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notiddygothgf · 3 days ago

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15. An Affair

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I'm not going home with you. ❞

★ c.w.: domestic violence, confessions (bad ones)

★ a/n: HEY GUYSSSS!! its my day off today and instead of studying I wanted to put somethin' out for my girlies. im ngl, this chapter was so hard to write, but the ending was so worth it. Y'all are gonna have such a love/hate relationship w me after this. Anyway! I hope yall enjoy! Keep those wonderful comments coming! I hope you have all been well. If not, I hope this chapter cheers you up (it prob. wont.)

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

PUBLIC SAFETY ALERT:| Your presence has been requested at Public Safety Tokyo HQ. A mission is being assigned to you.

Seen

The morning air hung thick around the quiet school grounds, carrying a chill that made your skin prickle. Each step forward felt measured, heavy, as you walked alongside your husband, the space between you humming with unspoken tension. He walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze darting toward you now and then, searching for an opening to break the silence. But you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to keep this quiet, to push down the remnants of last night’s argument until you could forget it entirely. Or at least pretend to.

Finally, he spoke, voice soft and wary. “About last night…” He trailed off, pausing to clear his throat as if that might help the words come more easily. “I didn’t mean for things to… go that way. I was just worried. I shouldn’t have…” He let out a short, strained breath, his gaze fixed on the ground.

The apology hung in the air between you, awkward, unfinished, and you felt it tug at something inside you—a part of you that almost wanted to forgive him. Almost.

But the way he’d looked at you, the words he’d said, were still fresh, lingering like a bruise that hadn’t fully healed. A quiet, distrustful part of him had surfaced last night, and even though he seemed sorry now, that part of him was still there, waiting.

You swallowed, keeping your voice steady, measured. “Can we just… do this job?” Your words were a plea wrapped in exhaustion, and you could feel his shoulders slump, the small fight in him deflating in one slow exhale.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Sure.”

The building finally came into view, its pale brick walls rising against the sky like an empty, blank stare. Division 4 waited by the entrance, their expressions serious, their stances taut with quiet anticipation. Aki stood slightly off to the side, his posture rigid, arms folded, his gaze fixed on the school’s shadowed entrance. And even in the cool, gray light, you found him instantly, drawn to that familiar, unshakable steadiness.

You caught his eye, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in your chest eased, his gaze steadying you like an anchor. There was a question in his eyes, something soft and understanding, though it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He held your gaze just a beat too long, as if reluctant to let it go, and you felt a quiet understanding settle between you.

“Good morning!” Himeno’s voice sliced through the tension, her warm smile easing the air around you all as she approached. She waved, the familiar glow in her eyes brightening her face. “Glad to see you’re here.”

Your husband shifted beside you, his face flickering with something unreadable as his eyes lingered on Aki before he turned to Himeno, offering her a small nod. Then, as if reminding himself of his role, he extended a hand toward Aki, his expression carefully neutral, voice formal. “Captain Hayakawa.”

Aki’s gaze drifted to the offered handshake, his expression barely shifting. There was a flicker of something—disdain, perhaps, or maybe just indifference. He didn’t bother to hide it. Instead, he straightened, his face a mask of calm detachment as he looked toward the group.

“Let’s head in,” he said smoothly, his tone level, almost too controlled. His eyes flicked back to you and your husband, impassive. “You’re late.”

Himeno’s gaze flickered from you to Aki, a faint smile tugging at her lips, as if she could read the silent tension, though she chose not to comment. She was sharp that way, perceptive to the smallest changes, though she kept her observations to herself, a quiet ally in the awkwardness.

He’s so hot when he plays captain.

Your husband’s hand dropped back to his side, his face momentarily tightening before he carefully masked it, his expression becoming a careful blankness. He took a step back, composing himself as he fell into line behind you, saying nothing.

Aki kept his gaze forward, ignoring the unspoken friction that lingered in the air, his posture steady, unbothered. But you could sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface, in the slight shift of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw just a bit too tight.

As the group began moving toward the building, you found yourself drawn beside Aki, his presence a steadying force that you clung to, even as you kept a careful distance. The two of you fell into step, shoulders almost brushing, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him despite the cold around you. He kept his eyes forward, his expression giving nothing away, but the quiet understanding between you both was enough.

Your husband walked behind you now, his steps deliberate, and though he said nothing, you could feel the weight of his gaze flickering between you and Aki. There was a guardedness in his posture, a watchfulness that lingered in the space between you all, like he was waiting for something to confirm whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind.

The school loomed closer, its windows dark, reflecting the dull gray sky back at you, and as you approached, a strange, unsettling stillness settled over the group. The building seemed to watch you all with an empty, silent gaze, as if daring you to step inside, to disturb whatever lay waiting in its shadows.

The building swallowed you up the moment you stepped inside, closing in around the group like a mouth with bated breath. Aki’s flashlight flicked on, cutting through the darkness in a narrow beam that skimmed over half-open lockers and scattered shoes left behind in haste. Stray papers littered the ground, pages from abandoned notebooks catching the flashlight’s glow, rustling softly with each step, as if stirred to life by your passing.

You stayed close to Aki, moving at his side, careful not to draw too near but finding comfort in his steady, unwavering pace. Beside him, you could let your own unease simmer beneath the surface, half-hidden, masked by his calm. Every now and then, he shifted the flashlight to scan further down the hall, his expression as unreadable as ever, and yet, in the quiet, a tension simmered. He was prepared, senses sharpened; you knew by the way his shoulder brushed yours in the narrow passage, felt by the slightest tightening of his grip on the flashlight.

Behind you, your husband walked a few steps back, his silence no less present. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the way he observed, his eyes moving between you and Aki with a cautious deliberation. The weight of his gaze lingered on the spaces between you, where he seemed to search for something neither spoken nor visible, yet unmistakable.

The halls echoed with your footfalls and the quiet hum of distant lights that hadn’t yet died out completely. The building had the eerie feel of a place left suddenly, like whoever had been here had simply vanished mid-motion. The lockers were open, contents strewn about as if someone had been in too much of a rush to close them properly. Shoes and scattered backpacks lined the floor, small details that added an unsettling familiarity to the strangeness around you. It felt like walking through a memory someone had tried to erase.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Himeno whispered, her voice breaking through the quiet like the flutter of a bird’s wings. She kept close to Denji, her eyes darting around, and he gave a tight grin, though his shoulders were wound tense, his hand twitching at his side.

Aki didn’t respond, just kept his eyes forward, his flashlight sweeping the walls and floor as he led you through the darkened hallways. The silence settled back over the group, thickening as you continued deeper into the building. You reached the cafeteria, its entrance looming before you like the mouth of a cavern. Aki stepped over a fallen backpack just inside, his flashlight catching on the glint of scattered utensils and trays, and Denji followed close behind, moving with a quiet intensity that belied his usual carelessness. He lingered near the doorway, casting a quick glance at Aki before slipping further inside, putting a bit of distance between them as though seeking his own sense of direction, away from Aki’s unspoken authority.

You stepped in as well, your heart beating faster as the room stretched before you in a dim, empty sprawl. Anxiety simmered in your chest, the stillness of the place pressing down harder with each step. It was as if something waited just beyond the edges of the flashlight’s reach, lurking in the corners, lying in wait. You forced yourself to take a steady breath, though the question lingered, unsettling in its quiet persistence: Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Then, Aki’s voice, low but clear, cut through the quiet. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped, tilting your head to listen. “What?” you whispered, your eyes scanning the dim shadows around you.

“There’s a… ticking sound,” he replied, his brow furrowing as he tilted the flashlight upward, his gaze following the beam to scan the high, shadowed ceiling.

Himeno stepped forward, moving cautiously, her eyes narrowing as she glanced around the room. “I don’t see anything,” she murmured, her tone wavering.

Aki’s attention sharpened, and he moved deeper into the room, his flashlight focusing on the rows of overturned tables and chairs, like soldiers abandoned mid-march. He stopped in front of an industrial oven, the source of the faint ticking that had drawn his attention. He bent down, inspecting it closely before he turned back to you all, his voice tense. “Stand back,” he ordered, gesturing for everyone to move away as he prepared to open it.

The group took a few steps back, a collective breath held as Aki swung the oven door open. The flashlight revealed only empty racks and dust, nothing to suggest any real danger, and yet the ticking persisted, faint but insistent.

Aki straightened, glancing back toward you all with a small shake of his head. “Nothing in there.”

The moment he spoke, a low rumble began, a tremor that sent vibrations through the floor. You looked to him, worry blooming as he took a step backward, his attention still on the others as if to reassure you all—but before he could say a word, the wall behind him burst open with a deafening crack.

