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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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Of Matches and Dates | Bandit x fem!reader

[video by rodnae productions from pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: with Valentine’s Day around the corner, Dominic’s friends have managed to convince him to download a dating app. (Not requested, but inspired by the lovely @kind-wolf as always)

✏️ A/N: this is just a lil something for Valentine’s day. I’m still working on my fluff skills :’) Domi’s dating profile is at the bottom of the fic: it took me forever to make but I’m so proud :’) enjoy 💛

✏️ Warnings: none :’)

✏️ Word-count: 5,274

OF MATCHES AND DATES

The club is packed — and Dominic is too tired to even care, for once. His back is burning, and there’s a nasty gash on his left thigh that a doctor has stitched up too tightly and that’s constantly making him ground his teeth every time the muscle tenses up.

He’s forgotten whose stupid idea it was to go out clubbing not even three hours after coming back from a mission on the other face of the Earth, but he does remember he’s there to be Eli’s wingman just in case his date dumps him last minute. It won’t happen, of course, but the kid still worries when it comes to a pretty lady he’s matched with on Matcher.

Matcher is the latest novelty at the base, or so that’s the impression he’s had ever since his jet landed not so long ago. Even Monika has signed up for an account — It’s great to pass time, Domi! You should download it, it’s free, or that’s what she said the second before tearing his phone from his hands to download it herself.

“Here, I brought you drink!” Alexsandr tears him from his musings — and the dull soreness still crawling underneath his skin — and unceremoniously slaps a shot of vodka on the small, high table he’s been leaning against. By the time the glass is halfway to his lips, Dominic has the time to notice half of its contents have sloshed out onto the metal surface of that dingy thing; he doesn’t care: he simply tilts his head back, lets the alcohol wash down his throat and prays it’ll numb everything to a low hum.

“Where is everyone else?” he asks, hissing when someone bumps into his back in passing. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt like every single muscle in his body felt so pulled and tight, but he’s already set up his mind to barge into Harry’s office the next morning and ask for — or demand — the longest leave he’s ever thought of asking.

Alex shrugs and quickly empties the shot he has in his right hand, for the one in his left is already empty. The bar is right behind them, though, so they both know they’ll be making back and forth more times than one would rather know. “Somewhere in there,” he replies, jutting his chin in the general direction of the mess of bodies behind Dominic’s back. “Adriano has a date, too, so he ditched us.”

“So did Elias, Monika and Seamus.” He turns around briefly, throws a look around to try and see if he can get a glimpse of the friends they’ve come here with, but miserably fails.

“Stupid dating apps, making men our age third-wheel like this.” Alexsandr groans something in Russian then, but it’s under his breath and Dominic would never be able to tell what that was with the noise in there — he also doesn’t speak Russian, he finds himself realizing a minute too late. “But I met the French at the bar, they rented out a VIP room for the night.”

“We should gatecrash it.”

Ten minutes later, eight of which spent downing one drink after the other in the vain attempt to outdrink each other, both men walk into the French’s VIP room behind Gustave Kateb, whose English has already started slurring into French when he doesn’t focus enough.

The French aren’t the only people there: Marius sends Dominic a pleading look as Lion fills his head with his usual bullshit, and a bunch of recruits who’ve somehow had the chance to hang around the more seasoned operators sit on the couch on the far left of the room and listen to what Y/N and Finka are enlightening them with. The two women turn around to greet them and although Dominic’s eyes trail down the plummeting neckline of Y/N’s shimmery top, he still has enough attention to spare to notice how the rookies hang from her lips as she keeps on talking.

Alexsandr’s exclamation of jubilee, however, tears him from the sight of the only one he’s had a crush on for a long time now and there’s nothing he can do to stop the other from dragging him towards the couch Montagne is sitting on with not one, not two, but three bottles of vodka on the low table in front of him.

“What do a Russian, a French and a German have in common?” Gilles asks, raising a shot glass and chuckling drunkenly as icy droplets of alcohol trail down the glass and onto the still-bruised skin between his right thumb and forefinger.

“Their hatred for this goddamn dating app?”

But Alex slaps him up the back of his head as he takes the shot their tipsy friend is handing him. “Alcohol!” he booms, making more than a couple of heads turn around before drinking his glass dry as though it didn’t contain but water.

They end up sitting together, Dominic to the right and Alexsandr to the left of Montagne, their knees pressing into each other’s as they joke and drink. They’re the only three in the room that have just come back from a mission abroad, and no one comes to bother them for a long time as they try to relax and let go. The topic of discussion, however, quickly shifts back to the fucking dating app.

Matcher seems to be all the rage, and it somehow manages to sneak its way into even the most unassuming conversations. Neither of them would by now be able to assert with utmost certainty if there truly is someone at the base that doesn’t use it — apart from the people that have spent the last two weeks on a mission, completely detached from the civilian world, that is.

“I’ve heard Blitz has already had something like fifteen dates so far, in less than three weeks at that!” Gilles’ English is softened and slurred out by his French, the same French that always comes back every time he goes beyond a certain threshold when it comes to drinking.

“Fifteen?!” Alexsandr almost cries out, comically counting on his fingers until he’s reached the right number, almost as though by doing that, he’ll be able to fully comprehend the extent of Elias’ adventures.

“He’s fucked with only seven of them, though,” adds Dominic, tipping down another shot before leaning back against his seat, spreading his arms on the backrest and letting his hands hang against the cool faux leather.

Yet again, Alex counts on his fingers — up to seven, and then up to fifteen, just to see how big the difference between the two is. “Christ,” is his only comment just before he takes a long sip straight from the bottle, long enough to finish the two fingers of liquid that remain in it.

“Monique made me download it,” and it takes them a minute to put two and two together and realize Gilles is talking about IQ in his frenchified English. “Snatched mon portable from my hands and gave it back with that fucking app on my home screen.”

Dominic scoffs, the French’s experience with his colleague hitting closer to home than he would have thought possible before today. “Did the same to me. If you had given her five minutes more, she would’ve created an account for you like she did mine.”

They’re curious, both the French and the Russian, and while Gilles is chill, Dominic knows Alexsandr is not going to let him live this down. So, their quick Show us! turns into some rearranging on their seats so that Dominic ends up finding himself trapped between his two friends, looming over him like some vultures.

“Since when do you like cooking dates?” asks Alex when the app opens on Dominic’s personal profile page.

“Monika chose everything, said ‘pussy’ isn’t respectable enough as an interest. Cooking dates apparently work better at getting women, or so she says.”

“You sure she didn’t want you to match up with her?”

“Don’t listen to Frenchie, show us who it makes you match with!” Alex’s hand is quick at shooting out, but Dominic is quicker, pulling his phone away so that his now pouting friend can’t get a hold of it.

“I’ll use it. I don’t want you messing up my app.”

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of having it.”

“And I don’t! I’m just bored!”

But he still touches the search icon, and the other two almost hold their breaths as they wait for the shitty reception inside the club to allow the page to fully load and replace the pulsating hearts of the logo to leave their place to profile pictures.

The first is a 37-year-old woman with curly ginger hair and eyes of two different colors — they’re both brown, but there’s some blue in the left one, as well.

“Pretty,” says Gilles just as Dominic reads what her profession is — florist. “Match with her.”

But Dom is good — and he tells them that, pushing their hands away from his phone to prevent them from doing things with his app. “Make your own account and stop bugging me about mine,” he replies as his fingers tap the bubble with the golden star icon — not a match, more like a ‘save for later’ and although he’s had plenty of one-night stands, ‘saving’ someone ‘for later’ makes him feel fifty different shades of dirty.

The second woman is South African, a bit too far away, but with his job, he could end up anywhere in the world. So, he saves Bea for later before Alex makes him change his search parameters so that the system would find people closer to his actual location.

There’s a barista he’s seen plenty of times at the pub he and Marius often go to. She’s pretty, on the tall side, with hair cut chin-level short and a tattoo that snakes its way up the side of her neck and that he now sees trails down deeper underneath the low-cut tank top she’s wearing in her profile picture. Matcher says her name is Andrea, so he can now put his curiosity to sleep and stop wondering how he should call her.

Alexsandr taps the two-heart button to match him up with her before he can stop him, and the three of them sit there for a long time — or so at least it seems, with the rest of the party blatantly ignoring them as operators come and go as they please — checking out women and deciding what to do with them. And really, it sounds so bad in Dom’s mind when he puts it into those words — they’re judging someone based on one picture and literally three other facts about them — but that’s still the truth of the thing. Some women end up in the starred ‘save for later’ section — which they’ve found out is much nicer than it seems and it’s just a way to still be able to chat without necessarily match yet —, some get skipped, and Andrea is still the only one in his matches — she still has to match back with him, and deep down Dominic can’t help but wonder how their next encounter at the pub is going to feel like.

It’s endless profiles later, when Montagne stands up to ‘go piss’ — or so he says, kicking finesse out of the window — that a familiar face pops up on the app.

Alex chuckles, almost choking on his hundredth vodka, taken by the surprise of such a sight. “Hey! But that’s —” He’s cut off when Dominic elbows him in his left side, where he knows Alex is bruised — there’s no need to yell Y/N’s name in a room full of people drinking, talking and — he notices when he quickly looks around to make sure no one is paying them any mind — making out in the love-seat in a corner.

Dominic should have expected it, really, Monika did tell him everyone and their mother has downloaded Matcher at the base, and that includes Y/N, but he’s still taken aback because he’s had a crush on her for the longest time now and while he has balls of steel and he’s known for it, he still has… problems approaching her when it doesn’t come to missions or training.

But by God, is she pretty! Both in-person and in that picture still floating on his screen. There’s a sunflower field behind her and she’s sporting trekking boots, camo shorts, and a white tank top on a dusty, Ukrainian road. He was there, when the picture was taken — seven months ago, during the last mission they had been deployed to together — with a bunch of other operators, of course. They had taken a couple of days off when things had been wrapped and some of them had stayed behind before finally coming back to Hereford.

And there she is, grinning at him from up close — technologically speaking, that is —, dog tags disappearing between her breasts under her tank top and her head tilted to the side, eyes almost squinting against the late-morning sun. There’s everything on her profile bubble — less than ten miles away, her age, her country of origin, and then that vague ‘police’ typed out next to the white icon of a briefcase, a description Monika’s put into his profile as well.

“So?” But Alex is distracted by Gilles coming back and sitting down once again next to Dominic, and he doesn’t continue.

“Found anyone interesting while I was gone?”

“Y/N,” is Alex’s unsolicited reply. “But this chicken won’t do shit about it.”

Dominic groans. “Why do you have to be so annoying? Jesus! There, matched her. You happy now?” he complains, tapping the match! bubble with the two hearts before he has much time to overthink. “It’ll make for a good laugh when she opens her app.”

They’re all bored anyway, and he’s known for — almost — always choosing the fun way of doing something. She will match him, send him a haha domi gotcha! great to see u on this app — all lowercase, often with that ‘u’ instead of ‘you’ — through the chat feature, and then they’ll be able to laugh it off during training. It could make for a nice sort of inside joke, he muses as he puts his phone away for the night and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

By the time his friends drag him back to the dance floor to try and loosen up their sore muscles, he’s received some matching requests and more than just ‘a few’ messages in his chat from so many different people that he feels his head is spinning.

It’s early morning already when he, Alex and Gilles wait for their Uber to come and pick them up, all of them with more drinks in their body than there is water. The other two have downloaded Matcher for shits and giggles and are now busy sorting through their recommended profiles.

They’ve all warmed up to it — they’ve all used other dating apps in the past, so one more is not a problem, even more when they’re easily bored and with fewer and fewer ideas on how to pass the time they spend between missions.

It’s only when Alexsandr complains that Why am I not getting hot operators too? with a comic pout on his face that Dominic’s phone goes off vibrating in the back pocket of his pants for the millionth time. He picks it out to finally delete the stupid app — too many notifications in too little time, and he’s too tired to be patient.

The notification message reads It’s a match! with an obnoxious sparkling heart emoji, though, and that suddenly turns his mood around and makes him curious. He hasn’t got a real, mutual match yet, just lots of stars that are probably enough to light up the night sky. So he unlocks his phone, opens the app, and after the rather-cheesy explosion of hearts going off on the screen, he finally sees who’s matched him back and the name both knocks the wind out of him and makes him laugh, all at the same time.

He brings it up to her the next day. It’s just after his training session, when he’s walking around the grounds of the Base to take his mind off of things and Y/N is leaving the armory facility. She waves at him, and he can’t but jog up to her to walk with her for a bit.

There’s some small talk, stuff about plans for this next stretch of time before a mission, catching up like friends or colleagues do, and then he drops it — Now that we’ve matched on that dating app, we should go on a date! He says it with a smile in his eyes and laughter in his voice, but it all fades into silence when he realizes that what he’s seeing on her face is confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

He frowns. Maybe she doesn’t remember it. “We matched on Matcher last night. I got your notification when I left the club.” It comes off as a question — what could have been an attempt at shooting his shot in a best-case scenario or something done out of fun in any other case, seems to be quickly turning around to bite him in the ass.

The look on her face is of utter mortification as she looks up at him, realization slowly and then quickly catching up on her like some avalanche. ‘Mortified’ is the last thing he would have thought to see on her face, and he’s taken aback, for once he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Maybe she doesn’t do older. Or she doesn’t do colleagues. Or maybe she sees him as a big brother — most of the recruits seem to somehow see him that way for the first months, despite him never doing anything to even remotely prompt that kind of behavior.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she finally says, hiding her face behind her hands. “I was shit-faced last night. Lera and I were fucking around with my app since she says I always get the hot ones, I must’ve done it at that moment. I didn’t think I’d get people from the Base, I’m so sorry. Forget about that, please: I didn’t want to make things weird.”

He’s… bummed, there’s no other way to put it. It kind of stings his pride, in a way, but he sees where she’s coming from. He just… didn’t expect for her to not take it jokingly — after all, they are similar in that, and their sense of humor always makes them find the fun side in almost anything.

“Nah, don’t worry.”

But he’s still thinking about it three days later, and both Marius and Elias, and then Monika, Gilles and Alex as well, have tried to come up with a way to fix it — they don’t exactly know what needs fixing, it’s just a stupid dating app, but the look in Y/N’s eyes is still mortified every time Dominic crosses her path.

It’s only when he’s chilling with Lera and Elias on Wednesday night, discussing possible plans for Valentine’s day, coming up on Sunday, that the topic of Matcher and the apparently dramatic match with Y/N crawls its way into the conversation once more. It’s just the three of them in the lounge room, feet up on the coffee table or on the long part of the L-shaped couch, legs crossed at the ankles.

And for a moment it’s like going back to stupid high school crushes when Lera lets it slip that Y/N is simply too embarrassed to admit that she squealed and giggled like a teenager when she got Domi’s match request over the weekend. That that is the reason why she’s so mortified and she — Lera — is tired of trying to convince her that there’s nothing wrong in finding a colleague hot. Brunsmeier is a handsome man, I’d be surprised if the thought had never crossed your mind! — that’s how she recounts it, glancing at Dominic and shrugging her shoulders.

“She’s just afraid the truth might come out,” she says. “To which I’m not opposed, I’m tired of hearing her babble about it every time she starts doubting herself.”

At first, Dominic’s only reply is a pensive hum as he brings the almost-empty beer bottle to his lips for a sip. “I didn’t think she’d somehow take it personally. I would’ve expected her to joke about it, that’s why I was confused.”

They end up thinking of a plan — send her flowers and chocolates, with a note attached, and then show up at her and Lera’s shared dorm room to take her out on a Valentine’s date. His playful crush isn’t that much of a secret when it comes to his friends, after all: he does get drunk — eventually — and he does let his tongue loose — loose enough to hint at stuff he wouldn’t exactly boast while sober.

So, the next day, they put their plan into motion. A delivery man delivers Y/N the biggest bouquet of roses Dominic has managed to find on the website of a nearby flower shop at almost one in the morning, and it’s not only a surprise to her, but to all the operators and recruits that have stayed behind in the mess hall after breakfast as well.

They watch as she eyes the bouquet, lips parted, a frown of almost suspicion on her face — and from that table, Lera sends him a knowing smirk and a raise of an eyebrow that seems to tell him that she was not expecting such an obnoxious thing.

The exchange doesn’t miss Monika’s eye, and the operator is quick at putting two and two together. She slaps his bicep, and when he turns around to glare at her, almost intimidating her to shut her mouth, she smirks. “Look at you, who would’ve thought?” Her German is hushed, and it makes their fellow German colleagues chuckle, too. “Decided to make a move?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I told you that app wasn’t that bad!” she adds when Elias tells her how things have come to that.

The next day, Dominic makes sure Lera leaves his box of Swiss pralines on Y/N’s bed — and she promptly texts him back when her roommate and friend finds it after her monthly session in Harry’s office.

When Saturday comes around, Y/N’s confusion has taken the place of the mortified look in her eyes, and Lera has started trying to convince him to come forward before her friend would start thinking of some joke. Y/N’s not the type to get spooked out — a last-minute secret admirer just in time for Valentine’s day delivering gifts is the least dangerous thing she’s probably ever come across, but he knows it’s time to ask her out.

He finds her in the very lounge room Elias and Lera talked him into moving things forward. She’s sitting on the window bench, staring out at the park of the base and at the flour-like snowflakes coming down and twirling in the wind, before it turns into rain before nightfall.

“Hey,” she greets him before he has time to make a sound, seeing his reflection in the windowpane. “If you’re going to tease me for the ginormous bouquet I got the other day like everyone else did, please don’t.” She chuckles, though, and turns around when he sits at the other end of the bench.

“Nah, I won’t be childish this time.” There’s a grin on his face as he pulls his feet up and rests his arms on his bent knees, teasing her own leg with a foot for a moment just to make her laugh. “Have any clues on who the secret admirer is?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m quite sure Lera knows who this is, but I haven’t been able to tear it out of her yet.”

It’s quiet for a while before Dominic starts saying Look, there’s something I— before he stops mid-sentence and looks up at her. She’s staring back at him almost expectantly, when someone dashes through the hall and distracts them for a moment.

“I’m sorry that match made you feel the way it did,” he says, “but I’m still glad I sent my request. And I know deep down you are too, you’re just afraid of things going the wrong way.” When she frowns, her lips parting, he scoots closed and lays a hand on her knee. “A little bird told me.”

“Yeah, a Russian one, maybe?” She covers her face with her hands, much like she did at the beginning of the week, before she sighs. “Lera likes to babble.”

“I don’t mind.” His hand gives her knee a gentle squeeze, and he waits for her to look at him again. “It finally gave me the excuse to ask you out on Valentine’s day. If you’re down for it, that is.”

On Sunday, he shows up at her door at half-past six, wearing fucking tux pants for once in his life. He’s cleaned up nice — trimmed his beard a bit, combed his hair back with some cream, stole a few drops of Alex’s perfume when he and Gilles made themselves at home in his room while he was getting ready. She’s begged him to skip the roses next time, and so he’s standing there with a bunch of wildflowers in one hand, wondering why the fuck there’s butterflies in his stomach.

She’s just as beautiful as ever when she opens the door, and Lera is nowhere to be found when she invites him in so that she can put his flowers in some water. Red dress, black coat, killer heels, painted lips — she almost takes his breath away.

“You’re stunning.” The honesty in his voice makes her stutter for a moment before he lets her give him a hug.

“You’re not any less,” she grins, pecking his cheek before following him outside and then to the garage level.

He makes her ride behind him on his bike, and the dinner at the overpriced fancy restaurant he’s managed to book last-minute passes in a flash. But even despite that, he doesn’t miss the way she warms up — and opens up — the more they chat: long gone is the mortification he knows she’s felt at the idea of possibly having made things awkward or of having given her crush on him away, and they actually find themselves getting to know each other better through tales from both missions and their civilian lives and childhood.

When they’re forced to leave the restaurant to leave their place to the second turn of patrons on such a busy February night, they walk around the center of the city arm in arm, both wrapped up tightly in their jackets and with their helmets in hand. They talk and talk, and the more they do, the more that faint shadow of embarrassment they felt throughout the week evaporates from their shoulders much like the condensation leaving their lips.

Neither of them is in the mood to return to Hereford just yet. It’s nice to be out and about, doing normal things, falling for what Dominic considers a well-thought-out marketing strategy — although he won’t lie by saying he’d rather be doing something else tonight, or spend time with someone else.

“I’m glad you matched me,” she suddenly confesses, the both of them hurrying up to cross the street before the traffic light turns red. “I would’ve never had the guts to. And I’m glad you did what you did and that we’re now here.”

He grins at her, pulling her closer into his side by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Vodka is the best remedy against bullshitting instead of taking action,” he jokes, and she laughs.

He stares at her as she does, unable to keep in that chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sure, Sanya always says the same bullshit,” she laughs, shaking her head before pointing at the bowling alley with her helmet, her other arm wrapped securely around his waist. “I don’t wanna go back yet. What do you think about some bowling?”

When they get back at the Base at around three in the morning, Dominic has a rip in the crotch of his pants and they’re both still giggling like kids at the memory of how comically loud the ripping sound seemed when he bent to throw his ball. They were joking around, in the bowling track further from the entrance, when it happened and she had to stand right behind him as he walked back to their booth, both of them laughing loudly, his cheeks burning red in an uncharacteristic moment of embarrassment.

“Bring me your pants when you wake up, I’ll fix them for you,” she chuckles, her hand still wrapped tightly in his.

“We should go bowling again,” he replies instead, looking down at her, now a bit shorter since she’s walking barefoot, her heels in his other hand. “With a proper attire this time, though.”

“Sure, why not?” Her excitement makes him smile, and even in the night lights always on throughout the Base during the night, he can see how her eyes seem to grin up at him. “I’d be ecstatic to watch you lose miserably a second time.”

“You only had luck!” But it’s not a real complaint — after all, he is shit at bowling, but he’s loved spending tonight with her and he’d be happy to replicate it more than just once. “And I let you win.”

“Of course.” Her chuckle is low now that they’re in the sleeping quarters.

And although they should go to bed and get ready for the day of training and simulations awaiting for them when they wake up, they still seem to linger, standing there, in front of the door of her dorm, still hand in hand, smiling at each other.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says eventually, taking a step closer to give him a quick good-night hug, and she grabs her heels when he hands them to her.

“Likewise. I really enjoyed it. We should do it again.” He puts the idea out there, but when she smiles sweetly at him all his doubts seem to sizzle and evaporate.

“We should,” she nods, her fingers playing with his.

“Just ring me up when you’re free from your Matcher dates,” he grins, winking at her, hinting at the quite numerous dates she told him she had since downloading the app.

“Nah, I’m deleting it. I got the one match that matters most, so there’s no reason in keeping on looking.” She balances herself by putting both hands on his shoulders and pecks the corner of his mouth. “Good night, Domi.”

When he opens the door of his room, still grinning, the last thing he’s expecting to find is some of his friends waiting around for him just to know how his date has gone.

“So?” Monika asks, standing up from where she’s been sitting in his desk chair, eyes tired and hair tousled.

“We brought vodka,” Alex grins, raising an almost empty bottle while Gilles points at the empty glasses on the nightstand. “We’ve been waiting for this day for too long!”

“Sorry, man,” Marius says from his bed, both eyes closed and ankles crossed.

“We couldn’t stop them and shooting them dead wasn’t an option,” is what Elias aads, and Dominic knows it’s going to be a long night. But when he’s done talking, he knows he’s deleting that goddamn app, too.

[credits: psd (mine) | dominic | random guy #1 | random guy #2]

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

#dominic brunsmeier #r6s bandit #dominic brunsmeier x reader #r6s bandit x reader #r6s imagine #dominic brunsmeier imagine #r6s bandit imagine #rainbow six siege imagine #angelaiswriting

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petalshields · 3 years ago

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[ ELLIOT KNIGHT, HE/HIM, CIS MAN ] — [ SABER WINSLOWE ] is a child of [ EPIONE ] with the power of [ PAIN SUPPRESSION + PATHOKINESIS ] . they were born in [ 1993 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2008 ] . with the change, they [ GRADUATED FROM ] the [ MEDICAL ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ COUNSELING + READING + TRYING TO FEEL SOMETHING ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ SUN ] building . — garnet / she/her / kst / 18+ / @nlupdates

it’s garnet ya’ll already know the vibes. this long as hell but bear with me.

Saber’s pinterest is here!

BIOGRAPHY!

saber did not grow up knowing the people he called his Ma and Pa were not his biological parents. Ma and Pa lived in a red barn hidden acres deep in rural New Haven, Kentucky and they prayed every night for a child that they couldn’t seem to conceive. one night, a woman appeared with her three-year-old son in tow, explaining that his father died in a tragic accident. the winslowes welcomed him inside and the woman disappeared into thin air. it wasn’t until the boy, who told them his name was saber, was fed, bathed, and asleep that they questioned where the woman came from. unbeknownst to them, it was the goddess of recovery epione, who just lost one of her mortal lovers and decided that saber could be the answer to the winslowe couple’s prayers.

starting he was around nine-years-old, saber bounced from foster home to foster home. he was taken from his doting parents who weren’t at all neglectful nor inattentive, but a concerned doctor reported the frequency of his hospital visits and the severity of his injuries. as a rambunctious lad who was always too curious, saber collected injuries the way other kids his age might’ve collected bugs. it did not help that he appeared to have an exceedingly high pain tolerance, and he wasn’t aware that a part of his body was wounded until someone pointed it out or he fell forward because his leg was broken.

while his parents were being investigated, at around the age of twelve, saber was placed in a particularly volatile household. its chaos could be felt the moment that he stepped inside. nonetheless, saber always had the gift of being a calming presence to those around him. even at his young age, he sympathized with others and always helped those in need, but he noticed that emotions could change quickly if he touched them. he could place two fingers on someone’s pulse and the heart of a mourning person would no longer thud under his fingertips, their sorrow drying on their cheeks. saber had the same effect on his aggressive foster family, who he would touch on the shoulder, elbow, or hand to calm them down. they’d always shake him off, but their mood visibly shifted, and saber would watch them walk away from the battle they’d almost started. he couldn’t relate to such extreme displays of emotion — while he wasn’t without empathy, he did not feel deeply for himself.

emotions became a puzzle that he wanted to solve, and saber poured over books about the topic to better understand his foster family. it was his obsession and he began to absorb random facts about how the brain functioned. this led saber into reading more, curiosity becoming less physical and tactile and more intellectual, using a flashlight under his covers at night to consume more knowledge.

when saber was thirteen, going on fourteen in a few days, he was claimed by epione sending a garter snake into his box-sized front lawn. saber, who was outside at the time, bent down to examine the creature, and when he looked up, there was a woman that he’d never seen before standing with his social worker. His social worker introduced him to his mother and explained that he’d be going with them to a new place, giving him time to pack his suitcase with his things. he did as he was told, waving goodbye to his foster family. they grumbled about having one less mouth to feed.

in the car, saber couldn’t stop looking at his mother, who was so familiar yet a stranger, and it was then that his social worker told him about his godly heritage. that because he’d been claimed by his mother, he was in danger, so he had to go somewhere he could be kept safe. that somewhere was nemean lion.

saber was a little awkward at first, but he found his strides, excelling in his training. he stayed in the standard track for the first year before switching to medical. many thought that he could have been a hero because of his bravery and his inability to feel pain, but he chose to follow his passion in trying to crack the brain. he received basic medical training, but by the time he was eighteen, he remained on campus for a little bit longer to study psychology.

at nemean lion, saber became close with another boy, another demigod. saber never had a crush before and he didn’t feel the clichés. the affinity that he felt towards the other boy was chosen rather than felt — he chose to speak with him for hours, he chose to go on dates with him, and he chose to kiss him back. in addition, saber also vowed to never change the other boy’s emotions with his ability — it was nice to have something that flourished organically without manipulation on his part.

homophobia tw: saber and his boyfriend married immediately after graduation and he brought his new husband back to meet Ma and Pa. the aging couple was set in their ways, and though they tried, they did not approve of saber marrying someone so quickly. when saber asked them if they would have approved if he did the same with a woman, he found their answer in their hesitance. his husband stormed out and saber filed behind him. “why didn’t you say anything?” his husband spat at him. saber didn’t say anything in response, understanding the reason for the reproach, that perhaps he should have said something, but he also logically understood that their bigotry wasn’t his problem. he touched his husband’s cheek, absorbing the pain and anger, something he swore he’d never do to his husband. but he did, and for the remainder of their time together, he didn’t forgive himself for it.

saber and his husband had a few honeymoon years before the marriage unraveled, but saber wasn’t aware of the unraveling. he came home one night to find his husband packing his bags, claiming that he no longer felt that spark between them and he hadn’t for a while now. saber simply responded that he didn’t notice, withholding that he felt the distance between them increase but couldn’t do anything about it, didn’t know what to do. he didn’t want to use his power to fabricate contentment, even love, where there was little to none. his husband said “you never notice, because you don’t know how to care.” it was an act of caring, however, that saber let him go find whatever would make him happy. shortly after, the divorce papers were filed, and his last name legally changed back to winslowe.

saber owns his own private practice, and he services both humans and demigods. the whole point of his character is that he’s telling other people how to get their lives together while his own is a hot mess, and he can be a bit of a hypocrite. but it be like that!

