#ive been on board with that for four fucking years can you imagine if i was right all this time

[sunnysduet]

the specific wording of angel asking vaggie "aren't you supposed to protect this place" makes me think a lot of things

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

For the Christmas prompt thingy! Honestly I'll take all the help I can get getting into the holiday spirit. (I literally just got back from seeing the nutcracker for the 1st time ever and while i loved it, still nothing as far as holiday cheer goes😔)Obviously you know which one of your oc couples is my favorite and i never get tired of(S+C(+E)), but if you want a break from them, I also accept Dean and Kat or Stiles and Sadie. Any # tbh but 3, 7 or 10 caught my eye. I appreciate the help 😅🎄

I know that this took me until Christmas Eve-Eve, but I hope that it still gives you a little boost. I knew exactly which one I wanted to do as soon as you sent this.

iv. taking their time picking the tree

Christine had experienced almost every kind of Christmas she could imagine. She’d had years where she and her dad had just gone to the movies and eaten Chinese food. She’d had years where she went to a big Christmas party thrown by whatever company her dad was working for that year. She’d had Christmases where they decided to skip Christmas and try to recreate Hannukah the way her mother would’ve done it. Big Christmas, small Christmas, or no Christmas—Christine didn’t have a lot of expectations.

This year, though, she knew things would be different.

Once everything in Hawkins had settled and healed, once she’d finally grabbed her diploma without being eaten by an interdimensional monster, Christine left Indiana behind for MIT. Moving to Massachusetts might’ve been bittersweet if she hadn’t taken so much of Hawkins with her. It was hard to miss home when she was sharing an apartment with Eddie and Steve.

There hadn’t been much debate about the situation. Both boys cared more about Christine than anything keeping them in Hawkins—except Wayne, who Eddie called pretty much every day. He worked for cash at the local mechanic, Steve climbing his way to up to assistant manager at a nearby movie theater. They split rent and groceries three ways, which meant Christine was saving loads on room and board. It also meant spending every day with two of her favorite people.

Most days it was a little slice of heaven.

Today, it was decidedly not.

“Will you two stop arguing?” Christine begged. “My feet are about to freeze in these boots.”

“I’ll stop arguing when Eddie takes his head out of his ass,” Steve complained. He had his arms folded over his chest, giving Eddie a stern look. “We’re not getting this one. Pick something else.”

“No,” Eddie said stubbornly. “Why would I pick something else when we could have this beauty of a tree?”

“Because this beauty of a tree isn’t going to fit through the door, let alone in the living room. It’s about three feet too tall.”

“Wha—no, it’s not.” Eddie scoffed, struggling to hold the tree upright as another gust of wind blew through the lot. “Okay, it’s tall, but once they do a fresh cut on the bottom and we trim the top—”

“Dude, they’d have to cut the damn thing in half! We’re not buying it!”

Eddie swore and dropped the tree back against the fence, which creaked dangerously under the weight. “Well we’re not buying that shrimp of a tree that you picked out. Why the fuck would we get a three-foot Christmas tree?”

“Because it’s practical,” Steve said for the hundredth time. “The apartment’s already too small for us and, unless the tree’s gonna pay rent, I’m not letting it take up a quarter of the living room.”

“It’s for one month, Harrington. Don’t be a Scrooge.”

“Hilarious. Have you even read that?”

“What, because you have?”

“Guys, stop,” Christine pleaded. “Can’t we just split the difference and get a five-foot?”

“No,” the boys replied in unison.

Christine whined and snuggled further into her winter coat. They’d been standing in the tree lot for almost an hour, but with the wind chill, it felt like four. Even with two pairs of socks, her boots, her gloves, her sweater, scarf, coat, and hat, Christine could feel her blood starting to crystalize in her veins. Eddie seemed to be impervious to the cold, merely adding a hat and gloves to his usual ensemble of ripped jeans and flannel. Steve was bundled up in his peacoat, but he was so irritated that his anger was doing a better job of keeping him warm.

She knew, in theory, why they were having this argument. Steve had grown up with an over-the-top Christmas every year, a tree larger than God in his living room. Eddie never had that opportunity. In the trailer with Wayne, the most they ever did was hang up twinkle lights in the living room. This year, in their own apartment, they had a chance to do Christmas their way. They just couldn’t decide what their way was going to be.

“I still say we get a fake tree,” Steve huffed. “It’s less money in the long run and—”

“Over my dead body, Harrington.”

“Oho—we’re getting there, Munson!”

“Come on, angel, back me up here,” Eddie said, turning his puppy eyes to Christine.

“We’re not getting a fake tree,” she sighed. Eddie punched the air in victory and Steve groaned, sour until she added, “Because if we get a fake tree, it means I’ve been standing here for an hour freezing my ass off for no reason. I literally do not care what kind of tree we get. So help me, God—you two are gonna pick a tree, strap it to the car, and take me home before I take that seven-footer and shove it up your ass.”

“Wow, okay, uh…” Steve scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Which one of us?”

“Both of you,” she growled, “one on each end.”

The boys winced, then exchanged a look of resignation. Eddie shrugged and tipped his head to the side, a silent “you heard her” to Steve. Steve pursed his lips and looked around the lot one last time before he folded.

“We’re not doing anything bigger than six feet. And you’re vacuuming, Munson! If there’s a single needle in the carpet come January—”

“Then you can use me as a tree topper next year,” Eddie said, hand over his heart. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

“Oh, fuck you, Munson.”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Eddie winked as walked around Christine, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest. The boy was like a furnace, heat radiating through her layers as he kissed the top of her head. “But I think we have to thaw-out the princess first.”

[latetaektalk]

after i left you | jjk

“when you decided to meet up with taehyung for dinner to reconnect, you didn’t expect to see jungkook, your ex, on a date with his current girlfriend and not to mention, end up fake dating taehyung.”

genre: exes! AU, fake dating! AU, enemies to lovers-ish! AU, unrequited feelings-ish! AU, angst, fluff

pairing: jungkook x female reader 

word count: 38.985 

warnings: cursing, reader feels very guilty in this one, alcohol consumption (nothing major/bad though)

playlist: happier - ed sheeran, just asking - aquilo, my tears ricochet - taylor swift, one last time please - dodie

a/n: uh, super nervous to post this because ive never written so much before, but i had a ton of fun and i hope you guys enjoy it! if you guys have any problems reading, liking or reblogging it, please let me know! im not sure if tumblr can handle such a word count, so id appreciate it if you guys would tell me if something doesnt work and ill figure it out! anyway, hope you guys enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this!

The restaurant Taehyung picked was big but cozy. It was one huge room that stretched out further than your eyes could see. It was soaked in golden light, soaked in warmth and comfort. Everything was made out of wood, dark rich wood, and it smelled like home-cooked food. The smell wafted through the entire place. 

“‘Let’s all have dinner,’ they said, huh?” Taehyung said and looked around, no Yerim or Yoongi in sight. You laughed and shrugged.

“Yeah, sucks that they had to cancel last minute, but next time, we’ll be all together,” you said and skimmed the hard edges of the menu in your hands.

“Yeah, I know, but I thought we’d find the time once you returned,” Taehyung sighed and put down his menu with a frown.

“Definitely sucks,” you agreed and put down your menu as well. “But I’m happy that at least you and I could find the time.”

Taehyung and you smiled at each other and you could still barely believe it, could still barely believe that you were not only back in your hometown, but sitting in front of Taehyung and having dinner with him. It was all very surreal to you, and even though barely half an hour had passed since you had first seen Taehyung again in four years, things felt like they had never changed. There was no awkwardness, no long silences or weird tension between you. Both of you had simply picked up from where you left off. 

“Tell me, Y/N, how was America?” Taehyung asked and plopped his elbow onto the table before letting his chin fall into his open palm and tilting his head to the side. You mirrored him and let out a hum, the golden light pouring down both of your faces and bringing out the corners of your features.

Taehyung’s hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him. In fact, it was permed now. And even though both of you had finished puberty by the time you had left, he seemed to have gotten a little taller. He had somehow grown into his face and turned into one gorgeous man with fluffy and luscious locks.

“Well, exhausting. I was always studying and pulling all-nighters, and it was so hard at times. The homesickness certainly didn’t make it any easier,” Taehyung smiled, “but it was- it was so worth it.”

“That’s great,” he said and you knew he meant it, knew he was genuinely happy for you. You beamed at him. “You really enjoyed it, didn’t you? America, I mean.”

“Yeah, it was- it was great, truly,” you said with a nod and remembered all of the memories you had made over the past four years. “It was really what I needed. Really the time of my life.”

Taehyung’s smile widened into a grin and you let your words sink in, sink in for him and for you as well. It was in the silence that you felt the guilt come back, hit you square in the face and leave you breathless.

You leaned back and grabbed the edge of the table. You lowered your head and Taehyung perked up, feeling the shift the moment it had happened.

“I’m sorry.”

Taehyung raised his brows at you and let his hand fall onto the table as he leaned forward, trying to see what you were apologising for.

“I- I feel bad,” you started up again and tucked a strand behind your ear. “It sounds like I didn’t enjoy being here and-”

“No, Y/N, don’t,” Taehyung reached over the table and grabbed your hand, taking it into his, “There’s no need to apologise. You worked your butt off to win that scholarship and fulfilled your dream. That’s great.”

“Yeah, but I abandoned you guys,” you mumbled and shrugged. You pulled away your hand, but Taehyung was quick to tighten his grasp, quick to put his other hand over yours and squeeze your hand. 

“Stop saying that, Y/N,” Taehyung shook his head at you, eyes drilling holes into your head as you continued to stare down at your lap, “You didn’t ‘abandon’ us. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Taehyung pulled on your hand and waited for you to raise your head, and when you did and met his gaze, he offered you an even bigger grin than before.

“You don’t have to feel bad for going to America to go study,” he said and tilted his head to the side, bangs tickling his eyes. “We were and still are genuinely happy for you.”

“He wasn't.”

Taehyung’s hands tightened around yours at your words, and he pressed his lips into a thin line, giving you a look that had you shifting in your seat and shrugging in defense.

He hadn’t been happy for you at all when you had told him you had won a scholarship to go study in America. You had expected hugs and cheers, but received cold stares and bitter words instead. When the summer had neared its end and you had to leave, he hadn’t been there. Taehyung, Yerim and Yoongi had all hugged and kissed you goodbye, had wished you the best, but he, the person you had wanted to be with you right now the most, had been by your side.

You were eighteen, barely an adult, when you had boarded the plane to America without him kissing your forehead and wishing you the best, and you never forgot that, forgot just how unhappy and miserable you had made him.

“He wasn’t,” you repeated like it excused your words in any way. Taehyung opened his mouth to launch into a speech, a speech you already knew by heart without having heard it a single time. 

“Y/N-”

“This place,” you started and pulled your hand away, gesturing around you. “It’s nice.”

Taehyung blinked at you, obviously contemplating whether or not to allow you to change the subject like that, and you were more than glad when he leaned back into his chair and nodded.

“Yeah, it opened recently,” he said with a smile and you smiled right back at him. Both of you shared a look for a moment and after many years of friendship, there was no need for words, no need for you to thank him for letting you off the hook like that.

“It’s so nice,” you repeated and you barely heard Taehyung’s laugh as you let your gaze wander, taking it all in.

Seemingly every table was filled, and everybody was in their own world. You could hear laughter and shrieks in between the conversations, and a smile stretched across your face. Your eyes softened at the sight of loving couples and you ignored the pulling in your chest, ignored the yearning for what they had sitting deep within you.

“I really like it here,” you said and Taehyung stuck out his chest a little. A smirk was painted on his lips and pride was glimmering in his eyes. You chuckled a little and let yourself sink into the chair before your gaze travelled through the room once more.

The restaurant seemed to be frequented by a lot of couples, and you understood why. This place reminded you of the restaurants Jungkook would take you to from time and time again to show you how much he appreciated you, one of those restaurants he had taken you to when he had confessed to you and told you he loved you for the first time.

“This is totally a place for him.”

You said it without meaning to, said it without thinking, and when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, you both shared a knowing gaze. Panic wanted to flush through your chest—because was Taehyung going to circle back to your previous words?—but then, he smiled at you and nodded.

“Yeah, totally is. It’s his favourite restaurant actually,” Taehyung said and you weren’t surprised. “He dragged all of us out here on opening day.”

“Opening day?”

“Yeah, can you imagine this place on opening day? This place had been hyped up months before its opening. So, it was fucking insane when we got here. He almost got into two fistfights that day,” Taehyung laughed and sighed at the memory.