Dust and debris exploded into the air, and Aki was thrown forward, his body slammed by a wave of rubble that crashed over him. He fell hard, hitting the ground as chunks of concrete and metal scattered around him. You staggered back, your breath catching as the sound of the explosion reverberated in your ears, muffling everything but the thundering of your own heartbeat.

Your ears were ringing, your head was throbbing, yet all you could think was – Aki.

The moment you saw him lying there, still and silent, everything around you faded into a muted blur. A distant voice, your husband’s, drifted from behind you, sounding strained and far away.

“I’m here,” he called out, steady but cautious, like he was trying to anchor you, but it barely registered.

The sight of Aki’s limp body, his chest unmoving, was all you could see. You moved past everyone—blind to the dust, the debris, and even the sharp sting in your own side—your legs carrying you to him without thought.

“Aki!” The shout tore from your throat before you could stop it, raw with a panic you couldn’t hold back. You rushed forward, your hands trembling as you stumbled over the debris, your focus locked on Aki’s crumpled form amid the settling dust – professional names be damned.

Dropping to your knees beside him, you reached out, cradling his head in your lap, your hands trembling as you gently lifted his face toward yours. Your fingers found their way to his cheeks, then to his brow, tracing the slight furrow still etched into it, as though he had fought to stay conscious even until the last moment. He was still warm, but his skin was too pale. It was as if the entire world had come to a halt around you. Somewhere behind, you could sense the others standing in stunned silence, unmoving. How could they just stand there, watching? The love of your life could be slipping away, and they were frozen.

Love of my life…

The thought stopped you cold, a rush of fear and realization so profound it almost hurt. Had it really taken you that long to realize it?

“He’s alive,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, so quiet you could hardly recognize it as your own.

From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband watching, his face tense but unreadable, taking in the scene with a look of guarded apprehension. He didn’t say anything, though you felt his gaze linger as you checked Aki’s pulse, letting yourself believe, even if for a moment, that everything might be okay.

Himeno limped toward you, her face pale and streaked with dust, though her eyes were focused. Denji hovered nearby, his gaze shifting nervously between Aki and the rest of the room, his usual bravado strangely absent.

A slow, mocking laugh echoed through the darkness, slicing through the tension. The sound sent a chill down your spine, and Himeno’s gaze snapped toward the source, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “Shit. He’s here,” she muttered, glancing down at you. “You’re bleeding.”

You blinked, looking down at your side, only just noticing the thick patch of blood soaking through your shirt. A sharp pain throbbed beneath your ribs, and you inhaled unsteadily, trying to keep your focus. You had been so concerned with Aki, you hadn’t noticed that a stray piece of metal from the inside of the wall had embedded itself into your side.

“He’s barely breathing,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “We have to call for help.”

Your ears were ringing, the edges of the room swimming slightly as adrenaline surged and ebbed in rapid waves. Himeno looked at you, her expression torn, her face bruised and her breathing labored. But then she nodded, her decision clear. “Call for help,” she instructed firmly. “You stay with him and keep checking his pulse until they arrive. The rest of you,” she turned to Denji and your husband, “are coming with me. Let’s put this bastard down.”

Nodding, you reached for Aki’s walkie-talkie, your fingers slipping slightly as you clutched the radio and pressed the call button. Your voice cracked as you spoke. “This is… this is urgent. Aki’s down. He’s unconscious, barely breathing. He’s bleeding out—we need immediate backup.”

The rest of the group slipped away – Your husband cast you one final glance before following suit, leaving you and your lover alone with nothing but the deafening silence to accompany you.

The silence that followed felt endless, punctuated only by the faint static from the walkie-talkie and Aki’s faint, irregular breaths. You swallowed, trying to keep your focus even as your hands began to shake.

“Stay with me, Aki,” you whispered, brushing a lock of hair from his face, your fingers lingering on his cheek, willing him to open his eyes, to just look at you. But he remained still, each shallow breath a reminder of how close you had come to losing him.

Fifteen minutes later—though it felt like hours—help arrived. Three officers rushed in, their faces taut with concern as they took in the scene. One of them, a man you vaguely recognized, gave you a solemn nod before crouching down beside you, reaching for Aki. His hands were gentle, but the thought of someone else touching him, moving him, felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

“We’ve got him now,” he said quietly, but when he reached out to lift Aki, a desperate surge of protectiveness made you tighten your hold.

“No—” The word left your lips before you could stop it, raw and laced with panic. But they gently pried him from your arms, and the separation felt like a wound opening wide, a visceral ache that made it hard to breathe.

You clutched your bleeding side, your vision blurring as you tried to steady yourself. A thick, aching pain throbbed in your chest as you watched them begin to lift him, every instinct screaming to stay by his side. You had to follow. You had to make sure he would be okay.

“Aiko,” one of the officers said, his voice firm yet gentle, nodding toward the door. “Take them outside.”

He moved beside Aki, lifting him carefully, and without another word, he threw one of Aki’s arms over his shoulder, giving you a brief, determined glance. “Come on. Grab his other side.”

Wordlessly, you nodded, stepping forward and slipping your arm around Aki’s waist, bracing him as you lifted his other arm over your shoulder. The weight of him pressed against you, grounding you, and you forced yourself to keep moving, even as every step felt like a jagged edge digging deeper into your side.

With each step toward the exit, the fresh air grew closer, yet the world felt hazy, every breath heavy with worry and the knowledge that nothing would ever feel certain until he opened his eyes again.

As you moved to lean over, easing Aki into the seat beside you, a sharp, searing pain suddenly tore up your side, fierce enough to make you gasp. Your hand slipped, and you nearly dropped him, his weight sagging as you stumbled back, struggling to catch your breath. It took everything you had to hold steady, to keep your balance, gritting your teeth as you fought to ignore the blooming heat spreading across your ribs.

Aiko, his face furrowing with concern, caught sight of the blood soaking through your shirt. “Shit, are you bleeding?” he asked, eyes widening as he looked from you to the deep red stain.

The pain was settling into something fierce and relentless, throbbing with each shallow breath you took. You nodded, barely able to speak through the tightness in your chest, feeling the sting pulse along every nerve.

Without hesitation, Aiko steadied Aki, shifting his weight to settle him securely into the back seat of the car. Then he turned to you, his tone calm but firm as he took in your paling face and shaking hands. “We’re taking you to the hospital too. Both of you,” he said, cutting off any protest before you could muster one. “Get in the car. Other side.”

The finality in his voice made it clear there was no room for argument, and even if you wanted to push back, your strength was dwindling. You bit down against the pain, making your way around to the other side, sliding in opposite Aki. The weight of the seat seemed to press into your side, aggravating the wound as you struggled to find a comfortable position. You glanced over at Aki, his face still pale, breaths shallow as he lay slumped against the seat.

As the car started up, you shifted carefully, reaching over to lay his head in your lap. The feel of him there—fragile, the warmth of his skin faint against your touch—steadied you. Your fingers brushed over his hair, gentle and soothing, a small comfort as you tried to hold back the trembling in your hands.

Aiko turned to the driver. “Take them both straight to the hospital, now.”

The engine rumbled to life, and the car jolted forward, pulling you away from the scene, the night blurring past as the streetlights flickered over you in a stream of dim light. You adjusted yourself slowly, angling your body to support Aki’s head in your lap without disturbing your wound, even as the pain persisted, gnawing with every bump and turn. But you didn’t care; all that mattered was keeping him close, reassuring yourself with each faint breath he took, each barely-there rise and fall of his chest.

You focused on his face, his closed eyes and furrowed brows, his features softened in unconsciousness, untouched by his usual sharpness and guarded restraint. It was almost peaceful—if not for the bruises beginning to form along his cheek, the small streaks of blood that marred his skin. You reached up, wiping away a smudge of dust from his forehead, the simple act anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in the steady silence of the drive.

The pain in your side was starting to numb, fading into a distant ache as the adrenaline dulled your senses. But the reality of it all—the weight of what had happened, the fear that had gripped you—settled heavily over you like a thick fog, refusing to lift. You leaned back, eyes never leaving Aki’s face, your hand resting gently on his shoulder as the car carried you both toward the hospital, away from the shadows of that place.

In the quiet, with the hum of the engine and the soft darkness around you, it was just the two of you, a fragile peace holding steady as you waited for help, the tension of the night still lingering but softened by the small, steady assurance of his presence in your lap, the nauseating fear as you whispered again,

“Stay with me, Aki.”

The moment you had been cleared to leave the hospital some three or four hours later, you found out what room Aki was staying in and rushed right over. There he was – stable, albeit not in very good shape. He was still asleep (which the attending nurse had said something about earlier, something along the lines of a medically-induced sleep). His skin was a little more colorful now, but still pale. He was donning the same hospital gown you had been wearing a few hours earlier, hair down out of it’s typical style and splayed out over the pillow. His vitals were being monitored on a screen on the other side of his hospital bed – an IV dripped syrupy-looking medicine into his veins.

