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marigolddove · 1 year ago

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Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part 3

Request by: @yandere-dark-cupid

I stayed up until 3 am writing this, passed out and then woke up at 6 am to finish it lol. It's okay though I'm not tired, I'm just happy to be writing. I hope you all enjoy this part there will definitely be another part which will probably be the final for a while. I'll probably try and leave this story with a not-so-official ending because I might make one-shots based around this in the future.

Also I'm getting a new job soon so that might cut into my writing a bit but I'm going to keep writing no matter what I'm so grateful for Welcome Home and all it's characters and all my fellow fanfic writers and artists out there making more and more content for this fandom. You guys are all awesome and Welcome Home is officially my comfort Fandom, without it I might've never wrote anything ever again. So thank you to @partycoffin, and all of the AU creators, you're all truly wonderful people.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of torture and violence, anger issues.

@elegantkidfansoul, @sunkyss, @all-things-fandomstuck, @sailorsimp13, @cricketsjunk

💀♥️💀

Wally couldn't believe he didn't have one single vase in his apartment, not one! He had been so certain he'd had flowers before, surely he'd had…he was a lover of beauty and nature, so it was extremely frustrating when he couldn't find his—imaginary—vase.

He could've let it go there, just put the bouquet in a tall glass or leave them out to dry and get a vase tomorrow, but to be honest he was procrastinating when he suddenly decided he needed a vase before his nap; he knew of a flower shop fifteen minutes away on a strip he was well familiar with—he often got lunch or dinner from a nextdoor diner, well he did before he hit this depression.

That's what all this is about, after all. Depression.

He lost the desire, the drive, to style his hair, paint, draw, talk to his friends and employees, he doesn't even make eye-contact like he used to; and now to top it all off, he realizes, there's absolutely no life in his apartment. Even his old paintings feel soulless, hollow, because they don't fill him with the emotions he once held as he crafted them.

When the depression set in, he couldn't be sure, it had been a gradual change; but it was one he hadn't noticed until now, he hadn't wanted to think about it.

He feels his face flush in embarrassment as he thinks of his neglect of himself and his home as he drives to the shop, the sky turning orange and blue behind the many buildings surrounding him.

As he kept his eyes trained on the still bustling road ahead, he could only hope he would make it in time so this uncoordinated trip wouldn't be a complete waste.

—————————

With traffic being convinently merciful to him this early in the evening time, he is soon racing to the shops entrance door, bouquet delicately cradled by his left arm; completely missing the 'open' sign flipping to 'closed' as his unoccupied hand grasps the door handle and turns.

As he pushes into the building he is shocked to find an employee standing right at the entrance, hand quickly retracting from the door as they lock eyes with him, seemingly just as shocked by his sudden entrance.

The bell above the door chimes.

For Mr. Darling, renowned local kingpin, ruthless 'family' man, time seemed to slow for a moment, just a moment. It was almost as if the chiming of the bell had put him into a trance, or maybe it was just you.

There you stand, (h/c) hair fluttering from the sudden rush of wind that came from him opening the door, staring right at him; your work uniform fitting you quite nicely, especially with your own accessories that added a unique personal touch, not to mention the smell—which was most definitely the shop, but there is no doubt in his mind that you smell any different—sweet and floral.

You're the first to speak, voice a bit nervous at his stare, "O-Oh! Hello, we–ah, I, was just about to close up shop." You move the hand that had been reaching for the door handle to fiddle with a ring on your opposite pinky finger, a sign of anxiety.

Realizing how he must look, a bit wild from the wind whipping his already disheveled hair around with tired eyes, his ears and cheeks grew a little hot, but he clears his throat into his hand as he tries to recover from his sudden and silly attraction.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to just barge in here, but…" he shrugs the arm cradling the bouquet, "I'm looking for a vase, this shop was the only place I could think to find one and it wasn't a far drive…I thought I had a vase, but I was wrong." He explains ratherly lamely, his usual suave and calm demeanor shattered by his growing embarrassment at his current mental and physical state. This was a mistake, he should've just waited for the morning or let the flowers dry out, he should be sleeping right now.

Like an angel you smile at him, so bright and warm it almost feels like the sun is beaming at him, "That's alright! I don't mind a bit, sir, follow me I have some you can choose from in the back." You move to allow him full access and then make your way to what looks to be a storage closet at the back of the shop.

He follows without a word, eyes glued to your figure as you seem to glide to the back, your feet making little to no noise as you move.

The door to the storage closet is open with chalk board sign leaning against the wall next to the door frame, 'small vase $10, medium $15, large $25 ALL HAND MADE!!'.

"You make your own vases?" Wally asks, impressed even before seeing the quality of your work.

You flush as you glance at the sign and then gesture to the closet, signaling him to take a look at your stock, "Yeah, it's a new thing I started doing…I've always been into crafts and stuff like that and working with clay seemed really fun and challenging, so…." He notices your words grow softer, seemingly embarrassed.

Well he can certainly tell you're a beginner, many of the pieces seem a bit lop sided or misshapen, but some are charming due to their faults. Something art had taught him early on is to love imperfections just as much as perfections.

"They're charming." He says, and it's the truth, hearing the honesty in his tone makes you turn a bit more red as you smile gratefully at him.

"Which would you recommend for this bouquet?" He asks, he already has an idea of which vase he'd pick but he wants to hear your opinion.

You eyeball the bouquet, a knowing look sparkling in your (e/c) eyes, and look to the assortment of pottery, "hmm".

Your eyes land on a particularly unique piece on the bottom shelf, it's wide and a bit overly round at the bottom and it narrows a bit more dramatically than you intended at the top, it was also colorful, painted with vertical rainbow stripes that had come out very pastel when you had originally wanted a very bold rainbow color. Overall it had been a bit of a flop, but at the same time it has become one of your favorite pieces and it was a tragedy it had never been used. Whether it looked good with this particular bouquet didn't really matter, to be honest it didn't compliment the bouquet at all, but it deserves a home.

Following your gaze, Wally examines the piece you're staring at so intensely.

"Is that the one?" It certainly wasn't the one he was going to pick, but the way you stared at it with such sentiment made his heart leap. Oh how he missed the days when he would look at his own art with such a nostalgic and sentimental gaze.

"I don't know…it's a little ugly, to be honest…it doesn't really go with the flowers."

"I can always get more flowers." He responds smoothly, catching even himself off guard.

The two of you lock eyes again and he wishes he had examined himself before coming here, so he could know how you see him. He's certain he looks like a mess, and not a hot one.

You seem taken back by his response, but recover quickly to smile, "Yeah, I guess you can. This is a flower shop after all." You glance down at his bouquet again, "you wouldn't happen to know someone named Julie, would you?"

He knew you would recognize the tag and the flower combination, so your question didn't phase him, "Yes, actually. I'm sorry I couldn't come in for the flowers myself, at the time I was…busy."

"Ah, no need to apologize, worrying about a funeral is tough even when you weren't close to the person who died. I'm sorry for being a bit nosey."

"I don't think you're being nosey at all," he ignores the bit about the funeral, not wanting to really lie, but still omitting the truth, "these flowers you picked are really very lovely, I almost want to keep them for myself." He absolutely intends on keeping them for himself.

Your smile turns a bit bashful, "Oh, well thank you. It's nice to know I got it right." Turning back to the shelves of pottery, you crouch to the one you had been staring at, "So is this the one you'd like? Or did you have your eye on another?"

"I'll take that one and these two as well." He gestures his free hand to two other pieces, one being a bit plain and lumpy, the other a bit more colorful; the base color being yellow with red and blue swirls.

"Three?" You ask, a bit surprised.

He grins at you, and unknown to him your heart flutters, "This way I have an excuse to come back, I'm going to need flowers for them, right?" It's been a while since he's tried flirting, but by the way your entire face seems to light up and flush he's certain it's been effective.

"R-Right," you grab two of the vases as he grabs one, "that's three medium sized pots so it'll be $45 dollars." The two of you make your way to the check out counter and place the three pots delicately, "I'll go ahead and wrap these for you." As he grabs the money out of his wallet, you rummage through the work table and pull out a bundle of plain wrapping paper. Carefully, you wrap each individual piece in a thick protective layer of paper, then delicately place the three into an oversized grocery bag, adding more wads of paper between each piece.

Wally lays the money down onto the counter, slipping an extra $5 bill as a tip, as you place the finishing touches on the bag of fragiles. When you're pleased with your work, you hand him the bag with a wide grin, collecting the cash; before you can finish counting Wally tips his head to you.

"You have a good night, doll, stay safe." Without another word he exits the shop, you call after him about his change but he doesn't respond. Upon examining the extra $5 bill closer you notice a series of numbers written on it, when had he done that?

It doesn't take a genius to know that he's written a cell phone number on the bill, despite his somewhat messy appearance your stomach feels as though it's infested with butterflies at the idea that he might have been interested in you. He certainly had flirted with you a little bit, but that didn't have to mean anything, but leaving his number? That means something.

He did say he would need to come back for more flowers, you smile at the thought, carefully folding the bill and tucking it into your pants pocket. You begin to close shop again, this time with no interruptions.

—————————

Julie should've told him he looked this awful, he thought to himself as he examined his reflection in the rear view mirror. No, no, no this won't do! Horror pierced it's way into his heart as he also realized that this is how he had looked during your entire interaction. He had flirted like this…left his number looking like this.

A part of him wanted to storm back into the shop and explain that this isn't him, just something he's been dealing with, tell you that he's not some pathetic, greasy nobody like he knew you must've thought he was.

He's Wally fucking Darling, he kills whoever he wants, whenever he wants, sells what he deems profitable no matter how morally gray and takes whatever he pleases. The people that surround him know to not only fear him but to adore him.

In his sudden shock and growing fury he almost, nearly, throws the bag of pottery to the floor of his passenger side; but he doesn't, of course, he's much too collected to just fly off the handle and break things—he most certainly is not, just two weeks before he broke that not-so imaginary vase he knew he had, it had been in a fit of frustration towards Howdy for failing a trade agreement; Wally didn't remember it now, but that day he had taken his only vase and chucked it at Howdy's much higher head. He had missed entirely, and now he's forgotten the whole ordeal.

Thankfully there's even less traffic, somehow, on the way back, which keeps his temper low but bubbling gently to the surface. A rolling boil was sure to start.

When he arrived back to his apartment, he placed the pots onto his sofa along with the bouquet, so delicate compared to the war of emotions he held inside.

Remember: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—

He enters his massive, stunning bathroom and makes a b-line for the mirrors, he needs a better look at the damage his neglect has done.

If looks could kill one look would make the mirrors shatter, this isn't who he is. He feels like an imposter in his own body when he looks at himself, hair greasy and wild—no longer slicked back due to the wind, he doesn't even like slicking back his hair, it isn't his style! Then there's the grotesque bags under his eyes, when had they become so dark and puffy? How hadn't he noticed sooner? The rage was building now.

7, 8, 9—

Why was his skin so dull an–and sallow?!

Suddenly the sound of his marble counter top cracking triggers a roar of emotion to overwhelm him, he doesn't even register he's injured himself by slamming a fist down onto the marble. The emotions are so raw, so heavy, he doesn't even realize he's out of the bathroom now; doesn't hear the carnage he's creating or his own howls and shouts of incoherent anger and frustration.

When and how did he become so pathetic? How long had the others just sat idly by watching him grow weaker and uglier. His anger blinds him to the memories of when they had tried, all of them had; even Howdy, who wasn't the biggest fan of Wally to begin with, had tried.

The shrill ringing of his telephone snaps him back to reality, in his now bloodied and bruising hands he grips a broken frame that holds–held one of his own designs. His breathing is heavy and his head is swimming, wasn't he just in the bathroom a moment ago?

He drops the frame and stumbles to the phone, wincing at the loudness of it, he doesn't even take a moment to collect himself before answering.