“The hostess couldn't find his reservation and he insisted that he had made one like months ago. Yeri literally had to talk him down. And when we finally got to our table, he almost fought Yoongs because he said he didn’t like it here,” Taehyung told you and shook his head with a grin plastered on his lips. “Can you believe?”

“Honestly?” You raised your brows and you didn’t answer your question because Taehyung and you exploded into more laughter. “Shit, he hasn’t changed at all, has he?” 

“He is dumber now,” Taehyung smiled and scrunched up his nose. “Definitely still an idiot.”

You nodded and this time when you both fell silent, there was no guilt building up inside of you, no coming back to the surface. 

“How is he?” you asked and Taehyung puckered his forehead. He tapped the table with his one hand while he ran his other one through his fluffy locks.

“He’s,” Taehyung hesitated and your heart stopped in your chest, but then you saw the smile pulling on the corners of his lips, “good.” Taehyung paused a moment before nodding. “He’s good. Recently finished up his studies and started his first job. He’s enjoying it.”

You smiled.

“That’s great. I’m happy for him.”

You meant it, meant it because he had deserved so much more, deserved better. When you had last seen him, he and you had been wrecks, crying and sobbing and angry messes, and it was great to hear that he wasn’t anymore, great to hear that he was doing better now. 

“Is he, you know, uh seeing-” you trailed off as the rest of the question got stuck between your teeth like chewing gum, but Taehyung knew what you wanted to ask. He gave you a look, a look you weren’t sure how to interpret. There seemed to be pity and almost sorry in his eyes.

“Yeah, he is.”

You expected that answer, expected it because someone as amazing and great and funny as he was more than desirable but it still hurt to hear. You couldn’t stop your chest from tightening and your heart from sinking a little deeper inside you, shrinking in itself. You wanted to tell yourself to stop, wanted to tell your heart to not be like that because you had no right to feel like that, had no right when you had been the one leaving him. 

He had every right to move on, had every right to forget about you and be happy with someone else. But your heart simply couldn’t help itself from clenching in your chest like you were the one that had been left behind and not him.

“Wait, where are you?”

Taehyung and you snapped your head around when the girl next to you suddenly spoke up, thinking both that she was talking to you. Neither of you had taken notice of her before or looked at her when the hostess had led you two to your table. Until now, she had been typing away on her phone, waiting in silence, but right now, she had her phone pressed against her ear, definitely talking a little too loudly.

“What do you mean you can’t find parking? There’s a huge parking lot right next to the restaurant.”

Taehyung and you locked eyes when it clicked with both of you that she was not talking to you two. You shared knowing looks, remembering the same thing.

“He never found parking either,” Taehyung mumbled and both of you leaned closer to one another, not wanting for the girl to hear that you had eavesdropped on her conversation. Smiles played on your lips and you snickered. 

You recalled the many times you had sat in his car and cursed at him for running another red light because you were late, again, because of him, recalled the many times you would sit in a restaurant on your own or in the mall, waiting for him with your phone pressed to your ear as he assured you over and over again that he had planned in time for traffic, but that it was just worse than ever before.

“And he always had his excuses,” you snorted and shook your head. “‘There was a fire, so I had to turn around and take this huge detour.’ I think there was a fire somewhere every other week.”

Taehyung laughed and grinned at you. “Oh, but I think ‘Someone dropped a bunch of mirrors on the road and when I tried to turn around, I couldn’t because there were a bunch of cars, so I had to wait until they cleaned up the road.’ is still my favourite.”

“Ugh, he’s such a drama queen, I swear,” you groaned and leaned back into your chair. 

“I have no idea how you dated him for most of high school. Like he’s so exhausting sometimes,” Taehyung mumbled and shook his head.

“Oh, you spent just as much time as I did with him,” you said with a roll of your eyes and Taehyung wiggled his finger at you.

“I didn’t date him though. There’s a difference,” he argued and you dismissed his words with a quick shake of your head before crossing your arms in front of your chest at a certain memory.

“Does he still insist on having his cucumbers diced and not sliced because sliced cucumbers don’t taste as good?” 

“Please, don’t remind me. Every time I think about that I want to stop being friends-”

“Wait, where are- oh, I can see you already,” the girl next to you said into her phone and Taehyung and you froze at her interruption. Both of you looked at each other and before either of you could get back to your conversation, you were interrupted once more.

“I’m so sorry, but I swear the traffic was just out of this world today.”

Your eyes grew wide at his voice and your heart plummeted into your stomach when you heard his voice. You recognised it immediately, would have recognised it even if you had been deaf. You could never not recognise it, could never forget his voice. Your heart thumped in your chest, thumped painfully, as you turned your head and your eyes landed on him and his eyes landed on you.

His lips parted the slightest bit as he looked at you, frozen, and he gripped the back of the chair as his brows furrowed together at your sight.

“Y/N?”

Your name slipped off his tongue and confusion etched onto his face. Hearing him say your name sent your heart into a frenzy, had the panic bulldoze you away and your brain short circuit. The world went silent, the conversations all around you faded away and left you in silence with him. Time seemed to stand still as he and you looked at each other, desperately trying to process what was happening right now.

“Jungkook.”

His name felt dry and heavy on your tongue, felt like cement, felt like something you had been wanting to say forever now, but had avoided saying because you knew you had lost the right to say it and therefore had never said it again, until now. Until now when he was standing wide-eyed in front of you.

“Wait, what’s happening right now?” 

The question barely registered with you as you continued to stare at Jungkook, continued to stare at the boy that had once meant the world to you, continued to stare at the boy that you once had the right to calling him your boyfriend, continued to stare at the boy that still had your heart in such a tight grip that he managed to send it into a frenzy and have panic pumping through your veins merely with his sight.

Jungkook had changed. Now, he was taller and stood out in this crowded restaurant, towered over every other guest. Jungkook demanded attention from everyone, from you, and you were willing to give it to him because how could you not?

His hair had grown out, was longer now than you had ever seen it before and you wanted to comment on his tattoos when you saw them, juxtaposing his golden and warm skin. From the day you had met Jungkook, he had been talking about all of the tattoos he had wanted to get once he was old enough, and you almost couldn’t believe that he had actually finally gotten some. You wondered if he had to go behind the back of his parents or if they gave him their approval since he was an adult now.

“Uhm, babe?”

It was the word ‘babe’ that had you snapping out of it, that had the world start turning again and the time unfreezing, conversations returning to their original volume. It was the word ‘babe’ that had your eyes tearing away from Jungkook and to the girl sitting next to you instead. Her brows were raised and her gaze was drilling into Jungkook’s as he slowly pulled himself together too.

For the first time, you actually looked at the girl, actually gave her some of your attention. Until now, she had just been the girl sitting at the table next to you, been the girl typing away on her phone, been the girl having a conversation a little too loudly, but now, she was the girl who had waited for Jungkook, was the girl who had called Jungkook ‘babe’.

Now, she was the girl who was seemingly Jungkook’s girlfriend.

Jungkook sank down in his chair, but the confusion never left his face. His eyes stayed on you before his gaze wandered to his left, meeting Taehyung’s. When he locked eyes with him, Jungkook’s whole face dropped once more, eyes growing bigger and wider than they were before.

“Taehyung?” Jungkook almost yelled and drew the attention of some people around you, but none of you could muster up the energy to give them an apologetic smile. 

“Hi, Kook,” Taehyung managed to cough out and filled the awkwardness and silence with it. Jungkook crashed against the back of his chair with a thud as he gazed into nothing, brain desperately trying to process this.

Taehyung and you exchanged glances, both of you not knowing what to do or to say. This wasn’t what either of you had prepared for. Both of you had only signed up to have a nice dinner and catch up while tiptoeing around the topic of Jungkook and you. You knew you were going to see him again because he was still friends with Taehyung, Yerim and Yoongi and so were you, but you just hadn’t thought that you were going to see him today.

“Okay, uhm, babe, could you please explain to me what’s going on right now?” 

For the first time since he had arrived, Jungkook looked at the girl who was most definitely his girlfriend. His eyes were still wide when they met hers and there was a strained smile on her lips as she drilled her gaze into him, demanding some sort of answer from him, but he couldn’t deliver. He opened his mouth, but his throat felt scratchy and dry and so, he could only stare into nothing again.

“I- I need some water,” Jungkook managed to blurt out, reaching across the table to grab her glass of water and gulping it down like he hadn’t drunk something in years. He devoured it in seconds and stared at it with big eyes, mentally cursing at it for not holding more water for him to gulp down. 

Jungkook put down the glass, but he didn’t let go of it and instead held it, tightening his grip around it until his knuckles turned white.

“Okay, uh,” Jungkook started and massaged his temple as he screwed his eyes shut, fighting off the headache that made him think his skull was going to split open. 

“Uh, so,” Jungkook sighed and puckered his forehead before peeling his eyes open and gesturing towards Taehyung. “This is, uh, Taehyung. I- I’ve told you about him, babe, right?”

“Yeah, oh,” the girl next to you perked up and turned her gaze to Taehyung, offering him a genuine albeit tense smile. You couldn’t blame her, this was still very awkward.

“Yes, Taehyung. Hi! I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve been dying to meet you.” Taehyung forced a smile on his lips and it looked genuine, but having known him for so long, you could spot the difference right away. 

“I’m Heejin.”

Heejin.

A pretty name for an even prettier girl. It suited her, suited her to have such a beautiful sounding name. Of course, she did and you almost scoffed, scoffed because your name paled in comparison to hers. Hers had a pleasant ring to it, but yours just sounded off and wrong now. 

“Heejin, yeah, I’ve heard of you too.” Taehyung nodded and extended his hand. She took it and they both shook hands for a moment before she turned to you, her smile still tense, but the genuineness shimmered through.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I know-” Heejin trailed off and looked over to Jungkook for help, but he had his eyes locked with yours. And with that simple look, you knew.

He hadn’t told Heejin about you.

And judging from the way he was slightly shaking his head, he wasn’t planning on doing so just now. Taehyung and you understood immediately, but it had another dose of panic rushing through both of you.

“I’m Y/N,” you offered and extended your hand to Heejin like Taehyung had because this was the polite thing to do, the right thing to do, and for once in your life, you had to do the right thing regarding Jungkook.

“Hi, Y/N. Heejin,” she smiled, taking your hand into her perfectly soft one, and you made sure to smile at her too as you shook her hand. You smiled at her as much as one could smile at your ex’s current girlfriend. “It’s nice to meet you.”

No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t nice to meet Heejin, wasn’t nice at all. You wanted to shout it into her face, tell her you already hated her for simply existing and taking your place in Jungkook’s life and heart, but you swallowed all of the bitter and petty words, swallowed your anger aimed at her that was truly only anger at yourself, and nodded.

“Yeah, really nice to meet you, Heejin,” you said and let go of her hand, eyes turning to Taehyung instinctively. He offered you a smile, a smile that had your heart calming down a little, but then your eyes wandered to Jungkook and it sped up again. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

“Heejin, here- she’s, uh-” Jungkook stammered and the rest of his sentence refused to come out, leaving him with his mouth open and staring back at you.

“I’m his girlfriend,” Heejin finished with a smile and Jungkook and you locked eyes. It almost looked like he wanted to correct her with the way he sat up, with the way his back straightened out, but he didn’t. He didn’t correct Heejin because there was nothing to correct. And you knew that.

“Yeah, exactly, right,” Jungkook confirmed with a quiet voice and a nod. You tore your gaze away and looked around, looked around the room and stared at anything as long as it meant that you didn’t have to look at him, see him sitting across the girl who was his girlfriend.

You couldn’t bear the sight, couldn’t bear it to see Jungkook here with his girlfriend. You weren’t prepared for this, but you didn’t think that anything could have prepared you for this, for this bitter reality anyway.

“And, so, how do you all-” Heejin didn’t finish her sentence and gestured between all three of you instead. You shared a glance with Taehyung, asking him to say something because you couldn’t right now, couldn’t bring yourself to explain how you all knew each other.

“Uh, well, we all went to high school together. We were all friends back then,” Taehyung said and shifted in his chair to cover up the pitchiness of his voice. Heejin nodded at his words and looked between you all three once more before gesturing at all three of you again.

“Oh, okay, but why was Kook so shocked-”

“Well, it’s been a while since Kook and Y/N have seen each other, right?” Taehyung smiled and you could see the trembling corners of his lips. You nodded in confirmation because Jungkook was still somewhat stuck processing all of this.