He was achingly beautiful, even now. You stood off to the side of his bed, arms crossed nervously over your chest, fingers being chewed by your teeth. You didn’t know how long you had been waiting there – hell, you hadn’t even checked your phone since you had been discharged.

A pit in your stomach made it impossible to eat, even if you had certainly worked up quite the appetite. You didn’t want to leave his bedside, even for a moment. Any moment, he could slip away – slip through your fingertips and leave you for good (even if the doctors told you he was stable).

You stood at Aki’s bedside, rooted in place, the room spinning slowly around you as the weight of your own feelings sank in, cold and unstoppable. You’d been forced to confront it back there in the rubble, but now, with him lying so still before you, there was no denying it. Aki was the love of your life.

The realization hit you again like a wave crashing over your head, pulling you under. He was it—the person you’d been circling, moving toward all this time without even knowing it. And if you lost him, you didn’t know how you’d survive it. The thought alone was enough to make the air feel thin, the walls closing in as you struggled to catch a full breath.

Aki looked almost serene under the fluorescent hospital lights, his face softened and bare, no longer hidden behind his usual quiet guard. His hair lay messily across the pillow, spilling across his forehead, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks. He looked painfully beautiful, achingly real in a way that left you feeling raw, vulnerable. And you knew then that you had been clinging to him, maybe all along, without even realizing it. There was something in his presence that grounded you, something you couldn’t name, but now that you had it, you didn’t know how you’d live without it. Without him.

A hollow ache twisted in your stomach, and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, as if you could keep yourself from unraveling entirely. What if you’d lost him before you ever had the chance to tell him—before he knew what he meant to you? The thought stabbed at you, fierce and unrelenting. You tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t here, where he’d slipped away in those moments of silence and chaos, and the thought alone felt like stepping into an endless void, cold and unforgiving.

What would you do if he left, if he was gone? How would you wake up each morning knowing he wasn’t there, wasn’t just a few steps away, grounding you in the only way he knew how—without even trying?

You swallowed hard, biting down against the well of emotions, feeling the sting of it all build in your throat. Your fingers trembled, itching to reach out, to grasp his hand, to feel the pulse of life beneath his skin. But you couldn’t bear it—couldn’t bear to feel the fragility of him, couldn’t stand the thought of his warmth fading, of his presence slipping away from you forever.

It was the one thing you couldn’t lose. Not him.

And as you stood there, heart pounding, head spinning, you swore that if he woke up, you’d find a way to make him understand that—how much he meant to you, how deeply he had become a part of you. How he was the only one who ever truly had loved you.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. Without waiting for an answer, the door slid open, and in stepped Tanimoto, brown eyes somber like he knew he was the last person you wanted to see.

You looked at him, and suddenly, your mouth ran dry. What more was there to say? One look into his eyes, and you knew there was no need to clarify.

He understood, now. Everything.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” You said back, voice hoarse from all of the crying you had done before he came, from shouting Aki’s name the moment that wall blew up. “How’d the mission go?”

It was then that you realized – you couldn’t possibly have been less concerned with his well being on the mission since he had left you there with Aki in your arms, too preoccupied with the state of your lover to care.

“It went alright,” He sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t dare to move any closer, standing a considerable distance away from you, like he wasn’t sure whether or not approaching you would be the best idea. “It wound up being the school lunch devil, or some shit like that. A real small fry, but he wound up having a piece of the gun devil’s flesh. That would explain the…” He glanced over at Captain Hayakawa’s sleeping form, wincing at his condition, “Explosion.”

There was a pause. A long, drawn out silence, during which neither of you made eye contact. Your husband was the first one to breach it.

“Look, I was going to apologize about what I said last night, but… after today– after what I saw back there, I… I’ve been thinking of what I’d say to you,” He finally – finally – approached the elephant in the room, avoiding your gaze the entire time (not that it left Aki). He paused again to release a trembling breath. “Am I… mistaken? About you and him?”

Your eyes began to water before you knew it. It was as if everything from the past few hours – past few days had finally come crashing down on you. In one heart-aching moment, the world you had spent all of your time building up – the lies, all of it – came to a standstill.

And it was then that you realized you didn’t have the strength to lie to him anymore. Not when the love of your life was sitting right there.

So you swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a moment to build up the icy resolve you desperately needed before you answered slowly.

“No. You’re not mistaken,” You breathed. “I’m his mistress. I’m having an affair.”

And there it was.

The words hung in the air, heavy and irreversible, cutting through the sterile quiet of the hospital room. You could see the impact ripple across his face, a flicker of pain breaking through his carefully maintained calm before he composed himself again, pressing his tongue into his cheek as he nodded, slow and mechanical. The look in his eyes sharpened, darkening to something you could hardly recognize, and a tremor of fear crawled up your spine.

You had expected this moment to feel like some kind of release, like pulling off a bandage and letting the wound breathe. But as you looked at him, at the silent fury and restrained hurt carved into his features, a different kind of fear settled over you—one that made your body tense, instinctively bracing for whatever he might do next.

You couldn’t stop the shaking. It started in your hands, then moved through your shoulders, until your whole body felt unsteady, as if it could collapse under the weight of what you’d just admitted. The question pressed itself into your mind, unbidden: would he hit you? Here, in this sterile, fluorescent-lit space with Aki lying beside you? It felt like a violation, the idea of violence in a place that was supposed to be safe, where people came to heal. But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it wasn’t impossible.

To your shock, though, he didn’t raise a hand. He only let out a slow, exhausted breath, his shoulders slumping, as though the anger was something that would consume him from within rather than burst out. "I knew it," he muttered, his voice tight and shaking. He swallowed hard, but there was no break, no moment of hesitation as he spoke again. “I knew it from the start, but I thought—” He cut himself off, staring at you with that cold, assessing gaze that felt like he was searching for any sign of regret, any hint that you cared about what this was doing to him. “You don’t even sound the least bit sorry about it, do you?”

There it was—a blow sharper than any slap or strike, his words digging in deep, meant to hurt. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came, just a hollow, empty ache that left you frozen. Because the truth was, no matter how you tried to twist it, he was right. You weren’t sorry. Not about loving Aki, not about the way you felt when you looked at him, even lying in a hospital bed, his face softened and beautiful in the stark light.

“I’m not. I don’t regret it,” You retorted, a little bolder, now that the cat was finally out of the bag. What more was there to lose? Straightening your shoulders, you added, “We’re in love.”

He glanced at Aki. A cold, humorless laugh left his lips. When he glanced back at you, there wasn’t even an ounce of affection for you – all that was left was hatred, the same hatred you felt for him.

Before you could part your lips to speak again, he was craning his hand back – then there was a familiar sting.

He had hit you. Again.

And the worst part was that you couldn’t even bring yourself to oppose it. A moment of sickening silence passed before he spoke again.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” He spoke calmly, calculatedly, but you could hear the anger that seeped through his words. “This will be the last time you see him. You are to never speak of him again, or of this, and in exchange, I’ll let you keep the money and the house… and your life back at home.”

You swallowed, refusing to let him see the full extent of the hurt. It was nothing you hadn’t weathered before. And besides, the pain only sharpened the resolve forming inside you, stealing something that had felt soft, uncertain before. You weren’t backing down this time.

He watched you with an icy expression, something gleaming in his eyes that made you feel small, like a child being reprimanded, caught out in a lie you could barely understand. You gnawed the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your eyes stung. He’d hit you, yes, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the hollowed-out feeling that had grown deeper with each beat of this tense, bitter silence.

His voice was sharp as he leaned in, his words clipped and venomous. “You can see him this one final time, and then it’s over,” he sneered. “That’s what you wanted, right? To see him?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and without thinking, you shot back, “Yes, but not to say goodbye.”

He stilled, his expression darkening, mouth twisting into something half incredulous, half enraged. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

But you’d started now, and there was no way to take it back. The words spilled out, gathering momentum as you spoke, voice steadying with each syllable. “Yes,” you repeated, stronger this time, voice firm. “But not to say goodbye.”

He looked at you like you were unhinged, something unfamiliar and unfathomable to him, and his lip curled with distaste. “You’re insane,” he spat, barely keeping his voice in check. “You’re hopeless. You’re married. It’s time to wake up and go home.”

The word married twisted inside you, feeling more like a chain than a bond, something cold and suffocating. And in that instant, as he spat the word out, you knew there was no future left here, no home in this hollow arrangement he was calling marriage.

And then, you dropped the second bomb of the evening.

“I’m not going home with you.” Your voice was quiet but clear, the words like iron. You felt something break free within you, some final tether to the life you’d been clinging to.

