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sweetinsaniiity · 1 day ago

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Don't Lean On Me

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - tsundere!outcast!Yeosang x semi-stalker!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - enemies-to-lovers trope, college au, heavy angst, tooth-rotting fluff, Yeosang is kind of an !asshole (in the beginning), reader fell first but he fell harder, reader is down bad for Yeosang, reader has !stalker tendencies, abandonment in the rain, eventual make up, happy ending ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-14+, kissing scene, suggestive content, threats (both harmful and non-harmful), scene where Yeosang holds your arm to kick you out, mentions of a car accident (non-graphic), no smut this time, sorry folks ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 27K words (I can explain) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Yeosang was the campus freak. An outcast, to say the least. He didn't particularly do anything, well, except cover his face with a black mask and avoid everybody. He never takes it off and nobody has ever seen his face before. But you couldn't help but fall for him, so you follow him every single time. You get caught, however, and he threatens you to stay away from him. To add salt to the injury, you were both partnered for a project that will exempt you from the subject next semester. ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - It wasn't my intention to make this as long as it is, and again, easygoing fluff without any drama and plot-twists aren't my thing, but I really wanted to start 2025 with something sweet! Stay tuned because the next one will be EXTREMELY TOXIC. Enjoy! Title from Amity Affliction. Also, I'm really sick right now, bear with me. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 ◄

► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @dove-net @keopihaus @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet @pirateeznet @hiraya-m ◄

It was him, yet again. It was very easy to spot him as he always took the same spot where he was now at the far corner of the classroom where everybody blatantly ignored him.

But not you though. You could have burned a hole in this guy's skull with how hard you stared at him every single time you saw him. How could you not? The way his rigid posture sat straight as he tuned the world out with his earphones and the way his uninterested eyes would scan all over the room definitely caught your eye.

And you knew that everybody in the classroom did, too. But that was the thing, you weren't aloof to all the sneers and snickers they sent towards his direction.

You tapped the person sitting to your left, who just also happened to be one of your best friends, without leaving your sights on the mysterious man that already made your heart beat unknowingly. "Hey, who's that again?"

You've been in this particular class, the only class you share, but for some reason, you never did bother to ask. Until now.

Yunho glances behind him with a small frown, following the direction of where your index finger was pointing. His brows tilt up ever so slightly as you watch his face slowly transform into that of recognition.

"Kang Yeosang," he said more as a surprise rather than a statement. He turns back to look at you inquisitively. "Very smart, like, really damn smart, but that's not what a lot of people notice at first."

He was right. You were guilty as charged, though, because it was also the reason why you were suddenly interested in him.

Yeosang wore a face mask that covered half of his face from his nose to his chin. Now, that part wasn't odd in itself since everybody wore them once in a while for whatever reason that may be, but Yeosang wore them literally everywhere. He never took them off, at least, from what you know.

But that was definitely the case. Again, you weren't privy to all the whispers that travelled in the air. Kang Yeosang literally never took the mask off of his face. Nobody has ever seen what the guy looked like.

"Don't be judgmental," you murmured, forcing your head to look forward. "Nobody does something different for absolutely no reason at all."

"I didn't say anything like that," Yunho counters. "I do admit that it is a bit odd, but hey, whatever works. I mean, look..."

He dug something out of his coat pocket. A small, compact mirror. You raised a brow at Yunho, but he shrugs it off. He angled the mirror and then you realized what he was doing.

"He's already good-looking with that thing on," Yunho muttered under his breath as you both looked at Yeosang. "Imagine if he actually took that mask off? There will be no pussy left for everyone in this building."

You rolled your eyes dramatically, ignoring his crass statement. What Yunho said, though, you couldn't refute.

Even with the face mask covering almost the majority of his face, there was no denying that Yeosang was simply gorgeous. There was an itch for you to do something about the mask, but you willed them to go away. It was none of your business.

A pang hits your chest. You suddenly felt bad for him, people were just mean for no definitive reason. It shouldn't have mattered that Yeosang wanted to wear a mask, hell, even if he wore a chicken mascot costume it was still none of everybody's business.

But alas. Such is human nature.

Your class had started, and as usual, it was a bore. Still, you had to endure it for your grades. You couldn't concentrate, however, as your mind kept drifting to the mysterious man who sat at the far corner of the classroom away from prying eyes.

Against your better judgment, you swiveled your head once more to take a good look at him, but your heart leapt to your throat when you made eye contact with him. That meant he was already looking in your direction before you turned.

Your jaw slackened, your heart beating faster and faster you were afraid it would jump out of your ribcage, as you stared into his eyes. They were captivating. It was the understatement of the century. His eyes were a home for a tempest that raged without end.

In short, they were dead. At some point, you were sure that his eyes were once alive because despite the horrors that hid them, you could tell he had a beautiful soul.

A soul that you didn't have anymore, for the moment that your eyes had met his, it was over. He stole it from you just as fast as the light from his eyes was stolen, as well.

Dryness covered your entire mouth when his brow raised in question, challenging you to say something to him since you were staring at him so intently.

You were rendered frozen in your seat. Not for nothing, but he must be doing something to hypnotize you. Yeah, that was probably it, why else would you stay unmoving for the favour of staring at him?

Yeosang tilted his head in curiosity, leaning back on his seat to get comfortable. He crossed his arms, eyes not breaking their contact with yours. You gulped, even his gestures were so fascinating.

There was a world within this classroom, and the only inhabitants in it were you and Yeosang. Forget your class, it was too late for that because you'd already lost yourself in this. Nobody paid attention to the both of you, and nobody had noticed what was going on.

Not even when everybody had started standing up since class was over had distracted you. The one that did, however, was Yunho's hand wrapping around your arm to catch your attention.

You jumped at the touch, your head snapping quickly in his direction, eyes widened, clearly startled. Yunho chuckled in amusement at your expression. "You okay? You seemed pretty lost there," he asked.

You robotically turned back to answer Yunho. "Yeah, I'm good," you cleared your throat. "Just a bit distracted, boring class, you know?"

"Right," Yunho drawled, eyes squinting in suspicion. He stood up, his sling bag on his shoulder already, and smoothly picked up your tote that contained all your notes. "Anyhow. Jongho's already ordered us some brunch, we have to go."

You nodded, hesitantly standing up, watching as Yunho went ahead to the exit and started talking to another friend of his.

When you looked back at that particular spot, you were disheartened to see that Yeosang was already gone.

Your eyes tried to find the masked brunette, but no such luck. He must have rushed out the moment you looked away.

What a shame, you thought with an internal pout. You followed Yunho with an aimless gait through the halls, you trusted him to get you to where you needed to go because you didn't even trust yourself right now.

You've always been a sucker for the eccentric. While you didn't think Yeosang was one per se, you were just so sick of normalcy. It wasn't entirely for you.

"Right on time, lazy bums," Jongho smirked, standing up as you and Yunho both approached him. "I already paid for everything---don't even fucking think about it."

Yunho paused, mouth agape, the hand that held his wallet frozen in the air. "C'mon, dude. You can't do this every time. We just want to hang out."

Jongho sat back down, gesturing for the both of you to sit down. "Yeah, well, I asked for it, so it's a no-brainer, yes?"

Yunho rolled his eyes, temporarily accepting defeat, because you all knew none of you would win. Choi Jongho was born into a family that had conglomerates everywhere. He had the money, which you and Yunho had made clear that you didn't need, but he did it, anyway.

You inched a bit closer to Jongho and gave him a small peck on his cheeks. "Thanks, baby bear. But Yunho's right. We can pay for our stuff."

Jongho jokingly pushed you away, making you giggle softly. He hastily rubbed the spot you pecked. "Don't ever do that again," he groaned. "And stop being an ungrateful brat. I swear I need new friends."

You smiled a bit, your lips pursed with the action. It didn't reach your eyes, Jongho noticed. He raised a brow to stare at Yunho, who only shrugged.

You realized that the three of you were in a cafe near the college grounds. The ambience was nice, but you couldn't remember the last time where you just sat like this, enjoying the moment with your friends, and simply just passing time.

Your appetite had long gone, but you couldn't tell Jongho that since he'd paid for the food. You had to at least pretend you were enjoying it. At least, they were. Yunho chuckled at something Jongho said, but you didn't even hear it.'

A certain brunette flashed in your mind again. You paused, suddenly wondering what he was doing. You knew it was ridiculous, Yeosang probably thought you were ridiculous.

You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it, cringing at the fact that Yeosang probably thought that you were staring at him just to make fun of him, just like the rest. You weren't, though, but he possibly can't know that.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the distinct clatter of utensils hit your ears. It was Jongho's doing, you frowned in confusion.

"Alright, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jongho demanded, leaning his elbow on the table, twisting his body so he'd face you. "You've been so distracted the entire time and it's getting on my nerves."

You glanced up at him and stared at him for a good couple of seconds. He wasn't going to yield, so you couldn't keep the eye contact you started. It suddenly got difficult to swallow with how dry your throat was getting.

"I'm just tired," you mumbled, sounding unconvincing even to yourself. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, cut the crap," Yunho interjected, cluttering his utensils in a comical way that you couldn't help but let out a real smile. "I know why you're like this. It's Kang Yeosang, isn't it?"

You blushed beet red. You supposed to weren't discreet. The intensity in which your scalp tingles at the mention of his name was electrifying, the sensation akin to when you met eyes with each other prior to this.

Jongho's brows reached his hairline, his expression turning from curious to one of complete surprise. "Yeosang? Flower-looking dude, pale skin, about 'ye height?" Jongho gestured to his own height. "How do you know him?"

You and Yunho looked at each other before turning to Jongho in suspicion. "I have one class with him," you admitted.

"How do you know him?" Yunho questioned with scrutiny.

Jongho hesitated. He looked between you and Yunho repeatedly for what seemed like a while, before he sighed deeply, looking around him cautiously. When he saw that the coast was clear, he leaned closer. You and Yunho did the same.

"You didn't hear this from me," he said, eyes hard. "Yeosang is, was, my childhood friend. Remember my friend that I always spoke about that always had my back?"

It clicked, and you nodded. "That's him? But you said he's very funny and talkative," you blurted out without thinking. You were genuinely flabbergasted.

Jongho drummed his fingers on the table, a faraway look in his eyes present before he spoke again. "Something happened that made him the way he is now," he cryptically explained. "It's not my story to tell. All I ask is to not judge him."

You elbowed Yunho and sassed at him with your eyes, signaling with the 'I-told-you-so' look. He smirked, pushing your elbow away.

"Little Miss Y/N here," Yunho sarcastically gestured to you, then ruffled your hair messily. "Has a bit of a crush with your childhood friend---"

"Shut up, I definitely do not," you hissed, though it didn't have any bite to it. You didn't know it was possible for your face to be redder than it already was, but here you were.

Just then, Jongho started laughing, his voice bellowing loudly in the small confines of the cafe, earning your table stares, but you couldn't care less. His gummy smile had always been contagious, so it was no surprise when you started laughing along with him.

"It's such a shame, though," Jongho chuckled away the remnants of his laughter with a small shake of his head. "I know Yeosang even though we fell apart. You're definitely his type, down to a T."

Yunho started to laugh but nodded his head in agreement anyway. "I could see that, honestly. Mingi has a thing or two for you."

"No, he doesn't," you rolled your eyes. Song Mingi was the campus crush, and you did have a crush on him before, but that ship had long sailed and it was fleeting anyway. "What makes you say that, though, Jongie?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" Jongho smirked, playfully teasing you, much to your chagrin.

You groaned. "Seriously!"

Of course, you weren't going to tell him that you were definitely curious now. You also weren't going to tell him that you were going to use this information to your advantage.

Jongho flicked your forehead lightheartedly. "He likes cute things, plain and simple," he shrugged, side-eyeing you. "That includes potential girlfriends, too."

The mischief in that Cheshire-like smile that was bigger than anything you've ever seen. You were glad he crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat, you didn’t want him in your face.

That didn't mean you weren't going to think about what he said for days, though.

Unfortunately, you hadn't really seen Yeosang anymore after that.

He didn't attend the once-a-week class the next week, and you couldn't attend the one the following week. You had an unlucky bout of allergy due to the pollen going around campus. All Yunho did that whole day he visited was roll his eyes at your antics.

You were hoping to cross paths with him again, even though you knew you weren't going to talk to him anyway. You just wanted to take one more peek at him before you continued on with your life.

Yeah, totally not creepy.

"Good morning, Y/N."

You were forced out of your thoughts when a voice from behind you sounded. You were currently in front of the professors' lounge early in the morning.

"Oh! Good morning, Mr. Park, I'm so sorry to disturb you so early in the morning," you bowed deeply in the presence of your professor.

"It's quite alright, dear," Park Seonghwa, your professor in that one class you missed, chuckled. You couldn't help but loosen up, he really was your favourite professor and you respected him a lot.

He opened his briefcase to get out a stack of papers. "I hope everything is fine on your end? Here, take them," he handed them to you.

You nodded, explaining that it was pollen and that it was fine now. "Wonderful," he said. "Regardless, I expect my star student in my class next week. Good day."

"Thank you, Professor," you bowed one more time before you completely walked away.

There were more notes than expected, you realized that as you riffled through them, skimming just to get a general gist from where you stopped and where you should begin to catch up.

You weren't one of those students that studied a lot, but you also weren't careless about your grades. You just wanted to get by, and you were just lucky that all your professors remember and like you well enough to give you some notes when you miss some classes.

You sighed, contemplating what to do. With all these notes, you had to concentrate on them for a day or two. Final was coming and you didn't have enough time to study the following days.

To the library it is, you decided. Your feet were already taking you to that sacred place that you love so much. And when you entered, your mood instantly lifted.

You loved how empty the space was, yet it was extensive in nature. It was the perfect labyrinth to get trapped in; once you get inside the minds of great authors or whatnot and relive the adventures, the sorrow, and the laughter imprinted and immortalized by the writings in the pages of their books, you can never leave.

It was perfect. You approached the front desk so you could greet your friend who was working part-time to sustain his scholarship. He didn't notice you at first, but when he did, he was all smiles.

"Well, look who we have here," he smirked, closing the book he, himself, held in his hand. "Good to see you, Y/N."

You chuckled softly so as to not break the peace. "Likewise, Kim Hongjoong," you nodded. "I need a couple of books about these for my finals..."

Hongjoong gently took the notes Professor Park gave you and scanned them quickly before doing whatever it was he needed to do on his computer. He wrote a series of numbers on the paper before handing them back to you.

"I put the aisles and shelf numbers on every book you need," he murmured, pointing them out. "Shouldn't be too difficult to find."

"Got it. I appreciate the help, Joong," you thanked him. He nodded and waved you off, dismissing you. You couldn't help but laugh under your breath.

Just like he said, the books weren't too difficult to find, and soon, you found yourself with a stack of them. You were pleased when you found that your favourite spot was free, and so, you studied away.

You lost yourself in the process, like you always did when you started, but along the way, there was an itch in your neck that was begging to be noticed.

Subconsciously, you looked up, and your world stopped along with your heart.

Yeosang, too, was busying himself with a stack of his own books. Of course, he still wore that mask on his face, but there was something different about him from the last time you had seen him.

His hair was styled up in a way that looked effortlessly good, his forehead was a bit exposed and you were able to see his eyes clearly this time even though his nose was deep in the book he held.

He was a couple of tables away from you, isolated from everybody at the very end of the library where you knew not a lot of people went. It reminded you of the way he sat down in your class.

His presence just engulfed you, and you didn't know why. The grip you had on your book would've been suffocating had it been alive, you couldn't stop staring at Yeosang.

His brown cashmere coat perfectly complemented his physique; it made him look very masculine. His cropped out hair fitted him well, and the way he carried himself interested you so much.

The way his fingers moved to turn the pages of his book mesmerized you, brought you into a world where you wondered what it would feel like if that hand was holding yours. He wasn't even doing anything but sit down like someone would in a library, yet he simply exuded grace and elegance.

You knew then and there, that this wasn't just a fleeting crush on a man that doesn't even know your name.

Ever since then, you made an effort to go the library every single day just to peek a glance on Yeosang. Whether it was hours or minutes to an end, you didn't mind. Of course, you didn't want to be borderline creepy, there were times where you actually needed to study and so many times where you didn't realize that he had left because you were so engrossed with your work.

His schedule was simple, you learned that he'd go to the library every other day either to just read or actually study. You took note of the books he read, they were way too advanced for you. Yunho wasn't lying - this man was intelligent.

Your little crush soon turned into genuine admiration. If one would look hard enough, it was easy to say that Yeosang was one of the most hardworking people you've had the pleasure to go to university with.

And just like you, he'd get lost in his world once he got too deep, and it was when you'd take the time to study him just a bit more.

You had memorized the notes that you were given from front to back, word per word, punctuation per punctuation, but you still went to the library anyway.

There were times where Yeosang would subconsciously look forward, he would take a break from reading and stretch his neck, and you'd panic and look down, but you were sure he didn't notice you. You sure hoped he didn't, the blush on your cheeks could be seen miles away.

Hongjoong raised his brow one day when you handed him the book that you wanted to check out for a week, and you couldn't look him straight in the eye.

"The Art Of War?" Hongjoong blurted out incredulously. He sheepishly looked down when a couple of people turned to our direction with a small glare. You bit your lip when he kept staring at the book.

He leaned forward, his voice hushed, his eyes glowing with mirth, but with suspicion nonetheless. "I didn't know you were interested in Machiavellian beliefs and principles."

You weren't. In fact, you didn't give a crap or two about it. Yunho snatched the book from Hongjoong and flipped a couple of pages. "Damn, I can't even understand this," he chortled, giving the book back. "You're really gonna read this?"

You rolled your eyes in half-annoyance to cover up how red the tips of your ears were. You saw Yeosang reading the book for days before he returned it, and you just wanted to see what kind of books he read.

You wanted to know what ran in Yeosang's head as he sat there and read it and maybe, just maybe, you were absolutely insane in the head because you liked him a bit too much.

"Is it so hard to believe that I'm interested in it? Geez," you murmured, grabbing the book and hastily chucking in your purse as if doing so would make Hongjoong and Yunho forget that it existed.

"Yes," they both answered in unison.

You scoffed, offended that they actually thought so, but you couldn't really get mad at them, because it was truly unbecoming of you. You weren't really interested in how the world worked, you were a hopeless romantic, and you wanted to stay that way for a while.

"Maybe it's in the air, someone just returned that book yesterday after a week," Hongjoong scoffed, grabbing a book that you just logged into to check out anything. "Yeah, that guy, Kang Yeosang. Cool guy, a bit withdrawn, kinda weird, but cool regardless."

Yunho's eyes almost popped out of its sockets and he turned to you with the most shit-eating grin on his face. He was about to open his mouth, but before he could, you quickly reached up and covered it. It was a challenge since Yunho was a giant, but you didn't want him tattling. You wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Ah, we have classes in a couple of minutes," you laughed nervously, stomping on Yunho's foot, making him groan in pain that was muffled by your hand. "Bye, Joong!"