“How come?”

“Well, I, uh,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I moved away for college.”

You did. It wasn’t a lie, but it was also not the whole truth either because you moved to America and not to some neighbouring city that was half an hour away. Jungkook raised his brows at you and pursed his lips together, but you refused to look back at him, focusing instead on keeping the smile on your face for Heejin.

“Yeah, it was surprising for Kook to see Y/N, huh?” Taehyung asked and put his hand on his shoulder, and Jungkook looked at him before humming in confirmation and forcing a smile onto his lips.

“Surprising, for sure. Shocking, too.”

You folded your arms in front of your stomach and bit on your lip, trying to ignore the thudding of your heart ringing in your ears.

“Oh, so, this is like you guys reconnecting again?” Heejin asked and you begged her to stop asking any more questions, to stop trying to understand this because, fuck, this was only going to end badly. The truth was ugly and terrible and you didn’t want to face it, didn’t want to look it into the eye, couldn’t face it and look at it, at least not yet.

As much as you wanted to open your mouth and swiftly change the topic, the words were stuck to your tongue like gum stuck to the sole of a shoe. It was helpless.

“Wait, but why wasn’t Kook invited-”

“Well, actually, this isn’t us reconnecting again,” Taehyung interrupted and you turned your head to him. He placed his hand on the table and beckoned for yours, and too confused to use your own brain, you just put your hands into Taehyung’s. Bad decision as it turns out.

“This is actually a date.”

You almost pulled away your hand, but Taehyung was quick to hold onto it and tighten his grasp. Your heart was now beating out of your chest and you were sure everybody could hear it, were sure it was louder than the whole room.

“Y/N and I are dating.”

This time, you didn’t try to pull away your hand. This time, you actually did the opposite and tightened it. In fact, you tightened it so much that your knuckles turned white and Taehyung had to hold his breath to stop the groan from slipping.

“Right, yeah, boy and girlfriend. Super duper in love,” you croaked out with a tight smile before lowering your gaze. What else could you say? 

Jungkook drilled his eyes into your face. You could feel the holes he was staring into you right now, but you refused to look at him, refused to spare him a glance and possibly see his reaction to the revelation that Taehyung and you were supposedly dating. 

Even if it was a lie, an obvious lie, a lie that only needed to be told because Jungkook hadn’t told Heejin about you yet, it still knocked the breath out of Jungkook and had him bending over, still had his face etching into something else, into something unreadable.

“Wait, oh my God,” Heejin squeaked and her hand found her mouth as it split apart into a grin, covering it as her eyes flickered between Taehyung and you. “This is a date? Then-” 

Heejin turned to Jungkook with the most excited smile on her lips before whipping her head back to Taehyung and you.

“This is totally a double date then!”

The shock didn’t wear off for another five seconds, but when it did, you offered Heejin the most convincing smile you could muster up. Taehyung put his hand on yours when you tightened it around his other one a little too much, but you didn’t let go.

There was no way out, no revealing this was all a lie anymore and he was to blame. He was the one that had started it and dragged you along.

“I guess,” you said through a tight smile.

The scruffing and scraping of Jungkook’s chair against the hardwood floor when he got up rang loud, painfully loud in your ears and you cringed. He held up the glass of water and only looked at Heejin, but somehow you knew his words were meant to shoot through your heart.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe.”

There was just something about the summer evening air that always managed to relax you, managed to calm you down and ground you again. 

The warm breeze blew through your hair and filled your lungs with much-needed oxygen, oxygen you had been craving for since you had first seen Jungkook again. He had taken your breath away, stolen it and left you dealing with the agony and pain with finding it again as you desperately tried not to suffocate.

The last hour had flown by you, had passed you in a blur. As much as you tried to, you couldn’t recall what you had talked about, couldn’t even recall what you had ordered and what your dish had tasted like. Everything was so hazy. The only thing you knew for sure was that it had taken Jungkook far too long to fill up a glass of water and that when he had finally returned, there was a glass of water in his one hand and a glass of whiskey in his other one.

At one point, you had gotten up with an excuse of needing to make a call and before anyone could protest, you had fled out of the restaurant. You did contemplate taking a cab and going home, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to unlock your phone—not to mention, leave without a word.

Going inside was just as difficult though, so you stayed outside, and simply let the view dawn on you. Because a restaurant like this, of course, had to be located on a small hill that overlooked the city, had to have the most gorgeous view.

Your hometown wasn’t magical, wasn’t pretty at all, but with the sun slowly dipping below the horizon, the warm sunshine turned the cracked streets into golden rivers and the lines and lines of cars waiting at the red lights into boats. The street lamps decorating the cracked streets resembled fireflies, buzzing and bright.

For a moment, you forgot, forgot about the world around you, forgot about the tension poisoning the air inside the restaurant and making every breath more and more unbearable and deadly, forgot about the web of lies you were slowly sinking into, forgot about the aching of your heart every time you looked at Jungkook.

For a moment, you forgot that Jungkook and you weren’t dating anymore.

“You’re dating Tae now?”

You jerked around at the question, eyes finding him instinctively. Your breath hitched in your throat and you opened your mouth to answer, but no sound would escape you.

Jungkook stood there, a few metres away from you, with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side, and, God, was he just gorgeous, so breathtakingly gorgeous, beautiful, pretty.

Even though his tone was light and almost playful, his face was hard. Jungkook looked at you for another moment before his gaze wandered to the view in front of him. His eyes were cold, cold enough to turn the golden rivers into ice, cold enough to freeze the boats, cold enough to kill the fireflies.

“You know I’m not. He just panicked. Tae’s always been a shit liar,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the situation and cut down on some of the tension, unfreeze the world, but you fell short and failed miserably. Jungkook let a smile pull on the corners of his lips, but it was gone within a second.

You were frozen when he started closing the distance between you two. When he finally stopped next to you, there was a noticeable gap between you, a gap big enough to have your heart wrenching and twisting in your chest. 

Fuck, this was what Jungkook and you had become, huh? Two people that couldn’t even stand close enough to each other without that awkward and horrible gap between you.

There used to be a time when there was no gap, no space, used to be a time when you were always in each other’s arms, used to be a time when the air wasn’t cold and the world frozen. But there also used to be a time where you two could only smile and grin at the other, used to be a time where there were no hardened faces and cold gazes.

There used to be a time that was just Jungkook and you together.

“Yeah, that’s a fucking mess,” Jungkook laughed humorlessly and you didn’t join him, didn’t try to. “How are we gonna fix that?”

“I don’t think we need to,” you said with a frown and turned to him for a moment, but he didn’t reciprocate your gaze. You got the message and turned to face the city again, looking out like you hadn’t been doing that for the past minutes.

“I doubt we’re gonna see each other again, right? I mean-” you trailed off and shrugged, rocking on the balls of your feet as you struggled to finish your sentence.

“I mean, I would like to if that was okay and fine with you, if you’re ready for that, but I understand if you’re not.”

Jungkook turned to you, blinking at you for a second before ultimately turning away and looking out again.

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” he chuckled dryly and you thought you could even hear a scoff. “Are you going back? Leaving to continue your adventure? Is this just a pit stop before you’re off to continue your adventure?”

The words stung, cut into you and your heart clenched at them. A cold breeze blew through you, gutted you, and you were left shivering and with goosebumps covering your entire body. Your throat knotted into a mess, and you wanted to look at Jungkook, see his expression, but you trained your gaze on your frozen hometown, trained your gaze on it like it didn’t shatter your heart to see it like that.

Jungkook had every right, every right to be bitter and cold, but it didn’t mean it hurt you any less for him to treat you like that, treat you like you hadn’t been each other’s worlds at one point of your life.

“No.” You shook your head, desperately trying to rid your voice of its trembling. “I- I’m staying.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, didn’t respond, didn’t even react in the slightest way. You thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but when you dared to peek at him, you saw the way the lines of his face had deepened. He had heard you, loud and clear.

You both drowned in the silence, sank into it, deeper and deeper with each second, and you crossed your arms in front of your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

“Did you stay in touch with the others? Yoongs? Yeri?” 

You shifted on your feet and tucked a strand behind your ear. “No- I mean, we tried, but after like a year or two, we slowly lost contact with each other. We did check on each other every couple months and texted every now and then, but we- we did definitely drift apart.”

“I guess then they were meant to come too, right? Tonight?” 

“Yeah, they were, but they had to drop out last minute. We, uh, always said we were gonna have dinner once I returned,” you mumbled and Jungkook hummed at that, nodding a little. Both of you stayed silent for a while, and even though you wanted to say something, cut into the silence because it allowed you to think and right now, you didn’t want to think, you couldn’t come up with anything to say.

“How long have you been back?”

Your gaze wandered to your feet and you kicked the dirt a little, digging into it with the tip of your shoe.

“Uh, I got back a little over a week ago,” you whispered into the air and tightened your arms around your chest. Jungkook nodded, but he didn’t look at you.

“Why are you back?” Jungkook asked and when you struggled to answer his question, he scoffed. Your silence was telling, said more than you ever could. 

“You came back for a job, didn’t you?”

You didn’t reply, didn’t tell him you hadn’t come back just for a job, but because you had missed home, had missed your family, had missed Taehyung, Yerim, Yoongi and more importantly, had terribly missed him. You had missed everything and everyone here so much you couldn’t even put it into words, but you said none of that, didn’t correct Jungkook.

The wind blew through your hair and the once warm breeze that had filled your lungs with the oxygen you so desperately needed filled your lungs now with sharp and piercing icicles this time. You hugged yourself more, tighter. You tried to warm yourself up, but no amount of hugging yourself was enough to melt the ice in your lungs.

“What are you, uh, doing out here?” you asked and turned a little to Jungkook, eyeing him with a raised brow, but he didn’t reciprocate your gaze this time either.

“Heejin’s cold,” Jungkook answered after a beat of silence, brows knitting together as he kept his focus in front of him. “I’ve got a jacket in my car.”

You hummed and a small smile made its way onto your lips. You totally got it. You were cold too, freezing, in fact, but there was no jacket for you, no Jungkook running out for you to get it and warm you up.

“You still got a whole closet in the back of your car, don’t you?” you asked with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood, but when you turned to Jungkook, your smile fell off.

Instead of flushing red in embarrassment or laughing because of how well you still knew him after all these years, Jungkook stared into your eyes, harsh lines etched onto his face. It wasn’t the kind of stare that had your heart thumping and your throat constricting and kaleidoscopes of butterflies in your stomach flying. No, it was a piercing kind of stare, the kind that had your breath hitching in your throat in the worst way possible and your heart sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t.”

The message was loud and clear, delivered with one simple word, but it was enough, enough for it to click in your mind. You didn’t try to catch your heart as it sank deeper and deeper inside you, as it sank down to the ground and came closer and closer to shattering into tiny little pieces that would take you ages to glue together again.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your tongue was a mess in it and the words sat deep in your stomach. It took you two more tries, two more times of you opening and closing your mouth for you to finally unknot your tongue and drag the words to the surface.

“You haven’t forgiven me, have you?”

You worded it like a question, but you knew the answer. It was written all across Jungkook’s face, surrounding him the moment you and he had locked eyes, spilling from his mouth every time he opened it.

Jungkook’s lips tightened into a hard line and his jaw locked up as he eyed you before ripping his gaze away to stare off into the sky and scoff quietly into the air. His hands balled up into fists at his side and his Adam’s apple bopped up and down as he desperately tried to keep his composure. 

You had seen all of this before, had watched him try and fail not to punch the air and let his anger out. Jungkook had done the exact same thing, had made the same face after you had told him you were going to America.

You expected him to blow up in your face, to explode, to burst at all of his seams and rip apart and scream, yell, curse at you because that was what he had done, what he had done the last time, but to your surprise, Jungkook didn’t, didn’t do any of the things you had expected him to.

“Fours years,” Jungkook scoffed, holding up four fingers like you didn’t know just how much four was. “We dated for almost four fucking years.”

You bit on your tongue, heart tumbling and rumbling in your chest like it was about to burst out and fall to her knees and beg for Jungkook’s forgiveness.

“And you left,” Jungkook continued, anger dripping from his words, but his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “Just like that.” 

He snapped his finger and you cringed at the sound. It rang in your ears, pierced through your eardrums.

“Remember our promise?” Jungkook asked you and you could hear his voice wavering and shaking. “Remember our promise of forever?”