“I want a divorce.”

a/n: MUAHHHHHAHAHAAA!! OH MY GODDDD. it feels so good to finally write those words, you guys have NO idea. sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger, tho, you know i couldn't resist. To think that hours and hours and hours of my time have been poured into reaching THIS moment. Omg. We're reaching the climax of the story! Please let me know what you guys want to see happen before the story ends in the comments, or just drop by and say hello. I hope yall are as hyped for the next chapter as i am. Will y/n stand her ground? Or will she pussy out? Who knows (I do)? Stay tuned!!! Q of the Day: have you heard Rauw Alejandro's new album? (If not, what are you doing?)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#shameless!#aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #aki fluff #aki smut #denji #aki hayakawa

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clubsmarties · 6 hours ago

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He grinned even though she couldn't see him he still did it. "I was getting to the hello just needed to catch you off guard first." His laughter was easy going and flowed like a river. "A National Park, not just any old one. Lassen Volcanic National Park. The meadows were freckled with wildflowers and those lakes are so crystal clear. I mean, I know I wasn't there for the sights but it was refreshing to see a familiar sight to home. Water wise anyway." He sighed and shook his head. "Truly unexpected way to start Monday morning with hearing grab your boots we going hiking. My legs are killing me though."

Hearing Liz on the other side of the call made him smile. He knew he'd missed her but it didn't click just how much until he heard her voice and consequently her teasing banter. He rolled his eyes as he chuckled and sighed. "He wishes he was this cool. Actually, we do have a UFO department did you know that? Fun fact of the night. I may just request a transfer. Thank you for the reminder. Alien life expert." Wally couldn't help but laugh at his own lame joke.

Getting the picture of his pup made him smile as he chuckled and talked to Dolly knowing she could hear him. "There's my precious girl." he cooed and saved the picture. "Thank you again for keeping her company. She looks very happy and very well loved." That pause made him open his eyes and frown. "That bad huh?" He wasn't sure if it was the tone of her voice or that pause that gave it away to him but he picked up on something in her voice. "For what its worth im glad you got my furry best friend to at least get a smile out of you." His dog was good at that. "Timezones you say, huh it's the first I'm hearing about it."

"Oh that tells me you have not had a moment to sit. Manoa Falls? It has a pretty name. Tell me about it. What did you like the most? A guard dog? Has she already found her new calling? Is this your way of breaking it to me? I'm glad that she's been having a ball of a week so far. I hope that when people asked if she was yours you said yes." He wouldn't have minded it either. Dolly took to Liz so he knew the dog liked her.

Wally sighed and knew that cop bullies usually tended to set their sights on a new target, the ones that came after them first. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do let me know." Just by the sound of her voice he knew she didn't want to dwell on this so he switched the topic. "Messy for sure. It turned out that the sheriff for the county lost the paperwork so Sunday when I landed had me at the station waiting for seven hours to see one page of a report that someone actually had saved. The rest needed to be requested from the San Diego office. Not only that but they had three suspects that all had alibis but stories didn't align correctly. So, now we have to trace all three of their footsteps. First guy had us at the National Park. The other was the aquarium and the last one which is my least favorite will have us at a strip club talking to some of the employees there. All this because no one thought to pull fingerprints. One deputy touched a bloody cloth with his hands." Wally sighed. "Upside is that they're all cooperating."

"Why are you so sure that Wildfire will hate you? Do you not trust me? If I had a doubt that she'd hurt you I wouldn't even have you consider this. It'll be like when you met Dolly. Wildfire will fall in love with you. Its not hard to do you know?" he rolled his eyes and laughed. "You are always thinking worst case scenarios. A pony? We can put you on ponies but technically Wildfire is a baby. You're scared of a little baby." His laughter wasn't mean spirited just amused. "It is a ranch. Fine we are adding feeding goats to the list. They jump up just FYI."

His sleepy little laughter rung out and nodded against his pillow. "Mhmm. The big old circle isn't there anymore but that's because city didn't let them build it. Said it was too big. But still there." Her laughter made him hum in content as he had forgotten how melodic a sound it was. "It's actually a funny story. The guy you were looking is friends with suspect number two. They just didn't put two and two together until I saw the report."

Wally switched to video as he had missed seeing her face but could use the pretense of seeing Dolly. He smiled sleepily as his eyes were the only thing visible. "They said it was Marilyn Monroe's ghost but I know that's false. She haunts the Roosevelt and we're so far away from that hotel. I think it's a poltergeist, might be, I hear rustling more than I see any figures pop up. I'm not scared," a little lie. "I just don't fuck with them. What if you inadvertently piss them off because you step on their favorite spot on the floor? And then you have one hanging on you and you have no idea how to begin to apologize." Shaking his head his eyes sparkled with amusement as he moved slightly so his long bang would fall to the side inside of on top of his eye. "Do you believe in them?"

" Well, hello to you too." Elizabeth chuckled as she plopped onto her bed before Dolly joined her. It was not like they bothered with greetings most times, but she couldn't help but poke. And it seemed like Dolly could either hear him, could tell by the way she spoke that it was him on the other line, whatever it was she nuzzled against her and looked up towards the phone. As she listened to him, she pet her head and gave her a look that said that she'd let her hear him in a moment once he was done talking. "Tell me where did they take you this time."

When he had left, she thought it would be a bit of freedom, no more him popping up randomly during her day. Or reaching out to bounce ideas off of during a case.

"Okay,Fox Mulder," she teased. "You're not in that department focus on your case."

On day one though, she realized how, lonely quiet, her days were without him. Charlie would check in from time to time as he usually did, but it wasn't the same. She would never admit it of course, but she liked the calls. She hated that he had seen through her lies and had Jamie deliver food when he dropped off Dolly, upset at herself, that he had seen through her stupid lie.

"Great, she's right here actually looks like she's missing you. Here," She took the phone away from her ear for a moment to take a picture of Dolly on the couch and send it his way before returning to the call. "It's been," a pause as she thought it over. "a week."

He was tired, he was babbling about time. "Yea, you know in all my travels I learned about this crazy thing called time zones. Pretty crazy." Hand absentmindedly petting Dolly began to scratch her behind the ears, as she decided to stop being so mean if only for a moment. "What haven't we done? And yeah, I found a new trail, well new to me anyway, Manoa Falls. It's really pretty. Some people thought she was mine and she had the best time on the trail. And a couple of people that came into the office thought she was some new guard dog of sorts." Smiling she looked down at her companion of these last couple of days and nuzzled down against her.

"Oh, him," her mood soured slightly. "It looks like it'll all be settled out of court with everything I provided, but he found a new target to aim his ire at." Sighing, she leaned back into a reclining position with her pillows underneath her. "But tell me about your case. Was it as bad as you thought it was going to be?"

Oh, adventure week. She had forgotten about that. Part of her had hoped he had too. "Not this again. Wildfire will hate me. And there's a first for everything, watch she'd bite my hand." Was she making excuses? Of course. Were they partly true to her fear of anything that she couldn't talk to, convince to see her way or seduce? Damn right. "Why not a pony? Ponies are nice and small, right? Or a goat? You said this was a ranch right? I could feed a goat. Or chickens!"

"Randy's still around?" That drew a laugh from her, she had seen cities change, towns become cities, and other places become living cemeteries, the fact that some things didn't change amused her. Not as much as what he said about a fax and it pertaining to her case. A raised eyebrow, she began to settle into a lying position, finding tiredness sinking through her bones. "You said that they needed you with their case, how could they possibly help me on mine from an ocean away?"

Laying on her side, she cuddled up against Dolly and placed the phone between her and the pillow. She didn't want to think about work and cases anymore. "Tell me about the haunted hallway. Are we talking full poltergeist or spectral nuisance? You never struck me as someone being scared of a little ghost. "

#bordeaux |▪︎main ▪︎|#okay good lol #oh pls you came at us with this tear filled feels inducing moment #falling asleep on the phone im fine 😭

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mybiasisexo · 2 days ago

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Entangled - Part 11

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language Word Count: 8.1k Author Notes: DOUBLE UPDATE BICTHESSSS!!!!! ok this is my big sorry!!! i was gonna post this earlier today but then coachella happened lol and my priorities changed, but we're back!!! tbh....im so scared to post this 😀. Its just a yap fest if im being honest, so if youre not into that....my bad. but ok yes ill stop blabbin. l adore you all pls enjoy 😩

It’s another hour before you leave the restaurant, impossibly full and content.

The ride back is silent. Most of the crew pass out as soon as you’re on the road, Seulgi being one of them. She uses your shoulder as a pillow. It doesn’t look comfortable, but she’s drooling into your clavicle, so it must be. You can’t sleep, so you quietly watch the beautiful dark scenery, ignoring the occasional prickles on your skin from being watched.

Once you’re back at the hotel, you start saying your goodbyes in front of the van. Everyone’s leaving at different times, so it makes sense to do your farewells now while you’re all present.