WANTED CONNECTIONS!

CLIENTS: everybody needs a lil therapy

EX-HUBBY: i’ll probably put a wanted connection in for this, but if you think that your muse could have been married to Saber....i just think we could have that conversation.

SOCRATIC CIRCLE: ezra stokes and sila demir zerhouni are part of this little group, where they get together and discuss intellectual stuff over coffee. if you think your muse would be interested in joining them, let me know!

MENTEES: the mind’s just as important as the body, and i imagine saber has a lot of insight that’s useful for other medical track kids. however it doesn’t have to be restricted to just the med kids, let him be ur dad friend.

CONFIDANT: someone who saber can hit up and be like “so do you feel nothing or is it just me” u feel me??

OLD FRIENDS/LIKE SIBLINGS: saber tries to be a good person and he really values his connections, so he maintains his friendships. he definitely got his shit rocked by his husband suddenly divorcing him so he really wants to figure out how to have relationships that mean something to other people.

ANYTHING: hit my line babes

#not this length #it took me three months to write this lKJDSLAF #nlintro #saber

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gxngsoflondon · 4 years ago

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As The World Caves In - Part 1/?(Sean Wallace x Reader)

A/N: Hi guys! This first chapter is mainly background information, so bear with me (its not the most action packed chapter but it is 100% necessary).This is going to be a pretty long series so lemme know if you want to be added to a tag list xxxx

Materlist!

Part 1: Bang Bang! (My Baby Shot Me Down)

Nothing good ever becomes of the girl unfortunate enough to fall in love with a Wallace.

There is blood, thick pools of the stuff, not all of it yours.

There is too much blood.

You are running out of time.

This is how you’re going to die, you are sure of it now. But before you do, they are going to take him away from you.They are going to pull everything worth living for out of your sorry little world.

Sean.

You will not let them take Sean from you. You will make sure that he’s safe.

You hear them coming now.

This is it.

/// 16 Years Before \\\

A giggle fills the garden.

It’s more of a squeal in all honesty, carefree and silly and full of joy. Children’s laughter. The innocence of a little girl’s giggle is out of place here.

Innocence is out of place here.

“Ha! Sean! You’re out!” you call “I got you fair and square.”

Three fathers and three mothers sit on black woven garden furniture. Wallace, Dumali, Anderson, London crime royalty. There is no business to attend to today so they are also laughing, glasses of champagne in hand as they watch their children play on wooden stick horses in the April sunshine.

“Nuh uh Y/N! You didn’t shout BANG”

“Yes I did!”

“I didn’t hear you”

“Me neither”

“I did! I did! You’re all dead!’

“You absolutely did not”

You are tall for your age. A pretty white dress, white tights, pristine white shoes, but your pigtails are falling out, the dainty white ribbons becoming a tangled mess and you run to keep up with the boys.

Billy. Skinny, ears and elbows jutting out, a mop of curly brown hair.

Alex. Taller, dimpled cheeks and nervous eyes, deep chocolate skin.

Sean. Grinning, exploding with freckles, blonde eyelashes so long they tangled themselves.

“Watch, like this Y/N,” Sean says patiently, turning his fingers into a gun “BANG! BANG!”

Billy and Alex theatrically hit the ground, taking great pleasure in twitching and convulsing as they pretend to die.

You gallop towards them just as Alex starts to sit up.

“BANG!” you yell and he falls down again. Sean is smirking at you as you both trot together, linking arms as you parade around victorious. You stand on your tiptoes and you kiss his cheek, sparking fits of laughter from Alex and vomiting sounds from Billy.

“She’s precious that one,” Marian coos, she is watching you as you march the length of the garden clutching her own son. She adores you, loves you almost as much as her own.

Your mother laughs.

“She’s not all sweetness and sugar, i’d check you’ve got all of your jewlery when we leave she’s going through a ‘borrowing without permission’ phase,”

Finn guffaws

“Still a damnsight sweeter than my boys”

“You might be stuck with her, she came up to me the other day asking ‘When I marry Sean will I get to stay at Aunty Marians all the time?’”

Marian grins again.

“I guess Alex is out of luck then,” chuckles Mrs Dumani. She is sat cross legged on the grass with the girls. Jacquline and Shannon are oil painting canvases, something not even the promise of sweets would bribe you into doing.

Trust me, your mother had already tried.

She wished you’d stay away from the boys, even further away from the family business.

Gangs are no place for little girls.

“My daddy’s going to show us a real gun!” Alex says as you watch all three fathers approach you, “Now that Billy’s seven, we’re all old enough,”

“But- I’m still five?”

“Yes but Y/N you're a girl,” says Billy pointedly, grimacing with the word as if it tastes foul.

You scowl at your brother Tom, a teenager now, as he picks you up and carts you back to your mother.

You love Tommy more than anybody in the world, so you only kick him twice.

”Why can’t I stay with the boys! None of this is fair!” you announce, your arms are crossed, lip pouting in defiance.

Your mother isn’t phased, she’s been practicing this conversation. The Wallace and Dumani mothers are smiling encourangling at her, they have been here before themselves.

They will raise smart daughters, undeniably good and honest and strong.

Their husbands will raise smart businessmen, undeniably rich, undeniably powerful.

“Look at you darling, you are my treasure. I love you very much,” Your mother is stroking your hair and when you try to pull away, she cups her hand to your cheek. ‘And you know why we stay away from Daddy’s business, don’t you”

“I know but-’

“That’s right, to keep you safe and sound dear,”

This isn’t the first time you’ve shown interest in the family business. That’s what is worrying Mrs Anderson and what is making her face settle into an unsupressable frown.

“But-”

It is Marian Wallace that speaks next.

“Try and listen to your mother Y/N”

She is looking at you with a firm, no bullshit stare. You know this is an order.

‘It's not fair! They get to-”

“Y/N, it’s a scary world out there. There is no place for you in that horriblness do you understand?” a more mellow Mrs Dumani says.

Yet, you don’t understand, how could you? Your mother had done everything in her power to shelter you from the violence attached to your surname.

Only Tom would be expected to contiue the family business.

“But I’m not scared of anything!”

Guillabe, naive, innocent, ditsy. How do you explain to a 5 year old that they inherited a world of death, drugs and crime?

Your brother has an idea. “Man eating spiders, cannibal clowns” He is sneaking up behind you and whispering in your ear

“Thugs, criminals, beasts, Please, they’ll eat you up, alive!”

Your skin takes on a crawling quality, even though you know it’s only Tommy, you are starting to panic.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“But-”

“Also, snakes and large bugs, men with pointy teeth, slimy monsters that creep under your bed at night and swallow you whole”

Any joking quality is removed from Tom's voice. He is doing everything he can to scare you.

It is working. You are only a small child

Guilt flashes on his face when your bottom lip quivers slightly.

“Tommy that’s enough, you’re upsetting her.” Marian again.

You are running straight to your mother, her arms opening to wrap you in a tight embrace.

“You’ll be safe as long as you stay with Mummy okay?”

You agree and she is still cradling you when Finn, Ed and your father return. They had left the boys inside.

“You haven’t been crying have ya?” Finn says. He bends down to ruffle your hair and you shake your head violently.

“Look I know you might want to be like the boys. Personally, I wouldn’t bother, cabbage heads the lot of them. But if you ever see one of these-”

He reaches into his pocket.

And then Finn Wallace gives a five year old girl a gun.

“-I want you to run in the opposite direction, do ya hear me?”

Your mother’s eyes are wide with shock, Marian’s mouth open ready to lecture her husband. But he takes the gun back from you before you can wrap your fingers around it.

“I want you to make me and Uncle Finn a promise Y/N. You wouldn’t lie to us would you? You won’t ever go near one of these will you? It’s very important”

It was your father this time.

“Of course not Daddy,”

“Good, now why don’t you play with Jackie and Shannon?”

“Actually,” your mother says, almost eager to leave now ”I think our drivers here”

You rush through your goodbyes and are herded into the back of the black vehicle. Your daddy sits in the front with the driver, you sit in the middle in the back. You aren’t quite sure why, but you feel the urge to give Tommy a big hug. You do.

As you pull out of the Wallace estate, you see the boys pressed up against a large bay window. Alex is grinning at you, Billy pulling a hideous face and sticking his tongue out. It’s only Sean that is actually waving at you, and you are waving back.

“Why can’t we all live together in one big house Mummy?” you ask.

Your father chuckles.

“Come now Y/N, we’ll be back again tomorrow. Just like always.”

You are smiling as the boys in the window disappear from view, knowing you’ll be back playing with them in the morning. Just like always.

But this is the last time you will see the Wallaces, for a very very long time.

(Part 2!!!)

#gangs of london #sean wallace #sean wallace imagine #gangs of london imagine #joe cole #joe cole imagine #sean wallace x reader #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic #sean wallace fic

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hextiger · 3 years ago

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More Research Excerpts

This time it's Der Alptraum in Beziehung zu gewissen Formen mittelalterlichen Aberglaubens. (English: The Nightmare in Relation to Certain Forms of Medieval Superstition).

You can find the PDF here via Project Gutenberg, but it's in German.

For context though: this appeared in 1902 in a magazine published by Sigmund Freud. That fact is very much apparent throughout.

Introduction

"My focus is not on the historical side but the deepest psychological meaning" phrases that clue you in that there's a lot of nonsense coming

Nowadays the word "Weib" really just reads as "woman (derogatory)"

Dream and Belief

"the breath soul and the shadow soul" I'm sorry what. What! Shadow soul?????

"Freud's discovery of psychoanalysis" I don't know that I'd call it a discovery rather than "wholesale invention" or maybe "ass-pull" but sure

You can at times REALLY tell this is influenced by Freud. Example: "The more people have a certain type of dream the more likely it is that its' subliminal content is of a sexual nature" good (?) news for all the people who dream about their teeth falling out

Something something dreaming of your dead mother or father something something oedipus complex repressed in childhood

You can really tell this was written in the early 20th century. Take me back to the 18th/19th century weirdness please

"In a court in 1516 the jury of Trojes admonished the caterpillars who had devastated some distracts on punishment of curse and excommunication to leave within a certain number of days" I have SO MANY questions

The source for the above is "Cesaresco. Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs, P. 183" which I now have to read

Nightmares

"It is generally known that nightmares have a greater influence on the fantasy of waking life than any other dream" my dude you JUST went on for a whole chapter abt sex dreams so like are you sure

"I have added that the repression of female masochistic sexual urges is more suited to the creation of the typical nightmare than that of the male one, a view that Adler agrees with" I just wanna read abt weird hairy creatures sitting on people's chests, not this nonsense

Ok HERE'S something interesting. Dude's talking about how nightmares express deeply repressed wishes like yes. This I can vibe with

"Digestive problems do not explain the appearance of beautiful women from keyholes" sure but if that were a thing I'd sure as hell take the digestive problems

Incubus and Incubation

"In the middle ages the belief was generally that there were evil spirits whose sole function was to have [...] intercourse with sleeping people" HE JUST SAYS THIS. WITHOUT A SOURCE

"A favorite form that incubi took was that of clergy. Hieronmyus reports the story of a young lady who called for help against an incubus which her friends found under their beds in the form of the bishop Sylvanus. The reputation of the bishop would have suffered if he had been unable to convince them that the incubus had taken his form"

People at the time reacted by saying "Oh an excellent example for the wizardry of Sylvanus" so I don't think this bishop was believed

Anyway I WISH that had been an incubus but it really sounds like it was just a creepy old dude

Sir why do you keep randomly throwing untranslated French quotes in this German text

Oh hey another mention of people who were supposedly children of incubi. This time it's Alexander the Great, Caesar, Martin Luther, Plato, all of the Huns and everyone who lived on Cyprus

You're right, it would be unnecessary to linger on how snakes are phallic symbols thank you for not doing that

"The belief that the soul leaves the sleeper in the form of a snake which escapes through the mouth" UM HOLD ON

I checked the source and yeah, that sure is a thing

This one's from Thorpe. Northern Mythology, 1851, Vol I. P. 289f https://archive.org/details/northernmytholog01thoruoft/page/n309/mode/2up

The Vampire

"The wish for reunion, which has its origin in the living person, is here partially projected on the dead" FINALLY some good content

"Widows can get pregnant by their vampiric husbands visiting" uhuh sure

"After the transformation into a vampire is complete it can be discovered by finding the unburied body with red cheeks, tightskin, full blood vessels, warm blood, grown hair and nails and open left eye"

May have found another source on alps here. Features slut-shaming of sphinxes as far as I can tell

"The Wallachian myth wherein dead redheaded men appear in the form of frogs, bugs etc. and drink the blood of pretty girls"

So depending on which church you were a part of before committing heresy you'd either become a werewolf (roman-catholic) or a vampire (greek)

"Like the vampire the Alp can be the soul of a dead person and suck the blood of sleeping people" whhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhy do I only read this now

The Werwolf

Apollo's apparently associated with wolves, which I did not know

Oh yeah I forgot about the part of werewolf lore that's like "Yeah they turn their human skin inside-out cause the other side is a wolf pelt"

If you're born on christmas day you're apparently destined to become a werewolf as punishment for your parent daring to deliver on the same day as Mary

"The seventh son is destined to become a werewolf, the seventh daughter a mare" mmmmmmmmm there's Something here I may be able to use

Quick gallows, wow what's that? Oh. Oh it's a gallows where the person has their hands bound behind their back, is pulled up by their bound hands on a pulley and then dropped from great height??????? That's uh. That doesn't sound like a good experience

Armenian werewolves are women who sinned and were thus punished by having to live for seven years as a werewolf.

There's also a creature that's somewhat between werewolf and vampire which, apparently sucks blood from the soles of the feet of people walking by

Very rough translation but "One has to burn the werewolf because otherwise he will rise from his grave a few days later. In ravenous hunger he will eat the flesh from his own hands and feet and when he has nothing else on his body to consume he will burrow out from his grave at midnight, fall into the herds and steal the animals or even go into houses, lay down by the sleeping and suck their blood from them" this is good, actually

I cannot stress enough how openly freudian this thing is

Werewolves can apparently also leave behind their bodies and wander about at night

Devilworship

"Belief in devils can be traced back to an oedipus complex" ok. sure

Apparently the devil used to be a close parallel to jesus. The whole deal: twelve apostles, went to hell and was reborn, hot bod

The devil had his own bible which was written down in Bohemia and is now in a library in Stockholm k so who's down for a trip to Stockholm after [waves hands] all this is done

"One of the later bynames of the devil was Grendel (english Grant)"

The devil is canonically bisexual and bigender

He can only impregnate folks if he previously acts as a succubus

....Merlin was a son of the devil? He was born because the devil was imitating God? His purpose was to defeat Jesus? Is this what Fate Grand Order is about

"if a woman sleeps alone the devil sleeps with her" well good for her

The devil has a second face on his butt that looks like a beautiful woman's face. He sits the wrong way around in chairs. His genitals are on his back

The Witch Epidemic

Witches like to eat babies, especially unbaptized ones

Witches apparently sometimes turned men into horses to ride to sabbath??? rad

Or they rode the devil himself in form of a horse or goat. sure

Why would witches have stigmata. I want to know, but not enough to check the source that's cited for this

The roman-catholic church is at fault for witchcraft

Apparently 40 year old witches turn into Drude which are also similar to alps

In Conclusion

This entire thing was a trip but I cannot recommend reading it or a translation. It's far too Freudian for my tastes. At least there's a little bit here that I can use for A Pale Imitation and its potential sequels.

#Mu speaks #hey did you know #The next thing I'm researching is philosophy #which should be fun #And then some more on mares and stuff which I'm also looking forward to

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erumai-maadu · 4 years ago

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so after several increasingly insane messages to Alex at ungodly hours of the night, I caved (haha), posted about my new obsession, and now I have once again been enabled by @tamale104, so you’re gonna hear about the latest obsession I gained from research for my fic: The Sơn Đoòng Cave.

long, LONG post below the cut

Hang Sơn Đoòng, translated from Vietnamese as either “cave of the mountain river” or “cave of mountains behind Đoòng (village)” is a cave in the Phong Nha-Kẻ Bàng National Park in Vietnam, near the Laos-Vietnam border. It’s between 2 to 5 million years old, and is a solutional cave, which means it was formed by water dissolving soluble limestone. The cave has an internal fast-flowing river called Rao Thuong, and it’s this river that carved out the cave over millions of years.

The cave was discovered in 1991 by a local man named Hồ Khanh, who was, at the time, a logger looking for agarwood, a valuable timber. However, the steep descent into the cave (a 200 ft drop!), as well as the sound of roaring water coming from within discouraged him from entering. Later, in 2009, a group of cavers from the British Cave Research Association were conducting a survey of the national park and explored the cave, giving it international fame.

The main passage of the cave is the largest in the word by volume, big enough that a Boeing 747 plane could fly through with ease without having to fear for its wings. It’s 200 meters (660 ft) high and 150 meters (490 ft) wide. The cave also contains some of the world’s largest stalagmites (those are the ones that come from the floor), such as the 200 ft tall Hand of Dog stalagmite.

The story behind that weird name, in a quote from one of the first people to explore the cave, Howard Limbert: “A woman on our original expedition asked if she could name it. She shouted ‘The Hand of God,’ and the lad who wrote it down wrote ‘Hand of Dog’ instead. We didn’t know it was going to be famous, so some names are a bit weird.”

The cave’s size is because of two factors, the river running through it, and the fault line it sits on.

My favorite thing about this cave are the two dolines, places in the cave where the ceiling has collapsed. The first doline, named Watch Out for Dinosaurs, is a small hole in the ceiling that lets in mesmerizing beams of sunlight. Small ferns grow on the rocks where the sunlight touches.

(image taken from the cave tour company’s website, Oxalis Adventures. The picture is taken with artificial lighting to brighten the surroundings. The second picture is from the CNBC article linked in my sources list. it’s done with minimal artificial lighting.)

The cave is so big that it has its own weather system. The sunlight from the dolines heats the water from the river, forming clouds inside the cave that give moisture, allowing plants to grow on the rocks.

So after the first doline, you pass through a chamber whose walls are made entirely of fossils, making the rock white, and then through the cave’s biggest chamber, the one that a 747 could fly through without its wings being in any danger.

Then, you get to the second doline and my absolute favorite part of the cave: the Garden of Edam. The second doline is large enough that it allows enough sunlight for a jungle to grow 820 feet below the ground.

(picture of the aerial view was taken from the CNBC article. second picture is taken from the wikipedia article.)

(it looks so pretty at night, I wanna live there.)

In the cave’s jungle, trees grow as big as 150 feet tall, and species of monkeys, snakes, at at least one type of eagle owl live there. There are also at least two types of flightless birds running around there.

There are also the cave bugs and fish that live deeper in the cave, far far past the dolines but I’m not talking about them bc they’re creepy and I hate creepy crawlies. Just know the fish’s skin is white/translucent and the creepy crawlies have no eyes because evolution.

this cave also features cave pearls the size of baseballs, which is highly unusual. Pic also describes them.

During rainy season, a lake nearly 2000 ft wide fills up the cave. It’s usually gone by June.

The cave is gorgeous and I have an absolute obsession with it, and if you’re interested in learning more than the brief (ish) overview I gave, check out my sources, listed below!!

- this cool article from cnbc that has gorgeous pictures of the journey to and into the cave

- the wikipedia article that also has some really nice pictures of the cave

- this national geographic 360 degree tour thing of the cave was my biggest source of info. you have to click the screen to start and then the sidebars teach you how to navigate and stuff and also give cool facts. Works better on desktop or tablet but it’s SO COOL to see and I highly recommend it. The whole thing took me around 45 mins to get through but I was going back and forth and writing things and taking my sweet time so I’d estimate it’d take around 20 mins normally.

#I told scarlett I was gonna go to sleep around 12 AND THEN I DIDN'T #because I was too busy screaming about this cave #*repeatedly smacks head on desk* I stayed up until 3 am for this #rip alex thank you for putting up with my crazy ass #yk what that's your new tag #uh. is there a trigger warning for caves??#tw cave #cave tw #wtf is up with formatting on mobile? hello?? pls look normal??#for reference

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

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Habushu

Hey remember when @hiss-and-vinegar came over this weekend to hang out in a room and get drunk with Alastor? Yeah well things got unexpectedly fluffy. They really are doing an enemies-to-friends speedrun.

If the read more doesn't work then I'm sorry but it's not my fault because tumblr did it.

Sir Pentious

Pentious actually ISN'T drunk when he arrives, thank goodness. He slithers in like he owns the place, as one does. Tucked under an arm is an enormous picnic basket, and he's looking very proud of himself.

Alastor

"Right on time!" Alastor says that like they'd actually scheduled a time. He doesn't have an offering of food, but he does have a bottle of bourbon. He half offers it with an apologetic shrug and says, "If you'd warned me sooner that you were bringing food, I would have whipped something up too." Maybe next time.

He twirls a key ring with a single room key around a finger. "Shall we?"

Sir Pentious

Oh nooo dont' tell him that, Alastor. Now he's giving you the MOST smug face that he can muster.

"OH, DEAR, ALASTOR!!! WERE YOU CAUGHT OFF GUARD BY ME??? I SHALL CHERISH THIS VICTORY."

He is. Kidding? He slithers forward, and takes the bottle, before handing off the Very Heavy picnic basket to the stickbug Alastor.

"IF YOU ARE SSSSTILL HUNGRY AFTER THISSS, THEN WE COULD WHIP UP SSSOMETHING TOGETHER, BUT I DOUBT WE WILL HAVE TO."

Alastor

Joke's on Sir Pentious, maybe Alastor likes the smug face. Maybe he wanted Sir Pentious to be smug.

"Perhaps next time you'd cherish homemade snacks a little more?" The stickbug is stronger than his toothpick arms would suggest, but his eyebrows still shoot up a little at the weight of the basket. He supposes extra food WOULD be superfluous, wouldn't it? But he hefts it gamely and gestures toward the stairs. "Second floor, first door on the right."

His hopes soar at the thought of cooking with Sir Pentious. He can probably feign hunger. His stomach's nigh on bottomless.

Sir Pentious

Pentious' tongue flicks at the display of strength. Alastor didn't have the heft of a snake to rely on, so it was indeed impressive.

"I CHERISH THEM ALL THE SSSAME, AFTER ALL, I PREPARED ALMOST EVERYTHING WITHIN THAT PIC-A-NIC BASKET. YOU WILL SURELY BE DAZZLED BY MY TANTALIZING TREATSSS, MY FRIEND."

BOY this snake is in a REALLY GOOD MOOD!!! He begins the ascent up the stairs, zig zagging as snakes must. He knows Vaggie said she was avoiding the lobby, but he hoped to give a little frilly talon wave. Oh well. Door located!

Alastor

"Did you!" He tries to balance the basket on a hip so he can free a hand for opening it as he walks, finds it too heavy for that, and calls up a shadow to help support its weight instead. He's impatient and eager to find out what Sir Pentious's cooking is like.

He and the shadow trail slightly behind Sir Pentious as he tries to dig into the basket, humming distractedly along with his own background music as he does.

Sir Pentious

Inside the basket is...... OH IT'S LOCKED. IT'S ACTUALLY GOT A LOCKING MECHANISM.

Rest in peace, Alastor. No peeksies.

"YESS! APPARENTLY, EVERYONE ISSS ALWAYSSS SSURPRISED TO FIND OUT I CAN COOK. I LIVED BY MYSSSSELF FOR QUITE SSSOME TIME, YOU KNOW."

Alastor

Alastor has the sneaking suspicion that Sir Pentious knows him just a little too well. He tries to think of a way to open the basket, comes up with three, tries to think of a way that DOESN'T involve returning a broken basket to Sir Pentious, and by then they're in the room so it's a moot point.

"You have egg servants," he points out, dropping the basket on the coffee table. "But, point taken! Do I get to see the fruits of your labors now?" He taps a claw on the basket lid.

Sir Pentious

"I HAVE EGG SHAPED SERVANTSS, YESS."

He gives him a look, "BUT THEY ARE NOT VERY GOOD AT WHAT THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO. WORKING WITHOUT SOULS DOESS THAT."

Pentious slithers over to a nearby seat, sitting down on it and coiling his tail up to be out of the way. He can see Alastor being all eager, so he decides to milk that.

"WHY??? ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE YOUR MIND WONDERING WHAT LIESSSS WITHIN, ALASSSSTOR?"

Alastor

"You know, I just might!" He knows full well that the more eagerness he expresses, the more likely Sir Pentious will be to drag out the big reveal for his own sadistic entertainment. But Alastor isn't exactly dying of starvation, and he'd like to see Sir Pentious enjoying himself—so sure, he'll play along a little bit. It isn't like Sir Pentious is going to leave without showing off his food.

The nearest seat to the coffee table is a couch—it's a sizeable hotel room suite, with not just bedroom furniture but also a desk, office chair, armchair in a corner, and then of course the couch and coffee table. Alastor momentarily wavers over whether he should pull over one of the other two chairs, then decides to let his id win this one and plops down on the couch next to Sir Pentious. "I've been wondering since I saw you were bringing something!" he said cheerily. "Why, wondering what you're bringing is half the reason I didn't bring anything myself! I was trying to guess what might compliment your offerings without knowing what they were going to be."

Sir Pentious

Pentious, an enormous King Cobra Demon decorated in eyes looks down at this stick bug, his tongue flicking as he listens to the eager chatter of that frequency mingled voice. Alastor seemed in high spirits, too.... And while Pentious was still upset over what the Radio Demon of his own HELL had done, he could relax here... To a degree.

It was nice, in its own way, to be able to exist next to him again.

"A WISE DECISION," Penny begins, clicking his talons together, "AFTER ALL, OUR ABILITIES ARE INCOMPARABLE! YOUR BOLOGNESE WOULD NOT PAIR WELL WITH MY MODE OF PREPARATION, BUT I DIGRESS."

He slips his sleeve up, revealing a gadget strapped to his wrist. Upon pressing it, the basket pops open. Voila!

Inside, a bottle of brandy mixed with lemonade ("HOT TODDIE" has been scribbled onto a label), a bottle of Japanese spirits with a dead viper inside, a tea kettle, and then also an assortment of sandwiches made with salted meat and fish. Crumpets, jam filled biscuits, and also a plate or two of thinly sliced meat. One does what one can in Hell, and he obtained his ingredients in the Hotel.

Alastor

Alastor immediately pulls the basket over, and is almost just as immediately disappointed. Oh, sandwiches. Sandwiches and charcuterie. Sure, it was food preparation, but it wasn't what Alastor would call cooking.

But it's certainly serviceable. Alastor has gotten his own hopes raised too high, expecting to be wowed—this was about the level of his own Sir Pentious's culinary talents, after all. And who is he to turn down the simple pleasures of unadorned meat? "You know my tastes," he says wryly, snagging a slice. He quickly devours it and then gets to work eagerly pulling goods out of the basket.

He pauses at the bottle of snake booze, his dead heart jolting in his chest. After a moment, he murmurs, "You really know my tastes," and sets it firmly on his side of the coffee table. "Quite a spread! If it wasn't for the booze, I'd think we're having a proper tea party, here." Maybe tea parties do have booze? Alastor doesn't know, he doesn't exactly attend many.

