay. I totally understand.”

He chewed the inside of his lip, peering around the room. A sly smile perked up on his lips.

“Come here.” He motioned for me to follow, which I did, kicking my sandals off before entering the mat, giving a quick bow.

When we rounded the corner into the back of the gym, my feet halted just before the line of bags. Only one person was there, gloves and shin guards on, practicing his combinations.

Oh hell no.

“Y/N, why don’t you spar with Noah?”

My jaw dropped as he stopped mid-hook, pulling an earbud out. “What’s up?”

His chestnut brown hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes were widened slightly. I suddenly felt very exposed, only in a sports bra and fitness leggings.

“Would you be willing to spar with Y/N?”

Noah’s eyes made a show of looking me up and down, a devious grin creeping over his face.

“Oh, of course.”

I snorted, looking at Ash. “Are you insane?”

He shrugged. “You’re my only two not competing. It gives you a way to train.”

Holding up a hand toward Noah, my voice raised several octaves. “How am I supposed to spar with him?! He’s a fucking tree!” I motioned to my own height. “I’m only five fucking three!”

Ash’s eyes narrowed at me, clearly not amused with my tantrum.

“Listen, this is the only solution I have for you this week. If you don’t want to, totally fine.” He interlocked his fingers. “But I think it would be good for you.” He glanced between us. “Both of you.”

And just like that, he left.

Noah stared at me now, waiting for my decision. I just shook my head and snarled. “Fuck this.”

Turning to leave, I heard his voice call after me. “Yeah, figured you’d be too scared.”

I froze mid-step, craning my neck to look back at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I get it. I’m intimidating.” He was unhooking his shin guards, tossing them to the side.

“Are you, now?” I turned back around, arms crossing over my chest.

His gloves went next, falling next to his bag. “Obviously.”

“You’re way out of my weight class, Noah.”

He smirked. “Calling me fat?”

I rolled my eyes. What a fucking douche.

“You have an unfair advantage with your long noodle limbs.”

He sucked his teeth, taking a short drink of water. “Having fun insulting me today, huh?”

“Doesn’t change the circumstance.”

“You joined martial arts for self defense, right?”

I jutted my hip out. “So?”

He set down his bottle, running long tattooed fingers through his damp hair.

“So, you think every attacker is going to be the same size and weight as you?”

This gave me pause. He had a point.

I let my bag fall casually off my shoulder, holding my arms up in defeat.

“Fine.” I stepped forward to the middle of the mat. “You want to spar? Let’s do it.”

His eyes sparkled, which made my breath catch for a second, as he walked over to me.

His long form bowed forward as I did, before we bent down in our stance.

It was as I expected; infuriating.

His arms could nearly wrap me around twice. His legs were surprisingly strong, his thighs much more muscular than I had originally anticipated. I kept having to tap, which was making me angrier with each match.

“This is bullshit!”

He hopped on the mat, keeping his blood flowing. “You’re overthinking it. Going rigid.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fuck that. I’m just too fucking small for this.”

He shook his head, eyes locked on my face. “You’re not. You need to let go. Quit thinking about it so hard.”

We restarted, and I let his words soak in. Feeling my heart beating, my lungs breathing, I let my body instinctively take over. Noah’s thighs wrapped around my waist, but I managed to wrap and arm between them, breaking his grip. Before I could celebrate my victory, he wrapped an arm around my neck, holding me in a reverse choke.

I had to stop and think. Lifting my arm, I found his neck, and locked in tight, causing him to double over, and his arm to slip.

I flipped away from him and stood back up, hands out and waiting. He grabbed me, but I was faster, sprawling low and taking out his right leg before wrapping his ankle in a crushing grip.

I felt his fingers tap my leg three times, and released him, squealing in excitement.

Jumping to my feet, I clapped my hands together, smiling wildly.

“I fucking did it!”

He laid flat on the mat, breathing heavily, and gave me a weak thumbs up. I stood over him, bent at the waist, and smiled as sugary as possible.

“You okay Daddy Long Legs?”

He lowered his eyebrows and licked his lips. “I like when you call me Daddy.”

Snickering, I stood up, reaching a hand out for him to use to stand up. Once on his feet, he padded over to his water bottle.

It had already been an hour, when I had the sense to check the time.

“Damn, I’ve got to get home. The cat needs to be fed.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Same time tomorrow?”

I smirked, shouldering my bag. “If you’re not too scared.”3

After three training sessions with Noah, I could feel my perspective of him begin to change ever so subtly. Sure, he was still a perverted douche, but he was also a really dedicated sparring partner. He was always on time, he was interested in my progress, and gave some pretty honest feedback about my technique.

Did I hate seeing him every day? No. Not exactly. I didn’t want to go as far as to say I enjoyed his company, but maybe I wore my nicer sports bras to the gym? Maybe my braids were pulled a little tighter because he was rough with them? Maybe I wore a light mist of body spray before I got there?

Maybe.

So, to my disappointment, come Wednesday, our fourth day training together, he wasn’t already there when I walked in. My face fell when I rounded the corner, expecting to catch him warming up on the bag. I had come to look forward to our banter back and forth prior to training. I also looked forward to watching him hit the bag, but I knew that was just because of his form. It was…exceptional.

Considering he could be stuck in traffic, or had a prior engagement, I decided to start warming up without him.

I made quick work of wrapping my hands and slipping my gloves on before starting my music and assaulting the bag in front of me. I let my mind wander while I pushed each combination out, using my emotions to channel the force.

Before I realized, I had listened to nearly half of my workout playlist, and there was still no sign of him. My head glanced around, and a deep feeling settled on my chest.

As much as I didn’t like the guy, it would’ve been nice for him to mention he wasn’t coming today. When I saw him yesterday, he didn’t say anything about skipping today. I couldn’t ask him myself. I didn’t know his number or any way to reach him.

Deciding it wasn’t worth the irritation, I stepped back from my bag, and began removing my gloves, tucking them back into my bag. As I did so, a flash flew by my peripheral vision, and I stood straight, noticing him.

Noah had walked - no, stomped on to the mat, flung his bag down, earbuds already in and blasting loudly in his ears, and hastily grabbed his gloves out, slipping them on.

I just stood, staring at him, leaning against my respective bag. He paid me no attention, not even glancing in my direction. Something had him pissed. His face had turned a harsh shade of crimson, only darkening as he went at the bag, his voice letting out sharp exclamations every so often.

Carefully, I took three steps closer, touching the bag next to him, eyes searching all over for a sign of what made him so angry. What had happened? Noah was one of the coolest cucumbers I had met in a long time, never bothered by seemingly anything.

Who had hurt him?

Deciding to chance it, knowing he couldn’t hear me, I let my fingers lightly touch the bag he punched during one of his ten second breaks.

For the first time, his eyes looked at me, and were almost black with the rage they held. It made me startle, my eyes widening.

“Noah?”

He rubbed at his ear with his glove, making one earbud fall out. “Not today, Y/N.”

His words didn’t leave room for pressure or questions.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not one to heed a warning.

Narrowing my eyes, I took a step forward as he raised his gloves again, standing between him and the bag still swaying.

His shoulders tensed, and he lowered his gloves, glaring at me.

“Move.”

I crossed my arms, and raised an eyebrow.

“Or what?”

“Or I will move you.”

Pursing my lips, I contemplated this. He could, if he wanted to.

“No.”

“Y/N, I’m not asking.” His voice was deadly.

“I’m not moving. Not until you talk to me.”

He furrowed his brow, incredulous. “About what?”

“What has you so upset?”

He bared his teeth, irritation rising. “Since when do we talk? You don’t even like me.”

Uncrossing my arms and opening myself a bit to show I wasn’t trying to be a complete pain in the ass, I shrugged. “I don’t dislike you.”

He scoffed, slipping his gloves off. “Since fucking when?”

“Since you turned out to be more tolerable than I originally thought.”

He shook his head, taking a long gulp from his bottle. “Thanks, doll. Appreciate that.”

Still raging, but slightly more approachable, I took a step toward where he stood at his gym bag.

“C’mon Noah. Maybe sparring will make you feel better?”

He waved at me, disregarding me. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Because…?” I leaned closer to where he was bent over the bag, unwrapping his hands.

“I don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

Standing up straight, I adjusted my sports bra, which I noticed his eyes caught.

“Then grapple with me.” My solution was simple.

After a moment of careful consideration, he eventually stood back up, staring as I made my way to the middle of the mat.

We bowed, and he leaned down, hands up. “I’m not holding back today.”

I smirked. “Please don’t. I want it all, baby boy.”

This triggered him, his hips dropping to the mat in a hard sprawl, arms wrapping up my waist, dropping me like a hot rock on my back. The air rushed from my lungs before I could prevent the grip he held on my torso. His arms squeezed me in a hard choke, but I wasn’t tapping today.

I managed to get a hand under his left thigh, bending it back at a long angle, making his grip falter just enough to get turned around in his arms. My head slipped loose, but he was back on me. Impossibly strong hands gripped my left thigh, flipping me onto my back. My legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection while he tried to get a grasp on my forearm, to which I squirmed, putting pressure on his rib cage with my legs.

A heavy, deep growl escaped his throat, which made my thighs involuntarily twitch around him. I don’t think he noticed. He was angry, fighting something other than myself at this moment.

His arms came up under mine, and he lifted me off of the ground, and dropped me back into my ass hard, popping my legs open.

My limbs sprawled out on the mat, my breath coming heavily, I looked up at him, wide-eyed. He kneeled over me, hair hanging off of his face in sweat-soaked tendrils, threatening to touch my forehead.

We sat there while I watched the darkness in his eyes dissolve, his breathing getting more and more even. The scowl on his face softened for a moment, and I couldn’t help when my hands reached up to grip his sides, squeezing in a hard grasp.

Noah was hurting. I didn’t know why. Something or someone had hurt him. And here, in this moment, I had him.

We knew so little of each other. Only having spent time in this safe haven together, we had bonded over the last few days, and I knew I was the only person who could relax the fire raging behind his chest right now.

“Noah?” I whispered into the space between us, fighting the urge to touch his face.

“Thanks.”

I quirked a brow. “For what?”

“Being here.”

Smiling, I pressed my fingers harder into his sides. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. You don’t even know it, but you did.”

I did know, but hearing him say it gave me a small flutter in my chest.

“Anytime.”

I tapped my code into my phone, and opened the Uber app. Zipping my sweater against the cool spring air, I began the process of searching for a driver to take me home.

“Hey.” I turned to see him walking out behind me. “Headed home?”

I nodded. “Yeah, just got to wait for a driver.” I waved my phone for show.

“You have to call an Uber? Where’s your car?”

Shrugging, I looked back down at the app that stated it was still looking for a driver.

“Got totaled last week.”

He walked over to me. “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No big deal.”

His eyes bounced between me, and the parking lot where his shiny black Navigator sat under the moonlight.

“Want a ride?”

I shook my head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can get an Uber.”

He smiled, all sense of his earlier anger wiped clean. “I promise I’m cheaper.” His keys twirled around his long fingers.

I smirked, and closed my app. “Alright.”

The drive to my house wasn’t long, but before we even made it out of the parking lot, he looked over to me. “Hungry?”

I was leaned back, sending my mother a text. “Uh,” I locked my phone. “I mean, I never eat heavy after a workout.”

He nodded. “Same. But there’s a Yogurtland up the street?”

My lips pinched together. “What’s that?”

He turned out of the parking lot, but still managed to stare at me. “Frozen yogurt?”

I just threw my hands up. “Never had it.”

The look he gave me was as if I was insane. “You’ve never had frozen yogurt?”

“Isn’t it essentially just ice cream?”

He shook his head. “No. Not at all. It’s better.”

“Pfft. I doubt that.”

He turned into the parking lot of the yogurt place, and enthusiastically jumped out of the truck. In the few minutes it took for us to get there, I had been working my Dutch braids out, letting my dark hair loose, waves set in from the style. Letting myself out of the truck, I stopped short when I noticed him standing in front of the store, staring at me.

“What?”

He had the smallest, most amused smile tugging at his lips. “Your hair.”

I walked toward him. “What? Is it all fucked up?” I started tousling it, pulling at the tangles.

“No. It looks nice. I’ve never seen it down.”

I thought about it. I always kept my braids in at the gym. I wasn’t trying to have it ripped from my scalp.

“Oh.” A hot blush crept up my neck. “Thanks.”

I slipped in the door past him toward the counter. He proceeded to spend five whole minutes explaining flavors, toppings, mixes, and syrups to add.

After I finally elected for a simple vanilla with raspberries on top, and he went with chocolate with Oreo pieces, we found a small table and sat down.

He watched intently as I tried it, waiting for a reaction. I was pleasantly surprised.

“So?” I glanced up at him. “What do you think?”

Swallowing my spoonful, I nodded. “I’m impressed. Still like ice cream better.”

He rolled his eyes digging into his own cup.

“So,” I started, mixing my raspberries in. “you think you’re ready to talk about it?”

He stopped, his spoon halfway to his mouth, and eyed me curiously. “Why do you want to know?”

My yogurt was already starting to melt. “I’m just wondering. You were pretty upset tonight.”

He just nodded, looking into his cup, pushing the Oreos around. “I was.”

“You don’t actually have to tell me. I just know from experience that it usually helps.”

“Does it?” He still wasn’t looking at me.

“It can. Especially with someone who doesn’t know about it.”

I watched as his throat moved when he swallowed. “I’ve got a friend…” He stopped. “Had a friend. He passed away a couple years ago.”

I just sat, watching him, giving him space.

“We released a song with his band. It was a tribute sort of thing.” Dropping his cup, he leaned back. “Anyway, it came out about a week ago.”

He had stopped speaking, fingernail picking at the cuticle on his thumb.

“And it made you upset?”

“It hurt.” The sound of his voice was a soft echo, the words catching behind his tonsils.

The overwhelming temptation to stand up and wrap my arms around him gnawed at me as I watched his eyes well up, his face twisting to try and push them back down.

Instead, I settled on reaching a hand across the table, slipping my fingers around his wrist.

His eyes gazed up at me, and he gave me the most heartbreaking smile.

“I’ll be alright. It was just a gut punch, you know?”

Grazing a thumb over his tattoos, I stared at him deeply, attempting to convey my condolences.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Noah.”

A sniffle cleared the air, and he lifted a hand to make quick work of wiping his eyes.

“Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

After yogurt, I made it a point to make sure Noah had my cell number in case he ever needed to talk. I almost regretted it, as he had been sending me memes nearly since we parted ways last night.

When I stepped into the gym, the energy was fervent. Fighters rolling around the mats in all directions, preparing for the approaching competition.

I made my way to the back, now quickly becoming a normal routine, and hid my excitement when I was met with chocolate brown eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile.

Noah was sitting on the mat, stretching his long limbs, so I quickly set my bag down and joined him. Each time I would change positions, a finger would come up to poke me in the side, making me almost fall.

“Knock it off!” I swatted at his hand, an involuntary giggle escaping.

“Just making sure you’re loosened up! I’m not taking it easy on you!”

I shook my head, standing back up straight. “Is that what yesterday was? Because I think my tailbone is bruised now.”

He cackled. “You want me to rub it for you?” He threw a wink at me, and I felt my insides spasm.

“Not necessary. Just remember, I’m a lady.”

He scoffed loud. “Yeah, and I’m an acrobat.”

My jaw dropped. “Oh, you’re in for it Sebastian.”

We had been grappling for longer than normal, each round both of us wanting more. We would laugh when we made the other tap out, mocking each other playfully, forcing the other to be even more savage during the next match. Our bodies were both broken out in a heavy sweat, slipping over each other and leaving a wet sheen on the mat.

"Motherfucker!" I squealed when he pulled me up in another arm bar while I kicked my legs up, trying to hook onto him anywhere I possibly could.

"C'mon doll, tap out."

I snarled at him, trying not to jostle my arm too much. My hips fought for leverage, but his legs over my stomach made it impossible to lift myself.

"You're not getting out of this, Y/N. Tap out."

"Fuck you!"

He chuckled. "If you insist."

Fucking perv.

After another two minutes of struggling, I finally huffed and tapped his shin. He released me instantly, popping up on his feet.

"Sorry, doll. We need to work on that one." He sprayed water in his mouth and I glared at him from where I sat on the mat.

"Quit calling me doll."

He smirked, walking over to hand me my own water. "Why? You know you like it."

I snorted. "No, I fucking don't."

"You do."

Rolling my eyes, I kicked at his legs. He just laughed at me.

Plopping down on the mat next to me, he bumped my shoulder. "You're improving a lot, you know."

I smiled. "Thanks. I feel like I am."

"The arm bar is the worst. I can barely get out of them myself."

Leaning back on my hands, I stretched. "Ugh, I should get home."

Rising up on my feet, I made my way over to my bag.

"Oh."

This made me turn around. Did he sound...sad?

"What?" I asked him while wiping my forehead with a towel.

"I was just having fun." He stood, walking to his bag and mirroring my actions.

This made me smile. "Same time tomorrow?"

He pulled his lips to the side, thinking about something he wasn't saying out loud. I ignored it, now wiping the sweat from the back of my neck.

"I mean, or we could," He hesitated, grinning and looking nervous. "hang out?"

I dropped my towel back in my bag. "Hang out?"

"Yeah, like last night."

"You want to get yogurt again?"

He shouldered his bag, and I did the same. We walked toward the edge of the mat, bowing out.

"We don't have to. Could get pizza?"

"Mm, I don't eat heavy after a workout."

He nodded. "Right." We made our way out of the gym. "We could...go to my place?"

My eyebrows shot up, surprised. "Your place?"

His eyes popped open wide, just now realizing what he had suggested, and how it sounded.

"I just mean to hang out! We could like, order food and play video games or something?" His words came out rushed, nearly stumbling over one another.

I smirked, pulling my hoodie over my head to protect from the chill. "I'm a sweaty mess."

"So am I." Noah took a step into my space, eyes looking down at me. "Doesn't bother me."

Ending up at Noah Sebastian's house was not on the agenda for today. Somehow, however, I stood in his living room, eyes darting around, hand firmly grasping my gym bag.

"You want something to drink?"

I snapped out of my trance and looked at him. "Uh, sure."

My feet followed him while he listed off the options. "I've got water, Gatorade, green tea, and Dr. Pepper."

Opting for water, he reached into the fridge and tossed it at me, grabbing one for himself and motioning for me to follow after him. He lead me up a tall, wrapping staircase down the hall to a bedroom at the end. The room was obsessively clean, making me feel wrong just stepping foot inside.

"This is it. It's not much." He ran a hand through his hair, spreading his arm out toward the room.