It’s bittersweet.

Jongdae is the first to approach you, collecting you tightly into his arms.

“Tell Eunhee I missed her this weekend, and congrats,” you tell him.

“Will do and thank you.”

He squeezes the shit out of you, making you yelp in pain. In retaliation, you smack his shoulder and he hisses, escaping to the next person before you can strike again.

You’re rolling your eyes as Jongin makes his way over, chuckling at his friends’ silly antics.

“He’s mean,” you whine.

“I know,” he coos as he hugs you. You instantly relax in his comforting arms. He really should start selling these things.

“It was good seeing you,” he says, making you sway.

“You too,” you say. “I’m sorry for getting you in this mess.”

“Don’t be.” He repeats. He tightens his arms. “It was bound to happen. I still believe it can work out.”

You smile pathetically. As if he can sense it, Jongin kisses the top of your head before separating.

“Make that runway your bitch,” you tell him. He smirks and bows in thanks.

Baekhyun quickly replaces him, pulling you into a firm hug.

“You’ve made this trip far more eventful than it needed to be,” he says in your ear.

“It wasn’t my intention,” you huff into his shirt.

He chuckles. “Look, I know things didn’t end on a good note, but I promise….” He leans back far enough to look into your eyes and says your name. “It can be. Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you, okay?”

The urge to cry hits you hard and you give him a watery smile. “Thank you, Baekhyun. For everything. I’ve gained some respect for you.”

His jutting jaw is the only acknowledgement he gives your last statement. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want my friends to be happy.”

“You’re hogging her.” You’re being yanked away from Baekhyun and he lets go without a fight, waving goodbye before heading inside the hotel.

“Do we have to say our goodbyes right now?” You ask, staring up at the best friend who you aren’t going back to a shared apartment with. “I’m going to cry.”

Sehun sighs before wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t be a baby.”

You’re already fighting tears, and the lump in your throat grows larger. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I know,” and he sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to get choked up. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll visit Seoul soon. Most likely for Jongdae’s baby shower. I'll even bring Kyungsoo. I know you’ve been curious about him.”

You laugh through your now falling tears. “It’s not me who’s been curious about your little friend. I’m sure Seulgi will be pleased to hear she’ll finally be introduced.”

“Why do you think I’ve been stalling for so long?”

You share a laugh. “Okay. Jongdae’s baby shower isn’t that far away. I can handle that.”

“That works for you?” He asks sarcastically.

“It does. Just make sure to not leave without saying goodbye again, okay?”

He groans like you’re inconveniencing him, but whispers into your hair. “I won’t.”

Satisfied, you break the hug. Now that your arms are free, you wipe your damp face, laughing at how ridiculous you are. Sehun sucks his teeth in faux disapproval. Shaking his head, he lifts a hand in an attempt to help dry your face, but you knock it away. You’re about to tell him to screw off, but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

You turn towards the sound and startle slightly when you see Chanyeol standing a few steps away. His hands are deep in his pockets as his eyes flicker between Sehun and you. It’s then you notice just how quiet the portico has become, and check your surroundings. Only the three of you and Seulgi are left outside the hotel, everyone else retiring to their rooms. Seulgi is a few feet away, as though she was also leaving but decided to linger for a bit. When your eyes lock, she throws you a knowing grin.

“Sehun,” she calls. “Let me buy you a shot.”

Sehun seems to catch on quickly. “Oh! Can’t say no to a free drink, can I?”

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, conveying an important message. ‘Talk to him and get your closure.’

He pats you before sauntering over to Seulgi, throwing an arm around her shoulders to drag her into the hotel.

Now alone, you give in and face Chanyeol.

There isn’t a flicker of the animosity or detachment you saw on the boardwalk the night before, and you aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. He’s admiring you, not with disgust or lust, just looking. The lack of emotion has you curious about what's going on in his head.

“Everyone’s said goodbye except us,” he finally says.

You lift an eyebrow. “Does last night not count?”

He frowns. “Do you want it to?”

“No, it’s not that!” You quickly correct. “It’s just that my decisions always hurt you in the end, so I understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

Your eyes water at the thought of going back to strangers with Chanyeol, of losing him again. But, you know you don’t deserve to ask him to stay. If he’s done trying with you, you’ll accept it without complaint. it’s the least you can do after the pain you’ve caused him these past couple days.

He turns away from you, as if he can’t stand to see your tears. One of his hands pats at his thigh as he squints at the beach in the distance.

“We’ve both made poor decisions.” he sighs heavily. “But yesterday was really really bad. I no longer know if there can be an ‘us’ after this. Maybe you're right. Maybe we’ve grown too far apart, and the people we are today aren’t able to love each other like we used to.”

He takes a deep breath and you brace yourself for his rejection. “It wasn’t until dinner that it really hit me, that today is our last day here. I don’t want to leave, to go back to Seoul, and continue living as I did before the wedding. I can’t. Not after seeing you again. I don’t want to leave Jeju with any regrets, and if we leave things like this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Me too,” you admit. “I’ll regret it too. I already regret so much.”

“Do you regret us?”

“No. Never. I regret where we are now, but I’ll never regret you, Park Chanyeol.”

Your throat tightens from the confession, hating how it sounds like a farewell on your tongue.

You swear his eyes gloss over, but he hides it quickly by turning his head to look behind him. When he faces you again, his features are under control. He tilts his head in the direction he just checked. “Walk with me?”

This is it, and you know it. The last chance with Chanyeol. The inevitable talk you’d been skirting around all weekend. Now is the chance to have your closure, and Chanyeol is giving it to you. If you decline, what is left of your bridge will be burnt for good, keeping you both on opposite ends with no chance of return.

You’re relieved that he offers to walk. When you imagine this conversation, it’s always in Chanyeol’s suite, and you’re honestly not strong enough to ever go back there. The memories are too fresh, and you have zero faith in your self control when it comes to him.

So, you eagerly agree to his request and follow him as he starts walking down the sidewalk. It’s silent as he leads you away from the hotel, taking a path that heads towards the city not too far away. Chanyeol’s steps seem sure, and it makes you wonder if he has a certain place in mind.

He answers your unasked question five minutes later, when you take notice of a faint glowing in the distance. Chanyeol throws a couple nervous glances your way, and the shift in his demeanor has you alert.

You walk a few more feet before you can fully see a white gazebo on the edge of the sandy beach. Golden fairy lights dangle off the sides, making a surreal romantic atmosphere.

You stop dead in your tracks. Chanyeol halts beside you, intently watching your reaction.

“Do you remember this place?” he asks, voice thick with controlled emotion.

You do.

You climb up the steps into the gazebo. A wooden bench wraps around the walls and vines with pink flowers curl around the thin poles connecting to the rounded roof. You stop a little before the center and turn to Chanyeol who stayed back, allowing you a moment to yourself.

“This is where you proposed to me.”

The lights reflect off his round eyes, softening them. Or maybe it’s the memory you both share. A day that you will never forget.

It was your senior trip. Come to think of it, there are many similarities to the one you’re currently on. All of your college friends came to Jeju and stayed at the same hotel, thanks to Junmyeon. You were in a different suite that time, with a different roommate. For five days, the gang ran around the city, exploring and partying. Basking in the last moments you all had before fully joining the real world. Well, Jongdae, Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Chanyeol had already graduated, but that didn’t stop them from acting like it was their last moments as well. Speaking of Chanyeol, the two of you were deeply in love by that point. You were that nauseating couple that would get lost in your own little world, gravitating around each other in your own solar system. The last day of the trip, he had talked you into having a girl’s day with Seulgi. You were hesitant, because you wanted to spend the last day with him, but he assured you that you’d have him all to yourself that night.

That was enough to have Seulgi drag you around town, taking you to get pampered with a spa and convincing you to let her buy you a dress that she was adamant you had to wear later that night. Little did you know she was in on a plan being prepared behind your back.

When the sun was setting, you followed her to where you thought you were going to meet up with everyone else for dinner, and were confused when she dragged you to the middle of the beach. That was when you spotted the gazebo. There were pink and white balloons on the far side across the entrance. And in the center, dressed in a fancy black suit, stood Park Chanyeol.

You glared accusingly at Seulgi, who just laughed and shoved you into the gazebo. Your heart raced dangerously fast, nearly drowning out the speech Chanyeol prepared for you. It was beautiful. Chanyeol, ever the poet, poured his heart to you, tearing up as he explained his endless love and devotion.

Then he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pants. You’d later chastise him for not keeping it in its box. He held it up and it shimmered against the lights surrounding you, but it paled in comparison to the shimmering in Chanyeol’s eyes.

‘Will you continue to be the melody of my life’s song?’ He asked. ‘Will you marry me?’