Sir Pentious

All the while that Alastor is looking the items over, Pentious is leaning over to watch, his talons fidgeting nervously. He very clearly cares about the other's opinion, evidently from the look on the snake's face. His brow creased, the corner of his lips pulled down into an inquisitive frown. He was a picky eater, and texture played such an enormous role in what he could and couldn't eat... This followed into the things he'd prepare for himself. It was no wonder he was so thin.

"I PREPARED SSSIMILAR FARE ON MY OUTING WITH VALERA ON THE FIN-DE-SEMAINE PRIOR." AND HE WILL NOT TALK ANYMORE ABOUT WHAT WENT DOWN DURING THAT PICNIC. RIGHT IN FRONT OF THOSE INNOCENT SANDWICHES.

"THE HOT TODDIE WAS WELL RECEIVED! BUT THE HABUSHU ISS NEW. I AM EAGER TO TRY IT! I WONDER IF YOU'LL BE BITTEN BY THE SSSNAKE? HAHA!"

Alastor

"And she has exquisite taste," Alastor says, resisting the urge to cast a pointed glance at Sir Pentious himself. Oh, he knows how sensitive Sir Pentious is to the approval or disapproval of the people he's trying to impress—that's consistent across universes, too. Sir Pentious is not going to hear a word of disappointment and is not going to see anything but a smile.

"Ha—ha-boo-shoe?" That's a new one. "I'm already more than familiar with snake bites," he says, tilting his head to pointedly stretch his neck. He grabs up one of the fish sandwiches and asks, "Have you never gotten any snake alcohol before, then?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious grins devilishly at the reminder of their previous visitation, his fangs in full view. If you want an encore, just ask, Alastor ~

But he leans back on the sofa, waving a hand, "NO, NEVER. PEOPLE DO NOT SSSSEND ME GIFTSSSS. I NEVER HAD A CHANCE TO TAKE A BOAT TO JAPAN, ALTHOUGH I REALLY WANTED TO. THINGS OF JAPONAISE ORIGIN WERE COVETED DURING MY TIME!"

He gestures to the Habushu. "ALTHOUGH IF THERE WERE SSSNAKE ALCOHOL IN LONDON TOWN, NO, I NEVER RECEIVED ANY."

Alastor

Sir Pentious is going to have to tell him he can ask or else he's going to think it's kinda weird. Because he does want an encore.

He makes a mental note about the gift issue. "Oh, is it from Japan?" Alastor gives it another look. Huh. Well, what does he know about Japanese snakes from any other? "I think the kind I came across was Thai. Well—technically it was Hellish, but based on a Thai recipe, I mean."

Sir Pentious

His shoulders bounce as he laughs, snickering behind a hand.

"A HELLISH SERPENT SSSTUFFED INTO A BOTTLE?"

He looks delighted, "WHY, I WASS AN ALCOHOLIC! THAT'SS CLOSE ENOUGH! HHHAAAAA HA HAAAAA!"

DARK HUMOR!

Alastor

Alastor blinks in surprise. "Were you." He gives the bottle an uncomfortable glance, then forces his gaze away. "Ha! I had a decade like that! I've never seen a radio in a bottle, though."

SYMPATHIZING THROUGH DARK HUMOR!

"I suppose in place of a radio you could squeeze in one of those little wireless headphones that are supposed to go up your ear canal," Alastor says, with a slight sneer of distaste. "But I doubt it would do much for the flavor."

Sir Pentious

He grins wide at the shared understanding. WOW THESE OLD MEN. Pentious drags the tips of his claws across his lips, carefully.

"OH, I DON'T KNOW! IF YOU BROKE THEM JUSST RIGHT, MAYBE YOU'D FIND THE TASTE SHOCKING! IT WOULD SSSSPARK A NEW FLAVOR!"

Booooo.

"I HAVE NEVER WORN EAR PIECESSSSS, I DO NOT HAVE EARSSSS LIKE A HUMAN ANYMORE. AND BESIDESSS, I MUCH PREFER THE SSSSOUND THROUGH A GRAMOPHONE. I HAD ACCESS TO ONE OF THE VERY FIRSSST MODELSSS, YOU KNOW! "

Alastor

He's relieved when the conversation moves on without further questions. "Ha! A real jolt to the senses! If nothing else, it would probably improve the ear pieces."

Alastor's eyes light up. (More, anyway.) "Did you?" he asks with relish. "I shouldn't be surprised, early adopter that you are! I just didn't realize they were around in the 1880s. I heard my first in the aughts. I still prefer records myself! Not that I mind headphones, but..." He flicks an ear. "They don't make many models for me, either." A wan smile. "But then it's not a terribly high priority when you can do this." He briefly cranks the volume up on his disembodied background music before letting it settle down to a murmur again.

Sir Pentious

He leans on his hands, upon his coil and. EXCEPTIONALLY close to that grinning radio man. Tongue flick.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE SSSO VERY ENVIOUSSS. IN 1887, EMILE BERLINER CREATED A PROTOTYPE OF WHAT YOU KNOW AS THE GRAMOPHONE!! AND...."

Demonic hungry beast-like grin.

"I THREATENED HIM FOR IT. HE GAVE IT TO ME. I HAD THE ORIGINAL, CRANK OPERATED MODEL!! SSSSUCH INGENUITY. SSSSUCH SSSTYLE."

A frown, "IT'SSSS TOO BAD I DIED THE NEXT YEAR, BUT THESE THINGSSSS HAPPEN."

Alastor

Alastor doesn't budge an inch back as Sir Pentious closes in, focusing the entirety of his attention on that wonderfully wicked grin. His eyes open more and grin stretches wide enough that it threatens to rip his face in two; his studio audience applauds at the conclusion of the story, all parties thoroughly amused. "You—are—RIGHT!" Alastor prods Sir Pentious's chest underneath his eye. "I am envious of you! The prototype, no less! There's being ON the cutting edge, and then there's being the one to sharpen the knife."

Alastor flashes back to where he'd been a year before he died—too bad, indeed—and shrugs. "There's something to be said for dying while king of the hill. No slow descent from the peak into the valley of the shadow of death." The words are still as chipper as he can make them but even to himself his tone rings somewhat hollow. He still misses those years he lost. Half his life unlived.

Sir Pentious

Oh, yes! Listen to that applause. Pentious leans back, placing his claws under his chin as he basks in the praise given to him. What a wonderful feeling, being adored! He purrrrrs, in that Cobra-Snarling Kind of Way. "YESS, NO SSLOW DESCENT AT ALL. I DIED IN AN AIRSHIP EXPLOSION!"

Alastor

"A—an airship explosion!" Alastor played back a couple of soundbites from the Hindenburg disaster broadcast—"it's a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen"—"oh, the humanity!"—he couldn't help himself. "Well, talk about going out with a bang! Ha! What in the world managed to bring down an airship in 1888?"

Sir Pentious

Oh man, he has no idea what the hell Alastor just played, but it gets an inquisitive look out of the snake anyway. Pentious waves a hand dismissively, and leans over to pick up the bottle of Brandy+Lemonade.

"ENGINE CAUGHT. I WAS TOO HASTY WITH MY PREPARATIONSSS THAT DAY, OR ONE OF MY LABORERS HAD A MISHAP. REGARDLESS, HERE I AM! ALTHOUGH, IT'SSSS RATHER FUNNY... IT DID NOT FEEL LIKE MUCH OF ANYTHING. I RECALL THE HEAT, THE WAY MY SSSKIN WAS TEARING FROM MY LIMBSSSS, BUT THEN BEFORE I COULD THINK TO SSSCREAM, I WAS FLYING MY SHIP THROUGH THE BLOODIED SSSSKIES OF HELL. IT'SSS THE SAME ONE, YOU KNOW. MY AIRSHIP."

Even if he's had to rebuild it.

Alastor

Just a clip of one of the best tragedies Alastor died too soon to enjoy. He lives (so to speak) for opportunities to buy black market broadcast recordings of devastating news in the living world.

So he'd brought HIMSELF down—isn't that typical of most of Sir Pentious's losses? Alastor has to fight the urge to laugh; Sir Pentious wouldn't appreciate the humor.

But this is fast to be hearing about Sir Pentious's death. Especially in such depth. Alastor wonders if he's always this free with the details of his demise, or if Alastor is riding on the legacy of whatever intimacy his alternate had enjoyed with Sir Pentious. Or if Sir Pentious is trying to push through to intimacy as fast as possible before THIS alliance falls through, too.

Because that, Alastor is aware, is certainly what he himself is about to do. "Mine didn't feel like much either. The injuries before the killing blow, sure—but the last one? Just a quick pop on my forehead, and suddenly I'm backstage at a circus with an imp telling me to get out!" He huffs. This is the second time he's told a Sir Pentious about his death. The last time, it took fifteen years—and came less than a day before Alastor permanently broke off their alliance. "But—you brought your entire airship to Hell with you? That's rare! Very rare." And, if Sir Pentious's version of Hell operates on the same principles as Alastor's, means the airship is an extension of his soul. Alastor wonders if Sir Pentious himself knows that—he's run into far too many sinners who don't.

Sir Pentious

It was a toss up of reasons. Pentious found it easier to joke about his own demise, as long as it was him telling the story. It gave him a bit more control over the outcome, and even if he were to end up laughed at, he still chose to tell the tale. But why share it with Alastor? Well... He felt good, lately. It was a peculiar feeling--the snake had a habit of oversharing anyway, and sometimes he didn't catch himself quickly enough. But Alastor wanted to be friends, and, friends are the sort of people who overshare information, right?

At least, that was the impression the Inventor got from online interaction. You couldn't call yourself a friend without having shared strangely private matters of your own life. It was kind of a comfort slip... but as long as attention wasn't brought to the fact he was so open about it, Pentious wouldn't become defensive. He didn't know the ins and outs of friendship, didn't know what this kind of contract allowed or forbid. Maybe he had made an enormous mistake, sharing that much information... but now Alastor was telling him about his own death.

Pentious smirked, that greyish, reddish tongue slipping out between his lips as he listened in variable silence--he made a lot of noise just existing, but as Valera had described, he was like a white noise machine. Once the topic returned to him, Pentious looked a lot more comfortable, "YESSS, I DID! I'VE REBUILT HER UP TWICE NOW... THREE TIMESSS, SSOON TO BE. IT TAKESSS TIME. I HAVE TO BE IN THE RIGHT..." His eyes glance about, and his hood raises, "NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT. LET USSS HAVE A DRINK, SHALL WE, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Alastor ponders over the missing end of that sentence. Right state of mind? Right mood? He feels like it has to be something like that—and if so, that suggests the ship IS a part of him, if its physical condition is dependent on Sir Pentious's inner condition.

But for now, he'll never mind about that. "Of course! That's what we came for!" He locates a glass and holds it out to be filled from Sir Pentious's bottle.

Sir Pentious

Pentious pours him a glass, careful to not spill it as he does... and then, he pours a glass for himself. The liquid is warm, which was the best way to enjoy this kind of beverage. He lifts his glass to Alastor's, "TO WHAT DO WE CHEERS TO, CHUM?"

Alastor

Chum, what a word. It sounds so... chummy. He considers the question, tossing out several options that are either too sentimental or too impersonal, and taps his glass to Sir Pentious's with, "To your not having to rebuild that blimp a fourth time for a good long while, how about that?" To Sir Pentious's health, both internal and external.

Sir Pentious

Oh ho! Now that's a good toast!

He clinks his glass elegantly against the others.

"YES, RATHER SO! HERE ISS TO THAT ENDEAVOR, HAHAAA!" Aaand he takes a big gulp. Burns all the way down, with a dance of sweet and sour on the tongue.

Alastor

Alastor also takes a deep swig—chokes, swallows hard, and coughs static. "S—sorry." Cough. He wrinkles his nose as he tries not to let the rest of his face twist. "Sweeter than I was expecting." He'd heard "hot toddy" and unthinkingly assumed it was made the same way he'd make one for a sore throat—with whiskey and the absolute minimum amount of honey he could get away with.

Sir Pentious

OH!! WHAT A REACTION! Pentious LAUGHS openly, his hood lifting up!!!

"NYA HA HAAA! LOOK AT YOU-- I FORGOT, YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS KIND OF THING!! NYA HA HAAA!"

Alastor

Alastor sticks out the tip of his tongue—ick—then grabs another sandwich to cover up the taste. (He has to grope a couple of times before his hand lands on one—his eyes are on Sir Pentious as he laughs, not on the coffee table.) He devours a couple of bites before he says, "If you 'forget' again, I'm going to start assuming you're doing it on purpose."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious couldn't look ANY more smug than he already does, and he leans closer to that Sour Faced Deer--even if he was still smiling, Pentious knew he definitely was caught off guard. Small victories. "OH, THAT ISSSS A DISSSSTINCT POSSSSSIBILITY."

Alastor

"I'm going to have my guard up next time," Alastor warns. He takes another small sip from the glass to see whether the sweetness is less shocking when he knows it's coming.

It is—but he's still not going to call it enjoyable.

Sir Pentious

You drink for enjoyment? Pentious prefers to drink to eradicate sensation. He takes a sandwich for himself, as well as a napkin, and leans back to start eating it. Yum yum. The sandwiches are missing their crusts, and the bread is very soft.

Alastor

He's tried to break that habit.

Alastor's not complaining; the less bread, the easier to enjoy the meat by itself. Alastor leans over to try to peer at the sandwich fillings and see if there are any flavors he hasn't tried yet, and grabs another. "So, hot toddy aside—were THESE chosen with my tastes in mind?" He takes a bite and, experimentally, grabs up one of the meat cuts to add on. "Because if they were, I'm flattered."

Sir Pentious

Pentious thinks, a moment, and he shakes his head.

"NO, I DIDN'T REALLY MAKE ANY OF THISSS WITH YOU IN MIND. I JUST WANTED TO BRING SNACKSSS AND BOOZE, SO WE COULD GET "HAMMERED". HAAAHAA!! THISSS ISSS SSTANDARD PICNIC FARE OF MY TIME, ALASSSTOR. YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN MISERABLE. NOT A RADIO IN SSSSIGHT. I WONDER IF YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN THE OPERA DEMON."

Alastor

"Well, lucky our tastes line up!" He lifts his glass again—cheers to that—and takes another sip. "... Mostly."

He doesn't have to contemplate the question long. "Probably!" It's something he's actually thought about—in death, being the Radio Demon has felt so correct that he has to wonder if he still would have been the Radio Demon had he died a century earlier, his powers lying latent until the radio receivers to react to them had been invented. Or maybe it was impossible for his soul to have been created until the technology he needed was ready. "I was trying to make it on Broadway before the radio came around. A generation before that, it probably WOULD have been opera. What about you, if you'd been born too early? I expect you would have had to start the Industrial Revolution all by yourself."

Sir Pentious

He snickers, grinning REALLY close to Alastor's head.

"AND YOU KNOW, I WOULD HAVE DONE SO!" He takes another gulp. There's no gentle sips here, "I HAVE AN EYE FOR INVENTION! I COULD NEVER SSSSIT BY AND LET OTHERSSS GET THINGSSSS SSTARTED WITHOUT ME. NO MATTER THE ERA, SHOULD I HAVE BEEN BORN INTO IT, I WOULD HAVE REVOLUTIONIZED IT!!!"

Alastor

Well, don't be shy, Sir Pentious, there's still a couple inches of empty air there.

He's getting tired of gentle sips himself. He opens his bottle of bourbon, drowns what's left of his hot toddy, and takes a deep gulp of the new concoction. Much better. "Oh, I have no doubt! That's what you're made for! You're still doing it now, even!" Alastor sure didn't see anyone else running around with rail guns like the one Sir Pentious has just cooked up.

Sir Pentious

Oooh, a straight swig from the bottle, eh? Pentious flicks his tongue, looking it over, before he puts his glass down and reaches for Alastor's bourbon, "COME NOW, DON'T BE sssSTINGY."

Alastor

"What, do you need to burn out the taste of honey, too?" He passes over the bottle then flops back against the couch cushion, enjoying the familiar burn down his throat.

Sir Pentious

"HARDER TO GET DRUNK OFF OF SOMETHING SSSSO SSWEET." ACtually, it's easier, but he doesn't like the sticky taste of honey so much.

Pentious fills up his glass near to the brim, which means there'd still be a hint of lemon and honey, but not quite as bad. He then takes a direct swig from the bottle and passes it back with a cackle.

Alastor

"Definitely not as enjoyable! I prefer to taste exactly how drunk I'm going to get off my drink." And if that means occasionally feeling like he's drinking paint thinner, so be it.

He takes the bottle back, almost takes a swig, stops, stares at the lip of the bottle as he thinks extremely hard about the implications, and then swigs with even more gusto.

Sir Pentious

Pentious leans over to grab his glass, and sits back slowly, as to not jostle the thing. Several big gulps, you can hear it noisily! OHH that burns. He purrrrrsss, and brings the glass down on the coffee table. Looking even more giddy by the moment.

"YOU KNOW, WE SHOULDN'T GET OURSELVESSSSS TOO DONE IN BY THE BRANDY... THERE ISSS SSSTILL THE SSNAKE BITE THERE."

He gestures to the Habushu, "UNLESSsss YOU HAVE ANOTHER BITE IN MIND!" Pentious, you already made this joke.

Alastor

There's a crackle like two stations trying to interfere with each other and brief garbled voices over Alastor's background music. Okay, all right, Alastor's got just enough booze in him to take the edge off his common sense. And Sir Pentious wouldn't have brought it up twice if he wasn't serious, right? "Are you offering?"

Sir Pentious

Hhhmmmm. He looks over at Alastor, wincing at the sound of crackling radio stations... He taps his grit teeth with a talon, thinking it over, "LET ME HAVE ANOTHER DRINK BEFORE I DECIDE!" Because that's always smart. He takes the bottle back so he can pour himself another glass-- but whatever. He'll just take a gulp or two from the bottle. He sucks in air! Feels great, and also horrible at the same time.

Alastor

Is that a drink to work up his nerve, or a drink to put off a distasteful task? "Up to you," Alastor says, as if it doesn't make the slightest difference to him. He takes up the bottle of habushu—HIS next drink is certainly going to be of the "liquid courage" variety—opens it up, and tastes it a little more cautiously than he did the hot toddy.

Sir Pentious

Unfortunately, Pentious had neither decision on his mind. He was just wanting to drink more--he watched Alastor taste the Habushu... He'd be greeted with a spicy, though definitely Strong taste. The smell was as if cinnamon were dipped into paint thinner. Excellent? The Snake outside of the bottle, wearing a blinking top hat, leans closer to Alastor, somewhat towering over him menacingly, his hood out.

"OR SHOULD WE SAVE THE BITE FOR LASsssT??? I DO NOT WANT TO CUT OUR MEETING SHORT."

Alastor

Tastes good to Alastor. Weird, but good. He drinks a little more.

And suddenly he's being loomed over.

He thinks he's starting to develop a little bit of a taste for being loomed over. Not many people have the courage to attempt a loom on the Radio Demon—and most of those people are boring as hell. A looming Sir Pentious, however, is a promise of an exquisitely interesting afternoon, often in the form of mass carnage and flattened city blocks. (And he looks handsome from this angle, to boot. Very imperious. Very sure of himself.)

"Oh! I can handle a little blood loss and keep going, don't you worry!" He pats Sir Pentious's shoulder reassuringly. "But you're right! Dessert comes after the meal."

Sir Pentious

Pentious only feels comfortable when he can loom over his enemies! Perks of being so long. And he may not have his airship, he's still very big in general. His eyes squint at the shoulder pat, but he sits back, pulling more of his tail up onto the couch. Pleasant rattling sound. While Alastor caresses that bottle, Pentious is going to fetch a few jam filled biscuits out of the basket and munch on them.

He really does look happier, these days. Like his color is more saturated.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious is leaning away, then Alastor is going to... maybe... lean toward. Keep that distance consistent and all. That's a good idea. (The alcohol is definitely kicking in.)

He elbows Sir Pentious and offers the bottle. "The snake booze is pretty good! Makes me regret not trying the other bottle I got. We oughta try the Thai variety some time, you know, for comparison purposes."

Sir Pentious

His neck does a weird accordion thing, but only briefly. Exaggerated movements, though not intentionally, his head swivels a little as he looks Alastor over. Taking the bottle now, and peeking at the viper inside. His tongue flicks and he grins.

"WANTING TO DRINK WITH ME AGAIN IN THE FUTURE, ALASSSTOR? YOUR LADY FRIEND WILL BECOME QUITE ANNOYED WITH OUR VISITSSSS."

Alastor

"Well, sure, the first couple times have gone well enough." There are a confused few seconds during which Alastor tries to figure out which of his lady friends Sir Pentious thinks would be jealous of these meetings; he can't think of anything to say in response except, "You're not worried yours will get annoyed?" And then he figures it out. "Oh—I wouldn't call Vaggie a FRIEND. Coworker at best. Anyway, we could go over to your side of things."

Sir Pentious

Valera always encourages these sorts of meetings, so he's not worried in the least in this case.

The mention of having their visits over on his side makes him think about his own Alastor, and the conversation he had with Valera... Pentious' expression grows a little dark, a red glow seeping into his eyes as he thinks on it.

Alastor

Alastor's watching Sir Pentious closely enough to notice that. He weighs his curiosity against his desire to see Sir Pentious in a good mood, decides that this friendship has been short-lived enough that not maintaining a good mood could ruin his chances completely, and he says, "Vaggie will get used to our spending time over here. Anyway, I don't know what she could do about it!"

Sir Pentious

He's startled out of his own brief intensity, and he leans back on the sofa, resting his head more on Alastor's side.

"MY PLACE COULD WORK, HOWEVER, THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER ONE OF YOU WATCHING USSS, AND CURRENTLY, I AM NOT LOOKING TO SSSSPEND ANY SSSSUCH TIME WHERE HE COULD BE WATCHING ME IN A JOVIAL SSSSTATE."

Alastor

Ah. "Think he'll try to ruin the mood? Maybe kidnap me in the middle and switch us out?" He laughs at the thought, then leans forward to grab—what's left?—another few pieces of meat.

Sir Pentious

That gets a LAUGH out of the old serpent, and he rests his head on his palm, grinning down at Alastor.

"I DOUBT HE'D WANT TO SSSPEND ANY LENGTH OF TIME WITH ME! BESIDESSS, HE WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO RESSSIST CALLING ME SIR HAROLD. I WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE IN AN INSSSTANT."

Alastor

"Harold." One corner of his mouth twists. Of all the names to settle on. "You know, I don't get why he wouldn't want to! I don't know why he—well—" He stopped, stumbling over his words as he realized he wasn't exactly heading toward neutral territory. "What it is he... doesn't see in you...r company." Smooth work, Mr. Professional Radio Host. Incredibly subtle.

Sir Pentious

The repeating of the name CLEARLY irritates Pentious, his glare fixating on the other with a snappy hiss sfx. But then he watches Alastor, of all Demons, stumble awkwardly through that mess of a sentence, and he raises a broooow. Huhwha.

Sir Pentious straightens up, polishing his claws on his suit, "YESSS, WELL, CLEARLY, HE IS AFRAID OF BEING SHOWN UP! ONE CANNOT SSSIMPLY BE IN MY PRESENCE WITHOUT THAT HAPPENING! I KNOW HE FEARS SSSSOME ASPECT OF ME, OTHERWISE, WHY WOULD HE BE SSSTAYING AWAY?"

Easier to tell himself that-- it was definitely more likely that Alastor just didn't give two shits about Pentious, and he knew that to be true, too.

His focus is back on the Stickbug.

"BUT YOU KNOW, YOU CLEARLY HAVE A FEW POINTSSSSsss ON HIM! AFTER ALL, YOU CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME!"

Alastor

Can't get enough of me. He is going to sit forward and he is going to pick up a sandwich and he is going to chew on it a bit and he is definitely not buying time while he screams in his head, and there are certainly not very very quiet terrified howls buried beneath the background music.

Finally, he says, as though he never paused, "Well, OF COURSE! What more interesting company could one keep than a man determined to conquer Hell and capable of independently producing the all the firepower he needs to accomplish that task?! If my duplicate is AFRAID of you, then he must have ambitions I don't! And if he ISN'T afraid, then..." He gropes around for an explanation, then lamely concludes, "then... I guess he's just stupid."

Because he genuinely, genuinely doesn't know what it is that his alternate isn't seeing. He's sifted through enough parallel dimensions and met enough versions of himself to conclude that his sentiments are quite probably unique, and he doesn't know why. He isn't so different from his mirror selves; nor are most of the duplicate serpents he's seen so different from his own. And yet he's the only Radio Demon who's got thorns wrapped between his ribs like this. Why him? What are the other lucky Alastors missing?

Sir Pentious

Pentious is too tipsy to consider the sounds he's hearing in the background music, just watching Alastor idly.

What a way to end that thought! The Cobra laughs, and he holds the bottle of habushu up, beaming with enjoyment. Thoroughly, THOROUGHLY entertained. "I WILL DRINK TO THAT, ALASTOR. HE IS JUST STUPID, INDEED!" And he takes a swig, clearly not bothered by the viper inside. Then again, Cobras do eat smaller snakes primarily. The taste has more kick to it, and he offers it to this rideerculous man.

Alastor

Oh! Success! What a relief. Alastor accepts the bottle—who needs glasses, next time they should start out by passing bottles back and forth, he's loving this—and drinks deeply from it.

Sir Pentious

Don't swallow the snake, Alastor.

Pentious was definitely getting pretty hammered at this rate, though. At least ten minutes later, he's kind of... on the floor, but his tail is up on the couch, as he streeetches and hums to himself. He just looks so relaxed.

Alastor

And as long as they're getting comfortable, Alastor's going to take the opportunity to flop across the couch—and across as much as Sir Pentious's tail as he can get away with. If he DOESN'T swallow the snake, it's not going to be for a lack of trying. He's got the bottle upside-down and his tongue in the bottle, trying to coax the coiled-up corpse toward the opening so he can bite down. It's probably not going to be nearly as delicious as he imagines, but right now he's primarily thinking of the satisfying crunch of the skull.

Sir Pentious

Apparently Pentious doesn't mind Alastor lying on him--either he's too drunk to properly feel it, or he is too drunk to care. Or, the forbidden third option... he doesn't actually mind all that much. It would be hard to tell in this state. He purrs.........

"YOU KNOW, ALASSTOR, I HAVE BEEN 'STRAIGHT UP' MISERABLE FOR THE PASSST ONE HUNDRED YEARSSS! GIVE OR TAKE A DECADE OR SO. WHEN I DIED, I WASS OPTIMISSSTIC IN SSSOME WAYSSS THAT I COULD, WELL, MAKE IT WORK. AND THEN I MET YOU IN THE FORTY YEARSS AFTER THAT, AND IT WASS--WELL IT WASN'T YOU, YOU. BUT WE ALL KNOW HOW THAT WENT!"

He imitates the sound of a blimp crashing and exploding.

"AND, AFTER THAT, I THINK A PART OF ME FINALLY DIED! I HATED EVERYONE, EVERYTHING. I DOUBLED DOWN MY EFFORTSSSsss, AND FIXATED ON MY DESIRESSSsss, BUT I WAS COMPLETELY ALONE! EVEN AFTER HAVING THE EGGSSSSssss CREATED, THEY WERE A POOR SSSUBSSTITUTE FOR CONTACT."

Alastor

There is an actual audible record scratch as the background music finally shuts up. "Oh."

His pleasant buzz has quite abruptly shifted into nausea. He reaches past Sir Pentious to unsteadily set the bottle of Habushu on the coffee table, snake uneaten.

Sir Pentious

"AND YET...!" He continues, "I HAVE BEEN HAPPY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN DECADES.... BECAUSE OF VALERA! SHE ENTERED MY LIFE AND NOW I HAVE DRIVE ONCE MORE... SSSHE EVEN MANAGED TO CONVINCE ME TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE, ALASSSTOR...!"

He's beaming, pressing his hands to his cheeks as he rubs them. Oh no, he's so in love.

"I WENT FROM A BITTER, LONELY, HATEFUL MAN TO HAVING A FRIEND, AND...! A WONDERFUL WOMAN IN MY UNLIFE...!"

Alastor

Alastor stares at the ceiling as his nausea finds a way to twist into horrible new shapes. It should have been him. It could have been—if not for his own goddamn, stupid...