You left, dragging the big Jeong Yunho comically while Hongjoong watched with his mouth opening and closing repeatedly like a wee little fish.

Yunho forcefully removed your hand from his face the moment you got outside, but it didn't stop him from giving you that mouth-splitting grin that you wanted to wipe off of his face. "I can expla---"

"Oh, no need," he playfully teased in a sing-songy voice. "You're already head over heels for the guy, it's remarkable---"

"Jeong Yunho, I swear to God---"

"I cannot wait to actually tell Jongho, man, I thought you'd give Mingi a chance---"

You turned around to run away from his relentless teasing, you could hear him laughing behind you. You giggled under your breath and usually you'd entertain his teasing, but you were so confused on what you felt for Yeosang lately.

The entire night was spent on you reading the book and as expected, you abhorred it. You crumpled your face in genuine skepticism, did Yeosang truly enjoy this?

The more you turned the pages, the more pissed you got, suddenly realizing that you were doing this for a man who doesn't even give two shits about you. It was deplorable.

After a day or two, you decided to return the book. There was no point in keeping it if you weren't interested in it anyway, but you decided to do it later. You'd sit down on your usual spot first.

To your surprise and dismay, Yeosang wasn't sitting in his usual spot. It wasn't really odd, sometimes his schedule did become sporadic, but still, your heart slowed its beating. You already felt a bit down.

But there would have been no need. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you as you sat down at your usual spot. Before you could turn around and inspect, they leaned down, and you felt hands on your shoulders. They were firm and sure.

Shivers travelled down your spine when a deep, rich voice hit your ear as they whispered. "Machiavelli, huh?"

The voice was muffled with something, like a mask. Heat soaked up your entire face and the tips of your ears. You had forgotten to put the book away and thought it was a great idea to have it out in the open.

Or maybe, you did it on purpose hoping that Yeosang would see and pique his interest.

"Meet me at the blind spot to the left behind the staircase. If you're not there within three minutes, I will sabotage all of your projects until you graduate," he ordered gruffly, his tone gravelly and unpleasant, to be quite frank. "All of them."

A cold bucket of water could have been poured directly on your head without warning and it still wouldn't be able to bring you any type of dread like those words would ever do. It was insane.

You didn't hesitate, haphazardly throwing all your belongings hastily without any sort of order in your purse before sprinting out of the library. Today was not the day to test the validity of the whispered threat.

A record should've been awarded to you with how quick your feet had taken you were Yeosang told you to. At first, you didn't see him, but when you noticed a shadow fleeting in and out at the very corner of the staircase, you knew it was him. It was indeed a blind spot - no one would be able to see him unless they were looking for him.

The moment you stepped in that hidden area, you were roughly slammed against the adjacent wall. To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

Right away, you tried to cradle your head to halt the oncoming nausea from the sheer force, but your hands were also pinned above your head.

"What," you said rather than questioned. "W-What are you doing?"

When your eyes finally focused on what's in front of you, you couldn't help but let out a small gasp. His black mask covered his face well, but never his eyes. God, you hoped not.

You were right all along, his eyes were beautiful, especially this close. You could smell his cologne, too. Heat started to travel from your neck all the way to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on his scent.

"Cut the shit," Yeosang spat, venom coated in every syllable. His hold on your hands tightens to the point of pain. "Stop following me."

Time stopped at that very second. His voice was a lot deeper than you thought. You swallowed, Yeosang's eyes subconsciously trailing down your throat at the motion. "I-I'm not following you," you squeaked out.

"Oh?" Yeosang tilted his head. The movement would have been cute, if he didn't look angry and menacing right now. One of his hands let go to dig into your purse. He grabbed the book you were supposed to return, but couldn't.

"You don't look like the type to read Machiavellian beliefs, princess," he gritted out. "And I mean that with full offense."

You frowned, thoroughly confused as to why Yeosang was, frankly, acting like an ass towards you. "You're a judgmental one, aren't you? What if I was?"

"Then what's his name?"

You blanched, mouth getting dry from the sudden question. Yeosang's unimpressed glare catches you off guard. You felt your heart cracking a bit.

"I'm not sure," you admitted, voice small, embarrassed to be caught red-handed in a lie. You bit your lip, looking down towards the floor to avoid his indifferent eyes.

For a moment, you both stayed like that - Yeosang pinning you, and you just staying still just to see what he was going to do. And then, he lets go, and puts his hands on either side of you on the wall with a loud thud.

"It's Niccolo," he murmured, bitterness seeping towards his voice. It made your frown grow deeper.

"N-Niccolo?"

Yeosang scoffed, rolling his eyes sarcastically at you. "Yes. Your brain stutters, too?"

That definitely stung. You didn't know what to say but, "W-What?"

"W-What?" Yeosang repeated, voice higher in pitch in an effort to mimic and mock you as if you were a degenerate. It was honestly offensive, but you were too frozen to do anything.

"No wonder why you're so obvious, this here," he continued, his index finger tapping your temple once. "Doesn't work quite well, doesn't it?"

It was an eloquent way of saying that you were, indeed, stupid. Your manner completely transforms, it becomes rigid against him. You wanted to scoff, who knew that his angelic eyes held this much contempt in them?

Your mouth opens to defend your honour against his insults, but the same index finger touches your lips, effectively shushing you. Warmth automatically spreads through them.

"Ah, ah, ah, you have absolutely no right to talk right now," he interrupted rather rudely, his voice dropping an octave. You forced yourself not to shiver. "I mean it, Y/N. Stop fucking following me. I don't like my privacy invaded."

You couldn't stop the sigh that bubbled up your chest. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, but we could have talked this out."

He chuckled, the sound of it dark and devoid of anything that resembled emotions. "You forfeited that right since the first day. You're not as subtle as you think you are, princess."

"Don't call me that," you frowned, your hand sticking out to push his chest away, albeit weakly. "What is your damn problem?"

"What's my problem?" Yeosang reiterates, his tone taking an angrier and more aggravated tone to it. "My problem is that you are literally tailing me at the library like I'm some sort of circus zoo animal."

He sarcastically chuckled, more to himself than towards you. "But then again, that's what everyone thinks."

You felt your heart breaking a little when he adjusted the mask he was wearing as if doing so would protect him right now when in reality, you were the one in need of protection. Behind the malice in his voice was a hurt so deep, it was impossible to ignore.

His eyes met yours again, and this time, they were ablaze. "Who put you up to this?" Yeosang snarled. "Who fucking told you to watch me? And why? So you and your stupid little friends would have a laugh and go?"

"No, that's not it, I swear," you immediately denied, shaking your head repeatedly to make a point. "I didn't mean for it to look like that, I-I promise you---"

"So why the hell are you following me? Tell me," he demanded. You yelped when he roughly lifted your chin up. "At least give me the decency of looking at me straight in the eye while you tell me why you've been watching me."

"Ow, you're hurting me," you pried his hand off of your face successfully, slightly glaring at him in the process. "It's not like that," you hesitated, gulping once more before continuing. "Is it so hard to believe that someone actually admires you, or something?"

He raised a brow in irritation. "God, you're so full of shit."

He pulls away, jutting one arm out and shoves your shoulder hard - hard enough for it to collide with the wall behind you. You were stunned at his aggression.

"Stay the hell away from me," he growled, bending down to pick up the backpack he had that you didn't even notice. He started to emerge from the staircase towards the hallways where, surprisingly, no one was.

He gave you one last glare, a scathing one. "If I catch you again, I won't go easy on you next time. Save your judgment for somebody else."

You scoffed, emerging from the same spot. You inevitably ended up in front of him; the hallways were narrow, unfortunately. You looked up at him, not knowing exactly what to say. It wasn't like you didn't know where he came from, he was probably creeped out by your behaviour.

But you weren't going to tell him that it was because of your crush with him, especially not now that you know he clearly doesn't like you.

"I'm dead serious, Y/N. Stay away from me," he glared. "Now, if you'll kindly fuck off..."

He moves past you, his shoulders deliberately hitting yours, causing you to stagger back a little bit. The only thing you could do from then was to look behind you as you watched him walk away.

You couldn't help but notice how confident his gait was - how sure he was of himself. You shook your head in disbelief, utterly and thoroughly confused, not knowing what to believe at this point.

Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. The resonating voice of realization in your head made you numb, the mortification slowly trickling down your chest slowly. It tightens as the shame presents itself at the discomfort written on your face.

It wasn’t like he was wrong, because definitely had a valid point. Still, you couldn’t help the cascade of tears that started to fall from your eyes from the direct confrontation.

A thought had suddenly struck your head as you watched him walk away and disappear when he rounded the corner of the hallway - how did he even know your name?

It wouldn’t be the last time you and Yeosang encountered each other. One way or another, you were especially hyper aware of his presence.

You stopped going to the library. You weren’t an idiot, you weren’t going to frequent a place where you know you weren’t wanted. Yeosang, however, made it a point to glare at you every single time your eyes would meet.

That in itself would have been fine, but when he started to purposely bump into your shoulders hard enough to send you reeling backwards, it became a little personal. You certainly didn’t miss his little smirk when he saw you riled up.

You actively avoided him for good. Curse you for being attracted to the eccentric.

Today was one of those - you sat in your usual seat along with Yunho while Yeosang was in that same isolated spot he liked taking since nobody wanted to be associated with him. It was fine, it wasn’t difficult to ignore him given his little attitude towards you.

”Hey,” Yunho called softly. You raised a brow in question. “You and Yeosang got beef, or something?”

“No, not that I know of,” you frowned. “Why?”

”Because he’s been staring, or rather, shooting daggers at you the moment you sat down. He figured out your weird little habit of watching him, huh?” Yunho smirked, crossing his arms.

You grumbled a little curse in his direction, making him chuckle at your antics. You didn’t doubt what he said, though. Yeosang definitely didn’t like you and you gave him the ammunition to do so.

The commotion died down gradually when the professor entered the classroom and hushed everybody. Soon enough, you were able to tune out the prickling sensation towards the back of your neck you knew came from Yeosang’s stares.

You bunched your brows up, though, when you noticed that your professor wasn’t carrying his usual lecture materials and, instead, had a small box in his hands. It didn’t happen often with college students, but he definitely had everybody’s attention hanging in a thread successfully.

”Good day, everybody,” Professor Choi San greeted with a soft smile, his dimples deepening at the gesture, along with his eyes that laid subdued behind a pair of glasses that made him look undeniably attractive. He shakes the box that he held in one hand while he gestured to the class with the other. “Before the year ends, I’d like everybody to do a project instead of the usual examinations. It’ll be a two-person team effort.”

You automatically turned to your side and bumped your elbows at Yunho, who was already looking at you with a gleeful smile. However, that bubble soon burst when Professor Choi cleared his throat, effectively silencing the room once again. “Your partners will be randomized,” he shook the box once more to prove his point. “I’ve already picked half of the class, random as well, to pick out names inside this box.”

What the hell kind of concept is this? You couldn’t help but grimace on the inside, you knew barely anybody in this class, let alone work with somebody for a project that would determine if you will pass this class or not.

”It’s better than a written exam, yes?” Professor Choi smirked.

It was a bore. You had no interest in doing the project, but you have no choice. Surely, you didn’t want to pick a random name either. When Yunho was called, the little hope you had in partnering with him got shattered when he picked a name that wasn’t yours.

He still technically won the lottery though, because he was partnered up with Mingi. When he got back to the seat, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement and relief when he showed you the paper that held Mingi’s name.

He, too, was worried he’d pick a random name even though he was a bit more extroverted than you were. “You’ll get lucky, too, I’m sure of it,” he patted your shoulders in faux comfort. “My luck extends to friends, you know?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I can already see this project being a disaster with the two of you being together like this.”

He laughed out loud at your statement, and as if he had jinxed it, your name was suddenly called. Somebody had already picked your name. When you looked towards the front, it was by this girl you recalled seeing in multiple of your classes.

You offered her a small smile, one she returned awkwardly. She seemed nice enough to you and that’s all that mattered to you. Yunho and Jongho had told you before that you had an uncanny way of making someone like you eventually.

“Kang Yeosang.”

Your breath hitched, deliberately straining your neck to not turn around and look at him as he walked towards the centre of the room with the Professor.

It wasn’t just you - everybody turned silent as they all stared at the man with that confident shadow behind him. He knew everybody stared and he didn’t care, and you genuinely admired that mentality. If only you could turn back time and actually tell him that instead of watching him like a creep.

But you were pretty sure that you were the only one who stared at him with admiration. Everyone else judged him for hiding his face, and you could have sworn you felt your break a little more at that.

Finally, he puts his head inside the box and quickly pulls it out, the piece of paper in his hand crumpling with how hard he gripped it. You suddenly wished you could see his entire face to know exactly what he’s feeling.

You could hear the snickers behind you, people relieved that they had already picked a partner, or people laughing at him. They were just plain nasty, and you couldn’t take hearing them anymore.

You held your fists tights, they were almost white with how tight you were holding them. You tried tuning them out, focusing on the sight of Yeosang with Professor Choi.

You frowned, something wasn’t right. The way Yeosang’s brows furrowed. Suddenly, he looked up, eyes meeting yours. You froze, not knowing exactly why he was looking at you.

He took one more look at the paper before pocketing it. “I got L/N Y/N,” he said, clear as day, his deep voice resonating all over the vast classroom.

Your brain definitely short-circuited that day and you can’t read the future, but you were sure that this was the exact moment where you were sure that your life would turn upside down and change.

”Are you sure?” Professor Choi asked, confused, amidst all the hushed whispers that resounded all over the room.

Redness spreads through your cheeks at all the unwanted attention. You turned to Yunho and tapped his arms cautiously “There goes my chance of being normal in school,” you murmured.

He patted your shoulders in comfort. “Professor Choi must’ve accidentally put your name twice without noticing.”

It was a legitimate cause, you’ve thought the very same thing. You couldn’t help but glance at Yeosang once more, and unbelievably, your cheeks became even hotter to the touch. You definitely wouldn’t mind partnering with him for this project.

And that’s exactly what happened. As it turns out, there was only one person left that didn’t have a partner yet. The girl who was partnered with you insisted that they be partnered, instead, and Professor Choi agreed, leaving you and Yeosang together.

You wanted to give him a piece of your mind for how he was treating you for the last few weeks, but that resolve faltered when you noticed Yeosang’s eyes from a distance. He looked hurt, and you knew why.

He could hide under that glare or pretend that he was indifferent, but it definitely hurt him to be tossed around as if he wasn’t even in the room in the first place.

To add salt to the wound, Professor Choi instructed all partners to be seated together for the rest of the class. Yunho gave you a small peck on the cheek - platonically - before getting up and making his way towards Mingi.

”Can you guys keep that PDA bullshit somewhere else? So disrespectful to the public,” Yeosang murmured, his voice muffled by the mask, plopping down the seat where Yunho once was. “Does your boyfriend know you were stalking me?”

You scoffed, appalled at what he was trying to insinuate. “First of all, Yunho is my best friend—-”

”Yeah, that’s what they all say,” he smirked dirtily, his head swiveling towards you in a mocking move. “Then you find out they’re screwing. Tell me, are you the type of bitch who’ll give it in some random back alleyway? ”

The ringing in your ears became louder and louder, and it took you everything in your soul to not lash out in the middle of class and just grab your purse so you could smack the living daylights out of this guy.

”And what if I am? You sound bitter to me,” you challenged him, keeping your voice to a minimum, just to rile him up. You’d like to think of yourself as kind, but you are definitely not a pushover.

His brow shots up in mild surprise at your statement, clearly not expecting for you to stand up for yourself. His eyes had this unmistakable fire that contained fiery rage, and instead of standing down, you rolled your eyes at him. His eyes squint in response.

He did start this, but you wouldn’t let him finish. He was about to open his mouth and say something but you beat him to it.

”I feel bad for you,” you chuckled without any humour in it. “Nobody has shown you enough love in your life, it seems, and you don’t look like anybody who has ever given any ounce of love towards somebody else.”

Even if you meant what you had said, you immediately regretted saying it to his face directly. You bit your lip to stop the yelp that wanted to escape your throat when he gripped your arm fast.

”You don’t know a thing or two about me, princess,” he hissed, his grip on your arm tightening to a point of constriction. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

He pulled you harshly towards him. “What the hell are you doing?” You hissed back at him.

You tried to pry your arms away, but all that did was make his grip tighter. You looked around you and was displeased when nobody had noticed what was going on. Even Yunho was busy discussing with Mingi from where he was.

”Watch your damn mouth around me,” he warned you, his face dangerously close to your own. “You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

”Oh, sure. Says the guy who has a freaking face mask around his face like a little coward,” you sarcastically rebutted.

A deep chuckle hits your ears before he lets go. Nothing in particular happened after that, except for the contents of the project.

“Whoever does the best will be exempted for the rest of the year on exams and will automatically get an A,” Professor Choi bargained, much to everybody’s surprise. “You better do well.”

Damn it, you cursed internally. This project would be the challenge of a lifetime. Soon enough, class was dismissed, and you were determined to set things with Yeosang.

But apparently, he was, too. As usual, the moment class ended, Yeosang was nowhere to be seen. You were about to march off in annoyance when a hand from seemingly out of nowhere materialized and pulled you back in the now-empty classroom.

”I’ll cut this short,” he cleared his throat, as if that would do anything for you since he sounded muffled anyway. “I’ll do all the work, all you have to do is—-”

”And why would you do that?” You raised a brow in irritation, feeling what little left of your patience ebb away. “I’d have you know that I’m not half-bad in things like these.”

He grimaced, his fingers pinching his nose bridge like you were the one stuck-up one and not him. “That’s not what I’m trying to allude to here,” he sighed exasperatedly, eyes closed in deep thought.

“Really, Yeosang? You want me to believe that?”

He went rigid, one eye opening to stare at you. You were caught off-guard by how heavy and lidded they were as he stared straight at you, unblinking. Was it something you said?

”Fine,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity. “We could do a solo performance and stuff.”

”Are you kidding me? That’s not how this works, and you know it,” you sarcastically remarked, throwing your hands up in frustration. You never thought you’d meet anybody that could make you lose your mind like this after Jongho, it was incredible. “Do you live alone?”

He squinted his eyes immediately. “Yes,” he dragged out slowly. “Why?”

”Perfect,” you murmured. You quickly dug into your pocket for your phone and handed it to him. ”Here.”

He frowned, staring at your phone as if you were offering him some sort of alien symbiote and was planning to annihilate him. You jutted your phone towards him again even firmer when he didn’t move. “Well?”

“Hold on a minute,” he blurted out, breaking character for just a second. “Why my house? This is your idea, your house should be the available one, not mine.”

“You think I want to get inside the house of somebody that clearly has distaste for me? I think the hell not,” you counteracted. “I don’t live alone. I have two roommates, one of which you accused me of screwing. I would never live it down if they saw you with me.”

”So please,” you continued, pressing the phone on his chest this time. “Take the phone, put your number in, and your house address, please.”