"What do you wa–"

"Hello!" Your soft, sweet voice timidly interrupts his rude greeting.

Suddenly his stomach dips and his heart flips, he really hopes you hadn't heard him.

"Uh-uhm, it seems like I've caught you at a bad time, ha ha. I'm sorry about that, sir." You had heard his sour attitude, fuck.

"No, no," he corrects hastily, not wanting you to hang up, "I'm sorry, I just…I just injured myself getting to the phone." The lie feels bitter, like bile rising in his throat, fuck why did he lie?

"Oh," is your meek response, then a pause, "Well…I'm sorry for calling you so soon…and it's a bit late too, ah, this is so silly I'm really sorry."

He's about to reassure you he doesn't mind in the slightest, and it's the truth, but you continue quickly.

"It's just that I didn't ever give you my name, a-and I never got yours. Also I wanted to give you my number as well, that way I don't have to do all the calling myself, you see." Your stuttering is cute, but your sickeningly sweet reason for calling him has him swooning most of all.

"I see, well," he straightens himself, confidence filling him once more, "My name is Wally, Wally Darling, and you are..?"

"Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"That's a lovely name for such an enchanting flower like yourself, Y/N." He purrs, his turmoil and self-esteem issues quickly forgotten by this new cocktail of emotions, suddenly he's like a giddy teenage boy; twirling the phone cord between his fingers, a toothy smirk growing on his face and he imagines you blushing like you did in the shop.

"Your name is really cute too," you reply, you sound embarrassed but you're definitely smiling.

"Thank you," he grabs the note pad and pen he keeps by his landline, "Now then, what's your number?"

"O-Oh, right!" You quickly tell him your number and he repeats it back to you, once he's gotten it correct he smiles, gently placing his pen back down onto the table.

Sighing, "I must say, I'm glad you called." He admits.

"Oh?"

He hums, "Yes, when I got to my car I realized how I must have appeared to you. I typically take better care of myself, but, well, recently I've 'let myself go'." His tone remains light, almost dreamy as he speaks to you, even though on the inside he can feel the suffocating emotions from before bubbling up again.

"I just thought you were having an off day, you're actually very handsome." The way you say it, like its a fact he should already know, makes his face warm. Those emotions dying quickly before they can rise again, for a complete stranger you seem to have a powerful hold over him, you're able to make him feel nervous and excited.

It's pleasant.

"Well," you start, "It's getting late, I'm sure we both have things to do before nighttime."

He glances at the mess he made during his episode, as much as he wanted to disagree he knew he needed to clean up. He wouldn't live in this embarrassment any longer.

"Yes, thank you again for calling me, Y/N. I hope you have a good night."

"You too."

"Stay safe." He hears the receiver cut off on your end, he sighs into the now quiet and lonely air. He's grateful for your ability to distract him, he would've caused more damage to not only his home but to himself had you not called.

Wally looks around at the carnage he caused, grateful he didn't damage his newly aquired pottery and flowers. It's time to fix this.

—————————

When Barnaby returns to the building he's immediately greeted by Frank, with a disgruntled Eddie in tow. He had taken a bit longer than he would've liked with the rat, but the boss told him to really work on the guy, and he wanted to be sure the body couldn't be found and linked back to them. He's very thorough.

So he's a bit tired when he's approached by Frank, their face intense.

"Something's wrong with Wally."

Immediately dread fills Barnaby, worried something happened while he was gone, "What happened?"

"We heard him screaming and loud noises, like things being broken, upstairs."

"And neither of you thought to check on him?!" He barks, immediately heading for the elevator.

"It wasn't like the sound of struggling, I know what a struggle sounds like. He's probably just having a fit, like usual now-a-days, and I don't want myself or Frank to be caught in the cross fire." Eddie replies, his tone indifferent.

Frank sighs, following close behind Barnaby, "I wanted to go up and see him, but after what happened with Howdy–"

"I know." Barnaby cuts him off. A vase hadn't been the only thing Wally had thrown at Howdy the last time he became like this, and the vase hadn't landed anyway; but a paper weight had, and so did his punches. Despite not liking him, Howdy had stood there and taken it, claiming the boss "needed that more than anyone knew".

Barnaby wishes it had been him, not Howdy. He didn't want Wally to hurt him, but he's his best friend and he wants to be the one that's there for him at his absolute lowest, as well as his highest. It feels like recently he's missing all of the moments that are crucial for helping his first friend.

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll go see him alone now. You two get back to…whatever you were doing, have a good night." Frank looks like they're about to respond but the elevator doors close, effectively cutting them off.

Barnaby sighs into the silence of the elevator, readying himself for what's to come when he reaches Wally's penthouse.

He's surprised when he arrives and the room is filled with gentle music coming from the Gramophone—the record player—across the spacious living area; someone's singing in the bathroom, he soon realizes it's Wally singing and he's even more stunned. Wally hasn't sung a song in all the time he's known him, claiming he couldn't carry a tune.

To Barnaby, he sounds like a professional, smooth and suave. It almost feels like he's intruding, but the mess of the room makes him stay. Wally seems to have started cleaning up his mess, which is a nice change of pace. Typically Julie would come in and clean for him after hearing he'd had an episode, saying he deserves a clean safe space, even if he's the one trashing the place.

Barnaby moves to relax on the sofa, careful to avoid the bag Wally had left. He sits and waits a while, enjoying the soft melody and the surprisingly relaxing aura that the chaotic room held. He finds himself humming along with Wally, not knowing the words of his song.

When he hears his friend's singing end and the water shut off his posture straightens and becomes a little tense; worried how his little buddy might react at his sudden intrusion.

To his surprise, Wally exits the bathroom in a plush bathrobe, hair expertly wrapped in a towel atop his head as he continues humming a tune; and when he catches sight of Barnaby he's shocked but smiles.

"Ah, you're back. I did wonder if you would come and see me again today, I'm glad you're back safe." He moves closer to the sofa, bare feet padding against the hard wood floors, "Sorry for the mess, I got a bit carried away again today. I'm also sorry if I've been short with you today."

"There's no need to apologize, Boss. I'm just glad you're looking better."

"I do look better don't I? It's amazing what a shower and a quick skin care routine can do to a man." He says as he rummages through the grocery bag on the couch, pulling out three bulky items wrapped in paper.

He sits next to Barnaby and unwraps them, the record now fading into a new melody. Wally places three…interesting vases on the low table in front of them. His smile seems brighter as he looks at them.

"You starting a collection?" Barnaby jokes.

Wally hums, "I'm considering it."

"I told Julie to buy flowers for the…rat's lady friend, I intended on sending her a message with them, only to find out she herself is a rat. So I decided I'd keep the flowers for myself, they're quite pretty." He explained, his voice soft.

"But what's with the pottery?"

Wally laughs, "Well pretty flowers need equally pretty vases, my friend." Barnaby wasn't sure he would call them pretty, but he wasn't an artist so what would he know?

"Why'd ya get three though?"

"You're awfully inquisitive today, aren't you?" For a moment Barnaby worries he's stepped too far, but Wally's tone sounds mostly teasing and light hearted, "I bought three because I couldn't just pick one that I liked; besides, my home could use more art."

"Yeah, sure. It's just nice to see you smiling and, uh, getting out there." He admits awkwardly, his smaller friend looking up at him with a wide grin, it seems genuine compared to his usual facade.

"It has been nice, today hasn't been perfect, but it's been nice." Wally rises from the sofa, grabbing the plain, lumpy vase and the bouquet as he moves to the kitchen.

Carefully, he fills the vase with the recommended amount of water and retrieves a bit of lemon juice he's had sitting in his fridge for a month now—it's been longer than a month, he just doesn't know that—he adds a few drops to the tap water before arranging the flowers inside the vase.

He carries the vase filled with flowers back to Barnaby and places them at the center of the low table, adjusting it's position on the table until he deems it perfect.

Wally sighs as he relaxes back onto the couch next to his much larger friend, "Now all I need is more flowers to fill the other two, perhaps I'll make paintings of them as well, they're inspiring me already." He didn't say what else might be inspiring him, but in his mind an image of you formed. Maybe he would sketch you as well.

Barnaby raised a brow at him, even though he wouldn't see it, and smiled, "Hey, I'm glad you're wanting to paint again little buddy, after what happened earlier I thought you might be giving up for good."

Mentioning their time together earlier that day seemed to sour Wally's mood a bit, "Yeah, well, torture and death aren't always the best motivation I've realized."

At his sudden tone change, Barnaby scrambles to get him back to his pleasant mood, "So where'd ya get the pottery? Any place I might know?"

This seems to work as a twinkle appears in his eyes once again and he turns to fully face Barnaby, a soft and genuine smile gracing his features.

"You might, Eddie talks about it all the time it would seem, everyone knew about it but me, ha ha." He continued, "Well, actually, I knew of the flower shop but I had never gone in before, until today. You might know it, it's (S/N), over on 9th Street."

Barnaby contemplates the location a moment, he can't say that he does recall a flower shop there, "It's not ringing any bells, but whats so special about it, you seem very…happy and I'm not so sure it's about a flower shop."

Wally's eyes widen and pink dusts across his cheeks, something Barnaby isn't sure he's ever seen happen to his friend before, "Well, I suppose it's about more than a shop, yes," then he stubbornly adds, "Although the flowers do make me happy."

Barnaby motions for him to continue, Wally sighs and while it sounds like frustration he still has a grin on his face.

That's when Barnaby learns about you, although he's certain he might have heard of you before through Eddie Dear, but he knows Eddie never talked about you so dreamily.

This is also when Barnaby learns that his best friend might have experienced love at first sight.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #eddie x frank #Mafia! AU #mafia!Wally Darling #wally has some personal issues #this is gonna be cheesy #its love at first sight #deal with it #barnaby beagle

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papermatisse · 2 years ago

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Oasis || O.SH (IV)

♔ pairing: superhero!sehun x f!reader

♔ genre: fluff, angst, crack

♔ word count: 15.7k

♔ warnings: profanity, violence, death mentions

♔ synopsis: EXO: the nine member superhero gang protecting the city of Exodus. For years, they've done just that. A sudden turn of events leads them all stressed, confused, and paranoid beyond belief. A paranoia which could either lead them to answers or turn them against one another— turn them against their city.

♔ a/n: sorry this took so much longer than intended lol I just sorta stopped writing for the most part. also apologies for the hefty chapter 🙏 I do be writing some bs lol

series masterlist | main masterlist

"Then this lady threw an actual fit in the middle of the shop, yelling and pointing at me, shoving the bouquet in my face." (y/n) huffed in aggravation before turning to Sehun, wrinkling her face in disdain while waving her hand frantically. "Oh, I asked for tulips, and you're giving me these things that don't even look like what I wanted." She then returned to her normal expression, pressing her hands to her chest and continuing her story. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can assure you these are tulips. They'll fully bloom later today." She returned to chopping the vegetables, still clearly frustrated from the encounter at work. "And she paid for the flowers and left, but she still yelled and complained for no reason at all. She was like, 'you're lucky I'm short on time, I'll take whatever these are.'" She laughed in annoyance, her dicing growing more manic by the second. "I would just love to see her reaction by now when she sees I was right this entire–"

She stopped as Sehun's hand wrapped around her wrist, drawing her away from the cutting board. He hummed in acknowledgement, slipping the knife from her hands and placing it on the counter.

"Sounds like a very rude woman. I'm sorry you had to go through that today." He gently pulled her into him, letting her sigh into his chest as he patted her back. It remained silent for a moment more before he pulled away.

Looking into each other had soon become a habit between the two. The gentle gazes they'd share, the kind smiles only reserved for one another, how genuine their friendship had grown to be in just a few weeks. A friendship as genuine as Sehun could muster.