He rubs his face (still smiling? good) and then sits up to try to move from the couch to the floor—wow that's a lot of snake down there. He turns and tries to lift his legs over Sir Pentious's body to swing off the couch, loses his coordination, and falls off the couch to land on his ass on the floor with his legs flung across Sir Pentious's tail. He flings an arm around Sir Pentious's shoulders and declares, "And it shouldn't have taken you HALF that long to get all that—and more! Why, you should never have lost it in the first place." He leans closer to Sir Pentious and says insistently, "But you have it now, and I am TRULY glad that you do." And he is. As much as he desperately, furiously wishes all that could have come from him—he's proven quite conclusively that he's not at all equipped to offer it, so better that Sir Pentious found someone who is. "And you don't know how honored I am to have been given a second chance to be a part of it. Goodness knows I don't deserve it, ha!"

Sir Pentious

The sudden THUD of Alastor falling on the floor definitely startles Pentious enough to open up his hood--but soon he's got the deer next to his head with that arm around his shoulders, and Sir Pentious can't help the little smile that accompanies that. Friend.

"WELL, ALASSSTOR, DO ANY OF US DESERVE SSSssECOND CHANCES?" He was PRETTY drunk, just listen to that slurred speech. "BECAUSE THISSSS IS HELL, I THINK NOT! BUT.... FRANKLY, MY FRIEND, I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! WE'VE BEEN DOWN HERE LONG ENOUGH, LET'Ssss GET sssssSOMETHING OUT OF IT!"

And he bumps his head affectionately against Alastor's. Bonk. Probably better not to mention this to him when he's sober.

Alastor

If head-bonking is on the table now, then so is sustained head contact. It's like a bonk that doesn't end. He tilts his head sideways against Sir Pentious's, they're making contact, no take-backs.

"No, no, of course we don't deserve second chances." He laughs ruefully. "But there's the thing: if you don't deserve a second chance, usually that means nobody's going to GIVE you any! Which makes it all the more—all the more... Well, YOU DID! You said just a bit ago that you WERE optimistic—if you ask me—not that you asked me, but I'm telling you anyway—you still are."

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' tongue sticks out in the most ridiculous way as he practically beams. What a smile. It's like a large C trying to take over his entire face.

"OHH, DON'T INssssSULT ME~" he waves a hand.... "OPTIMISSSTIC.... SSUCH A FAR FETCHED IDEA! AND YET.... IT DOESN'T ALL FEEL SSSO POINTLESS, NOW."

He purrrrrrs. It's a cobra sound, deep and raspy, but the growling is curled enough to sound content. It's not a friendly sound if you're used to cats, but at least he wasn't about to bite.

"ARE YOU OPTIMISSSTIC, ALASSSTOR?"

Alastor

Pressed as close to Sir Pentious as he is, Alastor can practically feel him smiling without having to turn and look at it. He can DEFINITELY feel that raspy purr—even as calm as Sir Pentious is, there's an edge of something dangerous to the sound. (It reminds him of fangs sinking into his throat.) Alastor is sure the reason he feels a little light-headed is because of the alcohol.

"It's not an insult!" Alastor lays his free hand dramatically on his chest as if he's offended at the mere suggestion; then pauses and amends himself: "It would be an insult toward anyone else. But YOU wear it well!" He pauses again and amends himself again: "Wore it well. Anyway—no. I'm not. Not sure if I ever was one, but I'm even less of one now."

Sir Pentious

Alastor often talked so much, most of his commentary or idle prattle was just background noise.

Sir Pentious looks to the other--but since their heads are together, it's more like a nuzzle. Nuzzle nuzzle........

"AND WHAT WOULD HELP YOU BECOME MORE OPTIMISSSTIC? YOU'VE ALWAYSSSS BEEN A MYSSSTERY TO ME, ALASTOR."

Alastor

Ah, every radio host's greatest fear: to be switched on and left ignored in the corner, nothing but idle noise for a busy listener to hear but tune out.

Alastor 100% mistakes the gesture for a nuzzle and returns it eagerly. How did he get this lucky this fast?

"I—huh." He doesn't think "you" would make a very good answer. "Optimism is hard to come by in Hell."

Sir Pentious

Luckily, Sir Pentious is too hammered to question it, although he does make a face.

"DID.... YOU CHANGE YOUR HAIR?"

Yep. He's only just noticed now.

Alastor

He's too hammered to realize Sir Pentious really should have noticed sooner. "Oh! Yes!" He leans away slightly so he can turn toward Sir Pentious and point at his hair. (He's not letting go of Sir Pentious's shoulders, though.) "This is how I usually—well, I guess I can't say 'usually' anymore—how I used to wear it! How I prefer it. Do you like it?"

Sir Pentious

He has to focus his eyes a little, giving him a once over..... Hmmmmm.

"I'M NOT USED TO IT, THE RED SUITS YOU MUCH BETTER!" Or rather, Sir Pentious prefers it, "THIS STYLE DOES MAKE YOU LOOK YOUNGER...."

Alastor

His ears droop slightly, but it doesn't touch his tone as he says, "Well—don't you worry, I'm sure the red will be back soon enough! I never can manage to maintain this look." He wonders if "younger" is good or bad.

Sir Pentious

"WELL IT ISN'T BAD, I JUST DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE WITH IT. WE ONLY MET IN DEATH." Sir Pentious attempts to clarify, his tail slithering off the couch and.... FLOPPING on top of Alastor's body. Trapped.

Alastor

Trapped... or embraced??

"Fair enough. I'm not going to pretend I didn't act differently back when I looked like this than I do now!" He leans a little more heavily on Sir Pentious for a moment, "And I suppose I'd have to adjust if you showed up one day with a curtain of black hair instead of a hood."

He drops his free hand on top of Sir Pentious's tail. NOW who's trapped? "... Do you miss your body?"

Sir Pentious

Oh yes, definitely, it is Sir Pentious who is trapped. A prisoner of the deer.

The question gives him pause, and he thinks... Does he remember it well? Does he miss it?

"NO. NOT PARTICULARLY. I WAS A THIN, FRAIL SORT OF MAN. UNREMARKABLE. AT LEAST UNTIL I FINALLY BEGAN MY TERRORIZING OF LONDON, THAT IS."

He grins, "DANDY SUITSSS AND WHAT NOT. BUT, I SAY, I'M MUCH MORE RECOGNIZABLE LIKE THIS. I HAVE MORE PRESENCE THAN EVER BEFORE. LEGS ARE A HASSLE."

Maybe he can't waltz anymore, but it's not like he ever enjoyed those fancy parties.

Alastor

"Isn't everyone unremarkable until they find something to start terrorizing?" Alastor doesn't find many people remarkable, anyway. "Snakeskin suits you. I've SEEN pictures of you—other you—but I'm sure if I was asked to try to describe what you'd looked like, I'd describe you as a cobra first and then try to explain what's different."

Sir Pentious

"OH, HAVE YOU SEEN PICTURES OF ME?" Big. Big pupils. They're huge like kitten eyes as he looks at Alastor.

"RIGHT, BECAUSE OF YOUR HISTORY WITH THE SERPENT OF YOUR HELL..."

He flops his head back down, "FOR A MOMENT, I THOUGHT YOU'D HEARD OF ME FROM THE LIVING WORLD, BUT, AMERICANS LIKELY DON'T CONCERN THEMSELVES MUCH WITH THE ENGLISH ANYMORE."

Alastor

Oh, hold on, give Alastor a moment to stare into those eyes. Okay. He's good.

"Sure, I'd heard of you in the living world! Why, we covered you in history class! Early films showed who the top bad guy was by giving him long black hair."

Sir Pentious

what. WHAT

In a FLASH, Sir Pentious pinned Alastor to the floor, face mere inches from his.

"YOU'VE HEARD OF ME?? YOU WERE TAUGHT OF ME?? I MADE SSSSSOME KIND OF AN IMPACT???!!! DETAILSSSSS, MAN!"

Alastor

"I—sure, of course you made an impact! You invented air combat a generation before anyone else figured out how to get off the ground, how could you NOT make an impact?" How could HE think he hadn't made an impact?

Sir Pentious

He's. Staring.

Alastor

Alastor's staring back. He's really digging all this soulful eye contact.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious had just found out, after decades, that he'd ACTUALLY made an impact--nobody had ever known who he was, even soon after his death.

Apparently the Jack the Ripper murders were far more enticing than Pentious blowing up the Savoy.

Alastor

Sir Pentious is still staring. Alastor should probably give him a little more than that to go on. "They named an entire chapter in our history textbook after you. 'The Serpentine Decade.' Between Reconstruction and the Gilded... Do... do people not know who you are in your version of things?"

Sir Pentious

Oh no.

He's known? In a different variation of the world?

Pentious sits back, staring wide eyed into the middle distance...

"EVERY TIME I INQUIRED, NO ONE... NO ONE KNEW WHO I WAS. IT WAS AS IF MY DEEDS WERE COMPLETELY UNHEARD OF."

Alastor

Alastor watches his face closely, trying to figure out what he's thinking. Considering Alastor's own vision is a little blurry at the moment, he can't quite make it out. "Well—rest assured, as long as you're over here, there will be no one who's died in over a hundred years who doesn't know your name."

Probably a hyperbole—surely SOMEONE hadn't been taught their history properly—but certainly Sir Pentious himself was unlikely to run into anybody who didn't know.

Whether they still took him seriously after a few years dead and watching the reigning overlords sneer at the old supervillain's airships was quite another question, but Sir Pentious didn't need to know that.

Sir Pentious

He places his talons together, scratching at his gloves. Oh... This was such an amazing situation.

As long as he's here, EVERYONE knows who he is, historically speaking. But. Well.

Not the same Sir Pentious. The serpent suddenly felt envy flare inside of him, but he shook his head. No, no. Dwell on that later......

...... He looks back at Alastor, "WAIT. AREN'T YOU AMERICAN? WHY WERE YOU STUDYING ME?"

While his father was an immigrant, it didn't really make sense to him that that would do it.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious has to ask, then his history really IS different. Alastor fears that this little cross-dimensional compare-and-contrast is going to leave Sir Pentious not with the lesson "I'm remembered somewhere," but "a different version of me was more successful than I am." In the back of his mind, Alastor starts figuring out what he'll say if that happens.

"Over here, you decided to hop overseas before beginning your rampage. You were the absolute bane of the east coast. You made a far bigger impact on us than you did on England."

Sir Pentious

Well, that answers that! He smirks, looking devilish. "NYA HA HAAAAAAA! DID I FLY OVER? CAUGHT YOU ALL BY SSSSURPRISE, DID I? HOW ENTERTAINING! YOU KNOW, I SHOULD HAVE MOVED TO AMERICA WHEN MY WIFE LEFT ME... A NEW SSTART WOULD HAVE DONE ME SSOME GOOD."

He stares kind of. Hollowly at his hands. Instead, he'd lost several years of his life to addiction and insanity. And any chance of meeting his son.

"I WANTED TO BE RECOGNIZED--I KNEW I WAS BRILLIANT, BUT THOSE BASSSTARDSSSS REFUSED TO SSSEE IT. I MADE THEM SSSEE JUSST WHAT I WAS CAPABLE OF, EVEN IF IT COSSSST ME EVERYTHING."

Alastor

Alastor's not sure when his own Sir Pentious's wife left him—maybe it HAD been before he started his rampage? Certainly a wife had never been mentioned in any of the biographical materials Alastor had seen on Sir Pentious.

"I don't see how anyone could refuse to see it now," Alastor says dryly. "Unless it's out of sheer, stubborn spite! But if so, that says more about THEM than you, doesn't it?"

Sir Pentious

He lies down directly on Alastor. Yep. Crushing him.

"YES, BUT THEY ARE VERY LOUD, AND I AM TIRED....."

Alastor

Oh. Oh this is... this sure is something that only happened once, right before Alastor ruined everything.

Not this time. This time he's getting it right.

He slides his arms around Sir Pentious's back and holds him tight. "I'm louder." A dozen voices buzz like locusts under Alastor's words.

Sir Pentious

Sir Pentious' eyes widened, but... He didn't sit up in an offended rage. Instead, he processed what was going on slowly....

He was being embraced by his old friend. Alastor, from a version of events that seemed better off. The old inventor didn't move, but he didn't hiss either. He just breathed deeply.

"I KNOW YOU ARE, MY FRIEND."

Alastor

My friend. Alastor can hardly believe how good that feels to hear. To have this heavy weight on him, proving that this is all real. He lets his eyes slide shut, taking the rare opportunity to bask in the tactile sensations. "So if you ever need someone to drown them out... you know the frequencies you can reach me on, pal."

#((in a few hours Alastor wakes up with a hangover and a snake and goes 'if I don't move I can stay like this for a year right'))#hissandvinegar #chat log

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thewritewolf · 4 years ago

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Two For Two Chapter 12: Falling

A sky-high supervillain forces our heroes to use the yellow potion of flight.

@ladynoirjuly2020

Enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Read on Ao3

If Hawkmoth was going to repeat akuma ideas, Adrien would prefer if he’d at least repeat the fun ones. Like Gamer 2.0 or Mister Pidgeon. Well, maybe not Mister Pidgeon exactly since Adrien was always sent into sneezing fits for those fights, but still. Something easy or at least fun.

Certainly not being shot into space, like with Startrain or the Bubbler. And yet, that was exactly where Adrien found himself now. Riding a tiny spaceship - almost more a rocket with some cargo space - into the upper atmosphere.

Adrien shook his head and started digging through his bag.

“Correct me if I am wrong but,” Sass began, looking out the convenient window. “I feel that thisss is not good?”

“Great job, sass, you’ve really nailed it,” Plagg said, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms and looked at Adrien. “So what’s the plan, kid? I doubt the bug is gonna be able to get you out of this mess.”

“Well, she sort of already did.”

“Huh?”

“Just give me a second… Aha!” He pulled out the container full of dyed cheeses. “Yellow is going to be our best bet, I think.”

“Bleh! Yellow potion tastes awful.” Plagg stuck out his tongue. He grabbed Sass and pushed him towards Adrien. “You’re the new kwami on the block, so you’re gonna have to take this one for me.”

Adrien gave a worried look to Sass who shrugged.

“Worry not, I am sssure you are in harmony enough with me to make full ussse of my powersss.” Sass tentatively took the cheese, his thin forked tongue darting out to taste it. “Hm… It has been some time since I have had some of the Guardians’ brew.”

“Okay, let’s give this a shot…” Adrien cleared his throat. “Plagg, claws out! Sky Sass, Plagg, unify!”

Snake Noir took a moment to stretch his wings and look at himself before he busted out of his rocket. His eyebrows rose when he saw in the reflection of the window that his bald cap had been replaced with a mane of rainbow feathers, and his mask had lost its domino mask appearance and looked painted on.

It suddenly hit him and he blinked in surprise. Wings?

Sure enough, he glanced to the sides and saw emerald green wings made of long feathers that reached to his knees even when held out completely. The edges and tips of the wings were lined with short white feathers, which naturally drew his eyes toward his chest, which was now coated with a crimson plumage.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting with a flight transformation, but in hindsight wings made sense. What surprised him even more was how using them already felt like second nature. Snake Noir punched out the window with cataclysm and leapt out of the rocket, plummeting towards the ground where he knew that his lady was fighting alone.

-------------------------------

Marinette watched another set of rockets blasting off into the sky, her lips pressed into a thin line of determination.

“If I am not mistaken, that doesn’t seem like the standard fare for Parisian life,” Longg commented drily. “What is to be done about it?”

“Marinette is going to go after them, of course!” Tikki said resolutely, brimming with confidence. “Right, Marinette?”

“No doubt about it, Tikki.” Marinette pulled out a yellow dyed cookie. “But I think we’ll need a little extra help this time, just in case whoever this is catches us.”

“That’s a great idea!” Tikki’s enthusiasm dimmed a bit. “But it might be best if you give that to Longg.”

“Why’s that?” Marinette scrunched up her eyebrows.

“Not all power ups are created equal, young Guardian,” Longg said with a bow. “Some kwami take better to the brews than others.”

“Yes. I’ll give you the power of flight, sure. But Longg’s is faster and more nimble.”

Longg nodded sagely. “The lack of wings also means you cannot be suddenly robbed of your gifts.”

“No wings? Then how do you-” Marinette shook her head vigorously. “Never mind, I guess I’ll find out.” She passed the cookie to Longg. While he was eating, she said, “Tikki, spots on!”

The potion took effect and Ladybug took a moment to brace herself for whatever was about to happen. “Tikki, Sky Longg, unify!”

At first, she didn’t really notice anything different. That lasted until she realized that she was floating a couple meters off the ground and her hair had lengthened into a massive, shimmering wave that rippled behind her like a dragon’s tail. She willed herself to move and found that her hair always stayed behind her and glided of its own accord as she flew in a direction.

Dragonbug understood what Tikki meant about Longg’s power of flight. The smoothness of it was like a dream as she easily sailed into the air and looked for the akuma. Which, judging by the yelling, called himself Rocketman. He lived up to the name too - besides the rockets that he sent people up in, he had what looked like a jet-boosted surfboard that he used to fly around and an outfit that looked like a fashion moghul had been given five minutes to design a suit with only the word ‘rocket’ as their guiding principle.

Not only was Dragonbug fighting for Paris and its people today - she was fighting to end this abomination in the eyes of fashion.

Rocketman was just about to catch another group of people when she snared his board with her yoyo and yanked it to the side, sending the rockets harmless into the ground. There, they burst into smoke after failing to capture anyone. An angry glare was on his face as he whipped around to look at her, before quickly melding into a look of maddened joy.

“Its about time one of you showed up. I was beginning to think you’d already been sent sky high!” He spun his board around to face her. “And now you will have the honor of being beaten by ROCKETMAN!”

“Keep dreaming,” Dragonbug said as she nimbly dodged the rockets sent toward her. “Way better villains than you have had their butts kicked by me.”

“They had to fight two meddling heroes.” Rocketman grinned. “I only have to fight one.”

He unleashed a wild barrage of rockets and it was all she could do to avoid it. Despite her earlier confidence, she was worried she would have to waste time - or worse yet, one of her powers - to break free. Especially when she had to go at double speed to dodge one rocket… and the momentum carried her into the path of another.

Her jaw clenched as she prepared to take the hit.

But it never came.

Instead, there was a loud clanging noise and a wild blur of greens and blacks and reds. Snake Noir had plummeted from above and smacked the rocket, sending it into a tailspin toward the ground. His wings stabilized him and he shot her a playful wink before turning back toward the Rocketman.

“You were pretty close there! You almost winged my lady. I can’t let you get away with that, now can I?”

“Nice wings, chaton.”

“Thank you, m’lady! And can I just say, I love what you’ve done with your hair today?”

“Hey! How dare you-” While Rocketman launched into a tirade about them not taking him seriously, Dragonbug drifted forward toward her partner.

“Chat,” she whispered. “Can you distract him while I summon my lucky charm?”

“Leave it to this cat to cause some mayhem!” He grinned and with a few powerful strokes of his wings soared above Rocketman and dived toward him.

With the akuma on the backfoot for now, Dragonbug summoned her lucky charm. A frown creased her face as a tall glass bottle - red and spotted, naturally - dropped into her hands.

“A bottle?” She shook it and felt liquid slosh around inside it. “Full of… something. Reminds me of-” Her eyes widened as she had a moment of remembering the meal her papa had made just the day before. “Oh!”

She threw it over the akuma and yelled out to her partner. “Chat! Break it!”

There was no hesitation or any questions on his part. In the span of a second he’d glanced from her to the bottle and immediately extended his baton and smashed the bottle. The akuma raised its arms to block as glass shards and a pale yellow liquid rained down on him.

Confusion gripped his face as he sniffed it. “...Olive oil?”

Snake Noir glanced back at her and she made a subtle motion to follow her. Then she flew away from the akuma at top speed, staying close to street level, but not so fast that he couldn’t keep up. Snake Noir was right behind her.

“Hey! Get back here,” Rocketman shouted indignantly as he gave pursuit. Even from this distance she could see the purple mask outline around his face - no doubt Hawkmoth was warning him about a trap, but Rocketman was in no mood to listen.

“What’s the plan, LB?”

“Just follow right behind me, okay? We’re going to make a hard turn in 3… 2… Now!”

They both suddenly veered to the right around a building. Rocketman turned as well…

...only to slide right off his board.

“Oh, the oil!” Snake Noir hit his forehead. “I get it now.”

“Mhm. Now if you’d be a good chaton and break that board.”

“Your wish is my command, bugaboo.”

A quick purification and Ladybug Cure later, and the two of them were fistbumping over another victory.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Ladynoir #Snake Noir #Dragonbug #LadynoirJuly2020 #Sass #Plagg #Longg #Tikki #ml fanfiction #my writing #Two For Two

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wroteclassicaly · 5 years ago

Text

Dibs

A/N: Heeeeeeeey, loves! I’m back and pretty proud of this one! It’s a two part story, this obviously being the first part. Smut will be in the next one. I’ve wanted to write this idea since I came up with it the night of the season premiere.

Reader is plus size in this one. She is also Chef Bertie’s daughter. There’s some major self-esteem issues and some self-bashing in this one, so be warned. I hope ya’ll enjoy! Lemme know what you think? :)

P.S. I’ve changed a few things around to fit the reader in. Dialogue, mostly. It’s not that much of a change though, so don’t worry.

Also, I can’t seem to get my taglist to work right, so I don’t tag anyone. I’m sorry. :(

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x Female reader

Word count: 2,691

Warnings: Explicit language, references to smut and virginity, self-esteem issues, poor body image issues

Looking forward to something during the summer months wasn't usually your forte, but this season seemed to be taking drastic approaching turns already. You'd been coerced into coming help your mom work the kitchen of Camp Redwood. Massacres and legends galore, bugs and snakes touring your housing. Sounded so fun to you. Your mom didn't want to leave you at your home alone, so you hesitantly agreed to get away from the dangers in Los Angeles and help out at the camp with her.

The drive up you imagined all sorts of various and vile scenarios. Woods and stories caught your imagination and refused to leave without a searing tongue lashed haunting. Your mom had assured you things would be okay this time around, that she wouldn't let anything happen to you, but it still felt so unsettling to be surrounded by nothing but dirt and trees and a large body of midnight fresh water. For your mom, however, you opted for the positive side of things, and sucked it up. You met with the eccentric and eerie Margaret, hovering closely to any exits you could think about, then escaped to the cabin you would be sharing with your mother to put your things away.

Margaret had informed you and your mom that a group of counselor volunteers would be arriving in the afternoon, leaving your stomach to tumble into the anxiety founded pits it always was. You hated much social interaction, even living in one of the world's largest cities. You avoided leisure activities and parties that were too high octane. You cared only about the peace and quiet, a few close friends, your books, and your music. You were grateful you had been permitted to bring along some albums and your record player, because without it, you could not function.

Setting out your music, you had tasked yourself out to sweep and mop the dining hall and kitchen. Covered in sweat and grime, hair pulled back into a messy mopped bun, the entire area became brand new once more. So much so that you had to stand and admire, the enriching draped melodies from Stevie Wonder casting a serene, echoing production to highlight your hard work. You hadn't noticed until Margaret jabbed a nail into your tank top clad shoulder, causing you to nearly deck her in the face with your broom handle. She raised a manicured brow, annoyance perched on her poker faced features, asking you to come meet the newest additions to the staff, as they would be arriving soon and you still had to bring food into the kitchen pantry.

Reluctantly, you followed your camp leader out into your new life for the next few months.

~*~

Present day: The First Night

Your insides feel as if they have all been twisted together like licorice, coolness spreading through your veins, erecting goosebumps all across your flesh. You self-consciously grip your noticeable stomach, already prepared for an array of flashy and skimpy clothed girls to accompany muscular, tight fitted guys. You don't fit in. Not being more than overweight, but what doctors seemed to call obese, with a swell to your face and the rest of you in places all around your thick form. In this day and age, not many girls your size are praised or celebrated in music and on television.

Sure, there were a few, but the movies you have seen are the overweight girl being an extra, a classmate, the bestfriend, the loner, the reject, or the propping joke. Fat is funny in LA, you aren't stupid. And no matter how far you run from it, you'd have to face scrutiny, even here. Your thinking is pregnant with triplets on this one, as you don't even bat a blink walking out with the Carrie White's mother - Margaret White -esque Camp owner, to meet everyone. Worn sneakers and boots from different brand names dusted in California soil is what you see before meeting the eyes of a very petite brunette.

That's the first counselor that smacks your self-esteem straight into the pits of hell. And the blonde girl near her in the colorful and tight outfit? Yeah, you want to find a hole and dig it twelve feet under. Six feet for your humiliation, adding on an additional six for your fat ass body. You want to run, but, yeah, right.

If you don't speak then you will look stupid, more so than you do now, covered in perspiration and dirt smudges. Margaret makes an introduction that collides right into you stepping behind your mom, getting an eyeful of the two handsome guys with the girls, reaching for a crate of eggs, attempting to look busy as to bay the awkward pause. Everyone says a few brisk words of greeting, those male counselors snickering. Why did you come here? The risks back home are far more tempting right about now.

Your nose catches the scent first, the sound of the person's shoes hitting ground second. Clad in this overly musky scent that seems to glide itself across the air, a rapturous, creamy silk-like voice hits the atmosphere and flips you head over ass.

"Dibs."

Your mom is snapping back with her wit, shoving her crate into his hands and moving away from his speechless face to leave you visible. Standing still, your box seemingly heavy, body light, you can't but help yourself to a heaping serving of observation. His pants are tan, or white, belt tightly securing those defined hips, his sneakers stretched over long feet (don't they say long feet mean... okay then, holy fuck), and sea-foam green muscle tank that leaves nothing to the imagination, except how much leverage you'd have to straddle his chest...

"And this is Y/N. She's joining us with her mother, whom is Chef Bertie. She won't be bunking with the ladies, however. But I still expect of all you to get along and make her feel apart of things, as she will also be partaking in counselor duties for the summer." Margaret's voice interjects, right smack into your looking into this guy's angelically crafted face.

You can't see what color his eyes are over his designer frames, just blue hued glimpses reflected off California sunshine. His plump lips are wet with amusement and surprise at your reveal, jaw sharp and alert, so arching and shaped it can cut through glass. There's a small cross dangling from his left ear, his hair is frosted at the top. He looks like some guitarist that has actual angel wings. His arms are steady, hands big.

You can swear there's a saxophone player somewhere playing a soundtrack for this very moment. You kind of, no, record SCRATCH that, you definitely need to find a seat somewhere and pour a glass of ice water over your head. For a fleeting moment you think you might need to attempt Olympic running towards the infirmary, cause this is some sort of General Hospital soap opera scene. You can't stop yourself from how you do react though. Biting your upper lip, eyes dashing mad all across his body, you're engulfed in more than the summer California heat.

You see the metal of his silver cross earring catch the light, and you know that even God himself can't help you now. Looking at this man in the blue shirt, you feel as if you've committed a lifetime of the most blood deep sins. You feel the need to ask Margaret to save you in the lake, some prayer needing to happen before you feel anymore guilt for objectifying this stranger. What feels like never-ending hours is merely a minute at most, making you look even more awkward and ignorant. Margaret does save you this time, introducing each counselor, the sensual blue eyed boy called Xavier Plympton, to your amusement, then with a seemingly arrogant grin on her peach painted lips, demands you take Xavier and the other two attractive male counselors - Ray and Chet, to finish carrying the crates of fruit and eggs to the kitchen pantry.

A dying 'hi' towards the friendly faces of the group is all you muster, rolling a shoulder back to the truck for the boys to take the hint. Xavier already has his share from what your mom gave him, so it's quick work for the other two. You don't talk, don't look at any of them on the way into the large dining area and back into the kitchen where your mom is hard at work. All the guys pile beside you, so you figure that now is the time to find your damn voice box and activate its fucking switch.

"You can just leave the stuff here, guys. Some of the other staff is in charge of stocking it anyways. They're real particular on everything, you know? We appreciate your help!" You ramble on, eyes widening when you spot Xavier - shades now clipped to his collar - smirking at you, pearly whites gleaming tauntingly.

Everyone, yourself included, all discard your food onto the chipped wooden counter. You fold your hands into fists on its hard surface, knuckles pressing together, lips pinched tight, feeling this tickle attack you from the tips of your toes and back, leaving you absolutely parched and winded both.

"So you're the Chef's daughter, huh?" Ray is the first to speak to you.