His words were comical, given the room was massive. A large, king sized bed the centerpiece. A rolling trunk sat on the floor at the edge, and his comforter and pillows were black. Tucked into the corner was a computer desk with a double monitor gaming setup perched on top. There was a loveseat futon sat on the side of the room with a small table sitting in front. Various anime figures adorned the surface of the table, and LED strip lights hung along the perimeter of the room.

"I didn't, uh," His face was turned up in a grin. "really think about what we would do once we got here."

Taking a careful step into the room, I smiled back at him. "Food?"

His eyes widened, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Right! What do you feel like?"

Attempting to ease the awkward tension, I walked over to the couch and sat down. "I'm pretty simple. Anything works."

He was scrolling, looking at his screen. "Sandwiches?"

I leaned back on the couch, nodding. "Sure."

After about an hour, we had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of him sitting in his computer chair, and me on the couch, while he chatted between bites of his sub.

"We've only been back from tour for like, two weeks?" He set his sandwich down, wiping his face with a napkin. "We haven't made plans for any more shows yet. We need to take some time to prepare the re-release of the album."

I was chewing my food, being wildly careful not to drop anything on the couch. "Have you decided when it will be released?"

He shook his head. "It's more up to the label, but it's not ready yet anyway."

"The last album was good."

His eyes became almost glittery, hearing what I said. "You've heard it?"

"I listened to it once or twice." I smirked, trying to hide my face with my sandwich.

"Just the last album?" He had me. He knew I was bluffing.

"Well, I pulled you up on iTunes when I realized you were a musician."

His tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his bottom lip. "Which is your favorite song?"

Without thinking, I spoke. "Dethrone."

The shit-eating grin that crawled over his face had me giggling nervously.

"I like working out to it."

He stood, crumpling the paper from his sandwich and tossed it in the garbage. He flopped down next to me on the couch, only inches between us. I set the half of my sandwich on the paper laid out on the table.

"Well, I'm glad you like our music." He was balancing his head on his palm, triumphant smile on his face.

"Are we just going to talk about you the whole night?"

"Oh, you want to talk about you? We can do that."

I leaned back. "Like?"

"Favorite movie."

"The Crow."

He quirked a brow, but didn't question further.

"Favorite TV show?"

"Buffy The Vampire Slayer."

He laughed at that. "Seriously?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't hate on Buffy."

He threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, it's a classic." He tapped a finger on his chin. "Favorite place?"

"Place, as in...location?"

"Or whatever it means to you."

I had to think about this one. "My room."

"Really?"

I just nodded. "It's mine. I have it set up exactly how I like it. My roommate is mostly who decorated the rest of the apartment. It's nice, but my room? My room is all me."

Tightening his lips, he gave a look of approval.

"Fair enough." He took a moment to think. "Favorite food?"

"Ah," I stretched my arms out. "Probably Japanese."

He smiled. "Yeah? Same."

He took a while to think over his next question, really working on it.

"Favorite anime?"

Uh-oh, he caught me.

"Oof." I averted his gaze. "I actually don't really watch anime."

I expected a more energetic response, but instead he just said, "No? Why not?"

I shrugged. "Could never get into it? I watched one all the way through, but I couldn't find another that interested me."

"Which one?"

"Tokyo Ghoul."

His eyes lit up. "That's my favorite." He reached over, grabbing a PlayStation controller off of the table and switching it on. When the device surged to life, the background showed an illustration of Ken Kaneki in his ghoul mask, red eye bleeding.

I smiled. "It's the only one that held my interest."

"You've never tried Attack on Titan?"

Shaking my head, I looked back at him. "Never heard of it."

"Want to give it a try? It's dark. You might like it."

"Sure."

He took a few moments to get the show prepared, and I took the opportunity to finish my sandwich, tossing the paper out.

"You want a blanket?" He turned the room light off, turning the LED's up to a warm white light, giving the environment a comfortable feel.

"I'm okay, for now."

He sat down, keeping at least half a foot of distance between us, and began playing the show.

I wanted to pay attention, I really did, but his hand was resting on the couch, fingers splayed out right next to my leg, and it was all I could think about. His eyes were trained on the TV, which made it harder not to stare at him. His features were so striking; eyes a deep brown, hair pushed back and hanging lazily, tattoos littering nearly every inch of his skin. I felt myself salivate while wondering where all he was tattooed, and if I would have the chance to see them.

In an attempt to distract myself, I began removing my braids, taking a second to shake my hair out before I ran a hand through it, trying to get comfortable. I tucked legs underneath myself, my shorts making me feel more exposed than I would've liked.

That's when I felt his eyes on me, covering every inch of me. His fingers were so subtly slipping closer to my thigh on the couch. I tried breathing, but keeping a steady pace was impossible when he was staring.

How far could we take this? How much did I want to allow?

I shifted casually, clearing my throat, and letting the skin of my leg brush his hand. I watched as his eyes shot down to the connection, not moving an inch. His fingers were cool against my warm skin. I leaned back on the couch, pressing my leg closer to him.

His hand slipped, then, up the side of my leg, coming to rest on the top of my thigh. I felt my lip twitch, so I leaned into his hand, pressing my skin into his palm.

When I finally dared to look over, he was staring directly at me, face unwavering, looking absolutely ravenous.

The tension struck me, ripping a cord inside my chest. I wasn't going to sit like this forever.

I leaned forward, taking hold of his shoulder, and pulled my face impossibly close to his. His eyes roamed over me, contemplating his next move. The hand he had on my leg was now wrapped around my back, holding me in place as I stared at him, waiting.

I counted six calculated breaths before he finally leaned in, pressing his lips to mine, and I took my time inhaling his scent. He smelled like the woods; earthy and pine mixed with salt.

The hand he had holding my back pulled, pressing me closer to him. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to slide across my teeth, licking into my lips. A low moan escaped me, and it was like a switch had flipped.

His mouth was hungrily attacking mine, using the same energy he typically exhausted back in the gym. His arms flipped me back, landing me on the cushions, and pressed himself against me.

I hooked my left leg on his hip, using steady pressure to keep his waist pushed flush to my body, my hips grinding against him.

Humming into my mouth, he pulled his face back, studying me for a moment. I laid, mouth open and breathing heavily, staring up at him.

"You're so fucking sexy, you know that?"

Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips up, pressing against the hard bulge in his shorts. "You seem to think so."

He hissed, applying the same pressure back against me. "I have for a while now."

"Yeah?" I let one hand snake down between us, pressing against his cock over the fabric. "Now that you have me here, what do you plan to do?"

A soft, whispering whimper left his lips. "I've got some ideas."

He crashed his lips back down, nipping and biting at my lips, and began making his way down my jaw. His teeth grazed my pulse point, licking a stripe up my windpipe.

"Well," I breathed out. "you going to act on those ideas? Or just lick me all day?"

His head snapped up, and the darkest, most mischievous grin graced his features, which made a chill run up my spine.

"So fucking glad you asked."

#fanfic #bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens cult

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versadies · 2 years

Text

it’s not what it looks like !! (w/ gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. it’s not what it looks like !!

ADDRESSED. alhaitham (w/ performer!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/no-angst, spoilers to sumeru archon quest act 1 and act 5, aether is traveler in this one (sorry traveler!lumine lovers 😭🙏🙏), mentions of murder (figuratively), ooc alhaitham

STAMP. you and alhaitham seems to have some beef with one another due to akademiya’s determination in taking down anything related to performing arts — but as far as traveler knows, there’s something more.

POST-SCRIPT. here’s my first ever fic of alhaitham <333 hes so cool in the latest archon quest, i hope i got him right in this fic :DDD !!

LINKS. main masterlist | taglist

“Me? Liking them? Oh please. If I ever take one look at them, I’ll barely hold back all the food I’ve eaten from rising up to my mouth.” Alhaitham says with a scoff.

He claims such a dramatic comment with complete disgust in his tone, yet Aether would sometimes catch the scribe never leaving his sight on you whenever you’re in the same room as him, minding your own business as you go on with your day.

Had it not been for that look Alhaitham has on his face every time he sees you, the traveler would be convinced that he hated you.

It’s not like there was even a moment when the scribe was acting nice towards you. Given that you’re a performer in the Grand Bazaar, it’s not surprising for someone like Alhaitham to not like you, especially since the Akademiya looks down on performing arts. If anything, Aether always sees you two arguing about something (almost like an old married couple would, Paimon comments), but it was never like the ones with General Mahamatra nor his roommate for some reason the honorary knight can’t explain.

With you, Alhaitham always has this look on his face that makes it look like he’s enjoying your conversations. He usually visits the Grand Bazaar to remind you about whatever the Akademiya said to him about performing arts being forbidden, so it’s no surprise that you always look like you’re on the verge to commit murder from whatever he said to you. Aether’s sort of surprised Alhaitham isn’t dead yet.

“Alhaitham? Ugh, I can’t stand seeing him. He should know that we’ve done nothing wrong here and leave us alone.” You said, rolling your eyes at the thought of the scribe. “I don’t understand how you’re friends with a guy like him, he’s so… blegh!”

You claim such a statement, yet Aether noticed how the first thing you do after your performances is to ask if Alhaitham is still around watching. Of course, you claim it’s because you hope “he was so blown away by your performance he flew away from the Grand Bazaar and never come back”, but Aether feels like it’s more than just that. Not that the honorary knight would say that aloud, not when he doesn’t want to risk getting on your bad side.

Now that he thinks about it… It’s strange how Alhaitham is sometimes around whenever you perform…

Nah, he must be overthinking things.

Or so he thought.

He was just taking a stroll around Sumeru City at night after the celebration feast, not being able to sleep with a very full stomach. It was only when he turned to a secluded area when he spotted two silhouettes, only to realize that they belonged to two familiar people when he came closer to see who they were.

Is that you and Alhaitham? What are you two doing there?

He assumes the two of you were arguing once again, but he didn’t try to come up to the both of you in fear of bothering you two and getting involved. However, as he was about to turn around and walk away, something made him stop.

He sees how Alhaitham lean towards you, almost as if he’s leaning for a kiss–

Wait.

What?

Surely, his sleepy mind is playing games with him. You and Alhaitham? Kissing?

As much as Aether doesn’t want to admit it, you and Alhaitham being in love isn’t too surprising given that he had his speculations, but it’s still a shock to see you two being so.. affectionate.

It was only when you pulled away from your kiss when you realized you had company, causing you to gasp.

“...T-Traveler!” You said in a surprised tone, pushing off Alhaitham away with a nervous laughter. “What.. What brings you here?!”

Aether panics when he’s caught by you and Alhaitham, who’s glaring at the traveler for ruining his moment with you.

“...I didn’t see anything!” Aether says before running away, leaving you and your lover alone in confusion and taken back.

The two of you then look at each other before you begin to laugh at what just occurred.

“I’m sure the traveler wouldn’t say a word about this. It’s about time someone eventually catches you and I together.” Alhaitham says, his mouth twitching upwards at the sounds of your laughter blessing his ears.

You nod in agreement with a wide smile, imagining how Aether would act with you two around from now on after finding out. “Of course, of course. But then again.. Since Azar and the other sages are gone, wouldn’t that mean we’re safe enough to be seen together in public now?”

His hand slowly reaches towards yours and holds it, missing your touch already. “Is that what you want? I thought you were enjoying our acting performances.”

You grinned. “It is amusing to see people’s reactions to us “arguing” with each other, but I prefer being seen with you as a couple. How long has it been since we’ve spent our dates somewhere in public rather than the woods?” You respond.

Alhaitham hums. “If it’s what you want, then I see no reason not to object. I was getting tired of seeing your admirers’ letters and gifts on your doorstep. I can’t wait to see their reactions when they find out you’re dating the Akademiya’s Scribe.”

“Who knew you’d get jealous over such things, you know you own my heart.” You tease, letting go of his hold on your hand before you begin to wrap your arms around your lover.

He wraps his arms around you in return, leaning his forehead against yours. “And you own mine.”

The two of you then share one last kiss before deciding that it’s time for you to come back home. However, instead of coming out of the secluded area separately like what you two always do, you were walking back home holding each other’s hands, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of Sumeru City under the stars.

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x you #genshin fluff #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #al haitham x reader #al haitham x gn reader

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thisliminalspacedaydreams · 1 year

Text

Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Hello!

I’m relatively unknown in the fanfiction world which is great, but I’ve got some friends who are known, and I’ve got things to say, from an outsider perspective.

I’m a writer, but I’m also a reader. I participate in the fandom in the way I know how, which is through writing stories.

Here’s what fandom should be. It’s a village, called Fandom, and people all interact in the village in some way. Write, Art, Ideas, Comments, Reblogs, Kudos, Podfics, Bookbinding, Etc etc etc. It’s a Smurf village, because currency doesn’t exist, and everyone does what they can for the community to thrive, for fucking free. They offer gifts, and encouragement, and once a week we all gather round in the center of the village and scream about it in a very unhealthy way. Some people are more active than others, some like to be known, some prefer to remain anonymous, some watch from the sidelines and everything is done with care and a warm heart between our teeth.

There are pockets of that, which, great.

Here’s what fandom is, sometimes.

1/People elevating others to the point of God, sometimes dragging other writers down (for no reason, no one asked to be rated as the best fic writer of all time) to make a point. What is the point? Is there one?

2/People harassing writers for more things. Write an epilogue, write another chapter, write this and that. Writers aren’t your own personal AI machine to make what you want to write. A lot is blamed on age, and perhaps there is an element to it, but I believe it’s just decency. An 18 years old kid is capable of making sensible decisions, just like a 24 years old, just like a 14 years old. Your age doesn’t give you a passe-droit to be a dick to people you admire (!!!???!)

3/I won’t even touch on the subject of hate reading because that’s just straight up insanity.

But it’s just… hate and tantrums and anger breeds more hate and tantrums and anger. There isn’t a virtuous way out of that, and I’d love for people to…just, cater to a more positive experience for everyone.

When your fingers are typing rot on your computer, you are venomizing everything that it touches: the people who will read it AND the people who will respond to it.

So far, from what I have seen, this behaviour leads to only one thing: depressed writers/artists/etc who stop writing/drawing/etc, or pull their work, or take breaks, or retreat from the limelight because it is too much.

You are pushing too much.

Enthusiasm is wonderful. It’s a powerful tool and should be used, everyone on this fandom is posting because we looked at The Thing and thought, “yeah.” No one in the history of the world (I hope) has posted after thinking “that is straight up shit and I hate it with a passion.”

Enthusiasm does need to be curated in a healthy way. I understand that Fandom is for fans, but it is also by fans. No one here is better, everyone here is different.

Some writers have a voice that resonate with more people, or stories that resonate with more people, and that is perfectly fine, but, once again for the people in the back, do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

In what universe, in what galaxy do you believe complaining about someone’s work will make them go “oh right, nevermind all the work I put into this thing I love, let me just do the thing a random stranger is asking me to do.”

Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Maybe I sound like bitch, but by god, the shit I’ve heard from my “popular” friends the past few months is absolutely mad. Mad, people.

You are normal people, and SO ARE THEY.

They have lives and interests and they are people. Treat them as such.

Do not confuse Enthusiasm with Entitlement.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk, I hope everyone enjoys Le Mange Dieu et le Dévoreur de Mondes, which we wrote and enjoyed writing, and which does not mean other writers weren't doing their own thing and writing other stuff in the meantime, and I HOPE we can all start to have some fucking respect for the people who spend hoursdaysweeksmonths pouring over a project and posting it for fucking free, all at once, so it’s not stressful for the reader. YOU.

Because against all fucking odds, we actually care about our readers. When you’re being nice.

Thank you and good day from a Fandom Elder.

#fanfiction #fanficwriter #marauders #fandom #MDDM #jegulus fic #marauders fandom #let's be cool yeah?

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coelacanth-designs · 2 months

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Hi I don’t know who u r but ur apparently friends w a few of my friends so im gripping you shaking you and i want to know everything about your AU also sorry if im sounding unhinged im sending this ask at 4am bc im not scared to send asks at this time

WOA, I mean to be fair its 3 AM for me and I’ve been up reading the staple “silly things” ao3 fic LMAO.

But also yeah I’m assuming you mean Blood and Ichor! Which in that case I won’t say everything since I’d want to reveal more of that plot on here through art. HOWEVER! Allow me to explain!

To start:

Soul - Stratos

Mind - Kairos

Heart - Ichor

This AU as a synopsis deals with the opposition that, instead of heart and mind fighting. It’s Mind and Soul, continuously arguing over who could run the Whole better. Meanwhile Heart being more withdrawn and avoidant of arguments and fights.

I wanted this to deal with a couple of things such as characters that are these big and stunning ethereal creatures that live/ have these human -esk shells/ skins they live within. The idea that they just want to either understand, or be human, and the maddening aspect when they have to accept they can’t.

Thus it being called Blood and Ichor as I like the juxtaposition of Blood being what flows through human bodies and Ichor being depicted as what flows through the gods veins. This being part of the argument and discourse between Stratos and Kairos. Both aside from being inherently arrogant and prideful jerks, hate the idea they aren’t truly human, they can never fully relate to the Whole and so they take it out on one another.

What about Ichor though? Well Ichor they don’t particularly like. Not for things Ichor has done mind you, but for the fact that Ichor doesn’t seem to have the same issues if not tries to have them embrace their inhumanity. Ichor also being a slight nod to Icarus and his wax wings since, *symbolism we love it*. Ichor is actually quite a bit softer spoken then the other two, understanding that if he tries to argue it can spell disaster for him. (So he is at fault partially due to avoidance of action)

Oh, I will say some little notes I do find funny even if I won’t explain all of the things I’ve planned for them :00

-Stratos is short, like 5’5 and I can and will make them shorter. He HATES that Kairos is taller than them and will never tell this to Kairos (Kairos is 6’2 btw)

- Stratos cares, ALOT, for their appearance, it helps them feel secure in who they are if they like how they look. Kairos seeing this, reflected it a bit in his own appearance if you look at them side by side.

Meanwhile Ichor (whenever I finish theirs lol) I tried to show Kairos and Stratos’ designs as still being aligned and cohesive between the three. Ichor’s outfit is while a bit more regal akin to the others, but is softer to reflect that separation!

(This kind of moment actually happening between the three of them is rare so take this as a treat LMAO)

Anywho, I’m always happy to answer more questions about them, I absolutely a d o r e these three and they will not leave my mind-

#my art #art #character art #artists on tumblr #ocs #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash #digital art #cccc oc #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #coela doodles #coela art #blood n ichor

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 3 months

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Okay, if you were asked who are in Merlin BBC that you can see based on canon that are gay/bi/pan/demi, which characters are they? Why?