It was becoming more and more difficult for Sehun to dismiss these growing feelings. He wanted to blame it on the fact that he hadn't been around people in a long while, hasn't had the opportunity to truly socialize with others outside of EXO. Yet even so, even if he befriended the entirety of Exodus, something in him told him that (y/n) would still be that outlier. The single inconsistency in his life.

Just as (y/n) stood before him now, coaxing an affection Sehun hadn't known he attained within him, she would continue to affect him as such in this rhetorical alternate scenario of his.

Softly clearing his throat, he tore his eyes from hers, ushering her over to the barstools by the counters. He returned to the stove, grabbing her butchered vegetables and sliding them into the broth.

"I'm sure she's feeling rather embarrassed for creating such a scene." He added, stirring the mixture before him as her laughter filled the air, soothing the tension within him as the melodic sound reached his ears.

"I hope so. There were a few other people in the shop at the time. I hope they remember her and don't let her live down this moment." There was a pause as they returned to their own devices, Sehun focusing on finishing his soup until (y/n) spoke again. "Is that mean of me? To wish she realizes and remembers her stupidity from today?" He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her eyebrows scrunched together as she deliberated on her actions. A smile grew on his face as he turned away again.

"Not necessarily. By her remembering what she did, it could help her learn from her mistake. Prevent it from happening again to another worker in another establishment." He lowered the heat of the stove, drawing it to a simmer before turning and facing (y/n). "It's good to wish people learn from their experiences. It's not healthy for everyone to assume they're right always, and their opinions are the only ones that matter."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing at Sehun's words before breaking into laughter again.

"I hate people like that." Sehun walked over, leaning his elbow on the counter with his head in his hand as he took in (y/n). "My mom was like that, my entire childhood, I…" She paused, the smile on her face somewhat fading for a moment as she remembered something. Seconds later, her smile all but disappeared, replaced by a monotonous glaze as memories began resurfacing. Her shift in mood concerned Sehun, causing him to break into immediate action, circling the counter and sitting beside her. His hand rested on her lower back, thumb softly stroking (y/n) as he waited for her return to the present.

This was another thing which had become normal between the two. Sehun knew near everything about (y/n) at this point, from her favorite movies to her pet peeves. They had grown so close to one another that he could even tell what food she'd be in the mood for, already preparing it before she could decide for herself what she wanted to eat. He took pride in this, in the fact that he was the one person in the world who knew (y/n) inside and out– excluding her past.

He had experienced countless trauma victims in his time as Aero. From rescuing civilians in the face of danger to visiting them later on in the hospitals. He strived to ensure everyone's safety was secured, and though he may prevent physical harm from befalling them, the mental stress of living in constant danger was something which sadly afflicted many citizens. Something which Sehun couldn't prevent no matter how hard he tried. He's seen trauma victims of all sorts, with varying degrees of symptoms as well as different experiences, and from what he's seen of (y/n), she couldn't have had a necessarily merry childhood.

He never pressed her for more, never encouraged her to talk to him about it. He just stayed beside her, patiently comforting her, waiting for whenever she felt ready to talk to him about it. To entrust him with the weight she seemed to forever burden herself with.

"My mom… Didn't like me doing something." She explained, head down turned as she picked at her nails. "And I always tried explaining from my perspective, but she never listened." She looked to Sehun, eyes glassy with impending tears. "It was like she knew only one solution to the problem and it was her solution."

Sehun nodded, hand rising to her head, combing through her locks and gently unraveling the few tangles within them. Every brush of his fingers against her scalp seemed to chip away at her resolve, and soon she found herself shutting her eyes, a stray tear slipping past her defenses and sliding down her face.

He stopped his movements, lowering his hand once more to her back while bringing the other to her knees. Lifting her up, he cradled (y/n) against him, making his way to her living room before falling onto the couch. All the while, she silently wept into his shirt, clutching onto the fabric as if hoping, praying he wouldn't abandon her. As if she'd release him only to have him dissipate in the air.

And he let her cry. He embraced her, felt the moisture seeping through the material of his top. His head rested upon her own, eyes sliding shut as he pressed her against himself. As if a silent reminder to her that he was and always would be there for her.

As they spent more time together, Sehun came to realize how opposite they truly were. Whereas Sehun strived for normalcy, to settle down and live a boring, yet ever mundane lifestyle, continuing his career as a journalist and seeking stability in every aspect of his life, (y/n) stood as the antithesis to his every aspiration.

She was anything but normal, near impossible to blend in with that of society. She never stayed for long, merely following wherever her heart desires her to go. Her heart, which was as liberating as a kite, following wherever the wind seemed to take it. For now, she resided here, a florist in a quaint apartment complex where the only other resident her age was her polar opposite.

Sehun was a mountain. A sturdy, unmoving feat of nature. He remained where he sat, and would forever remain that way.

(y/n) was the ocean. Reckless, carefree, unrestricted in every sense of the word. She was a force to be reckoned with, if anyone were to stand in her way. A terrifying, almost intimidating existence to Sehun, yet was unbearably beautiful. A sight which near took his breath away. How free she was, how open she was. Ever vast, never still.

Sehun craved that sort of beauty, how she near glistened as she lived this life that seemed to be trial after trial for him. Though he feared that darkness within her depths, a discovery he may never come to learn, he found himself diving headfirst into her, ready to be embraced by her everything, accepting whatever she had in store for him.

And he remained there, the sturdy rock to her turbulent seas, grounding her when she needed that moment of peace. Allowing her sorrow-soaked tears to imbibe into the stitches of his shirt. Feeling those tumultuous waves beat against his stone surface, and he took every impact, gathering as much of her burden as she was willing to give.

"Sehun…" She whispered, her voice cracking between the tears which continued to fall. He hummed, hand moving up and down her back to shush her cries. "Will you… hold me?"

"I am holding you," he spoke, an undeniable mirth in his tone as he drew her ever closer. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." She replied, a laugh breaking out between her sob as she burrowed closer into his neck. "Please don't leave me."

He hummed, finding it somewhat ironic that she shared the same fear as him. That this world they created for themselves, though seemingly so durable, resistant to anything which may try to destroy it, could easily be abolished by the mere absence of the other. That one day, (y/n) and her unending ocean could just disappear, leaving him behind as nothing more than a rock.

He had found something outside of that dream of domesticity he set up for himself. Something he now couldn't live without.

"Like I said. I'm not going anywhere." She settled against him, a light sigh hitting the skin of his neck as her muscles slowly but surely loosened their tension.

It was calm. The sun finally sunk beyond the horizon, a faint orange glow still permeating through the inky blackness of the night sky past her window. The air conditioning left a low hum in the atmosphere, white noise at this point, though still apparent enough to be heard. Their breathing was low, a slow and steady sound as they grew more and more comfortable in the moment. And with her weight resting on him, her fingers curled against his chest in a gentle touch, Sehun felt himself sinking further and further into sleep, a slight smile spreading across his face at the sheer tranquility of it all.

That is until he remembered his soup still on the stove.

He gasped, sitting upright and causing her to flinch from the sudden jostle beneath her. (y/n) looked to him, eyes widened in shock, and also barren of tears, which seemed to calm Sehun down some, knowing she wasn't too distraught anymore. Though he still remained antsy, glancing backwards towards the kitchen.

"My soup…" He mumbled, a pout forming as he hoped it hadn't gotten overcooked during this duration of time.

It was silent for a moment, until seconds later when (y/n) snorted, erupting into a cackle as she rolled off Sehun, grasping at one of the throw pillows on her couch for support. Sehun bit his lip, smile already forming as she continued to laugh away beside him. His heart warmed, never liking to see her in such a sad state as before. He'd trade anything in the world to keep her smiling.

"Go and check your cuisine, Chef, I'll set up the table." She instructed, once she had finally calmed down enough to speak.

Though (y/n) seemed completely recovered, back to smiling and chatting away as per usual, Sehun couldn't help but worry for her. She was holding in so much. He knew he wasn't a therapist. He knew they didn't know each other for very long. He knew all of this, yet he still yearned for her to trust him. Trust him wholeheartedly, tell him her anxieties, share her worries, so maybe she could recover from them instead of carrying all of this with herself through the years.

She's told him before she doesn't have friends. That she's moved so often that she doesn't make connections with people, nor feel the need to make connections with people. Which pleased Sehun somewhat, knowing she broke this routine of hers to befriend him. Yet his eyes remained on her throughout dinner, glancing back at his food every so often, but mainly staying upon her, worried that she was still distraught about everything from before, and was merely hiding it as she seemingly always does.

It was scary how well she wore this mask of hers. This facade she donned whenever in his presence. Or anyone's presence in general. He didn't like to consider himself as just anyone though. Which was why it pained him, seeing her parade around as she did. Her smile was as breathtaking as it always was, yet it now seemed desolate. Empty, almost. A shell of jubilance, though nothing really there.

"This is really good." She noted, taking another spoonful of soup in her mouth. He grinned, stirring the contents of his bowl absentmindedly as he nodded at her words.

"Thank you. I learned it from Kyungsoo." He scooped some broth up, lifting the spoon and allowing the liquids to pour back into the bowl below. "It's fairly easy. We'd have it every other week or so." Sehun paused, reminiscing on his college days with a soft chuckle. "It does feel kind of weird, though. We'd usually always go to this ice cream parlor in the park after eating. It was tradition."

(y/n) hummed endearingly, warm smile on her face at Sehun's memories. Though she never outright said it, he knew she enjoyed hearing about his friends. She would always give her undivided attention when he spoke, yet it felt significantly more earnest when he'd mention one of the guys. The way her eyes would zero in on him, sparkling with mirth as he laughed at his past, and she'd laugh along with him.

He didn't realize how heartwarming such a simple detail of a person could be until he'd mention one of his friends and she'd understand him. He'd mention Baekhyun, thinking she must've forgotten at this point, yet she nods knowingly, pushing him to continue with a simple recap of, "the one who got a black eye from wielding nunchucks for the first time." As if every word he ever spoke to her was permanently ingrained in her mind, filed away on a section of her brain purely dedicated to him and his life, no matter how nonsensical the matter was.

And just as devoted as she was to listening to him, to absorbing his stories, acquainting herself with the people in his life as if she were truly meeting them, she was just as determined to involve herself in his life, comfortably nestling into every corner of his heart he was willing to offer her.

"Then why don't we go to this ice cream place?" She questioned, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her lips as if they were about to go on some epic heist.

"It's probably closed at this hour." He noted, glancing back at the moon risen behind her, peering at the two of them through her window. At this, she frowned, near pouting as she returned to her meal. And Sehun just couldn't allow such a devastating expression to cross her face again. "But we can try again tomorrow."

She perked up, practically lit up with glee at his proposition. And just as he had hoped, that smile of hers returned tenfold, rounding the apples of her cheeks in a joyful manner.

"Then, it's a date." She added.

Sehun paused, freezing in his spot at her words.

Did she really mean it? Did she really mean to use date? Did she mean just a simple outing? Or was she truly, genuinely showing interest in him? The same interest he held for her.

She had gone back to her soup, biting at her lip as if trying to contain her excitement. As if trying to hide this effect he supposedly has upon her.

His heart felt full at this. At the fact that the prospect of a date with him had sparked such a feeling in her. That she could be holding the same affections for him as he was for her. That he wasn't just going insane for liking someone so quickly, because she liked him just the same.

"It's a date." He repeated, mainly as affirmation for himself. Just to hear the words once more. To feel what it was like to say them, how each syllable just seemed to roll forth so easily. Just like everything else she brought to his life. She made his world seem so much easier than it truly was. As if he didn't need to worry so much, because at the end of the day, everything will be okay.

A soft squeal managed to slip past her lips, causing her hand to shoot up to her mouth and clamp itself over it. As she made eye contact with him, surprised at herself, he couldn't help but burst into laughter, covering his own mouth alongside her. And just like that, dinner was forgotten as they giggled like maniacs, hopeless in every way, though having not a single shred of doubt within them.