You wanted to tell him that you did, that, of course, you fucking remembered your promise of forever. It had haunted you, kept you awake every night, eaten you up and chewed you out every morning and kicked you to the floor every time it slipped your mind the tiniest bit.

“You know how people say that you always learn something from a relationship?” Jungkook asked you and you wanted to beg him not to, not to continue. You couldn’t handle this, couldn’t handle this much longer and you weren’t sure just how long you could keep it together.

“The only thing you taught me was that people are selfish.”

You were sure that you were drawing blood from your tongue now, were sure that your heart was on her knees now and begging, begging for Jungkook to just please forgive her. You thought that was it, thought he was going to scoff at you and walk away, but Jungkook wasn’t quite done.

“I really do hope that you’re right and we won’t see each other again after this.”

If you thought that Jungkook’s eyes were cold before, they were icy and freezing now. They were icy and freezing enough to bring in the new ice age, icy and freezing enough to stop time. Your lungs were shredded by the icicles, ripped apart by them like they were paper, and your heart shattered on the frozen ground, turning into dust before ultimately being dragged away by the wind and into Jungkook’s hands. And he crushed it, crushed the tiny pieces of your heart into powder.

There was no repairing anymore, no glueing the pieces together because there was nothing to repair or glue together or fix in any way or form.

Jungkook didn’t say another word, didn’t spare you a single glance when he turned on his heel and walked away, walked away with your pulverised heart on the ground and your world cold and frozen. The golden rivers didn’t burst through the ice, the boats didn’t unfreeze and start sailing again, the fireflies didn’t come back to life.

It stayed, lingered.

Your world took its time to come back, and you watched it, watched it slowly resemble what it once had been before Jungkook. When you looked at it, however, it wasn’t quite the same. The golden rivers weren’t rivers, but only weak streams, and the boats had shrunk into simple rafts. The fireflies were only humming now, barely illuminating their surroundings.

And this time, when you looked down, you didn’t forget, didn’t forget about the world around you, didn’t forget about the aching of your heart every time you looked at Jungkook.

This time, you didn’t forget that Jungkook and you weren’t dating anymore.

This time, you almost suffocated.

By the time you had reached your table, you slumped into your chair, falling into it with wobbly knees, defeated and panting. Taehyung and Heejin were too wrapped up in a conversation to really take notice and Jungkook, well, Jungkook did the thing he had grown to excel this evening, staring into nothing.

There was a jacket around Heejin’s shoulders, hugging her form and it took you one single glance to know. One glance was enough to prompt you to reach for your glass of wine and down it. The wine burned your tongue and your throat on its way down, and it was what you needed.

Because the jacket wasn’t just any jacket. It was the jacket you had bought for Jungkook with the money you had gotten for your 17th birthday, was the jacket he had called his favourite, was the jacket you had worn as much as he had, was the jacket both of you had used as a blanket when you had held a film marathon the day before school started again, was the jacket you had worn when you had told him you were going and he had demanded back from you.

And now, Heejin was wearing that jacket.

“You okay, sweetie?” 

You looked up and stared straight into Taehyung’s face. His brows were raised and you could feel Heejin’s eyes on you too. And you almost frowned at him and questioned the ‘sweetie’, but then it hit you again. You were dating Taehyung.

“Yeah, uh, I just had a shitty phone call,” you dismissed quickly with a wave of your hand, realising that you definitely shouldn’t have one-shotted your wine like that. “It’s fine. I’m just a little tired from talking.”

Heejin nodded at your words and seemed happy with the answer, but Taehyung’s eyes stayed on you for a few more seconds. He could read between the lines, could piece together what had happened outside.

“What were you talking about?” you asked, gaze finding Heejin because looking at her was easier than looking at Taehyung. 

“Oh,” Heejin placed her hands on your armrest and a frown settled on her face, “we were talking about films. Did you know that Taehyung has never watched ‘Titanic’ before?”

Your eyes wandered to Taehyung who had put on a smile and was shaking his head at Heejin’s words, but you could see that he wanted to question you, ask you what had happened outside.

“You haven’t?” you asked, trying to change the subject from you to him.

“The only film I haven’t watched yet.”

“Can you believe?” Heejin said it like it was a big deal and to her, it seemed to be. Her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were blown out as she looked at you, obviously expecting for you to react the same way, thinking you were going to be as appalled as she was by the fact that Taehyung had yet to watch ‘Titanic’.

Maybe if you were in a better mood or maybe if Jungkook wasn’t sitting literally an arm’s reach from you or maybe if Heejin wasn’t his current girlfriend right now, you would play along, act appalled and criticise Taehyung for never having watched ‘Titanic’, call him a film illiterate even though you haven’t watched it yourself yet.

“I mean, I’ve also never-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Y/N,” Heejin cut in and while everything was in good fun, you couldn’t help but feel miffed and weirded out by her words. You two didn’t know each other and acting like you did was, well, weird to say the least.

But Heejin didn’t pick up on your tightening smile and slight raise of your brows, too busy acting appalled to notice any of that.

“Okay, that’s it. It’s decided.” Heejin clapped into her hands and looked at Jungkook to grab his attention. “I’m hosting a film night at my place next week. I can’t walk this Earth knowing that you two have never seen the masterpiece that is ‘Titanic’. It’s a must, a cult classic.”

Your eyes locked with Taehyung’s first and he had the same panicked look on his face before he turned to Jungkook, but you avoided his general direction, not wanting to look at him.

“Wait, no, babe, you can’t just host a film night,” Jungkook jumped to argue with Heejin and you swallowed.

“I really do hope you’re right and we won’t see each other again after this.”

“Why not?” Heejin asked with a tilt of her head and blinked at Jungkook as he stammered for a reason.

“Because- you just can’t. That’s not how this works.” A deep line formed between Jungkook’s brows and Heejin as she frowned at his unconvincing argument.

“What do you mean it’s not how this works? If you wanna host a film night, you ask people if they are down for it and host it. I just did that.”

Taehyung and you looked at each other, both deciding to stay silent. Not only was this the most that Jungkook had contributed to this ‘double date’ so far (without counting your conversation you had had with him outside, of course), but it didn’t seem like either of your places to chime in.

“No, babe, you announced you were going to have a film night and essentially demanded them to be there,” Jungkook said and Taehyung and you shared another glance. Heejin furrowed her brows and a pout formed on her lips. She wasn’t taking this nearly as serious as Jungkook was, but it seemed to dawn on her that he was.

“I don’t see where the problem is, babe. I thought you guys were all friends. Isn’t a film night a great way to reconnect then?”

Jungkook opened his mouth to argue against her, but he couldn’t come up with something to say. He wanted to tell Heejin that reconnecting with you was at the bottom of his list of things he wanted to do right now, wanted to tell her that you weren’t just an old friend of his, but his first love, the girl who had meant the world to him for years, the girl who had taken his heart and kept it before deciding it and he simply weren’t enough and shattering his heart, breaking it into dust and leaving him having to pick up the pieces again. 

You were the girl who had haunted him every hour of the day ever since you had left.

“Isn’t it great that we found a couple that’s cool and our age? We can do so much stuff together. Also, Taehyung did say you were all friends once, right? And Taehyung here is still your friend. I really don’t see the problem here. Am I missing something?”

And again, Jungkook was left processing Heejin’s words, prompting Taehyung to jump in.

“Yeah, no, we were friends and, yeah, Kook and I still are friends.” A nervous smile played on his lips as Taehyung shot you a glance, a glance you could barely meet. There was a moment where Heejin was just waiting for any of you to say something, a moment where neither Jungkook nor you met his gaze. It was at that moment that Taehyung made the decision.

“Next week you said?”

By the time you finally step out of the restaurant, the sun had made its way back home and fallen asleep, leaving the golden stream and rafts and fireflies to the moon. 

“Y/N!” You turned around at the call of your name and watched Heejin jogging towards you, hands reaching for your wrists. “Next week, right? Promise me. Next week.”

She smiled right into your face, smiled one of those genuine and big and beautiful smiles, one of those smiles that could charm anybody, and that included you.

“Yeah, next week,” you said and nodded. Heejin’s hands squeezed your wrists and her lips split apart into a grin. With a quick turn of her heel, she was facing Jungkook, who had come to a stop behind her with Taehyung to his left.

“Oh, it’s gonna be great,” she cheered and took hold of Jungkook’s hands now, squeezing as she jumped around him. The displeased look, which had etched onto his face when Heejin had declared this to be a double date and deepened when Taehyung agreed to the film night, slipped away. 

Jungkook couldn’t resist her, couldn’t resist Heejin and for the first time in four years, you saw a smile spread across his lips.

Fuck.

“This was great,” Taehyung cut in before Jungkook could lean in for a quick kiss because he always did, always leaned in for a quick kiss whenever his heart pounded a little too much in his chest, and it definitely did, definitely did pound a little too much just now.

Jungkook and Heejin looked at Taehyung and once again, you froze up when he took your hand into his. The fact that you two were dating slipped your mind again and again throughout the night.

“Yeah, definitely was,” Heejin agreed and interlaced her fingers with Jungkook’s, but unlike with Taehyung and you, it was normal for them to hold hands, second nature. “Right?”

She nudged Jungkook with her elbow and he looked at Heejin, looked at her like he wanted to disagree. Maybe it was because it was rude to disagree and say that one hated the night or maybe it was because Jungkook’s heart melted in his chest seeing Heejin looking at him like that, but a second smile found its way onto Jungkook’s lips.

“Sure was.”

Jungkook said it looking at Heejin, gazing into her sparkling eyes, and you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t, couldn’t because they were like a car accident, but the most beautiful and at the same time, ugliest and most painful car accident this world had ever seen. 

Heejin and Jungkook were in love, in love with each other.

“Right, definitely,” Taehyung cut in, breaking up Heejin and Jungkook as he drew everybody’s attention to him. You squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“We’ll text, yeah?” Taehyung continued and Heejin nodded at his words, beaming as she let go of Jungkook’s hand. You wanted to grab her by her shoulders and tell her not to, not to ever let Jungkook go, but then you realised that she wasn’t actually letting go of him, wasn’t letting go of him the way you had let go of him.

Heejin stretched out her arms and wrapped Taehyung into a hug, a hug he reciprocated without letting go of your hand, which led to you kind of hugging Heejin too. 

“Goodbye, Tae. It was so nice to have met you,” she said into his ear before turning to you and wrapping you into her arms. “So, so nice to have met you, too, Y/N.”

You also didn’t let go of Taehyung’s hand and neither did he when Jungkook leaned in for the hug. 

“Yeah, nice to have met you, too,” you breathed out, quiet, but it was enough for Heejin to pat you on your back and let go.

“We’ll text,” Heejin said as she stepped back to make space for Jungkook to hug you. He and you locked eyes, both knowing exactly what Heejin was expecting of you two. 

There was this terrible moment of hesitance, and you were ready to throw up a hand and give Jungkook a simple wave, but he leaned forward and stretched out one arm. You leaned forward too with your feet planted metres away from him, which led to a rather awkward half-hug thing, but it was definitely more than both of you could offer, more than anyone could really ask for.

Jungkook patted your back two times, and you frowned because who patted someone’s back twice and only twice? The ‘hug’ didn’t last longer than a second before both of you jumped away from each other.

“That was so awkward,” Heejin chortled and threw her head back, loud and beautiful laughter resounding in the air. Jungkook’s cheeks did what they should have done when you had commented on how he had a whole closet in the back of his car: flush.

“Whatever. We’re old friends, remember?” Jungkook argued and it was definitely the sight of Heejin laughing that had him do what he, again, should have done when you had commented on how he had a whole closet in the back of his car: laugh.

“Anyway, we’ll see each other,” Jungkook mumbled into your general direction before taking Heejin’s hand into his and leading her away from you two, throwing up his hand for a wave. Heejin beamed at Taehyung and you and you mustered up the best and most convincing smile for the last time this night.

“Bye. We’ll be in touch.”

“Bye.”

You didn’t say ‘bye’, too focused on the way Jungkook fixed the jacket that was slipping off Heejin’s shoulders, and when it almost landed in the dirt, your heart dropped. You wanted to catch it, take it and hold it close to your heart because that was your jacket. Jungkook caught it though just in time and you let out a breath.

“Really squeezing my hand here, huh?” Taehyung pressed through his smile and you looked down at your hands, realising only now that your knuckles had turned white. Immediately, you let go.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, face flushing hot. Taehyung simply dismissed it with a smile, but you could see him lightly knead his hand, stretching it to get the blood circulating again.