Yeosang snatched your phone rather rudely, glaring at you scathingly before doing as he was told anyway. You internally rolled your eyes at how ridiculous this all was. But at the same time, you were trying not to explode. Despite the circumstance, you couldn’t believe you were getting your crush’s phone number.

“If you show up randomly at my house one day, I will end you,“ he snarled menacingly, tossing your phone callously for you to catch in the air. “I mean it, you better not.”

“You’re not all that,” you scoffed, annoyed that he would just throw your phone like that. “I might turn into an asshole like you if I absorb all the bad juju you seem to be getting from somewhere.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that, and truth be told, you weren’t one to fight fire with fire - stone with boulder. But the things he’s been saying has been setting you off on your rocker, a taste of it wouldn’t hurt him.

Right?

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” he sneered. “Famous last words, princess. Nobody knows what the future holds, do they?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, opting not to question him when he led you out of the classroom, opening the door for you to go through. “Anyway, we do this my way, or I’m dropping you,” he mustered up, adjusting his mask a bit as we walked.

“I don’t care, honestly, I just want to pass,” you truthfully said. You heard him sigh irritatingly under his breath.”How do you propose we do this, then?”

“Do you have more classes today?” Yeosang asked, brows furrowed from above that mask. You shook your head in denial. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Great. Let’s head to that cafe near here. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

He began walking faster. You could barely keep up with him, Yeosang was of average height, however, his legs were long, you noticed, while yours were a poor excuse for a pair.

“Wow,” you whistled. “I’m not even going to question why you hate me this much, but okay.”

He laughed, the baritone timbre of his voice enhancing the quality of that beautiful sound. “I don’t hate you. Hate is quite the word,” he scoffed. “It’s strong. You don’t matter enough to me for me to spend strong emotions on.”

Your steps faltered a bit. It felt like a physical blow to your chest and tendrils started to wrap around your heart, squeezing it bit by bit until it was fully constricting against your ribcage. What he said stung more than you’d like to admit.

You couldn’t concentrate when you got in the cafe and sat down. You realized that it was the same cafe you had brunch in with Jongho and Yunho. What he said was all you could think about was all you could think about, were you really that bad?

Yeosang sat in front of you, tinkering on his phone and not paying attention to you for the time being. Not that you wanted him to, anyway, because if he did, he’d see the tears that were starting to form in your eyes.

Yeosang stood up, pocketing his phone, and walked away without even telling you, even out of courtesy and respect, and without looking in your direction. Another blow hit your chest then and there.

You took that opportunity to wipe your tears away, lifting your arm so you could use your sleeves to do so. There was no finesse in it, but you didn’t care. You felt ridiculous, but you felt bad for yourself.

Your head sprung up when something was suddenly placed on the table within your line of vision. Your brows shot up ever so slightly when you registered that it was a cup of hot, steaming, delicious chocolate. Your head snapped towards Yeosang, who just tilted his head at you.

“No ‘thank you’? Damn,” he said sarcastically, pulling on his chair and taking his place back in front of you. He leans forward, his eyes piercing straight onto yours. “Drink. I don’t want people thinking I’m abusing you or something, I’m already stigmatized as is.”

”What in the hell are you talking about?” You blurted out, tentatively reaching out, wrapping your hands around the mug. Warmth immediately spreads through them, seeping deep inside you and reaching the deepest creases of your heart. “T-thank you.”

You went rigid, your muscles tightening against your body, when Yeosang’s finger wipes a lone tear on the side of your right eye. When he pulled away, you immediately started to sip on your chocolate, cursing internally when it started to burn on your tongue, but you didn’t relent. It was a sign that you were truly alive and not dreaming at all.

”Good?” Yeosang raised his brow tentatively.

You nodded a little more enthusiastically than you’d expect yourself to do so. “What about you? I-I can get you one, if you’d like.”

“If I really wanted one, I would’ve gotten one, myself,” he scoffed. This time, you ignored how rude he was, but only for today. He lazily pointed at his face. “Plus, I have this stupid mask.”

You bit your lip, pausing before continuing. “Just take it off.”

Your heart started to pound uncontrollably at that aspect You were already infatuated with this brute with that thing on, what more if he actually took it off?

”Don’t push it, princess,” he snorted, a hint of amusement tinged in his voice. You watched as he took out his laptop from his sling bag, setting it down the table before he looked at you once more. “Shall we start?”

You and Yeosang quickly learned a routine that worked for both of your schedules. You you had to up your meetings from once a week to four times a week just so everything was perfect. You both wanted that exception next semester.

Unfortunately for you, your crush with Yeosang worsened the more time you spent with him. He was everything you liked in somebody, and as rude as his attitude and insensitive his mouth was, you could tell that deep down, you knew that he wasn’t a bad person.

And of course, you still don’t know what he looked like; not entirely, anyway. He never slipped and took it off, not once. Whenever he’d drink something, all he had to do was slip the straw from underneath the mask and drink away, or when he ate, he would lift the mask a bit underneath as well.

It bummed you out, but you respected his choice. Besides, it’s just, well, a face. It wasn’t a deal breaker or anything. Call it an added bonus to the enigma that was Kang Yeosang.

You yelped when something hit the top of your head. Your hands immediately found their place on your scalp, frowning and giving Yeosang a small glare for having the audacity to hit you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, setting down the book he used to bonk your head on his lap before he crossed his arms and glared at you. “Were you even paying attention to what I was saying?”

”O-Of course I was,” you said without thinking.

“Oh? What did I say, then?”

”That I’m the bestest partner ever and that you were going to treat me for some ice cream after this?” You peered at him, exaggerating your actions because you knew that would agitate him.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought,” he sneered, moving to grab the book again but stopping midway to take a breathe to prevent himself from potentially committing a crime.

You giggled, covering your mouth with your palms to stop the loud snorts that made you look unlady-like. “Did I hear that right? Goody two-shoes, Kang Yeosang, cursing like a sailor?”

“Yes, because you are the most irritating person I’ve had the displeasure of ever meeting,” he declared dryly. “What are you going to fucking do about it?”

This time, you didn’t even bother to cover your mouth at all and just let loose. Your laugh made your belly hurt, but it made your heart soar. You forgot the last time you just laughed and didn’t care.

”Keep it down, you’re attracting unwanted attention,” he hissed, but it didn’t have that usual intensity in it, as he looked around cautiously before he stared down the floor like he always did.

The both of you were in the campus cafeteria. You weren’t in the mood to go back to that cafe, and Yeosang wasn’t feeling it either, so the cafeteria was the only option left to go.

You weren’t privy to all the stares that were being sent in your direction, not entirely oblivious of what they’re all thinking. But mostly, they were wondering what was funny, especially because it was Yeosang with you.

”Hey,” you softly called out. He didn't meet your eye, but he nodded slightly to signify that he was listening to you.

You tapped on his hand with your finger once before pulling away. That got his attention and he finally looked at you. “Don’t mind them, they’re idiots,” you reassured. “I think you’re really cool.”

He smirked, tilting his head in curiosity. “You don’t know squat about me, that’s some high-praise for someone who’s practically a stranger to you, little princess.”

Little princess. You swallowed the blush that threatened to warm your cheeks. “I already know what I need the most,” you shrugged, sincerity coating your voice. “You’re literally the smartest person I know, seriously, how do you do it? And I like your mentality, fuck all these people, you know?”

He stayed silent. Usually, you’d hear an insult or two from him by now, but all he did was stare at you intently, his eyes getting shrouded by an emotion you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. It wasn’t malice, and it definitely wasn’t acknowledgement, but you found that you didn’t mind this look on Yeosang. He looked freer this way.

“You remind me of someone,” he suddenly spoke up. Your curiosity peaked with how far away he suddenly looked. “He was the only one who was more annoying than you, and that’s saying a lot, if you could believe it.”

He sounded so nostalgic, and you were savouring this. If he wasn’t being an asshole, he’d have a point most of the time, because he was right, you knew virtually nothing about him. It wasn’t always where Yeosang would divulge in his personal life with you or in general.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you remarked, making him roll his eyes so far back in his head, you were surprised they didn’t get stuck in there. “Anyway, is he your friend?”

“The bestest,” he immediately answered, sighing afterwads. You pursed your lips, you knew that he didn’t mean to do so.

You hesitated for a bit in fear of saying something you knew he wouldn’t like. Yeosang was what you would describe as a ticking time-bomb - you just never knew what would set him off. “Did something happen between you and him?”

He seemed to realize that he was oversharing. Much to your dismay, his eyes immediately hardened, his eyes brewing a storm that permanently seemed to cause his mind turbulence.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, changing the topic like a tidal wave that knew no consistency. It matched that of his personality so well. “I don’t have any classes for the next few days. I got exempted from all of them.”

You scoffed in awe and disbelief before you could stop yourself. It certainly earned you a nasty glare from him. Of course, you thought. This man was literally a genius. Something tells you that boredom is the biggest reason why he hasn’t gotten himself exempted from the rest of his classes.

“What are you trying to tell me? Are you perhaps,” you smirked as nasty as he was glaring at you. “Are you perhaps telling me that you’re going to miss me?”

You were kidding - well, mostly, anyway. As expected, he growled and pushed your shoulder roughly in an attempt to wake you up from your delusional thoughts.

”I’ll miss my peace of mind, that’s what,” he rolled his eyes. “Can you be for damn real for once in your miserable life? I really want to get this stupid project done.”

For some reason, that response brought you relief more than the usual sting you’d feel in your chest. You’ve spent enough time with Yeosang to know that he didn’t mean what he said eight out of ten times. The bar was that low. But the truth was, you knew you’d malfunction if he said that he would miss you.

“Do you still have the address that I gave you?” Yeosang questioned gruffly. He was in the process of putting away all his class notes in that stylish sling bag he always had on him.

You nodded. “I do. But wait, where are you going?”

He raised a brow. “You’re not my keeper,” he clicked his tongue, standing up and adjusting the bag on his shoulder across his chest. “I’m going home, if you must know. I need to meditate and ask the Lord for some patience for when you go to my house this week.”

You blinked, eyes widened owlishly, repeating the action over and over again just so you were sure you heard him right. Yeah, you were definitely malfunctioning as is.

”I’ll text you the details,” he turned around and began to walk away, leaving you to your seat alone - nobody wanted to sit with you and Yeosang - for your thoughts to wander and go haywire.

Sputtering, you stood up and called to him, ignoring the odd looks you received from the students around. “A-Are you sure?“

He paused from walking, not bothering to turn around. He raised his hand and waved from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

You were dazed the entire day, not being able to concentrate on the rest of your class, your heart doing somersaults in your chest that felt too giddy for you to relax. Excitement rolled off of you in waves and all you could do was imagine what Yeosang would be like in the comfort of his own house.

But the first thing you thought of was his face. Would he remove the mask? Surely, it gets stuffy and musty wearing it the entire day, and plus, you knew how uncomfortable it could get the longer you wore it, not to mention how it could clog your skin.

Of course, the thought did cross your mind once or twice - was he wearing it because he has something to hide? You always mentally slapped yourself whenever this would cross your mind, everybody was judgmental to a certain extent, but you tried your damned hardest to not consciously do it and make an effort to always remind yourself that it isn’t good to judge people because they all have their own stories.

However, the longer you thought of this, you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t care what was under that mask. Over the month and a couple of weeks, you have come to truly enjoy Yeosang’s company a lot, regardless if he felt the same or not.

You received the awaited text the following night. A laugh bubbled up from your chest when you opened the message like a child opening up presents during Christmas. You found it adorable that his personality also seeped in through his texts.

‘Tomorrow. Three in the afternoon. Bring your laptop, but no food since I will provide it. Be on your best behaviour, I have a dog I will not hesitate to sic on you.’

“Wow,” Yunho whistled the next day, tossing the phone back at you after reading the text message with a small chuckle. “What a douchebag.”

You replied with a dry chuckle of your own, lifting a dress you snatched from your dresser, hanger still attached and all, and laid it across the bed, beside the area where Yunho was currently sitting down. He stared at the black dress with a scoff.

”Girl, this is a study session, not a funeral,” he chortled. “Then again, if he actually has a dog, it might as well be.”

A shiver passed through you, but you gave him a stern look, anyway. “Quiet, you,” you hissed. “I don’t fucking know what to wear, I don’t want to look like a bum, but I don’t want to try too hard, either!”

“Are you trying to do that project, stupid, by the way, or are you trying to get laid?” Jongho blurted out bluntly from across Yunho, lifting the dress and inspecting it. “If you’re going for the latter, this isn’t the way to go.”

You blushed furiously, slapping your cheeks to conceal the fact, but it was already too late. You loved these two to death, but sometimes, you were just ready to not be roommates with them anymore when they both made fun of you.

“Choi Jongho, I will end you,” you seethed.

He raised his hands defensively in surrender. “Relax, tiger. Just go for a white shirt and some jeans, it’s comfortable and effective. I can tell you right now, he literally wouldn’t give a shit.”

He made it a point to raid your closet himself. “In fact,” he continued, yelping a bit when he suddenly lifted your bra and tossed it like it was bacterial. “He definitely won’t notice, trust me.”

You were mortified, but so was Yunho when said bra landed on his lap. He shrugged it off like it, too, was infectious. “Goddamn it, Y/N, clean your fucking closet,” he groaned. “But I agree. He has that thing literally on his face 24/7, I highly doubt he’ll notice anything else.”

“Here. I got this for you on your birthday, it’s high time you wear it now,” Jongho haphazardly tossed some clothes directly on your face callously. “Hurry up, it’s almost three. He won’t let you in if you’re late.”

”That’s comforting,” you remarked sarcastically.

Luckily, in your apartment, there was a walk-in closet - perks of living with an affluent roommate like Jongho - and so, you walked in there to change in your own privacy, but you didn’t shut the door so you could still talk to the both of them as you changed.

You noticed that Jongho had, indeed, given you a simple white shirt and some jeans, but he also handed you the hoodie he had given you. With that, you began to undress and change.

”How’s your project coming along, Yun?” You asked to fill in the silence.

”Good, actually. Mingi is really good at these things,” Yunho answered cheerfully. “We’ve decided to just do a short dance number, he’ll do a remix and I’ll choreograph for us.”

“Mingi dances?” Jongho asked in surprise.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys? Mingi and I used to go to the same dance school before he moved away during high school,” he explained. “This isn’t the first time we’ve worked together, so it helps, you know?”

You were happy for Yunho, and if you were honest, even though Yeosang and you haven’t decided on what to do yet, you were pretty content in being his partner. You paused, however, a line of thought suddenly crossed your mind.

“Hey, Jjong?”

“Here,” the latter answered.

You bit your bottom lip, not really sure how to articulate the thoughts plaguing your mind into coherent words. “Do you have any idea if Yeosang is also inclined in the arts?”

The arts, meaning dancing and singing. There was a fat pause on the other side of the room. You heard Jongho sigh, the springs of your bed sinking down as he sat on it. “Yeah, he is,” he confirmed. “You’re going to find out the rest by yourself, I’m not willing to divulge the rest.”

“No, that’s all I wanted to know. He literally wouldn’t touch me with a ten-feet poll, let alone tell me the juicy details of his life,” you snorted. “Hell, I don’t even know what the guy looks like.”

Yunho made a sound, likely thinking the same thing as you were at the same time as you heard movement on the bed once more. And he asked the same question you had in your head, “Do you know what he looks like?”

“Of course, I do,” Jongho said incredulously as if he was offended that he was even asked in the first place, until he realized the reason. “Well—“

”Wait,” you interrupted abruptly. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, I will not disrespect his privacy unless he tells me himself.”

You were tempted, who wouldn’t be? Your big, beaming crush on the guy, alone, was enough for you to be curious to know what’s underneath, but it just felt wrong.

They both laughed out loud the moment you opened the door to go back in the room. “Damn, you’re down bad,” Yunho slapped his thighs in amusement as he laughed even more.

“Haha,” your voice dripped with sarcasm. You went past them to grab your things and headed towards the door. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know if you guys end up fucking or something,” Jongho gagged exaggeratingly, making Yunho laugh even harder, his entire body contorting with how hard he was laughing.

When you started driving, your brows shot up in mild surprise when you realized that Yeosang’s place was a lot closer than you thought it was. In fact, if you jacked on the gas, you could get there within ten minutes.

Your hands gripped on the wheel the more your mind worked on itself - there was a huge possibility that you and Yeosang crossed each other’s path at one point and you just never knew. Heat pools in your tummy, he could have been one of the people you encountered everyday and you would be none the wiser because of the mask.

You arrived in no time, and you parked in an even lesser time. An impressive whistle slipped past your lips, this meant that you were on the better side of the city with how easy the accommodation was. When you looked around, every single building looked more modern and sleeker, too.

And you were right. Your mouth hung open ever so slightly when you realized that you were in the affluent area of the city. By all means, you were fortunate to grow up comfortably, but you could still never afford to live in one of the units where Yeosang apparently resided. What’s more, is that he said he lived alone.

You quickly sent a text to him that you were here and put your phone back in your pockets after that quick text. Shame crept in your bones when you looked at your outfit. Had you known that this was where you’d end up going, you would have worn that black dress because as drab as it was, it was elegant enough to fit the opulent vibe of the place. Soon enough, your phone vibrated.

‘Walk in and go straight to the receptionist. Give them my name and press ‘50’ when she leads you to the elevators. It’ll take you directly inside my unit. Don’t forget to take your filthy shoes off.'

You ignored the last statement, your jaw slacking further when you read the message over and over again. Who the hell does that? Geez, you thought incredulously, who the hell has a unit literally connected to the elevators?

But you followed his instructions, anyway. And in no time, the receptionist was leading towards said elevators. She gave you a kind smile as the doors opened and you bowed back politely. The moment you pressed the number, you leaned your back against the walls of the metal box.

It was the last floor on the very top, it made sense that it led directly in his unit. That also meant he had the penthouse. You felt your body ascend slowly, and the best thing you could do was fix your clothes and your hair to make yourself a bit more presentable.

You started to imagine what Yeosang’s space would look like, but more so, you were just curious on what a penthouse would look like since you’ve never been to one before. You scoffed under your breath, Yeosang did seem the type to live in penthouses.

You weren’t expecting anything in general, but however, the last thing you expected was a small presence waiting for you the moment the elevator dinged and the doors parted.

There it was, with its head tilted, looking at you curiously as you cautiously stepped in Yeosang’s space. This must be the dog, but it wasn’t just a dog.

You gulped, knees threatening to buckle under your weight, when the dog started to walk forward and sniff your feet, your legs, back to your feet. It definitely intimidated you as you tried to stay absolutely still.

Yeosang conveniently forgot to tell you that he had a Great Dane. It was so big that if it stood on two paws, it would tower over you.

But all those worries faded away when it yelped a happy yelp and laid down on its back. Her, you found out soon enough, tail wagged back and forth in glee and excitement as her eyes looked up at you, pleading for you to lean down and give her the belly rubs she so wanted.

Who were you to say no to that?

“Who’s the good girl?! You are, yes, you are,” you giggled incessantly, your hand rubbing on her sweet tummy while your other hand found its way behind her ear. Her happy barks reached your ears and it prompted you to rub faster.