You turn to his direction to see him leaning a few feet beside you, propped against the end of the countertop by his elbow. His smile is genuine, calm, excited even.

He must really have wanted to be here this summer.

"Yeah." Is your proud response. Your mom is a hard worker with a zero tolerance policy for bullshit or dumbasses, so you're very proud to call yourself her child.

"Kind of a given you'd be here with her, right? That's cool. Most kids wouldn't volunteer their time to help their Mama at some sweaty ass camp in the middle of nowhere. You even gettin' anything in return from this?" Ray questions again.

Your body warms a little, not used to this duration of a conversation, let alone by someone this cute, this cool, who seems nice enough. You find yourself softening towards his presence, friendly and open in your answers.

"She'll share whatever she makes with me, so it's a win win. I have to clean the camp, so I'll also pull in my own money, then we put it all together. Living in LA is fucking expensive."

"Wait-" Chet cuts in. "You still live with your mom? Aren't you in your twenties or some shit? Don't you have any plans back home?"

Yup, there it is.

You were expecting some sort of snide commentary from at least someone in this group. You're unsure how to answer. It's not that your lifestyle is something you're ashamed of, it's just that you're beyond sick and tired at the ridicule it brings. Your mood is deflated, head bowing a little at Chet's laughter. Maybe it's not malicious, but to you, it isn't funny either.

"At least she didn't blow a chunk of cash on condoms and cheap ass cologne to impress Brooke. No one likes a cocky counselor, Chet." Sounds to your left.

Ray snorts into his hand, easing back at Xavier's biting remark. Your jaw becomes unhinged with a loud giggle that makes Xavier lick his tongue across the top edge of his teeth. He's super focused on you, sharing this knowing that eases and unsettles you all at once. Ray and Chet begin a bicker at Chet's expense, Xavier continuing to watch you in a similar fashion as you were observing him earlier. The floor feels like lava under your feet, your legs jello.

"Better get back outside, kids. Boss lady will be getting impatient." Your mom's helper speaks to you from the kitchen.

You give him a nod, trance broken. Moving one foot in front of the other is hard, but you get it right, breezing past Xavier and the rest, right back into the summer heat wave.

~*~

After the conversation your mom directed over her history with this Camp and her current decision to return, Margaret invited you to tour the grounds again with everyone else after formal introductions were completed. You weren't going to disagree, not with the possibility of sneaking looks in Xavier's way, hearing the things that came from his perfect mouth. You're fucking sickening, like some dingbat ditz on a sugar high that's having an affair with lust. The whole tour was boring and subpar, but worth it to see Xavier in action. Margaret stops everyone outside the cabin with, in your opinion, the finest views, to preach her rules onto everyone.

You're cringing, already choking on heaps of unshed laughter and snorts. Everyone but Brooke seems to be amused. Brooke seems the most like you, so it's a comfort. Xavier has his debate locked and gone, metaphoric smoke trailing behind of his tongue, following his words like a steaming mug of honey-hot tea. After his fist bump with Ray he makes sure to give a nodding little grin your way.

A bashful smile colors your mouth.

"Y/N is true to her pure body, to herself, to the Lord. She hasn't polluted it with the perversions of today, have you, sweetheart?" Margaret's voice is that bucket of ice water you could've used earlier.

You have to grab onto the other side of the doorway to keep it together, your heartbeat in your throat. How in the fuck does she know what you do, or for that damned matter, if you've done anyone before? The entirety of everyone's attention is on you now. Your eyes are sharp on Margaret's, her joy apparent. You see right through her bullshit.

She can read people, and she's just used that to her very public advantage.

Whatever. Fuck her.

"I don't know how you’d know about my personal life, or why it matters towards the situation of a damned summer camp, Miss Booth." You snap, cheeks hot with anger, neck flushed with adrenaline.

Her head twitches as if she's some robotic experiment in a lab, but she catches herself, a plastered on smile melting back into place. "Damned is the farthest thing from the grounds on which this Camp sits, Y/N. And as for your earlier inquiry? I have known your mother for half of my adult life, so that means I also know you."

You're in place, still stunned. How does knowing your mom have anything to do with Margaret knowing you're a virgin? It's not something your mom would broadcast to anyone. Luckily, it's a dropped topic. You're given looks you expect, especially by Chet and Montana. Ray and Brooke, who stops to turn around and give a compassionate smile, are the more sympathetic and understanding.

That leaves... him. You're petrified to turn and see his cliché reaction. He doesn't say anything, not at first, only moving past you. But when stops, a partial pivot, there's an almost relieved expression on his face. The breeze picks up a little, making you brush a lock of escaped hair from your messy style.

The grass and dirt crunches under his weight as he approaches you, stopping a decent distance. You can't breathe, can't comprehend anything out of this shared airspace. The wind has the little cross swaying against his lobe, his lips are plump, the blue in his eyes darkening to the shadows of the summer shade. There's rain on the air. It's going to rain tonight.

"You know I teach at an exercise studio in Los Angeles, Y/N? I'm good at helping people learn."

So he's baiting me to come to his gym with my fat body? Prolong the shame?

You want to further scold yourself for thinking he'd be anything but a shallow Hollywood hottie. Typical.

Before the tears even make themselves form, Xavier is moving closer. You don't stop him, don't take the out his slow and respectful pace is giving you. He's tilting in a little more so that wisp of frosted hair brushes your nose, his breath warm and minty.

"A virgin, huh? I guess it works out that I'm a teacher."

#xavier plympton #xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton x you #ahs fanfiction #ahs fic #xavier plympton fic #xavier plympton fanfiction #ahs #ahsfx #american horror story #ahs9 #ahs: 1984 #ahs 1984 #kristenwrites #ahs 1984 fanfic #ahs 1984 fanfiction #american horror story fanfiction

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indieks · 5 years ago

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Two Nights, One Da(y)te 🌒 Lee Jooheon | 1.5/2

🔥 Pairing : Lee Jooheon x Reader

🔥 Genre : Soulmate!AU, Angst, Fluff, Suggestive (light)

🔥 Word count : 25.3k

🔥 Synopsis : He should have been just another Tinder match you would have swiped off your life just like you swiped your thumb on your screen that night, hadn’t it been for the deep connection that bonds you to him. He is your soulmate, you are a girl he can’t help but get attracted to. You are seeking for the perfect relationship, he is trying to stay away from love. Would the few times you come across each other be enough for your opposite hearts to face the same direction?

Part 1 /\ Part 1.5 /\ Part 2

🔥 A/N : I don’t know where I should begin... I’m so relieved to finally be able to publish the sequel of this story, but I’m so sorry at the same time for being this late. My past year (I can’t believe it’s already been a year) has been hectic and busy, my studies being the most intensive and time-solliciting ever. But I’ve managed to type a few words here and there, to finally come up with this part ; and no, it isn’t the ending one like I had planned to, because I had so many things to tell that it would’ve been too long, so I had to cut it into two!

Anyway, I just wanted to thank every single one of you who’ll take the time to read this, especially if there are some of you who were still waiting... I’ve missed Tumblr and I hope you’ll like it!

Disclaimer : the few new named characters I’ve introduced are purely fictional, I’ll just let your imagination be!

"You're dozing off, again" a low voice finally snaked its way into his closed eardrums that had muted any possible sound buzzing around him, letting his messy thoughts rule over his focus and his awareness of where he actually was.

Jooheon snapped his head towards the left to peak at his interlocutor, being met by his bartender colleague's sad smile, Wonwoo, who shook him lightly as he had landed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"You should take a break" he then suggested to the reddish-haired boy who looked back at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"W-What? No, I'm fine, I'm sorry I just… Got a lot on my mind lately" Jooheon then brushed his offer off with a forced smile of his and a gentle nod to ask for his understanding and forgiveness.

"Hyung, I've been taking over your third customer because you've left the counter to take a bottle of vodka like five minutes ago yet never came back" Wonwoo chuckled, releasing the tensed muscles of the man next to him from his grasp.

"Five? No kidding? Wow shit I'm so sorry" Jooheon apologized again before sighing, his now squinted eyes meeting his own reflection in the glasses that were plastered behind the rows of bottles at the back of their bar.

The night club's neon-lights painted his face in warm colors, contrasting with how pale and expressionless it had been for weeks now. He looked miserable in spite of the fancy hairstyle he had put effort in and his attempt to feel confident by opening his shirt a little bit too much for the ladies – in vain, as his mind wasn't even here to actually catch them lurking.

"It's okay hyung, I can see you're going through hardships lately. So if you need to take a small break, go ahead, you'll pay me back later" his tall friend reassured him before turning back to their counter where a crowd of thirsty people was already asking for his services.

Jooheon's knuckles that had indeed been around the bottle of alcohol he had indeed intended to bring back to the front weren't fed with blood anymore as his clench tightened around it. He was confused as hell, hell he thought he had already been living in all this time but which seemed to have darkened and deepened with discomfort ever since he had sent that very message to you and you had had the last word.

He could almost recite your answer by heart aloud, as he had come to read and reread it, the words planting swords of doubt, regret, and want in his body. And if he had managed to push it aside most of the time by busying himself with work at the club or on some music, it only took one glimpse of your face flashing randomly through his head from time to time, for him to get blocked into a quicksand of thoughts about you, about his feelings, about his choices, and his mind would be on full stop just like it had now.

But five minutes straight… Wow, that was a record.

You [00:44 a.m.] : I'm alone at my place, so now I have nothing to distract me anymore… I shall finally muster up my courage after hours of thinking about what to actually say. I don't know if I'm mad, upset, frustrated. Maybe a mix of them three. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you with a heavy block of words but I'll just let it all out. I spent a wonderful night with you last time. And as I told you back then, I like you, and I'm sorry. I like you and I can't do anything about it, I'm almost bothered by it myself, because you kind of warned me about your issues. Maybe I was the only one feeling this way, but that night was really special to me, and that independently of the fact that you're my ideal. Special enough for me to stop thinking about what should come next, which is sooo unlike me. And I thought I had somehow convinced you to do just the same, appreciating that thing between us. Between us, yes, as in from me to you, but also from you to me, because I felt like it wasn't one-sided. I shall thank you for trying to explain yourself again and your decision, but I'm having a hard time understanding why everything that had apparently made you come to me suddenly disappeared, or why it wasn't enough again for you to let things unwrap on their own and see where we would end up. See, I told you, I'm not enough, not even for my soulmate haha ! Anyway, I'll have to respect your decision because I can't do anything about it, right?"

Everything had gone well that night. Jooheon hadn't felt the time run out through his fingers wrapped around your waist, molding perfectly against your skin as if they had been supposed to land just there. Everything had gone so well, that he had thought he would finally be able to overcome his insecurities, as the way you had freed him from his knots of thoughts and his heavy shell had definitely showcased how special you were, reason why he had made a move first the afternoon following your leave and started a conversation.

However, the time with you and the messages you had exchanged had only been a suspension of the weight crushing his heart, and not its eradication. Because soon, the ghosts of Jooheon's lack of trust in himself had come back floating around him ; he had then realized he still felt betrayed too much to finally draw his sword and fight them, and chase the light you had shone on him.

Yet, why turning away from you was continuously bugging him even after three weeks of cutting ties? He missed your daily chatting, he missed your reassuring presence, and he somehow missed your touch and your lips. With just an encounter, a night next to him, and some text messages 'til the morning light, you had lodged a bullet right at his heart and the wound was spreading your print through his whole body. And now, it was as if he had run away, but with his eyes looking back at you all the while ; with the strings pulling at his bloody organ held by your hands ; with his mind paused back in that past night with you, unable to make him sort what was supposedly waiting for him onwards.

He had made this choice with the conviction that he still needed some time alone to go ahead with his life and mostly sort it out, but right now, what was left in front of him was only a battlefield of endless question marks, blocking his vision of where he should land his next footsteps away from the crossroad where his path had met yours.

Shit, he was regretting.

"Why did you change your mind, all of a sudden?" Kihyun asked him as Jooheon had ended up taking a short break with the encouragement of his colleague, and he had joined his group of friends who were sitting down at one of the fancy tables in the club.

They had been avoiding the subject for a while now as they knew how sensitive the bartender could be ; however, as the latter showed them how uneasy he felt about his decision himself to the point it had now impeached him from working correctly, Kihyun hadn't been able to hold it in any longer.

"What do you mean" Jooheon mumbled nonchalantly as he poured himself a glass of soda from one of the bottles of soft drinks they had spared.

"You told us that everything had went well that Friday night. I hadn't seen you smile like that when receiving a text for ages. So what happened, Jooheon-ah?" the boy specified, a worried expression clear on his face as his brows were furrowed and his little eyes were shining.

"In other words : why did you pee on yourself?" Changkyun tackled his friend intently, so that he'd gain a reaction from the zombie he had been all over again as if they were back when she had left him – and maybe, as a bonus, a spontaneous answer.

Bingo.

"Would you leave me alone, please? I feel like my head's gonna explode from all the overthinking about this already, so no need to add your questions to it, thanks!" Jooheon barked back at them, gulping down a huge sip from his glass before smashing it down on the table with a trembling hand.

The beverage was refreshing, but what he needed right now, were the flames of liquor to burn his insides so that he wouldn't feel them twisting anymore.

"Hey, we're trying to help here, calm down" Hoseok, one of the players of his ex-football team, warned with a hurt frown.

"Wanna know what I think?" Minhyuk spoke up, and he got an eye-roll in return.

"Actually, not that much…?" Jooheon tiredly inquired, because he knew what was about to come out of the blonde's mouth.

"I know you like the back of my hand Jooheon-ah, and what I'm sure of, is that you simply chickened out because you like the girl. And right now, you're having a headache, because you're just admitting it to yourself yet you don't know if you do want to take the proper actions that go with it, or not. I told you, that your heart doesn't give a damn about what's settled in your head" Minhyuk ignored his answer and looked him in the eye, unphased by the angry glare the fiery-haired boy shot right at him. "And while you're at it with your overthinking, just ask yourself the right questions : Did I enjoy the time I spent with her? Yes or no. Would I like it if I see her again? Yes or no. Do I wish to talk to her? Yes or no. Did I like kissing her? Would I like it if it happens ever again? Yes or no. If everything's a yes, then let me answer for you : maybe putting an end to it wasn't the best of choices, no."

"Leave me alone with your psychanalysis" Jooheon barely replied through gritted teeth, hating how that friend of his always managed to nibble right at the sensitive spot.

"We're just seeing that you're not… As okay with your decision as you've been when you had stories with no tomorrow up 'til now. And I think it's a shame that you're letting your doubts take the best of you like that, because Y/N really is a great girl and I swear she's really into you-" Kihyun started, but he got interrupted by Jooheon standing up roughly.

"I've had enough."

"Jooheon-ah, wait" Hyunwoo, the eldest of the group, got up on his feet as well in an attempt to prevent him from leaving.

"Aren't you supposed to be the ones to understand me and cut me some slack the most? You know how fucked up my mind is, you know how hard it is for me to find a solution to that blocking, you know ALL OF THAT! I've listened to you, I've tried to let myself go, but I just can't, okay?! See in what it resulted! I hurt a nice person, and I'm going crazy because I don't know why I can't make it work out this time as well!" he burst out and once he did, his eyes grew wide as a wave of guilt crashed against his head walls.

He regretted having taken his buried frustration at them. Hyunwoo took that opportunity to grab him by the nape as the boy's head had dropped in shame, before he presented under his nose the rest of the glass he hadn't finished but with a hint of whiskey he had poured in it, a gesture of comfort Jooheon had needed instead of the lecturing and review of his love-life.

"This time it's definitely different, you like her, and maybe that's why you're even more scared. But we just think this could actually be the way out of it, your attraction to her. If only you had hung to that a little bit more… Anyway, sorry, I didn't mean to anger or hurt you" Minhyuk stepped towards his buddy, giving him a brief hug, before he left to get himself a strong drink at the bar.

If only Jooheon was brave enough to hold onto the rope you had caught him with, yes. If only the fight with his mind was that simple, yes. If only he hadn't already forfeited, yes…

***

"You're dozing off, again" Jiwoo whispered from her seat facing you, her two eyes peeking at you over the thin panel between your two desks, and you blinked rapidly to bring yourself back to reality.

That poor, lonely, empty, reality you had been breathing in for three weeks now but that was suffocating you, as all the words you wished to tell him and all the ones you regretted having said were stuffed at the back of your throat.

So that was how it was supposed to feel, having bathed in the perfect world of soulmates only to drown in loneliness then harshly dry if it ever came to an end? You felt totally, inevitably, unbearably lifeless, your soul being trapped into the wonderful moment you had spent in his company but that you had a hard time labelling as a simple "good memory" now that everything was over. It was as if his lips on yours had taken all of your willpower to remain careful when it came to love, as you felt now tenfold worse than after your past breakups.

All of your usual imagination and enthusiasm had been swept away by your emotions that got the best of you, as Jooheon had stepped on the last thing that had implicitly kept you going with your life confidently after your previous heartbreaks : hope. You had hoped to find happiness in him, you had hoped that his smiles at you, his wish for you to stay, his sweet and deep kiss in the morning, his hands lingering around your frame as you had told him you had to go, his messages popping up on your screen afterwards, were the signs that you may have found some arms to engulf you ; but he had proven you wrong with his change of mind, or maybe, to your despair, his change of heart.

Once again, the power of feelings hadn't been enough for you to keep him by your side, for him to come to you fearlessly, for the both of you to enjoy the ride and see where it would take you, blindly. And because the law was a witch that had casted an awful spell on you, you got to experience the weighing sensation of melancholy as you couldn't help but think of him.

A raindrop would make you think of him, as the shape of his mouth made it seem as if he had a small one always hanging from his lower lip. The sound of a car passing by, as it reminded you of the numerous taxis you had tried to stop before you had decided to take yourselves home by feet. The dimples of one of your colleagues, as his were the cutest you had ever seen. The scent of beer or dumplings, as it was the first – and last – late night snack you had shared with him. The orange and red lights at a stop, as the strands of his hair were tinted between those very two colors.

Anything in your daily sight of banalities managed to link itself to a memory of Lee Jooheon, and every time, it was another sigh leaving your mouth. Funnily though, it somehow helped you to understand how hard it could be for him to move on from his ex and let his heart beat for anyone but her, as for now, you felt like you couldn't give yours to anyone but him, and that until a long long time.

He was your ideal type of man, and unfortunately, he had also made your heart flutter. He matched your dreams and the reality of your feelings, and it hurt, pretty badly. The bittersweet taste of what you barely could call a relationship dried your mouth that only craved for his to grace it all over again with sweet kisses and caresses of his tongue inside of its walls.

"Stop checking your messages" Jiwoo guessed as she spotted how your eyes were lingering down on something on your desk, and you almost whined as your lips formed a pout.

"Remember what the cards told me last week? That he probably would text me…" you retorted shamelessly.

"This application is bullshit and you know it, and it told you that he might think of sending you something, not that he would actually do it in the end" your colleague countered in a sigh.

"You remember quite well for someone who's so sceptic about astrology and so on…" you chuckled and she tsk-ed at you.

"It was funny because we were drunk" she admitted with a shrug, before regaining a stern composure. "More seriously, Y/N, I'm sorry to tell you this but it's been three weeks already… I know he's your ideal, but it doesn't mean he's the absolute perfect man you need for real, y'know? Life goes on, and as you've always told me, true love always wins! I'm just sad to see you still like this!"

You addressed her a smile as you saw how hard she was trying to reason you, but the you who had been so reasonable those past months, was long gone and replaced by a desperate girl in need for a romantic-comedy-like unfolding to happen in her life. In the movies, he would actually send you the message ; he would have been thinking of you in his bed until late late night ; he would have realized that he…

That he liked you. If he ever did.

Your heavy eyelids that supported a lazy gaze fluttered tiredly as you turned your head to the window showcasing a lining of buildings warmed up by the setting sun that hadn't fought with any cloud during the day, as if it was laughing at your gloomy state.

"Yes I'll send it to you next morning" a sweet but clear voice caught your attention from the other side of the room, and your heart did a small jump as you shifted in your seat to catch a sight of Yoo Kihyun entering the open space with a phone stuck between his ear and his shoulder, and his eyes suddenly fell on you, his face then breaking into the most welcoming of smiles.

You adored him. He was a hard working senior who was straight in his shoes, never failing at his tasks, always ready to help, always giving his opinion in the subtlest of ways, always supporting your projects ; he was kind of your mentor at work, while Jiwoo was your right arm, and if usually meeting with him every day was pure happiness, now you couldn't help but get strangled by the hands of questions about Jooheon every time Kihyun would look at you or talk to you. He was the most vivid yet most embarrassing of remaining links between you and your ideal, and for three weeks you had had to bite your lip so that you wouldn't blurt your wonderings to him out of nowhere.

How was he doing? Had he talked about you? Had he forgotten about you? Were you crazy to hope and wait for anything to happen, deep down?

The after-effects of the spell were definitely chewing on the lucid part of your brain.

"Don't distance yourself from me because of Lee Jooheon" the cause of your stomach's knots to tighten at work quietly told you as you were waiting for your coffee to be spilled by the machine near the blocks of desks.

"W-What?" you stuttered, surprised by his so-on-point remark. "I-I'm not, I’m not Kihyun, what does make you say that? It's fine between us!"

The latter chuckled, his eyes disappearing as his mouth curled up, and you would've bet that he could cook some eggs on your two cheeks that were steaming from the mortification he had put you in.

"You know you can talk to me about it, if you need to… I can see that it's been running on your mind" he offered in a soothing tone, and you both went to sit on the comfortable sofas located in what was supposed to be the rest area. "But please, don't be embarrassed with me!"

"How can I not be? He's your friend before anything else, and you are the first spectator of how ridiculous I'm being nowadays… I don't want to put you into a tricky position. It was one night, and it's over" you convinced yourself before sipping on your hot energizing drink, and Kihyun landed his face in the palm of his left hand, a fond smile spreading on his traits just for you to see.

"You're not as convincing when you talk about yourself as when you're selling our projects" he joked, and you faked a kick in his legs extended before yours. "You don't have to try to look all strong in front of me Y/N, I'm actually dating my own ideal and I know how devastating it feels if they ever turn away from you."

There was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes you had never seen before as Kihyun was either smiling, either completely unreadable at work, his face expressions only shifting from concentrated traits to joyful ones when he heard good news. But sadness? Never had you ever spotted him break in front of you in the few months you had spent together, and God knew how late you had stayed together in the building to finish your work, how drunk you had both been, how tired the job could make you.

"You weren't hers, as well?" you questioned before you could think of how intrusive this could sound.

"I am, but we took a break for a few months because the emotions and sensations were… Too much for her and for me to handle. We were quite passionate from the very beginning, so much that it could have torn us apart" he explained.

You nodded understandingly, your fingernails tapping an unknown beat on the small plastic cup in your cold hands.

"Now everything's fine, but just so you know that I've been through it, dreading the ideal one, so I get how you feel" he added, insisting on the last word with his eyes looking at you intently, as if they were also bearing the weight of it.

"Well at least you stopped dreading her because you were meant to be together anyway! Jooheon and I aren't as lucky, I just hope it won't take too long for me to move on" you smiled enviously at him before coating your lips with some hot coffee to mask how quickly the corners of your mouth had fallen down.

"You know, what's funny…" Kihyun trailed, passing his hand through his thick mop of brown hair that was graciously welcoming the last rays of sun seeping through the bay windows.

He bit back a chuckle when he caught how your eyes lightened up at the suspense he had voluntarily seamed between the both of you, finding you cute, and confirming his already steady opinion : Jooheon and you would be perfect together, if only…

"What's funny, is that Jooheon is supposed to be my friend first, so I should support him and respect his choices, but this time, I'm definitely on your side" he confessed, his eyes turning into crescents as his mouth supported a warm smile once more.

"Oh yes? And why's that?" you asked him with a dubitative expression as you leaned back into the comfy chair. "Glad to learn that you and I are not friends though…"

Kihyun's phone suddenly rang, and he held the screen towards you so that you could read the name of one of your collaborators, actually being the one you were going to work with on the next event.

"They have your personal number? Woooow you're so chic" you whispered with a faked astonished expression as he stood up quickly, chuckling at your remark.

"Let's talk about it around drinks tonight, I feel like going to the bar instead of finishing what I have to do" he smiled before exiting the relaxing room in pressed strides, and you could hear him getting back to his work-tone as he seriously said "Yes sir it's me, Yoo Kihyun".

Little did you know he was literally going to replace his blood by alcohol once night had fallen, and that you would follow him with just a few drinks late.

***

You were sitting at your favorite bar, that was located only three blocks away from your workplace. All of your team could never get enough of its cozy ambiance, with the dangling little garlands and lanterns hanging from the ceiling, the numerous tropical plants placed between the row of tables, and the exotic landscapes sketches or Maya-like sculptures fixed on the wooden walls, giving the overall feeling of having found shelter in the middle of a sublime jungle.

It had started as another classical end of day, Kihyun and you enjoying some delicious appetizers and tricky cocktails that were as tasty as threatening for your sanity, all the while talking about futile things and sharing funny stories. However, sooner than you would have imagined, you weren't clinking your half-empty glass with your favorite partner when you agreed on things anymore, because it had been already ten minutes since he was ranting about life and love with a jaded expression on his sharp traits.

He wasn't even looking at you, his lost eyes fixed on a wooden stick which used to support candies he had now planted in the glass in front of him, and he turned it again and again into the rest of his drink mixed with water from the cooling ice cubes.

"You know, when you date your ideal, you almost forget how it actually feels to love at first. I swear, the sensations you get almost turn into a drug, something you can never get enough of! You immediately love the person without even knowing him or her, and you're in such a bliss, in such an awe, that you can't even distinguish what your real emotions are anymore. It took me a break with my girlfriend to look back on what I feel, what I love in her, and to miss her but because my heart felt empty, not my entire self."

He sighed loudly before taking a sip from his striped straw, and seeing how he frowned and tilted his head, you knew he had more to say, which was so unlike him. It seemed as if your own situation with Jooheon affected him as well ; as if it had opened the doors to some secret yet deep thoughts that had been bugging his mind.

"When you're in a one-sided situation like yours, I feel like there's a lot to it. I think that it's also a perfect combination in its own way, because there's the power of soulmates, facing the one of true feelings. Two paths come across and merge into one : the one of the heart, and the one of fate, this is complementary" he then explained as his digits lightly traced the two lines in the palm of his left hand, and strangely, his words seemed to have cooled down the atmosphere around you as you felt chills run down your skin all of a sudden.

"I used to agree with you and believe in love more than in the soulmate-thing, but… You can't deny that nothing can beat the perfection of the romance between two individuals that were both bond by fate. It means they're made for each other, it's beautiful" you inquired, and unlike you whose heart now felt heavy in your itchy chest, Kihyun looked like he relaxed in his chair as it was his turn to speak again.

"But what sticks two soulmates together is also love, just like any other couple. What we actually feel might be stronger, but not purer. If I didn't love my girlfriend and if she didn't love me, our short break would have resulted in a break-up, for sure. That's the part of reality in this world of dreams and expectations. I wish Jooheon would understand that…" he breathed out as his gaze finally landed on you, an exasperated expression veiling his white face.

"Oh no, don't tell me he's back at it again" a rather high-toned voice spoke from behind you and your colleague's reddening cheeks spread into a contented smile, so you turned around in your seat to be met with five familiar figures, their sight making your heart drop down to your heels.

Before you had even recovered from the tornado of emotions this situation was putting you through, the boys you couldn't help but label as "Jooheon's friends" dragged some more chairs and tables to join Kihyun and you. To each beat of your weakened heart, one thought kept on ringing in your mind : every single boy sitting next to you, in front of you, across from you, knew Lee Jooheon better than you did even though the law made you feel otherwise. But what was harder to process, was they surely were aware of the things that had happened between the both of you, making you rot in embarrassment.

"What, what, what? I'm back at what, huh? You know you all agree, Jooheon doesn't realize how lucky he is! What he trusted in is right in front of our eyes, Y/N, who aspires to believe in love more than anything! He's not her ideal for nothing, it's because they would be perfect together, am I wrong?"

You swore that the weight of awkwardness and how the atmosphere had thickened were crushing you in your wooden chair, and all you did was agitating your head from the left to the right repeatedly while shooting him a pleading look so that he would stop playing the justiciary.