(y/n) hummed in delight, the sweet delicacy melting in her mouth as she took her first spoonful of ice cream. She looked to Sehun excitedly, eyes glistening with elation, silently giving him the answer to his question.

She really liked it.

"I'm glad." He responded before delving into his own treat.

The sun shone above, undeterred by the wisps of clouds stretched across the blue landscape. The park was near empty, with only the occasional other person passing by. The trees which hung over them offered a generous amount of shade as they made their way through the secluded path, with only some streams of light penetrating the dense brush above. Fallen leaves scattered the stoned walkway, rustling with the soft breeze that brushed against them.

It was the epitome of a perfect day, and Sehun couldn't have been more grateful for these odds. To have the perfect conditions for his first date with (y/n).

He says first, as he hoped there will be others. He hopes they can experience every weather together.

He hopes they get rained on after visiting a hole in the wall restaurant, forced to run down the streets hand in hand, laughing as they get showered upon by nature. He hopes for hot days, sweltering heat beating down upon them as they soak together in the pool, lazing in the cool waters until their skin wrinkles. He hopes they get snowed in, trapping them within the comfort of their apartments, bundled in sweaters and blankets, nestled against one another as they watch movies and drink cups of hot cocoa together.

He hopes he could forever bear witness to (y/n)'s happiness. The radiance of her smile as she strolled beside him, sharing in his traditions as if they were her own, no matter how silly it was to go out of their way to get this specific ice cream. Yet here they were, side by side eating that exact ice cream together. It meant everything to him. She meant everything to him.

Sehun had finished his ice cream, and moments later, so did (y/n). A wave of dread blanketed him as he could see the end of their date nearing quickly. There was no other purpose for them to be here, to be with one another outside of their apartments. She'd most likely expect them to leave right afterwards. But something in Sehun refused to give in so easily. Refused to let her slip through his fingers when he's so close to attaining the impossible.

The minute she tossed away her container, he grasped her hand in his, tugging her off the stone walkway and onto a dirt path veering off into a wooded area.

"Sehun, where are you taking me?" She asked, laughing as she looked around the area. Though not as well maintained as the main walkway, the dirt beneath them still held a purpose to it, leading them through its beaten path until winding into a clear opening.

It was another section of the park, though significantly less populated. Practically empty, were it not for the gentleman and his dog strolling by on the opposite end of the stream, slowly but surely moving away from the scene as they continued on their route. Behind them lay the thick wall of tree they just ambled through, and across from it was a narrow trickle of water, softly murmuring as it coursed through the rocks beneath it. A small section of grass separated the two feats, which was where Sehun and (y/n) now stood. As observed before, across from the stream was the larger portion of the park, and from a distance, they could see the general public gathered around the park's central lake.

Though where they resided now, seated on the ground beside the waters, it was silent. Tranquil. Devoid of all life, aside from them.

"This is another tradition of Kyungsoo and I." He explained. "We found this place accidentally and thought it was pretty neat." Sehun glanced around, appreciating that their little haven was still left undisturbed.

"Why isn't it more popular?"

"We have no idea." He laughed. "It probably has something to do with the fact that people usually come here for a reason. To jog, get food, do activities by the lake." He glanced over to (y/n), watching him intently as he spoke. "There's really nothing else to do here aside from relaxing." She smiled, nodding at his words before looking back to the stream before them. It really was a serene moment. The waters were swift, following their destined currents unperturbed by any obstacles, yet were smooth and gentle. They traipsed down the rocks and pillars, tumbled down the natural slopes of the earth as it babbled along its bed.

"I'm fine with relaxing." She commented. Sehun grinned for a moment, touched by her words before she continued on. "As long as it's with you." At this, he felt a blush settling on his face, the warmth of it reaching the peaks of his ears as he digested her words. "I find it easy to settle when I'm with you." (y/n) picked at the blades of grass below her, pulling them from the earth before releasing them, letting the wind carry it into the brook, washing away the evidence of her absentminded destruction. "I don't feel that constant urge to pack up and run away. This is honestly probably the longest I've gone without relocating. I'd like to think that maybe it's because I finally have a person who'll remember me if I'm gone." She paused, letting her words hang in the atmosphere before glancing back to Sehun. "You'll remember me, won't you?"

He blinked at her question, allowing every memory of his to flash before him like a movie. From the very first moment he saw her, to the first time they hung out together. The first time she came to his apartment, critiquing his decorating and promising to liven up the place. When she nearly burnt his entire apartment down from baking brownies. When she came back from her trip, embracing Sehun as if she thought she'd never see him again. When she wept in his arms, entrusting him with her trauma and revealing her vulnerabilities to him. And now here, as she sat before him, brows curved in worry, awaiting his answer, as if she now doubted her words once she had spoken them.

"Without a doubt." He responded, a soft grin on his face as he turned his head to the side to get a better look at her. "Until my very last breath, you'll be in my thoughts always."

Just as you are in my heart.

And so they sat there, basking in both the calm of the stream, the warmth of the sun, and in one another's presence. He didn't know when it had happened, but somehow her hand had slipped into his own, nails grazing along his palm. Eventually, he intertwined their fingers together, keeping a loose grip on her as his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

Their hands remained together up until they returned to their apartments, regrettably releasing one another as she walked through her doors, thanking him for her day and promising to do it again. And that was enough for Sehun.

As she closed the door behind her, leaving Sehun standing in the halls alone with his rampant thoughts, he was left with a big, dopey grin. She enjoyed herself, she enjoyed spending time with him just as much as he enjoyed spending time with her. She wanted more of him. She wanted to do this again.

As he made his way into his own apartment, her words revolved around his head.

I find it easy to settle with you.

She wasn't leaving.

She wasn't leaving just yet.

She wasn't leaving just yet because of him.

He held her down like an anchor. Not a burdensome weight, restricting her from pursuing what she so desires, but a comforting weight, one which kept her tethered, prevented her from straying too far, from becoming lost in the infinite vastness of her ocean.

Without him, she'd drift off into who knows where, and without her, he'd sink into the unknown, never to be seen again.

They needed one another, that much was true. Evident in the way Sehun had instantly unveiled his phone, clicking onto his messages and already texting (y/n) again. And with the same earnest manner as he, she responded. As if the two couldn't handle even a moment away from each other, talking the entire night until exhaustion crept upon them, finally succumbing to their fate of slumber.

"Sehun, your phone is going off." (y/n) called from the living room. Sehun stood in the kitchen, waiting for their hot chocolates to warm before returning to her and their movie.

"Who's it from?" He asked.

"Junmyeon." At this, he actively groaned, causing her to laugh, the sound reaching him in the kitchen and calming his nerves.

"It's fine, you can ignore him."

The microwave eventually beeped, and Sehun navigated his way back to (y/n), curled under her blanket and reaching for the beverage he handed her. Outside, a heavy rain pelted against her window, clouds so dense it hid the entirety of the moon, encasing the world in an eternal darkness. Though inside, the two cuddled close to one another, buried under her blanket as they watched yet another random movie they managed to find. And once more, as per usual, it did not capture their attention, leaving them to entertain themselves through conversation.

"What's wrong with Junmyeon?" (y/n) asked, gently blowing at the hot liquid in her hands.

"What isn't wrong with him?" Sehun responded. "I know I've told you a lot about Junmyeon, but I haven't told you about him recently. Mostly because it just makes me sad to think about."

"You don't have to tell me if it hurts you, I understand." (y/n) reminded, though Sehun shook his head.

"It's just… He's been rather… Paranoid, as of recently." (y/n) leant her head on his shoulder, the weight calming Sehun and prompting him to rest his own against hers. "And that paranoia has really… affected him, and consequently, has affected the rest of us." She hummed at his words, taking a sip of her drink as she pondered.

"Well, he must have a reason for his behavior. Whether it be true fear which is affecting him, or nonsensical paranoia. Though to clarify, it may seem nonsensical to us, it could be near debilitating for him." She started. Sehun listened intently, eyes lazily trained on the TV, though only processing (y/n) and her stance. "Either way, you should look through everyone's eyes."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You see Junmyeon as being unnecessarily paranoid. He most likely sees himself as being precautionary, on defense mode towards whatever is bothering him." She sat up, turning in order to face him. "You should try to understand one another's perspective to a degree. You and the rest of your friends. Talk and come to a consensus of what should be done." He nodded, thinking back to how Yixing had told him how he felt regarding the whole situation. How both he and Minseok feared for Junmyeon. He hadn't heard much from Junmyeon, nor has he heard anything from Chanyeol yet. The two were at odds, though if talking could truly bring them back together, then why even hesitate to do so.

"What if talking doesn't work?"

"Then wait it out. Distance yourself for the time being. If you can't help the others, and you realize you can't, then just protect yourself and wait until Junmyeon has settled down." She reached a hand up, combing through his hair softly, a tender action which prompted him to lean into her touch. "Though try not to abandon him. Try not to abandon any of them. The last thing you guys need is an argument that'll cause a rift between you all."

Chanyeol.

He really needed to speak to Chanyeol. He couldn't leave Chanyeol as he was. He couldn't let Chanyeol barricade himself away with no one to accompany him during this lonesome time of his.

"Thank you," Sehun responded, twisting his head to press his lips against her palm.

Though their relationship was not necessarily defined, neither of the two really presenting a label to what they were, they were comfortable. They thrived in one another's presence, and seemingly blossomed. As if any and all restraints of friendship had been lifted, they flourished, basking in the slowly budding love sprouting before them.

The simplest of interactions soon meant everything in their world.

The way they'd be seated together, a narrow space settled between the two that seemed near cavernous, yet that looming dread of distance was quelled with the simple action of (y/n) linking her pinkie with his, cheeks warming under his fond gaze. Something as simple as this, or something more. Like the way she'd grasp his hand in hers, refusing to let him go lest he evaporate into thin air.

Hugging had become a near ritual between them. A game of who would let the other go first, who could hug tighter without strangling the other, who was the objective better hugger. All this competitiveness leading to what felt like hours of hugging and giggling, only calling a truce whenever the other would have to use the restroom. Though not every hug was inherently manic like this. Sehun found himself to be rather fond of (y/n)'s gentle back hugs, given to him as he cooked in the kitchen, fingers softly clenching the fabric of his shirt, grazing along his abdomen before tightening ever so slightly. As if a koala clinging to him everywhere he went.

Naturally, their hugging seemed to evolve into cuddling, bundled under heaps of blankets, nuzzling into each other until you couldn't discern which body part was whose. Warmth shrouded them, radiating in waves off their bodies, though they didn't mind the heat. They embraced it, wearing the other's warmth like a cherished coat.

Everything with (y/n) felt natural. Nothing ever felt foreign or strange. Nothing felt rushed. Nothing felt out of place. Like everything with her happened for a reason. Every moment unconscious though with purpose behind it. As if everything amounts to a finality the two will inevitably meet together.

And so he continued to litter kisses over her. From the tips of her fingers, to the peak of each of her knuckles, to the crook of her elbow, to the slope of her shoulder. When his lips had met the junction of her neck, she giggled, shrinking away from his ministrations, though not getting far, as he had her all but wrapped in his embrace– or as much of his embrace as he could offer.

Pausing from his affections, he briefly retracted his arm, grasping the cups of hot chocolate and placing the beverages on the coffee table, quickly returning to her.

With nothing obstructing the two, he had nestled closer, arms lazily draped around her, thumb softly stroking her hip as he gazed down longingly. Similarly, (y/n) reciprocated his stare, hands folded neatly between them, weary of where to put them. Yet as Sehun leant forward, pressing his lips to the corner of her own, she seemed to finally grasp the situation, hands sliding around the back of his neck and bringing him back to her.