You completely sat down on the floor and patted your thighs. ”Aww, c’mere, you sweet pup, come…”

Your landlord has strict rules against pets, which was such a shame because Jongho wouldn’t have to leave his Persian to his parents and Yunho wouldn’t be going out every so often to spend time with his Golden Retriever at his brother’s place.

”I see you met Nabi.”

You jumped out, startled at the deep, muffled voice that intruded your well-needed little pup therapy. It also startled the dog, whose head rested on your lap, and you couldn't help but feel bad. You were about to give Yeosang a piece of your mind, but when you turned around, you wanted to whine just like her, maybe a bit worse.

He still wore that mask, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Yeosang leaned casually against the wall behind you, his hair was completely unstyled, a stark contrast to the prim and proper hair he sported on campus.

But what really got you was his even more casual outfit, it was dangerous. He wore a body-fitting tank top, and you tried not to drool at his exposed arms and the way they absolutely flexed whenever he moved even a single inch. Your eyes traced the veins that were deliciously spread all throughout his hands all the way to his forearms.

And by God, the way his sweatpants hung alarmingly low against his hip bones. And then, his brow slowly lifted, his eyes shining in mischief. It was your cue to look away in shame, because you knew that he knew.

You didn’t say anything when he leaned down, lifting the mid-ends of his pants as he squatted down. He looked you in the eye as his hands slowly started to rub the back of Nabi’s other ear.

”That’s a good girl,” he whispered.

You didn’t even know what to say, you can’t just assume that he was doing what you thought he was actually doing. You stayed silent, not breaking eye contact with him until he stood back up and walked inside.

“Go sit on the couch so you can settle down. You can leave your things on the coffee table,” he murmured, Nabi hot on his tail as he walked away.

If it wasn’t even more possible, your jaw dropped when you finally took in the interior of the penthouse. It was the epitome of opulence and luxury. The theme was the classic marbled black-and-white overalls, the space was neat, and if it wasn’t for the crystal chandelier hanging from above you, you would have spent more time just looking around. Not to mention, the grand staircase towards the corner that leads to the second floor.

Yeosang stood by the kitchenette, tinkering at whatever. It was state-of-the-art, but what really made you fall in love was the huge glass window behind him that overlooked the entire city. You bet it would look stunning during nighttime.

Despite your awe, you couldn’t help but blurt out, ”Who are you?”

”Uh, Kang Yeosang,” he replied absentmindedly. Your lips quivered in an effort to not chuckle, “Anything to drink?”

“Just water,” you replied.

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I should have specified for you to also bring your brain when you come. You didn’t come all the way here for just water.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes in offense. “Coffee, then?”

You expected him to say ‘no’ and tell you to, frankly, to fuck off and be serious, but your heart thumped in your chest when he immediately went to work without saying anything.

You watched him move as he grabbed a cup and set it down. It made sense now, he’s always had this elegance to him when he moved and talked, even though he was rude most of the time, and he had this air of grandeur to him that you couldn’t explain.

Your heart was close to flatlining when he wordlessly gave you the freshly made cup of coffee, and it tasted exactly like the one you always order at the cafe you and him always meet up for the project.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He hummed in response, setting himself down on the couch across you and relaxing into it. You took great effort to ignore his arms once more. “I think I have an idea on what to do for the project,” he said, directly to the point. “If you’re okay with it.”

You breath hitched, He’s never wanted your approval before. You stared at him expectantly and waited for him to continue. “Don’t make fun of me,” he blurted out. The way he wrung his hands together gave out his nervousness. “Maybe we could just sing a song together.”

You almost dropped the cup on the table that probably cost more than your life. You were expecting a lot of things, but you weren’t expecting that. But then again, Jongho did say Yeosang was inclined in the arts.

“Why would I make fun of that?” You asked truthfully with genuine confusion. “That sounds like a lovely idea. I was in choir until middle school, it’s good on my end.”

Yeosang didn’t say anything. He stared at you deeply, intently. His eyes held something you’ve never seen before - vulnerability. You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, one you knew he wouldn’t reciprocate, but you did it, anyway.

But he did. Even though you couldn’t see his lips, his eyes squinted at the gesture. Just about when your heart was about to give out, you just had to find out that Yeosang’s eyes smiled with him.

“Can I tell you something?” Yeosang asked, softness coating his voice, his body visibly relaxing even more from where he sat.

“You can tell me anything,” you chirped up. “What friends are for, right?”

His eyes drooped, hooding ever so slightly before he shook his head, a deep chuckle escaping from his lips. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming, you believed this was the first time that he actually produced such a sound without being sarcastic or pretentious.

“You are definitely something, Y/N,” he whispered, more to himself, but you heard it. “Anyway, I know how to sing. Uhm, I was training to be an idol. I did it for years before stopping entirely.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heat coursing through your veins at the newfound information that you also realized that Yeosang divulged by his own accord. You cleared your throat to cover the blush that spread through your cheeks and ears. You would literally kill anyone and anything to be able to witness Yeosang as an idol.

”Was? Is there a reason why you stopped?” You asked softly, trying to be as respectful as you possibly can so you wouldn’t turn him off. The last thing you wanted was to make him feel like you were trying to intrude.

He paused, sighing deeply and exhaling slowly as he closed his eyes and leaned his back down the couch, almost slouching. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled.

“Okay,” you conceded, nodding towards him.

He opened one eye, staring at you from his peripheral vision. You tried to ignore how long his lashes were even from where you were. “Just like that? You’re not going to ask me why?”

You were taken aback, beyond confused at what he was insinuating. Your heart bled for this man, just what has he gone through?

”Uhm, no, why should I? It’s disrespectful,” you supplied truthfully. “You’re not obligated to tell me, or anyone in general, anything. You don’t owe me, but I’ll lend you an ear whenever you are ready.”

He stared at you with clouded eyes. The thing with Yeosang that you liked was that he wasn’t a liar - what you see with him is what you get - but this time, you couldn’t decipher what lay beneath those enthralling eyes. The closest would be soul-searching but you’d have to be a fool to actually believe that.

The longer he stared, the more it morphed, transforming into something you finally understood. They were full of hope, those bright eyes shining and reflecting your faltering gaze. Yeosang was the hope that whispered of the sun.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing vertically at the motion. “Would you like to start over with me?” Yeosang scoots closer and juts his hand out for you to take. “Hi, I’m Kang Yeosang.”

You tilted your head, smiling through your teeth as you took his hand, squeezing it lightly as you shook it. “L/N Y/N.”

Things were never truly the same after that. Yeosang’s mouth, as kissable as it looked, was still brutish and blunt, and you were still that blubbering mess around him whenever he’d get a bit too close for comfort, but everything has changed.

You’d keep coming back to his place and Yeosang would always invite you under the pretense of practicing for the performance, but the two of you always ended up doing something else, instead; something more fun.

There was nothing set in stone, the other day, he showed you his drone collection and even let you fly one of them since you mentioned offhandedly that you’ve never tried to before.

Needless to say, you had no talent for this. You had a heavy hand with no coordination.

”Hey, hey, if you break that, I’ll break you,” he hissed when you accidentally manoeuvered the flying robot by mistake and almost crashed it onto the nearby concrete wall.

”I-I’m sorry,” you blurted out, trying hard to set it down before you damaged it. You knew it cost a pretty penny. The both of you were currently on his balcony, fifty stories high. One wrong move could make it crash all the way down.

He sighed exasperatedly, gesturing for you to come closer. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

You were expecting him to just take the remote control away from you, but you were rendered speechless when he pulled your arm and guided you in front of him. He positioned himself comfortably behind you, his hand grabbing onto yours as he did, indeed, help you with the drone.

”The trick is to be gentle with this button,” he murmured, breath tickling the shell of your ear, his fingers guiding yours on said button.

You were surprised you didn’t disintegrate on the spot. What could have, however, was when you tried to teach Yeosang how to cook the next time.

You didn’t start out being a good cook, but living with Jongho and Yunho taught you over the years. Yunho could burn water and Jongho always spent an exorbitant amount of money on take-outs that didn’t even offer an ounce of health in them.

“You’re literally doing well,” you cheered him on as he tried to toss the ingredients for the pasta dish you were guiding him to make for lunch. “It’s easy, isn’t it?”

”Sure,” he sneered, startling himself when the oil in the pan began to crackle. “If you’re trying to get food poisoning, it is.”

”Stop setting yourself up for failure,” you rolled your eyes. You nudged a bottle towards him, sliding it against the counter for him to take. “Here, wine. Take it.”

You snorted at the wild and confused look on his face as he tried to sauté some shrimp. “I don’t drink,” he sputtered out.

It was moments like these that prevent you from regretting how bad you two started from before. If you knew you’d always end up here, you would do it all over again without any hesitation. You laughed, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. That was another thing, skinship wasn’t lost on the both of you now.

”No, dummy,” you laughed. “It’s for the pasta. Pour a little to deglaze the pan, it’s good for flavour.��

He still looked confused, but ,nonetheless, still grabbed the bottle. It shouldn’t be difficult, right?

“W-Wait, Yeosang, do it slowly, wait—-“

But it was too late. He had managed to pour half of its content straight onto the pan, causing blue fire to rise up and almost hit both of you in the face.

“The fuck was that? Was that normal?” Yeosang hissed, tentatively stepping back from the flames.

”Well, no, you were supposed to do it slowly—-”

”Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

”Because it was common sense!”

It became a routine, minus the drones - you were definitely going to break them one way or another. It was so easy to fall for this man, but it was also so easy to get your heart broken by the same man.

He even lets you take Nabi out for a walk when he’d get too tired to do so. You took that task proudly and quite seriously.

”Wouldn’t want your dad laying it out on me now,” you’d giggle while giving Nabi the ear rubs you knew she loved.

You get it, though. Nabi was one energetic pup, and on one particular day where she wore you out, you didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep on the couch, not that Yeosang minded. You knew that he didn’t mind.

Your eyes started to flutter awake, still dazed from that afternoon nap that you took, but then you realized what actually woke you up.

Everything came to you bit by bit. They say that the first thing to come and leave both in life and death was the sense of touch. It was soft, you noticed. And warm. You were laying on soft, pillowy thighs. Dazed as you were, you weren’t an all-rounder idiot; you knew it was Yeosang’s. You smile to yourself, you knew you didn’t fall asleep on his lap earlier.

But you were completely done for when you felt a hand, fingers to be specific, run slowly through your hair over and over again. You wanted to groan in contentment, no wonder Nabi likes rubs.

What truly woke you up, however, was his voice. Shivers traveled your arms all the way to your neck, you didn’t even need to strain your ears; Yeosang was singing. It was the song you’d both decided to perform, but you’d actually never heard him try and sing it before.

It waa supposed to be a jolly tune, something awe-inspiring, but when it came from him, it sounded almost melancholic akin to a lullaby meant to reminisce rather than fill your heart with merry and joy.

He stopped, so did his fingers. “I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

You pouted, wanting to hear more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you rose up from his lap, your body protesting from the lack of his warmth, voice hoarse from the prolonged unuse. “How long have I been sleeping on your lap?”

He stared at you like he always did, and you wanted to know why because its intensity was strong, but it was impossible to know without asking, because in truth, you were scared to find out.

“You should just stay for the night,” he mumbled, sitting straight up, his form rigid. “I have a guest room upstairs, and frankly, I feel uncomfortable letting you drive out this late.”

Looking around, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that it was well late into the night even though your mind wasn’t all there yet. You gulped, the offer was too tempting to not consider, but you had to go. You just knew that you weren’t going to sleep properly if you stayed.

Yeosang sighed deeply, standing up straight to face you. “Let me walk you to your car, then.”

You blushed in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the hesitation on your face. “O-Oh, there’s really no need—-”

”Let me walk you to your car, at least,” he repeated, one brow arched, his voice firmer and more resolute. It left you no room for any arguments. “Here.”

A startled ‘oof’ leaves your lips when the hoodie that he threw at you hits you square in the face. He rolled his eyes dramatically when you stared at it as if it were an abomination. He snatched it back harshly.

”God, it’s like taking care of a fucking child with you. Raise your arms,” he clicked his tongue, putting his hoodie on for you, looping your arms carefully in.

If asking to stay the night wasn’t intimate enough for you, this definitely was. When he was done, he held your hand and started guiding you outside. It would have been funny, since it looked like a parent leading their unruly child, if you didn’t feel like you were going to combust on the spot.

It felt like you were on autopilot. Even when you sat in your car, your muscles felt so rigid and robotic. When he leaned down from the outside, his head peeking at you by the window, his toned arms hanging and leaning on the roof. “Drive safe, yeah?”

”W-what about this?”

You bunched up the hoodie in an attempt to take it off, but he stopped you. “Return it next time,” he mumbled.

You nodded, and he returned it with a curt one, patting the roof of your car before he turned around and jogged back inside. You felt slightly bad, he did give you his hoodie, after all, and he only had a tank top on.

You were completely out of it when you drove home, to the point that you reached your apartment without even realizing it. A silent scream threatens to escape your mouth as you bumped your forehead on the steering wheel, there was a faint blush on your cheeks at everything that happened.

You slept on your crush’s lap, and you even got to wear his hoodie.

You carefully closed your bedroom door so as not to disturb Jongho and Yunho, who you knew were both sleeping since it was late, and as if it was timed, your phone vibrated in your pockets. You didn’t need to look at the ID to know who it was.

“Did you get home safely?” Yeosang’s comforting voice floods your ears, effectively soothing you and making you smile.

“Mhhm,” you hummed exhaustedly, taking your pants off, but not the hoodie, and plopping down unceremoniously on your bed. “You’re worried about me, the world must be ending soon.”

He mumbled a curse so crass, it made you giggle under your breath. “If you die on the way back, who would be my source of entertainment?” Yeosang deadpanned. A shuffling sound on his end tells you that he’s also laying down on his bed. “I’ll be bored.”

“Wow. Good to know I’m nothing but your source of fun,” you scoffed.

“What can I say? Your misery feeds my fun,” he flatly said. There was a pause on the line before a small sigh sounded. “Princess?”

That nickname will always make your heart sing no matter how much time passes. You hummed in response. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to come over again tomorrow? Forget about the project for a while, I just want to watch a movie with you,” he murmured.

Your heart warmed, you’ve never heard him sound like this before. You’ve made up your mind before he even finished talking. “Only if you let me choose the movie,” you grinned.

”Deal,” he laughed. “I’ll pick you up in the afternoon, sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” you affirmed, kicking your feet up in the air repeatedly. You reckon you resembled a flopping fish out of water right now, but you could care less. You had to bite onto your fist to stop yourself from screaming at the top of your lungs.

He said goodnight and was about to hang up, when you stopped him. “Yeosang.”

He hummed, clearly off guard at the sound of his name. “You have a beautiful voice,” you whispered, referring to his singing when you woke up from your nap. “You would have been a fantastic idol.”

He chuckled. “Good night, princess.”

You hugged your phone close to your chest, a grin stretching out from your lips so wide, your mouth was starting to ache a bit, but the high and ecstasy wasn’t going to go down easily.

Tonight, sleep came easily to you. Yeosang’s hoodie comforted you, wrapped you in the solace you didn’t know you were missing. His scent gave you the calm that you didn’t mind getting off of.

And tomorrow couldn’t have come any faster. You didn’t tell Jongho and Yunho what you were going to do - the teasing would only get worse from then on - but they did give you odd looks here and there.

“Nice hoodie,” Jongho commented out of the blue while you were waiting for Yeosang. He squints his eyes. “It looks familiar, though. Where’d you buy it?”

“I didn’t buy it,” you replied cryptically, earning you a side-glance from Yunho this time.

He was about to say something when you heard a car engine pull up directly in front of your apartment. The three of you lived on the first floor, so that perk was there. You jumped up excitedly, hastily picking up your purse before dashing out.

”I’ll see you guys later—-” you tried to say before you got pulled back, a hand tugging your arm backwards.

”Hold the hell on, you have a date?” Yunho blurted out, a flabbergasted look on his face present. “Why am I finding this out just now?”

He gives Jongho a look, and the latter’s eyes narrow even further. Jongho’s brow raises before he stalks towards the door. “Let me size up this fucker,” he sneers, cracking his knuckles loudly.

You wiggled your arm free from Yunho to pull Jongho away from the door so you could get out. Your best friends were protective like that.

“Get back here,” Jongho called out, opening the door wide so he could chase you down. “You can’t just—-wait.”

You were confused, Jongho’s intimidating aura slowly slips out and gives way to confusion all the way to realization. He blanched, face slightly pale as he stared at the car parked just a couple of metres away from where we stood.

The car window was already open, and Yeosang was already staring at Jongho. He nods once before closing it once again.

“I should have known,” he mumbled, voice dejected before giving you a tight smile. “Call when you need anything.”

He quickly went inside, followed by Yunho who whispered to you the same thing. “Have fun,” he waved before he closed the door.

Yeosang didn't say anything as you both drove away. It wasn’t an awkward type of silence, but you didn’t have the need to fill it. You wanted to give him some space, the way he gripped the steering wheel repeatedly told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you spent the entire time chastising yourself because your eyes kept traveling at his hands and his face from your peripheral vision. You chose to look out the window, his veiny arms were distracting you a little too much.

He still had the mask on his face but honestly, you didn’t care less anymore. You couldn’t help but also stare at the way he was dressed. He was in casual wear, nothing special, but the way it emphasized his toned chest yet tiny waist got you sweating even though it was quite cool inside the luxurious car he was driving.

“There’s a drive through nearby. I want to get coffee,” he finally spoke. The softness in his voice made your heart pound, it boosted the already intimate setting of being in a car with him.

”Are you going to let me pay for us?” You asked rhetorically.

”Of course,” he shrugged, and you were about to celebrate until he continued. “Of course not.”

You rolled your eyes, an exasperated groan of frustration leaving your lips. The sound makes Yeosang laugh out loud, and he was still laughing even when the drive through speaker crackled on. Cute.

This was dangerous. You stared at him as he spoke, his deep voice rumbling. It wasn’t fair that his side profile looked this ethereal, but it also wasn’t fair that your heart was slowly giving in to its demands little by little. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted, he just knew what you needed.

“Thank you,” you murmured in gratitude when he handed you your iced latte. You grit your teeth when your hands brushed with his as you tried to grab the cup.

The same hand lands gently on your thigh. You thought it was just him being him and he was absentmindedly doing it, but when the searing heat from his palms didn’t relinquish any relief, you couldn’t help but smirk to hide the growing tingle in between your thighs.

”Getting comfortable there,” you said, trying very, very hard not to look at his veiny, masculine hands. It turned you on to no end.

”Does it bother you?” Yeosang asked, not bothering to look at you since he was actually driving. You gulped, the sight of him driving with one hand increased the tingling sensation down there.

“No,” you lied. “Not at all.”

He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze before he resorted to just drawing random lines on it. He made a small sound of surprise. “You work out?”

You blinked repeatedly, not really understanding what he was saying at first. “What? O-Oh, I used to do gymnastics in high school,” you revealed. The activity has made your thighs and legs toned even though you haven’t done heavy routines in a while.