"Hey, you're lucky too you punk! Sorry Y/N, he tends to turn really sentimental once he's drunk… Anyway, we're here to save you from hell" the one you remembered as being named Hoseok smiled kindly at you, however it didn't chase your wish to disappear away.

"What are you saying, you're here because I texted you to come" Kihyun snorted with a sulky face.

He hadn't asked for your advice or assent before taking this questionable initiative, but you had noted from the mischievous smile he had sported on the way earlier that he had been exceptionally excited to go out, making you wonder if he had been up to something.

And he clearly had.

"I thought it would be nice for you to hang with some new people, to clear your mind a little" he then addressed you, and every single one of you – except for him– rolled your eyes at his stupid idea.

Clear your mind? While being surrounded by six faces that only reminded you of the one that was missing? Seriously?

What a nice idea he had had, bringing another set of pieces to the puzzle picturing Jooheon in your dizzy head, bringing dozens of questions burning the tip of your tongue, bringing discomfort as you were hanging with an important part of his life when he had chased you out of it.

"I texted the sad boy too, so that he realizes what he's missing, I can't leave him alone being all dumb like that" Kihyun then proudly announced, and you darted two big round eyes at him, your heart beating faster than it had since the night you had spent with the very sad boy he was talking about, as for three weeks it had been unmoved.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" you shouted along with the rest of the boys, your pupils then exchanging panicked-angry-incredulous glances.

"I'm leaving" you then precipitated yourself, your suddenly trembling hands gathering your things on the table and putting them back into your leather bag.

"Yoo Kihyun seriously what's wrong with you…" the tall one, Hyungwon, pestered him with a clenched jaw as he looked at you who were ready to stand all at once.

"He will be here in less than a minute, just stay and trust me Y/N, please" Kihyun begged and it triggered you.

"Why would you do that? It's just embarrassing for the both of us! I am respecting his decision, and so should you! Thank you for worrying about me, but don't interfere anymore, please!" your tone would have gotten close to the one of yelling, hadn't it been for your voice cracking as it was the prey of your fear to meet Jooheon's eyes again, to read discomfort and resent in them instead of the memory of their tenderness you cherished.

Just as you were about to finally get up, having put your fluffy puffer coat on as well as your beanie to confront the icy weather, the peal of small bells signaling the opening of the main door resounded over the music and the boys' voices telling you how sorry they were ; and you knew. You knew it was him who had just entered, because your body automatically reacted the second you dared to throw a look over your shoulder quickly, your eyes only perceiving a reddish mop of hair and a bright yellow padded jacket. Your hand was scorching and shining around the handle of your bag, and you cursed under your breath at the pain and at Kihyun who bit back a smile of victory.

He really could become sly and clueless at the same time once he was drunk, how come you had forgotten about that?

"Y/N, wait-" the latter tried to hold you back as you pushed your chair that screeched against the ground, but you walked past the table, your hurried strides supported by your trembling legs taking you towards some other exit at the opposite side of the room.

Your heavy heart had turned light, floating under your chest as a feather would do in some spring breeze, however the two drinks you had consumed and the trap your friend had pushed you right in made you overall feel sick, your stomach burning. Some fresh air was even more welcomed, yet you hadn't even taken that much steps when the most pleasant voice you would ever hear infiltered your buzzing eardrums :

"Y/N" Jooheon called you out calmly, and your feet immediately stumbled as you came to a full stop.

Shit.

You didn't want to look at him, you didn't want to see his face again, you didn't want to feel yourself sucked into the hole of sweltering feelings for him once more now that you had told yourself that your dreams wouldn't come true ; however you did, slowly turning on your heels, and you inevitably got consumed by the flames of whatever his presence did to you.

He looked utterly handsome even though he was doing nothing, just standing there and breathing. His hair was down, falling messily on his forehead, with a few strands kissing his eyelids ; still, it didn't occult the power his pupils could hold. His sharp eyes never failed to get the best of you, absorbing your willpower to leave and pinning your two feet to the ground, as contrary to what you had dreaded, there wasn't anything near embarrassment shining in them. They were simply gazing at you, two black orbs full of stars hooked on his sculpted-like face, and they didn't quaver when they met your unsure, humid ones.

"Let's talk outside for a minute" he invited out of the blue, and you blinked obliviously but your head nodded independently of your command.

You then waited for him to move closer behind you before exiting the bar, without saying a word, your throat strained and your mouth itching with the desire of kissing him right here, right now. Once you had landed a few steps outside, it took you a lot of courage to turn around again and face the cause of your happiness and sorrow, the sweet-and-sour mixture twisting your stomach where butterflies still were doing their usual job of messing with you.

"Hi" you tried with a small smile, shoving your hands inside your pockets so that you wouldn't lose your fingers.

Jooheon wished the fog that came out of his mouth as he breathed out had conveyed all of his messy thoughts to you, so that you could feel how torn you had left him for three weeks, so that you would help him sort things out, so that you would absorb them just like you had that Friday night, as he didn't even know what he was supposed to say to you right now ; he had just wished to see your face, selfishly, even if it was only for a short and bittersweet moment.

"How have you been doing?" he then asked randomly, the words falling from his plump lips he then bit in regret.

Your world was spinning twice faster now that it was revolving around Jooheon as its center of gravity again ; you could only see and hear him, your senses all gathered to focus on his person. Nevertheless, if three weeks ago the enchantment casted upon you had made you feel happy, this time, your encounter was crackling further your heart he had closed his doors to.

"Fine, and you?" you lied, so bad, yet you didn't want him to feel worse than you knew he already was, as even if you were distraught because you had failed in a relationship once more, you couldn't ignore the fact that Jooheon was suffering from his disappointment more than anything.

Your heart understood him through its aching, reason why your voice's tone had been sweet despite you, warming Jooheon's own bloody organ in the matter of a millisecond, warmth that spread inside his limbs and made him insensitive to the actual freezing weather. Some snowflakes had started to fall and were finding home in the free strands of your hair, and his burning left hand was weirdly craving to caress the white gown they were creating over your head until it'd disappear.

"Pretty fine too" his low voice vibrated through his chest, and another cloud of steam formed between your two faces, giving you the time to collect your expression so that he wouldn't notice how flustered you were.

"Anything you wished to tell me? Or else I'll get going I have a bus to catch in… 10 minutes" you insinuated that he had called you out for something precisely, and when his eyes fell down to the snowy pavement, you crumpled the insides of your pockets as the longer he was standing in front of you, the harder it was to fight the urge to assault him with questions and… Kisses?

The silence was weighty, and when Jooheon's pupils leveled up to yours once again, he noticed the thin line of water that was forming at the crease of your eyelids, killing him on the spot. Just like her, the sight of him was making you sad and uneasy, and he hated himself for that. Still what he despised more, was that he was putting you through the same thing that had eaten him alive the past months. He wished you had never met him and had simply fallen in love with some random guy, not being helplessly attracted to him because of a stupid law.

"I wanted to apologize on behalf of my friends, I can see you were quite embarrassed… They truly can be dumbasses sometimes, so sorry" he found the excuse on the spot, his improvisation impressing himself.

"Oh it's okay, they already apologized. It was Kihyun, he thought he was… Doing something good, I guess? He just doesn't get our situation" you brushed off as your brows had furrowed due to his surprising revelation.

"And I guess I wanted to check if you were okay" he suddenly admitted in a low yet steady tone that shook you to the core.

"Well you must know how it is, you've been through it" you sounded harsher than wanted, however, you couldn't blame your inner self for getting more and more sensitive while facing him.

You were right. Jooheon was more of a punition to you than anything else ; he knew it because he had lived in this empty feeling up 'til now. But couldn't he try to make you feel any better?

"Look, I'll take that as an opportunity to tell you face to face that I truly am sorry for what I did to you so… Yeah I'm sorry Y/N. I really wish you'll find someone good for you, you deserve it-"

"Jooheon, I told you I got you" you cut him, and the whisper of his name coming out of your freezing lips tranquilized its owner instantly. "Don't misunderstand what Kihyun just planned, I wasn't aware that you were coming either. I'm sorry but… Hearing you apologize and inducing that everything's over another time… Makes it kind of weird, I'm embarrassed right now."

You had become upset, as you had felt some kind of disappointment fall over you all of a sudden. Upset for having expected something to change with the time passing by ; for having felt the spark of excitement replacing your anger towards your colleague as soon as Jooheon had called your name ; for receiving his words like a good slap all over again when you had been supposed to let go and accept the reality of rejection three weeks ago already. Why did you keep on hoping?

You could already hear Jiwoo's voice scolding you with an "I told you!".

"Oh- I'm-"

"Don't" you smiled sadly. "Remember when she said sorry to you, did it make you feel any better?"

Jooheon's face contorted in displeasure and regret, and he passed a tensed left hand through his fluid hair, the locks enlightened by his shimmering red scar caressing them, and he cursed himself with thousands of insults inside his head. What had he been thinking?

"Someone told me that if your ideal leaves you, it means that you're not good for anyone else. So hearing you wishing me to find someone else… Kind of reminds me of this" you chuckled while looking away.

"Shit Y/N I'm so sor-… I didn't mean it that way, I just thought that apologizing to you face to face rather than behind a screen was at least more appropriate, because I know how it is to go through this so I was hoping to… Shit I don't know anymore" his words fell precipitately out of his mouth, and another wave of threatening tears accrued at the corner of your eyes.

"You don't have to feel guilty, okay? You should try to make yourself more comfortable with your choice, or else… Or else I'm gonna think that something's going on when there's not" you pursued with the same nervous laugh, your eyes dropping to your shoes as you nibbled at your lower lip. "So please… Don't worry, and don't be too harsh on yourself."

It had been as if you had read his inner emotions like they were scribbled on his face, finding what he couldn't point out in his mind then formulate, and soothing him with words to counter those insecurities. You never failed to find the right buttons to push at, and to his despair, you skimmed the one of his doubts, making his heart throb at the idea of taking risks that flashed through his mind.

"How come you're worrying about me when I'm the one who hurt you" he wondered aloud, before gasping as he heard his own voice that had betrayed him.

Because you cared for him. Because you could feel his pain now that he was near, your heart constricted under your ribcage the more you could read the guilt in his eyes that were begging for any sign of your forgiveness. Because apparently, the law left you no choice but to empathize with him no matter what he did, even if it included leaving you behind.

"I guess you know the answer since you experienced it too" you simply managed to answer before you would break into a sob. "I'll get going."

Something felt off in the way your exchange ended, Jooheon was even less at ease to part ways. He had apologized, to ensure that you would hear the sincerity of his excuses and to see you accept them ; but didn't it look like he had been looking for his inner peace rather than yours?

He could recognize himself in your reaction, as it had been the one he had adopted back when she had repeated the word "sorry" to him. However, he had been unable to hear the authenticity in her excuses as, just like you, all that remained was that you and him were being left behind no matter how guilty the one who was bidding goodbye felt.

But Jooheon didn't want you to experiment that loneliness, nor wanted the bright you to ostracize itself from everyday pleasures that would have brought a smile on your face before him ; so as your eyes were turning away from him as well as your figure, he spoke up :

"Why don't you stay?"

You faced him again and the unquavering look he conveyed to you made your heart jump up to your throat, yet ready to drop down at any second.

"What?"

"I said… Why don't you stay?" he reiterated, then gulped down his anticipation that had burned his rushed tongue.

You batted your eyelashes involuntarily as the incredulity galloped its way through your brain once you had processed his words.

"W-Why would I? Why would you want me to?"

"Because the guys are funny and nice, and because I liked it when we hanged together, it was cool" he simply stated, his brows going up on his forehead as he showcased a shrug.

"Is this a way for you to tell me we should be friends…?" you then asked ; however you weren't sure of how you would react if he ever came to say "yes".

"It is my way to tell you you shouldn't leave because of my stupid ass when you could spend a good evening with some dorks to make you laugh" he retorted.

His eyes were shining with expectation and maybe mischief, a cocktail that sparked some excitement in you and tickled your limbs to the point you almost returned him a warm smile as you could see how bad he was trying to make up for what he did – or thought he did – to you.

"At least you acknowledge the fact that you're stupid" you managed to joke, earning a shy chuckle from him. "Thanks but no, actually I'm pretty tired and I'm glad I escaped this situation with Kihyun because I would have had a short night, when tomorrow we need to finish some project…"

Jooheon's hand caressed his nape slowly as he nodded in understanding, and this time he was the one feeling the ache of disappointment when he probably shouldn't. Indeed, it was easier to let go behind a mobile phone's screen ; but now that this wall of fake-confidence wasn't there to help playing the cool ones, Jooheon felt like you could see how torn he was when you were supposed to believe that he was okay with his own decision.

"Alright…" his words trailed as well as his gaze on you, to the point you shivered as if you had been naked under the snow falling above your two dizzy heads.

You had found the courage to turn away a second time, when a last thought popped up in your mind, thought your tongue felt obliged to convey to him who had remained in his spot, watching you take a few steps away on the pavement.

"Oh and Jooheon" you spoke up with a small smile over your shoulder. "Just start practicing football again already. I saw you at the futsal on Kihyun's Instagram stories two days ago and you looked… Really happy. I think… That's actually the first step you need to take, y'know, to feel better with yourself, then maybe with life in general?"

These had been the only images and news you had had of him during the past three weeks, and you just had remembered how he had glowed with serenity and simple joy as he had been filmed kicking the ball with his friends. This was the Jooheon you wished for him to be, this was the bright version of him you thought deserved to be on full-time display, this was the self-love you wished he could give himself when you couldn't do it for him anymore.

"Thanks Y/N you're… Literally a good person like it's crazy."

But not good enough, once again, you thought.

"Comforting the guy who did you wrong and so on…" he breathed out.

You cared for him, so much that you hadn't been able to leave him on that awkward note, so much that your quavering heart felt at ease to see his lips draw a shy smile as he seemingly had been touched by your kind advice.

"Bye, then" you almost whispered to end up this conversation that could turn up to something too emotional in no time.

Another goodbye, less sour yet not that sweet as you both parted ways not as lovers, neither as friends, just as two hurt people who couldn't speak their hearts and minds up but only feel how confused they were. And if you were entangled invisibly to each other by the red string of fate, you still had to separate ways another time, and you finally turned your back on him. It was as if you were walking against the current, your whole soul pulled back to him who was looking at that beautiful silhouette he should let go of without regrets, his umpteenth sigh still not conveying his doubts to you.

***

Kihyun was looking at you from the corner of his half-closed eyes, and you were hesitating between smashing his head or simply laugh at his evidently dull state.

"I-I'm sorry…" he finally blurted out in a hushed voice, and the chuckle that had lurked deep inside your throat escaped despite you.

"About what? Your conspiracy that got me cornered and facing your friend in an embarrassing way, or the fact that you're a zombie on the day when you're supposed to be helping our team by being productive?"

You were waiting with your back against the wall in front of the meeting room, your files safely guarded under your crossed arms that covered your chest trembling due to stress. Your mind had to be at its best condition all day long so that at the end of this brainstorming, your Project manager would be satisfied and no more worried about one of the next huge events you had been offered to organize.

"I guess both, I messed up pretty badly…" Kihyun regretted as he pinched his nose bridge and you couldn't prevent your eyes from rolling up before they dropped on his pale figure.

"Oh yes you did, you moron" you sighed. "I hope your performing brain will help us as usual, or else if I die by the hands of the manager, you're dying with me."

Your team partner laughed tiredly before nodding, his briefcase held tight in his hand that was shivering as well, because of the little night he had spent and the anticipation getting on his nerves. While New Year's Eve was right around the corner, your team had already been picturing itself in the next decade. You had been assigned to draft an event destined to celebrate the merge of two small but successful companies – a Korean and a Chinese one. They had contacted you so you'd make them dream in the early spring of 2020, and the burden was real as the more time passed by, the more you were building a reputation, and the less you could allow yourselves to do any mistake.

The few instructions you had been given were that the clients were seeking for something fancy enough, and that they wished to invite all their employees so that they could get to know each other and learn to work together on good terms for the future. And those exact good terms, mainly depended on the successful night you would offer them as well as the few sponsors and investors who had been put on the guest list, so that they would never be able to forget about it but mostly be convinced to stick to a firm that treated them well.

Thankfully for you – and hungover Kihyun –, the meeting went well as you had been more prepared than you thought you would be in the midst of the confusion that plagued over your brain. So prepared, that the third idea you had come up with of renting a boat earned the votes and the trust of your Project Manager who complimented you on this plan you had worked hard on ever since the end of the National Federation of Football's party.

You finally looked back on how you had devoted yourself to work in order to forget about your heartache, and thanked your determined spirit as it had definitely paid off. This event truly had been your loophole to escape, only for a few hours within a day though, from your sickening thoughts about your love life.

"Oh right, about the staff we will need on the boat, I heard from the Korean firm that they have special recommendations they want to discuss with us about before we actually call our partners" Himchan informed you. "There are some people they worked with for previous events and who they trust so they'd like to have them on that night as well.

***

Three months-and-a-bit later.

You should have taken a closer look at the pile of folders containing the-said wanted workers your project manager had then handed to you that morning instead of leaving it on your desk to welcome some dust, because you would have been less appalled on the D-Day, as you were about to face your big clients.

Kihyun, Jiwoo and you quietly sat in the largest and fanciest of rooms in your building, organizing your ideas and files before the grand meeting. Like every single time even if you should have gotten used to it, your heart was ravaging your ribcage with great kicks of its own, and you felt hot as if you were in August under the sun of Madrid, and not in mid-March. Finally, the main door opened and Himchan entered with a reassuring smile pulling his traits, shortly followed by the two communication managers of the companies as well as their respective secretaries, a young woman and man.

You had exchanged a lot of e-mails and phone calls with the assistants during the past weeks, so you could say that you were pretty excited to finally get to talk to them without the barrier of a digital screen. The girl had been full of energy and had always asked if you needed help, reminding you of yourself in a way, while the male secretary had been quite formal but you had perceived a real kindness between the lines.

Yet, as soon as your eyes met the ones of the latter who translated the Chinese greeting of his chief for your knowledge, your left palm was set on fire, with the famous pleasuring pain that itched your skin and illuminated your… Heart-line.

You gave him a shy smile as you guessed he felt it too, the situation quite embarrassing when you were meeting at your workplace with all the eyes to see and a huge deal to conclude, however you observed with excitement the quick changing of expression on his face, his pupils suddenly darkening and pinning you to your chair, his lips parting slightly before he bit the lower one for a short moment, and his cheeks and ears reddening in no time.

Don't tell me…

He finally greeted you with a polite bow before taking place in the seat exactly facing yours, and you could read in his rushed attitude that he was flustered. While your team manager was delivering his speech, the guy started translating in real-time, mumbling the words while bending closely to his boss, who nodded and smiled as he progressively understood he was welcomed and thanked for having put his trust in your company.

You used his busy state as an opportunity to have a longer look at the figure of a new compatible man with you, and you could say you were quite flattered as the first word that came to mind to describe him was-

"Handsome. He's freaking handsome. You've been mailing this handsome guy, wow, your luck is real Y/N" Jiwoo whispered to your attention, quietly enough so you'd be the only one to hear that cringy remark and you nodded absent-mindedly, a smirk making its way to the corners of your mouth.

That handsome man was compatible with you, how lucky you were, indeed. He had chestnut blonde hair, slicked back and parted neatly with probably some wax, and his facial features were dangerously close to perfect. An angular nose, almond shaped eyes, thick and straight eyebrows, a peachy appealing mouth which covered an aligned dentition he finally showcased as he beamed at you once he had worded his name :

"Good morning, my name is Qian Jie, nice to meet you all."

"And I'm Jeon Jiwoo" your colleague pressed while passing a hand in her hair, and you had to sew your lips so that you wouldn't cackle before her childish behavior.

"I'm Y/L/N Y/N, nice to finally meet you too."

His eyes fell on your face once again and you were sure this time he was blushing, either because his grey turtleneck under his dark anthracite costume was too hot now that he wasn't braving the wind outside ; either because, just like you a month ago, he was staring at…

His ideal.

It was your turn to blush at this absurd idea and you shook your head from the left to the right to reason yourself ; the world was little, but this just couldn't be.

"I'm Jang Sora, I'm glad to meet you all as well, and to see you again, Kihyun" a feminine voice resounded in your ears and you finally paid attention to the woman secretary who was smiling at you then at your colleague who suddenly looked flustered.

"I'd never imagined we'd meet again under these circumstances" Kihyun nodded.

"You two know each other?" your manager asked enthusiastically.

The dark-haired girl chuckled, eyes with a single eyelid shining as if they had taken a ray of sun outside to illuminate them in a light brown, then she spoke up again :

"Yes, we happened to hang together a while ago, friends of friends!"

Kihyun was hanging his head low, and you could decipher how he forced a smile as he obviously was swimming under a sea of discomfort. Who was she to put the unwavering Yoo Kihyun in such a state? She definitely looked charismatic, young but surely experimented, just like what she had showed you through mails and voice calls as she started leading the discussion by relaying accurate and precise questions while her chief only came in to speak in the name of his own boss : what he liked, disliked, wanted, feared. They embodied a powerful business duet that got you talking to them with precautions and staying on your toes to be sure you were convincing enough and show them you hadn't been idle all this time.

On the other hand, your compatible match was still translating everything, would it be what you said or what his manager said, but what disturbed you more than his handsomeness and your burning hand was the fact that he kept on kissing your silhouette with his eyes. The few times you dared to support his gaze, you came across an unreadable expression, between warm and intense, something that gave you the chills as you were thrilled to be the one receiving such attention in a long time.

"About the workers, we sent you their profiles, did you receive them?" Sora asked while combing her bangs with a quick hand move, and you took the pile in your hands with a smile.

"They're right here, but we haven't contacted them yet as we wanted to confirm the place with you above all! Is there any priority between them, so that we know who to call first?" you looked her in the eyes and she nodded vigorously, accepting the files you slid on the table to her side.

"Let's see… Yes, there's those three, and… this one. They've worked with us for a few events and were well appreciated, we would like it if they were to be here again. They knew our directors' preferences in each area so they might be useful to you and the other staff you'd hire!"

Out of seven recommendations, she pushed four of them back to you fully opened, and when your eyes caught the sight of a familiar ID photography as if it was the only thing filling the white page resuming the professional experience, you almost gasped.

Lee Jooheon.

With a solemn face and short black hair, the boy of your dreams was watching you from his laid-down position, his sharp eyes, as diminished as they were in the small picture, still catching your breath and provoking exhilarating sensations in your body. The attention of your teammates diverted towards you as quickly as a finger snap, and you did your best to bottle your flustered state deep down in your twisted stomach as you had to remain professional and not let your personal matters mingle with your work ones. You couldn't object even if you wanted to ; but it burned your tongue and made your ears ring as the same thought kept banging in your head : Why? How? Why? How? WHY?

Somehow, you heard Kihyun shifting in his chair before the opened file of your ideal disappeared in his hands, and when you leveled up your pupils, you could read in the look Sora was giving your colleague that she particularly cared for this candidate.

"I'll contact this one" he informed as he lowered the papers for his eyes to shoot question marks at his interlocutor, who nodded in consideration.

_______

You knew the world was small, as in this very room, had been sitting a man compatible with you when he should have been just a business partner.

However, you didn't know yours would keep on spinning around Lee Jooheon for so long after that last encounter at the bar three months ago, or else you would have prepared yourself for this kind of coincidence to happen anytime. Or else, this situation wouldn't have felt as if Sora had taken a knife and rammed it over your wound all over again. Or else, you wouldn't have been that devastated right after the end of the meeting, completely forgetting about Jie as you were pacing round and round in the rest area, for Kihyun to watch.

Because while everyone in the room had been sharing his or her advice until they were satisfied with the terms of the negotiations, your mind had been half occupied by the task of making the link the between the care in Sora's eyes, the discomfort between her and your colleague, and the re-apparition of your soulmate. And the conclusion you had come to find was…

"That's her, right?" you barked at Kihyun who jolted in surprise at your little burst out. "That's his ex!"

"Lower your voice, they're still here!" he warned you. "And yes, she is" he then shrugged.

"You saw her name in the contracts, right? Why didn't you tell me?! This is so embarrassing!" you ruffled your hair and threw an accusing look at him.

How come the law, or maybe life in general, were so determined to mess up with you? Did they wish to see the vise tighten itself around you to the point it would feel like you definitely couldn't escape from this? Were you between the hands of a sadist pulling at the strings that would ridicule you the most?

"So what if she's his ex? What does it change? You would have refused to take part in the project? We are working here!" your colleague and friend answered, his tone inducing that he was a bit annoyed.

Yet, he marked a point and you grumbled in defeat, his face now showing he was completely unphased by your anger – angering you even more.

"This is so embarrassing Kihyun, I don't know where to hide myself right now" you then moaned while rubbing your blushing face with your panicked hands.

"Because you don't have to hide! I repeat : what if she's his ex?" Kihyun emphasized, less and less sure that he could follow your train of thoughts.

"What are you going to do with him?" you ignored his question because, well, you didn't have an answer to it.

The sigh that left his thin lips was so displeasing to hear.

"I'm gonna call him and propose him the offer, just like I am supposed to do" he explained in a calm tone, hoping it would help you to calm down too.

Your eyes came across his and even more than his sigh, his stern expression wasn't to your liking, at all. First his trap at the bar, now this secret information that could have helped you digest the whole thing better ; he might be the one wanting you to have a heart attack, in the end.

Your new year's resolution had been to move on from Lee Jooheon and to stop considering love as a priority for a while, and you had been doing quite fine up 'til now. Why? Because you hadn't seen his face ever since that night on the sidewalk, or more exactly, you had avoided it or anything that could remind you of him like some kind of bacteria. Posts of Kihyun on social medias? Muted, as well as his voice when he made the mistake to pronounce his name – one killing stare and that was it. The club he worked at? Banned from your options to have a funny night. The TV corner talking about football and his great return? You knew exactly its time slot depending on the day now. And positive thoughts? Always welcomed, as well as the flirting with some guys on dating apps or at your friends' parties. He had been doing well without you in the meantime, retrieving his old life, so why shouldn't you?

"Stop looking at me like that" you hissed through gritted teeth, wishing to smack Kihyun's confident expression out of his face.

"Like what? Like I'm hearing some bullshit coming out of your mouth? Sorry but that's actually the case so I can't help it" he then smiled cockily, and strangely enough, your cheeks tickled as he made you want to laugh at yourself as well.

You knew you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it. Why did it suddenly feel like the carefree attitude you had adopted was as fragile as a house of cards, ready to get whisked away by what you only saw as a storm coming right at you?

If every single effort you had put in forgetting about Lee Jooheon had paid off, then why were you panicking? The thought that maybe you had been more of an impostor than you'd like to admit was turning your blood cold.

"You're going to hide it from him too? And the fact that she actually recommended him?" you asked your partner while regaining your composure.

"So that's what's actually bugging you, I see…" Kihyun nodded, the smirk still present on his pale face.

"Of course it is!" your lingering care for him spoke for itself. "It means she's still interested in him, and if they meet again… If they meet again…"

You didn't want to imagine it. As much as you certainly didn't wish to see him at all, you needed even less to witness him shattering in front of his ex when she had already turned him into a mess. Or worse, to watch their romance bloom all over again if you ever had read her eyes rightly, and to feel uncomfortable, if not hurt.

"I don't want to see it, no thanks." you told yourself aloud, and to your surprise, Kihyun got what you meant with only those few words.

"You won't see it. You know why? Because the man she works for, the manager we saw earlier, is her ideal, and they're actually dating, she left Jooheon for this guy. She just has affection and surely pity for him. I'm sure she wants to see him again just to be sure he's doing fine because she cares about him in a way."

"Then did you think of him? Did you think of how hurt he'd be to see them together?" you pointed out his negligence that seemed to keep on revealing itself ever since his questionable choice back at the bar.

Kihyun chuckled at your worries and crossed his arms, looking at you tenderly this time.

"You sound pretty concerned for someone who's proclaimed herself as, I quote, "careless about boys" just a few days ago for the umpteenth time..."

"I-I'm just empathic, unlike you it seems" you scoffed with a shrug.

"I am always thinking of my brothers first. And what I am thinking nowadays about him, is that you resolve trauma by trauma. Trust me, Y/N, I was wrong at the bar last time, but right now, I know what I'm doing."