I’m just gonna note that I’m not attached to any sexuality headcanon because people are going to have different opinions and it seems daft to lose more than half the fan content (art, fics, etc) just because of a headcanon. I’ll read more or less anything, I play around with queer themes in my writing fairly regularly and multiship everyone in the show, sometimes with characters from other fandoms too, but these are the sexualities I’ve written most of for each character otherwise this would be way too long.

And I know I’m assigning modern understandings of sexuality to medieval characters, but it’s a show with dragons and magic, also capes, a French castle, and whatever the hell that chainmail was so I think I can be excused for my historical inaccuracy.

Merlin: either gay or bi with a a preference for men. I could never get myself to really like Freya in the show, she wasn’t bad and I didn’t hate her, I usually just forget about her because it was one episode so I didn’t have enough time to get attached. She deserved more screen time and I love what the fandom has done with her character, but I usually see her where Merlin’s shipped with someone else so I honestly forget their romance exists most of the time. Other than that, I usually see him shipped with knights or Arthur or if he’s shipped with another woman, it’s someone who didn’t get enough screen time to get attached, or a mergwenthur (is that their ship name?) poly relationship.

Arthur: bi and demi. He needs time to like someone, canonically only started wearing a shirt after he got married but he walked around his chambers naked when it was just Merlin/no sexual implications in a servant of two masters. I’ve done deep dive character analysis into that and what it says for their trust of one another if anyone’s interested. It goes into them being platonic but acting like a couple and why meant so much for me to see as a kid and also why I think that proves their relationship is more than words can fully encapsulate. Also he’s had crushes on men and women so bi just fits.

Gwen: bi with a preference for men, she and Morgana had chemistry and I ship them pre season 3 but after that, not so much. Also had crushes on Lancelot, Merlin and married Arthur. They’re an adorable couple, honestly I love them. I don’t really have much else to say.

Morgana: aroace lesbian. Just my favourite headcanon, I like that she never had a canon relationship but she definitely had chemistry with Gwen. They’re just sweet together. I don’t know, mostly just vibes and my desire for more aroace rep.

Lancelot: bi with a preference for women. Gwen and Merlin. Yeah, that’s pretty much all I have to say. I just love that he’s such a great guy, I don’t think there’s anything more to it than two crushes in canon and vibes. I’ve written him as unlabelled or queer a fair amount, it really just depends.

Leon: Romance and sex averse aroace. Again, I just want representation and think he’s cool. I’ve seen him shipped with others, but I tend to default to aroace Leon in my own works more than anything else. Occasionally I’ll give him a qpr but it just depends on what I’m writing.

Gwaine: aromatic pansexual, he likes flirting but I think the idea of a permanent long term relationship would be “the one to tie him down” and it never entirely fits right. I’ve seen him shipped with Percival, I love that but usually if I’m writing it, I’ll have them in a qpr. I think he definitely feels low levels of romantic attraction but not enough to want a romantic relationship with someone, he loves so much, just not in the traditional ways and writing aroallo Gwaine is always super fun.

Elyan: I headcanon Elyan as trans masc but I don’t think I’ve got any specific headcanons for his sexuality. I’ve probably written him straight slightly more than anything else, but it’s a close tie between writing him straight and bi. It never usually comes up, so maybe just unlabelled or queer. I don’t know, he’s just Elyan. That’s all really.

Percival: I know in canon he had a wife and kids, I write him as being gay more than anything else, but my main headcanon tends to be that he’s bi or pan. Purely based on vibes but if it’s not relevant to the plot, I won’t bother mentioning it.

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scottxlogan · 21 days

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Helllloooozzz I got really into scogan recently and because people never tag it it’s been hard to find domestic family fics for them and family fics are my favourite thing like, ever, and there’s only so many times a kitty like me can attempt to sift thru the mpreg tag to find something readable before it’s noggin goes a bit loose, so have ya got any recs ?? ^w^ I’ve looked up so many rec lists but no one lists family fics specifically :’3

Welcome to the fandom! You'll find a lot of really nice people here who will be able to point you in the direction of what you're looking for as there are some who probably know better than I do. If you're looking to chat with other fans there's a Scogan Events discord at https://discord.gg/FmJ24gFJ6X that takes part in a Scogan related bingo for writing, art, etc and other small events all year long. Plus, there's some great people to chat about Scogan with too if you're looking to interact with others who love the ship.

As for recs, I'm going to throw this out here for some of my followers to see if they have some favorites that might help you find what you're looking for. Off hand I know that Tweedle has written a few family fics with Scogan. They're up at her AO3 page at https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiAnLake/. In terms of my own stories, I know I've done a few and I'll list them below. I'm sure I'm missing some, but if anyone else has some recs/suggestions, please help me out here and add them for @beepmeowz if you can.

My fics (off hand that I can think of them. Not all are domestic fluff, but I'm sure some of my followers here can help out with the list of family stories)

Working It Out (One Shot/Rated T) Logan's stressed after finding Laura with a new companion who wants to be more than friends. Scott does his best to calm his husband down after Logan tries to follow Scott's approach to parenting.

Gone Forever (Multi-Chapter/Rated E) After the events of The Wolverine, Logan goes on a journey of his own to discover truths about the life he put behind him. An accident, a run in from a face from his past and a misunderstanding lead him closer to the truth he'd been seeking out, but will it be the key to his ending or his happily ever after? (This story features Scott as a single parent to a young Nathan as Logan finds himself finding love and embracing the family that was always just out of his reach)

Saturday Morning (One Shot/Rated G) Logan takes a moment to reflect on the blessings he's been given in his life.

We're All Different Now (One Shot/Rated M) When a mysterious woman from the future enlists Logan's help to change the past by saving Charles Xavier's life, Logan finds himself back in time at a pivotal place in time. With his mission to save Charles in mind Logan finds himself distracted by his feelings for Scott Summers, a man he loved and lost years before Logan was given a second chance to make things right. Armed with the mission to change only the fate of Charles and nothing else, Logan is torn between doing what was asked of him and following his heart to find a way to make things right with the one man he'd been forced to face a lifetime without the first time around. Will the second time around prove to be a means of repairing the damage that was done or will Scott and Logan's ill-fated romance repeat the same pattern with disastrous consequences?

And finally this one is a WIP series with a one shot and a multichapter, but it doesn't have a lot of family stuff yet as I have it still working out but it is a series that takes place after the movie Logan where Logan is still alive and finds his way back to Scott and Laura if you will.

It's up at

Scott makes a bold decision to resurrect his fallen lover, but in bringing Logan back to life, will it prove to be the key to saving the future or the key to destruction for humanity and mutants alike? How will Logan adjust to his return to a world that moved on in his absence?:

#cyclops #wolverine #scott summers #james howlett #scogan #logan #x-men #scogan fanfics #beepmeowz #looking for help with this

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farm-witches-fic-recs · 6 months

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Farm witch friends, you have done the coven proud.

We've got so many good recs it's going to take a few weeks to share them all!

Starting with these that were recommended more than once, if you haven't spend some time with these fan favorites, you should check them out now! And leave the authors some love, of course.

========

Everyday Magic (houdini74/@mostlyinthemorning)

Each magic story is so unique, so sweet, so... D&P!

I couldn’t pick just one of these wonderfully variable scenarios that all include just a little (or maybe a lot of) magic added to the perfect scene setting and banter.

Favored Nations (@blueink3)

ALL OF IT! It’s my go-to when I’m feeling down, when I need to revise our boys. The characters, writing, and plot are all amazing.

Amazing world building, very in character slow burn.

The ultimate slow burn, the perfect love story set amongst the wonders of Broadway and NYC.

It’s just so, so good! I am a sucker for secret romance fics, and this one has that and so much more. Add in some Shakespearean theater with a twist and just the right amount of angst and sexiness, it’s just perfect! I love it so much.

This author knows David, Patrick, and the NY theater world inside and out. The volume and level of specificity, volume, tenderness, anxiety, and love of these characters and worlds is astounding. The characterization is so vivid, it's the easiest fic to forget isn't canon.

Fifteen hundred miles (morehuman)

I go back to this fic a lot! I just love the idea of them both challenging themselves and finding out what they are capable of.

The most incredible journey, a gift to go along with them in it.

I carry these heart-shapes only for you (@ladyflowdi and @ships-to-sail)

I love this transportative, visual feast of historic fiction. Luscious WW2 Paris is so vividly portayed and David’s wild, wealthy, LGBTIQ+out flamboyance juxtaposed to the farm-boy turned military-man Patrick is sexy and sweet. It undoes me every time. I actually first came to the piece via FairManor’s outstanding podfic. Both the text and the podfic are high art. It’s not just one of my favorite fan-fics. It’s one of my favorite stories of ALL time in any genre. I read/listen and I am at the Gaston, riding on the back of Patrick’s motorcycle, kissing in windmills, eating crepes, touring junk shops & dancing naked to 40’s blues. I’d give anything to see this as a film with Dan & Noah & cast. I want a leather bound print copy of it. Also - The epilogue is progressive, heartbreaking thoughtful genius. I’ve just finished rereading & listening to it again. Each time there are new Easter eggs to be found. Joyous.

It's just the most beautiful piece of writing ever written. Descriptive, lyrical, hot, stunning, heartbreaking. It has everything.

I’d swing with you for the fences (@nontoxic-writes)

Achingly sweet and fluffy all set in the perfect baseball/famous AU with secret relationship AND musician Patrick. I come back to reread this one a lot!

What isn't there to love? Baseball, long distance relationship, sex, songs, coming out to the parents, coming out to the team, coming out to the world, excellent use of side characters....I could go on and on. There are so many amazing fics out there, but I've read this one at least a dozen times!

Incorrect (@lisamc-21)

You can hear David saying it, but now picture the Maldives.

A beautifully written story of our boys meeting on vacation. Their trip is so sweet and so hot, and when they say goodbye, it's heartbreaking. The twist- they are both famous in their own worlds but don’t recognize each other so don’t realize who the other has hooked up with. When their week ends, they try to maintain a long-distance friendship as they learn who the other is. What was a hot hookup becomes a slow burn, and it’s amazing!!

The Last Rose Video (@distractivate)

Gorgeous writing, the perfect mix of canon and AU, clever plot, great dialogue. The fic I read over and over. It’s as comforting as a warm blanket.

Swoon. SWOON.

Strike Anywhere (@madlori)

Hot firefighters. Hot sex. Hot romance. But like in a Sandra loves Keanu sliding out of a speeding bus kind of way.

Hot hot hot! That’s the first work. Then- the author developed a prequel that is also hot but is also funny, loving, sweet. Love fireman Patrick!

This enemies-to-lovers-to-secret-husbands story featuring Patrick Brewer as a firefighter, is deliciously tropey and blazing hot, but also it’s written with such authentic emotion and perfect banter that it keeps me coming back to read it whenever I need a mood lift.

Such great heights (@likerealpeopledo-on-ao3)

Great story, the very best jokes, and the wedding date chapter is so good it would work as a stand alone fic.

It's got the mother of all fake dating scenarios, and Stevie in this in among the best I've ever read her. It's also very very funny. All the times when they say Feel The Air crack me up every time!

Sustineo (@rockinhamburger)

This is a perfectly paced one-shot AU that builds a world in which David is a brilliant, stormy, reclusive artist whose whose treatment by the press (and one Sebastien Raine) has made him unwilling to engage with the world…. Until he meets an intuitive and kind art writer who sees him for everything that he is (and can be). All of characters here are perfect and I love the descriptions of David’s art.

Incredibly hot art fic.

You can fall (sweetsirius/@wordthieve)

It takes the David and Patrick rescue each other theme of the show and makes the stakes even higher. Plus it's just a genuinely beautiful piece of writing.

The story arc and pacing are fantastic. I love how David and Patrick's relationship develops and how Patrick learns to open himself up again after grief. It's incredibly well written. I've read it so many times, from full read thrus to dipping in and out of my favorite moments and chapters.

Patrick is so heartbroken, but then he meets David. So romantic, and feels lived in.

#friends of farm witches fic recs #sc fanfic #sc fic rec #schitt's creek fanfic #schitts creek fic #schitt's creek fic #sc fic #david rose #patrick brewer #david x patrick

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eunseokstulip · 2 years

Text

Fic recs! (Mostly NCT)

I’m finally making a fic rec post! Most of the time I read a good fic, I don't save it which I then regret if I want to come back to it so here we are.

Mostly NCT Dream and mostly smut. I’ll put the fic description and my own opinions for each one, but I don’t read for all members so sorry about that haha. Hopefully I can build it up and add more people as we go.

I added genre and descriptions too, hopefully its helpful to others even if I added it for my memory’s sake!

NCT

김도영 - Kim Doyoung

Under the Stars (8k) @jinjikook

Genre: smut + a tiny bit of fluff at the end; domestic AU + church boy! doyoung

Description: you’re forced to go to the equivalent of bible camp, out in the forest. unfortunately, you’re also forced to share a tent with a resident goody-two-shoes and you decide to have a little fun messing with him. turns out, it brings him to his limit and pushes him over the edge.

My notes: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT THIS IN MY ORIGINAL LIST I love this fic. I love it. It’s SO GOOD like its the only fic I didn't have written down because the name and the author are engrained in my brain.

이마크 - Mark Lee

Delphinium. @ncteez Part one (16.3k), part two (23k)

Genre: Smut, angst, some fluff in pt1, lots in 2. virgin religious mark, pagan reader, mentions of questioning faith, un-holy behavior, coming to terms, making out, holding hands, mark’s first ever orgasm ect....

Description: It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even know why you cared that he didn’t believe in pre-marital sex, but it didn’t stop you from arguing with him about it. You didn’t intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.

My notes: Basically Mark who's done nothing - never even kissed a girl - fighting and questioning his own morals regarding religion. I was so hooked, once I started I could not stop and I’ve read both parts more than once since. The smut is sensual and the feelings are displayed well. Very well written, but anything from this author is honestly her whole masterlist is worth checking out.

Watch Me. (14.6k) @sluttyten

Genre: non-idol au, voyeurism, masturbation, snowballing, squirting, blowjobs

Description: you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

My notes: Pretty self explanatory but two horny people who live across from each other and Mark who doesn’t know how to shut curtains. The tension is immaculate. Another author with a top tier masterlist to look at too.

Gorgeous @lucyandthepen Part one (12.4k), part two (16.6k)

Genre: college / football au, romance, humor, smut.

Description: you don’t know what in the football uniform mark is wearing is so attractive. maybe it’s how broad is shoulders always look in that jersey. maybe it’s how nicely accentuated his ass is when he’s running. or, maybe, just maybe, it’s how painfully conspicuous the outline of his cock is through those pants. or, you know. all of the above.

My notes: Best friends to lovers with jock Mark! I prefer part one, but I thought I’d add part two in there since it’s still very good (I just don't like daddy/mummy kinks). Part one is shower sex with Mark (soososososo good) and part two is a threesome with left out, best friend Hyuck. I loved the writing of emotions, such as nerves, arousal, fluster and admiration throughout both parts. Honestly when an author makes the feelings tangible it just adds so much dimension to writing.

황런쥔 - Huang Renjun

Art Of Innocence (11.8k) @jenonctcity

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst, loss of virginity.

Description: Art and gaming. That’s all Renjun found himself doing. Of course he spent time with his friends, but he had to be dragged away from his games console or easel first. Renjun had been brought up around art, his mother being an artist and his father being a drama teacher. So it wasn’t a shock to anyone when he decided to study art at university. His quiet, shy, nerdy nature meant that he didn’t get much attention when walking around campus, which is just how he liked it. You however, had found him on your first day of university and had stuck to him like glue. He pretended as if you didn’t mean that much to him, but you and him both knew he would be lost without you. Only, you didn’t know he was a virgin. So after you found out about the pact from one of the other boys, you couldn’t wait to intercept his gaming session and quiz him on his innocence. You couldn’t help it, but you suddenly saw him in a different light, one that had your fingers tingling and stomach flipping. The same way Renjun had felt looking at you since the first day he’d met you.

My notes: Description sums it up. I have read this an ABSURD amount of times. I want this fr omg its so <3. There is a Jeno instalment to the series (The Virgin Diaries) too, also recommended!

50 Shades of Paint (17.3k) @sparklysung

Genre: smut, fluffish, angsty, a bit of crack | non-idol!au, best friends!au

Description: teaming up for an artsy tiktok trend with your best friend should be a fun and wholesome experience. but when it quickly turns into paint wars, you and renjun find yourselves involved in a rather messy situation, especially if your innocent video turns out going viral for all the wrong reasons.

My notes: Fucking in Taeil’s art studio (poor Taeil) after Renjun can’t hide his attraction for you... Very hot and I love how Renjun’s portrayed in this (I also just love Renjun)

이동혁 - Lee Haechan

Swallow Your Words (6k) @sparklysung

Genre: enemies to lovers!au, smut, switch!donghyuck, switch!reader.

Description: it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

My notes: Well my original description in my notes app was “FVGBHJKEVYWGGYEFTGRWYTFGYWRGYFRGVFRVWVQEVRGYRW” if that explains how I felt about this in any way. I come back to this fic frequently, it has to be the best written lap dance I've ever read.

Pussy Fiend @domjaehyun Part one (28.2k), part two (40.7k)

Genre: smut, humor, fluff; college au, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, roommate au.

Description: uhhh he likes you and is a fiend for pussy idk bestie.

My notes: Such a small summary for such a long fic, but definitely one of the best smuts I’ve ever read. Basically roommate Haechan and you are always bickering, and he's always making sexual jokes until one day, you fuck. I really love cocky Haechan. Part 2 is pretty much 40k of pure smut like holy shit, consider donating to the writer because nearly 70k of writing so well is truly amazing.

Hot & Cold (36k) @ddeonuism

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, comedy (crack treated seriously), mild angst, “opposites attract” kinda trope, non-linear narrative, slice of life (kind of), no smut but suggestive.

Description: Donghyuck and Y/N, Y/N and Donghyuck. Whatever the order was, everyone knew it wasn’t the same without the other; everyone knew that you two would end up together, one way or another. Only, no one ever told Donghyuck that it would take this long. It took an unnecessary long time for him to get where he wanted you to be, but it was worth all the years if it meant he’d get you in the end. After all, he wouldn’t spend all of his time and effort to plan on confessing with an old pink Nintendo DS Lite and a Pokémon Pearl cartridge.

My notes: Made me feel so loved. Shed a tear. Made me delusionally in love with an unobtainable person. When will it be MY TURN?!!! I loved how Hyuck was portrayed, it was just so <3.