”Used to? How come?”

“Had a nasty concussion. Plus, college was keeping me busy, anyway.”

“Ah,” he acknowledged with a small smirk. “I knew you hit your head somewhere along the line—-”

You playfully pushed his hand away from your thigh. “You ass.”

He laughed, his deep voice rumbling through the small space of the car, and knocking into your heart, as he pulled in in the familiar section of his apartment that led to the parking lot.

The appreciation you had for this man knew no bounds. During the walk back to his penthouse, no words needed to be said. This was how it was with him, and you didn’t mind at all. The silence was already telling enough.

“Do you like the hoodie?” Yeosang asked the moment he closed the door behind him.

“I do,” you admitted, grinning as you rubbed Nabi’s beautiful fur, your fingers trailing to the spot behind her ears you knew brought her joy. “Hey, girl.”

”I see,” he murmured, passing you, but not before patting Nabi’s head, and walked towards the staircase. “Follow me,” he beckoned you over with a small wave of his hand.

”Where to?” You asked, following him anyway, albeit reluctantly.

As you climbed the stairs, something you’ve never done before, let alone go near since you didn’t want to just invade Yeosang’s privacy, especially since you knew that his personal bedroom was located on the second floor of the penthouse.

You will never get used to how simply gorgeous his space was. If you thought that the first floor where his living room was located was jaw-dropping, the second floor was something out-of-this-world. You were able to see the grand chandelier even closer in this section of the penthouse.

Multiple paintings you knew weren’t just ordinary art hung around the walls, which were made out of opulent marble, the swirls of black and white giving the space an elegance you knew cannot just be replicated and duplicated just because.

”Wow,” you whispered, not able to stop yourself in awe.

”Like what you see?” Yeosang asked, his hand absentmindedly trailing over the walls as you both still walked on, you just followed him wherever he took you.

It didn’t take long, and once again, you were in for a wild ride. Soon, the overall theme of the second floor had changed from something bright, to something just a bit darker. The swirled marble of the walls gave way to something pure black, and that included all the paintings, vase, and furniture that surrounded the area.

“Is this your room? Wow,” you remarked like a little kid in a candy store.

”No,” he shook his head, opening the door to one of the rooms. “This is just a spare bedroom, really. Nobody’s ever used it, so I just store all my old stuff in here.”

You frowned at him. “Nobody? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

You weren’t lying when you said that. You truly found it hard to believe that he has never brought anybody in, whether it be just a couple of close friends, or even a past fling or some hookups. The last sting of thoughts brought on a horrible churning that started deep in your gut area.

”Well, considering that you were the first one I’ve ever willingly brought here, I’d say it’s not really difficult to comprehend,” he shrugged. “My, uhm, father used to own this before he bought another unit. He would use it for his business.”

You stayed silent, following him inside the bedroom, not anymore surprised to find a large theater setup occupying most of the space. This was another instance of him slowly giving you bits and pieces of his life willingly, and you wanted so badly to ask more about what his family business was, but you didn’t. You didn’t miss the way his eyes faltered when he mentioned it.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had, I don’t know,” you bit your lip. “Flings, perhaps?”

”Of course I did,” he raised an offended brow. “I’m not a eunuch, and not to brag, but I’m not that bad looking.”

You blushed. Yeosang’s part down there was the last thing you’d ever want to think about.

“But I’ve never brought them here,” he continued cryptically, his voice not leaving you any thoughts of questioning him, so you decided to let it slide. “Anyway, I’m going to get the snacks downstairs, why don’t you pick a movie?”

You nodded, getting to your feet and caught the remote that he had thrown your way with surprising reflexes. “What movies are you into?”

“I don’t give a shit, really,” he mumbled, walking away to your devices, and for once, you were glad he was walking away. The blush on your cheeks would just never leave.

You took this opportunity to try and calm yourself as much as you possibly could. Your corrupted brain was pushing this as a possible date between you and Yeosang, and luckily, the sentient part of it kept pushing that thought back, but it was getting more and more difficult to do so. How could you not? You were in the comfort of his home, in one of his rooms, and in a place where he’s never brought anyone before. Or so he says.

You weren't surprised to find a sizable selection for the movies. He had a state-of-the-art setup, you’d be pretty surprised if he didn’t. He told you to pick whatever you liked, but you weren’t the insensitive type, you wanted him to have a say in it, too.

You were about to sit down and just wait for him to come back when your foot had accidentally gotten caught on something when you tried to sit on the bed. You tried to see what it was and your brows lifted in surprise when you realized that you had tripped on a small box.

It was conspicuously tucked away underneath the bed, but the edge of it was slightly jutted out. You didn’t think much of it, you figured that Yeosang had stored other things in here. Maybe there were other movie selections that he’d kept in here.

So when you grabbed the box and opened it, you just simply weren’t expecting what you’d find. You were gravely mistaken, there were no movies in there. You wanted to hit yourself, of course there wouldn’t be, DVDs were a thing of the past!

There was a piece of paper on top of everything. You inspected it carefully, and you realized that there was a name in it. A girl’s name. You frowned, that was the name of the girl who was picked last for the project.

You gasped, dropping the piece of paper in realization. Professor Choi did not accidentally put your name twice in that box.

You rummaged more to see what was in the box. Instead, there were photos - multiple of them. Your eyes weren’t completely taking everything in, but there were a myriad of photographs that ranged from professionally printed ones all the way to the wallet-sized polaroid prints.

You bit your lip. You really shouldn’t be doing this, you were invading Yeosang’s privacy, and whether he said it or not, you knew that he appreciated that you didn’t pry on the things he wasn’t ready to tell you.

You wanted badly to know more about Yeosang, but you knew this wasn’t the way to go about it. The box needed to go, and it was about to, but then, you spotted a particular photo that got your attention. You glanced at the door, and with a shaky hand, you took that photo to stare at it closer.

The lump in your throat was making it difficult for you to breathe, you were nervous, but there was no going back from this. That wasn’t all, however, it was mostly the photo in your hand.

There were two people in the photo you were holding, one of which you’ve never seen before. He was quite handsome, you noted. He had the biggest grin on his face that made him look so young, you could barely see his face, that’s how wide he was smiling. Had the situation been different, you would have been fascinated by how much he resembled a fox.

And then, there was Yeosang. In an unfortunate coincidence, you picked up a photo where he was still covering half of his face, but this time, it wasn’t by a mask, it was his hands. This photo must have been taken mid-laughter by somebody else.

You’ve never seen him this happy before. His eyes were also smiling, but one thing that absolutely got you was that when you looked closer, you were pleasantly surprised to find a small birthmark on the side of his face. You realized that he must’ve been covering it lately with makeup.

When you turned the photo around, there was a name in there. Jung Wooyoung. And there was a note in there too, one that you knew to be Yeosang’s handwriting.

There were only four words written on it - I am so sorry.

You swallowed, clearly, you weren’t supposed to see this. You suddenly remembered Jongho’s words from before - something had happened that made him the way he was now.

Shame crept in from the bottom of your heart, you had to pretend that you didn’t see any of this, you had to put the box back the way you found it and forget that you ever saw that picture. But it was too late.

”What the fuck are you doing?”

You gasped, jumping up from where you were seated down, causing the box to fall from your lap, exposing what you were doing, which was basically snooping in on his privacy against his will and without his permission.

The snacks he was carrying was long forgotten on the floor, for he must’ve dropped it after seeing you look through the photos.

You were devastated, but he looked even more devastated as he stood from where he was standing, staring at you with the most disappointed eyes. That was the worst part - he didn’t seem angry, not at all. He looked absolutely broken, and it was your fault.

“Y-Yeosang,” you called out, voice wavering as you felt your tears slowly forming in your eyes. “I c-can explain, please—-”

He looked down at the floor, completely avoiding eye contact with you. Only his fists were moving, they were actively shaking. He had a lump in his throat that he gulped in, albeit with difficulty.

”How could you do this to me?” Yeosang questioned, his voice laced with an unmistakable hint of pain and hurt. He lifted his head, and heart felt like it was getting pulled out of your chest. “How could you?”

You tried walking towards, the photos on the floor long forgotten, but he raised a palm to stop you. “Yeosang,” you called out once more, your desperation seeping out from you.

”I thought you were different,” he chuckled bitterly. He pressed the heel of his palms on his eyes as if he was trying to soothe an oncoming migraine. “But it turns out, you were the worst of them all.”

Your lips quivered, of all the things he had said to you, the things he had insulted you with, this one statement stung the most, mainly because you knew it to be true. You shook your head desperately. “You know it’s not like that,” you cried, ashamed because you didn’t want to lose him, not like this. “I am so, so sorry, Yeosang, please forgive me, I know I was wrong, please.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Y/N,” he commanded venomously, pointing a shaking finger on the direction away from the room. He exhaled a shaky breath. “I never want to see you again.”

That was when your tears started to fall from your eyes. “Don’t say that,” you sobbed. “P-Please don’t say that—“

”Y/N, you know what hurts the most right now?” Yeosang spat out, running a hand on his hair in frustration. “I could handle the daily insults I hear at campus every single day. That’s fine, I don’t owe anyone an explanation, they can say whatever they want.”

”But you,” he gritted his teeth. “I trusted you, more than I’ve ever come to trust myself,” he took a shaky breath in. “I let you in. The thing that hurts me the most is that I’ve come to care for you. I care about you, Y/N. Do you have any idea how much I want to slap myself right now?”

“You’re right, I am so sorry,” your entire body was shaking, your legs almost threatening to give out. “I’m so sorry, Yeosang, please—-”

“You made me look like an idiot,” he declared. “Get out. Please. I won’t tell you again.”

He turned around to walk away, but your impulses took action by suddenly running forward to give Yeosang a hug from behind. He freezes from the action, but all that did was make you hug him tighter.

”Please, don’t push me away, not like this,” your tears were free-falling, soaking his shirt. “I’m begging you, please.”

“Goddamn it, you have no right to do this right now,” he snapped, grabbing your hand to pry it away from himself before grabbing you by the arm and callously dragging you downstairs.

”Yeosang, stop it, stop—-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he hissed, grabbing onto your arm tighter, so tight you were sure he’d leave marks on it hours from now, dragging you roughly, not caring if you stumbled and tripped along the way.

He pulls on his door, giving you one last look before completely pushing you out so harshly, you fell on the floor of the elevator that will lead you out. You looked up at him, fat tears still rolling down your eyes, and he looked straight at you without any emotion as he pressed down the button.

It still didn’t hit you, not until the elevator doors opened again and you realized that you were back in the parking lot. You walked out with your wobbly legs as far as it could take you before completely breaking down on the nearby wall, slumping down and hugging your legs together as you wailed your heart out.

You shouldn’t have done it. He had every right to be furious with you right now, and there was no repairing this, you had broken his trust and that’s not something that would ever be the same again even if you gained it back.

The rain from above had begun to mix with your tears and soon enough, you were completely soaked from head to toe. You were so deep in your despair that you didn’t even realize that it had begun raining.

Yeosang’s hoodie did nothing to shield you from the bitter cold. There was only so much your body could take until you had begun shivering, and stupidly, you waited a little thinking that maybe, just maybe, Yeosang would change his mind, especially since you didn’t drive here yourself.

But you knew it was never going to happen. Shaking, you got your phone out and dialed the first number that you saw first. You were sniffling hard, your teeth chattering, sobs broken with hiccups here and there.

“Hello?” Yunho’s sweet and comforting voice came through the line.

“Y-Yunho,” you uttered in broken sobs. “C-Can you please pick me up? I need help.”

“Y/N? Are you okay? Hang on,” his frantic voice asked. “Tell me the address, do not go anywhere. I’m on my way.”

You tried your best to describe the location to him before hanging up. You were glad it was Yunho, his name was eerily close to Yeosang’s in your contact list.

You didn’t notice that car that pulled up directly in front of you, startling yourself when an arm started to help you up, handling you with such care you wanted to cry all over again.

“I got you, I got you,” he reassured, not caring if he got wet by the rain, let alone get his car soaked when you sat inside.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Yunho tried to ask, driving out of the parking lot as soon as he possibly could.

You could only shake your head, the words you wanted to tell him caught in your throat. A hoarse and grating sound from your mouth escaped, instead, your lungs wheezing for air the moment your tears started to fall again. The only thing Yunho could do was be patient, even though the sight of you sobbing your heart out squeezed his own.

It had to be bad, he thought. You were never one to cry, you and Jongho were similar in that aspect while he was the odd one out since he was very easily touched. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his foot unconsciously stepping on the gas in an attempt to get back to the apartment faster.

He got out of the car in record speed to pound on the apartment door. An annoyed, but confused, Jongho answered. “Go to my car,” he panted. Jongho was about to ask when Yunho cut him off. “It’s Y/N, it’s really bad, Jjong.”

No words need to be said. Jongho moved past him, not even bothering to put on any shoes, as he ran to his car and practically flung the door open. You felt yourself getting carried, but you didn’t bother to look up, your tears blurring your vision, anyway.

“Bathroom,” Yunho said, sighing in concern as he watched Jongho carry you in his arms. “Do it quickly, she was shivering really bad when I picked her up…”

Jongho laid you down on the tub and began filling it with water so you wouldn’t get sick from the rain while Yunho did his best to tuck your hair out of your face as much as possible and helped you out of the hoodie that was weighing your body down. Deep in your heart, you knew that you owe these two forever.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho questioned, the anger in his voice straining his own throat. “I’m going to strangle him. Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, Jongho had to hold you by the shoulders and shake you a bit. “Did he fucking hurt you?”

“Jongho, cut it out, you’re scaring her,” Yunho hissed, prying the latter’s hands off of you in a rare show of his own anger. He kneeled down, gently holding your eyes with his own. “Y/N? I need you to tell us what happened.”

And so you did. It was difficult on your part because you had to retell everything that happened. The longer you talked, the more pitiful you looked - your voice was almost gone, your cheeks sullen and pale, and your eyes rimmed with reddish and purplish hues due to crying. You could see it in their faces that they agreed with the one thing you told them after - that it was, indeed, your fault.

“You didn’t know, okay?” Jongho held your head firmly. “You didn’t know. I should’ve emphasized how fucked up he is before you approached him. ”

“Do you know what’s in the box?” Yunho asked curiously.

You hesitated before answering. “A name. Jung Wooyoung.”

Jongho froze, his hands on his head automatically pulling away as if you had burned him. It pretty much confirmed what you already had in mind - the name had something to do with why Yeosang was the way he was.

All the anger he had simmered down faster than you realized. “I see,” Jongho sighed. “That makes a lot of sense now. Wooyoung is very, very important to Yeosang.”

“Still,” Yunho murmured. “How important has this guy gotta be for him to kick her out like an asshole?”

“Very important,” Jongho deadpanned. He heaved a weighted sigh, completely slumping down on the floor beside the tub. “Wooyoung is Yeosang’s half-brother.“

That night, you already knew that you weren’t feeling the best. There was so much information in your head that you wanted to completely forget for now, but how would you do that when even your own body was reminding you about what had happened today?

If Yeosang forgave you one day, you knew you’d still live with the guilt as long as you’re alive.

You had to skip your classes the next day. As you suspected - more like expected - you had raging fever and there was no way you would be able to go anyway, Yunho guarded your door like a hound.

There was a lot of berating on his end, and admittedly, while it was fascinating to see, the sweet Jeong Yunho had disappeared for a bit when you heard an earful from him when you wouldn’t drink your medicine or eat the soup he bought.

But you had to go the day after that. There was only so much leeway Professor Park could give you without you having to take more extracurricular activities after. The project alone was daunting enough.

That was another thing. You had to tell him that this project with Yeosang might be over and that there was a huge possibility that you were opting out now before it even started.

Your phone kept vibrating in between your classes. You knew it was Yunho reminding you to take it easy. Or perhaps, it was Jongho looking for you. You were actively avoiding him because you knew you’d receive an earful too. Between the two, he was definitely more overprotective.

It was pointless, you couldn’t concentrate on anything. The pounding in your head just wasn’t going to go away in a day or two, even though you hoped it did, and your entire body just felt hot to the touch, sweat kept leaking out of your pores at an alarming rate.

You missed Yeosang already. You were so used to hanging out with him the moment you set foot on campus, and you could already hear the whispers of why you were alone while Yeosang was nowhere to be seen.

It certainly made you mad. The assumption was that you finally got sick of Yeosang and had finally opened your eyes to how weird he was. It wasn’t true at all, you wanted to scream at everyone to stop being judgmental, but you couldn’t even stand straight without toppling over.

It was getting difficult to not give in to your fever. You were walking through the hallways of the campus to get to your next class, not to actually go, but to tell your next professor that you couldn’t attend and needed to go home. You were at your limit, especially when you accidentally bumped into a girl in your class. Luckily, she wasn’t salty about it and asked you if you were okay, instead.

You wouldn’t get the opportunity to answer her. It all happened so fast, black spots were covering your vision and you felt your muscles going weak. Soon enough, your body just gave out on you, and you came tumbling over, passing out in this girl’s arms.

Yeosang saw everything. He hadn’t meant to, he usually took a different hallway to go to his classes since this one was very crowded, but something in his mind just kept telling him to pass through this one just once.

Nothing mattered to him at that moment. He dropped everything - his books, his coffee, his inhibitions, his anger - and ran towards you, not caring at all the stares he was getting. He didn’t care, not anymore, especially not when it came towards you.

He didn’t even realize that Jongho had gotten to you first. His childhood friend was kneeling on the floor, cradling your head to his chest, his hands tapping your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. He didn’t care about that either.

”Wait, what in God’s name are you doing?” Jongho was thoroughly surprised when Yeosang pushed him away and grabbed your limp body towards himself. He didn’t even have time to register anything when Yeosang began to carry you in one go as if you didn’t weigh anything.

“What does it look like?” Yeosang snapped. “I’m taking her—-”

“Hell no, you are not,” Jongho gritted his teeth, grabbing onto his arm to try and stop him. His explosion had already caught on to the other students, it was embarrassing.

Yeosang tried to shrug off Jongho’s hand, but he didn’t budge and held tighter. “You are the reason she is sick, bastard,” he hissed under his breath. He was about to say more, but he was caught off guard at the way Yeosang glared at him.

There was an intense, burning rage of fire in those eyes. He’s known Yeosang all his life, yet he has never seen this much emotion in his friend’s eyes. He was a no-nonsense type of man, and the magnitude of his feelings written in those eyes, the possessiveness, he had no choice but to let go and let Yeosang carry you away.

White lights penetrated through your eyelids even when they weren’t open. It was odd, you woke up with your eyes completely closed, but that flashing light was completely blinding you. It was unbearable.

You sat up with a groan, your hands clutching your head to soothe the pounding headache that made you want to split your head in half. The last thing you remembered was falling completely into that void, blackness swallowing you into its chasm, and then, nothing.

There was a small moment of panic that set in when you looked around and realized that you had absolutely no idea where you were. The only reason why you knew that you were back in Yeosang’s apartment was that the bed you were lying on smelled exactly like him; that sweet, musky, earthy scent that invaded your olfactory senses always brought heaven down to you.