As naturally as everything else occurred in their budding relationship, so did their first kiss. A fluttering sensation had erupted within the cavity of Sehun's chest upon first touching her lips, a light airiness which had him near drunk on his elation. He felt he could fade away from existence at that moment and not regret a thing, yet she anchored him to her, the warm pads of her fingers like fire radiating through his body. This searing warmth which translated through both her touch and her kiss.

The taste of her hot chocolate hit his tongue, a saccharine sensation which had his head spinning. Perhaps it was from how intoxicating her every single touch unto him was, or perhaps it was from the depleting oxygen draining from his lungs, though he couldn't care less. If he died, he'd die a happy man, melting in her embrace as she stole away his final breath.

His arms wound tighter around (y/n), dragging her closer and slotting their bodies together. Time seemed to slip by them, the sands passing through their fingers so easily, yet they remained where they were, keeping one another grounded through the adversity of their overwhelming affections. Though eventually, no matter how dearly he held her to him, no matter how much he pleaded with her, pressing his lips onto hers with this desperation he'd never known he acquired, she had to pull away.

Separating from him with a sharp inhale, she sat there for a brief moment, observing Sehun before her. His eyes were still shut, breaths slow and steady, as if they hadn't just kissed for who knows how long. Dazed, he slowly leaned back towards (y/n), gravitating back to her lips, though before he could reach them, she pressed a hand on his chest, giggles snapping him free of his delirium. Fluttering his eyes open, he watched as (y/n) softly laughed, hand still resting on his chest.

Her fingers gently stroked the material of his shirt, her eyes trained on her actions as to not meet Sehun's gaze. She was flustered, the weight of the plight at hand now settling. It was rather evident how nervous she was, silently biting down on her lip, trying to pick apart the situation and figure out what was to happen next.

He reached a hand up to her jaw, pressing his thumb beneath her mouth and freeing her lip from the entrapment of her teeth. At this, (y/n) finally met his gaze, eyes glassy as they darted to every feature of Sehun's face. Yet his eyes remained solely on hers, watching the flurry of emotions swirl within their depths. How genuine she was in everything she did, and now that devotion to living her life translated towards him. As if he were now as big a part of her life as anything else in her world. And the thought alone brought a smile to Sehun, leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips once again. And then again. And again. Until she was squirming beneath him, laughs filling the air whilst he tickled her with his barrage of kisses, covering every inch of her face with his unabashed love.

"Sehun, stop!" She let out between her giggles, weakly shoving against him, though he continued nevertheless. Soon enough, his smile prevented him from continuing, merely pressing his face against hers for a final time with a laugh bubbling out of him. The pleasant sound reached her ears, causing her to instead wrap her arms around Sehun, dragging him close to her into a hug.

A silence settled between the two, Sehun softly rubbing his hands on her back, resting his cheek on her head. Comfort. That same peace she integrated into every aspect of her life now all but seeping into his bones, his embrace growing weak as he slowly succumbed to the tranquility of the moment, sinking deeper and deeper into this state. As if blocking out every single thing outside the constraints of these walls. As if he, Aero, master of winds, savior to hundreds, hadn't a thing to worry about, because as long as he was with (y/n), he'd be safe. He'd be okay.

"Sehun?" Her voice was low, this gentle lull which reached his ears and sang to his heart, which seemed to beat erratically in the calm of the moment, manic from the woman pressed against it. Sehun hummed, too weak to respond with anything other than the subtle noise. She remained quiet. Her hand slid from behind him, resting at the center of his chest, fingers weakly curling into his shirt. "Do you… like me?"

"I adore you." He responded in a heartbeat. He chuckled to himself, as if having been asked the most ridiculous of questions. The most obvious fact to be present in the world. As if she asked him if the sky were blue, if the ocean were wet, if people breathed air. Yet he patiently answered her, reassuring her of his feelings which seemed to all but bloom as the seconds passed. This comforting delight coiling around his being, the love he held for her rooting itself deep within him, grounded in permanence.

She buried her face into his neck, hoping to conceal the rather flustered expression now etched onto her. In hopes of hiding the obvious effect he had on her, as if he wasn't completely and entirely in tune with her everything. But he let her do as she so desired, pretending that he couldn't feel that devout fondness in her every little touch.

"Stay with me…" She silently pled, voice muffled in his shirt though still loud enough for him to just barely hear the anticipation laced in her tone. The subtle trepidation as she whispered out her thoughts, hoping so dearly he wouldn't reject her, even if he had made it evident that he would never deny her of anything.

"Always." He answered, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her temple. A reassurance that he truly was there, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

Sehun awoke the next morning, a haze of grogginess blanketing him as he pried his eyes open, only to shut them immediately upon confronting the sun's radiance filling the room. Grumbling, he shifted in the sheets, arms tightening around (y/n) and tugging her closer against him.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the floral aroma fondly. It surrounded him, emanating from not only her, but also her pillows, her blankets, the surrounding air. An intoxicating scent, dizzying almost as it reminded him of where he was. Of how he had wound up falling asleep beside his beloved (y/n).

How she held onto him desperately, whining for him to not leave the apartment. To instead stay over, insisting they should have a "slumber party." And when he finally agreed, she continued with her urgent pursuit, continuing to push him until he finally agreed to share the bed with her. Though it had been a rather complicated ordeal, the two being too excited beside one another to properly sleep before exhaustion finally struck them both hours later, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

Her expression was peaceful, muscles lax as she slept away. Her face was pressed into the pillow beneath her, mouth slightly ajar as heavy breaths expelled from her. Sehun stroked her head, taming the tufts of hair which seemed to aim in every which way, smiling as she mumbled incoherently in her sleep.

Much like the first time he had slept over, there was this indisputable serenity lingering in the atmosphere, as if time itself had stopped for them. A bird sang lowly outside, chirping at the new day at its disposal. Though now this time, instead of lying beside her on the couch, he had (y/n) in his arms, soundly sleeping against him.

The calm of the moment suddenly shattered as (y/n)'s eyes shot open, her body jolting upright in a near panicked frenzy, only calming as Sehun sat up with her, drawing her close once more.

"(y/n)?" He spoke, voice soft as it reached her ears. He pressed gentle kisses to the side of her temple, feeling the tension making up her form dissolve once more. "It's okay, I'm here."

"I… Had a nightmare." She quickly explained, eyes trained on her lap as she shifted her body towards him. He waited for her to look up at him, seeing the sheer panic in her gaze once she finally did. This unadulterated fear riddled in her pupils, as if her nightmare was still very alive in the moment.

"You're okay now. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

The rest of their morning was spent holding one another, Sehun coaxing out her usual cheery persona as the sun continued to rise. It had seemed she had pushed aside that nightmare from before, joking around with him as they did so often. That smile he had grown so accustomed to shining as brilliantly as ever.

Eventually, they unraveled themselves from the bed, about to go on with their day until (y/n) stopped Sehun at her door.

"I have to leave." She spoke quietly, softly grasping the bottom of his shirt. "My dad is sick, so I offered to take care of him this weekend."

"Okay," He answered, reaching a hand up to rest on the back of her neck. "I'll be here when you get back."

Her eyes darted back and forth between his own, a worry in them as if she were still afraid. Like that nightmare still plagued her mind. But she nodded nevertheless, tearing her gaze away and looking down at the floor.

"I'll be heading out today. Probably in a few minutes."

"I'll help you pack."

"I actually have everything already." She laughed nervously, leaving his side to go to the closet by her front door, pulling it open and revealing a filled duffle bag. Sehun blinked in wonderment, but nodded at the sight anyways.

"I'll help you take it down, then." Grasping the straps, he tossed the bag over his shoulder, following her down to the first floor. All the while, his thoughts continued to gnaw away at his head.

Why does she have a bag packed away? Like she's ready to just get up and leave at a moment's notice? It's the same bag as before, when she went to babysit for her sister. Maybe she really does just have to leave town often. Having a ready bag isn't too much of a strange occurrence. He has his own ready bag, though that's because of his double life as Aero. (y/n) is just rather active. Like he always says, she's a nomad. There's nothing wrong with that.

Like deja vu, he leant down at her window after tossing her bag in the trunk, smiling as she smiled back at him.

"Stay safe." She pouted, eyebrows knitted together in worry. Sehun pressed his lips against hers, a quick goodbye kiss on his part.

"I should be the one telling you to stay safe." His thumb pinched gently at her chin. "Don't get sick, okay?"

"I won't." She laughed. Though her joy subsided rather quickly, back to that solemn expression she's had all morning. "I'll text you. Every second I'm gone. And you better respond every time."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

And with that, she departed, leaving Sehun in the parking lot, thoughts incessant as he began connecting things. Things which just don't make sense. He shook his head, silently cursing Junmyeon for instilling his maddening paranoia into Sehun. Nothing was wrong. He didn't need to worry.

Sehun collapsed on his knees, breath heaving as the wind got knocked out of him. He was exhausted, body sore from the countless hits he's taken so far. His vision, though already limited due to his mask, felt even more obstructed as the darkness of unconsciousness seeped into his peripheral. But he continued to fight back, wearily standing on his feet before immediately getting collided into again, falling on his back with a loud huff.

"Status report." Junmyeon demanded through Sehun's ear.

"I'm not cut out for this." Sehun sighed, letting his head rest on the grass beneath him.

The sky was dark, the occasional star lighting the expanse of night through the dense haze of light pollution emanating from the city. Though what truly did seem to penetrate that fog was the moon, smiling down at him once more. At his misery.

The alarm blare which shocked him from his sleep was unexpected at the least, as it usually is, though more so this time around because of how late it had rung, Sehun being forced to run out of his apartment building at 3 in the morning.

Instead of there being just one location, they were given three: one at city hall, one in the park, and one at a shopping plaza. Junmyeon had rapidly spat out orders as the group scrambled about, none of them knowing who they were going up against, merely following Junmyeon's words as he assigned each of them a location.

And regrettably, Sehun got the park, where the notorious, and at this moment rather vexing, Shinobi resided.

Shinobi. The ability to phase through solid objects. Though on a more basic scale, he was able to completely rearrange his molecules, allowing them to weave through the particles of solid matter. As such, he was near impossible to hit, as he'd merely shift through the attempt and fight back.

What Sehun found himself struggling with, however, was the speed which came with his training.

As indicated by his name, Shinobi was one of many in a creed of ninjas. Agile, swift, resourceful. Yet he seemed to forego the stealth aspect, choosing to fight them in the open at any chance. And much like Yixing, the man was experienced when it came down to fighting, much more than Sehun at least.

Grumbling, the hero sat up, pushing his body up with his shaking arms. He saw the blur of darkness racing towards him once more, rapid steps lightly padding against the grass as he hurdled towards Sehun. Though in a moment's notice, Sehun managed to shoot a blast of wind from his hands, sending Shinobi flying across the field, allowing Sehun some time to recuperate.

"Aero, keep him busy until we've dealt with these guys."

The other guys in question were two more villains of theirs.

Spartan. Super strength, increased endurance, enhanced durability. He was a Goliath among men, towering over the lot with a condescending snarl. His body was lined with a dense layer of muscle, one hit of his being enough to completely eradicate any living, breathing human. His only intent in life, the only reason he seemed to do what he did, was for honor.

To defeat EXO. To be the strongest warrior in the land.

They didn't know his origin.

Ginnung. Portal manipulation. They were a person dressed in a tattered tunic with an equally dilapidated cloak around them. Though hidden now with layers of bandages wrapped all along their arms, an intricate system of woven tattoos decorated their body. Dark blue portraits of Celtic lore, Borre style depictions of Viking beasts, Norse runes etched into their skin. Though unlike the Vikings they supposedly correlate to, Ginnung rarely if ever fought. They merely used their portal manipulation to their advantage, depending on keeping distance between them and EXO.

"Alright." Sehun huffed as he stood up again, shaking off the damage dealt by Shinobi and preparing himself for another, inevitable attack. Though when he looked to where he had sent the ninja flying, he was gone. Retreating back into the shadows to hide from Sehun's sights.