“It’s fine.” Taehyung tilted his head at you. “I guess you don’t have a car yet, right?” You were about to respond, but he didn’t give you enough time. “I can give you a ride.”

“Yeah, that would be great.” You nodded and Taehyung and you made your way to the parking lot. He held the car door open for you and when you were both strapped into your seats, you turned to him. “You didn’t have anything to drink, right?”

“Nope, been sipping on my water the whole night,” he chuckled as he put the keys into the ignition, slowly pulling out of the parking lot. You nodded and sank a little into the seat. The tension that had been sitting in your shoulders and in every single one of your joints slowly escaped you and you let out a sigh.

You typed your address into Taehyung’s phone, Google Maps doing the rest, and for a few minutes, both of you simply drove in silence, enjoyed it. The night had been hard on both of you, and you two were definitely ready to jump into your beds and go to sleep. The silence was exactly what you needed right now, at least you thought that was what you both needed.

“What happened outside?”

You should have expected him to ask because, of course, he would, but it still had you turning your head to him and eyes growing wide. Taehyung met your gaze and you put your hands together in your lap, thumbs rubbing against one another.

“Well,” your feet pressed into the ground, “he, uh, asked me if I was gonna stay here and if we all kept in touch. And,” your voice quivered only the tiniest bit, but Taehyung noticed, “how long I’ve been back and everything.”

You shrugged. “The basic things, you know. Nothing special.”

Taehyung hummed and his brows furrowed together with his lips pulled into a thin line. He was clearly not believing you completely, not buying what you were selling him. You pressed harder against the ground, begging for it to give in and let you sink into a hole.

“Anything else?”

Lying was stupid, lying to Taehyung was even stupider, but you seemed to like to be stupid today.

“Nope.” You said the last syllable with a pop and it had Taehyung’s frown deepening and his gaze digging into you when you two stopped at a red light. 

“Y/N.” A sigh followed and you lowered your gaze before shaking your head as your teeth sank into your tongue.

“Fine,” you breathed out and slammed back, head hitting your seat definitely too hard. “We- well, he-”

Taehyung turned to you, but you stared out the window, realising that you were almost at home now. His eyes dug into your face and you sighed, thinking of a way to word all of this.

“We- technically, we didn’t talk much at all. At least I didn’t,” you started again and took your time to get it all together. “But- he did say that he,” a heavy sigh slipped past your lips and you gnawed on your tongue before deciding to just say it, “learned from our relationship that people are selfish and that he hoped he would never have to see me again after this.”

Taehyung was stunned, stunned silent and you wished he would say something, react in some way. The tension came rising back, stretching every one of your joints to the point it hurt.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Taehyung muttered underneath his breath and when you turned to him, there was anger etched onto every line of his face. It was burning in his eyes and it had you quickly jump to Jungkook’s defense.

“No- it’s fine. I get-”

“No, Y/N, it’s not fucking fine,” Taehyung interrupted and to your dismay, you had reached your front door. He parked rather smoothly and when you came to a stop, Taehyung turned to you.

“Don’t say it’s fine because we both know it’s not,” Taehyung said and you didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s rude, unnecessarily rude. I get it. He’s pissed and you hurt him and whatever, but it’s been four fucking years. And he’s literally the one that broke up with you-”

“Well, I was leaving for America-”

“But you wanted to try, right? You didn’t want to break up, right?” Taehyung asked and you didn’t say anything. “See! You wanted to try, but he refused. Don’t even get me started on the fact that he didn’t say goodbye to you at all. You go to America and he doesn’t even bother to show up at the airport after dating you for almost four years, not to mention text you or call you on the day to wish you well? I haven’t forgotten that bullshit yet.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and lowered your gaze.

Taehyung sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I still love him. He’s my friend after all, and it’s not like I don’t get it why he’s mad. I do, in a way, and not because I ‘hate’,” Taehyung made air quotes around the word hate, “you for going or anything, but because it was surprising. But still saying shit like that is not okay.”

“It’s fine,” you tried again, but your words seem to have the fire in Taehyung growing because he shook his head vigorously.

“Stop saying that! It’s not.” Taehyung paused, taking a moment to breathe. “It’s definitely not. He’s so-” Taehyung threw up his hands and pressed his lips into a hard line, words failing him as his anger consumed him more and more. 

“We all thought he was over it.”

“He isn’t,” you mumbled and Taehyung ‘duh’s your answer, realising himself that Jungkook was far, very far from getting over you leaving, not to mention forgive you in any shape or form.

Both of you sat in silence for a while and your fingers itched for the door handle. You hated this, hated this because Taehyung didn’t get that you were fine, didn’t get that you were fine with the way Jungkook treated you because you had fucked up and now, these were the consequences.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You kept staring out of the window, kept staring like you couldn’t feel Taehyung’s eyes dig into your profile and demand for you to look at him, kept staring like you couldn’t hear him.

“There’s no one forcing you to go next week. You could just simply-”

“I know,” you said and sighed. You leaned forward and covered your eyes, pressing on them slightly as you thought of everything that had happened today, thought of every little interaction you had shared with Jungkook.

“I know,” you muttered before looking up and turning your gaze to Taehyung, cheek falling into your open palm. “I know.”

Taehyung and you looked at each other for a few seconds.

“You’re still gonna go, huh?”

You sat up straight and unbuckled your seatbelt, arms stretching out to pull Taehyung into a hug. He reciprocated it and you tightened your arms around him a little more than you usually would, chin resting on his shoulder.

“You’re still great, Tae.”

Taehyung chuckled and patted your back, sinking deeper into the hug. You were the one to pull away, but you rested your hands on his shoulder and looked him dead in the eye.

“No, really,” you smiled and squeezed his shoulders. “You’re really great, Taehyung.”

Slightly embarrassed by your words, Taehyung looked down at his hands.

“You’re stupid, Y/N.”

You laughed.

When you came out of the shower that night and checked your phone, a frown etched onto your face.

[You’ve been added to the “DD” group chat]

[Unknown Number - 11:24 PM] : hi! it’s heejin here and I just wanted to ask if next saturday works for everyone!!

[Unknown Number sent in location]

[Unknown Number - 11:24 PM] : my address!

[tae - 11:27 PM] : uh DD?

[Unknown Number - 11:27 PM] : double date. couldnt think of anything else realy

[tae - 11:27 PM] : okay lol but yeah should work

[Unknown Number - 11:32 PM] : yeah, think I can make it too

[Unknown Number - 11:32 PM] : okay, great! only gotta wait for y/n’s answer now

[tae - 11:32 PM] : wouldnt expect an answer any time soon lmao shes too stupid to text

[You - 11:48 PM] : you take a shower once and immediately people talk shit about you :)) 

[You - 11:48 PM] : but should work for me too

[tae - 11:48 PM] : love you too sweetie! and goodnight!!

[You - 11:48 PM] : :))))

When you went to save Heejin’s number, you got distracted by her profile picture. She was smiling right into the camera, smiling the same smile she had smiled at you. It was almost scary how genuine her smile looked even through a simple picture. No one smiled like Heejin. 

Her number was saved rather quickly, but when you went and clicked on Jungkook’s number, you were, once again, distracted by his profile picture. You should have expected it for Jungkook to have Heejin and him together as his profile picture, but it still shocked and surprised you, had your lips pressing into a hard line.

Jungkook had his arm around Heejin and she was looking at him, mid-laugh There was a proud smirk on his lips, that proud smirk he got whenever he managed to make someone laugh. Both looked at each other and the sun brought out both of their eyes, brought out the love in them. You could practically see it glimmering in their pupils.

Your heart tumbled in your chest, tumbled in the most painful way possible, but you ignored it, ignored it because what else were you going to do? Complain? You had no right to.

And as you let your phone slip into your pocket, a certain thought planted itself into your mind, robbing you of the peace and quiet you thought you would get once you were at home. The roots dug deeper and deeper into you until it was ingrained in you, swimming through your blood and consuming you whole, chewing you up over and over again simply to spit you out.

You would have been Heejin if you hadn’t left.

“What is she like?”

There was a beat of silence for a moment and you hugged your knees you had pulled close to your body self a little tighter at the question.

Your phone was laying on your desk, speakers on.

“Well,” Taehyung sighed, “she’s- she’s nice, I guess.”

Taehyung said it like a question, clearly choosing his words carefully as he tried not to offend you in any way, and you almost smiled at that. 

“Yeah, she’s nice,” you agreed.

“That’s great,” Yerim started, uncertainty swinging in her words. “Right? That’s great that she’s nice, right?”

No one answered and after a while, you pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s great,” you said and you could hear Yerim exhale in relief. You chewed on your lip, and tried not to think about how it was not great and that you hated that Heejin was nice because it made hating her so much more difficult.

“I’m happy for him.”

This time when you said it, you weren’t sure if you really meant it, weren’t sure if you could say it from the bottom of your heart. Jungkook still, of course, deserved so much more, deserved better, but the thought that he was doing so much better with Heejin left a bad and bitter taste on your tongue. You didn’t want to think or feel like that, but your heart was selfish, just like he had said.

“That’s nice,” Yoongi mumbled and his voice was muffled, but the familiar snarky tone came through perfectly. “Nice of you to lie like that.”

You bit down on your lip and buried your face into your knees.

“Dude,” Taehyung said and used ‘dude’ like he always did whenever he was getting mad and refused to use one’s name. 

“What? We all know it’s a lie,” Yoongi said, matter of factly. “It’s not bad. It’s commendable that Y/N’s trying, but let’s not act dumb and oblivious to it.”

“Yoongi,” Yerim sighed from the other side of the line, groaning. “You can’t just say something like that.”

“We were all thinking it.”

You pressed your face further into your knees, squeezing your eyes shut as you hugged your legs closer to your chest.

“Dude,” Taehyung warned again, voice dropping significantly, and you could picture Yoongi rolling his eyes at him before sitting up to defend himself.

“All I’m trying to say is that it’s stupid to lie and pretend that it doesn’t suck that Kook is with Heejil or whatever her name-”

“Heejin,” Yerim threw in and there was a beat of silence before Yoongi continued again.

“Okay, fine, Heejin, but it doesn’t really matter,” Yoongi paused and the silence that settled was deafening and you begged him to continue. “What matters is the fact that Y/N shouldn’t need to pretend to be happy for him. They both hurt each other and acting like Y/N only hurt him is so fucking stupid. Kook’s really gotta learn how to be civil and not act like a complete ass-”

“Tae!” You cut in and looked at your phone like he could see you. “You told them? I thought we agreed on leaving that out.”

“Please, you seriously didn’t think I wouldn’t tell the others, did you?” Taehyung scoffed and you huffed, brows furrowing together as you fixed your phone with a glare like it was to blame for this.

“And I’m happy that he did tell us, Y/N,” Yoongi said and you groaned, burying your face once more into your knees now. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. I get it that Kook’s mad because it was all very sudden and quick and you were his first love or whatever, but it’s not a reason to be an ass to you.”

You didn’t respond, and for a while, the silence lingered on. It was almost unbearable, but you couldn’t think of anything to say, knowing already you were going to be shut down anyway.

“You don’t have to do this,” Yoongi said and sounded exactly like Taehyung. You looked up and put your chin on top of your knee before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Yeri?”

There was a shuffle and a moment later it was followed by a sigh. “No, I do agree with the others. Kook can be mad and everything—we all get it in a way—but it’s not an excuse to be an ass to you and say hurtful shit like that. You’re not selfish for following your dreams. Also, didn’t he technically break up with you? So, actually, I don’t get why he’s still mad at you.”

You stayed silent.

“Again, you-”

“I know, Yoongs,” you groaned. “I know that I don’t have to do this,” a heavy sigh slipped past your lips, “but it’s just this one time anyway and unlike what you guys might think, I’m not hurt by what he said.”

Neither Taehyung nor Yerim nor Yoongi said something for a while and just as the silence was about to become too unbearable and just as you were about to tell them you had to do something and therefore, hang up, Taehyung spoke up.

“You’re stupid, Y/N.”

You peeled your eyes open and lowered your gaze, a tight smile splitting apart on your lips.

“I know.”

You couldn’t recall how this had happened, how a simple film night turned into a dinner party, but somehow you were all standing in the middle of Heejin’s kitchen, preparing dinner. Taehyung and Jungkook were manning the stove, cooking the meat and Heejin and you were cutting up vegetables for a salad.

“Careful!”