A sudden ache clustered behind your eyes, the worst kind. It rendered you weak all over again, like your body was suddenly remembering that it was supposed to be sick. And just like that, you fell back asleep.

But not for long. You felt something on your forehead, something wet and cold, and it was disrupting your well-needed rest. Your lips were getting parted a bit, an unconscious groan slipped past them.

“Yunho,” you mumbled, voice scratchy, throat itchy with how sore it was becoming.

Yeosang scoffed softly, his grip on the thermometre tightens ever so slightly, his other hand holding the cold towel on your forehead in place, hoping your fever would lessen, if not completely go away.

You kept mumbling your roommates’ names, specifically Yunho’s. He knew of Yunho, he didn’t mind him, but he’d rather not hear it right now. He’ll let it pass for now, you were quite delirious, after all. It wasn’t something he couldn’t fully blame you for, it was him who was to blame for what happened to you.

His brow raised when your hand suddenly held his, the one holding the towel on your forehead. “Yuyu, cold,” you mumbled.

”Think again, princess,” his left eye twitched in annoyance, but he kept his voice as gentle as possible.

You opened one eye so as to not overwhelm yourself with the light. Ah, how could you forget? You squeezed his hand slightly. “Yeo,” you smiled a little. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he muttered, trying hard not to squeeze your hand back with the small nickname you gave him this time. “You are in my house, in my bed, calling another man’s name. You tell me.”

You frowned when he leaned away. “Keep that thing on,” he pointed at the cloth on your forehead. “I’ll be back to get some soup.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you weren’t in the mood for soup and that you just wanted to go to sleep, so just watched him walk out of the room. You had no right to complain, your heart was getting warmer in your chest at the thought of Yeosang still taking care of you even when he was mad at you.

People don’t know how pure-hearted this man was, but you knew. You knew.

When sleep was about to come knocking towards you once more, Yeosang had to tap your cheeks a bit to wake you up. He wouldn’t admit it, but it did make him feel bad, but you had to eat to replenish your energy.

“Open up,” he lifted the spoon to feed you, himself. “Don’t soil my bed.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, the sound of it a bit grating in your ears. His rough-around-the-edges made you feel reassured, like he was never angry at you in the first place. You’d take this over anything any other day.

With his help, you were able to finish the soup very quickly. Here came the hard part, though - you needed to drink some medicine. Your stomach refused to take anything anymore, you didn’t want to throw up.

”Open your mouth,” Yeosang tried to push the pill in your mouth. “I don't want you dying on me.”

Your fever is taking over your senses now, delirium setting in, and your vision is doubling. “Can I take it later? I really can’t, it’s too bitter,” you whined.

He frowned. “No. I don’t give a damn, take it before I shove it down your throat.”

He sighed exasperatedly when you weren’t letting up. He wasn’t a complete ass, he would never force you to do something you didn’t want to.

An idea crosses his head. He bit his bottom lip apprehensively, there was one thing he could do, but was it going to be worth it?

He took a look at your pitiful state. Drops of sweat trickled down your forehead, yet you were still shivering terribly. Your eyes opened and shut themselves repeatedly, yet they remained unfocused on anything.

One thing was for sure - you were still beautiful. The answer wasn’t lost on him.

He takes his mask off, the one that covered the majority of his face, the one he detested yet swore would never take off. He puts the pill on his tongue, grabs your face, then puts his lips against yours.

You mewled, caught off-guard by the suddenness of it, but you were far too gone to notice and care. This was a dream, it had to be. It was the only way to not lose your mind over this. You were too delirious to see his face, and you didn’t realize that you had already swallowed the pill in the heat of the moment.

He pulled away, giving you a small peck on the nose. He walked towards the door to leave, putting his mask back on in the process, but not before looking back at you one more time. It wasn’t the way he would’ve normally done things, but it helped, didn’t it?

”Yeosang, wait,” you mumbled. It came out as a weak call, but at least he heard you when he turned around. You actually didn’t know if he did, but you just hoped he did.

”What?”

“Whatever it is that’s trapping you in your own mind,” you began. You had no idea what compelled you to say it, your delirium was getting to you, but you just had to say it. “Whatever has happened to you, just know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Yeosang froze, his entire body going rigid. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered, teeth gritted. It wasn’t out of anger, it was out of concern.

”Forgive yourself, please,” you coughed one last time before your head hit the pillow to rest. “And forgive me too…”

He wouldn’t go back to that room until the next day. He clearly had a lot to think about.

He was never truly mad at you, not entirely anyway. Rather, he was terrified. He was utterly scared of you finding out the skeletons in his closet before he told you, and he was close, he was so damn close, but when you found out first, he just couldn’t help the anger that filled his veins at that moment.

You slept for another day straight with Yeosang checking in on you once in a while. He didn’t wake you up, you definitely needed that rest to recuperate your energy

Your phone would ring once in a while but Yeosang was quick to assure Yunho, if he called, that you were fine. And if Jongho called, he wouldn’t even bother picking up. He wanted to be petty, what could he say?

By the third day, you were feeling completely fine. You were able to get up on your own and finally shower after staying on the same bed with the same clothes for a couple of days. You were able to deduce that Yeosang had taken you to his other guest room, the one that didn’t have the theater system.

When you got in the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find clothes already provided in there for you. You couldn’t help the beating of your heart, both in adoration with this man and in the hurt you feel for him.

You hugged your knees, huddling in the corner of the shower as your tears mixed with the cascading water from above you. You hoped that it would wash away all the wrongs you’ve done, but you knew it never worked like that. If only things were that easy.

The shower definitely made you feel better, your body was so sore from laying down for days. You needed to stretch, and so when you looked at the time, you realized that it was only seven o’clock in the morning, so you could make breakfast for you and Yeosang.

Your body was on autopilot, years of making breakfast for Jongho and Yunho has trained you for this very moment. You just hoped Yeosang liked what you made, but you would understand if he didn’t.

“Smells good.”

You screeched, jumping a couple of feet away from where you were standing, throwing the spatula you were holding in the air. There he was, standing at the foot of the stairs just watching you.

He sighed, walking and picking up the spatual to hand it over to you. You avoided eye contact with him when he got so close, you could smell him. It makes your head grow weary with dizziness.

“I’m glad the clothes fit you,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “Do you feel better?”

“I-I think so,” you replied, tucking a strand of your hair at the back of your ears, not knowing what to do now that he was directly in front of you like this.

When you closed your eyes, you envisioned his face. Not in its entirety, however. You could perfectly see his features one by one when he removed the mask that night, but it was difficult to imagine them all together. Redness coloured your cheeks at the very thought of it.

It wasn’t lost on him what you were thinking. The nervous ticks of your hands and the slightest shift of your body told him everything you needed to know, that you were nervous.

You were expecting him to reply with something snide, something sarcastic, like he has always done with you. But instead, he heaved a sigh so heavy, it sounded like he was completely giving up and surrendering. “What am I going to do with you?” Yeosang said.

You frowned, looking up at him in apprehension. “W-What do you mean?”

“First, you invade my privacy by snooping around,” he said bluntly. You winced. “And then, you have the audacity to get sick. And now you’re here, making me breakfast you know I wouldn’t eat in front of you.”

You bit your lip, chewing on it nervously. You let out a small gasp when his thumb gently presses on your chin, pulling it down a little to stop you from doing so. “And then do you shit like this,” he whispered.

”I’m sorry,” you blurted out. “I’m so sorry for everything, I didn’t mean to be sick, but I’m very grateful that you took care of me.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, did you really think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Did you honestly think that you weren’t important to me enough?”

You blinked at him owlishly, your mouth opened a little as you stared comically at him. “But, you weren’t wrong,” you gulped, your vulnerability overpowering how nervous you were actually feeling right now. ”I did snoop around but I promise you I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise you—-“

”Shh,” he hushes you, pressing his thumb on your lips this time. “I know, princess, I know,“ he swallowed before continuing. “None of it was your fault, i-it’s all mine. I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

It hurt you to see him like this, the Yeosang you knew was headstrong, upfront, and outspoken. The Yeosang in front of you right now was vulnerable, just like you, nervous, and hesitant to say what was on his mind. His eyes bore into you, they shone with endearment towards you.

His hand makes way to your cheeks, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You sniffled, forcing a smile on your face. “Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily,“ you chuckled. “I’m strong, aren’t I? Cheer up, Yeo.”

His hand itched to pull your head closer. “I’ve always liked it when you call my name like that,” he confessed, testing the waters by taking one step closer towards you. “When all you hear everywhere is ‘freak’, it sounds like a treat, you know?”

“I’m the only one who should matter,” you blurted out without thinking. “Those people don’t deserve you, they don’t deserve the smart, kind, empathetic person that you are, they just don’t.”

You saw Yeosang close his eyes slowly, his entire body trembling as he held you. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he muttered, both of his hands holding your face this time. “I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Don’t say that—-”

“I told myself to not cross this line before,” he said, walking forward, his hand pushing you backwards until you hit the countertop with your behind. “So I pushed you down a million times, but the truth was, I’d love it if you knew that you were on my mind.”

Your heart was constricting, shrinking on itself, that it hurt to even breathe. The vulnerability in his eyes was making you tear up. You purse your lips to stop yourself from tearing up then and there. “Do you remember what you told me the other night?” Yeosang asked you, his hand going behind your neck.

You shook your head, not because you didn’t truly remember, but because you can’t even describe what you’re truly feeling right now. “You told me to forgive myself,” he murmured. “But how am I supposed to do that when I was this close to losing you because of some misunderstanding from my insecurities?”

You could feel the weight of what he was saying as something tangible. You gulped, opening your mouth those three little words you’ve always wanted to tell him, but he quickly shook his head.

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded. “Not yet, Y/N. Not yet.”

This was it for Yeosang, it was now or never. With what he’s going to tell you, it’s either you stay or you don’t. There is no in between. He ran his hand through his hair, something you noticed he did a lot when he was frustrated, as if doing so would lessen his unraveling thoughts and feelings.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. He can’t do it, where did he even want to start?

It was a constant push and pull between you and Yeosang - he was good at being there without suffocating, you were good at offering your support without asking for anything in return. It infuriated him, yet intoxicated him. All he wanted was to run away when all you wanted to do was lean on him.

But not anymore, he wasn’t going to run anymore.

“For the lack of a better word, I’m fucked up, Y/N,” he chuckled bitterly, breaking your heart into small pieces. “It wasn’t always like this, you know? I have my reasons, and I was fine being alone, but you.”

He held your hands and warmth spread all throughout your fingertips. It sent sparks down your spine. “The first time I looked at you, you didn’t even notice it. You were the only one who didn’t pay attention to me or said anything remotely stupid about this.”

He was referring to the mask. You stared at him in sadness, was the bar really that low? It wasn’t difficult to not talk about it, it wasn’t your place, and you believed everyone does what they do for a reason regardless or how unreasonable it could be.

His eyes started to search yours. He wanted to stop breathing. It was those eyes of yours. He swallowed a lump on his throat because you always looked at him like the only thing you saw was him. It was too much for him at times, yet it was never enough at the same time.

“There are a lot of things I want to tell you, but I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. He hated how small he sounded. “I want to tell you everything, I’m just stuck in my head lately, that’s all.”

You didn’t respond immediately, what were you supposed to say to something like that? You weren’t good with things like this, and your heart twisted with hurt as you took a good look at him, he looked hopeful yet sad. Yeosang thought you looked so understanding right now, and he wanted to scream.

“You saw it when you opened the box, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head, confused at first, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You wanted to hear it from him. “What about it?”

“I’m so stupid,” he chuckled bitterly. “I guess I was embarrassed when you found out that you weren’t going to be my original partner for the project.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. I knew it, you thought. You did have an inkling, but you didn’t want to assume anything. “I don’t know why I did it, but I don’t regret it. Deep down, I think Professor Choi knew,” he continued.

You noticed that he was slowly pulling away, you can read it in his eyes that he’s said enough. You weren’t going to let him do that.

”Yeosang,” you uttered his name with gentle care; with such grace. “You can tell me anything, alright? No matter what it is, I’m here. You have no reason to carry your burdens by yourself anymore.”

You could tell that your words hit him like a hurricane. You stared at him, the conflict in his eyes, oh, how you want to take that all away from him. You definitely wanted to tell him how you felt about him, and you just might.

Yeosang stepped closer to you, your face almost brushing against his chest. His hand tightened their hold on your and the contact sent jolts of shivers against your scalp. He was having an internal conflict, his resolve slowly breaking down in front of you as his eyes met with yours once again. You almost couldn’t handle the softness in his eyes, it was too much, yet it was everything.

“I don’t think I can do this,” he choked out, eyes reddening. He was pulling away.

But you weren’t going to let him. “You can,” you encouraged, voice gentle yet firm. You brought his hands to your lips and gave them a small peck. “I’m not leaving, even if you push me away. I am not leaving you.”

"No, you don't understand," he counteracted. "I don't want you to lean on me, because I'm falling, and I don't want that for you."

His hands were trembling. "And don't even count on me, because I'm drowning," he gazed at you with despair. "Please don't drown with me."

That hurt more than you thought possible for your heart to take. The emotions behind it were so rough, and for the first time, you didn't know what to do. "What do you want, then?"

"To hold you in my arms," he admitted. "Because I'd let the ocean take me if I can't."

The pounding of Yeosang’s heart slowed down, and finally, he finally felt like he could breathe again. He’d always felt like he was standing on the edge of the cliff, but this time, he could see himself finally jumping towards that liberation he’d always dreamt of chasing.

”Do you trust me?” You suddenly asked him.

It didn’t even take him a second to answer. “With all my heart.”

You suddenly lifted your fingers, eyes never leaving his. The fabric of the mask he wore on his face felt smooth and heavy against your fingertips as you slowly pulled it down and pulled it away from his face. It was the symbolization of it - you were going to set him free.

To say you were starstruck was the least of your concerns. You’ve never seen someone so astoundingly beautiful that it took your breath away. It was like being hit by lightning - so sudden and intense that you felt like you were being blown away. You took all of his features one by one - his perfect nose, his kissable lips, that adorable birthmark that was now in full view.

It certainly brought tears to your eyes. You cupped Yeosang’s face as your tears fell. “You’re beautiful,” you sobbed, more tears filling your lips as you smiled at him. “So beautiful, Yeo. So, so beautiful.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes filling up with his own tears. Finally saying them felt like something broke inside him yet healed at the same time. “I wanted to tell you in a better setting, in a more graceful way, but I don’t think I can keep it all in anymore.”

It was true. The words just slipped out before he could stop himself. It hung in the air, it felt unreal, and it was suffocating because his chest tightened with a mix of fear and anxiety as he waited for your response.

Your eyes widened and for a moment, you thought your knees were going to buckle underneath you. Before you even understood it, yourself, your hands left his face to snake behind his neck and then you were leaning towards him, your lips finally meeting with his.

It was everything and more. He was surprised at first, but then his lips started to move in sync with yours. It was months of pining with one another, feelings that were left unsaid for most of the time. And now you were here, breathing each other in as if today was going to be your last.

You felt so soft and warm against him. You were everything he ever wanted and now that he had you, there was no way he was letting you go. Not again.

”I love you too,” you pulled away slightly, your faces still inches away from each other.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, not in amusement, but in relief. For the first time, he just let himself fall. He felt a deep yearning for you, it was far more than the desire to have you for himself. It was the unadulterated love he had for you.

You bit your lips at the sound of his voice, deep and unfiltered without the mask covering it. Yeosang tentatively held your face, his head tilting, the ghost of his lips fleeting against yours. He hesitated. While he wanted nothing more than to capture your lips one more time, he wanted to ask you one last thing.

“If I kiss you again right now, that will mean you will be mine,” he whispered.

His impatient side was taking over, but no, it was up to you. If you want him, you’ll have him.

You blushed at the implication, but you already knew what you wanted. This was why you fell for him - it wasn’t for what he looked like or what he could and could have offered you, it was his warm and considerate attitude.

Your lips brushed against his. It was meant to be sweet, a confirmation of what your answer was without even needing to spell the words out to him.

Yeosang’s resolve broke when you parted your lips. You let out a breathy, startled cry when he plunged his tongue straight onto your mouth, and your hold on his shoulders did nothing to calm down the wild beating of your heart. He pulled you close to him as if he was scared that you were going to leave him and all you did was kiss him even deeper to prove that you wouldn’t.

He needed to hear that sweet sound again. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss, but when he sucked on your tongue after you had teasingly bitten his bottom lip, sweetness be damned. He swallowed your quiet, whiny moans as he held you closer against him, his hand just holding your cheeks as if you were the most precious of treasures.

The both of you were startled out of the kiss when the loud beeping of the fire alarm sounded from somewhere above you.

You paled, quickly pushing Yeosang away to put the fire away from the burning pan of breakfast that you had totally both forgotten in the heat of the moment. You pouted, disheartened at the blackened eggs, or what was left of it.

Yeosang started to laugh, not believing that an egg cockblocked him. It wasn’t the sarcastic laugh you were used to nor was it that passing laugh he’d make when he was restraining himself. No, this was the tummy-tickling type. His entire face was scrunched up, his lips spread throughout his face, his eyes squinting with that unmistakable happiness, and his demeanor light and free. You loved this look on him.

“Stop making fun of me,” you pouted, laughing in between. You never realized how contagious his laughter was, and that realization led you to another thought - you are loving the new things you were learning about him.

“Just leave them,” he said, taking the pan from you to put it down the sink and pulling you plush against his toned chest.

“Yeosang,” you whined, blushing profusely at his affectionate gestures. It was a total change from who he was just hours prior to this. “Stop, I’m embarrassed…”

When he planted a quick peck on your lips, he couldn’t help but laugh again at your even more reddened face. You were so cute in his eyes, and had he known that he would feel this happy just by being with you like this, he would’ve gotten his head out of his ass a while back.

”I’ll take you out for lunch, princess,” he bargained, holding on to your hand. It wasn’t the first time he said the pet name, but it felt entirely different this time on your ears. “There’s this place I have to take you after.”

You didn’t miss the melancholy in his eyes when he said it, but you tried your best to cheer him up. “Oh? Is this a date, Kang Yeosang?”

”What if it is?” Yeosang scoffed playfully, hugging you from the waist tighter. “Can’t I take my girl out?”

“Who said I was your girl?”

You slightly felt bad at his shocked, widened eyes. You laughed out loud, leaning towards him once more to give him a sweet peck on his cheeks. “Relax, hot stuff,” you smirked when pink tinted his cheeks. “Thank you for loving me.”

A genuine smile crossed his lips, the adoration in his eyes tripling from the words you just uttered. He leaned his forehead against yours, content and happy. “No, thank you for loving me.”

Lunch was better than you could have ever imagined. Yeosang took you to this place that was an hour away from his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it was a high-end place, somewhere you would never have imagined you’d ever dine in.

“Yeo, I feel underdressed,” you frowned in concern, tugging at your dress that you both shopped for on a whim to suit the ambience of the fine dining spot.