Frustratedly looking about, Sehun groaned to himself, annoyance bubbling in him as he realized Shinobi really did just disappear. Though he knew he still lurked close by, waiting for his opportunity to once more strike at the hero.

Sehun's fingers twitched by his side, manipulating the low currents of wind traversing through the park. There were many interruptions, primarily from the winds hitting trees, circling the trunks to continue on their path. Though there was one obstruction, one which seemingly moved about in the dark, interrupting multiple breezes in their path.

Shinobi.

Whirling around, Sehun blasted more wind in that direction, repelling Shinobi from attacking him.

"What the fuck!" A black silhouette shouted, spiraling back in the air before colliding into the ground, tumbling through the grasses before coming to a stop. Though that voice, shouting at Sehun as it got hit, was one Sehun knew far too well.

"Chanyeol?" He called out, about to run forward to him, though being halted as a figure rammed into him, knocking him back to the ground. Glaring up, Sehun watched as Shinobi stood over him. A masked figure in black clothing, with not a single sliver of skin being revealed to him. He was mysterious, not knowing his purpose for fighting them, though whenever he came about, they could see his utter determination. This fiery will to take them down no matter what. No matter the adversity. Fighting until he was down to his final breath, sitting there as if ready to die at the hands of his enemy, yet Junmyeon would let him run off.

In a way, that mercy probably angered Shinobi most, as he'd come back stronger, even more determined for EXO's downfall at his hands.

Shinobi pressed his shoe against Sehun's wrist, stepping over his body and doing the same to the other until he was properly pinned down, immobilized beneath the villain. He then crouched, slow, meticulous movements as he knelt before Sehun, glowering down at him with this disdainful air to him. Atop his black attire was a blue devil mask, leering at Sehun with its domineering facade, bearing its sharp array of teeth as if ready to consume Sehun like he were nothing but prey. His hands wrapped around the column of Sehun's neck, beginning to press down on, interrupting his airway. Though instead of panicking, Sehun took a deep breath, inhaling until his chest was puffed up with his surplus of air, and then exhaled it all. The force of his breaths sent Shinobi flying back once more, crashing into the ground unceremoniously as Sehun leapt to his feet.

He pulled out his bow and arrow, retracting the string until it tugged with tension, and kept it aimed at Shinobi, lying helplessly on the ground. Soon enough, clumsy thumps grew louder and louder behind him until the familiar giant frame of Chanyeol came into Sehun's peripheral.

"Sorry for blowing you away." Sehun muttered, eyes still focused on the ninja lying on the ground, staring at Sehun's arrow point, precariously aimed at him, ready to shoot at his smallest movement.

"No worries." Chanyeol spoke.

A silence settled upon the two before Sehun continued.

"I'm glad to have you back."

He felt Chanyeol's eyes quickly avert to him, though he soon returned to the fallen villain, seemingly scheming within their radar.

"I don't have the heart to abandon my family."

Suddenly, Shinobi spun up, landing on his knees as he unveiled a set of knives from behind him. Mere seconds later, he sent his blades flying right towards them, the force of his throw cutting through the wind so sharply that Sehun had even felt its blades, even as he ducked and evaded it. And seconds after, Sehun released his bow, watching as its point pierced into Shinobi's shoulder. He automatically pulled another from his quiver, loading his bow and shooting another, though now in Shinobi's thigh, preventing him from running.

Sehun quickly glanced to Chanyeol, sighing in relief as he saw he was also unscathed. Though Chanyeol didn't acknowledge him, instead facing behind them in a frozen stupor. Following his gaze, Sehun stood stiffly alongside his friend, his blood running cold as he saw where both of Shinobi's blades had actually landed.

Right into Baekhyun's torso.

Though masked, the two could see Baekhyun's terror, all consuming as he stood there, motionless with fear. His head dropped shakily, arms trembling as he attempted to raise them towards the knives jutting from his body, though they could merely hover in terror over the weapons sunken into him. Crimson splotches began blooming from the wounds, soaking into his once pristine white cloak.

Chanyeol tentatively took a step forward, body shaking just as much as Baekhyun's.

Before he could say anything in regards to his friend standing there, Baekhyun fell onto his knees, a loud thud following his movements. In a blink, Chanyeol dove forward, grasping Baekhyun's shoulders and preventing him from falling on his stomach and sinking the knives deeper in their afflictions.

"Emergency, park, Jongin, Yixing, urgent." Sehun sputtered out incoherently, stumbling over to the two collapsed on the ground.

Chanyeol's breathing was labored, heaving as he desperately held Baekhyun to him. From beneath the mask, Sehun could hear Baekhyun's cries, the usual cheery boy now crumbling before the two as this dread began seeping into his mind.

Distantly, Baekhyun could feel the pain dredging into his mind, a subtle stinging erupting from where the metal points had pierced through his skin. The adrenaline of battle was slowly but surely waning, and soon he'd be able to feel it all. Feel the cruel sharpness of metal extracting his life force away. His body felt as cold as the blades within him, though he sweat as if the night were sweltering.

Chanyeol muttered quietly to him, stroking back Baekhyun's white hair.

"Stay with us, stay with us," He whispered. "Yixing will be here soon, you're okay, just please stay."

"I'm scared." Baekhyun responded, voice breaking as he spoke.

"Me too."

Seconds later, Yixing came running to them, Jongin following right behind him. Sehun moved out of the way, allowing the healer to crouch before Baekhyun and survey the situation.

His hands clasped the handles of the knives, gripping them tightly as he softly spoke, keeping his composure during such a dire situation.

"I'm going to remove these now, okay?" He asked. Baekhyun hesitated, already feeling where Yixing had shifted the blades, but nodded nevertheless, wearily grabbing Chanyeol's bicep and bracing himself for the worst. Yixing slowly pulled the knives out, coaxing an agonized holler from Baekhyun, squirming as Chanyeol held him down. "Jongin, Sehun, apply pressure to his wound."

They made quick work following the doctor's instructions, pressing down on the spots just as Yixing had fully unsheathed the knives from their placement within Baekhyun. Yixing soon placed his hands over theirs, and between them all, the comforting violet haze of Yixing's powers resonated from Baekhyun's body, lit up like a beacon as he made quick work of both closing the internal ruptures and external wounds. Baekhyun's chest rapidly rose and fell, fingers digging into Chanyeol's arm as the whole ordeal took place. Though soon enough, the pain ebbed away, the wave of solace from Yixing's touch flooding his body, a surge of energy causing him to confidently sit up. He released a slight hiss at the movement, wincing as he grasped at his body where he was struck, though only feeling closed skin beneath his shirt.

"You're not perfect. I'll continue treatment when we get back to the base." He explained, rising to his feet. "Meanwhile, I have to return to city hall. Minseok and Junmyeon are dealing with Spartan on their own right now."

"We'll probably head over, too." Chanyeol added, helping Baekhyun to his feet. "We're about done with weakening Shinobi." He pointed to the spot where the ninja once resided, though once again, it was now empty. Everyone stood there silently, staring at the barren field. "Where'd he go?"

"I… don't know." Sehun glanced around the area, only seeing darkness where the lampposts did not shed their light. "I shot him twice."

"You shot Shinobi…" Jongin noted, voice monotonous as he spoke. "... With solid arrows."

"Well, yeah, what else would I–" Sehun cut himself off, smacking his hand over his mask in frustration. "He absorbed the blows and ran off."

"He knew he couldn't take all three of us down." Baekhyun elaborated. "That's why he threw knives at me. He saw me approaching to help you guys out."

Yixing groaned, shaking his head in dismay.

"I'm going back to Spartan with Jongin, you guys figure this out." With a final wave to the three, Jongin teleported away, Yixing in tow with him.

"Let's go to Ginnung." Baekhyun suggested, still leaning on Chanyeol as he steadied himself on his feet. "It's better we take care of one guy instead of sitting here waiting for Shinobi to return."

They nodded before taking off, running through the pathways of the park. Sehun continued to whip his head about, though everything beyond the walkway was shrouded in darkness; the perfect environment for Shinobi. His instincts were telling him that the ninja lurked within those shadows, every single movement seeming to trigger some innate response in him. It was getting to his head, the fear of what lied ahead taunting him.

In the distance, he could see the entry to the park, the emptied streets of the city laying just meters away from him. His escape from this hellscape of a park. Once a paradise to him, a utopian garden of Eden as he recalled his memories here with (y/n), though now was haunted by a dark shadow, and within it the demon whose sole purpose was to invite chaos into his being. His adrenaline kicked in, his legs beating against the pavement near violently as he dashed to the exit. Chanyeol and Baekhyun ran close behind him, though the sounds of their sprinting seemed to gradually lessen as Sehun increased the distance between them.

In an ironic cruelty of fate, before he could break free from the void of darkness which had surrounded him before, he felt the familiar sensation of being collided into, toppling to the ground with a groan. His back cried out in agony, the man rolling to his side and grasping the soreness which now wrapped across his entire body. He blinked his eyes open, looking up to see Shinobi, crouched in the same position he used to throw Sehun off his route. He slowly rose up to his full height, back turned to him with his shoulders cockily rolled back, head in the direction of where Chanyeol and Baekhyun had all but skidded to a stop from his sudden appearance.

All it took was a single step from Shinobi for Chanyeol to suddenly shoot a ball of fire at him, sending the villain back against the ground, as if avenging Sehun for what had just happened to him.

"Come on, let's go!" Baekhyun urged, waving Sehun over to where they now stood just beyond the entry of the park, taking advantage of the slightly disoriented Shinobi patting away the remnants of fire on his suit. Though he remained unscathed, not burnt in the slightest.

"No." Sehun shook his head, groaning as he climbed back onto his feet. "I'm finishing this now."

Sehun tugged off the bow and quiver which clung to his body, tossing the weaponry aside, as it was redundant in this situation. Shinobi stood as well, intimidatingly staring down Sehun through the shroud of ambiguity offered by their masks. Suddenly, Chanyeol and Baekhyun seemed to fade from view, Sehun's sights trained on the shadowed figure skulking at the border of darkness, just out of light's range, though still able to be seen through the inky black he had delved into.

Sehun's fists clenched, his breath heavy as the anticipation of the moment rose, a tension settling in his body. The adrenaline broiling within him wanted him to run forth into battle, attack Shinobi right then and there with no second thoughts. Yet the reasoning in him held him back, waiting for the other to make the first move. To slice through the apprehension of the atmosphere, setting the scene for their inevitable fight.

That inevitability hung over Sehun, dangling precariously, just as the sword of Damocles. It instilled a fear in him, a fear which was present throughout his many hero escapades, keeping him vigilant and cautious. Though it was not debilitating, as he stood there, confident and prepared for whatever Shinobi had prepared. And as that fact of this fight being one which couldn't be avoided settled in his head, so did the fact that he truly was capable of defeating him.

Wind manipulation was perceived as a docile ability, one which couldn't necessarily harm others. In most cases, Sehun used it as a defense mechanism, warding off assailants from getting close to him or to merely throw them off course. His arrows were the one thing which had made him a force to be reckoned with, a hero capable of striking terror in the hearts of those who dare oppose him.

Though now here he stood, bare handed, the familiar weight of his quiver now absent, leaving his body light and airy.

An inkling in the back of his head, a tiny voice which seemed to whisper secrets into his ear, conspired within him. Thoughts which left him both curious and self assured, even as Shinobi finally kicked forward, dashing towards him, knowing Sehun could throw as many punches as he so desired, but he'd merely phase through them all.

Sehun steadied his stance, firmly planting his feet to the ground as he raised his fist in the air. Just as Shinobi had gotten close to him, ready to pounce on the hero and take him down, Sehun descended his clenched hand down, aiming right towards Shinobi's face.