You froze at Heejin’s voice and looked up, eyes locking with hers. Jungkook and Taehyung stopped messing around and turned their focus to you two, brows raising at the sudden exclamation. When you looked back down where Heejin’s fingers had curled around your wrist, you realised that you were about to cut off your fingers. Immediately, you let go of the knife and forced a laugh to spill from your lips.

“Shit. Good catch.”

“You okay? Almost cut off your fingers there,” Heejin said with a small smile and you quickly nodded, ignoring the gazes that were digging into your back. 

“Yeah, uh, just spaced out a little,” you mumbled and Heejin laughed, returning to cutting up the rest of her carrots. 

You grabbed your glass of wine and when you took a sip from it, your eyes locked with Taehyung’s. There was a deep line etched between his brows and in an attempt to smooth it over, you smiled at him. It took him a second, but he smiled back at you and seeing his smile had your smile turn into a genuine one.

Your gaze wandered and locked with Jungkook’s. You looked at him without meaning to. Your gaze just automatically travelled to him. His face was stiff and hard. Harsh lines were carved into it and you thought he was going to say something, scoff at you, but then he turned around without a word.

Taehyung and you looked at each other once more and his jaw locked up, but you shook your head. When he sighed, you thanked him with a smile and turned away, putting your wine glass down to focus on your vegetables again.

“Oh.”

Heejin stopped and looked up, raising her brows at your sudden exclamation.

“What?” she asked with a tilt of her head and you pointed at the cucumber on her cutting board.

“I, uh, like them diced more,” you said and Heejin blinked at you, expecting you to be joking. “Yeah, I- I just think cucumbers taste better diced.”

You shrugged and Heejin’s light laugh filled the air before she nodded and started dicing the cucumber.

“Okay, sure thing. Diced cucumbers it is.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks.” 

Heejin waved it off. You stopped yourself from shaking your head at yourself because a week ago, Taehyung and you were rolling your eyes at Jungkook for preferring his cucumbers diced, but here you were, making sure his cucumbers were going to be cut the way he liked them.

“So, tell me,” Heejin started when you picked up the knife. She tucked her hair away and looked at you. “What was Kook like in high school?”

You stopped chopping your tomatoes and bit on your lip. You struggled to think of something to say and Heejin’s staring certainly didn’t make it any easier.

“He, uh, well, the same, I think,” you started and your words had Heejin chuckling. “I mean, I don’t think he really changed that much since.” You kept cutting up your tomatoes, eyes focused on the task in front of you. “At least, I doubt it. He didn’t change much during high school, so, I don’t think he did now.”

“Well, what was he like during high school?” Heejin asked again, not getting the answer she had been fishing for.

“Funny and kind,” you said without missing a beat and surprised yourself. You paused before shrugging and transferring your tomato wedges inside the big salad bowl. “He’s—not to gas him up—but he’s always been funny and kind, I guess. Like, he’s just always had a good heart.” You took the last tomato, starting to cut it up into wedges too. “He’s always just cared about others around him and tried to make others happy. It’s- it’s really nice and sweet.”

“That’s-”

“Like, one time he stayed after school with,” you quickly swallowed the ‘me’, “uh, one of our friends for hours because they had lost their keys. And they didn’t even ask him to stay. He just did it himself and helped them out because they were, like, freaking out and on the brink of tears. And they weren’t even friends at that point. They were just classmates, but he- that didn’t matter to him. He helped them nevertheless.”

You laughed at the memory a little, remembering clearly how panicked you had been when you had realised that you had lost your keys.

“But he also definitely has his dramatic tendencies, and he’s also very picky with his food. I’m sure you know by now- oh, and he’s constantly late. At this point, it’s just chronic. Don’t get me started on his shitty excuses.”

You put away the last tomato wedges and your grip around the knife loosened. With your eyes on your hands, you sighed and without noticing, a smile stretched across your lips.

“But nevertheless, he’s a really amazing and great person.”

Heejin had long stopped dicing the cucumber and simply stared at you. When you looked up to her, you realised that maybe you had said too much. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the realisation and you were about to dismiss your words when a smile grew on Heejin’s lips.

“That’s great to hear,” she said and you couldn’t figure out if she meant it or not. “Sounds like you two were close.”

“Well, no- He was known for being kind and funny at our school. Ask anybody, they’d say the same thing about him,” you laughed and you hoped you could hide the wavering of your voice. “And if anyone was close to him, then it was Taehyung.”

“What was I?”

Taehyung stood next to you and you were about to respond when he took one of the tomato wedges and plopped them into his mouth. He stopped chewing when he saw the diced cucumbers and he looked at you, but you avoided his gaze.

“Don’t eat all of them. It’s for the salad. Also, are you done with your thing?” you said when he mindlessly reached for a second tomato wedge. You slapped his hand away, eliciting a gasp and whine from him.

“You’re mean, Y/N,” a pout formed on Taehyung’s lips, but you simply rolled your eyes at him, “and, yeah, Kook is finishing everything up.” He rubbed his hand. “Also, what was I?”

You sighed and put down the knife, reaching for the kitchen towel hanging from Taehyung’s shoulder to wipe your hands on it. “Close to him during high school.”

Taehyung raised his brows for a second before his gaze wandered behind you and it clicked in his mind. “Talking about the past, huh?”

“Yeah, Kook rarely ever talks about it,” Heejin said and you took the little piece of uncut cucumber from her cutting board, wanting to busy yourself with something.

“What are you guys talking about?” Jungkook turned off the stove and walked up to you, stopping behind Heejin.

“High school,” Taehyung said and Jungkook’s eyes shot to you. His gaze dug into you, but you acted like you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel him looking at you and instead kept your focus on dicing the cucumber in front of you.

“Yeah, you never wanna talk about it, babe,” Heejin repeated again and Jungkook frowned at her words.

“It wasn’t a good time.”

For just a second, you stopped focusing on the cucumber and instead focused on the icicles slowly forming in your lungs and the piercing breeze blowing through your chest, but you pulled it together and ignored the cold spreading through you.

“Wait, seriously?” Heejin asked and looked at Jungkook with raised brows. 

“Yeah, I guess-” Jungkook shrugged and you could feel Taehyung’s eyes on you as you poured the diced cucumbers into the salad bowl. “It wasn’t-”

Jungkook looked over to you for a second, but you didn’t meet his gaze. You just kept staring at the cutting board and over your head, Taehyung shot Jungkook a look that almost resembled a glare. 

“I just don’t like thinking back to that time.” Jungkook shrugged once more and you let go of the knife. It hit the cutting board with a faint thud that had your face contorting and Taehyung tensing up next to you. His fingers pulled on your wrist and wrapped around it, thumb brushing over your skin to soothe you, but it did nothing to thaw the icicles hanging from your lungs, sharp and ready to steal your breath.

“I mean it’s not like it was awful or anything. I did have my friends and a g- uh, stuff like that, and at the time, I thought it was great,” Jungkook continued on, and your heart froze up more and more with each of his words.

His eyes wandered to you, digging into you as he continued,

“But great things always have to come to an end.”

Taehyung was glued to your side for the rest of the time, and you thanked him with a smile when you felt like you could muster up one. He shot one right back at you and by the time dinner was actually served, you had almost completely forgotten about Jungkook’s words and the way they had frozen up your heart.

You almost forgot.

Because for some reason, you were the one sitting across from Jungkook. When Taehyung and you had noticed, you couldn’t switch anymore. And so, Jungkook and you made sure to keep your heads low and your legs tucked underneath your chairs.

“How come?”

You looked up and blinked at Heejin as she quickly swallowed the rice to continue talking.

“How come both of you haven’t watched ‘Titanic’?” she asked and pointed between Taehyung and you. 

“I don’t think there’s necessarily a reason, right?” you said and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. He hummed in agreement and shrugged, stuffing his face with some of the salad.

“Do you guys just not like romcoms?”

“Uh, wouldn’t say we don’t like them,” Taehyung mumbled, “but we don’t really watch them either.”

“Yeah, most are just a little too unrealistic for me,” you added and took a sip from your wine. 

“I get that. Unrealistic romcoms are definitely the worst,” Heejin laughed. “Kook and I really enjoy romcoms though.”

You almost told Heejin that you knew that, that you knew very much that Jungkook was a sucker for romcoms. He had been the romantic of you two, taking you out on the most extra dates, making sure that you always felt special, trying his hardest to make your relationship into a romcom.

“Netflix has put out some really great and realistic ones though recently,” Heejin continued. ”Like, ‘Set It Up’ is really great and funny and ‘To All The Boys I’ve Ever Loved Before’ while a little more cheesy, is still very great.”

“You really like romcoms, don’t you?” you asked and Heejin beamed at your question, clearly excited about the prospect of talking about romcoms in depth.

“Yeah, I absolutely love them,” she sighed and leaned forward a little, her smile widening. You smiled back at her because it was truly hard not to smile at Heejin.

“What’s your favourite one?” you asked and Heejin’s smile grew into a grin, eyes glossing over as the excitement etched onto her face. 

“Hard question, but I’d say ‘About Time’ and ‘Someone Great’ are some of my favourites,” Heejin said and you perked up.

“Didn’t we watch ‘About Time’?” You looked over to Jungkook without meaning to and when he met your gaze, his eyes were big and flushed with panic. Quickly, you added, “We watched it together, right? All of us?”

Your head whipped around to Taehyung and he was mid-bite, caught off guard. 

“Yeah, no, we, uh, did,” Taehyung coughed out, slightly choking on his rice.

“Wasn’t it great?” Heejin said with a big grin and you nodded, taking a big sip from your wine.

“W-what was the other one again? ‘Someone Great’? What is that one about? I don’t think I’ve heard of it,” you said, changing the topic. Jungkook quickly went back to focusing on his food, but Taehyung was still looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh, it’s about Jenny—she’s the main character—who is a journalist, and she lands her dream job, but to fulfill it, she has to move across the country,” Heejin started to explain and you thought you were hearing wrong. You almost choked on your own spit and you weren’t the only one noticing the similarities because Jungkook slowly raised his head and looked at you.

“Her boyfriend, Nate, of, I think, nine or ten years ends up breaking up with her because of it and then she and her friends, like, try to forget about everything and cheer her up. It’s a really good film. They also all have their own respective relationship problems and we also get to see Jenny’s and her boyfriend’s relationship through flashbacks,” Heejin finished up telling and Taehyung’s hand found yours. You let go of your fork to interlace your fingers with his because right now, you needed someone to hold onto.

“It’s not your conventional romcom,” Heejin said with a smile. “It’s why I love it so much. It totally brings up the question of love or work and what’s the right choice.”

You hummed and looked away, deciding not to look at Jungkook because you didn’t want to see the way his features contort and harden. You had seen it once already, had seen his face split apart in pain once before. You had seen it when you had told him you were leaving, and ever since, you hadn’t gotten it out of your head. It had haunted you all of these years. 

You knew if you looked at Jungkook right now, the guilt and bad memories would bubble up and chew you out again. A lump would lodge itself into your throat and your heart would tighten into an impossible knot and everything in your body would ache and scream and tears would prick your eyes and your lungs would freeze to ice. 

At the sight of it, you would be left on the floor, gutted and breathless and in pain and frozen.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You were more than caught off guard by the question and you scrunched up your brows, tilting your head to the side as you met Heejin’s gaze.

“Like, the fact that her boyfriend broke up with her and she essentially had to choose between love and work. What do you think about that?” Heejin blinked at you and her expression was hard to read. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her brows were slightly raised.

You stammered for something to say, incredibly aware that all eyes were on you. Jungkook seemed to be staring holes into you, almost like he was challenging you to say the wrong thing. Taehyung squeezed your hand even tighter now and you couldn’t thank him enough because it offered you enough strength to croak out, 

“I don’t know.”

For a moment, there was silence.

“Well, I think it was fair of her boyfriend to break up with her because leaving like that was just shitty,” Jungkook piped up and Taehyung scoffed quietly underneath his breath, whispering an ‘of course’ to himself.

“I wouldn’t say breaking up with her was fair at all,” Taehyung argued and you squeezed Taehyung’s hands, wishing he wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t start all of this, but you couldn’t get through him. He couldn’t feel your hand tightening around his, could only feel the anger coursing through his veins.

“How is breaking up with her not fair if they were going to break up anyway? It was inevitable. She essentially left him for a job. Might as well just do it instead of dragging it out,” Jungkook said and put down his fork and knife, leaning back to cross his arms in front of his chest.