”You’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “The most beautiful princess.”

When you finally sat down, he kept looking around, fiddling with his suit uncomfortably. You took his hand in yours in reassurance, it was the first time he went out without his mask and you could tell that he wasn’t used to it.

If only he knew. You ate lunch slowly, not because you were trying to be posh, but because you kept stealing glances at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. The thought almost made you choke on your food so many times.

He really was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, heck, he was even prettier than you ever will be. His features were so refined, like God took his time with him. And now, he was yours.

However, the old Yeosang you knew was still there. He glared nastily at you when you tried to split the bill when you were done eating. You sheepishly smiled at him, putting your card back in your wallet to let him pay for everything. You would make it up to him by kissing him in front of everybody in the restaurant when you were leaving.

Public display of affection wasn’t your thing, but it was so worth it to see his flustered smirk.

”Do you know why I brought you here?” Yeosang questioned, buckling your seatbelt for you like a true gentleman, curiously.

You frowned, looking around from inside the car. You’ve never been here before and to be fair, when you told him to surprise you, he did deliver. “You’re not going to kill me and dump my body out here, aren’t you?” You teased him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I should,” he murmured. He laid his arm at your headrest, looking behind as he reversed the car. You gulped, he looked hot. “Seriously, Y/N? God, you’re so fucking weird.”

You chortled, the snorting sound coming from you was so embarrassing but you didn’t care. “True, but you love me,” you smirked triumphantly.

He sniffled, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “I know,” he fake cried. “Is it too late for me to find the receipt so I can still return you to the store?”

You gasped, your mouth dropping in mock offense. “Yeosang!”

He wasn’t going to change from that apathetic friend that you had first before this, except that you had the benefit of having his love now.

The drive was smooth-sailing. You felt like you were in cloud nine the entire time, giggling when he would smirk at you knowingly, his hand on yours the entire time while the other was on the steering wheel. You couldn’t help but notice how smooth his hands were.

Soon enough, you were driving in an area where the houses had great views and were situated in prime locations. You didn’t notice it at first, but the more you drove, the bigger the houses got. You weren’t naive, you had an idea just how wealthy Yeosang’s family was, but you were about to find out just how wealthy they actually were.

”Let’s go,” he murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt after parking directly in front of this gated house - mansion, rather. It was intimidating, the driveway, alone, was long and winding, surrounded by pretty lights and vast greenery.

He opened your door for you, holding your hand and gently ushering you out. You gulped, if you felt underdressed earlier when you went to a fine dining restaurant, you definitely felt out of place and you haven’t even gone inside yet.

“You could’ve told me we were going here,” you frowned, your mind already getting poisoned by your own insecurities. You gestured to yourself. “I would’ve dressed better.”

Outside the gates was a small hut-looking station, presumably where the security guards were whose jobs were to filter out who entered the property and kick out whoever isn't welcome. Yeosang knocked twice on the window with his knuckles. You were fascinated when the sliding window opened quickly, seemingly like whoever was there wasn’t expecting to be disturbed when they opened their mouth to speak.

But when they saw who was knocking, they immediately shut up. “Young Master,” the guard said in surprise rather than contempt.

Your boyfriend smiled. “Hello, Juyeon,” he waved slightly. He gestured to me. “I’m with my girl. Open the gates, do not announce my arrival. Wooyo?”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation, your insecurities getting the best of you. You generally weren’t someone to get intimidated by opulence and the material luxury that this world could offer, but now that it was right in front of you staring you in the face, you didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t realize that the gates had opened and Yeosang was holding your hand again and leading you inside. You smiled politely at the guard, bowing slightly to each other before you turned your attention back to Yeosang.

“You’re beautiful, I told you,” he shook his head, walking forward and leading you in. “If anything, you look perfect.”

He chuckled at your confused face. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, someone important to me,” he explained, his voice taking on a sadder tone even though he tried to hide it from you. “This is my family home. I want everyone to see you for you and they will accept that because I’d hate for you to change just to fit in.”

You didn’t know squat about construction, but even to the inexperienced eye, it was easy to tell that the way the entire property was built was made up of high-quality and premium materials. You were still on the lawn and it was already boasting a large amount of space.

“It’s called common courtesy,” you reasoned out, trying hard not to gawk at your surroundings. “I don’t want to look like I didn’t make an effort or anything.”

You faced the front door with him, pausing when he hesitated to push it open. “You’re literally fine, though I understand where you’re coming from,” he reassured me. “My parents are very kind people, trust me.”

You blanched. “Your parents?”

Now you felt totally out of place, you were about to meet his parents! “Yeo, a-are you sure about this? We’ve only been together for a day, are you sure—-”

“Princess,” he stopped you, worry in his eyes at your panicked state. It significantly calmed you down, but it didn’t stop the wild beating of your heart. “You were my friend first,” he smiled tightly at you. “I think my parents would be pleased to meet the person that helped me and was there for me whenever I needed comfort.”

Your chest warmed, his words hitting you directly in your heart. To say you were touched would be an understatement. “I did that for you?”

“In more ways than one, yeah,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair affectionately before fixing it, tucking the stray ones behind your ears gently and tenderly. “Ready?”

If the driveway and the lawn weren’t enough to impress you and make your jaw hit the floor, the interior of the house definitely did. Everything from the living room down the smallest corners of the walls screamed luxury and money, the attention to detail was impressive, especially since you grew up in a humble home.

”Holy shit, Yeosang,” you blurted out as he gave you a tour. “I knew you had money, but this is crazy.”

“Old money,” he shrugged. “Didn’t Jongho tell you we were childhood friends? My little princess can think about that for a second, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but he was right. It also didn’t stop the blush from rising up your cheeks. You would just never get used to his affectionate nature being out in the open now.

Besides the few house workers that were delighted at the sight of Yeosang, you didn’t encounter anybody significant yet. You weren’t sure if that was a relief or not, but so far you were enjoying the tour. He showed the pool, the built-in sauna with the promise of using it with you next time, and the outdoor kitchen.

There was also a home theater, but he didn’t stay long. You figured it had something to do with how you two had a falling out a week prior. Instead, he took you to his favourite place - the wine cellar. Apparently, his father loved collecting wine from all over the world. You gulped at the mere thought of the price tag attached to them.

He smirked when he brought you to the main kitchen. Your eyes shone at the granite countertops, the marbled floors, and the custom cabinetry that held every spice and herb known to mankind. There, a kind looking woman approached you with a wide smile. Yeosang introduced her as the head chef.

”I see you got yourself a little girlfriend, Sangie,” she teased mischievously.

Yeosang cleared his throat, rolling his eyes affectionately as he gave the head a tight hug. “It’s been a while,” he whispered with an emotion you haven’t recognized before. “Uhm, this is Y/N,“ he gestures to you after he’s pulled away.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled as the head chef gave you a tight hug of your own. It certainly touched you, it was such a warm gesture and you’ve never met them before, too.

”Hopefully, Yeosang has been treating you well,” she said with a knowing smile. “My, you are very pretty, dear.”

“Who’s very pretty?”

You turned to a new voice from the entrance of the grand kitchen. Judging from what you were seeing, you knew exactly who this woman was. She looked just like Yeosang, except she was much, much older. She had this elegance and grace that one couldn’t get from anywhere else except for age and the wisdom that came along with it.

You bowed in a ninety-degree angle as politely and as respectfully as you possibly can. “G-Good afternoon, Mrs. Kang, I am so sorry to intrude into your house like this!”

You heard her amused laughter, and when you rose back up, you held back in your own laughter when you saw her hold the shell of her son’s ear and pulled it towards her cheekily.

“You unfilial son of mine,” she started off, ignoring Yeosang’s groans of pain as she tightened her hold. “You haven’t set foot in here for a while and you dare just show up unannounced? Oh, your father will have a field day with you!”

“But it’s okay,” she giggled, your eyes widening when she held you by the arm. “Finally, you bring a beautiful girl home, oh, I thought my son was going to die a virgin forever!”

“Mum! What the hell?”

Yeosang’s mom was a chatterbox, and she was the sweetest. It made you breathe out a sigh of relief because you were slightly terrified that she’d reject your humble background compared to theirs and her son’s lifestyle growing up.

The only way Yeosang was able to drag you away was when you made a promise to her that you’d come back for tea time.

“Princess, I hope this doesn’t deter you from coming back,” he remarked sarcastically, leading you outside with his hand on your lower back. “I swear everybody here is sane.”

As if on cue, the house staff that would either pass the two of you or you would pass bowed and giggled to themselves in amusement and surprise when they saw Yeosang. You smiled awkwardly at everybody, breathing a sigh of relief when you reached the back part of the property once more, except Yeosang led you to an entirely different place.

“I think everybody is sweet and it’s quite endearing to see them like you,” you chuckled. “I get it though. It’s like they haven’t seen you in months.”

“That’s because they actually haven’t seen me in months,” he deadpanned.

You chuckled a bit, thinking that he was joking just to uplift the mood, but when you saw his facial expression remaining unchanged, your smile dropped. “W-Wait, you’re serious?”

“We’ve been technically together for a while now without the label, have you ever seen my family visit or heard a phone call?” Yeosang scoffed, pulling on your hand to stop you from walking. “We’re here.”

Your mouth parted in awe. Flowers littered your vision, they were a dancing rainbow of pretty blossoms. You’ve always dreamt of getting a house one day with a huge garden like this, you could almost detect the insatiable fragrance this garden offered, and the way the beautiful petals curled from the summer heat made you want to touch them. You could stay here and make this your sanctuary.

”But why? Was there any reason you cut contact with them? They love you, Yeo, I could see that,” you said softly, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

He lifted a finger to point at something. “That’s why,” he said. His eyes were swimming with a mixture of anxiety and longing, but when he blinked, it was gone. He offered you his hand once more. “Come along, princess. There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

You didn’t notice it at first, but there was a person on the far end of the garden. The closer you got, the more you realized that it was a man. He was obscured by all the pretty flowers, but he was there clear as day.

Your heart dropped to your feet, for the man was in a wheelchair, his entire right leg in a cast along with his right arm. Was this the reason why Yeosang chose to leave his family? You were nervous to know the answer.

He didn’t notice you at first, too busy basking underneath the sun that was beaming down on him. He had a soft, serene smile painted on his face that signified that he was truly at peace at the moment. Your brows shot up when you got closer, he was handsome.

Finally, he looked up, and then his eyes widened. Between Yeosang’s trembling hands and the man’s widened, unsure eyes, you didn’t know what to do, exactly. The three of you were frozen in time.

“Yeosang,” he whispered, eyes hooded with emotions you couldn’t stand looking at, not because you had something against this man, but because you might end up crying if you stare too long. He tried to get up hurriedly, struggling against his restrictions, and it was when Yeosang finally broke out of his trance and rushed forward.

“Damn it, Wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you?” Yeosang hissed, his harsh voice a contrast to the gentle way he helped the latter sit back properly on his wheelchair. “Have you lost your mind?”

You purse your lips. Ah, you thought, so this was Wooyoung. The genes in this family continue to astound you. You didn’t recognize him at first - in the photo you saw, Wooyoung had shorter hair, and right now, his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. And he has a thorny rose tattoo that he didn’t have in the photo.

Wooyoung stared at Yeosang when he lifted his pants a little before squatting down to his level, using his hands to lean on the wheelchair for support. The fox-looking man stared at his brother with no particular expression on his face except for his teary eyes. You felt like you were intruding.

Yeosang smirked lightly, without any malice or ill-intent. “How are you, Woo?”

You weren’t expecting much, in fact, you weren’t expecting anything at all, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting your boyfriend’s face to be, for the lack of a better word, bitch-slapped so hard, it sent his head reeling to the side. The loud, cracking sound of skin hitting skin surprised you, to say the least.

“That’s for disappearing on me for months,” Wooyoung hissed, his hand still in the air.

Yeosang’s mouth was parted in shock. He slowly turned his head back to Wooyoung, his eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. His cheek was slowly growing red and if it wasn’t for the situation, you would’ve laughed at the handprint forming on the area.

After a while, Wooyoung burst out crying, leaning forward to grab Yeosang by his shirt so he could wrap his arms tightly around him. Yeosang relaxes into the hug, patting Wooyoung’s shaking body whilst rubbing onto his back soothingly like a father comforting a son. The only sound in the garden right now was Wooyoung’s silent wails and sniffles.

“How did you even know I was here?” Wooyoung wondered, sniffling, as he pulled away and took a good look at Yeosang by holding onto his face. “You look…happier.”

You blushed when he side-eyes you mischievously, winking at you subtly before turning his attention back at Yeosang. “You’re a jerk, you know that?” Wooyoung further chided, scoffing loudly at Yeosang, who rolled his eyes. “Dad is pretty pissed at you and mum was running around like a chicken without a head. You left me high and dry, bastard.”

“And you?” Yeosang raised a brow, rubbing his cheek, offended. “What about you?”

“You tell me,” Wooyoung pushed Yeosang’s shoulder. You wanted to giggle at how different the two brothers were. “You were having so much fun at dad’s penthouse.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. “How—”

“Anyway,” he grinned, turning his wheelchair manually to face you. He stretches his arm towards you and waves it to gesture to you to come closer to him. “Come, come,” he said. “I need to know the girl who removed my brother’s stick from his ass.”

“Bold of you to assume we’re together,” Yeosang scoffed, motioning for you to sit down on the nearby bench.

“Keep telling yourself that. Move along,” he turned his wheelchair once more, the wheels going over Yeosang’s foot like a bump on the road. He mumbled a small ‘oops,’ not really caring about the latter’s groan of pain as he clutched on his foot while glaring behind the former’s back intensely.

He grinned again, bringing his hand out for you to shake. “Jung Wooyoung, the better looking brother.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Yeosang rebutted. “She’s my girlfriend, dimwit.”

“L/N Y/N, the stick holder,” you smirked, bringing your own hand out to shake his. You tried hard not to stare at his cast and his injuries, though you were extra curious about them especially since Yeosang kept looking at them when he thought Wooyoung didn’t notice, and his eyes held pain.

Wooyoung laughed, surprising you with his high-pitched cackle. “Oh my God, I like her, I like her!” He repeatedly said, slapping his own thigh as he laughed. He batted his eyelashes at you. “So, what did you do to bring my brother out of his shell?”

It was when the atmosphere turned tense. Yeosang’s shoulders stiffened, his back muscles turning rigid. “I don’t think we should talk about that right now,” he murmured, sitting beside you and draping an arm across your shoulders. “There’s so much time, Woo–”

“What, so much time for you to leave again? I won’t see you for months, hell, I might not see you again, knowing you,” Wooyoung scoffed, sighing heavily. He looked up at the sky again for minutes before setting his eyes towards Yeosang once more. “You need to let go, Sangie,” he paused, tilting his chin at me. “Does she know?”

Your curiosity was definitely piqued this time. Yeosang shook his head. “That’s why I’m here,” he sighed. He looked at you, giving you a tight smile. “I figured if you’re going to be with me, you have to know soon, anyway.”

“Is this related to why you covered your face the entire time during this semester?” You wondered absentmindedly, not expecting that it would set off another set of questions.

“Wait, what the hell does that mean?” Wooyoung blurted out in surprise. “Cover your face, how? Yeosang?”

Both of you proceeded to tell in your own experiences on how Yeosang would wear a mask to cover the bottom half of his face on campus and even around you until recently. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped lower and lower down to the floor the more you recounted your experiences, especially how Yeosang was being treated by the other students.

Wooyoung had this forlorn look on his face that got sadder and sadder the more you talked to the point that you regretted talking in the first place. He rubbed his face with his hands frustratedly. “Damn it, Sangie, I told you, I’m fine.”

Yeosang raised a brow, giving his injuries a pointed look, making Wooyoung roll his eyes. “It will heal,” he tried to console, but it wasn’t working. He turned to you, eyes laced with pain, before he sighed and spoke. “There was a car accident a couple of months ago. I was in the passenger’s seat, and Yeosang was driving.”

Hearing that felt like a dream, the sudden shock of it not fully sinking into you until Yeosang tightened his hold on your shoulder. “I like you, and you seem like a nice girl,” Wooyoung continued. “But I have to ask you this - what do you think about Yeosang?”

It definitely sparked something in you, it was an easy answer. “Everything,” you grabbed Yeosang’s hands in yours. “He’s very sweet, a bit of a jackass sometimes, but it’s a part of his personality I’m willing to work around because I’m in love with him. Anybody who doesn’t like him is lost on them, and I feel bad for them.”

Wooyoung seemed satisfied with this answer. His hand patted your free hand before he looked down. “There was this girl,” he began, voice hardening. “Long story short, she was obsessed with him. She followed him everywhere, she even broke into our house one night, I mean, this girl was crazy.”

You gasped, turning your head abruptly at Yeosang, who was avoiding eye contact. You had an idea where this was going, you didn’t want to hear the repeated heartbreak for both of them, but you had to because it will help Yeosang move on. You tightened your hold on his hand.

It made sense. It all made sense. The attitude, the melancholy, and the mask. It just made sense. His face was his downfall.

“One day, we were coming home from the arcade,” Wooyoung continued. “Next thing we know, she was trailing us from behind and trying to line herself to the car,” he shook his head bitterly. “She was drunk. One thing led to another, my side of the car hit a pole head on.”

You gasped loudly, covering your mouth with your hands. Anger coursed through your veins, its hot trail going up your brain at the pain that must’ve brought upon everybody. “As you can see, I’m still recovering. Couple of broken bones,” he pointed to his casts. “But I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Yeosang gritted his teeth. “I should have been careful, I should’ve just driven faster, I should’ve,” he paused, sniffling, rubbing his eyes to stop the tears from falling. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt, Wooyoung. You lost your baseball scholarship because of me.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s her fault, Yeosang. It was never yours, it’s high time you stopped blaming yourself.”

Yeosang buried his head on the crook of your shoulder and neck, his other arm wrapping completely around your shoulders until he was fully hugging you for his own comfort. You and Wooyoung looked at each other and you couldn’t help but admire the man. The accident should have deterred him, but no, he still looked like a bright and cheerful person. Jung Wooyoung was stronger than anyone you know.

Wooyoung lifted his hand, trembling, wanting to reach out to his brother, but he put them back down. “You already gave up your dreams of being an idol because of this, because of that bitch,” he whispered bitterly. You were taken aback at the animosity, but you couldn’t blame him. “How much more of yourself are you going to take?”

Wetness hit your neck, but Yeosang made no sound. You respected it even though you wanted him to just let it out completely. You smoothed his hair out, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and letting him know that you were here for him. You wanted to cry with him, he has been through so much and you never knew.

“A little birdie did tell me to forgive myself,” he chuckled, sniffling a bit before chuckling lightheartedly.

You blushed again when Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. Yeosang pulls apart from you to lean down to hug his brother. It was then that you all knew that that weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, that the ghost of his past was finally leaving him to be the person he once was slowly, but surely.

“Mum and dad had never blamed you, and neither did I,” Wooyoung closed his eyes, rubbing Yeosang’s back. “We’ll heal together, okay?”