You were screaming yes before he could finish his question. His smile was blinding as he slid the ring onto your finger and you pounced on him. He held you tightly, lifting you up with him as he stood, and buried his face into your neck as you both cried. You hadn’t noticed all of your friends poking around the outside of the gazebo, popping streamers and cheering as you held onto your soulmate and cried with a happiness and love you knew only a few people have genuinely felt. You were so lucky to have Park Chanyeol. You were so lucky to be loved by him….

You blink.

“That was the best day of my life,” he whispers.

“Mine too,” you admit.

You turn away, not able to handle the tenderness he carries.

He tentatively enters the gazebo, sitting on the bench near the entrance. “I stumbled across it after our… conversation last night. It felt fitting. A reminder of why we’re here.”

Indeed. This was the beginning of the end of you. It makes sense to end this trip here, to end your relationship here. If that’s what you were doing.

You wrap your arms around your stomach, holding yourself together because you’re already at your limit and know you’re about to shatter. Your back still faces Chanyeol, not ready to see the way the fairy lights warm his handsome face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have told you where I was taking you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” you assure. It’s not a lie, but it’s not completely true. You aren’t upset with him for bringing you here. If anything, you need to see this place. You finally turn to face him and the stark difference of how he looks now compared to the last time you saw him under this roof is startling. He wore no fancy suit, only casual khaki pants and a cream button down shirt. His hair blows gently in the breeze, longer and lighter than on that day, and his expression has lost the confidence and joy that was hard to hide then. He is now a shadow of the man that proposed to you, he is a man who has lost the one thing he thought he’d have forever. “It’s just a lot.”

He nods in agreement. “Do you want to leave?”

“No. I agree with you. This is the perfect spot. We can talk here if that’s what you want.” Again, you make sure to let him know that you’re doing this on his terms. He’s in charge here. You’ll be truthful, you’ll answer any question honestly, and you’ll let him be the one to decide how this trip ends.

“Where should we start?” he asks as you make your way over to sit beside him. You make sure to leave some space, knowing how distance can skew your train of thought around him.

“Let’s start with this,” you begin. “What do you want from this conversation?”

“I just want us to not avoid each other the next time we’re in the same room.”

“You think we can be friends?” You ask, genuinely curious of his answer.

He shrugs feebly. “If that’s all we can be. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not in it at all.”

You’re not a fan of his answer. Earlier, you told him that you didn’t think you could ever be his friend, and you still believe that. The thought of him actually moving on one day, and having to watch him regard somebody else the way he did you has your heart squeezing in agony. Seeing him with Yerim has been difficult as it is, imagining him with someone he actually loves leaves you disturbed.

Tell him, the Baekhyun in your head urges. Tell him how you really feel.

You already tried to last night. You still have so much love for Chanyeol, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. There’s still too much left unsaid, blocking the path to a future that can possibly end with you back together. The ball that’s always been in your court has now rolled over onto his side, and you aren’t sure if he’s going to pick it up or kick it away and finally put this long game to rest.

But he deserves that choice. Chanyeol has been so strong for you. He’s given you up multiple times, has had his heart broken because of you far more times than you have by him. You owe it to him to choose what he wants for himself. As much as you’d rather part ways on good terms and continue living as you have–without him in your life–if Chanyeol still wants you in his, you’ll suck it up and be present. Because you know for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same with no complaint.

Still hurts like a bitch though.

Not yet, you tell your inner Baekhyun, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. You don’t need his sass right now.

“If that’s what you want,” you push through the tightening of your throat. “Then we should start off easy. How did you end up at Junmyeon’s wedding with Yerim as your date?”

He coughs a shocked laugh. “If that’s the easiest topic, we’re going to be here til the sun rises.”

You shrug a shoulder. “That’s fine with me.”

He watches you for a moment before dropping his head to look at his hands that lay limply between his parted thighs. “As soon as I got Junmyeon’s announcement, I thought of you. I knew you were going to be there, and I couldn’t shake this feeling that you were going to bring a date. The idea of seeing you being happy with your new boyfriend, while I had no one, made me sick. I began to panic, because I didn’t want to be the loser who hadn’t moved on. I wanted you to think I no longer cared. I needed a date.”

That makes you pity him a bit, and you feel bad for calling him an asshole. The intentions behind it are anything but. He was trying to protect himself, and that’s nothing to make fun of.

“And then you met Yerim.”

“And then I met Yerim.” He sinks further into the bench and your ears perk at the name. It hits you then that it’s the first time you’ve heard Chanyeol speak her name. Was he being respectful towards you by neglecting to voice the name of the ‘other’ woman in your picture? Or maybe that was his poor attempt at pretending she didn’t exist while in your presence. Intrigued, you study the way the syllables left his mouth. It’s said with contrition, and that jealous part of you that you’re surprised to still find vanishes with content.

“I don’t know if you remember,” he continues, unaware of the healing already being done to you. “But she works at the cafe near my job. If I’m being honest, I’d been going there for months and hadn’t paid her any mind. I just knew she made the best Americano I’ve ever had in my life! But, after some time, it was kind of obvious she had a little crush on me. Although I was flattered, I never pursued it because I was never interested. That didn’t stop her from being bold. She always made a point to have a conversation with me, even when they were slammed, and I guess she wore me down. Our little talks started becoming the highlights of my days, and I started paying her more attention.”

His story brings to mind a few times Yerim mentioned a cute customer to you. How wild is it that Chanyeol is the customer she’d always tell you about.

“She is funny,” you acknowledge begrudgingly. “And pretty.”

“She is,” he agrees, and you guess your jealousy hasn’t vanished after all. “But, that’s not what ultimately drew me to her.”

“What was it then?”

He avoids your gaze. “She reminded me of you.”

“Oh!” Okay, now your jealousy is officially gone.

“Yeah. Oh. The more Yerim and I talked, the more she sounded like you. Now it makes sense, because you’re close friends so you must’ve rubbed off on her. But, at the time, it really felt like I was getting a second chance. How could I not fall for her when she acted so much like you?”

Your eyebrows raise at that. You’ve never noticed your influence on Yerim, but apparently it’s strong enough to catch your ex’s attention. In a strange way, you are the reason they got together. You’re not sure how to react to the fact. Part of you is sympathetic towards them both, at the fact Chanyeol only liked Yerim because of you. But you’re also flattered and a bit proud for ruining him so much.

Even though you think you know the answer, this conversation is all about honesty, so you have to confirm something. “Did you like her? Like that? You’ve been pretty adamant about her not being your girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t,” he’s still quick to deny. “And I didn’t. At the start I thought I did. Well, I thought I could fall for her. Maybe if we had time before the wedding to actually get to know each other outside of the cafe, I would have. But the timing was bad. She tried, she really did. But I was too distracted by what was about to happen to give her my full attention, and once I saw you, all thoughts of Yerim went out the window.”

“That’s why you kicked her out?”

“It is. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He backtracks, continuing his story where he left off. “The main reason for me being so adamant on bringing a date was to prove to everybody, including myself, that I was completely over you. But, the fact that I started pursuing someone because they reminded me of you should have been the first sign I wasn’t. Still, I ignored it, and when the wedding got brought up, I saw my perfect opportunity. She agreed all too easily.”

“Like fate.”

“It felt like that. Like it was too perfect. Baekhyun said it was a dumb idea. He told me I wasn’t going to get you back that way. I told him I didn’t want you back. As you can imagine, he didn’t believe me.”

“Did you even believe you?”

“I did,” he defends, slightly offended. “I thought enough time had passed, and thinking about you didn’t hurt as much as it had. Sure, I didn’t know if I was capable of ever loving someone as much as I loved you, and I had built some walls after us, but I was ready to try again. And I was going to prove it during dinner. I wanted to make you feel the same as I did. I figured we both could suffer a little, and I…I wanted to hurt you. But, even though I knew you were going to be there, I still wasn’t prepared for the shock of finally seeing you in person. All that bravado I had vanished the moment I saw you. Especially after I realized you did not, in fact, have a date.”

“Technically, I did,” you correct. “Seulgi was my date.”

“Should I have been worried about her?” he asks skeptically.

You can’t miss the opportunity to tease him. “A lot can happen in a couple years. Who knows? We could’ve been inlaws.”

His face pinches in disgust. “That’s a sick joke, Me….”

He lets the petname die on his tongue, unsure if that’s something he still wants to call you.

“I deserve that,” you mumble and attempt a reassuring smile. He takes one look at your stretched lips and immediately starts nervously nibbling on his own. You sense his internal battle, fighting the instinct to defend you while also agreeing with what you said.

The light atmosphere you created dissipates as quickly as it comes.

He clears his throat. “Anyways, that’s why I brought Yerim. I wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“And did you get the reaction you wanted?” You ask.