I’d Like To See You Try (6.7k) @yutasbellybuttonpiercing M, A.

Genre: non idol!AU, smut, enemies to lovers, switch!Haechan, switch!reader

Description: Once Donghyuck shows up in your Discord to game with you and your friends, a dispute arises quickly. Donghyuck gets on your nerves, though he’s hot as fuck, and you wonder how far you can push him until he breaks.

My notes: Gamer Hyuck fucks you in front of yours and his friends (dream) who are watching via stream. Holy mf shit. Oh my god. What the fuck.

Started With a Kiss (10k) @sundaysundaes

Genre: protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Description: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

My notes: “practicing” sex always does well. Lighthearted smut scene, just fun to read!

나재민 - Na Jaemin

Cherry Girl! (16.7k) @tyonfs

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, college au, gamer au (twitch streamer!jaemin), friends to lovers, fuckboy au, friends with benefits au, a little bit of angst

Description: virginity is a social construct, so it’s not like na jaemin had to know you were a pure, untouched maiden. okay, so maybe you should’ve told him that before he was knuckles-deep inside you. or, in which progressing from best friends to best friends with benefits is hard, especially when you both have feelings for each other.

My notes: One day I'll experience head as good as it was written in this.

EXO

도경수 - Do Kyungsoo (D.O)

Across the Way (10k) @kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Voyeurism, semi-public sex, masturbation, dirty talk, kyungsoo in glasses.

Description: Kyungsoo has always been a guy who abides by the rules. He makes decisions based on logic, not impulse; he is the type of guy who wears a suit to work and plans his meals out for each week. Which is why it’s so strange, when Kyungsoo’s neighbor moves in and, rather than be turned off by her games, he finds he can’t look away. Worse, sometimes he even plays along. (Loosely inspired by EXO’s 24/7).

My notes: I think I just really like the idea of having a hot neighbour idk... but uh yeah Kyungsoo gets off by seeing you across from his window but he doesn't know you see him, so naturally you keep riling him up until you're together in person. I love this fic, the internal battle Kyungsoo faces and the smut is really good.

BTS

김태형 - Kim Taehyung (V)

Heatwave (12k) @curly-bangtan

Genre: roommate au, friends to lovers au (f2l), smut, angst if you squint, attempt at sparse crack

Description: When your town is hit with a heatwave, and the air conditioning at your shared place coincidentally malfunctions, you start to go a little crazy at your shit luck because there’s nothing you hate more than clammy pits, while Taehyung goes a little crazy thinking you’re trying to seduce him with your tiny shorts and popsicle-sucking skills.

My notes: Ah the very first fic that made it onto my notes app ‘top tier’ list because it really is top tier. Its hot, clothes come off, popsicles are consumed and then its another type of hot, clothes continue coming off and popsicles start being used for more than just consumption. The desperation was so gtrefjue I could overlook my dislike for daddy kinks. Its a shame, because I used to read lots of BTS smut as there's so much of it and its so good, but I never saved any... maybe its time to go back for a second.

938 notes · View notes

baekguuuuu · 2 years

Text

Enchanted

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: TimeTravel!au (this is the last one i swear), romance, angst, Heavily inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 20.5k

Disclaimer: As mentioned, this fic is heavily inspired by the song Enchanted. This is purely fictional and not based on what happened in real life.

Summary: Tired of constant fights of your parents, you found herself in the attic where an old wardrobe stood at the corner years before your family moved in the house.

What could an antique furniture do to change your life?

This is not how a family is supposed to be.

Constant arguing. Constant yelling. Constant throwing whatever they could reach at each other.

Constant discussion about divorce.

Being the eldest daughter in an Asian household was a lot to take—an overwhelming roller-coaster of emotions throughout my entire life.

I must be the sacrificial lamb amongst my siblings.

My grades must be soaring high. Anything beneath an A was unacceptable, and I must prepare for an earful about “not being good enough.”

Dreams? I dismissed the meaning of that word a long time ago. My only career choices are engineering, accounting, law, or medicine.

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said when I was in fifth grade, and wanted a camera for my birthday. I was fascinated with taking pictures when I was young. Instead, I got a sad birthday cake from the grocery store and an outdated Jansport backpack as a gift.

You might think, “Oh, life must be financially burdensome for their family.” I felt so, too. And that was true. But my parents would do things differently to my siblings.

I tried to be the daughter they wanted me to be and didn’t ask or think ill towards my parents. However, when I started middle school, I learned that my parents just have favoritism.

And clearly, I was not their favorite.

The middle child, who was just a year younger than me, got to join a Taekwondo lesson as a child, not because our parents wanted him to, but because he wanted to. After a year, he switched to football. After that, he was into boxing.

Just a coincidence?

No, he was our mom’s favorite.

The youngest was three years younger than me, and she was enrolled in an Art school. She also wanted to be a ballerina. My parents were supportive of her. They paid for classes and for her goddamn shoes that needed to be changed every other week.

I thought Art was stupid, Dad?

Oh, right... she was his favorite.

It would be a few more months before I graduated high school, and I couldn’t be more thankful that I received a full scholarship to a university that, fortunately, my parents have always dreamed of.

For years, I’ve already decided to live away from home and opt to stay at the dorms; yet again, I don’t have the right to decide for myself, don’t I?

My mom and dad agreed to let me stay in their house until I got my degree. They were too afraid that I would lose track of my supposed-to-be dream of becoming an Engineer. That was their choice, not mine.

I wanted to take pictures, but they wanted me to build structures.

Tonight was the same as the other nights.

My dad had just gotten home from his nine-to-five desk job and a drinking session with his colleagues, while my mom claimed that she was so stressed from her part-time admin job that she still had to cook and clean after us.

I was the one who did the grocery shopping; I did not own a car and had to ride the bus with plastic bags in my hands. I was the one who washed the dishes and threw the trash out because, apparently, the youngest in this household just got her nails done, and the chores would ruin them.

Dad said the middle child should be excluded from the chores because he is a man. I honestly don’t get the logic behind his words. We are in the 21st century, not in the 1900s.

Despite all my efforts, I was still not being credited. Yet again.

Dad was an old-fashioned guy. He wanted to be served by his wife and his daughter—well, only me because his precious youngest daughter can’t do shit.

I was already in my bedroom and ready to tuck myself in bed, as it was a school night when Dad arrived. He banged on the front door behind him as he came in. It started with yelling, cursing, and throwing stuff, as usual.

Then, the divorce.

It’d be like this every single time I could identify the scenario as a routine in this house.

The only thing I could not and could never accept was that after this night, my mom would post on her social media how perfect our family was—or, more accurately, how she would portray it. “My family is my everything,” she would caption our family photo on Facebook.

Bullshit. Everything is bullshit.

I was seated on my bed; my eyes were closed as I listened to their argument. “I don’t love you anymore, I haven’t for the past ten years,” my dad screamed, earning a violent sob from my mom.

Then I heard a glass shattering on the ground—Mom probably threw another of her vase collections to dad. “Then leave! I don’t need you here! I don’t need anyone in this family. All of you can leave for all I care!”

The only thing I could do was bury my face in my hands to muffle my sobs. Whenever I thought I was already numb to this situation, I’d be proven wrong. It was still painful. To be in this family.

After a while, the house turned silent. There was no shouting, cursing, or throwing objects. It was just an eerie silence. Then suddenly, the door across my room opened and closed, and then the bedroom beside mine.

Oh, right.

Mom had to comfort my brother, telling him it was just an argument and everything would be fine.

Obviously, Dad went to my sister’s room to do the same.

I almost forgot that this is also part of their routine—comforting their children.

Some people might think they would come into my room after calming down their favorite child.

No. They never did.

I had to wipe my own tears because no one would do it for me.

With a heavy heart, I pushed the comforter away from my body and placed my feet on the floor. Wiping the leftover tears, I went out of my room, and the only place I could think of was my safe place—the attic.

Unlike other houses, our attic is well kept, courtesy of the loner in this house—me. You barely could see dust, spiderwebs, and all that stuff. This was my only escape from this house since my siblings thought they were too cool to hang out with me, while my parents plainly didn’t care.

The hand-pulling light bulb dangled from the ceiling as I turned on the source of brightness in these four walls.

A sigh escaped my lips while I looked around the room, inspecting if someone had come in without my knowledge. When I confirmed that everything was in its place as I left them, I pulled out my iPhone from my pyjama’s pocket and was glad that I had charged the device before I came up here.

February 20, 2020, 01:50 AM, the date and time read.

With my legs crossed, I sat on the wooden floor as I scrolled through my gallery for the random photos I had taken the past few days.

I automatically smiled at each file. Some were pictures of my friends at school, while most were pictures of trees, trails, random people on the street.

I was focusing on one picture I took last week: a police station built over a hundred years ago. It was near my house, and since I was a kid, older people would tell us stories about how it was requested to be demolished and relocated to a much more commercial place several times but was protected by an influential family.

My thoughts were too occupied that I didn’t hear the scratching noise at the corner of the room. It took at least ten seconds for me to grasp that something was inside the old wardrobe at the very far end of the attic.

I wasn’t a scaredy cat; at least, I believed I was not. But when the scratching continued, I jumped on my feet, turning on the flashlight on my phone to shine some light at the dark corner of the room. I’m praying it was just a mouse or a cat—anything but the G word.

“Hello?” I stupidly called in a small voice, thinking whatever it was would respond to my greeting. It took at least five seconds before the scratching against the wooden door of the wardrobe became a bit louder.

I should have been running back to my room, screaming my lungs out for help, but instead, I took a step towards the noise, opening the wardrobe door slowly. I exhaled before rolling my eyes when I saw the tricolor cat I adopted from the streets a few days ago. I had to beg on my knees to my parents to let me keep the feline.

I clicked my tongue, carrying the purring cat in my hands. “How did you get in here, you silly?”

Closing the wardrobe door, the old hanging light bulb suddenly went out, and I could feel my heart pounding loudly in my chest. I hugged the kitten close as I fumbled on my phone to turn on the flashlight again, but the scratching noise came back before I could click the icon.

And this time, it was louder than ever. It couldn’t be the cat I was holding. I could feel his fur in my hands, paw and nails—everything. It was not him who was making the eerie noise.

The hair on the back of my neck was reacting to my fear, and the lump in my throat threatened to escape as a wail.

The noise was coming from behind, not from inside of the wardrobe.

I may excel in my studies and be the top student in our class, but I was a loser when it came to survival skills. I was a slow-witted, pathetic human being. The first thing that came to my mind was to hide in the wardrobe and close the door.

Which I did.

With my eyes closed, I hugged the kitten on my chest tighter, praying for my life rather than calling for help. I couldn’t count how many times I chanted every prayer I learned from being forced to go to church every Sunday with my family.

I waited until the noise stopped before I could open my eyes. I was too frightened to move and could only peek through my lashes. It was too dark inside the wardrobe, and I couldn't see anything. I moved my foot to push the door a little bit, and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief when a light peeked through the door.

I didn’t notice when my bare feet touched wet grass instead of the wooden floor of my parents' attic. I didn’t feel the summer breeze instead of cold winter air. I didn’t notice the bright sun and clear sky when, in fact, I clearly remember that it was past midnight when I went to the attic.

Not until I instinctively hugged the cat who was supposed to be in my arms when I came into the wardrobe just to find out that he was nowhere to be seen. I turned around to look inside the furniture, but my furry companion was also not there.

My eyes were wide as I slowly took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Empty lots and vintage cars that I could only imagine seeing inside a museum were now on the bumpy road. People were also wearing crisp suits, dresses, and fancy hats.

A passerby would give me a weird look, analyzing my current state: in shock and in my Winnie the Pooh’s pyjamas.

I was too terrified to move a muscle, and I couldn’t find my voice to speak out. I stood on my spot for an eternity, trying to convince myself that this was just a dream.

It should be.

When I finally found the courage to move, a hand grabbed my arm, preventing me from moving from my spot. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder and saw two uniformed personnel eyeing me from head to toe.

“We received a report that an odd lady is wandering about.” The man with a badly shaved beard spoke, removing his hand from my arm and showing his baton, probably to intimidate me.

“I—I’m,” I cleared my throat when my voice broke, “I’m not wandering about. I—I’m actually lost.”

I assume the two police officers looked at each other before one of them nodded his head and asked me to follow him. I had no idea what was happening or where I was, so I followed what they asked me to.

We arrived at a small complex with other uniformed personnel present. When I went in the door, they all looked at me warily. I could only hang my head in fear and embarrassment as I followed the man to a small room at the back.

There was a small table and two chairs across from each other, and he sat on one of them. I stood by the door, waiting for an invitation to be seated.

“You may take a seat,” the policeman extended his arm towards the chair before him.

I obeyed and gently took a seat. I was fidgeting with the ring on my index finger. A few weeks ago, I bought it from the street of Hongdae and forgot to remove it before going to bed.

“Before we start,” the policeman sighed, lacing his fingers together before putting them on the table, “may I ask what you are wearing?”

I instantly inspected my clothes; it was just an ordinary pajama I bought online. It’s 100% cotton, but that’s not the point.

“I—uhm... it's a pajama I ordered online, and they were on sale—”

“I beg your pardon?”

I felt my bottom lip tremble, too intimidated by the policeman interrogating me and had no idea what I was supposed to tell him. Helpless was an understatement to explain my situation.

“It’s—uh... pajama?”

He visibly fumed, pursing his lips as he eyed me with concern and, at the same time, exasperation. “You are unmistakably unwell, and I require to have knowledge of your origin for the reason we can have a conversation with your guardian by allowing you on loose.”

I quickly shook my head, denying his claim that I was somewhat insane by just saying pyjama. “I’m not unwell, sir. I—I’m just… confused. I-I don’t know where I am.”

The officer squinted his eyes, his lips forming a thin line. “You don’t know where you are?”

I slowly nodded, unsure if I was saying the right thing at the right time. “Yes, sir.”

He let out a breath, shaking his head not so subtly. “You are currently in Jung district. We spoke the same language then I deduce that you are from this country. Unless you are espionage?”

Jung district? That means I was still within the area. But why were they assuming that I was unwell just because of my choice of sleepwear or using words that normal people didn’t particularly use? I had to use my last few brain cells to comprehend the word “espionage.”

Espionage?

Wait—spying?

My eyes widened, and I quickly shook my head. “N-no, sir. I’m not a spy or some sort. I’m just—I’m an ordinary student who goes to school at—”

“Silence!” the officer roared, slamming his palm on the table that separated us. His voice and action echoed across the small room, making me jump from my seat and tremble in fear.

I whimpered, my head hanging low. “I’m sorry.”

The officer was quiet for almost a minute until I heard him sigh, making me peek under my lashes. He was shaking his head, hands on the table, as he stood up from his seat. “You need to be detained until the Chief gets here. You need to substantiate that you are not a spy.”

“Wait—” I got up from the metal chair. The legs of the furniture made a screeching noise against the cement floor. I held on to his arm, which was a bad idea, as he immediately grabbed both my wrists and held me on the table.

I cried out in pain when the side of my head was slammed forcefully on the surface of the table. “S-sir, please. I swear to God, I’m not what you think I am.”

My choice of words might have been another bad idea, as he fumed and mumbled under his breath how I used God lightly. A tear escaped my eyes when I saw a handcuff that looked different from what I’d seen on television, the internet, etcetera.

I was escorted to the corner of the room, where two separate prison cell exists. As I entered the bars, I saw someone in the other cell. He was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees and hiding his head in his folded arms.

My sniffling went louder when the officer who handcuffed me slammed the cell door as soon as I flopped on the floor. My figure trembled as I instinctively hugged my knees like the man on the other cell.

I closed my eyes, praying that this should be a dream, that I would wake up from it, and that it would be over the second I opened my eyes. However, before I could finish my mumbling, with my eyes still closed, I heard a subtle “psst” on my left.

My left eye opened about a millimeter while shifting slightly to where the sound came from. The man I mentioned earlier was looking at me, though his head was still leaning on his folded arms.

His hair was jet black, his eyes were droopy, his nose was exquisite, and his lips were perfectly pink and glossy.

He cautiously placed his index finger on his lips, gesturing to be hushed. I slowly nodded, not knowing if I could trust my mouth to speak any longer—because the last time I spoke, it led me here.

My confirmation made him smile. His eyes went to the officer on the other side of the room, who was busying himself with something on his desk. When the officer seemed not to care about our small movements, the man in the other cell turned his attention back to me.

“Hey,” he carefully whispered, “what brings you here?”

I shrugged, mirroring his position, leaning the side of my head on my folded arms. “Long story.” I couldn’t help the sigh escaping my nostrils.

The man noticed my distress state and sent a comforting smile.

He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“What about you?” I decided to ask when he caught me staring at him longer than anyone should have.

He also shrugged, heaving a deep sigh, “Long story.”

I shut my eyes and bit my bottom lip to stop the tempted snicker that wanted to escape my mouth—he was mocking my response earlier. When I opened my eyes to look at him, he was already staring at me with a gentle smile on his face.

My cheeks started warming from his gaze, and he probably recognized the pink shade on my skin, so he silently chuckled.

We were just looking at each other as if trying to analyze the dancing orbs staring at one another. I was trying to figure out why I turned calm from just looking at him when in reality, I was an awkward person who would stutter at a simple “How’s your day?” at the grocery store.

I opened my mouth to ask for his name, but a loud voice boomed around the corner. The man on the other cell snapped his head to the culprit at the same time as I did.

A man was wearing a neat tuxedo, his almost grey hairline receding. He looked at the man I was talking to with an anxious look while he examined his state: sitting on the dusty cement floor, he looked dehydrated, and beads of sweat were visible on his forehead from the warm summer weather.

The intruder turned his head to the officer who escorted him to where the tiny prison cells were—and he was also the one who banged my head on the table to handcuff me and the officer who was guarding the cells. “Do you know what you have done?”

The two officers were both silent, their intimidating appearance slowly fading.

“San,” the man on the other cell suddenly called. I turned to look at him, and his gentle smile was gone. He shook his head at the man in the tuxedo asking him to stop talking.

The man in the tuxedo—or San, sighed in defeat, not before glaring at the two officers. “He’s the youngest son of General Byun.”

I furrowed my brows; General Byun rang a bell in the deepest corner of my brain. I swear in my pathetic life that I heard that name somewhere.

However, before I could rummage through my already messed-up brain, I heard the man on my left distantly sighing as he stood on his feet, dusting his pants.

The police officers, who looked terrified, immediately ran to open the cell door on his side. They removed their hats and bowed their heads, apologizing for keeping him in there. He must’ve been from a noble family.