Just as the ninja had prepared to pass through the attack, Sehun's fist stopped midair, an abrupt halt that momentarily confused Shinobi until a split second later, when a gust of wind shot forth from his hand, barreling into Shinobi and throwing him back and onto the ground.

Sehun stood there for a moment, waiting, thoughts frenzied on whether his theories proved correct.

Shinobi had stumbled back to his feet, hand briefly clasped over his face, right where the wind had hit him, instead of where his head had knocked into the hard ground.

Sehun had successfully delivered a punch to him.

Confidently, Sehun strode forward as Shinobi was attempting to regain his composure. A barrage of hits rained down upon him, Sehun swinging his arms about as the force of his winds cracked down on Shinobi. Each gust was focused, packing more impact with each attack than when Sehun would merely blow people away. These had purpose, these had focus– these proved that Sehun's wind could bring with it more than just defense.

He stopped, watching as Shinobi staggered back, arms raised over his head, hoping to block the hits being dealt unto him. His sleeves had torn at some point, revealing slivers of his arms, dark blooms of black and purple seeping into his skin already. He stood shakily, arms still braced over his head. His legs were spread, attempting to keep him standing, though wavering nevertheless.

Somewhere deep inside Sehun, he felt some pity for him. The man beneath that facade, beneath that daunting, terror-filled mask with its permanent snarl. The man who seemingly feared Sehun where he stood– feared EXO.

Though that pity dissipated once more as he heard the anguished cries of his members through his earpiece, snapping him from his daze and reminding him of where he stood, what he was doing, and who was before him.

With a whole new surge of fury boiling within him, Sehun took a step back, bracing himself for a moment more before kicking off the ground, a gust of wind further propelling him up. As he dropped towards Shinobi's figure, he bent his legs in.

He kicked out one leg, followed by the next, and with each kick, blasts of winds shot forth from him, slamming right into the unsuspecting Shinobi.

He fell back into the ground with a thud, lying there limply as Sehun cushioned his own fall, landing on his feet gently. Sehun approached the man, crouching at his level and wearily checking his vitals.

"He's alive." He stated, turning to where Chanyeol and Baekhyun stared with, what he could only assume was, unadulterated intrigue.

"Dude, that was cool." Baekhyun voiced his thoughts aloud, already making his way over to Shinobi. "You guys go ahead to the others, I'll call the force to come and detain Shinobi."

"Okay." Chanyeol nodded. He squeezed Baekhyun's shoulder softly. "Stay safe, alright?"

"Safe is my middle name." He nudged Chanyeol, walking towards Shinobi's unconscious body with a confident stride.

"You literally got stabbed not even half an hour ago."

Baekhyun shushed them, waving them off to go into battle with the others, choosing to ignore their remarks as they proceeded to run into the city.

"I'll take Ginnung, you take Spartan." Sehun instructed, to which Chanyeol nodded before running off to city hall.

Sehun took off in the air, projecting himself up with a boost of wind beneath him. He reached the peak of his jump, just barely grazing the misty clouds drifting above him.

The moon seemed so much larger at this point, though still was so tragically small from its distance. The crisp night air blew against his face, cooling his skin from wherever opening it could reach. He thought about returning home, shedding himself of his attire, showering off the grime and sweat of battle, and then burrowing into his bed once more to sleep until he was to awaken for work in a few hours.

Home.

He never once thought he could truly call any place home. No matter how long he stayed where he was, he always felt like an intruder. Surrounded by normal humans, going about their day to day, living their lives as anyone should. They naturally fit into these comfortable dynamics, as if having been born with a purpose. To be artists, to be explorers, to be workers.

Sehun had never felt that way.

Ostracized by everyone. Never finding the key to being like the others. As if he were cursed to forever be a reject for as long as he had these abilities in his grasp. While everyone seemed to gravitate and adjust to their lives, Sehun had to find his own route. He had to force himself into normalcy.

Aero offered him an escape from it all. To be his true self. Something that only his group could ever acknowledge appreciatively. The public worshipped them, almost to a terrifying degree, as if they were gods among men. Though he knew they alienated him just as they always have.

What's the difference between being rejected from society as a freak and being separated from society as a god?

No matter where he stood, whether it be as lowly as dirt or ascended upon a pedestal, he was still and always would be different.

And yet there stood (y/n).

She was just as clueless as the others, only knowing him as a journalist, yet she accepted him so wholeheartedly. As if he truly has fit into that mold people so easily fell into. He was a journalist, though she also saw him as a neighbor. A friend. A lover. Someone she could rely on, trust with her entire being. She cared for him as she could anyone else, though she chose to share her heart with solely him.

And the thought seemed to comfort him. The thought that he could tell her everything with the certainty that she'd still love him just the same. That he could tell her about his childhood, his powers, his friends, his identity. He could open himself to her, rely on (y/n) just as she relied on him.

Though he refrained, a subtle fear lingering in his heart. That just as she had the agency to choose him, she also had the choice of leaving him. Her prerogative was as powerful an ability as any of their superpowers, and for that reason, he chose to hide his abilities, in hopes that she'd also hide her own ability of decision. Because he couldn't lose her. He just couldn't.

Home.

Home wasn't his apartment; it was the decorations (y/n) put up herself. The blanket she bought him because she'd get cold on his couch. The slippers she'd always forget about at his doorstep as she padded back and forth between their respective domiciles.

Home was (y/n).

And returning to his apartment devoid of her waiting for him was not ideal. Though even with the distance between them, she still felt right beside him, her reassuring touch settling his nerves as he began plummeting back to the ground.

She had texted him so often during the past day, keeping her promise of staying in contact. Even to the point where she was battling her own exhaustion, desperately trying to stay awake for him, to keep him company. He assured her she could sleep, but she had refused, near adamant to remain conscious. She was manic in her behavior, as if fearful of shutting her eyes and sleeping. Though finally, she succumbed to the slumber which weighed down her lids, her texts stopping at around midnight. She was never one for the night owl life, and so Sehun appreciated her actions, no matter how strange they were.

He cushioned his fall as he reached the ground, only to hop up once more.

Though he couldn't help but silently question her. Why did she want to stay awake this time around? Whenever (y/n) felt even the slightest bit tired, she would abandon whatever she was doing and go to bed. Perhaps it truly was to talk to him longer. They only just revealed their feelings for one another the day prior, so perhaps she actually didn't want to separate from him. It was a pleasant thought, one which warmed his heart, though also one that did not sate his curios at all. Deep down, in the part of his mind he'd prefer to ignore, he knew she was hiding something from him. What it was, he didn't know. Nor did he find it in himself to truly care.

As arrogant as it sounded, Sehun was happy. He found some joy in his bleak, ever stressful life. A spark in the darkness of his world, rekindling a devotion to living that Sehun hadn't thought ever existed in him. She breathed life into him in everything she did. He'd be damned if he were to ever let her go.

And so he pushed aside his thoughts, choosing to remain in blissful ignorance for as long as he was allowed.

The Ginnung battle was close by, as Sehun could hear the distant commotion gradually increasing in volume, growing nearer and nearer to the location of the fight– a shopping centre with stores lined on either side of a dense road. At this time of night, thankfully, nobody was there. They wouldn't have to worry about Ginnung getting to any innocent civilians.

Though Ginnung primarily used their portals as defense mechanisms, where one thing enters one portal and exits from another, sometimes they could cut off this transportation entirely, leaving everything and everyone trapped in this unknown dimension with no means of escape.

EXO's first priority was to evacuate the immediate location wherever Ginnung appeared.

Sehun landed on the top of one of the many shops, peering down at the battle at hand. Ginnung stood at the center of it all, hands flying about to and fro as portals spawned in every direction around them. Kyungsoo continuously flung boulders at the villain, only for each one to be absorbed into one of the glowing dimensional rifts, sprouting out on the other side of Ginnung. Jongdae zapped furiously at every portal, seemingly able to disintegrate each one with his lightning. Though it was redundant, a hydra like scenario where one is evaporated and two more sprout forth in its place.

Sehun reached behind him, fishing for one of his arrows though coming up empty handed. Startled, he looked over his shoulder, only to realize he had abandoned his bow and arrows at the park.

"Shit." He muttered, crouching behind the store sign near him for cover as he considered his options. Would his wind powers be sufficient enough in this battle? He could definitely knock them over if he tried, maybe disorient them from such a blow. Close combat was out of the question. He'd never be able to make it close enough to land a wind punch on them. It'd be best if he were to manage sneaking behind the portal manipulator, catch them off guard and give Jongdae and Kyungsoo the opportunity to strike, but before he could charge into his scheme, a portal suddenly spawned right before him.

Its borders glowed a brilliant red, shimmering and shifting in spastic motions. At its center was a dark void; an abysmal doorway to an endless dimension of nothing. The obsidian hellscape seemed to absorb everything in its grasp, so terribly devoid of all life and light. It was almost one dimensional, though Sehun knew that within the portal was a ceaseless depth, all consuming in its existence. He stared in fear at the face of death as it stared back at him, stoic in its gaze, uncaring of what were to ever happen to Sehun had he been some ways closer to it, able to be sucked into its mortal embrace.

A moment later, Sehun was sent hurtling backwards, one of Kyungsoo's near monoliths catapulting forth from the portal and all but ramming into Sehun's abdomen. His back slammed against the store's sign, sending the two in an inevitable downwards descent to the street below.

He collided with the unforgivingly rough surface, breath revoked from his lungs as the hefty rock weighed down upon his body. Sehun heaved, breathing labored as he shoved the stone off him, attempting to have a moment to himself to recover. Though he should've known better.

The sensation of falling came to him faster than he could process, a portal spawning beneath Sehun and spiraling him briefly through Ginnung's cold, barren void. The falling only stopped as he landed once more on the ground, groaning in agony at the second merciless impact.

"Aero!" Jongdae shouted, rushing to the boy and dragging him away from the battle. "Jongin, we need backup, Ginnung is more than we can handle at the moment."

Jongdae catered to Sehun, allowing him time to recuperate from the attacks. His head pounded, eyes blurred from the sharp ebbs of pain stabbing at him relentlessly. It was a task in and of itself to breathe, as if that boulder that had initially struck him still pressed down on his chest. His body cried for reprieve, though he knew he'd have to endure until after the fact.

Kyungsoo continued to rain a barrage of earth unto Ginnung, though it was all seemingly fruitless. That is until Sehun realized what he was really doing.

He was distracting them.

Charging forth from down the street was Jongin, wielding his signature batons in either hand as he came rushing towards the unsuspecting Ginnung. Supposedly unsuspecting.

Before he could get anywhere near hitting them, however, Ginnung whirled around, shooting out their hand in Jongin's direction. He hadn't any time to even attempt stopping as a portal suddenly spawned right in front of him, causing him to run directly into its all encompassing embrace before it dissipated from the air, leaving not even a trace of its existence behind.

Sehun slowly looked around, waiting to see where Jongin would appear next, where Ginnung would place their next portal. Though they remained where they stood, attention turned back to Kyungsoo whose attacks had gradually weakened as he too realized the gravity of the situation.

Jongin wasn't coming back.

It suddenly grew quiet between them all. This heavy, thick silence which seemed to suffocate Sehun as he began looking about more frantically, though the street remained empty, Ginnung closing his portals one by one until there was nothing left. Ginnung paused as they realized the heroes had stopped their assault, merely standing there, crumbling before the villain's eyes. Ginnung stared blankly at the group through their helmet, quietly observing them and their reactions, watching as they slowly deteriorated with their overflowing misery. It was an almost somber moment, the group absolutely grief stricken by, essentially, the death of their friend.

And much like before, as Sehun looked down to Shinobi, he realized how heartless these people were. These people who strived to destroy them and Exodus. These people that EXO risked their lives to fight against. These monsters that roamed the earth freely.