Campus was fascinating, to say the least. You had stayed over Yeosang’s penthouse the entire weekend. You couldn’t bear to leave him after that, but right now, you kept adjusting your sweater because makeup wasn’t enough to cover the hickeys that littered your collarbone and your chest.

After much deliberation, Yeosang had decided to ditch the mask. You assured him that whether or not he wore it would not change anything about your relationship, but all he gave you was a small smile and a reassuring peck on the lips.

“I have you now, I have no reason to wear it anymore,” he said. “Plus, it was getting difficult to wear it, anyway. I don’t know why I even started.”

One thing you were excited about, however, was being in the car with him to spend more time with him since you only had one class together. Luckily, both of your classes started in the afternoon, so you had time in the morning to go on a small date.

“Nervous?” You asked him, holding his hand as he stared out at the parking lot of the campus. “We should have taken my car, it’s a little more laidback.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve been hiding who I am for a while and to be quite frank, there’s only a lot of smack talking I can take, and plus,” he smirked, opening the car door and swinging his legs out. “You’re with me. . I refuse to let you get dragged in this shit.”

You were proud of Yeosang, even though he was slightly nervous, you could tell that he was at least trying. Everyone started to stare, you two were definitely eye-catching. You weren’t the most well-known student, but everybody did recognize you for being a friend of not only Jongho and Yunho, but also Hongjoong.

Yeosang, however, nobody has ever seen him before. You were slightly peeved, it wasn’t that much of a secret that Yeosang was definitely attractive, subjectively and objectively. His jawline was defined, his eyes brighter and more expressive now, and overall, he just looked free.

The closer you got to the crowded places, the more heads turned. Eyes after eyes following your every move, wondering who the handsome man with you was and whether he was a student or just someone you’re with. Yes, people did stare. It was hypocritical and you couldn’t help but get mad, now that Yeosang was more pleasing to their eyes, they chatter with excitement?

“Relax, princess,” Yeosang chuckled, pushing your head towards his so he could plant a small kiss on your forehead. You smirked at all the ‘aww’ and ‘damn’ in the background. “You’re like a little cat with its fur standing up.”

He opened the door to the library for you with a small chuckle and suddenly, his eyes shone with nostalgia. He smirked at you, this was where everything had started, and right now, he was silently making fun of you when you were still technically stalking him back then when you had a crush on him.

Hongjoong smiled brightly at you when you and Yeosang approached the table. “Hey, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You sheepishly gave him the book that you had borrowed from before and avoided eye contact with him when he raised his brows so high, it almost reached his hairline. Even Yeosang was trying not to laugh beside you.

“Y/N, this is the same book from months ago when you were trying to butter up to Kang Yeosang,” Hongjoong muttered, scoffing in disbelief and amusement. “Holy crap, I have to see what your penalty fee would be.”

You didn’t care. You were embarrassed to the high heavens, especially when Yeosang started to put his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. “Yeah? I wonder how that went,” he asked, adding salt to your wounds.

“Oh, you should’ve seen her,” Hongjoong grinned. “She had such a massive crush on the guy, it was hilarious,” he shook his head before clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Would you like to return a book or borrow one, yourself?”

“I’ll borrow the same book, if you don’t mind,” Yeosang pointed at the Machiavellian book absentmindedly. “I promise to return it on time.”

You hissed at him, actually sounding like a cat, in annoyance. Hongjoong laughed and nodded. “Of course,” he gave Yeosang the logbook and a pen like he did to you before when you borrowed the book, yourself. “I just need you to write your name here.”

“Oh, no need,” Yeosang brushed off. “My name should be in the book. Kang Yeosang.”

“Ah, I see—what?” Hongjoong said before doing a comical double-take with his eyes bulged out from its sockets. It was your turn to smirk and look at him in amusement. He looked at Yeosang up and down with a huge smile. “Holy shit, man, you look amazing! I love the coat on you.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. At first, he didn’t know how to react and it made you smile. He was still getting used to genuine compliments and you found it adorable. “Hongjoong was one of the people who didn’t judge you,” you supplied.

“Thank you,” your boyfriend’s cheeks were tinted pink.

Class wasn’t any better either. Instead of sitting by the corner like he usually did, Yeosang sat beside you proudly. Those who had been there before you came had either looks of curiosity or awe. The two of you couldn’t help but giggle. Soon enough, the class started to fill up, and then Yunho came to sit beside you like he usually did.

“You,” he seethed, giving you a pointed look. You sheepishly looked back. “You went MIA on both Jongho and I, you owe us for making you worry the whole week!”

He notices who was beside me and does a double look before bowing a little. “Ah, hello, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” Yunho juts his hand out respectfully. “Jeong Yunho.”

Yeosang gives me an amused look before he smirks. “But you have seen me before, do you not remember?”

“W-well, no, I don’t think so,” Yunho frowned, his face contorting into confusion before his eyes widened like Hongjoong’s and his mouth dropped open. “Wait, hold on—”

You giggled into your hands, it was so amusing to see your friends’ reactions to Yeosang so far. Yunho’s rant got cut off when Professor Choi entered the room along with Professor Park behind him in tow. You will admit, your two professors were both attractive and you have confessed once or twice to Yeosang that you had a crush on Professor Choi at one point.

There was a third person who trailed behind them and it made you and Yunho snort in amusement. It was Jongho. He didn’t make a point to look at anybody except the professors so he didn’t notice you and Yunho.

“I have Professor Park Seonghwa with me to judge everybody’s performance with me,” Professor Choi gestures to the latter, his dimpled smile swooning everybody present. “I’m hoping for something wonderful today,” he then gestured to Jongho next. “We also have our winner from last semester judging you all.”

You had totally forgotten about that part. Jongho did a solo the other semester. It was the reason why only you and Yunho had been in this class since Jongho was exempted.

Yunho elbowed you amidst all the chatters, droning the Professors’ explanation. “Fucking hell, Y/N, that’s Yeosang?” Yunho whistled in awe. You nodded and he snorted. “I knew it, I damn well knew he’d be attractive, but holy hell, are you sure that’s him?”

“I’m pretty sure I know who my boyfriend is,” you giggled.

You almost felt bad for Yunho, who seems to be going through an internal mental crisis. “Boyfriend? Since when?”

Coincidentally and unluckily for him, Yunho was cut off when his name and Mingi’s were called. He seemed to forget what he was inquiring about and stood up to go. Mingi passed the both of you and smirked before greeting you.

“Wish us luck,” he chuckled. He waved slightly. “What’s up, Yeosang?”

And then he went with Yunho towards the front. Your boyfriend frowned, taken aback by Mingi’s sudden greeting. “How the heck does he know?” Yeosang murmured in surprise. He had always assumed that the campus jock was a massive asshole.

“Hell, if I knew,” you shrugged. “We barely practiced for this thing, ugh. I’m saying goodbye to those benefits now.”

After the camera had been set up by Professor Park, Yunho and Mingi began to introduce themselves towards it. You had totally forgotten that this will be a recorded performance for submission and future referrence. You clutched Yeosang’s hand nervously and he squeezed back.

You weren’t surprised at Yunho’s skills. He occasionally went to a dance studio and had even dragged you and Jongho with him at one point. However, you were definitely taken aback at Mingi’s deep and raspy voice when he started rapping. What’s more is that the guy could dance too. You groaned, you and Yeosang were definitely done for.

When Yunho went back, he looked genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help but beam at him and be happy for him, too. Even Yeosang gave him a friendly pat in the back as a congratulatory gesture.

By then, it was pretty obvious that Yunho and Mingi would win and be exempted for the next semester. Not that the others weren’t good, in fact, there were a couple of close calls. Dancing and acting seemed to be the norm and since nobody except Mingi had rapped, theirs was remarkable.

“L/N Y/N? Kang Yeosang?”

When your names were called, you suddenly felt like your legs had become like lead. Jongho looked up so fast, you were surprised his neck didn’t crack from the whiplash of looking up at your direction as if he knew you were there the entire time. His hold on the pen loosened as he stared at Yeosang in bewilderment as he started to walk down with you.

“What the fuck?” Jongho mouthed at you, perplexed at what he was seeing. You shrugged and gave him a small wink.

At first, it didn’t hit everyone - especially since a handsome man was walking towards the front of the class with you and they were expecting a masked freak. You had to control your oncoming anger, it was easy to get it misplaced since you were in a position where you could give everyone a piece of your mind, but you didn’t want to embarrass Yeosang further.

“Uhm,” Professor Park cleared his throat to mask his own surprise. “You are Yeosang, correct?”

Your boyfriend nodded, showing his campus identification card. “I think so, yeah,” he joked lightheartedly.

All hell broke loose after a small pause. Gasps of surprise, whispers and murmurs of your fellow students all talking about Yeosang, the boy who wore a mask and who everybody called weird or eccentric, but that was long gone by now. There was a small tinge of pink on his cheeks at all the attention but when he looked at you, he knew that everything was alright.

“What will you present to us?” Professor Choi tentatively asked as he started to tinker at the recording camera. He set his wise eyes on Yeosang before lowering his voice, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “We would have given you a fair grading even if you chose to wear your self-expression.”

Yeosang gave the professor a genuine smile, going forward to grab two microphones from a still puzzled Jongho. “Thank you,” he uttered. He gave you one mic before turning again. “Uhm, we're performing a song.”

Professor Choi lifts a surprised brow while Professor Park nods, glee evident on his face. “Ah, we haven’t had anybody sing for us yet,” the former supplied.

“Are you going to be okay? I’m worried for you,” you whispered to him truthfully amidst all the murmurs that were going around the room.

“I’m still used to this,” he reassured. “Former idol, remember?”

The moment the music started, Yeosang lost his soul into the rhythm. You guys had decided long ago that he’d sing all the main parts while you remained as harmonies. You were proud of him and you can see that it felt good for him, his voice elevated your soul like it was your catharsis.

You were still annoyed at all the swoons he was receiving, but you decided to ignore it for now and tamped down your jealousy, not when Yeosang was releasing the emotions he’s held within himself for a while now.

But what surprised you was not only was everyone, including Yunho and Mingi, swaying to the rhythm of Yeosang voice, but someone else’s voice had joined to harmonize with you. You looked at Jongho in surprise and it was his turn to wink at you. Yeosang patted Jongho’s shoulder as the three of you filled the room with your voices.

You weren’t sure if that was okay, but everyone went along with it. Soon enough, everybody was singing along with the two of you. Yeosang’s voice faltered and your quick thinking decided to take over for a few seconds so he could contain himself. He held your hand for comfort, this meant a lot to him, but Jongho comically pulled your hands apart, his eyes widening in a ‘no’ stance.

And soon enough, it was over. Just like when Professor Park picked who your partners would be, your performance was also the last for the day. Cheers along with loud claps surrounded the entire room and Professor Choi had to calm everybody down to not disrupt the neighbouring classes, but even he was pleased with the outcome.

“I think it’s safe to say who gets the prize, isn’t it?” Professor Park cleared his throat to hide the smirk that was threatening to spread all over his face.

It was all surreal. Another good thing happened next and Professor Park also announced that Yunho and Mingi were to be exempted as well since their performance was unique on its own. The four of you shared a wide grin with one another, and before you knew it, your classes for the whole day were also exempted, courtesy of Jongho’s smooth-talking so the four of you could hang out.

“Fuck, man, I didn’t know you could sing like that!” Mingi exclaimed as the five of you started to walk to the parking lot. Since classes were still ongoing, you were free to do and say anything you wanted. “You should be an idol, or something.”

Yeosang put his arm across your shoulder and pulled you closer. “I should’ve, shouldn’t I?” He grinned. Then, he cleared his throat. “You guys, uh, don’t care to be associated with me, or something?”

“What do you mean?” Mingi frowned, genuinely puzzled. “Do you not like us?”

“N-No! I mean, it’s not that,” Yeosang blanched, making you snort and laugh after. Before he could explain himself, Mingi, ever the people person, slaps Yeosang’s back playfully.

But Yeosang wasn’t the one surprised, it was Mingi. “Woah.” he blurted out. “Your back muscles, you work out too?! Say, mind if I call another friend of mine? I think he’d like to hang out, too.”

You blushed at the imagery that suddenly popped in your head. Yunho gags jokingly while waving his hands in front of him. “Oh, God, I did not want to know about that in your eyes, Y/N,” he barfs. “Also, you have a number one fan now, Yeosang—”

“Sure,” you glared at Yunho before turning to Mingi. “Depends on who's the friend though—”

“Ya! Song Mingi, what the hell did you want?!”

You all turned to the loud source of the voice and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Hongjoong who was marching towards your group with a menacing look, until his eyes went to Yeosang again and he snorted in amusement.

“I will never get over what your face looks like. Are you sure you’re not a model?” Hongjoong waved. “Anyway, Mingi texted me to come here.”

Everyone looked at the gentle giant, who was rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have texted him already to come here…”

Yeosang was surprised again when Hongjoong slapped his back like an old friend does when they see them. “So where to? I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been so burnt out by this university thing,” he rolled his eyes. He sees Yeosang’s hold on you and raises a brow. “Woah, are we interrupting something?”

“Maybe,” you replied cryptically.

“Are you guys together or something?” Jongho blurted out, twirling his car keys on his finger. Leave it to Jongho to be blunt as always.

Yeosang possessively wraps an arm all over your waist from behind and plants his chin on your shoulder. You laughed sheepishly at everybody’s bulged out eyes while Yunho started cackling loudly. “It kinda just happened,” you chuckled.

Yeosang looks at Jongho, who had his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You gonna do something about it, dad?” He joked, making everyone laugh.

Jongho rolled his eyes dramatically, pinching his nose bridge. “Not only do we have to deal with all the crazy energy this group will have in the future,” he stared pointedly at an excited Mingi, who was shaking Yunho’s collar. “But we also have to deal with you two eye-fucking each other constantly. Spare me the drama, please.”

Suddenly, Jongho and Yeosang stared at each other, a million emotions written in their eyes. You nudge your boyfriend closer to Jongho, giving him a reassuring nod. He shyly rubs the back of his neck before turning to everybody.

“Uhm, I’d love to have company in my place,” he began, causing Jongho to raise a brow. “I’ll send everybody the address, it’s only a fifteen minute drive from here.”

You were proud of Yeosang since he was trying to branch out of his comfort space and trying to let people in now so he could move forward and not get stuck in the past where he was all alone.

“You’re you again,” Jongho mumbled softly, sighing. “Can’t say I miss when you were stuck up and walked around like everybody was going to jump on you. You were a major dickhead, Sangie.”

Before Yeosang could reply, he turned to the rest of the group, who were already planning what to do and who should bring the snacks and stuff. “Uh, go ahead and drive on without us,” he gestured to himself and Jongho.

He turned to you with a small, serene smile. You could have cried, he didn’t even need to say anything, he looked so much happier from when you first met him when he threatened you at the library. “You go ahead without me, princess—”

“Princess,” Hongjoong blabbered out, his delight evident in his tone while the other started to jokingly and openly mock you both for being too sweet.

“I have a score to settle with this brute—” he tried to continue.

“I’m literally right here,” Jongho counteracted, holding his hand to his chest as if he was offended.

You hopped and kissed Yeosang in front of everybody, which resulted in a hilarious ruckus before pulling away and dragging Yunho away so you could get in the car with him. You looked back at your boyfriend, subtly giving him a thumbs, mouthing ‘I’m proud at you’ before completely turning around.

Both Yeosang and Jongho watched as everyone’s car started to peel out of the parking lot one by one underneath the red setting sun of the sky. It painted such a beautiful picture and it set the mood for what was about to come.

Yeosang had a small sense of dread woven into his nervousness. To be fair, it would have been odd if he wasn’t nervous, this was the first time he was talking to Jongho after he had pretty much ghosted him for months, disappearing on him like he did with Wooyoung.

“Listen,” he started, his anxiety through the roof. “I know you’re mad and you have the right to be, but I want you to know that I’m very sorry.”

It was now or never, his relationship with Jongho was on the line. He loved you, but he can’t just turn his back completely to the other person he grew up with. Jongho sighed, the sound of it harsh and unwelcoming.

“I am, I still am,” the latter huffed out. Yeosang hated it, but he understood why. “At least you know how to grasp the situation and you’re not in denial anymore. You piss me off so damn much, you know?”

“I understand,” he breathed out, kicking a nearby pebble off of the ground onto nowhere in particular. This was it, he thought, he had lost Jongho forever.

However, he wasn’t expecting a nudge on the shoulder and a friendly ruffle of his hair. He groaned, as self-deprecating as he was with his appearance, he hated his hair being messed up, and Jongho knew that.

“You’re a goddamn fool,” Jongho shook his head after. He choked out a laugh from his chest. “I’m mad at you for doing this to yourself. I’m mad at you for blaming yourself even though it wasn’t your fault. I’m mad at you for letting those assholes bully you and bring you down.”

“But mostly of all,” Jongho spoke in finality. “I’m mad at you for not letting me help and be there for you when you needed it the most.”

And with that, Jongho finally smiled, his teeth and gums all baring out like the sunshine for him to see. Finally, the last burden off of his shoulders and chest was finally being lifted away. They both laughed out loud as they both got into their cars, which were coincidentally parked next to each other.

“So, you and Y/, huh?” Jongho smirked, the playfulness that Yeosang knew him to have back on his face. How he missed it so.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hopping into the driver’s seat and rolling the window down so he could still talk to Jongho. “She’s changed me, you know? I mean, I could tell you all the details—”

“Spare me,” Jongho groaned, honking to stop him from talking. “I get it, but I don’t wanna know all the juicy details of your relationship. Just don’t hurt her, or you’ll get a taste of this.”

He lifted his fists up in the air, waving them around comically and causing Yeosang to laugh out loud so much, his tummy and his sides started to ache and cramp up. This was it, this was all he needed. How had he been such a fool to let all of this go? Suddenly, your face popped up in his mind, and he smiled. He vowed to make you happy, for you had given him so much without knowing and asking for anything in return.

“Where to?” Jongho asked after he turned his car on, the sound of the engine being the background noise of it all. It was so fitting.

“You know my dad’s penthouse? The one near yours?”

Jongho’s eyes bulged out. “That’s where you’ve been staying? Fuck, I should’ve known,” he shook his head. Suddenly, he turned to Yeosang with an impish smirk, the delinquency in his face palpable and hard to miss. “Like the old times?”

Yeosang didn’t get it at first, until Jongho revved his engine, smoke coming out of the exhaust at a faster rate, and he laughed, revving his own engine competitively with a grin. When they were younger, they would race each other anywhere - the streets, a dirt road, anywhere. It wasn’t legal, by all means, because they really were young at one point.

“Loser buys dinner for the entire crew?” Jongho chided, his laughter filling the air.

It was contagious and Yeosang went ahead and pressed on the gas. “Deal.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

111 notes · View notes

treatbuckywkisses · 2 days ago

Text

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika

What did the powers do

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

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#time after time #nika <3 #i am not okay #i need to go to bed

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