I kept my mouth shut while watching the scene before me. I was not moving a single muscle, too scared that I might do something wrong again, which would lead to much more trouble.

I watched him walk towards San, who was holding the door open for him with my lips pursed.

I didn’t even get a chance to get his name.

Before he could walk out the door, I noticed how tense he was and turned on his heels. His eyes met mine, somewhat with sympathy. He stood before the officers, whose heads were still hanging low, ashamed of what they had done with this man.

“She’s coming with me,” the man announced, which made me gawk, and San looked at him like he suddenly had two heads connected to his neck.

“B-but sir—the girl needs to be detained until the chief—” the police officer who slammed me on the table stammered, rejecting the man’s proposal to let me out of this prison cell and to go with him.

The man just smiled, reaching out to the cell door and shaking it impatiently for the officers to open it. “I will let my father know about it. I’m confident that he will have a conversation with the chief should a problem arise.”

San hastily walks towards the son of the General, holding his arm gently. “Sir, you cannot mingle with a criminal.”

The man let out a psssh, waving his hand to San as if he uttered the most ridiculous thing in the world before nodding to one of the officers to open the cell door. “She was with me when I climbed the wall and managed to run away when you whistled like there was no tomorrow.”

When both officers hesitated to open the cell door, the man shook the bars again, creating a loud rattling noise. The officer who slammed my head on the table scrambled to his feet, clumsily looking for the set of keys hanging on his pants.

When the door finally opened, I was still unmoving on my spot, on the dusty cement floor, hugging my knees while I watched four men wait for me to get out.

As I previously mentioned, my survival skill was set to zero. I may be academically competent, but I knew nothing if it was unrelated to my studies.

That was a huge problem. I know.

My friends in school were trying to help me cope with the outside world. However, the sources have been limited as I was only allowed to get out of the house if it was for school matters, or chores. I had to beg my parents to let me go out with my friends on weekends.

I probably took a while, lost in my thoughts, when the man held out his hands, sending me his gentle smile again. “Come?”

Sparing my last functioning brain cell, I got on my feet, my hand reaching out to his. When my palm touched him, a smile slowly spread on my lips. My anxiousness gradually faded, replaced by a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves.

San walked in front, the police officers trailing just a few steps ahead as they accompanied us to the off-white bumpy vehicle parked by the curb.

As the officers bowed their heads for the trouble, San opened the door, and the man still holding onto it tugged my hand. The corner of his lips quirked up as I looked at him with round, probably scared eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured me, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a comforting circle on the back of my hand. “I will just send you home safely.”

Relief crashed through me, and I believe he noticed it because he chuckled huskily.

Once I was seated in the leather seat of the vehicle, I realized that he was still holding my hand. I smiled, a bit awkward when I tried to slip off his hold.

“Oh,” he gasped when he realized what I was doing, “my apologies.”

His touch lingered on my skin when I removed my hand from his hold. Embarrassed, I placed it on my lap, fiddling with my fingers, waiting for him to speak.

I heard San clearing his throat in the driver’s seat, waiting for an instruction from the man beside me. The latter turned his head to look at me, and I was instantly allured.

“Where to, my lady?”

I ignored the blush from the way he addressed me, shifting my attention to San, who was waiting for a direction of where to drive me.

San scrunched his forehead when I recited my address and the landmark near my house. Nevertheless, he started the vehicle and drove off the curb.

My palms started to sweat when I looked out the window. The establishments on the road that I knew by heart were not there. Instead, there was soil and tall grass all around.

“Apologies, madam,” San met my eyes through the rear-view mirror, “but the road you referred to does not exists I believe.”

“H-huh?” Was all I could mutter before the man beside me clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“And could you enlighten me as to why you did not tell it beforehand?” the man beside me huffed. His gentle exterior had faded, and he had turned to show his authority.

“S-sir Baekhyun, I—”

Baekhyun.

The man’s name was Baekhyun.

“She’s already terrified, San,” Baekhyun explained. “The last thing I want to happen is for her to regret coming with me.”

Unfortunately, I had the cheek to blush at his words, though I managed to ignore that my face was likely crimson red. “I—it’s fine,” I muttered awkwardly. The interruption made Baekhyun turn his head in my direction.

I gave him a tight smile before asking San to pull over so I could get out of the vehicle and familiarized the surroundings to find the correct path to my house.

Baekhyun followed my suit when I stepped out, his shoe wear gravelly strides over the pebbles on the ground to walk beside my figure.

I was starting to lose my mind when I realized that the area was just grass—no houses or buildings. It was pure, empty land.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled under my breath and was already on the verge of crying.

Where the hell am I?

“Holy—what? I beg your pardon?”

Baekhyun was eyeing me concerning how I was yanking my hair out of my scalp, also probably saying things I wasn’t supposed to say... again.

However, it wasn’t long until his fingers circled on my wrists, pulling them away from the strands of my hair. I let my muscles relax, slowly unclutching my fingers away.

That made Baekhyun smile. He nodded his head, “We’re alright. You're alright—you’re safe.”

“Sir?” San’s voice interrupted the scene, though it went unnoticed by Baekhyun, who was still looking intently at me.

“Speak to me?” His hand that was holding my wrist travels to my palm, wrapping his fingers around my hand.

“I—” I choked on my words, having to take a deep breath to speak clearly, “are we in Jung district?”

Baekhyun nodded his head, confirming my question. “Yes, we are.”

Mentally crossing my fingers, I asked him another question and hoped that he would say the answer I wanted. “Jung district, South Korea?”

That made him furrow his brows and look at me like I just muttered the craziest thing he could ever hear. “Were you referring to the southern part of Korea?”

“Sir, I think we should consider going back to the police station,” San walked briskly to pull Baekhyun away from my reach. “She could be an enemy from that country and knows who you are.”

“W-wait—” I screeched; my chest started to heave from the information that I was absorbing one by one. Espionage. Empty land. The old model of vehicles. Enemy. The southern part of Korea...

“Do you mind telling me the date?” My mind started to get lightheaded, but at the back of my mind, I was hoping this was just another weird dream I would get from time to time.

“Today’s the second day of September,” Baekhyun answered, snatching his arm from San, who tried to pull him away. “Are you feeling unwell, sweetheart?”

Despite the nausea, I shook my head and continued to confirm my assumption. “Wha—what year?”

Baekhyun’s frown deepened, clearly not comprehending the point of my questions. Despite that, he still answered my question, and fortunately, I could catch it before my vision blacked out.

“Year 1920.”

Oh, shit.

My forehead felt damp pressure as I slowly regained consciousness. The muscles of my fingers were flexing on their own, and I took a deep breath before shifting my eyelids open.

I blinked a couple of times before visualising the face hovering over my lying figure, eyeing my current state with concern.

Baekhyun.

“Hey,” he stopped me when I tried to sit up. His hand held my shoulder, pushing me back on the spring mattress I was lying on. Once the back of my head hit the soft cushion, he removed the damp cloth from my forehead, brushing the hair stuck on my skin. “Would you like some water?”

I contemplated for a few more seconds before remembering the things that I’d been told before I passed out. I quickly sat on the mattress once again, ignoring the puzzled look on Baekhyun’s face when I hurried away from his touch until my back reached the wall.

“I’m not dreaming?” I croaked, feeling my body tingled from another panic episode, “I—I’m supposed to be in the attic. Who are you—where am I?”

Baekhyun sensed my fear. He withdrew his hands, which were trying to reach out, and instead raised them in front of him, showing me his empty palm before giving me an assuring smile. “Calm down, darling. I will not hurt you.”

“I—” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, “who are you?”

“My name is Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun.” he answered calmly, his voice trying to soothe my nerves.

“Baekhyun,” I repeated. Although I’d already heard his name from San, it felt nice to say it from my lips. “Where—where am I?”

“We are in my house, though I have to apologize for bringing you in the staff’s quarter as I can’t be seen carrying an unconscious lady to my chamber.”

I quickly scanned the room and saw a couple of bunk beds across the room. I had to bite my bottom lip when it trembled. “And you said that it’s year 1920?”

Baekhyun nodded his head, stating the obvious. “Is everything all right? Speak to me. I could help.”

“I’m—” I snivelled; my body trembled in fear. Baekhyun finally found the courage to reach for my hands, holding them in his.

“Shush,” he squeezed my fingers, attempting to calm me, but when my body wouldn’t stop quivering, Baekhyun had done something that I wouldn’t expect him or anyone to do for someone you barely knew.

He bent his neck so he could press his lips on my knuckles. His lips—they were damn soft, and it lingered on my skin even when he pulled away.

When he brought his eyes to meet mine, he smiled, his eyes forming a crescent shape as he did. “I’m here. You’re all right.”

Though slowly, I finally managed to nod as I was still hesitant about my surroundings. But somehow, despite being a stranger, he could shift every fiber in my body with serenity.

“What’s your name?” Baekhyun climbed on the mattress, sitting a few inches away from me, and surprisingly, I didn’t hurry away this time.

I uttered my name as I watched his orbs dance around my facial features. The way he repeated my name and sounded made me even more captivated.

“Can you tell me where you are from?” Baekhyun continued, “I could send you home. Otherwise, I can send someone to look for your family.”

“I’m—” I took a deep trembling breath so I would not have to break again—hopefully, “I’m going to sound crazy, if you want to throw me back to jail, that’s fine—I understand you, but—”

“You’re rambling, love.”

I was this close to passing out again from the endearment he kept using on me. I thought that having my name would make him call me out differently, but I was wrong.

I leaned forward to his ear, and he immediately understood what I wanted to do. He tilted his head so I could reach him quickly. I whispered, “I’m not from here.”

When Baekhyun leaned back to meet my eyes again, I expected him to look confused, but he looked calm and nodded his head. “I realize that.”

His response made me widen my eyes. I gasped, “you do?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I would always wonder on the road and this is the first I saw you—”

“No!” I cried out, burying my face in my hands. “That’s not what I meant.”

Baekhyun held the sides of my head, gently tilting my head up so he could see my face. “I’m sorry, it was not my intention to make you distress. But can you please clarify what you meant with your statement?”

I thought San was just waiting on the other side of the door as he burst inside the quarters with my wail. “Sir?!”

Baekhyun hissed, peeking behind his shoulder to glare at San. “I told you to not come in.”

“No—wait, I’m sorry,” I hiccupped, touching Baekhyun’s arm to calm him down as he looked like he would tackle San any second—poor man.

Baekhyun heaved a sigh before telling San to close the door behind him. The old man stayed by the door as Baekhyun waited for me to clarify my previous statement.

“Baekhyun,” I started, and the man nodded, urging me to continue, “please don’t freak out, okay?”

Because I’m already freaking out.

He nodded his head again, this time interlacing our fingers together.

“I was at the attic in our house when I heard this weird noise coming from a wardrobe, so I went to look for the source of sound. Then something weird happened, the light went out and the noise went from the wardrobe to whatever was behind me and it made me hid inside the wardrobe instead of running away, or screaming for help.”

Baekhyun frowned upon hearing my choice of action—hiding in the wardrobe instead of running away. Nonetheless, he continuously nodded his head as he acknowledged my words.

“Then I waited for a few minutes before opening the wardrobe, and when I stepped out, I was already here, in this place.”

I glanced at San, who had a baffled expression like he was trying to analyze the information I’d just given, and Baekhyun, who kept looking at me with a frown on his face.

“Say something,” I nudged his hand, which was holding mine, making him blink before clearing his throat.

“Apologies,” he has an odd expression that I can’t read, “are you saying that you’ve been kidnapped? Are you from the other country?”

Hearing the other country, San widened his eyes, and panic appeared on his face. “S-sir, I warned you, she might’ve been a—”

“No–no,” I shook my head, quickly denying his allegation, “I’m not a spy, or some sort.”

“In that case...” Baekhyun mumbled. My heart felt like it dropped when he untangled his fingers with mine. “What are you?”

“I’m just an ordinary human being,” I explained, my voice getting wobbly. “I’m a citizen of this country—well, not in this year, but I am.”

This time, San decided to speak up, “Not in this year?”

I was never good at interrogation, especially when I could not voice my opinion in our home. If I did, my parents would never fail to invalidate my emotions.

I didn’t even know I was already crying until Baekhyun tried to wipe my cheek with his fingers. I automatically leaned away from his touch, and I think that confused the man as I was not rejecting his advances until now.

“Just let me go,” I croaked, my eyes pleading to Baekhyun as I told him, “I promise that I will not bother you any longer, or talk about how you helped me out of prison, just—please...”

The quarter was silent for a few minutes, and my heavy breathing and my sniffling could be heard across the room.

“Where will you go?” Baekhyun inquired, finally deciding to speak up. “If you don’t know where you are, where will you go?”

I whimpered, “I—I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, I guess...”

To say that I was disappointed was an understatement when Baekhyun nodded, moving away from the mattress so I could get out of it as well.

When my feet touched the floor, that was only when I realized that I was bared foot all along. There were already scratches on the soles of my feet from walking since I got here, but I ignored the stinging pain and continued to walk out the door.

I was pretty lucky I didn’t bump into someone on my way out. I sneakily glanced around the lot, and it was huge. The staff’s quarters were separated from the manor built in the lot's centre.

It was already dark outside, probably because I had passed out, and it took a couple of hours before I regained consciousness. The night posts on the road were few and not as bright as they were in my time. The road was still dirt with pebbles.

If this was near the Jung district I grew up in, I would know all the alleys and everything, but there were none.

It took me approximately an hour and a half to walk before the police station could be seen, but instead of going straight to the cell again, I turned the other way, hoping to find the wardrobe.

After another fifteen minutes of walking, I reached the old wardrobe again. My heart was pounding in my chest as my hand reached out to the knob, opening it.

It was empty. What did I even expect? A magical light bursting out of the furniture?

I was standing on my feet, unmoving. I was slowly realizing and analyzing all that stuff in my head.

Was the police station the same institution that was built near our house?

If that were the case, my feet would automatically bring me here by heart. This was where my house should be.

I broke like a dam. Violent sobs came out of my mouth when I saw the empty lot. Even our neighbors’ houses were not there. As if to add salt to my wounds, the rain poured. Though I didn’t want to go inside the wardrobe again, I had no choice but to find shelter while waiting for the rain to stop.

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. Since I was a kid, I always had a nightlight with me. My parents... they never bought me a new one.

My father once gave me a small light bulb that I could plug directly into the outlet to have light at night, while my precious younger sister got a ballerina lamp.

I remember my mother scolding me when the electricity went out due to bad weather, and I screamed from the top of my lungs when darkness illuminated my small bedroom. “You’re not a baby anymore! You need to toughen up! You’re scaring your little brother!”

I was only eight at that time.

I never have someone on my side. No one to look out for me. Except for my friends in school. They’ve been there for me. And they gave me an adorable duck nightlight as a gift when we were freshmen. I still have it, using it, and will forever treasure it.

I was only used to my friends who were worried about my well-being; hence, when Baekhyun acted like he would save me from my miserable thoughts, it was awkward, but I let my guard down because he made me calm.

I wouldn’t blame him for acting distant when I narrated what brought me here.

Who in their right mind would believe I came from a wardrobe like the one in The Chronicles of Narnia, where the Pevensies hid and met Aslan?

I somehow wished it would be like that. It’d be much easier to handle than being stuck in the 1920s when a war was going on, and everyone would identify you as a spy.

Holy crap, what if they’d capture me as one? Would I be executed?

I still wanted to go to university, get my bachelor's, master's, and hopefully PhD.

Thousands of thoughts ran through my head at once. I clutched the side of my face while weeping in extreme anguish, regretting the days I wished I wasn’t with my dysfunctional family.

Although I was nobody’s favorite in our household; I’d still take that over this.

As I took another deep, trembling breath between my sobs, I felt a calloused, warm hand over my cold one. My shoulder jumped from the sudden contact; my head whipped up attentively.

“Hey.”

Baekhyun’s finger wrapped around mine as I whimpered upon recognising him. A sense of comfort rushed through my nerves even though I barely knew him.

He tugged on my hand to make me step out of the wardrobe, and I simply set my feet on the muddy ground. I could feel his gaze as he eyed me with concern when I didn’t stop sobbing, though it was more of a hiccup.

“What were you doing in there?” Baekhyun asked when I calmed down a little bit. I raised my head and looked him in the eye, seeing San a few steps behind him.

I unconsciously squeezed his hand holding mine, and my heart couldn’t help but flatter when he tightened his hold, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth in anticipation of my answer.

“This is the wardrobe I was talking about,” I peeked behind my shoulder to look at the strange furniture. “I swear to God, Baekhyun, I—”

“Slow down,” Baekhyun cut my sentence off, “I apologize if I let you leave earlier, but I promised that I’m not going to hurt you and let someone hurt you.”

I jutted my bottom lip, wiping my eyes with my other hand as I sniffed. Though I stayed silent, I found comfort in his words.

Baekhyun gently called my name, his thumb consolingly rubbing at the back of my hand. “I apologize for what happened earlier. It was an unjustified action of mine. I should not have let a lady wander alone at this time of night.”

I nodded, accepting his apologies as I tried to look him in the eye without making my orbs quiver in fear. “I swear, I—I’m not joking around.”

“About what?” Baekhyun inquired, frowning.

“About what I’ve said earlier,” I choked a sob, sniffling like a child. “I really am not from here. I came from this furniture—” I swung my hand to gesture at the eerie wardrobe behind me, and Baekhyun’s eyes shifted to look at the antique for a second.

“Would you mind expounding what you meant, sweetheart?” he straightened his back as he bent to see my face clearly, though he was not that tall—just a few centimeters taller than I was.

I think San also became curious about why he took a few steps forward so he could hear my explanation clearly.

I pulled away my hand from Baekhyun, rubbing my face tiredly before exhaling heavily. I was preparing myself in case Baekhyun and San thought I was some sort of insane being or, worse, a spy from another country.

“My house was supposed to be built in this lot,” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder again, indicating the empty lot behind me, “and this antique wardrobe was in our attic even before my parents purchased the house, and no one bothered to get rid of it.”

Baekhyun nodded his head but said nothing, so I decided to continue. “As I've said earlier, I hid inside when I heard something and when I opened the door, I was already here.”

I saw San from the peripheral, tilting his head and his eyes squinting on the empty lot I was referring to, but I tried not to look away from Baekhyun’s intense gaze. He was studying my face as if tracing any sign that I was lying.

“I’m not lying, Baekhyun, I swear,” I croaked, noticing how his orbs wavered upon hearing his name coming out of my mouth.