Every single pore of his skin, every single inch of his posture were screaming that he actually did know what he was doing, his confidence emanating from him like a glowing and powerful aura, so much that it chased the cloud of panic you had been struggling in away.

"You always have the last word, huh?" you sighed before it faded into a smile.

"That's why we always conclude contracts, I'm the best at convincing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make…" he crooned as he walked away with Jooheon's number and nickname displaying on his phone's screen, and you caressed your flushed cheeks before sighing again, the anticipation pressuring your lungs.

Suddenly – but not so surprisingly…– you wished to meet him again. Your shell had indeed been made of glass, as your inner voice was already whining that you wanted him to be there on that night. And bitterly, you realized that you had moved on, yes, but not far enough ; you had let go, yes, but not of everything.

You felt so upset to see that you had definitely been convincing yourself half-heartedly. But well, that colleague and supposedly friend of yours was definitely not helping.

"Y/N, you forgot your stuff in the room" Himchan informed you as he walked past the rest area, followed by the very ex and her actual boyfriend you bowed to.

You sprinted towards the meeting room, hoping it would be empty so that you could groan loudly once and for all to evacuate the weight of distress crashing your ribcage. She was so pretty, so well-mannered, so determined, so professional, so feminine, that it made you feel like a naked worm who just deserved to be left alone in the dirt, and nowhere near the blooming flower she was. You were no competition for her, and she was the perfection Jooheon deserved according to the law ; how come you had expected anything?

Some unwelcomed tears came to play with your eyelids, as if your body was laughing at you by trying to make you properly pitiful. Three months had gone by, but your stomach still twisted at the sight of his picture? REALLY?

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N?" a voice as soft as velvet smoothed your eardrums that had been buzzing for the last two minutes, and you looked back to thank with your eyes the one who had prevented you from becoming deaf and suffering from a harsh headache.

And that very person happened to be the one whose way of ending your sentences and picturing your ideas as if you had drawn them yourself in his mind had petrified you in the same meeting room earlier, and now just his gaze did in the corridor as he smiled broadly before approaching your shaken figure.

Jie truly was handsome and beyond chic, making him intimidating but not in a negative way, just one that made you respect and admire him without even knowing him inside-out. He could be compared to the handsome main character in a manga before whom the girl – and the reader as well – was losing the strength in her limbs.

"I wished to ask you earlier but you disappeared quite quickly… Would you like to meet tomorrow night for a team gathering, with your colleagues? We've been working together for a while now but we haven't been able to talk properly without a working context, I thought it would be nice for our teams to get to know each other in a friendly manner" he offered, to your great surprise.

The idea was not so bad, and you knew that when it came to going out for a drink, your teammates were always the first ones to respond positively.

"Oh yes, that's a great initiative! Thanks for proposing!" you smiled, and realized that you felt more at ease ever since he was facing you, as if the air around you was fresh and clean, not thick and overpowering.

He seemed to relax as he heard your answer, then he took in a sharp breath before asking :

"Then… Can I have your personal number? I only have the one from your office… So that I can tell you the time and address?"

Bold move. Had he been anyone else, you would have not seen anything else than a professional and nice proposition ; however, something in your guts was telling you there was more to it. From the way his eyes were always so dark and sparkly when they crossed your stare, from the way he smiled confidently but his cheeks were flushed, from the way he had dared to stand so close to you… You could recognize your own flirty behavior from the night at the club when you had met Jooheon, and as scared as you were to admit it, you were 97% sure that you were his ideal one.

The question was : was it fate that you had crossed paths? And if yes, should you give it a try? This man had no choice but to like you and wish to stay by your side, or at least the chances were slimmer for him to leave like every man before him had, however… However, why did you feel like you were cheating on Jooheon as you grasped his phone between your shy fingers to type your number, when the guy was supposed to be nothing but a souvenir you should free yourself of?

Jie happily took the device back and shoved it into his blazer's pocket, and after one last long glance at your traits, he left to look for his boss. Unbeknownst to you who had still read the other signs, his heart was pounding under his chest and his head was busy thinking of you until the next day when you were about to meet again.

***

Qian Jie [11:15 a.m.] : Hello Y/N, this is Jie. I hope you had a great morning. I'm texting you to send the address and time as agreed. Here is the map with the location. Let's say we should meet at 8.30 p.m., is that okay with you? 😊

You were the last one to show up at the fancy dining bar, which was already full of university students, co-workers, friends on a hangout or even loners, all sitting around barbecue plates grilling fresh meat and vegetables. The scent of alcohol and food stimulated your buds and your mouth watered as you wandered between the tables, looking for familiar faces.

And the familiar face you finally spotted was the one of a blonde man smiling while grilling some piece of what you guessed was beef, and as if he had sensed you coming, Jie immediately leveled up his eyes to meet yours. Your left hand heated up in no time, but less than your cheeks as you could clearly read in his stare that he was finding you… Pretty. His pupils scanned your silhouette quickly from head to toes, before he came right back at your face and his cheekbones reddened a bit as he finally gave you the biggest of smiles.

He pressed himself to move his things that had been displayed on the seat next to him, and he then silently motioned you to come and take the place he had just arranged. Had he done it on purpose? Probably. Did you find it cute? Maybe. Noticing his agitated and excited state, everyone at the table finally turned around or stopped looking at their phones to acknowledge you, and your colleagues all exclaimed :

"Y/N! Finally!"

"What took you so long?" Jiwoo, who was sitting at the far end of the table – and consequently at the opposite of the seat you were supposed to take at Jie's side – asked you with a sly smile, as during the day, you had finally confessed to her who you thought that handsome man was to you, or more accurately, who you were to him.

You had been quite embarrassed to tell her as you knew she had found him pretty attractive, but Jiwoo never ceased to surprise you with her cheerful state which never betrayed an ounce of jealousy. Surprised you as well, because if she was then sitting far away from Jie, she seemed to have found another target in the teammates from Sora's company. Indeed, each secretary had brought their coworkers responsible of the communication about the event or supposed to help you, your group then occupying at least three tables.

What had taken you so long, had been firstly the tasks you had wished to finish before leaving the building, and also your hard time choosing your outfit. In a way, you had wished to look pretty, but it wasn't exactly because of Jie's presence ; it was more because you were utterly conscious of Sora's. You had dreaded all day long to meet her – and her boyfriend – again, as you felt intimidated and embarrassed to be working with Jooheon's ex. That very ex whom he couldn't get over, and who, in a way, had deprived you of a relationship you had been dreaming of for so long.

You had then opted for a corduroy camel dress with large straps, wore over an oversized shirt, as well as comfortable boots and your favorite jacket. You considered you were right at the middle between casual and feminine ; at least, you felt pretty enough to finally take a seat next to Jie whose masculine yet fresh cologne hit you more than the smell of meat.

"Forgive me, I had to finish up a few things, the company's closed for three days in a row so I won't be able to work" you explained to Jiwoo and the rest of your team after everyone at the table had introduced themselves, and Kihyun chuckled at your remark.

"I hope you're going to take a break for the week-end and not think of work" he then inquired as he poured you some beer.

"You have a long week-end? How lucky of you!" Sora suddenly exclaimed with her hands clasping, making her boyf-… Her boss, laugh before his lips touched his glass.

God, it was painted all over his face ; he just loved her. His eyes were bearing an enamored spark as they landed on her, his long lashes giving them something so tender you felt chills on your arms just by watching.

You secretly wished someone – Lee Jooheon – would look at you like that. Oh but, Lee Jooheon had probably looked at her like that back in their days. Lucky her.

Before you could slap yourself to get out of your pitiful thoughts and way too envious state so that you could actually enjoy your night, Jie's smooth voice resounded in your eardrums :

"You want some?" he asked while holding a piece of meat between the pliers in his left hand, and you finally saw it.

Shining so brightly, looking more vivid than the heating charcoal under the barbecue plate in front of him, his life-line was lightened for you to see. You had been right : you were his ideal. You couldn't do anything except for nodding as this revelation and his two dark eyes boring into yours caught you off guard.

Was that him actually looking at you lovingly, like that, as you had just wished?

"Let me make you a wrap then" he smiled as he turned away from you to work on his preparation.

Your eyes dropped on his veiny forearms that were revealed as he had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to his elbows, before they dared to spy his profile. It was neat, as if sculpted in marble, as if borrowed from a manhwa. His hair looked wet on purpose and were combed back with the same hairstyle as the day before, yet a few strands were falling before his forehead, probably having lost the battle against the breeze outside. Was it because you felt lonely that you suddenly found him really attractive? Probably, because your heartbeat hadn't changed. However, at the thought that you were the girl of this man's fantasies, waves of heat came crashing against your skin and you bit your lip.

Was it a coincidence that he showed up now, or a sign that your heart should give a chance for another man to take it?

As Jie handed the piece of meat and lettuce neatly folded to you, you felt in his eyes that he was conveying a bit of his emotions at the same time, as something really sweltering was sparkling in them and lit up a tiny flame down your stomach. That man was so elegant and charming, and he dreamed to be with someone like you.

But that elegance and charm weren't the only great things you could list to describe him. As the dinner went on, you did your best to turn a blind eye on Sora's presence at the table and ended up chatting with Jie and his colleagues, whom you discovered were all good at Korean or English, and pretty nice. But Jie was always the nicest, the gentlest, the smartest, the fiercest of them all, at least in your eyes as you stared at him shamelessly.

He had dimples, just like Jooheon, but you quickly came to the conclusion that it was the only thing the two men had in common, probably explaining why the little light Jie's eyes had turned on inside you had soon been eaten by the remaining feelings Jooheon apparently still put you through just at the thought of him.

Jie was reserved, calm, hard-working. You came to understand that he was at least two years older than you, making you somehow shy and impressed. And you could read, in the eyes of his co-workers that gradually were turning red because of the soju you were sharing, that they all had a huge respect and admiration for him.

He was the perfect businessman every team would wish to work with : a good listener and an opportunity giver as he always asked about the quiet ones' opinions ; a responsible and wary person as he warned a teammate about how he should stop drinking because he had to meet his wife back home ; a polite mediator when he sensed that someone's remark could offend others, starting to calmly show to that person how rude he or she had been, or explaining his or her words so that everyone felt equally understood and not attacked.

And even though he didn't look like it, he was a funny guy. A timid one, but his jokes and his lovely smiles never failed to spread the happiness on the rest of the table's faces. He looked icy on the outside, having the silhouette of the serious secretary tightly gripped in his suit and shoes ; however, with how he remembered everyone's preferences when cooking the meat – including yours –, you could see that he was very warm.

On top of that, you truly felt how the law had made you a match to him, as he always seemed to complete your trail of thoughts, opening your eyes to another view you hadn't seen yet ; as he sensed when you didn't wish to drink anymore, stopping his teammates when they insisted to pour you a glass ; as he looked like he was eager to hear anything coming from your mouth, generously complimenting you for what you had achieved but without ever crossing the line where it would be too much.

Qian Jie was undeniably a sweet, sweet man, a man who embodied the perfect groom every mom would wish for her daughter to join at the end of the aisle ; nevertheless, objective perfection wasn't yours, and so the law was telling you.

Because, sadly for him, you couldn't help but compare his traits to your own ideal once you had drunk and eaten enough to do it without feeling your stomach knot.

It wasn't that Jooheon couldn't fit with the words warm, calm, or caring ; it just wasn't the same. Jooheon was more mischievous, more spontaneous and care-free when it came to talk about life stuff. On the few Instagram stories Kihyun had shared, you had seen him lose his temper during the futsal, or laugh and shout like a dork when he scored a goal. During the time you had spent chit-chatting with him at the bar or texting him afterwards, you had been attracted to his mysterious side, but his bubbly one had drawn you to him even more. It was that very spark that you liked, that insouciant charm he had, which certainly had been distraught by Sora but still managed to manifest itself from behind the walls Jooheon had built.

Just like his hair, Jooheon was fire, when Jie was water. The first one was full of passionate feelings to express, so much that he was about to break, so much that he was impulsive just like he had been that night with you ; when the latter seemed to prefer the smoothest of ways, always putting much thought in his actions and wordings, even in a situation where he had alcohol thickening his blood and was supposedly struck by the powers of the law.

You then wondered : what was the law's message to you? How come your ideal was fire, when you were supposed to suit water? Was it that you should trouble Jie's flow of life and make it more exciting and wilder, or that you should've canalized the flames so that Jooheon wouldn't burn himself anymore?

______

"Let's play a game! Girls versus boys, c'mon!" Changmin, the guy from your team who was the same age as yours, suddenly shouted, with his rosy cheeks inducing that he had swallowed a lot of booze.

You all agreed cheerfully and started exchanging seats, and in all the haste you accidentally ended up next to Sora, realizing then that you were going to get paired with her. She smiled at you immediately, and you wished she had been less beautiful, less kind, less lovely as she started a conversation with you while the boys were still struggling to understand the game's rules. Just as Jie and Jooheon were a world apart from each other, you felt diminished next to her, crumbling under the pile of differences you were spotting between the both of you.

You compared yourself again and again, as she shared with you her story about how she managed to climb up the ladder in her company at such a young age, as she envied your imagination but had the audacity and business-logic you lacked in, as she was so damn adorable that you could understand why Jooheon's heart hadn't turned to you at once. And if you couldn't see any flaws in him plausibly because the law was blinding you, this time you had your eyes fully opened as you watched and beamed at her, yet you couldn't pinpoint any flaws in her as well. You then imagined how hard it must be to fall out of love with someone like her, and how hard Jooheon must believe that he would never find better .

"Hello? Oh hey Jooheon!" Kihyun suddenly shouted over the ambient noise and his eyes instantly narrowed at you, a sickening smile twisting the corners of that filthy mouth of his.

You looked back at him as your body tensed up ; your ears did their best to catch the slightest word from this conversation ; your hands crumpled the napkin on your lap ; and your heart simply stopped beating as it had ascended up to your throat.

"Really? You're not kidding? You're taking the job?!" he exclaimed loud enough for you to hear. "Aaaaah you thought well my son, I can't wait to be your boss! You should be nice to me or I'll reduce your pay… Anyway good choice mate! Where I am? I'm out drinking and eating with Y/N and other colleagues!"

The way he insisted on your name punched an iron fist into your chest, which grabbed your bloody organ and pulled it down your throat to your stomach. Sora was right next to you and you could bet that she was listening too. What was he doing, putting on a show, all the while staring at you?!

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, you cursed him through squinted eyes, and when you turned your attention back to your game partner, she was looking at you with surprisingly fond eyes.

However, she didn't say a word and simply grabbed your hands gently as Changmin told you to do so, and the game began, with a lot of laughter, too much mistakes and shouts, and thankfully, it stole your time to realize that you definitely were going to meet him again under those weird circumstances. Changmin sounded like he was full of crazy ideas tonight, as he shouted again, with his high-pitched voice :

"Let's go to the Golden Tiger! We're regulars there, we'll have some discounts! I like all of you so I want to treat you all with the company card!"

You suddenly felt as if you were going under a high fever, chills sliding down your skin while your head started spinning. Why that club, out of all the others? There were plenty of party sites in Seoul, why would he think of the one Jooheon works in? There were too much of coincidences in a short time, too much for you at least.

"I think I'll go home" you shyly muttered after a few seconds of zoning out and you stood up clumsily, hoping to escape as you knew your coworkers could turn into sharp traps clenching your ankle and preventing you to flee the scene.

You obviously knew that going down there was going to result in you losing your reason as you were completely disturbed by the love triangle you were tangled in. You would end up doing crazy things to evacuate all your stress, such as such as going to Jooheon's counter and bawl your eyes out before him because you felt empty and way too emotional after having spent the night with his ex. With that very ex to watch and him only paying attention to her and not to your ridiculous state, on top of that. This scenario was close to the one of a nightmare, and it was definitely a no-no.

You spanned the bench you had been seating on and everyone followed your lead, thinking you were pressed to go clubbing when you actually just couldn't stay in place and wished to run away as fast as you could. Once outside, your heels were bouncing slightly on the pavement, as you clutched your phone against your heart while the rest of the group was busy paying for your food, going to the restroom or trying to light a cigarette in spite of the breeze. Then, as you were about to bid them goodbye, Sora's voice was suddenly heard delivering the same excuse as yours, but with an alibi no one could question :

"I think we'll go home, that mister obviously can't follow" she struggled to say with a smile as she had the arm of her boyfriend hooked around her neck, his legs apparently giving up on him and making him completely lean on her, with his head down.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jiwoo threw darts at you with her eyes as she could guess from your moving figure that you were impatiently waiting for the moment to slip away.

"I'm-"

"Y/N, can I have a word with you for a second?" Sora suddenly called you out behind your back as she tossed her boss's body over to one of their colleagues who whined at how heavy he was.

Cold sweat ran down your spine and you gulped, your body always suffering from high tension whenever your eyes met hers.

"What is it?" you asked her after having taken a few steps away with her at your side, your tongue heavy and your cheeks completely flushed.

Even though the fresh air was stimulating your senses, they were quite altered by the effects of alcohol. You hadn't drunk that much, yet you had barely managed to stuff something to eat down your throat, too immersed into Jie's doings next to you, when you hadn't been thinking about Jooheon.

Through your half-closed eyelids, you could still see that the young woman was somehow hesitant, swaying from one foot to another and her fingers fiddling with each other. She bit her lip as she looked up at you, before grabbing your shoulders.

"Look… I'm sorry but I can't help saying what's been on my mind… I think… You know me" she started with a smile, and your tension suddenly went up to its limit, making you dizzier than you already were. "Or should I say, you know Jooheon, and through him… You know who I was to him. I read it in your eyes on the day of the meeting, and I read it on your face tonight, when he called."

You felt so ashamed that you wished a black hole could suck you up in an instant far away from her grasp and her eyes still looking at you caringly.

"I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to feel uncomfortable with me around! We are working together and he'll be there on the ship. To be honest, I wished Jooheon could meet someone after me who made him realize I wasn't the best for him, and if that's you- Oh my god sorry this sounds weird" she pressed her words. "I just think you're such a cool girl, Y/N. I haven't seen Kihyun trying so obviously hard in a while, he wouldn't if he didn't think you were too! I hope you two last long!"

_______

"What's going on between them?" Kihyun asked as his eyes fell on his friend's ex and you, the concern clear in his voice as he had just stepped out of the dining bar.

"I don't know, but Y/N wants to leave" Jiwoo grumbled before shivering as a whirlwind shrouded her body and messed with her light blonde hair.

"Ah…" your colleague sighed before taking his phone out to answer to his last message.

Kihyun [11:30 p.m.] : Dude, we're going to your club, is there a free table for the twelve of us?

My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : TWELVE?

My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : I'll see what I can do, but you better pay the bill tonight not like the last time, I'll never be nice to you again

My kid Jooheon [11:36 p.m.] : AND STOP TEXTING ME WHEN I'M AT WORK FFS

Kihyun [11:38 p.m.] : Well you're answering anyways, thanks I love yooooou

My kid Jooheon [11:39 p.m.] : Y/N's coming?

Kihyun [11:45 p.m.] : Oh, weird question isn't it, you never ask abt her

Kihyun [11:45 p.m.] : But I don't think so man

My kid Jooheon [11:46 p.m.] : Ah… I hope that's not because of me, I don't want her to miss a great night like she did last time at the bar

Kihyun [11:46 p.m.] : You're still thinking of this? Shit I guess I really messed up that time wow

[Unread message] Jooheon [11:46 p.m.] : Oh really no kidding

Kihyun [11:48 p.m.] : She's a bit drunk right now so I just think she's tired

Kihyun was lying, because he was well aware of your reasons without you wording it to him ; however, he couldn't make his friend feel worse than he already was.

My kid Jooheon [11:49 p.m.] : Someone's taking her home, right?

Kihyun [11:49 p.m.] : I don't know, she's about to leave now

My kid Jooheon [11:50 p.m.] : Ok…

My kid Jooheon [11:50 p.m.] : I know it's awkward of me to ask but… Just don't let her walk home alone, please

______

"I got rejected" you had managed to reply to Sora in the meantime.

Her rant had killed you on the spot, her kindness completely fired up with alcohol and drifting to something close to indiscretion without her wanting it to. You knew her words weren't meant to hurt you, but it still did.

She was so desperate to have Jooheon moving on, to lessen the burden on her shoulders, the weight of the pain she had caused obviously still tormenting her. Just like him trying with you, she was seeking for a way to his happiness on his behalf, but in your eyes, it was mainly in order to make up for her guilt.

"Y/N!" Kihyun suddenly ran up the pavement to you, pushing discretely his phone in his pocket as he wished to keep his last conversation a complete secret and try to execute his "mission".

"Yes?" you threw a jaded stare at him.

You didn't have the strength to deal with two people wishing for a relationship between Jooheon and you to happen when you knew better than them that the latter didn't want to see it bloom to begin with. You were too tired to prove them wrong and fight against their concerns that were anything but touching at this point. Your lower lip started to tremble as you gave Kihyun a pleading, defeated look ; you were on the verge of breaking into a set of tears as you wished for nothing except for you to be safe and sound in your apartment, falling asleep so that this long night would be put to an end and another day would come quicker. A day where you'd be back to your strong-self dealing amazingly with her feelings and her everyday life without romance like she had promised herself to do.

"Y/N, let's go" Jie suddenly told you from his position a few feet away, saving you from hell as if he had heard your secret prayers, as if he was the only one to get the distress you were drowning in. "I'm not going to the club either, so I shall come with you. C'mon, I'll take you home."

The second your stare came across his and his reassuring tone caressed your eardrums, some salty, hot, tickling water definitely accrued at the crease of your eyelids. That kind man down there had fulfilled your needs without you even asking for it. He would certainly work for your happiness, and he was probably already fond of you and could be for a long time if you'd just let him ; still, the warm smile he addressed you wasn't enough to falter the misery the name "Jooheon" had pushed you in all over again. Nothing could ever make up for it, no one could fill up the void in your heart, except for Jooheon himself. However, he wouldn't. And to realize that, after three months of persuasion, was eating you alive.

Kihyun [11:55 p.m.] : She's leaving now, with a man from the company we'll be working for…

***

You couldn't clearly picture the way back home with Jie when you woke up the next morning with your head wheezing painfully, and you never tried to recall it afterwards as you spent your long weekend reconciliating with the fighting spirit you had sported 'til the past two days. You just knew you had walked for a while and felt a hint of his touch on your shoulders as he had covered them with his coat. You could picture yourself hopping in a taxi, yet you couldn't remember if you had talked, fallen asleep, or maybe cried in front of him ; neither did you know how you had managed to enter your flat and find your way to bed.

Qian Jie [10:06 a.m.] : Are you alright?

This lone message had put a smile on your dry lips, and your heavy fingers had managed to type a "yes, thank you for asking and taking me home yesterday" even though the room had seemed to be turning around your body, not helping to focus. You hadn't drunk that much to the point of enduring a blackout and such a harsh hangover, but you could guess that it simply were your brain and body that refused to cooperate after they had been plunged into the swamp of your negative emotions all over again.

However, you took the signs into account and instead of burying your emotions deep down as the tsunami they turned into once triggered wasn't welcomed, you accepted the fact that you were damned to like Lee Jooheon for a longer while. You hadn't been able to force your feelings out no matter how hard you had tried, then only being nicer to yourself could lift the weight of misery off your shoulders and help you not to falter at the sound of his name next time.

Meanwhile, you allowed yourself to chat with Jie sometimes for work, sometimes casually as he managed to push the conversation over event-related things. Of course you liked talking to him, as your mind was somehow destined to clink with his more than with the rest of men in this world, and obviously Jie seemed to be falling for you as you deciphered the sweet tone in his voice every time he would call you to check on – futile – things. And if his feelings were still one-sided for now, you gave your heart a break by stopping the overthinking and just enjoying your little excitement ; maybe you'd turn the page too before you'd know it…?

However, the day you had to see Jooheon's face again came sooner than you had expected, because right after you had come back to work, your team manager had had the wonderful idea to plan a briefing reunion between your team and the staff you had hired for the food making, the service, the animation or the music, were they independent workers or specialized companies which would then send a representant. You would explain what you expected from them, what was the theme, what were the rules, what would be the organization, all of this around a small buffet.

Himchan had thought that it would be a more humane and clearer way than communicating by mail or phone, and if you couldn't deny, your nervous heart didn't thank him on the D-Day while you were waiting in your company's hall to greet the convoked people. Of course, Jooheon wouldn't be represented as he had been especially recommended ; so of course, instead of having the information relayed to him by someone else, he was going to hear it from your mouth directly, your very mouth that still itched at the thought of your kiss ; and of course, Kihyun had ensured you with a smirk that his friend had confirmed his presence. How professional of him. What confused you above it all, was that you couldn't decipher the reason why he would still accept this job, when he was back in the football game…

______

The clock was ticking on the watch enclosing his left wrist, and Jooheon found himself unable to walk through the glass doors of the huge building without having the fear that his heart would burst like a firework. Once again, his body was strangely stimulated by some flashes of thoughts he had of you every once in a while, and that never missed to make him feel edgy. Had he really made the right choice, wouldn't his mind had let go of the memories just like ashes evaporating in the air by now?

He hated how indiscreet his eyes had been these past months, lurking at Kihyun's phone's screen whenever he was sliding through his feed on Instagram, hoping he'd get to see a picture of you smiling and being – at least apparently – well. Because he, had been doing pretty well. Much better, to be precise.

Just like you had suggested him to, he had finally gathered the sufficient courage to confront his second biggest fear, football, as he couldn't stand the feeling of being such a loser and scaredy-cat anymore. Stopping to live like that had somehow been his way to cope with what he had done to you. He had then met with his coach after a long time of ignoring his calls, who had gladly welcomed him and re-offered his help to train him all over again, as well as his teammates who were happy to get their brother back in the family.

And as he had finally felt alive on the track field after a long time of wandering like a lost soul between his home and the club, his thankful heart and mind had only been craving to tell you how right you had been. In the end, without even being by his side anymore, you still had been the wind pushing him across the paths of challenges but happiness as well, would it be that night or right now, and Jooheon could never forget how this quick passage of yours had marked him for life. You had tamed the fire within him, reason why the ashes were still around…

His sharp eyes had barely caught the sight of you chatting with Kihyun and whom he guessed were other colleagues behind the windows, that his stomach twisted itself just like his mother used to twist their drenched laundry.

"Lee Jooheon, we need to go, they're waiting" a dismayed voice called him out.

His agent was standing in front of the doors, his expression clearly inducing how impatient and upset he was starting to feel before his childish behavior.

"Why'd you come anyway? It's embarrassing, I don’t need you for personal affairs like these" the younger boy grumbled while pushing his hands into the pockets of his black trousers.

"The coach told me to see for myself how much of an important meeting you were attending for you to miss a training day" the man smiled sarcastically.

"Ah-a! I regret going back to him, I didn't know he'd be that clingy and wouldn't trust me ever again!" Jooheon scoffed, earning some time.

"It's not that he doesn't trust you, he's just scared that he'll lose you anytime, you're still his precious gem you know, the future of his club, the son he had lost for a while, his-"

"Oh no stop it please, this is cringy" Jooheon frowned while covering his ears, even if he still heard the laugh of his agent which drastically stopped as he pushed the door open.

"Come on. Let's go" he ordered with a straight face.

"I really didn't miss you, not once" the footballer sighed.

This man, Mr. Seo, a father of two kids and a devoted husband, had always been there for him, even when he had cut ties with everyone. He had kept on sending diet food and side dishes to his place after the injury, just like had been doing back when Jooheon was training under his protection, with encouraging notes telling him to take his time but to come back. Unfortunately for him, Jooheon had only felt more guilty and unworthy at the sight of these pure displays of affection he couldn't pay back, instead of getting cheered up.

Your stares met as soon as Jooheon made his entry, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl themselves up to offer you a shy smile, his suffering stomach immediately untying so that it would welcome the fluttering sensation of sparks tingling its walls. Yet you didn't smile back, or more accurately, not at him but at someone coming from behind him as your eyes quickly left his. They indeed followed a man who strode past Jooheon's manager, wearing a dark brown suit and with a neat hairstyle, his blonde hair color seeming to be the one of his birth and not the result of bleaching the locks a few times. The man came to stand next to you, and as Jooheon was concentrating to distinguish your voice over the lots of blabbering around him in the hall, Kihyun called him out :

"Lee Jooheon! Oh hello Mr. Seo! Finally, I was about to call you!" his friend smiled, obviously having said it loud enough so that everyone would admire the latecomer.