“Dude, no, it wasn’t,” Taehyung spat out and tried his hardest to keep his voice level. “They could have tried, tried to work it out somehow. Maybe they would have broken up later, but not trying at all and then being mad at the other person is not fair at all and fucking ridiculous.”

Heejin looked between Jungkook and Taehyung as they threw words at each other’s heads like doing so would make the other understand. You sank deeper into the chair and never more did you wish for a hole to appear underneath you and swallow you. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if the hole swallowed you and never spat you out again.

The conversation had taken a different turn than Heejin had intended it to go and you hoped and prayed she wouldn’t piece it together, wouldn’t figure out what exactly was being said right now, wouldn't manage to read between the lines.

“Can you really blame her boyfriend, though?” Jungkook was slipping now. The anger was consuming him slowly and wholly, taking over him. “I- he must have been so caught off guard by the news that she was moving away. It’s not okay or fair to keep that shit from him all the time and then expect him to be fine with it or supportive after telling him-”

“Yeah, I get it. It sucks that she kept it from y- him, but ever thought that there was a reason, huh?” Taehyung was breaking as well and the mask of friendliness and neutrality was sliding off, sliding off so fast he couldn’t catch it. Not that he bothered to. ”Ever thought that she kept it a secret from him because she was scared and didn’t want to hurt him? Like, fine, dude, be mad at the moment, but hating her forever and not even bidding her goodbye-”

“You don’t seem to get just how hurt I- he was, Taehyung. It’s not that easy-”

“How is it not that easy to be a decent human being? If he loved her, if he really loved her, he would have realised that it was her dream and wished her well-”

“Well, if she really loved him, she wouldn’t have left him like that! But she did because she’s selfish.” 

At this point, Jungkook and Taehyung were essentially screaming at each other, words bitter and far too loud.

“Dude, how is it selfish to chase your dreams? Also, what the fuck are you trying to say? Is she meant to always choose him over everything-”

“No, that’s literally not what I’m saying. She should have talked to him-”

“And she did, but he didn’t listen. What was she gonna do? Harass him into listening?”

“No, because at that point, when he refused to listen, she had already messed it all up! She had already broken him. Fuck, they were literally dating for years and years and one day, she just tells him she’s gonna leave? Like, what the actual fuck? What about their promise of forever? What about that? Was he not enough for her now?”

Jungkook was glaring at Taehyung with his eyes blown out wide and his chest heaving, lungs aching for air.

“She can go fuck herself for that!”

Your knuckles turned white around Taehyung’s hand and your teeth sank into your tongue. It was your poor attempt to numb the pain rippling through you now with even more pain.

Jungkook’s words were dripping with venom and anger. They sliced into you and pushed out any warmth inside you, leaving you freezing and cold. They poisoned you, sent the icicles crashing down from where they had been hanging, and they pierced through your lungs and filled them up with blood. You could feel yourself choke, suffocate slowly and painfully as his words replayed over and over again in your mind like a broken record.

You wanted to press your eyes shut and run away. You didn’t want to hear any of it anymore, didn’t want to have to listen to Taehyung and Jungkook screaming at each other, yelling like it was a battle of who could be the loudest.

Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s and while his stare was cold and hard, colder and harder than you had ever seen it, there seemed to be something else glimmering in his eyes too. And that something made him look like he knew he had gone too far, look like he knew exactly what his words were doing to you, but right now, he didn’t care, didn’t care just how much he was hurting you because in his mind, you had hurt him first, had hurt him worse.

So, hurting you was okay, justified even.

Taehyung fixed Jungkook with a glare, but he simply held his own, eyes digging into Taehyung’s as much as his eyes were digging into Jungkook’s. Taehyung’s nostrils were flared and his jaw was locked to the point it had to hurt. Both slipped into a staring contest either were more than determined to win.

At the end though, it was Jungkook who tore his gaze away, but the anger and frustration were etched onto every line and edge of his face. 

Taehyung scoffed before throwing his fork down on the plate and jumping up. His chair hit the floor and you were about to pick it up when he yanked on your hand. You stumbled after him more than anything else and as Taehyung led you around the table and out of the kitchen, your gaze met Heejin’s.

Her brows were drawn together and for once, there was no hint of a smile on her lips. You wanted to apologise to her, tell her it was all fine—even though you weren’t even sure if it was—but then you saw her hand on his knee underneath the table and suddenly, there was an unbelievably uncomfortable knot sitting in your throat, stopping you.

“I hope you don’t choke on your fucking diced cucumbers, dude.”

[yoongs - 08:23 PM] : @y/n @tehyung how is the dinner going?

[yeri - 08:34 PM] : ohh, yeah, how is it? are you guys still stuck watching jack draw rose like one of his ~french girls~??

[yeri - 08:34 PM] : also yoongs do you have taes name saved wrong in your phone??? wtf

[yoongs - 08:57 PM] : have you guys gotten to that stupid door scene yet?

[yeri - 09:14 PM] : are you ignoring me? 

[yoongs - 09:43 PM] : @y/n @tehyung didnt you guys say youd try to go home asap

[yoongs - 09:43 PM] : how long is dinner and a film? or are you guys ignoring us?

[yeri - 09:45 PM] : tae, are you ignoring us like yoongs is ignoring me right now?? like y/n i get bc she sucks at texting, but you? tae? not responding? :o

[You - 04:57 AM] : hey, yoongs! please dont say anything to yeri or tae, but could you give me his address? kinda urgent.

[yoongs - 09:14 AM] : are you okay? why are you texting me at 4?

[You - 09:14 AM] : im fine. ill tell you all about it later. just give me his address please

[yoongs - 09:15 AM] : uff fine

[yoongs sent in location]

[yoongs - 09:15 AM] : its 201

In high school, you hadn’t been nearly as close to Taehyung as you were now. It wasn’t because you hadn’t been friends with each other, but rather because he had been so close to Jungkook already. Even after your friend group had formed, the two always had a different kind of bond, a deeper one. And even after Jungkook and you had started dating, their bond had been just as strong as yours had been with Jungkook. 

It had never bothered you because Taehyung and Jungkook had known each other forever, had known each other since they were in diapers. In fact, Yerim, Yoongi and you had always poked fun at that, always joked that those two were the true couple of your friend group. 

It was why you should have expected this to happen when you knocked on Taehyung’s front door.

“Jungkook?”

Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him with big eyes. He was equally as shocked as you were, clearly not checking who it had been before opening the door.

“How’d you get in?” he asked with a furrow of his brows and you stammered before pointing behind you.

“Uh, someone let me in when they were walking out,” you explained and Jungkook scoffed slightly, head shaking from left to right as he cursed his neighbour.

Jungkook was donning a simple white T-Shirt and grey swats. You had seen him in this outfit more times than you could count when you had dated, but it still had your heart quickening because, fuck, he did look good dressed like that.

And as you stared at him, all of the memories of yesterday came rushing back to you and immediately, you lowered your gaze to your feet.

“He isn’t here. Didn’t come home yesterday,” Jungkook mumbled, knowing exactly why you were here and that you definitely were not here for him. Judging from your reaction upon seeing him, you hadn’t expected to see him. Another scoff almost escaped him, but somehow, he managed to swallow it. 

When you looked back up to him, Jungkook was already walking away, but the door stood wide open. Interpreting him leaving the door open as inviting you inside, you stepped in and closed the door behind you.

You tightened your grip around your tote bag as you walked inside, steps light. You were ready to run right out if Jungkook was to ask you why the fuck you invited yourself inside, but he didn’t. He just walked into the living room and sat down on his U shaped couch before pulling out his phone and mindlessly scrolling through it.

Unsure what to do—not only because you had never been here before, but also because you hadn’t expected to see Jungkook—you stopped behind him, not daring to take a single step inside the living room.

It was small and most of the room was taken up by the U shaped couch, but somehow it still looked home-y and cozy. Something about it, about the way the furniture was arranged and the room was decorated screamed comfort and you knew Jungkook was to thank for it. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, just sit. Looks like I’m not letting you.”

You snapped around to see Jungkook rolling his eyes at you. He gestured around him, offering you the rest of the couch, but you hesitated to do just what he had told you to. His eyes continued to burn into you and after a second and some internal debating, you wandered around the couch and sat down, choosing the seat that was furthest from Jungkook’s.

The gap between you two was huge, enough to fit Taehyung, Yerim and Yoongi between it, and you were more than thankful for it because the tension was palpable, thick, so thick a knife couldn’t even cut through it, so thick it could stop a bullet.

You put down your tote bag next to you, but you held it close to you, protecting the food inside. After a few seconds of silence, you pulled out your phone, unlocking it to open Taehyung’s and your chat.

[You - 09:32 AM] : where, uh, are you right now?

[You - 09:32 AM] : please come home asap. im sitting in the living room with him and its awkward as fuck. hurry

[You - 09:32 AM] : also why the fuck didnt you tell me you lived w him??

You were about to make a new group chat, add Yoongi and Yerim to it and panic text them when Taehyung came online and started typing.

[tae - 09:32 AM] : wtf??

[tae - 09:33 AM] : why the fuck ar u at my place?? you know where i lve?

[tae - 09:33 AM] : im there asap

[You - 09:33 AM] : i made you food as a way to say sorry

[tae - 09:33 AM] : go into my room its in the back. on the left second dor

[tae - 09:33 AM] : why sorry????

[You - 09:34 AM] : okay good. hurry

[You - 09:34 AM] : uh well your fight with him???? you forgot abt it?

[tae - 09:34 AM] : no ofc not

[tae - 09:34 AM] : but

[You - 09:34 AM] : omfg what does it matter. just come home

[tae - 09:35 AM] : fine

You sighed and hoped that Taehyung was going to come back in the next ten minutes or so because you couldn’t stand being in a room with Jungkook any longer. You just couldn’t forget that he was right here, that he was just sitting a few metres away from you, in the same room as you.

“But she did because she’s selfish.”

“When he refused to listen, she had already messed it all up!”

“She had already broken him.”

“He wasn’t enough for her now?”

“What about their promise of forever?”

“She can go fuck herself for that!”

You pressed your lips together and let your head fall, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to block it all out, tried not to think, but it was hard, hard when the person you had hurt the most in the world was sitting right there. You wanted to fall to your knees and beg for Jungkook’s forgiveness, but you doubted you had a right to even do that, not to mention talk to him.

The guilt had been eating you up since yesterday evening and continued on as you laid in bed, desperately trying to get some sleep. In the end, you watched the sun creep up the sky, painting your hometown in a tragic orange. 

“Here.”

You peeled your eyes open at the sound before slowly raising your head to see Jungkook standing right in front of you, hands buried in his sweats. He nodded towards the coffee table and when you looked at it, a cup of coffee was sitting on top of it.

“Looks like you haven’t slept in years,” Jungkook scoffed, almost like his words were meant to hurt you, but for once, for the first time since you had seen him again, they had warmth spreading through you. 

“Oh, thanks.”

You reached for the cup of coffee, and it was bordering on cold, but when you took a sip from it, you could feel the sun start to shine in your chest and thaw the remnants of the icicles that had stayed behind from yesterday, shine away the mess that yesterday had left behind.

“Thanks,” you mumbled again, but Jungkook had already turned on his heel and sat down again. You didn’t care, didn’t care because that had just been the first somewhat civil interaction Jungkook and you had shared and you couldn’t help but treasure it.

If you were completely honest, the coffee tasted okay at best and kind of bad at worst, and maybe it was because you were incredibly tired so any caffeine was welcomed or maybe it was because Jungkook had given you the cup of coffee, but somehow that was the best cup of coffee you had ever had. It dissolved on your tongue in the best way possible. 

“Uh,” you turned to Jungkook and he looked up from his phone, brows shooting up as his lips pulled into a thin line. You wanted to say something, but your voice had to have dissolved with the coffee because you couldn’t get it to come out.

You simply pointed at your empty cup of coffee and after a few more seconds of incredibly awkward staring, you managed to croak out, “Where can I put, uh-”

“Just leave it on the coffee table,” Jungkook said before immediately turning back to his phone. You nodded nevertheless and did as you were told.

You pulled out your phone too, and, so, you two sat there for a while in silence as you waited for Taehyung to come home. Almost twenty minutes had passed at this point and because you were too focused on your phone, you didn’t notice Jungkook turn off his phone and put it back in his pocket, didn’t notice him press his lips into a thin line before sighing and looking up to you.

“You remember how I like my cucumbers cut?”

Your eyes shot to him and you could feel the heat crawl up your neck at the question, recalling clearly how he had reacted when you had insinuated how well you still knew him, how that had led to him fixing you with the most piercing stare and ended with him telling you that you taught him that people were selfish and that he hoped you were right and that he didn’t have to see you again after this.