He blinked after a few moments, his tongue peeking out to moisten his bottom lip. “When you said that this is where your house was supposed to be and yet you’re not from here...” he exhaled through his nose, eyes closing for a second before looking directly into my eyes as if begging me to tell the truth. “Will you be able to shed light on that?”

Finding courage that Baekhyun was finally willing to listen to me without the thought that he must’ve identified me as an enemy, I nodded my head, not before clenching my fingers from what I was about to say.

“You said that we are currently in year 1920?”

Baekhyun confirmed by nodding his head, and San, intently listening, nodded.

I continued, “Before I went inside the wardrobe, I checked my smartphone—” I saw how Baekhyun scowled, but I didn’t bother explaining, though I took a note at the back of my head that it’d be for another conversation. “And I clearly remember, the date was 20th of February...”

Baekhyun and San widened their eyes as if it were the most bizarre thing they’d ever heard in their entire life.

But I bet that was not the oddest thing they’d hear tonight.

“And the year was 2020.”

I was back at the staff quarters in Baekhyun’s house. I was seated on the mattress, having been awoken earlier as I waited for San, whom I could hear talking to other staff about how I was his niece and working for the Byun family alongside them.

I stared at my feet, all dirty and wounded from walking all over the place barefooted. However, I didn’t mind the stinging pain a bit. All I knew was how my heart was lightened up when Baekhyun said that he’d take care of me and instructed San to take me in while we looked for an answer on how to return to where I came from—originally where I came from.

“Do you believe me?” I whispered while sitting beside him inside their vintage vehicle while San drove us back to Baekhyun’s house.

He looked at me puzzlingly at first, making my heart feel like it dropped to my stomach, but it quickly vanished when he smiled gently. “One thing my grandmother told me when I was still a child that remains in my mind up until today and that is: To believe the impossible.”

I heard San calling my name from the door, cutting my thoughts from an earlier event. I looked up from my feet as he stood by the door with a basin and towel.

“Sir Baekhyun asked me to give these to you,” San walked beside the mattress as he set the basin with warm water and handed me the towel. “He wants to apologize for not being able to give these to you himself. They can’t be seen here, particularly when other workers are finished in the main house.”

I gave San a kind smile, lifted my feet from the floor, and soaked them in the warm water. I sighed in relief when my aching muscles and skin touched the warmth.

“Thank you, San. And don’t worry about it. I’m more than grateful that you let me stay here, and that’s more than enough.”

I hurried to the side when San asked if he could sit beside me. He plopped himself, staring ahead, seemingly in deep thought as I waited for him to ask questions that I knew he was keeping in, as Baekhyun could be pretty scary when he was around him.

“Is it improper of me to ask you if you really are from the future?” he inquired. His voice was low and quiet as if he didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation.

I smile sadly, my index finger picking on my thumb—a habit I have had since childhood when I’d be too scared or nervous. “I also couldn’t wrap my head about it.” I tried to cover up my nervousness with an awkward laugh, but it failed. It just sounded like I was about to pee my pants any minute now. “Is it improper of me to wish that this is just a dream?”

For the first time I’ve met San, though it wasn’t that long, he chortled, and it made me beam, flashing him a toothy grin.

“What does the future look like?” San asked before turning his head to the side to yawn. I looked at him fondly. He was such a hardworking man, especially for someone like Baekhyun, who was strict with his employees.

I shrugged, lifting my feet from the basin to wipe them with the towel I had been given a while ago. “There are no flying cars, don’t worry.”

My response made him cackle. He wiped his teary eyes with his hand, shaking his head while calming himself down. “I apologize if what I’m about to say would be inappropriate. However, I have not thought that you are hilarious from the way you cowered in fear when talking to Sir Baekhyun a while ago.”

I scrunched my nose, “I’m an awkward person to talk with, but I don’t know... I feel comfortable with you. Though you really did give me a fright when you claimed that I was a spy.”

“I apologize for that Miss, I—”

“No worries,” I shook my head, cutting him with an unnecessary apology. “But yeah, Baekhyun was obviously caring and kind, but could be quite intimidating, not the bad kind of intimidating, but you know—”

“He really is,” San agreed, nodding his head, probably to not make me feel wrong from talking about his employer. “But he’s a good man. He was just raised to be stern, although he can be mischievous on occasions. Do you want to know why he was in the prison this afternoon?”

I was dying to know and glad I didn’t have to ask anyone about it. I quickly nodded, signaling San to tell me what had happened.

“Sir Baekhyun did not agree to meet the lady his mother was forcing him to marry—” Oh, boy... if I said that I didn’t feel anything upon hearing that information, I’d be a liar. “Consequently, he ran and hid for the whole day. He came back in the middle of the day and rather than coming through the gates, he climbed on the wall at the back of the main house to furtively get to his chamber.”

I hummed as an answer as I could not form a proper sentence to acknowledge his words. Though I had no relation with Baekhyun, it felt weird having some sort of connection, unconsciously, towards him.

Given my lack of response, I thought San would end the day and retrieve me to his room as it was getting late, but he must’ve been that interested in the idea of me being from their future.

“What is a smartphone?”

I felt my lips spread a wide smile as I explained something I was passionate about. I’d love to discuss the technology that will have developed a hundred years from now. It was late, but I didn’t mind.

It was going to be a long night.

The next few days, I slowly grasped the routine of working for the Byun family. It was exhausting, as there were three separate houses, though I only attended the staff quarters and the guesthouse.

The guesthouse was mostly occupied by relatives and associates from other cities, whom I was informed to stay away from.

I haven’t seen Baekhyun since he decided to take me in and delegate my well-being to San, who was probably the friendliest and most understanding person I’ve ever met in this dimension—what I liked to call it, secretly.

At first, I was downhearted that Baekhyun didn’t reach out to me or even send a message to San like he did the first night I came here. Still, when San advised that Baekhyun was in trouble about the marriage stuff with his mother’s friend’s daughter, I slowly came to realize that I was just someone whom he helped and he had other things that he needed to take care of.

“How old is he?” I asked San when I followed him to the garden built at the back of the main house. It was late afternoon, and I had nothing to do except follow San around like a good niece. “I mean—if you don’t mind me asking.”

San flashed me a kind smile before inspecting a Gloriosa Daisy bed to ensure the gardener did his job correctly. I also learned that San had been the butler of the Byun family for almost twenty years. “Sir Baekhyun had just turned twenty last May.”

I nodded my head, my lips forming an O shape. “He’s older than me as I expected, but we’re almost the same age.”

“It’s impolite to ask for a lady’s age, thus my lips will be sealed.”

I laughed at San’s statement. My booming voice echoed across the empty garden. The old man’s eye crinkled in delight upon seeing my reaction.

“I’m eighteen, San.” I told him my age anyway. I shrugged my shoulders when he looked at me like he was expecting me to be twelve or something. “Anyway, isn’t twenty too young to be married? Or is it normal in the olden days?”

San grimaced at my choice of words but laughed nonetheless. “It is indeed young to get married at such age, but it’s considered as norm, particularly to prominent families.”

I was about to respond to San’s statement when my eyes travelled to the main house. There was a large window facing the garden, and there he was, Baekhyun, standing inside the house. He was wearing a white dress shirt as he stared at us in the distance.

I raised my hand and subtly waved at him, a tight smile on my lips. San realized the absence of my response, so he turned his head to see what other things caught my attention.

He immediately bowed his head upon seeing Baekhyun inside the house, looking at us blankly. Baekhyun didn’t even bat an eyelash to San and kept his eyes on me before turning his head away and walking off from the window.

I sighed dejectedly, turning to San, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Sir Baekhyun is having a difficult time with the arrangement he’s requiring into.”

I nodded understandingly, starting another conversation with San, who instantly shifted his focus to the topic I was discussing.

I felt bad complaining about my life situation when Baekhyun, who was undoubtedly a good person, was forced to do things against his will. I understood that we probably wouldn’t be able to talk for quite some time or until San and I find a way for me to get back where I came from.

I never thought that that would be the last day Baekhyun would stop distancing himself away.

I have been awoken by soft knocks inside the quarter, where I have been staying for a week. It was the smallest room, but San defended that they preferred me to be alone instead of mingling with other household employees. They would instead not take the risk.

I truly understand, though, and I honestly don’t mind. I also have the smallest bedroom among my siblings, so it didn’t matter.

Squinting my eyes, I propped on the mattress using my hands as I peeked at the mantel clock on the bedside table. It was two in the morning.

San had never knocked this early to instruct me on a chore, so I was confused. What could he possibly need to wake me up in the middle of the night?

Nonetheless, I grumpily threw my body out of the bed after lighting up a lamp before walking to the door to open it.

“Hey.”

I was half-asleep and wasn’t prepared to see Baekhyun, in his sleepwear, standing on the other side of the door. His closed fist was raised in the air, and he was about to knock on the wooden door again.

I blinked several times, trying to get the sleep away from my eyes when I heard 'sBaekhyun's melodious laughter again after days of not interacting with him.

“Did I wake you up?” His husky, deep voice made my insides do some flips.

I shook my head, opening the door a bit wider so I could step out. “It’s okay...”

I felt his eyes on me for a while, and when I found the courage to look up to his face, his lips formed a smile, eyes crinkling as he did. “Do you mind coming with me for a bit?”

Without any hesitation, I nodded, closing the door behind me as I followed his steps outside. It was summer, but at night, the breeze was slightly cooler than during the day.

We walked for almost ten minutes until we reached the garden at the back of the main house, where Baekhyun had seen San and I talking in the afternoon. He led me to the hedge maze on the further side of the lot.

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun suddenly chuckled, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up to him with wide eyes, not knowing what he meant by the unexpected assurance. “These shrubs are not that tall. You can scream for help if you think I would be doing something inappropriate.”

I opened my mouth to deny his assumptions of my thinking, but no words came out. Hence, I just waved my hands desperately.

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled as if he was adoring every reaction of mine. He shook his head and turned on his heels to continue walking in the labyrinth.

“How are you doing?” he inquired, looking ahead of him.

I glanced at his side profile, pursing my lips, when I noticed the bags under his eyes. “I’m doing alright... I guess. San has been helping me a lot.”

Baekhyun nodded his head, a tight smile on his eyes, and something irked me when it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. I apologize if I’m not around these days.”

“Oh—no, no,” I laughed nervously, scratching the side of my head as I tried to think of a better response to that. “I—I’m thankful enough to you for letting me stay here. That’s—that’s... uhm... more than enough. You don’t need to apologize.”

Baekhyun darted from my eyes to my lips, which I nervously bit. When I cleared my throat, he blinked like he was snapped out of his trance. He forced a cough, chuckling awkwardly. He tipped his head to the side, asking me to walk beside him.

“Say,” Baekhyun murmured, our footwear making a pat sound against the ground. I peered on my side to let him know that he had my attention. “Hundred years from today, does people, even then, are being imposed on what they should be doing—or who they should be with?”

My lips automatically turned downwards, knowing his situation from San. I sighed before shrugging my shoulders. “Well—it’s different. Rich and influential people still do have those circumstances, but they have a bit more freedom, I think? People have become more open on different status in life, culture, education—that kind of stuff.”

Baekhyun heaved a sigh upon hearing that, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I could’ve just said yes to make things livelier, but that would mean I’d be lying.

“Then I can take for granted that you have the benefit of freedom?” he asked, his tone a bit playful to lighten his damp mood.

I crinkled my nose, wrapping my arms around my figure when a cold breeze passed. “Don’t get me wrong, I came from an extremely ordinary family, but no, I do not have the pleasure of enjoying any kind of freedom.”

Baekhyun scowled, his steps coming to a halt before turning his head to glance in my direction. “Are you being arranged to someone as well?”

I snorted, shifting my weight to my other foot. “I could barely go out of the house to hang out with my friends, what more on dating.”

“Dating?” he breathed, uncertain of the word's meaning in my vocabulary.

“Oh—” I gasped, murmuring a soft apology. “Dating is a term we used when someone would be going out—most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship.”

Baekhyun took a few seconds before nodding to acknowledge that he understood what I meant. “That’s what dating is...”

I hummed and followed his steps when he continued walking on the path again.

“Then you have yet experience dating, I presume?”

His question caught me off guard, and I couldn’t think of a better response but to laugh awkwardly—inside my head, pathetically—my shoulders curling forward in embarrassment. How I wish...

And I could only hope I didn’t say that out loud.

But I think I just did... by just taking a glimpse of Baekhyun’s facial expression. He had a twinkle, almost mischievous, look in his eyes; his lips quirked up.

“Anyway,” I smiled at him, feeling comfortable conversing with him when San assured me several times that Baekhyun was a good man and I should not have any doubt about him. “Is everything okay—are you alright? Not that I mind, but is there any reason why you called me at this time?”

Guilt flashed through my nerves again when his shoulder visibly deflated as he sighed. Why do I always have to say the wrong thing at the wrong time?

“I was worried about you, to tell you honestly,” Baekhyun quavered, tilting his head to look at the stars in the dark sky. “I feel terrible that I have not reached out when I was the one who told you to stay here.”

I smiled sadly, my hand itching to pat his shoulder, but I decided to keep my hands to myself. “You don’t need to worry about that, I’m doing just fine. It’s sad that we have been trying to get me back to my time to no avail, but San has been taking care of me like I’m his real niece or something.”

I ended my sentence with a laugh to make things lighter, and I was glad that it made him smile.

“That is delightful to hear,” Baekhyun beamed, and I couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

We were just looking at each other, and our orbs danced at one another’s features. Unknowingly, he raised his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. When his finger touched my cheek, I finally realized his action.

At the same time, I tensed, not disregarding the heat that was starting to creep up from my neck.

“You have a ravishing smile,” he commented; the tip of his finger lingered longer than it should’ve been on my skin, leaving a burning sensation on the largest organ of my anatomy.

Baekhyun must have noticed my speechlessness as he retrieved his hand and tucked it on his back. He scratched the back of his neck with his other hand before pointing back to the staff quarters.

“Let’s get you back. You’re freezing, and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

I was a hundred percent sure that I was not freezing. In fact, my whole body was on fire.

Ever since that night, I would expect a knock on my door in the middle of the night. I got used to it to the extent that I’d be pacing back and forth when the mantel clock would hit two o’clock, and he was not here yet.

There was one time when it was almost three in the morning, and I thought he’d not come, so I decided to go to bed. I needed to be up early in the morning, or San would be in trouble—and I did not want that to happen.

I was asleep when I didn’t hear him knocking on my door. It was when I felt fingers on my forehead, brushing my fringe, and then it travelled to the bridge of my nose. I let out a grunt before forcing my eyes to open. There he was, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he stared at me at my messiest state.

I was so embarrassed that I instantly tried to turn my back on him and cover my face with a blanket, but his movement was swifter than mine. He was chuckling huskily as he fought for the blanket from my hands.

“Why do you shy away, my little dove?”

I’ve gotten used to the nicknames he used every time he saw me. At first, I would blush like mad and stammer. Though now, my face still flushes, I somehow manage to live with it.

It was another night of strolling with Baekhyun. He was slowly getting bolder as he suggested walking outside the hedge maze and sitting on the ground around the bed of flowers.

My arms hugged my knees, and I stared straight ahead while Baekhyun leaned on his arms as he looked at the dark sky.

“Darling?”

I hummed, leaning the side of my head on my folded arms to look at him. Without tearing his eyes away from the sky, he inquired, “Would you like to dance?”

My brows furrowed at his sudden request. Nevertheless, I got up on my feet and dusted my bottom as I held my hand out for him to take. He had a broad smile as he took my hand in his, hoisting him from the ground as well.

“I don’t know how to dance, but I’d say yes anyway because I know you’ll bug me for the rest of my life if I rejected your offer,” I grumbled, playfully rolling my eyes before following his lead. He had a hand raised in the air for me to take, and a hand was positioned on my waist.

Baekhyun laughed at my sentiments, “I’m still astounded on how you were this adorable little sheep I’ve saw in the prison to becoming a lioness who would pounce on me when she gets a chance.”

I mumbled an apology when I stepped on his foot. I gave him a stinky eye at his metaphor but couldn’t stop the bashful smile on my lips. “I told you, I’m awkward at first, but I’m talkative when I get comfortable.”

A gasp escaped my lips when his hand on my back pulled me closer to his chest. Baekhyun leaned his head on my temple as he continued to lead the dance. We swayed slowly and gently; I could feel his heartbeat on my chest, his breathing in my ear.

Finding comfort in our position, I courageously leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes when both arms tightly wrapped around my figure.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one whose feeling it,” Baekhyun whispered, his nose buried in my hair.

Since the first day... I’d like to say. But instead, I just wrapped my arms around his torso, nodding my head to confirm his words.

I reluctantly pulled away when Baekhyun loosened his arms. When I tilted my chin to peer at him, he slowly leaned, and I thought he would smash his mouth on mine without thinking—but I was glad he didn’t. To be honest, I was not ready.

“Pardon me,” he pursed his lips, scooting his face a few inches away from mine when he saw my widened eyes. “I’m certain that you are the only thing that fills my head these days... and it’s insane.”

“Why—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked, “why me? I’m not—”

“Why not you?”

I squealed when Baekhyun, who must’ve lost control, briefly dived to place his lips on my left cheek. It was short, but his soft lips left a tingling sensation on my cheek.

Why not me? I have no idea. I’ve never been someone else’s choice before. I’d always be left out. To say that this was strange is such an understatement. I truthfully don’t know how to react nor know what to say.

Baekhyun nudged my cheek with the tip of his nose to snap me out of my trance. He looked at me worriedly as he pulled away and held my face in his hands instead. That didn’t help my racing heart as I was fully aware that he could now see my crimson-red face, and most probably, my ears were blushing as well.

“Would you like me to give you some time to think?”

Dumb-founded, I nodded my head as I could not find myself to utter any word. I couldn’t be more thankful when Baekhyun smiled and walked me back to the quarters with his hand still on the small of my back.

I was wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

San knew what happened, and he was skeptical when he asked what I’d been doing, saying that I had been yawning for the whole day. I stuttered, trying to find an excuse for my lack of energy.

“I never doubted that you came from the future, but you are clearly being dishonest right now, Miss.”

He looked so disappointed that I had no choice but to tell him the truth: that Baekhyun had been knocking on my door in the middle of the night for a quick stroll around the manor, and what had happened with his employer's son.

San looked so shocked that he did not expect my answer. “You’re bluffing.”

I chewed my bottom lip and sighed, “I wish I am.”

I followed him around the guest house again. A few staff members were dusting the place, as someone would visit the Byun family in a few days.