All the faces turned to him as they heard the familiar name, belonging to a "football player who has made his comeback to the infamous club in Seoul and is preparing all over again to enter the national team in the near future". Or so the medias were saying, in such a dramatical way. As much as he hated being the center of attention, his coach had been going out and about his "great return" as well as his teammates on their social accounts – they were proud, but way too proud. Jooheon hissed discretely, noticing embarrassingly that a girl from the group was already gazing at him quite intently, but what embarrassed him the most was his brain that told him he would have liked to catch your attention instead.

However, you were still discussing with the suited man whose head was quite close to yours, showing him something on sheets you were arranging for him and nodding back at him, before you cleared your throat :

"Welcome everyone, and thank you for coming. Please follow us to the first floor where our team manager is waiting for you" you announced.

"Wow she's young" Jooheon heard a man whisper.

"And pretty hot" another muttered back before they giggled together.

The sparks in Jooheon's body suddenly lit up a flame that was about to blow up into a raging fire if he ever heard another comment coming from their dirty mouths. He hadn't known he would be that sensitive to see you again today, and if he had, he would have gladly stayed in bed this early morning. Everything was wrong about the way he was feeling right now, about how he was craving for your attention, about how he was nervous to be around you, when you seemed to be so calm – with that man standing at your side and smiling at you and you smiling back at him and him letting you enter the lift first as a true gentleman even if his hand on your back was a tad too much.

It was as if the situation was pushing him into a corner of discomfort the more he had your silhouette, which was lovely more than pretty hot, in his sight, that very silhouette he had refused to hold in his arms exclusively. He could feel the excitement bubbling within his limbs, sign that you still were like a shot of happiness to him, but what were those upsetting side-effects?

______

You stepped into a large room where the guests each chose a seat while you took place next to Himchan who was ready to give his speech. Jie sat at the front row, on your left, prepared to take notes so that he could relay the organization to his boss ; and thankfully, Sora had sent a colleague, putting the strangling reunion of your love triangle with Jooheon off to the scary date of the event.

"Good morning everyone! I'm Kim Himchan, the manager in charge of this project and this is Yoo Kihyun, Y/L/N Y/N and Jeon Jiwoo, my people, my team" your boss started with a clap of his hands.

Jooheon was sitting at the far back of the room, his right foot landed over his left knee, his hands with tangled fingers across his leg, his black turtleneck top under his camel trucker jacket catching your eye, but less than the fact that he had shortened his hair and the color had faded since the last time you met, signs that a long time had passed. Yet, his handsomeness never failed to feed your eyes, but when they met his dark pupils, your blood turned icy. He looked like the distant, rebellious kid at the back of the class that pinned the teachers down in their place with their piercing gaze.

You wondered if Jie was feeling the same way every time he met you, and if that was the case, you pitied him ; you were quite lucky to come across Jooheon only once in a while, as he shook your senses enough for you to feel disturbed even once you had parted, and you hated it.

Though this time, something had changed in him, but you couldn't pinpoint exactly what. Something in his look was turning your body stiff, just like it had the first time at the club ; it had been the only one time you had seen him shining with confidence and easiness, and right now, it seemed as if the usual gloominess that had inhabited him afterwards had… Gone. Had you guessed it right, had football really relieved him? Or was it something else? Either way, you didn't receive nor share his sadness this time as something different was emanating from him.

The more the clock on the wall was reading the seconds passing by, the more your hand was starting to hurt like hell, and the less you could focus on the meeting. You ignored if the explanation of the pain was lingering in the pure fact that the two lines were solicited at the same time, or simply that your body was overreacting under your systematical, uncontrollable desire to have Jooheon for you, and to have him lean on you.

The two pair of eyes of the men bound to you by destiny were focused on your being, unashamedly, inevitably, obviously staring at you and you only, and you were thrilled to read some kind of intensity in Jooheon's pupils each time you came to catch their sight. Mechanically, your thumb had started to slide along your palm in order to soothe the scorching sensation you thought you were the only one to suffer from, until you perceived your ideal's fingers doing exactly the same, with his palm turned to the ceiling for you to see.

You then got captured in a glimpse of time and space where nobody could tell, except for the both of you, that you were letting yourselves getting consumed into the sweet pain and under each other's stares. Suddenly, when Jie shifted in his seat and grasped your attention, his shy smile at you turned the sweet pain into an excruciating one, as if someone was planting a knife into your hand again and again.

It told how much you were torn between your need for your one-sided love to be accepted, and the will you had developed to walk down the possible way out of it.

"And that's about it! Any questions, before we get our claws on the appetizing buffet behind you?" Himchan concluded just before you'd scream out of pain, and as nobody rose a hand, you used the mass movement towards the back of the room as an opportunity to run discretely to the toilets.

The cold water flowing on your palm made you sigh in relief, and you closed your eyes for a moment, but ended up opening them in a haste as the picture of Jooheon staring at you had appeared in the black space veiling your pupils. What was wrong with him? When you had imagined he'd be nothing more than formal with you as three months had passed without him regretting anything, in fact he had almost been scanning you naked with his insisting look at your face. You slowly regained your composure as the pain dispelled, and finally walked out of the restroom, only to be met by one of the guests, a man in his mid-thirties, in the corridor.

"Oh sir? Did you lose yourself?" you asked him as he had been standing with his back against the wall.

He stood up properly with a smug look on his traits that instantly put you in a cagey position as something disturbing was glowing from his body, like a bad feeling, and he took long strides until he was properly facing you.

"Actually no… It might sound weird, but I followed you here because I wanted to have a short private talk with you, Miss Y/L/N" he said with a smile that wasn't warming at all.

"R-really? You must have some points to share? Tell me so I could relay them to my sup-"

"You're really professional, I like you even more…" he acknowledged in a low-tone, and this time, you were definitely embarrassed.

Was he hitting on you, right now? There was nobody in the corridor as the restrooms were quite far from the meeting rooms, and you weren't sure of how this would end as you'd have to turn his eventual confession down.

"I just wanted a bit of privacy, to ask you out for dinner, tomorrow night. Just you and me."

"I'm sorry but I'll have to refuse, sir." you smiled awkwardly with an enchanting tone to chase away the tension building between the both of you. "Thank you for proposing, but-"

"Oh please, you can't refuse, it's my treat! I know a bunch of luxurious restaurants that women adore, you won't regret it!" he insisted, grabbing his phone in the pocket of his costume's vest and presenting it to you. "Here! Why refuse, my pretty lady, hm? That senior is ready to do anything for you."

He looked so arrogant, obviously thinking girls who were young were also dupe and would gladly give themselves to him, but he had been wrong about you. You almost rolled your eyes at his stubborn behavior, as if using his status and pet names – that were out of place – would make you change your mind.

"I'm really sorry, I can't accept your offer, sir. Should we go back to-"

"Why are you refusing?" he suddenly groaned, combing his hair nervously. "Don't you know how good of an opportunity this is for your company? We could be great partners afterwards! You shouldn't be that difficult and just give me a night, huh? C'mon, I told you you wouldn't regret it!"

Your heartbeat was now the one of some kind of fanfare turning hectic, as you felt anger fueling through your veins at his threat, but also the premises of panic because the two of you were alone.

"I don't think us going out on a date tomorrow has anything to do with my career or my company, sir" you tried to answer in the politest of tones before biting your tongue so that insults wouldn't proliferate out of your lips.

"Hey, you little- You should know better than to talk back to your elders and just accept the good deeds they do for you, shouldn't you?"

"I think I have the right to refuse, sir. I'm sorry."

"You're very stubborn as I can see… What a shame, hm?"

The man suddenly grabbed your right arm, freezing you in your heels, his eyes opened wide and his brows furrowed in pent-up frustration as you didn't comply to his far from legitim authority. And just as he had been about to lecture you some more, a hand caught his and firmly removed it from your limb.

"You heard her, right? She refused, you disgusting pervert" Jooheon interfered in a tensed, stern tone as he stepped before you, before his jaw clenched tightly.

The surprise of his sudden appearance and your frozen state quickly faded away as his citrus perfume invaded your space ; and like an enchantment, it lifted the atmosphere up, relaxed your limbs and untied the knot twisting your stomach in fear, making you feel at ease and secure.

"W-What?" the man stuttered, looking impressed by the young man's serious face and his apparent strength as he had squeezed his hand without pity.

"I filmed everything before interfering, and I'll report this to your employer, you can be sure of it. Also, I can make it buzz in a few hours, don't you know who I am? Huh? I can bring you down in a minute" he pursued as he took a step further. "I can't believe you're proudly saying you're a senior when you act like an ignorant pervert. So maybe I, a junior, should teach you how life is. Nothing will ever give you the right to think women should oblige when you say so. You're nobody. No-bo-dy. You don't have any right to tell a woman she's disrespectful when you don't respect her in the first place. Do you get what I'm saying, sir? Or should I make it clearer? You don't have any right to lay your dirty hands on a woman unless she agrees for you to do so, you hear me? You don't have any right to intimidate her or even talk to her to begin with, you scumbag, you filthy dirty scumbag I swear you should be taught to be a man"

Jooheon had approached the businessman a bit more, his right index pointing at his chest but never touching him, his physical presence enough to crush anyone else's self-assurance into dozens of pieces. His unphased expression and threatening behavior impressed you, as well as his sharp tone, mostly because you were their trigger. Something had definitely changed in him. Something that was straightening his back and glowed through every pore of his fair skin, telling you he was now standing with a confidence you hadn't known of.

He looked like a man that finally was comfortable enough in his own shoes, but as you could decipher the invisible flames of fury irradiating all around his body and spotted his left fist tightening, you grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't take it further. Jooheon turned back to your fingers wrapped around his watch, then to you.

"I won't do anything, only if you forgive him" your ideal then addressed you in a calm tone, before he unblocked your sight of the man for you to kill him with a disgusted stare.

"Don't get that angry, young boy, I-I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry" the latter couldn't talk properly anymore, shame reddening his prominent cheeks.

Jooheon's eyes were gazing at you with a sweetness reminding you of that morning when he had held you close in his kitchen, and you cursed secretly at him for having appeared next to you when you were at your weakest, as his ambiguous behavior made your heart flutter even more. It conveyed the same light of false hopes you had tried to turn a blind eye to, and it was dangerously circling you.

"He's not the one you should apologize to" a familiar voice suddenly cut in the conversation, and Jie appeared from the end of the corridor with a face as strict as Jooheon's. "I witnessed everything as well and looked up for your company's contact information. I won't let this go. This isn't making business, this isn't profitable for your company or hers, this is harassment, and you should be ashamed of it."

Jooheon's brows quirked in surprise as he looked at the plus-one who had put an end to his somehow intimate moment with you, only to be met with the darkest stare he'd ever received in his whole life. Dark, but also… Thankful? Your eyes were going back and forth between the two saviors, as you felt that an electric vibe was circulating from a pair of eyes to another. The pain in your hand burned your flesh all over again as you did so, and the second you winced, Jooheon and Jie's attention focused on you, completely forgetting about the third party who let out a long sigh before hanging his head low, evidently having a hard time swallowing his pride to apologize to you.

"I'm sorry, miss. Forgive me."

"I hope you will stop thinking that your position should make women appreciate you and beg for a night with you. I will stay nice for now because the event is coming soon and we can't replace you in such a short time. But I hope that your attitude doesn't reflect your company's values, I'll ask about it myself. Just know that it would be shameless of you to dare come out in front of me ever again, and if you do so, the video will be out" you managed to warn him even though your voice was trembling due to your need to moan your suffering out. "Let's go back to the room"

You didn't know where your confidence to lecture an older man had come from when he had been pretty intimidating before and you had been quite scared for yourself ; surely Jooheon's and Jie's overpowering auras, like those of two knights in shining armors, had made you feel protected and supported.

"You're coming with me" Jie surprisingly took your hand in his and without further explanations, leaded the walk down the corridor, leaving the pervert behind the both of you ruminating his own frustration and fright to get reported anytime, but also Jooheon whose lips got sealed the second your skins weren't in contact anymore.

His eyes fell down on your hand intertwined in his, an unreadable expression veiling his traits before they went up to your face as you looked back at him while walking away, still flustered by his intervention, and torn to have your hand in another man's.

______

"Where are you taking me? And why hold my hand?" you asked Jie as you followed behind him.

You didn't have the guts to tear your hands apart on your own, the serious look on his face preventing you to do so.

"Where can I find ice?" Jie asked you back as he kept on pacing straight in the hallway.

"Ice? Ah that's right, we forgot to put some on the tables for the drinks! We can go to the rest area, we have a fridge there" you informed him, your heart beating fast. "It's the door on the right, over there…"

Once you had entered the empty room, Jie finally freed your palm to close the door behind the both of you, then he pressed himself towards the fridge. You silently observed him as he put some ice cubes in a towel he had found on the vending machine's handle, before he told you to sit on one of the sofas.

"What? Why?"

"I know your left hand is hurting, you were rubbing it a while ago and I can feel it too, it hurts pretty badly, doesn't it?" he answered in the most natural of ways, and your heart begun the fanfare all over again.

He was so considerate, from the way he had noticed your pain, to how he had also stepped up to a senior only to defend you. For the first time since your encounter, and even though your feelings belonged to someone else, you couldn't deny that it had reached out to you, almost in a romantic way.

"O-Oh… Thank you…"

"I'm sorry I followed you to the toilets, but I was pretty worried about you" he then told you straightforwardly.

It looked like he was having a lots of arrows to shoot at you on this day.

"Actually I went to the toilets to put some water on it, but ice is way better" you sighed in relief as he was massaging your palm with the ballot of ice he had quickly made, and the mixture of the warmth of his hand supporting yours and the cold of the fabric was the most soothing of sensations.

His brows were furrowed as he was concentrating on keeping his gestures delicate, and you took this opportunity to close your eyes briefly. Some pictures of the previous incident flashed through your mind, and you gazed back at Jie to admire his sharp traits that never failed to fascinate you. How come your thoughts were monopolized by Jooheon's face and questions about him, when this man right here was ready to give you what you needed? The law was so unfair to the both of you.

"Thank you, for also coming to my rescue earlier, that man was pretty creepy" you said before biting your lip, as he probably hadn't been able to prevent himself to do so.

"I'm just glad I followed you there, my instincts definitely never betray me" he smiled purely as his eyes finally looked at you, catching you in the act of analyzing every single inch of his skin. "Oh and about tomorrow night… What will you be doing?"

"Tomorrow night? Nothing, I only told him no because I didn't want to go" you chuckled.

"Oh well… I was willing to ask you out on a date anyway, so I might just do it now. Would you mind going out to eat with me instead, tomorrow night?"

His eyes conveyed an intensity that flushed your cheeks and suspended time for a second, in this room only lightened by the few rays of sun penetrating through the small window and enlightening in gold his light strands of hair. You could have sworn your heart had finally given up some beats to this man worthy of everything, but its main rhythm was obviously stimulated by another man that was somewhere behind this door.

The way to a possible happiness without him was paved right before you for your eyes to see, and probably to a new beginning with a decent man ; however, you knew from your past relapse at the sight of Jooheon's picture, and from the way he had overshadowed Jie earlier would it be in the room or in the corridor, that you weren't quite ready to date or love anyone else but him.

"Can I give you my answer later?" you still smiled.

It would be the perfect occasion to be truthful with him and put an end to his false hopes just like Jooheon had done with you, before it would be too late, before he would end up as miserable as you had been for weeks. The temptation to just give in the easy way had been powerful as his care for you was heart-fluttering, but less than your feelings for Jooheon, and you couldn't deceive Jie or yourself anymore.

"Sure, Y/N" he gently nodded before going back to his ministrations without saying another word.

______

Jooheon had witnessed the incident from the very beginning. Indeed, he had seen you step out of the room hurriedly and not too long after, one of the men he had heard talking dirtily about you earlier in the main hall had followed you. Just like Jie, his guts had told him that nothing good would happen out of an eventual encounter, and they had taken his feet through the huge and numerous hallways of the building, the red vest of the pervert always in his sight.

He had then waited quietly at the corner of a crossover, observing the man as he had paced around in front of the women's restroom's door before stationing himself against the wall. Jooheon's heart had been bumping against his ribcage, while his hands had enclosed into tight fists, the tension getting higher in this silent corridor. When you had finally stepped out, he had caught his breath not to miss any single word of your conversation, and had brandished his handphone to record the scene in case you'd need it.

The second the man had dropped his first dirty move on you, Jooheon's anticipation had turned into anger, his veins popping out of his neck, hands and even temples. And right at the moment when he had decided he'd had enough of this disgusting scene playing under his two eyes, he had spotted the blonde man in his brown suit walking down the hallway facing his, approaching the scene. That was when a thought had popped up in his mind fueled with rage : he had promised himself not to be a coward anymore. And that very thought, had urged his body towards yours, as if attracted to you like a magnet, and made him intervene before his twisted brain could tell him to hide like the runaway he was.

Jooheon had rarely seen that red in his whole life, as he had felt on the verge to crush the man down until he had been crawling and begging for your forgiveness, but mostly, the sensation of being strong, important in your eyes had excited him somehow.

Nevertheless, it hadn't lasted long. When the blonde man had finally interrupted him in his rare time of following his heart, when he had looked at him without blinking, Jooheon's confidence had lost to his doubts, again. The sadness lingering in your last text message, the memory of your teary eyes three months ago, the echo of your voice begging him to stop acting as if there was a way for a "you" to happen struck him like a thunderbolt. Maybe this man, would make you happy when he had failed to.

That millisecond of torment had been enough for this very man to be the one taking your hand then your body away from that dirty stranger, without thinking or hesitating, and to leave him as the defeated man he still seemed to be. He thought he had changed, but once more, what had only been left, was the price of his regrets or, like his friend Minhyuk had accurately induced, the price of his feelings he had wrongfully subsided. Right in this corridor, Lee Jooheon had been a bit too late to realize that he liked you too, as his lingering anger had transformed into frustration and jealousy.

Regrets, regrets, regrets. Jooheon was getting tired of this bugging feeling. So tired that he'd do anything to not welcome them anymore. And as his eyes had fallen on his empty left hand, his vivid heart-line scorching his skin couldn't have seemed more meaningful to him.

The key to the end of this long labyrinth he had been wandering in with his eyes closed, hoping to find an issue while avoiding the new experiences in front of him, was in fact residing in one thing : his heart, that had given him the most impulsive, spontaneous of directives in a while, but the most ecstatic of feelings once he had been close to you.

His heart, calling for him to fall off the cliff he had been hanging on for too long, and to finally give in to the euphoria of love, for himself and for you.

***

"I'll send them off manager, don't worry!" you exclaimed to Himchan's attention as you walked out of the building and stood a few meters away from the entrance to shake hands with everyone and thank them.

The subtle breeze comforted you after the disturbing episode in the hallway, but it couldn't calm the drum solo your bloody organ was still playing as you knew you'd come to face Jooheon again. You hadn't had the chance to approach him after you had been back to the meeting room, as Jie had stood by your side all the while, his eyes telling you that he had been worried that you'd collapse at any moment, once the pressure had completely fallen down.

Your heels were stamping the pavement as you were thinking of what to say, but also wondering if you could ask the questions Jooheon had the talent to outnumber with additional ones every time you met, leaving them preys to your unending interpretation.

The man of your dreams was the last one to step out, his agent leaving the two of you on the forecourt after bidding politely his goodbyes, and before you could open your mouth to thank him properly for having protected you, Jooheon asked you :

"Are you alright?"

"I guess, thanks to you. Thank you for intervening, really" you said truthfully, and when your eyes dived into his crescent ones, your body vibrated with the familiar yet dangerous tsunami of feelings you had bottled up.

Jooheon shared that same trembling feeling as he, too, had kept many things inside for a long while, and as he was letting them out one after the other, he couldn't fight the smile curling his lips at your sight and answer.

"Good then, I'm glad to hear that" he sighed his thoughts out, before licking his lower lip. "I have a thing to be thankful for you as well."

"Me? What is it?" you questioned him with doubt lacing your voice.

"I've been practicing football again, and I wouldn't have hadn't it been for you. You might not realize it, but I wanted to thank you anyways because it has helped me a lot" he confessed.

His deep and serious tone made you scoff the embarrassment out of your body, before swinging slightly back and forth to vivify your limbs as they could melt under his stare at any moment. You felt nervous to be left alone with that new version of him, his quiet strength overhanging you.

"What does that even mean, I didn't do anything special…" you grumbled. "Anyway, I'm glad to hear that as well."

He chuckled at your reaction, and started counting the seconds passing by, his brain urging itself to find what to say so that you wouldn't part ways already.

"Can I ask you a question?" you unexpectedly spoke up another time, relieving him as you granted him a bit more time.

"Sure, go ahead" Jooheon shrugged, his palms growing sweaty because of the anticipation.

"Why did you take the job? You don't need it anymore, I mean you're back in the club" you interrogated frankly, an apparent unphased look dressing your face.

You had taken acting classes back in school, so you knew how to pretend. When you could sometimes share his emotions or read him like an open book because he was your soulmate, you had decided to take an advantage of this unbalanced situation by displaying a bit of nonchalance and distancing, so that you wouldn't falter before him as easily as in front of his resumé.

"Hmmm…" he hummed as he certainly hadn't expected this question to come out. "Should I be honest or-"

"I can tell if you lie, you know" you reminded him while waving your left hand at him with the red mark shining brightly.

"That's true… Well, let's say that my guts told me to do so" Jooheon managed to mumble while diverting his eyes from your face as it could drive him into betraying his deepest intentions.

Even though he had found pure bliss in acting recklessly earlier, his body moving and his tongue untying without warning, now that there was only the two of you he was hyperaware of his every move, scared to ruin his chance to try putting the pieces of an "us" together, or at least sow its seeds.

"Your guts…?"

You tilted your head, unsure of what it meant. Another swirl of wind flew around you and brought his scent right into your nostrils again, his presence getting more and more overwhelming.

"Yeah, my guts" Jooheon reiterated as his eyes lowered back on you with the same intensity as in the hallway, catching the legs of time that stopped running along with your breath.

He could see that you were drowning under a sea of confusion as his behavior swayed between assertive and careful of being too forward, confusing him all the same as he was hesitating about what to actually do. Hiding his feelings and himself wasn't an option anymore ; but why couldn't all of his fiery honesty just form the right words that would translate what he actually felt about you?

"Fine, see you soon then" you abruptly concluded, upset by his vague answer that was way worse than silence, and you extended your hand to send him off just like you had done with the rest of the group.

Jooheon gladly took it, but he didn't let go after a short shake ; in fact, he pulled at it in a swift move once he had sensed that you were about to question his actions, bringing you pretty close to him.

"You said you could tell when I lied…" the words trailed out of his mouth as he looked down at you with sparkly and squinted eyes. "Well, I kinda lied."

"What do you-"

Your voice suddenly got muted as the orange-haired boy snaked his way around your neck and waist with his arms, lightly squeezing your body into a hug before his head landed on your shoulder, his neck kissing your lips. You gasped, but your hands were unable to push him away, whether it be you giving in to his touch as you loved it just like you loved him, or the law tying them down to your body as it had finally gotten what it existed for : you being close to your soulmate.

"Sorry, that's what my guts told me to do as well" his voice vibrated through his chest against yours and resonated in your headwalls. " I think I missed you, Y/N. I'm too ashamed to say it straight to your face, but my guts… No, my heart is making me crave to do all sort of things today, and for the first time in a while, I know I won't regret it."

At this confession, his fingers dug a bit deeper into the fabric of your blazer. You could feel his heart beating fast against your torso, giving credit to his messy declaration that left you breathless. Your own vital organ was throbbing at the erosion of thoughts buzzing through your mind, from you stealing a kiss from him to smacking his face for being this late ; but the chills on your skin were slowly inducing that you were somehow thrilled to believe that something was actually happening. After all your efforts. After three months. After only a short reunion in the morning.

"I thought of you pretty often, as reconciliating with football was a way for me to stop living like a coward waiting for things to get better without working on it at some point" he acknowledged. "And I thought it was strange that I couldn't move on, so I wanted to see you again to sort things out, and that's the answer I've got… I just couldn't part ways another time without being honest with myself and with you, for once. I just needed you to know, that I missed you."

"Why do you want me to know that" you finally answered in a monotone, your voice muffled by his body against yours, and Jooheon adjusted his arms around your frame so that you could properly speak.

Your breath on the material of his clothes still sprawled ticklish sensations all over his skin like ants going down his limbs, and he almost hissed at the flustering sensation.

"Because I'm tired of thinking about you with regrets filling my mind" he finally straightened himself to gaze properly at you in the eyes, his arms still resting loosely on your body. "I know I told you not to wait for me, I hope you didn't… And I don't know who that man is to you… But I'll have to try my best to listen to this raging dude if I want to be proud of myself one day"

He patted the left part of his chest, releasing your shoulders from his hold, and it immediately felt cold. You had missed him too; your colleagues could testify. And for a long while, you had wished for this moment to happen, him coming back to get you with eyes full of regrets and apologies as he'd have realized that he liked you back and that it was worth the try.

The overwhelming sensations you went through at the listening of his speech suddenly spilled through the edge of your fingers that hurried themselves up his shoulders, to his neck, before they reached his face, and pulled him into a kiss. A long, insistent, needy press of your lips against his ; the only way to put an end to his confusing rent and to your panicked thoughts plaguing your mind.

You had been dying to kiss him since the first time you had met him in the club, and after your last one, just while thinking of him ; now that you were doing it again, it seemed that you'd never get enough of him, never enough to fill in the void he had left up 'til now.

When his lips started moving against yours to kiss you back again and again with the same need, upgrading to another rhythm, Jooheon felt like he was getting dangerously closer and closer to abandoning himself to his euphoria again, so he forced himself to pull back, leaving you with your eyes closed.

"I like you, Y/N" he breathed out. "I like you, but I want to take it easy. I've hurt you."

You finally grasped what had happened, what your body had decided to do on its own, how your bottled feelings for him or maybe the powers of the law had taken over your faculty to think rationally or even control yourself ; and that was when Kihyun's words from three months ago resounded with the most power into your eardrums.

Burning with your desire for him, craving for his touch when he had barely hugged you, kissing him with a despair you hadn't been able to contain, wishing for it to never stop and only seeing and feeling him ; all the emotions crashing down on your being were too much to handle at once, so much that you got scared of yourself.

All along, you had been sure that you liked – no, loved him, and that the empty feeling you had gone under painfully could be explained by the power of love before the one of the law. However, right now, you couldn't decipher where the origin of your rushed, needy actions and of your emotions lingered : was it really from your heart that pounded in your chest as its fluttering was finally reciprocated? Or from the law that had made you fall for Jooheon in the first place and now stimulated your body to the point that it felt like you weren't mastering it anymore, because it was satisfying its purpose?

You were suddenly terrified of what Jooheon actually made you feel, instead of enjoying the bliss they all had talked about ; when his feelings were genuine as he wasn't tied to you by the law, the intensity of your excitement shone the confusion Kihyun had talked to you about in your blurred spirit. You needed to tame and sort these new emotions out, before you'd get pervasive and lose yourself and him a second time.

"I-I'm sorry" you only managed to stammer as you pushed his hands away from you, before taking a step back, then another one.

"Y/N, wait let's-"

"You needed time, now I need mine" you cut him as you were getting closer and closer to the building. "I was only wishing for this to happen, but… I-I don't know what I'm feeling right now I need to go"

"Wait just stay let's talk it out I have so much to-"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me but I just can't be with you any longer" you finally sobbed your frustration out and without looking at him, your eyes glued to the pavement where you had searched for your sanity in vain, you turned around and disappeared behind the glass doors.

Jooheon clutched a hand at his heart beating way too loud for him to think clearly, the palm of his left one burning after your passionate kiss. And for the second time, he had to watch you walk away without having the chance to hold you back into another moment where the blooming of an "us" was waiting for the both of you to water it at the same time.

A/N : thank you again for having read it up ‘til now, I’m doing my best to continue writing the ending part through my schedule!

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