“In the grand scheme of things, I guess I did. But at the moment, I didn’t think so. It felt more like it backfired on me. That whole dinner I tried to taunt you by using Yerim, but you never took the bait. You didn’t care at all. That hurt more than I’d like to admit. Especially because your presence was eating me up inside.”

“I’m a better actress than I give myself credit for if you couldn’t see how affected I was. I pretty much went through exactly what you were afraid of happening to you, with an extra brutal layer of personally knowing the date. Trust me when I say you succeeded.”

“It doesn’t feel like a victory,” he shares. “As soon as dinner was over, I realized Baekhyun was right, bringing Yerim was dumb. I was overwhelmed with all these old resurfacing feelings, and all I could think about was you. How was I going to see you again, and what would I say when I did. I made some pretty rash decisions, like kicking Yerim out of our room because I didn’t want you to think we were sleeping together, and then forgetting to have breakfast with her the next morning like I promised because I talked to you the night before. Our conversation was proof that I wasn’t alone in these old feelings, and gave me the courage to attempt to pursue you. It wasn’t a lot, and you were really drunk, but you kept giving me this look I was very familiar with, and I couldn’t deny it if I tried.”

“A look?” You question, having no idea what he’s referring to. He’s never told you about a look before.

“Yes.” He sounds tortured thinking about it. “You get this look on your face whenever you want me to lean down to kiss you. These past few days, we’d argue, you’d tell me how wrong this situation was, and then you’d stare up at me with those eyes of yours. I could never forget that expression, it’s one of my favorites. So, I’d try to oblige you, and at the last second, you’d push me away, and I’d go back to my room and yell in frustration. It was frustrating, knowing you still wanted me, even if you weren’t aware of it, all because of the way you’d look at me.”

Hell. He really can read you like a book.

“So, you ended things with her because of the way I was looking at you?” You confirm.

“I broke up with Yerim because I was leading her on,” he corrects. “But also, I can admit that I was being selfish, and she was in the way of what I truly wanted. You. I knew with her out of the picture, you’d be less…resistant.”

“What did you expect would happen?” You implore. “You’d tell me you broke things off with her and I’d come running back into your arms? Was that the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Maybe that you’d lower your guard and stop fighting me. But, I mean, you did run back to me not long after she left….”

You narrow your eyes. “That was because of the wedding.”

“I thought we were being honest with each other?”

That shuts you up. He knows he got you there, if the smug look on his face is any indicator.

“Fine,” you relent. “I most likely wouldn’t have done that had Yerim still been here.”

He bows his head in gratitude for your honesty.

“Alright,” you drawl, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s your turn to ask me a question.”

Chanyeol inhales deeply, and you know it’s going to be a difficult one.

“Last night,” he starts, and you already dread what’s next. “You said that you couldn’t get over what happened the last time we were together.”

“I did.”

“It made me realize that I hurt you way more than I thought I did. You’d mentioned it a couple times, but I didn’t get it… not until now.”

“I may have called off the engagement,” you say. “But it was you, Chanyeol, who ultimately broke us up.”

“Is that how you see it?” He asks, a darkness creeping into his tone.

“How else am I?” You retort. “I asked to get back together and you said yes.”

“I didn’t realize….” He shook his head in denial. “I wasn’t listening.”

“I gathered,” you scoff, growing irritated. “That day I had worked up the courage to call you. It had been a year since we’d last seen each other–”

“Ten and a half months. But who’s counting?” he cuts you off to say.

“Ten and a half months,” you correct. “I felt so stupid because of that. I made such a big show of leaving you, just to beg for you back not even a year later.”

“I wouldn’t have seen it that way,” he says. “I was waiting for that call. To me, those ten and a half months felt more like years.”

“I wish I’d known that then, because I was so nervous. I feared the worst. That you would be angry at me for ending things just to come back so soon. Or worse. That you’d somehow moved on during that time, or realized that you were no longer in love with me. It was that fear that drove me to come up with a cover, an excuse to get you to come over.”

“The ring,” he realizes, jaw clenching at the grim reminder.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “I had it all planned out. I’d tell you that you needed to come over so that you could take it back, but then I’d confess and ask for another chance.”

“You could’ve just told me you missed me,” he says. “It would’ve been just as effective. Actually, more. I would’ve been there faster.”

“I couldn’t just tell you that,” you explain. “I didn’t want to come off desperate. But, I admit, using the ring was the worst thing I could’ve done. I swear I had no intention of giving it back.”

“You were very convincing in acting like it was,” he mutters. “I didn’t even have time to ask how you’d been before you were sitting it on the table. I was hoping you weren’t being serious. But as soon as I saw you, it was obvious you’d changed. It hadn’t been that long, but you were different. You didn’t want me anymore.”

“I didn’t need you anymore, Chanyeol. I still wanted you, if later that night was any indicator.”

“You couldn’t stop raving about how much better your life was now that I was no longer in it! I had to listen to you go on and on about your great new life without me, all while staring at your engagement ring. It was the first time I’d ever seen it not on your finger, and it felt like a punch to the damn gut! My heart was breaking all over again, but there was no hope to latch onto this time.”

His words are enlightening. Despite your attempts at blocking the memory, you remember that night in great detail. You remember how sweaty your palms were from the nerves, to the point you couldn’t even hold a glass of water. You remember the wave of relief that swept over you when you opened the door to see Chanyeol on the other side. You remember his expression, the conflicting emotions of love and hope, battling against reluctance and defeat. Putting the ring on the table was also due to nerves. You wanted to keep pretenses for a little longer, but the way he had zeroed in on the piece of jewelry worried you so much you began rambling.

He never took his eyes off that ring. You remember that clearly. It made you panic, and in a poor attempt to fill the silence, you started updating him on your life. You told him about the job you had just gotten that you’d been dying to get, about your hesitant plans on moving in with Seulgi, about the trips you had taken, anything to get him to react. He didn’t. By that point, you decided to get to the main reason for inviting him. You remember easing into it, telling him you had a lot of time to think about what you wanted in life, and had succeeded in your mission to find yourself. You were ready, if he was still willing. You were ready to become his wife.

He didn’t say anything. Hadn’t moved an inch.

You were positive he hadn’t blinked once during your monologue. Was he angry? Of course he was! That’s when you realized you’d made an irreversible mistake and was now living through the consequences. Maybe he didn’t want you back. Maybe you put too much faith in his love for you. Now looking back on it, you felt a lot like you do at this moment. If Chanyeol was done with you, you’d let him leave. You were going to put him first this time.

‘Chanyeol?’ you called gently. That seemed to bring him back. His eyelids fluttered and he straightened in his chair, pulling away from the ring to finally look at you. You were mesmerized by the richness of his eyes, they were prettier than you recalled, but maybe that was the unshed tears reflecting off the lights overhead. His mouth had fallen open, eyebrows lifted in a question, and you cleared your throat and forced yourself to blink, to break the intimate contact.

‘Are we good?’ You asked, voice shaking in apprehension. You were terrified of his answer, terrified of this being the end of you. Yet, you were prepared for rejection.

‘Yeah, we're good,’ he said. Not expecting that, you stared at him in shock for a moment until reality hit. He was taking you back! Instantly, you felt silly for doubting him. Of course he was taking you back. He already told you that he’d always love you. Feeling giddy with excitement, you weren’t even thinking when you reached out to him….

“I didn’t….” Chanyeol seems to also be back in that living room, reliving that dreadful day. “I couldn’t listen to you brag about your newfound happiness. It was like you were trying to hurt me. So, I stopped listening. Next thing I knew, you’re saying my name and like an idiot, I look at you. You asked me if we were good. I was confused, because you were obviously nervous, but I assumed you just wanted to leave on good terms. So, I agreed. ‘Sure, we’re good’.

….And then you kissed him.

“And then you kissed me.” His eyebrows furrow in the confusion he still feels. “And nothing else mattered after that. Not the ring, not the break up. Just you.”

Chanyeol gives you a Look of his own, and the moment turns tender.

Except all those feelings from the morning after bubbled up to the surface, and you despise the softness of his gaze.

“That was until the morning, right?” You say bitterly. “Then I didn’t matter at all.”

“That’s not–”

“You left me!” You snap. His mouth audibly shuts at the rise of your voice. “You agreed to get back together, had sex with me, disappeared in the morning, took the ring, and blocked me on everything so that I couldn’t get ahold of you! You claim it was because you were afraid of being used, but that’s what you ended up doing! You used me, Chanyeol, and I haven’t been the same since. You destroyed me! ”

“I didn’t use you!” He pleads. “Stop looking at me like that. You told me you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” you say. “I’m just trying to understand. Was it one last fuck for old times’ sake?”

“God, no! Don’t say it like that. I’ve never ‘fucked’ you. That’s not what that night meant to me.”

“Then what did it mean?” You beg for answers. “If it wasn’t your get back, if it wasn’t you confirming our relationship. What the fuck did it mean to you?”