San had to go to the corner and grab a chair to sit on. “This is going to be a disruption. Sir Baekhyun, he—he needs to obey his mother’s order.”

I pursed my lips before nodding my head. “I know, San—I know, and I also need to go back to where I came from. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve helped me a lot, but this is not where I belong.”

San nodded understandingly; his fingers rubbed his temple as he thought. Before we could even say another word, we were startled when the staff in the area could be heard fussing.

I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun walking in the door. A neat dress shirt and a waistcoat adorned his torso, and black slacks on his bottom.

My eyes automatically widened, my head snapping in San’s direction, who looked surprised simultaneously, in panic as I was. But unlike me, San quickly stood up from his chair, bowing his head in respect to Baekhyun.

I forgot I was supposed to be an employee and was about to walk away to pretend I was busy dusting a piece of squeaky-clean furniture when San grabbed my arm, forcing me to bow my head. I did, exaggeratedly, which was embarrassing as heck.

It was the first time I saw him during daylight since I met him at the police station. He looked unbelievably dashing.

“Sir Baekhyun,” San greeted him. His voice was professional like he didn’t just scold me for sneaking out with one of his bosses. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Baekhyun didn’t even smile when he pointed his finger directly at me. “I need her to come with me for a moment.”

My head whipped to San’s direction, shooting daggers on the side of his head with my eyes as if to beg him not to let me go with Baekhyun, who freakin’ stole a kiss on my cheek, sniffed my hair, and made my stomach do all those gymnastics shit my younger sister loved doing.

All the other staff looked so surprised, but instead of looking suspicious, they looked worried that Baekhyun was asking for me, probably thinking that I had done something that got on his nerves.

San looked hesitant for a second or two before nodding his head with a smile on his face. “Right away, Sir.” he placed his hand on my shoulder, pushing me gently to walk in Baekhyun’s direction, who was already holding the door open for me to follow him.

I kept my chin dipped as I followed him to the staff’s quarter. He opened a door where cleaning materials were placed and closed the door behind him after he checked that no one followed nor saw us.

“Did I—did I do something wrong?” I stammered; my voice was so small as I cowered down by his intense gaze.

I watched him put his hand inside his waistcoat, fishing out a familiar machine from its pocket. I immediately gasped, snatching my smartphone from his hand. “W-where did you get this? Oh, my God, I thought I didn’t bring it with me.”

Baekhyun’s stoic face finally faded and was replaced by the smile I was familiar with. “You dropped this when you went unconscious by the road. I had forgotten that I had this with me. I apologize, love.”

I gulped at his endearment choice for the day. I froze on my spot, not moving a muscle, and I bet he noticed it. He chuckled huskily; his hand went to pat my head.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look at his eyes, “Thank you for this. But you could’ve just waited until everyone’s asleep before giving this back to me.”

Baekhyun just shrugged his shoulders, and a smirk formed on his face. “Perhaps it was a rationale to see you.”

I playfully rolled my eyes, shaking my head, slowly getting used to his advances.

“You looked beautiful under the moonlight, but you look absolutely stunning when the rays of sun are kissing your skin, love.”

I shook my head, my lips caught between my teeth to prevent myself from smiling too widely. I shifted my attention to my phone, my heart clenching for a second when I pressed the button on the right side. The thought of it not working was about to kill me.

I took a sharp breath when the screen lit up. The infamous Bited Apple logo appeared on the screen. I peeped under my lashes to see Baekhyun’s reaction, and his mouth was open as he stared at the device in my hand.

“Wha—what is that?” he gawked, taking a step forward to look at the device closely, our arms brushed at the proximity.

“It’s a smartphone,” I answered, showing him the screen when it finally loaded to my lock screen. I was not even surprised when the signal showed No Service. Like, hello?

“It’s like a combination of computer and a telephone,” I explained, showing him the contacts I saved. “You can also use this for taking pictures, videos, and stuff.”

I raised my head to look at him, and his expression indicated that he was having difficulty understanding what a smartphone was all about.

I scrunched up my face, feeling guilty to feed him such information when he was probably not familiar with those functions in the first place. I knew a mechanical computer was invented in 1822 but was not digitalized until 1942. So, I wouldn’t blame him for looking lost. That was my bad.

I opened the camera app and quickly snapped a picture of him. The photo came out a bit blurry. I grinned widely before showing him the image, and his jaw dropped.

“This thing has been invented?” he gasped, thrilled to see a photo of him within seconds.

“Yes!” I squealed; my head turned to glance at him, only to find out he was already looking at me.

My smile slowly faltered when I watched his orbs dart from my eyes to my mouth. I gulped audibly, not finding the will to scoot away. “I—I thought chivalry is a must in the olden days?” I breathed on his face, but he didn’t even flinch.

“I have never done this before,” he responded, inching a bit closer, making me hold my breath and my hands instinctively hold on his sides. “I have never felt something like this before.”

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose before closing his eyes and opening them again when he leaned his forehead on mine. “I have been drawn to you since the day I saw you at the police station. I have been trying to elucidate why this is happening to me. You are the first person I would love to see in the morning, and the last person I would love to be with before I go to bed.”

It was a short brush of our lips, but I felt the spark when they touched. A flash of warmth was spreading through my whole body.

I let out a deep, trembling breath when Baekhyun’s hand travelled to my back, caressing it over the fabric of my blouse before it went to cup the back of my neck. It was clear that he wanted to smash his mouth on his mind, but it was apparent that he was stopping himself from doing so.

“Say something,” he fretted, nudging my nose with his.

“Baekhyun, I—” I croaked, “what do you want me to say?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his eyes still looked at me gently. “That you feel the same way... do you?”

My lower lip quivered, torn into two things: If I’d be honest and say that I was indeed attracted to him, and even though I felt the same way, I still needed to return to where I originally came from, that I didn’t belong here.

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, “I need to get home... my family—”

“Stay here,” Baekhyun instantly responded, cutting me off; both of his hands cupped my cheeks, making me look directly at his orbs, “with me—stay here with me.”

I pressed my lips together, contemplating whether staying would be a good idea. Will my family look for me? Will they even notice that I was gone for quite some time? Will they even care?

“May I love you?”

Without thinking much further, I nodded my head, a tear escaping my eye when I realized that I made an impromptu decision that would affect my entire life.

Baekhyun broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen; he giggled breathlessly as his thumb caressed my cheek. He slowly leaned forward, tilting my head to get better access to my mouth.

My friends in school told me that the first kiss would feel like butterflies in your stomach, but heck no, it felt like someone fired up fireworks in my nerves, making the tip of my fingers and toes curled from exhilaration.

Baekhyun’s lips were soft. That was all I could think about initially, but when he started nibbling my pillows, I began thinking differently. He knew what he was doing, and he was good at it.

I was a bit disappointed yet glad when he decided to pull away. I fluttered my eyes open, seeing how he looked at me with his lips all red and glossy.

“I thought it was just going to be a peck,” I panted, rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand. “That was my first kiss, you know.”

“Forgive me, my love.” Baekhyun had the cheek to laugh at my statement, dipping his head down to steal another kiss. “That was the closest to heaven as I will ever get.”

San, once again, knew what happened. Not exactly what happened, but he had his eyes squinted when I came back to the guest house actually to help them clean the place.

I avoided his eyes the whole time, but when we were done with the task, he asked me to stay behind. “I beg you to tell me that my thoughts are incorrect,” he pondered, and his jaw went slack when I let out a nervous laughter.

I honestly thought that what happened would create such an unpleasant atmosphere, but gladly, nothing really changed—except for the fact that Baekhyun became more open to requesting to see me during the day.

“Baekhyun—” I tried to push him away when I was asked to deliver a meal to his chamber because, apparently, he was not feeling well. It was true, though. He fell while riding a horse with his older brother and twisted his ankle. It wasn’t that bad, but he used it as an excuse to be pampered. “Someone might see.”

It was the first time I entered the main house. It was huge, and having no sense of direction, I got lost several times. Fortunately, another staff member saw me struggling with a tray and seemed to be losing my mind. She was kind enough to point out Sir Baekhyun’s room.

Baekhyun was able to walk, though limping; it wasn’t as bad as I expected. It had been three days since the accident, so I assumed he was already healing.

That explained why he was able to jump off his bed when I knocked and asked permission to come in. He almost tackled my figure as soon as I set the metal tray with his food on the table near the floor-to-ceiling window.

“May I have kiss, please?” he pleaded, almost batting his eyelashes at me. I turned my head side to side, as if someone was in the room, before leaning in for a quick peck.

I was relieved when that seemed to satisfy his need.

Often, though, he’d still knock on my door in the middle of the night. There were times when I’d be exhausted and unable to get up and open the door for him. Hence, I once told him that the doors in the staff quarters didn’t have some sort of lock, so he could come in directly to my room.

He was hesitant at first, saying that someone might get the wrong idea, but then he remembered that only San knew about us.

“I trust San,” I told him, hurrying on the mattress to give him space to lie down. “He won’t tell anyone.”

Baekhyun hummed, shifting on his side, observing my tired state, droopy eyes, and hugging the blanket on my body. “I speculate that San already had the wrong idea. He has vivid imagination.”

I let out a breathless laugh, tilting my head to look at him. The corner of his lips quirked up upon noticing my attention to him. I already knew what he was thinking, and it’d not be the first time he’d discussed it. “Let’s not give San’s receding hairline another reason to step back.”

It was Baekhyun’s turn to laugh. However he didn’t even try concealing his boisterous laugh I had to cover his mouth with my palm. “Baekhyun!” I hissed, scowling at him. He nodded, fingers wrapping on my wrist to pull my palm away from his mouth.

He kissed my knuckles, and I thought he’d put it back on my side, but he kept holding my hand in his hand and even placing our hands on his chest. “I will patiently wait, my love.”

I smiled widely, inching closer to place my lips on his. I am glad to say that I finally got used to being affectionate and intimate with him. Although, we haven’t gotten that far yet.

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose as he tangled his finger in my hair, grabbing the back of my head to tug me closer. I grunted before pulling away. He looked confused for a moment, but when he realized how deep I was looking into his eyes, his frown faded away.

“Thank you,” I said under my breath.

“For what cause?”

“Everything,” I murmured. “I’ve always thought that I’d be unlove for the rest of my life. You’re the first who made me feel wanted.”

Baekhyun knew my story regarding my family. He was surprised but did not say anything against them. Instead, he assured me that he’d never leave my side. “No matter when you need me, I will be there. I will never leave you. I will always come and find you.”

His movements were fast. In a matter of seconds, his lips had crashed into mine. I was taken aback that my breath was caught in my throat, fingers clenching his back underneath the fabric of his shirt.

My heart felt like it was going to jump out from my chest when his hand came in contact with my chest, squeezing my bosom. I sensed the lump in my throat; my hand went from his back to his face, pushing it away from mine.

“Baekhyun—Baekhyun,” my voice was stern, trying to wake him up from the daze he had snapped out of.

He closed his eyes, retrieving his hand away from my chest. “I’m—I’m sorry, that was not my intention.”

I felt his panic, caressing his face,, which seemed to calm him down as he leaned his head on my palm. “It’s okay—you’re okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I was just surprised; you did nothing wrong.”

“I did! I—”

I shushed him, gathering the small amount of courage I had to place his hand on my chest again. Baekhyun widened his eyes, tugging his hand back, but I held it in place, smiling at him.

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready to do it yet,” I smiled before drawing my lower lip between my teeth. “But this is okay, you can touch them—you can touch me.”

Baekhyun was initially reluctant, but with a kiss on his forehead to let him know that I was confident, he started exploring my features as a woman.

My sleep was long gone; my head was laying on Baekhyun’s chest as he buried his nose in my hair while we talked about things in our lives, mostly him asking about my life ninety-nine years from now.

“I really thought people from the olden days were conservative,” I admitted, “no offense, though.”

Baekhyun playfully snarled. His hand, which was on his back rubbing in circles, suddenly pinched my side, earning a shriek from me. “I really hope you would stop saying olden days. You are making me feel old when I’m only twenty.”

I scrunched up my face, tilting my head to kiss his chin. “I mean, you’re probably older than my grandparents.”

He rolled his eyes before pretending to leave the bed.

“I’m kidding,” I laughed, pulling him back and hugging his torso like a bolster, tangling my legs with his.

His hand automatically reached my back, resuming his previous action. “I do wonder what historians had written about our time. It’s normal to make love. I did it the first time when I was fifteen.”

I bolted out from his touch, sitting up on the bed while I looked at him with wide open eyes. “Are you serious? I could barely order in a restaurant without stuttering when I was fifteen.”

“It would be different in your time?” Baekhyun inquired, genuinely curious and ignoring the fact that he had just told me his sex life had started when he was fifteen.

I cleared my throat, shrugging my shoulders. “I mean—my life was only between school and home. Others did the same as you, I think. I just—you know, assumed that it was marriage before sex in this century.”

Baekhyun wriggled his brows on me, sitting up on the mattress. “Are you asking to marry me?”

I gawked at him, grabbing the pillow at the edge of the mattress and chucking it to his face. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled, snatching the pillow and placing it out of my reach. He asked me to lie down again, which I did, but not before sending him a glare.

“What are people like in 2020?”

I yawned, finally getting lulled from how Baekhyun massaged my scalp with his fingers as I lay on his torso, my face tucked in the space of his neck. “Almost the same, but we dressed differently, and people became creative in dyeing their hair.”

I felt his lips on my forehead as I closed my eyes, scooting closer to his side if possible.

“Government allowed people to dye their hair?”

I grunted, “Even males dye their hair pink.”

“A man with pink hair?” Baekhyun marveled, “who would do that?”

“What?” I chuckled lowly; I was this close to dreamland. “I think it’s adorable. If possible, I’d dye your hair pink so I can recognize you anywhere I’d go.”

I heard him scoff, hugging my body tighter.

“No, thank you.”

It wasn’t that long before San informed me that Baekhyun’s mother was suspicious of his son’s whereabouts. I was confused initially because Baekhyun had been staying in the manor since we’ve been together, but when San reminded me that the youngest son of Byun's family was a mischievous creature, that hit me.

There had been idle talk among employees that their Sir Baekhyun had been having an affair with someone on the premises. Some employees would quickly turn their heads on me since they had been noticing Baekhyun would always ask for me, and some wondered who it might be.

Instantly, I asked San for help with the situation, and he immediately told me that he would handle the employees’ whisper. “May I request that you two tone down? If you could pass it on to Sir Baekhyun, he won’t handle my suggestion lightly when I’d say it directly to him. I’ll talk to other maids about this.”

Surprisingly, Baekhyun agreed when he came over to my room. He said that it would be our only choice to be together. He assured me that he would handle his mother and would find a solution to our dilemma.

When things were getting better after a few weeks of not seeing each other, and his mother was finally forgetting Baekhyun’s odd behavior, I accidentally bumped with the, as San informed me, the chief of the police station where Baekhyun and San first saw me.

I wasn’t supposed to be in the guest house, but one of the staff had eaten something terrible and was advised to rest for the rest of the day. As San was already occupied, I offered to cover her tasks while she rested.

The chief was eyeing me like a hawk as if he was examining my face like I was some sort of criminal. To which I was identified the first day I arrived in this century.

I still couldn’t get a hold of Baekhyun. Consequently, I asked San to deliver the message to him instead, as San was always in the main house for his duty as the main butler for the family.

That night, Baekhyun finally knocked on my door at two in the morning. I opened the door wide to let him in before closing the door behind us.

Baekhyun smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears. “Hey.”

Without wasting time, I told him what had happened with the chief and how uncomfortable it made me that someone outside the manor had recognized me.

“Those two officers must’ve sketched my face and showed it to the chief,” I gasped, nearly choking a sob. “They probably didn’t believe it when you said that I was with you. They saw me idling near the wardrobe, Baekhyun! What if they—”

Baekhyun shushed me by tugging my arm so he could pull me to his chest. He ran his fingers on my hair, knowing it would always calm me. “It’s going to be all right. I will talk to father once I get the chance and ask for help. Please wait for me.”

Turned out that it was too late to ask for help. The chief came over the following day, going straight to the lady of the house: Baekhyun’s mother.

My heart was beating so fast when San told me that Lady Byun was asking for me. I almost cried on the spot because I already knew what would happen.

Despite having soft facial features, Baekhyun’s mother was terrifying. Her voice was stern, and her eyes were like those of a lioness ready to eat her prey anytime, and that prey was obviously me.

My head was hanging low as I stood in front of Lady Byun sitting on a chair in the middle of a room. An employee was also standing in the corner with worried eyes on me.

“Remind me to dismiss San for letting in a criminal in this household,” she said, her voice cold and void of emotion.

Instantly, I shot up my head, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes. “No!”

She raised her eyebrows at me, unable to believe that I just raised my voice. I quickly bowed my head to apologise, “I apologize, madam. I didn’t mean to shout. But San didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you saying that my judgement was unjustifiable?” she taunted.

I shook my head, “T-that’s not what I meant, madam. I—I will take full responsibility and will leave the manor in an instant.”

She scoffed, smiling bitterly. “You are aware that my husband is the General, am I correct?”

I shut my eyes momentarily, letting out a deep trembling breath. “Yes, madam.”

“And if the people heard about the Byun family letting a criminal on loose, do you know what would happen?” she argued, not letting me go quickly.

I nodded, my eyes getting watery from the overwhelming confrontation I didn’t want to be in. “I—I understand very well, madam. I will surrender myself to the police. But please,” I croaked, forcing myself to tilt my chin to look at her in the eyes, “San didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows twitched. “If San is dismissed, I would like you to know that it’s your liability.”

I raised my hand to wipe a tear that escaped my eyes, whimpering in agony. Everything was going so well. I finally accepted the vast possibility that I wouldn’t be able to go back to my time and spend the rest of my life here—with Baekhyun.

Then this happened.

San was frantic when he saw that I was being escorted by two police personnel. He tried to stop them, but when I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, I told him that it was okay and also thanked him for everything he had done for me.

San called my name for the last time before I was asked to enter the police vehicle, and when I turned my head to him, the old man cupped his mouth as he teared up. I wept as I mouthed an apology for bringing him into this mess.

The ride was filled with my sniffles, and the two officers were in silence as they listened to me cry. I didn’t even see Baekhyun before I got to be imprisoned for something I was forced to identify with. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye, at the very least.

I just want to hug and kiss him and tell him that I'm sorry to leave when I promised him I’d stay.

When the vehicle came to a halt, I waited until one of the officers would open the back seat door where I was seated. I was staring into space and moved robotically when I stepped out.