There was a sinister aura radiating off of Ginnung in waves, their head twisting in intrigue as they watched Kyungsoo collapse to his knees, eyes trained on where Jongin had last been. The villain merely observed, a careful eye discerning the scene before them, entranced by the heroes' anguish, attention completely focused on the despair of EXO.

It was such an abrupt happening. Sehun hadn't even time to blink before Jongin had left the face of the earth. Gone. His heart seized in on itself, thumping erratically against him as he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the cry of his muscles to return to the ground. His stance wavered, though his glare remained steadily on Ginnung, still preoccupied as they stepped closer to Kyungsoo crying on the ground.

With all of his might, with every ounce of strength remaining in his drained body, Sehun extended his arms out, beginning to force out a surge of wind right at Ginnung. It was near deafening as it slammed into them, hurling them against the brick wall of a shop with a violent thwack.

They slid down until they collapsed onto the floor, coughing from the sheer might of the collision. Ginnung looked up as Sehun began staggering towards them, frantically attempting to back away from him, though was cornered against the solid storefront behind them.

They watched Sehun carefully, their body language more frightened than it had ever been before. As if that cocky demeanor moments prior, that sickening captivation they had with Kyungsoo's grief, had all but washed away, leaving behind a person who now faced the man responsible for their inevitable death– their undertaker. Sehun thought back to Shinobi and how he had begun cowering all of a sudden, a random, abrupt shift from his initial haughty mannerisms.

The pain of Jongin's absence poked at Sehun's heart, reminding him of who lied at his feet. Whether it be Shinobi or Ginnung, they were villains. Villains who tried to kill not only the citizens, but his family. Villains who didn't deserve any form of mercy.

As Sehun raised his hand once more, ready to deal one last hit to the pathetic excuse of a human below him, Jongdae's gasp broke through the haze of anger obscuring Sehun's thoughts, causing him to turn around and check on his elder.

Though as he turned, he was met by the presence of Jongin, standing there in confusion, looking about his surroundings in shock.

Jongin was back. He was alive. He was right there.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Sehun took a step forward, about to reunite with his friend while briefly abandoning Ginnung. Until a portal spawned right in front of him, his nose barely grazing the frigidity of the unknown dimension Ginnung used as a bridge between portals. The same dimension he had attempted to trap Jongin in. Furious, Sehun spun around, arm already pulled back and swinging down at the villain who tried to not only kill Jongin, but now even himself.

Though just before Sehun's wind punch landed on them, a split second before he had successfully knocked out Ginnung, he saw it.

A glowing green hue, peering up at him through the slit of Ginnung's helmet.

Though as his winds had smacked into the side of their head, it faded away, their eyes closing as they lost consciousness.

The portal faded away as Ginnung fell on his side. A peace settled in the air for a moment, though apprehension still plagued Sehun.

Those green eyes. That same green which pierced his soul in the same manner as Necromancer. As if it were the same gaze he was encountering, though from two different people.

Sehun was about to crouch down, rip off the helmet of Ginnung, and check for himself whether their eyes truly were green. If it was just a coincidence for the same green gaze to be directed at him, watching him, probing his every move. They felt inescapable, even as Ginnung remained the way they were. It felt like that green stare still remained on Sehun, tearing him apart, dissecting his every action. Trapping him in a dark, unforgiving forest of fear and trepidation, leaving him to die from his own insanity until his last and final thought is just that– that encompassing green all around him.

Before Sehun could reach a hand to Ginnung's helmet, the earth shook for a moment. A slight, faint tremor, though still apparent. He went to question it until another followed it. And then another. And another. Each one growing louder and louder, shaking the earth more and more until Sehun stood shakily on his feet, assuming the worst that it was an earthquake.

Though he was proven wrong on both accounts just seconds later: it wasn't an earthquake, nor was an earthquake the worst case scenario.

Spartan came rounding the corner of the street, his towering height seemingly having increased since the last Sehun had seen him. He came sprinting down the road with an inhuman speed, the earth quaking with each and every stride he took. He was coming right for Sehun, barely giving the boy any time to dive away before he rushed past him, continuing down the street and out of their sights.

Sehun huffed, the pain in his body once more coming to his mind as he hit the ground again, though he once more ignored it to the best of his abilities, scared out of his wits from what just happened. Because not only did he nearly die at the hands of Spartan's running alone, but as he looked up at the behemoth of a man…

He saw green.

Turning around, he looked to where Ginnung once lied, though now was absent, rescued by Spartan before Sehun could get his hands on them. He groaned to himself, the adrenaline which once kept him going now fizzling into nothing, leaving him a weakened mesh of battered flesh and bones.

A second after he shut his eyes, he was in the base, lying on the couch. He looked over to see Jongin crouched beside him, though before he could question him, he teleported away again, reappearing one by one with more of the members until everyone was gathered in the same room again.

"I lost Shinobi," Baekhyun explained, yanking off his mask to reveal his shocked, widened eyes. He looked as if he had seen the most terrifying amalgamation of destruction to ever grace the earth. More specifically, Spartan. "He just came out of nowhere. I had to run out of his way, he wasn't slowing down. And then after it passed, I looked over and– gone!"

"Same with Ginnung." Jongdae added.

Across the room, Junmyeon was steaming with fury, pacing and muttering to himself as he ignored the other inhabitants of the area. His hair was tousled, bearing the consequences of his hands running through the matted strands frustratedly. His teeth abused his bottom lip, gnawing at the skin as his eyes bore holes into the ground he glared at, almost menacingly in his mannerism.

He was beyond aggravated, past the point of him lecturing the group or hollering his disdain for the situation. He merely remained to himself, trapping his aggressions in his already convoluted mindscape, probably worsening the state he was in at this point, though what could they do?

After changing, Chanyeol looked at their leader, watched as he all but ignored his presence, opting to instead retreat to the control room once more. With a sigh, Chanyeol nodded to the others, accepting their greetings in his own little welcome back party before departing, not wanting to stay another moment in the same room as Junmyeon. Though in all fairness, none of them did.

He was analogous to deadly nightshade, mucking up wherever he resided with toxic fumes, poisoning those around him with his mere presence. Tension seemed to drag along wherever he went, dredging up until it was so terribly dreary that the lot would much rather do literally anything else than be around him. It was a sad constant, though one they've tragically grown accustomed to, watching the near depraved man sink further into his madness.

(y/n)'s words returned to him as he watched Junmyeon tap away furiously on the computers, eyes absorbed into the screens as he compiled more findings in their files. He knew she was right, that he should bear some patience for their leader. The man who practically raised him. Saved him from a life of solitude in hiding. He should listen to his position, truly grasp where he stood in this whole thing. Remind him that they were all on the same boat, that he wasn't the only one carrying this burden.

Though as he looked once more, at the stiffness in his bodice, the stoic glaze in his eyes, he knew right now wasn't the time.

He began to make his way to the door after having changed until he felt a hand grasp at his shirt, tugging him back some steps with a pathetic whine.

"Don't leave me here," Baekhyun whispered, sat on the couch where Sehun had once resided. After Yixing had healed Sehun of his many injuries, he got to work on the others, though left Baekhyun for last, wanting to run actual tests on him to ensure he healed every part of the stab wound from before. So he had to stay behind for a little while longer. "Please."

"I'd love to, I really would," Sehun responded, resting a hand on Baekhyun's shoulder. With a gentle, reassuring squeeze, he continued. "But I would much rather do anything else that requires me leaving this place so…"

"I brought your bow and arrows back with me, you should be grateful!" He reminded him, eyes widened with his theatrics. "I could've left it behind for the reporters to snag!"

"I am so grateful, truly." Sehun pressed a hand to his chest. "But also, I don't care. All you did was repay me for forcing me to move apartments"

"Your lease was running out anyways! Get over it! You have a new apartment!" Baekhyun argued as Sehun slipped out of the room.

The next day was a drag, Sehun going about his day absolutely drained from the night before. He barely got any sleep before he was rushing to his job. And the day seemed to drag up to the point where he was finally released from his cycle of torment. For the rest of the day, at least.

He had barely gotten any time to even reach his door before the one opposite his swung open, and a girl came stumbling out, arms wrapping around Sehun in a suffocating hug. She then proceeded to drag him inside, continuing to hold him as they hobbled over to her couch to proceed with their embrace there.

It was a common thing between them, and one Sehun had come to absolutely adore, hugging her back as they finally collapsed onto the plush cushions.

"Are you okay?" She asked, voice muffled from where she had buried her face into his sweater.

"Of course I'm alright," he responded, hand gently stroking the back of her head. "I told you last night I was alright, and this morning, and this afternoon, and now I'm telling you to your face." He pressed his hand to her jawline, raising her head up to face him. Her eyes glimmered with worry, with apprehension, with fear. Though past it all was the usual spark of admiration she held for him. Her silent appreciation that he truly was safe. "I'm okay."

"I get so nervous when I hear about the battles." (y/n) muttered, pouting sadly as her eyes averted downwards, avoiding his gaze.

"I understand." He answered.

His finger tapped gently on her cheek, hoping to gain her attention, bring her loving eyes back to him, but she refused, adamant on staring at the patterns of his sweater. With a soft smile, his eyes lazily drifting down to her pouted mouth, Sehun leant forward, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She responded almost immediately, her kiss just as doting as she always was, warm and loving and everything he could ever ask for. The way she poured her emotions out for him, conveying every spoken and unspoken truth within her heart. Her touch was like an ailment to any affliction, her hands reaching up to cup his face tenderly. He melted into her touch, her fingers delicately stroking against his skin, sparking and reigniting the life within him.

This was all he needed. This was all he could ever ask for. This was what he had always wanted in his world.

This precious soul, so strong, so caring. Benevolent in her entirety. Someone who deserved all things good in life. Someone who was meant to be cherished by someone entirely devoted to her. Sehun would like to think he was that devoted follower she deserved. Someone who could love her as she was, comfort her in her times of need, never abandon her when she's at her lowest, support her when she's riding the highs of success. Be there for her during every step of the way.

He was so hopelessly in love with her.

With their stomachs full, the TV playing something in the background, blanket draped over the two, encasing them in a cocoon of warmth and comfort, Sehun could feel (y/n) dozing off on him. His fingers continued to gently scratch against her scalp, massaging away any tension she could have had, leaving her a pile of mush nestled against his chest. As she slowly faded away, Sehun had decided to shift his attention to the screen, tuning in and out on the nature documentary playing, watching the family of penguins waddle about in the snow.

The scene of a father penguin nursing his egg came up, sparking Sehun's attention.

"How's your dad?" He softly asked, not wanting to break the tranquil silence which filled the atmosphere. It had taken a moment for her to respond, Sehun having even thought she had truly fallen asleep.

"He's fine, I guess." She mumbled lowly, a curious lilt in her voice. "I have no idea. Why?"

His heart plummeted at her response, tensing some before catching himself, not wanting to startle her in her dazed state.

"You took care of him this weekend, didn't you?" He questioned.

This time, he felt her stiffen in his touch. Though just as quickly as he had felt it, she softened again, shifting some to grow cozier against him, hiding herself in his shoulder.

"Yeah. I did." She responded. "He's okay now."

Dread practically filled his entire being, even after (y/n) had gone to sleep. His hand continued to pet her, keeping her asleep as his mind swam with incessant anxieties. All revolving around her and her secret. What was she hiding from him? With every new thing he gathered from her, he couldn't help but grow more and more concerned, more and more worried. That deep area within his mind was slowly becoming more and more overwhelmed, and he knew eventually, he wouldn't be able to continue ignoring it.

But for now, with (y/n)'s steady breathing lulling him to sleep, the familiar scent of vanilla from her candle wafting in the air, and the warmth of their two bodies snuggled close together, he forced his doubts away. Because he was just so hopelessly, desperately, maddeningly in love with (y/n), and he couldn't ever let her go.

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