He meets your gaze, determination igniting within him. “It meant everything to me! That kiss may have felt like the beginning to you, but for me, it was an ending. And I had something to prove. If that was going to be our last night together, I was going to give you every last piece of me. I wanted you to feel my love deep inside your bones, so that you could never forget what it felt like to be truly loved by me. I wanted to ruin you, so that any man that touched you after would pale in comparison. I wanted you to yearn for me on lonely nights, to miss me even if it was a fraction of the loss I was going to feel. I wanted you to still want me.”

Your breathing hitches at his explanation, because you’d be damned if that’s not exactly what he did. Your body awakens from his words, desperately calling for him the way it always has. You battle with the need to pull him close and have him sink into your soul. He made sure to leave his mark on you that night, to carve a hole deep within your heart that could never regrow. You’ve felt that emptiness since, carried it unknowingly. And now that you’ve been reunited, you see that he still holds that chunk with him. Chanyeol still possesses the missing piece to your heart.

The fire inside him seems to diminish once his speech is done. Now guilt slumps his shoulders and lowers his head.

“That morning….” He licks his dry lips. “It was a lapse of judgment.” You can’t help but wonder if he’s told himself this multiple times throughout the years to rationalize his decision. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. You have to believe me. It took everything to get out of your bed, everything to touch that ring. Everything to leave your life for good.”

“But I didn’t want you to,” you confess, on the verge of tears.

“I know,” he whispers, eyes just as glossy as yours. “I know that now. But, at the time, it was too impossible a dream to even fathom. I had to protect my heart too, you know?”

You did. He had every right to keep his guard up, even if it was at the detriment of your own feelings.

“And trust me when I say,” he continues. “I suffered too. I hated myself just as much as you did. I still do. Knowing that I broke you so badly…. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” He says your name. “That night was no exception.”

“You literally just said that you brought Yerim to hurt me,” you point out with a sniff.

“Right.” He winces. “But, that’s the only time, I swear!”

He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them. They’re big and warm and the contact soothes you. “Had I known…. Had I listened to you that night, I would have never left. If I knew that kiss meant so much more than a goodbye, we would’ve been married the next week. It’s my fault for not listening and for leaving without an explanation. I hurt us both that day. I’ll accept that now. I’m so fucking sorry, Mel.”

Him calling you Mel again is enough to make you finally shatter. Leaning against him, you press your forehead to his chest as sobs rack your own. He pulls you into his arms, rocking you back and forth as apologies fall from his mouth. You can hear the tears he sheds.

You both cry until you’re dried out, and as the gazebo quiets Chanyeol still holds you.

Once you’ve collected yourself, you speak through a stuffy nose. “I’m sorry too.”

Chanyeol stops swaying at the sound of your voice, so you continue. “I held a lot of animosity for what you did, but I ended up doing the same thing to you.”

“You were confused–”

“It’s no excuse. I left because I was scared, but I still hurt you.” You pull back so that you can show him your sincerity and finally own up for the things you did. “I’ve been playing with you this whole trip, because of my indecisiveness. I’ve been leading you on for days, pushing and pulling away, and you don’t deserve that. No matter our past, you don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you.”

“Thank you,” he accepts with a sniff.

“No, thank you,” you counter. “For explaining yourself, and for giving me a chance to explain myself as well. You didn’t owe me anything after what I did to you.”

“You didn’t do anything–”

“You don’t have to protect me anymore, Chanyeol. We’re past that now, aren’t we?”

He grows contemplative at that. “After our night together, much like when you kissed me all those years ago, I assumed we were back together.” As he speaks, he dries your wet face with his hands. You close your eyes, savoring his touch just in case it’s the last. “So when you denied it at the beach, I was hurt. I didn’t understand your reluctance, and I couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with me that you kept rejecting me. It wasn’t until after our fight, when I kept pushing and pushing and yet you still didn’t want me, that I took off the rose tinted glasses and reality set in. Seeing you again, at the place where our love was at its peak, it was easy to forget all the ways we went wrong. You were back in my life, and that was the important part. In my mind, we’d figure everything else out later. Because of that, I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, and I was moving way too fast. I guess, deep down, I knew that I had fucked up and was trying to make up for it. But you weren’t ready, and let's be honest, I’m not ready either. I thought about your offer to give it some time once we’re back in Seoul to separate the past from the present. I’d like to take you up on it, if it still stands.”

You’re relieved to know he finally understands what you were trying to explain to him yesterday. That it wasn’t necessarily a no, just a not-right-now.

“I would like that,” you admit.

You both smile at each other, taking in the other unabashedly in your safe space. You catch him glance down at your lips and pout. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever not be attracted to you. Is that bad?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think this trip is proof of how bad it can be, but I feel the same regardless.”

He lets out a sigh full of longing, and nervous about the changing atmosphere around you both, you speak. “Let’s make it a pact then. After we leave tomorrow, we’ll continue living as we had before the wedding, and after some time has passed, we’ll meet up and decide if this is something we actually want to try again, or if we should officially move on.”

“How long?” He asks.

You hum as you think of what a good enough time could be. “Jongdae’s baby shower is in four months. Do you think that’s enough time?”

His eyes take on a familiar shimmer. “I think it’s perfect.”

Chanyeol gets to his feet and pulls you up onto yours. You expect him to start walking back, but instead he pulls you deeper into the gazebo, until he’s standing in the center.

“How did I do it again?” he mumbles before sinking onto one knee, and your heart lurches into your throat.

“Chanyeol, what are you doing?” You choke.

He holds your left hand, thumb sliding over where your engagement ring once sat. He lifts his head to gaze up at you, and the fairy lights ahead douse him in a golden hue, sparkling in the dark depths of his soul. He now fully embodies the man he was four years ago, and you have a hard time differentiating what year you're in.

Your full name falling from his lips makes you focus on the present. “The last time I was here, I proposed to you, so it’s only fitting I do it again. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a ring this time.”

“Probably for the best,” you wheeze, still overwhelmed.

“Tonight, I’m proposing a deal. That we leave here and figure our shit out, and on the day of Jongdae’s baby shower, we will come to an agreement on how we will pursue this relationship. We will decide to either date again, stay strictly platonic, or become nonexistent. Do you agree to the terms?”

“Yes.” You agree.

Chanyeol smiles largely, and pretends to put a ring on your finger before kissing it. “Then it’s a deal.”

With that, he stands up and you look at him expectantly.

“There’s that look,” he whispers before obliging your unspoken request by leaning down to kiss you.

You kiss as though it’s the last time you ever will, savoring the other and indulging in such a forbidden touch. Whenever you think Chanyeol’s about to break it, he merely tilts his head the other way to deepen it and you giggle and fall right back into your perfect rhythm. A slow warm heat builds from your core, up to your chest, to burn in your throat. Surprisingly, it’s not arousal. It’s something more grounding, more brittle. It’s affection, it’s grief.

It’s love.

The two of you pull apart eventually, staring deep into each other’s eyes as you attempt to catch your breaths.

“There,” Chanyeol says, voice gravelly and deep, as though he just woke up. “Sealed with a kiss.”

You’re smiling, and it all feels so bittersweet, you think you may also be crying again.

“I….” Chanyeol brushes your hair back. Whatever he’s about to say–and you have a suspicious feeling you might know what it is–he decides to keep to himself. Instead, he presses another kiss to your forehead and untangles himself from you. “Let’s go back. I have an early flight.”

The walk to the hotel is peacefully silent. You don’t hold hands or anything, but you’re close enough to have your arm brush his occasionally. When you’re in the elevator, you stand on opposite sides of the cart, just as you had a couple nights ago. He’s smiling at you, and it’s so sweet and boyish, you can’t help but smile back. The action makes his smile grow wider.

When you’re deposited onto your floor, he walks you to your door.

“Sorry for all the drama,” you say as you dig for your room key.

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He grins at you, nudging your shoulder with his arm.

Opening the door, you pause and turn to him. He meets your gaze expectantly.

“See you at the baby shower?” You ask anxiously.

He nods. “I’ll see you at the baby shower, Mel.”

Reassured, you head inside, closing the door quietly behind you. Your heart is pounding a million miles a second, and you take a moment to calm it down with deep breaths. It doesn’t help much. You’re too excited. You’re…hopeful. You know that whatever you decide on the day you see Chanyeol again, he’ll be on the same page.

You finally got your closure, and are now ready for a new chapter, with or without him. And that doesn’t scare you nearly as much as it had this morning. You’ll never let him know, but Sehun was right. The talk was much needed.

You get ready for bed, and take in the room you spent some of the most stressful days in. You find you’re going to miss this place. Maybe next year you can book the same room, you think as you crawl into bed and fall into a peaceful slumber, knowing all but one of the knots in your rope have finally been untangled.