However, before I could even take another step, I heard the stomping of footwear getting louder, like it was getting near where I was. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun sprinting to reach my spot.

The officers instantly tried to stop him from getting near, but I had no idea how it happened because the next thing I knew, my arm was hurting from Baekhyun’s tight grip, and my lungs were burning from dashing away from the officers who were whistling like mad as they chased us.

Baekhyun had told me that he knew everything about the place, so I wasn’t surprised when he took a turn to a forest—trees around the area for more manageable hideout. We were both panting when we stopped running and being the most unathletic student back in school, and I sounded like I was fighting for my life.

Baekhyun embraced me, and his musky scent instantly calmed my nerves. I started sobbing as I wrapped my arms around his torso, and I could hear him sniffing as well.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Baekhyun kissed the side of my head, tightening his arms around me. “I did not expect the chief would talk to my mother.”

I nodded my head understandingly.

“Father is still out of town; I have not gotten the chance to ask for help. I’m sorry I was not there,” Baekhyun croaked into my ear, “I apologize, my love.”

Before I could utter a response, we pulled away from each other when the officers' distinct voices could be heard.

We continued to run to the other side of the forest. When we saw that we were at the edge of the forest and the road could be seen, Baekhyun wanted to turn around, knowing how dangerous it would be to be seen running on the main road.

However, before I could follow Baekhyun’s steps, I heard a highly subtle purr of a cat. I stopped in my tracks, eyes scanning the forest to look for the familiar sound.

Baekhyun called my name when he noticed I wasn’t following him any longer and grabbed my hand to continue our mission.

“Baekhyun—wait—” I pulled him back, asking him to turn his voice down. “I could hear something.”

He scowled but tried to focus on the background noise if there was indeed a cat.

My eyes widened when a vivid meow, and a tricolor feline showed himself from behind a tree.

It was the stray cat that I adopted!

The cat looked straight into my eyes, as if trying to communicate with me. He remained unmoving for a while before walking towards the main road.

“No,” Baekhyun tugged my arm when I stepped forward to follow the kitten. “The main road is not safe. We cannot risk—”

“Baekhyun, that’s my cat!” I responded with a high-pitched voice. “We were both inside the wardrobe. I didn’t know that he was here.”

He gritted his teeth, contemplating if he should let me follow the animal to the main road. With his jaw clenched, he exhaled through his nose, holding my hand as we walked to the main road and followed the cat’s steps.

The tricolor animal was sitting in front of the wardrobe on the side of the road like he was waiting for me. His vast eyes were on me, and his tail was moving slowly. I stared at the cat for a few seconds until he jumped inside the wardrobe, where—surprisingly—the door was opened.

He kept looking at me and then meowed when I didn’t move a muscle. Was he asking me to get inside the closet?

I snapped out of my thoughts when Baekhyun squeezed the hand he was holding. I looked at him, and he had a sad smile, like he was also noticing how the cat was asking me to get inside the wardrobe.

Am I going back to my time?

“Wait—Baekhyun, no,” I choke a sob, “I promised that I’ll stay, I’ll be fine in prison—”

“My love,” Baekhyun cupped my face, pressing his lips on my forehead. “It’s going to be all right. Your safety is my priority. I also promised that I would always come to find you, didn't I? Can you wait until then?”

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, nodding my head while hugging him tight, afraid that it would be the last time I’d see him once I got back to where I came from. “I love you.”

He smiled sadly, placing a kiss on my lips. A tear escaped from his eye. “I love you, too.”

I was a crying mess when we finally let go of each other. When I went inside the wardrobe, I looked at him for the last time, giving him a smile despite my tear-soaked cheeks. “Please don’t be in love with someone else,” I joked, playfully squinting my eyes on him.

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you,” he responded with a mischievous grin.

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from sobbing. I nodded my head, giving him a last smile before closing the door of the wardrobe.

February 20, 2020, 02:00 AM, the date and time reads.

I was still sitting inside the wardrobe with the door open when I felt my phone in my hand. I remembered that I had left it inside my room in the staff’s quarters.

Was everything just a dream?

But it was too vivid to be just a dream.

Remembering the picture I took of Baekhyun, I opened my gallery to see if it would be there, but it was nowhere to be found. And when I examined my clothes, I was back in my Winnie the Pooh-printed pajamas.

I cried myself to sleep that night, not because of my parents' constant fighting or the fact that no one came into my room to comfort me, but because I was slowly being convinced that it was indeed just a dream.

Two years had passed, and I was about to finish my second year in university.

I decided to major in Aerospace Engineering and minor in Physics. My parents weren’t opposed to the idea, especially when the word Engineering was present in my course. It was goddamn stressful, but I was having fun. I loved learning, which was one of the few things I was good at.

I met new people at uni, but was still in contact with my high school friends. Due to our busy schedules, we rarely got to catch up.

Wendy, whom I met freshman year, introduced me to her circle of friends. Her friends weren’t all nice, but they were usually bearable. So, I decided, why not stick with them?

Irene, the oldest among us, scolded Chaeyoung when the latter, once again, winked at a guy who passed by our table in the cafeteria.

“Do you really have to do that to every person you see who has a dick?” Irene hissed, grabbing Chaeyoung’s chin to make her look straight ahead. She was about to break her neck after following the guy she winked at.

I peeked over my MacBook to see the chaos at our table. Though it wasn’t new since this usually occurs almost daily, it was still entertaining to watch. I shook my head before focusing to the case study I was working on.

Chaeyoung groaned, slapping Irene’s hand away from her face. “Can you have me my little fun? I’m already stressed enough with schoolwork, please don’t add up.”

Irene scoffed, rolling her eyes on Chaeyoung. “Please! I’ve never seen you read a single paragraph in your course.”

“You did not just say that!” Chaeyoung dramatically gasped. “I do my part in studying, thank you very much. Just because I’m not a nerd like her, you would say that I’m not taking my studies seriously.”

Without even looking up from the screen of my Mac, I commented, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“That’s not nice, Chaeyoung,” Wendy clicked her tongue, glaring at the youngest at the table.

Instead of apologising, Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, opening her smartphone to spend time on her precious social media profile.

I smiled at Wendy, shaking my head to let her know that I didn’t take it to heart. At first, I was offended whenever Chaeyoung would call me a nerd or sometimes a pushover, but after spending time with them for almost two years, I could say that I got used to it.

Seulgi, majoring in Performing Arts, came to the table panting as she ran across the hall. I passed her my tumbler while she caught her breath. “Thank you,” Seulgi hugged my head, a habit she had of hers.

“So, guys,” Seulgi began, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after she chugged the iced cold water in my tumbler. “I think I’ve got a date.”

I gasped, abandoning my Mac momentarily to give Seulgi my full attention. Since I was the busiest among us when it came to studies, I would not always hang out with them and I I didn’t know all the details about their lives.

I once heard from Wendy that Seulgi liked her friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids. However, as pessimistic as Chaeyoung was, I learned from her that this guy was not interested in any relationship.

“Of course, I already asked him out,” Chaeyoung easily responded, rolling her eyes, when she was asked how she knew this detail. “He was cute, alright, but his friends are way more handsome. He’s just rich, so I asked him out.”

Seulgi had been so afraid to confess her attraction towards this friend, but Wendy and I have been bugging her to do so. Irene... is just being Irene. Do whatever you want, she said.

“And?” Wendy pressed on, eager to know the details from Seulgi. I nodded, smiling slyly to let her know that I was also interested to learn.

“Well—it wasn’t like a date as in date,” Seulgi explained, chuckling nervously. “But since it was his senior year, there will be a small celebration in their house tomorrow. He asked me to come...”

“That’s nice!” I squealed while Chaeyoung rolled her eyes.

“I thought he really did ask you to spend the night with him or something.”

Irene had to slap Chaeyoung’s arm so she could shut her mouth and stop ruining Seulgi’s moment.

Chaeyoung whined, rubbing the spot where Irene hit her. “It’s true, though. I mean, good for you, Seul, but he doesn’t date! He told me himself.”

That made me scowl, “Why is that, though? Previous bad relationship? Else, he swings for the same team.”

Chaeyoung, the most exaggerated one she was, clapped her hands, catching the attention of other students. “I thought about that, too! I mean, his hair is pastel pink to begin with! And oh! I heard from someone that he believes that he’s a reincarnation of ancestor!”

We rarely agree on things, but we were unstoppable when Chaeyoung and I do. Not when I was interested in after-life matters.

“Okay—okay,” Seulgi laughed, raising both hands to stop me and Chaeyoung from uttering another nonsense. “He is not gay, alright? And he just has his beliefs that we all need to respect. He was named after his ancestor because of family matters, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

I jutted my bottom lip, and guilt crashed through me. “Sorry, Seul. I got excited.”

Seulgi patted my head to let me know that she didn’t mind. Instead of apologizing, Chaeyoung made a face, turning her focus back to her phone.

“Anyway,” Seulgi continued, “would you guys like to come?”

Irene didn’t even waste a second to shake her head. She didn’t like being around men. “No, thanks.” Chaeyoung pretended that she didn’t hear Seulgi’s offer. That leaves Wendy and me in the fraction.

“I mean,” Wendy shrugged, “I’ll go. I don’t really have anything and since you asked, I’m assuming you need someone to be with?”

Seulgi nodded her head eagerly, faking a cry for Wendy. “Thank you, Wen! You really are my friend.”

I thought I was safe since Wendy had already said that she’d go with Seulgi, but when I felt two pairs of eyes burning at the side of my head, I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I have a case study to work on.”

Wendy made a face, closing the lid of my Mac, “Yeah, a case study that isn’t due in five weeks.”

Seulgi held my arm, giving me a pleading look. “Please, please. I’ll buy you coffee. I need all the support I can get. This would be a once in a lifetime chance, please.”

Sighing in defeat, I nodded, finally agreeing to whatever it may be. “Iced white chocolate mocha with eight pumps of mocha sauce, stirred whipped, and extra caramel drizzle.”

“That’s not a coffee, that’s diabetes in a cup.” Seulgi commented, earning a glare from me.

“Then have fun with Wendy and your pink hair crush.”

“I’m just kidding!” Seulgi laughed, opening the lid of my Mac so I could continue my work. “Text me your order, that’s too long for me to remember.”

Seulgi didn’t specify if we needed to dress up or if there would be a dress code for this small celebration of her friend. Wendy and I talked on the phone, and she was stressing out because she remembered Chaeyoung’s words clearly about how rich this Seulgi’s friend was.

“Oh, my gosh, what if we arrived there in our jeans and dirty sneakers, then the people will be in their tuxedos and evening gowns?” Wendy babbled on the line. I was still on campus, having a lecture to attend, and had to go straight to the address Seulgi sent on the group chat she created specifically for this event.

I laughed at Wendy’s state; I could hear how she was rummaging in her closet. “It’s going to be fine. We are just going to be there for Seulgi, not to impress anyone. If there would be dress code, we’ll just pretend to be one of the servers then.”

That made Wendy laugh. I heard how she plopped on her bed, groaning on the line. “What are you wearing, anyway? You’re going straight from uni, right?”

I examined my clothes for the day, mentally slapping my face when I chose to wear something so casual, forgetting that we had to attend something in the evening for a moment this morning. “Uh... jeans, loose white t-shirt under a plaid shirt—and oh! An old Nike shoes.”

Wendy’s whined was loud from the other line. I laughed at her reaction, and I had already expected this kind of reaction from her—or anyone else. “Out of all days of the week, why did you dress up like a trucker today?”

“Probably because I had a lecture that goes from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon. I need to be comfortable throughout the day, ever thought of that?”

Wendy continued to whine, and I couldn’t do anything but shake my head, laughing at my friend’s reaction. “Just wear any clothes you have. We’re going to be there for Seulgi, that would be the only purpose of our presence. To make you feel better, we’re supposed to look bad so Seulgi would look much prettier. I’m done here and I’ll be on my way in a few.”

I had to take the subway and a bus just to get to the address we were supposed to be at. It was almost an hour of travel using public transportation, though the waiting time for the subway and bus was already included in that time frame, but still.

I opened the Map app on my phone as Wendy and I looked for the address. We decided to meet at the bus station, and I was glad we did. It was awkward to walk in a suburban area by yourself, not when the neighborhood was really that high-end.

“I wonder how Seulgi became friends with this guy,” I pondered, looking at my phone for directions.

Wendy linked her arms with mine, needing support as she decided to wear wedge sandals. She didn’t listen and chose to dress herself appropriately. Although, it was a good thing to be presentable. I just felt out of place. It was my fault, anyway.

“I heard that Seulgi’s ancestor had been working for their family since the nineteen hundred.” Wendy answered, pointing to a massive gate that was the pin destination on my phone. Finally.

When we pressed the doorbell, the gate was opened as we mentioned Seulgi’s name. Once we got inside, I saw a house that was too familiar. My voice was stuck in my throat as I stared at the structure longer than I was supposed to.

When she noticed that I wasn’t responding to her comments about the manor, Wendy called my name and looked over her shoulder to see me frozen on my spot. “Are you okay?”

I slowly turned my head to her, my index finger pointing to the house in front of the lot. “T-that’s—”

“Oh,” Wendy glanced to where I was pointing at. “The security right there said that it’s where the staff stay. All carts were taken so he said that we need to walk to the main house.”

Right then, my eyes started scanning the place slowly. It was the Byun’s manor. There were some changes, but I knew the place by heart. My heart was thumping inside my chest loudly, and my fingers felt clammy.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wendy held my arm; concern was evident in her voice. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

I forced myself to nod, giving her a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

She looked hesitant at first, but when I grabbed her arm to walk to the main house, she threw her doubts away. She admired the manor as we walked further into the lot.

I was honestly not feeling well. My head was spinning a little bit, I felt nauseous, and I wanted to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that there was no way in hell that it was true, that it did happen in real life.

Not when I finally truly accepted that it was just a dream.

Not when it took me years to finally move on.

When we were ushered into the main house’s dining hall, a few people were already conversing with one another. I kept my mouth shut as Wendy tried to look for Seulgi, who was already here as she informed me.

I sat in the corner of the dining hall while Wendy looked around the place. I felt so out of place, but it didn’t bother me much since I focused on how I would cope after this.

Acceptance and moving on were the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life so far. I was unable to eat or drink water. I was unable to function or sleep. I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t have someone to talk to about this.

No one will believe me.

It was a process of healing, accepting that it didn’t happen, and moving on from the emotions that were built. It took me a long time, but I did it.

But when I wanted to be there for a friend, I didn’t know it would harm me more than I could ever imagine.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a butler caught everyone’s attention. It was a special occasion, and the family would open the library hall, where antiques from their ancestors hundreds of years ago were kept.

Wendy was an Art major; she got excited and pulled me up from the chair I was sitting on. “Seulgi said that some of their ancestors were great at painting canvases. Let’s go and see!”

I could only smile at her, unable to say anything.

The butler would patiently explain something when someone asked. I followed Wendy around when I noticed Seulgi was not here with us. “Oh,” Wendy shrugged, rolling her eyes playfully, “she’s with him. She said that she’ll introduce us later.”

I stopped in front of the framed document and hung on an empty wall. It was a land title. I was about to walk away from it when something caught my attention.

Was that our home address?

Before I could react further, Wendy hollered my name, asking me to come over as the butler would finally show the paintings she was excited about.

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said, but it was not. Every canvas was beautiful. Even though I knew nothing about art, unlike Wendy, I still appreciated each piece displayed in the hall.

I was walking further down the hall, and I didn’t even notice that I’d been separated from Wendy. From paintings, old portraits were displayed on the other side of the hall. My lips slowly spread into a smile when photos of the old city were shown.

Observing each photo briefly, my feet brought me to the end of the hall, where a black-and-white photo was taken. There was too much noise, but I knew that face.

“San,” my mouth fell open as I let out a deep, trembling breath upon recognizing the man who helped me. That’s San. I couldn’t be wrong. I know his hairline, as offending as it might be. And it’s him.

My chest started to heave, but I forced myself to continue observing the portraits. Another photo caught my attention. It was three images merged into a single frame. It was a picture of the wardrobe that was in our attic. It was captured on an empty lot. The next photo was of the same lot, but a house was being constructed on it. The last picture was when the house had been built completely.

It was my parents’ house.

My hand raised to cover my mouth as I let out a sob. I couldn’t believe this was happening right now. Then I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.

It was a notification from iCloud that the syncing of my files was completed. I was confused, as I clearly remembered that I turned off the feature to automatically sync my files. I opened the backup storage and saw the newly added photo.

It was a blurry candid photo of a man in a white dress shirt and waistcoat.

Baekhyun.

It was the photo I was looking for two years ago. It did exist.

Then I saw something hung on the wall at the very end of the hall; however, the lights weren’t turned on, and there was a stanchion. Despite knowing that it was prohibited for a reason, I decided to follow my instinct and walk towards the stanchion.

A painting was hung. Though this side of the hall was dimmed, I could still see the messy painting. A figure hugging her knees, her feet bare, and her face hidden on her folded arms. Fingers peeked out, and the ring bought from the streets of Hongdae was visible.

The painted character was a weird interpretation, but it was my Winnie the Pooh pyjamas.

That was me.

In the prison cell where I first met Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to remember his voice, his touch, everything about him.

When I opened my eyes to admire his messy work once more, I noticed the handwriting framed below the painting. I leaned a bit to read what it said.

“My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again.

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew...

I was Enchanted to meet you.”

I finished reading it with a deep, trembling breath. My shoulders were starting to shake from wanting to wail so badly, but I knew I needed to keep it in as I didn’t want to create a scene where a lot of people around.

I wasn’t even able to calm down when I heard my name being called. The voice was Seulgi’s. I plastered a smile, wiping my soaked cheeks with my hand before turning around.

There he was, eyes were already locked on mine.

His eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

Across the room, his silhouette started to make its way to me.

My eyes followed his every movement, from how his eyes danced around my face to his pink hair bouncing with every step.

I could feel my bottom lip quiver when he stood right before my eyes, our orbs locked to each other as Seulgi introduced us.

“He’s the friend I was telling you about!” Seulgi gushed, and I felt terrible I didn’t even acknowledge her presence. “His name is Baekhyun.”

Instinctively, I repeated his name, missing how it felt to say it from my lips. “Baekhyun.”

He smiled gently, and it was the same beautiful smile I had ever seen.

His eyes darted to the painting behind me before shifting his gaze to the ring on my finger, which was similar to what was in the painting, then to my face, his orbs danced around my features. I was so familiar with his smile that it could replace my anxiousness with a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves.

“Hey.”

This is me praying that this was the very first page.

Not where the storyline ends.

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