“Uh,” you started before carefully continuing, “yeah. I- I do.”

And it was then that you watched Jungkook crack a smile.

He smiled like he hadn’t essentially told you to go fuck yourself yesterday, smiled like you hadn’t broken his heart, smiled like everything was fine between you two. For the first few seconds, you thought your brain was playing a joke on you, thought you were seeing wrong and that the coffee was hitting you just really hard, but then-

“I thought it was dumb that I prefered diced cucumbers.” Jungkook scrunched up his nose and tilted his head at you, and a smile stretched across your lips, heart tumbling in your chest.

“It is,” you said, “but I’ve been kind of dumb these days.”

You shrugged and Jungkook’s smile widened the tiniest bit, and you had to bite on your lip to stop your smile from growing into a grin, from growing a little too big.

“I swear they taste better diced-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned and rolled your eyes at Jungkook in faux annoyance. “You still seriously think that-”

“I don’t think, I-”

“Yeah, I know you don’t think,” you said and slipped back into teasing Jungkook like nothing had ever happened between you two, like you had never left, like he hadn’t hated and resented you for it, like you hadn’t hurt each other, like yesterday hadn’t happened.

Jungkook gasped at your words, and you giggled when you saw the smile pulling on the corners of his lips that he was so desperately trying to hide, relieved to know that you hadn’t crossed a line.

“Damn, I didn’t miss this, Y/N,” Jungkook said with a light laugh and you noticed instantly that Jungkook had said your name. Your heart tumbled in your chest, involuntarily, and as much as you had tried to hide it by biting it away, a grin split apart on your lips.

For once, there was no tension in the air, no cold lingering around you two, no icicles forming in your lungs. For once, your joints weren’t tightening to the point it hurt and ached, no stiffness stretching you straight. For once, you felt somewhat comfortable around Jungkook, somewhat at ease.

“What did you miss then?” 

“You.”

The answer slipped past Jungkook’s lips, rolled off his tongue without a second thought and you knew it, knew he hadn’t meant to say that, knew he hadn’t intentionally said it when you saw the blood rush to his face and paint his cheeks a bright and blaring red.

Your lips parted slightly and you blinked at Jungkook. Both of you both fell silent again and snapped your heads around, avoiding each other’s gazes as much as possible. And slowly, you could feel the tension fill up the room again, seep into every crack of the room, but this time it was different. 

This time the silence was loud, louder than Taehyung and Jungkook had been yesterday when they were screaming at each other. And with each second it lingered in the stifling air, you felt like it was urging you to say something, urging you to break it and tell Jungkook all of the things you had been wanting to say.

And so, you did, did break it, but you didn’t say the things you had been wanting to say. You said the thing you knew was okay to say.

“Heejin is nice.”

You whispered it into the room, whispered it so quietly like you didn’t want to break the silence that had been begging to be broken. Your eyes stayed on the ground, stayed focused on anything that wasn’t Jungkook, and he did the same, didn’t look up either.

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed out and propped his arms on his knees, body leaning forward. “I guess she is.”

You nodded, barely registering his answer because you weren’t actually listening for it, not that you could have if you had wanted to because your heart was thumping in your ears, each beat as loud as a bomb going off right next to you. 

“H-how long have you two been dating?” you asked and you were honestly not sure why you were asking because simply thinking about Heejin and Jungkook together hurt you. Somehow you had been spared of their relationship details so far and you were more than thankful for that.

“Well, uh, a couple months,” Jungkook said with a cough. “Almost six now, I think.”

“And she hasn’t met the others yet?” you asked and peeked over to Jungkook. He only lowered his head even more and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, no, she hasn’t,” Jungkook mumbled.

“How come?” you continued in an attempt to lighten the whole situation, but somehow the air seemed to grow thicker with every word you exchanged. 

Jungkook took his time to answer, eyes scanning the floor like the words would appear on it if he stared long enough, like someone would whisper into his ear why Heejin hadn’t met his friends yet, like he would remember what his reasoning was.

“I- I don’t know,” Jungkook ended up sighing before curling up into himself, head lowering even more as if he was aiming to plant it to the floor.

“How’d you meet?” you asked.

“How does anybody meet anybody these days? Dating apps.”.

“What-”

“Did you date?”

The question was simple, each word easy to understand, but you had difficulties figuring out what he was asking you.

“When you were there, I mean. Did you date?”

You stammered for an answer, words running away from you like you were children playing Tag on a sunny day with your friends, and you were losing, miserably. The air was knocked out of your lungs and it took you seemingly an eternity to finally get it together and cough out some words, words that put together resembled an answer.

“I- yeah, I, uh, did.” You grimaced at yourself, head lowering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze the same way he had avoided yours before.

“So, you had, like, a serious-”

“No,” you cut in a little too fast. “I mean I dated, but nothing was really serious. I never had anything like a proper- you know.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lip curled up the tiniest bit at your answer.

“How come?”

You sighed and gripped your tote bag next to you, wondering now where the fuck Taehyung was because hadn’t he said he would hurry? 

“It just never felt quite right, I guess.” You shrugged and shifted from left to right, fingers tightening around your tote bag. “They were all funny and kind, but- I guess you could say that something was missing. Like, I don’t know, the spark or whatever.” Another shrug. “But also not like I had time to date. Was busy with my studies anyway.”

Jungkook hummed and for a moment, you both fell silent again. You were about to pull out your phone and mumble something about checking where Taehyung was to change the subject to something lighter, easier, when he cut in.

“Anyone significant though?” Your eyes shot to him and you raised your brows at him. His face was neutral, but there was definite curiosity swimming in his pupils. “Like, memorable? Anyone that stuck around a little longer? Or, you know, you liked-”

“No,” you said with a vigorous shake of your head. “No one that was in any way memorable or significant. Most just- they just kind of blur together.”

Jungkook looked at you for another second, words sinking in with him before he nodded and hummed. Both of you lowered your gazes again and fell into the all too familiar silence, tension creeping up on you.

But before you could be forced to break the silence once again and word vomit all over yourself, there was a rumbling and a frantic turning of keys. A second later, the front door flew open. Hectic and clumsy steps followed and soon enough, your eyes landed on a frazzled and panting Taehyung.

He stopped in the middle of the room, right in front of Jungkook and you. His chest heaved and judging from the sweat running down his temple, he had run a good amount.

Jungkook looked away when Taehyung stumbled into the living room, and instantly, you could feel a change in the air. The tension sat on your chest, suffocating you as it seeped into every corner of the room.

“My room,” Taehyung panted before pointing at you and into the hallway, not sparing Jungkook a single glance as he turned on his heel. You didn’t follow his words and only tightened your grip around your tote bag.

“I, uh,” you cleared your throat and Taehyung stopped, turning around to look at you with raised brows, confused, “I’d rather stay, uh, here.”

“What?” Taehyung asked and irritation started to mix with his confusion. “Why?”

His eyes dug into yours like he was trying to tell you just how little he wanted to stay here, and you sighed, tucking a strand behind your ear. Your tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you could feel your heart quicken in your chest, quicken impossibly.

“I-” you lowered your head before finally mustering up the courage to say it. “I know I said I came here to say sorry for yesterday, but I’m also here to say that I’d like to stop—I guess you could call it fake dating, right?—well, anyway, I’m here to tell you I’d like to stop fake dating you,” you thought to yourself, unsure how to call what Taehyung and you had been doing, “or whatever.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you started, voice quiet and calm, and you couldn’t look at Taehyung or Jungkook as you explained yourself because, fuck, all of this was so ridiculous and dumb, “I don’t like it. I don’t like lying. It’s stupid.”

You shrugged and when you looked up to Taehyung, he had his brows raised at you and his hands on his hips, obviously not believing you at all.

“You’re literally ly-”

“Also,” you cut in, not wanting to give Taehyung a chance to disagree with you and because you had to get everything out right now before the courage left you and you were staring at the floor once again. “Also, it’s just not fair to Heejin. She doesn’t deserve to be lied to you. She’s a good person and if she finds out that we’ve been lying to her, she- I don’t know, might break up with, uh, you know.”

Your eyes flickered to Jungkook. He was already looking at you, and maybe it was because your heart was beating in your ears, tumbling way too loud in your chest or maybe because you couldn’t properly look at him for more than a second, but you couldn’t read his expression. There was something in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite figure out what exactly.

“And we don’t want that, right?” 

Your voice wavered as you said the words and you hoped it would go unnoticed, hoped that neither Taehyung nor Jungkook listened closely enough to hear the waver. You folded your arms over your stomach, focusing back on Taehyung. He eyed you, continued to do so and you had to try your hardest not to shift and look away. 

“Fine,” Taehyung sighed, gaze tearing away to let it wander before his eyes returned to you like he had come to accept your decision just now. “What do you suggest?”

“I- uh,” you flashed Taehyung a nervous smile and wrung your hands together, “I don’t know. I- I figured we’d come up with something,” a short pause, “together.”

When you looked over to Jungkook again, he was staring at the floor before meeting your gaze, obviously not thinking he was going to be included in this. You wanted to muster up something that resembled a smile, but looking at him was something you couldn’t do, so, your eyes flickered to Taehyung. No smile for Jungkook.

“Together,” you repeated and Taehyung sighed, head lowering for a few seconds as he squeezed his eyes shut. When he looked up again, there was a deep line etched onto his features.

“Fine,” Taehyung breathed out before wandering into the room again and sitting down right opposite of Jungkook. 

All three of you occupied one side of the U shaped couch, Jungkook the left, Taehyung the right and you the middle.

“Okay, uh,” you started when the silence continued on too long, leaning forward to grab Taehyung's attention. “I- I’d say we have to break up amicably, right?”

You looked over to Taehyung for some kind of reaction, but his eyes were fixed on Jungkook and his eyes were fixed on Taehyung as well. Your head started to throb and you knew it was a matter of time until it split apart. Unable to take it any longer, you clapped your hands together and cut through some of the lingering tension.

“I thought we were gonna talk,” you said, voice quiet because you were too scared to speak up too loudly. You looked at Taehyung only because looking at Taehyung was easy and looking at Jungkook was not. “Let’s talk then, please.”

Taehyung and Jungkook locked eyes once more, the corners of their lips turned down, but both came to a mutual conclusion.

“Okay,” Jungkook sighed and shifted in his seat. 

“Yeah, fine,” Taehyung mumbled quietly, arms unfolding to rest on his knees. 

There was a moment of silence as he thought.

“You said break up amicably, right?” Taehyung pointed at you and you nodded. “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

“What does it matter if you two break up amicably or not?” Jungkook questioned with a furrow of his brow and Taehyung sighed.

“It matters because if Y/N and I don’t break up amicably, we can’t hang out in the future. So, if Heejin were to see us, it’d be weird,” Taehyung explained and the irritation was dripping from his words.

“You guys wanna hang out in the future?” Jungkook asked and Taehyung contorted his face at him.

“Yeah, of course, dude. Why the fuck wouldn’t we? We’re friends,” he said and shook his head at Jungkook, scoffing slightly.

“Don’t-”

“Okay, great. Break up amicably. How though?” you cut in before things could escalate any further, turning to Taehyung for some answers, but he simply shrugged.

“How about,” Jungkook started and ran a hand through his hair, “How about you two start acting annoyed with each other the next time we meet up? Like, start dropping hints and then, I’ll make some comment about how you two have problems and then, when we see each other again, you two are broken up.”

“Yeah, I doubt that Heejin would like to meet up again after yesterday,” Taehyung said and you hummed in agreement.

“Are you sure this is about Heejin not wanting to meet up or just you?” Jungkook bit back and you sighed inwardly, regretting not taking Yoongi or Yerim with you as support.

“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” Taehyung sneered with a scoff and a breathy chuckle, and you were certain your skull was going to break into pieces.

“What am I talking about? How about the fact that you didn’t come home yesterday?” Jungkook asked and pointed at Taehyung, the knit deepening between his brows.

“What does that-”

“Tae, please,” you interrupted and closed your eyes, hating every second of this. “Just don’t, please.”

You peeled your eyelids open and locked eyes with him, shaking your head from left to right as you were on the verge of giving this up and going home. Taehyung’s gaze softened when he saw how tired you were, irritation washing out of him in an instant.

“Yeah, no, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hand reaching for yours and you took it, squeezing it to thank him silently. You two shared a look and both of you were too occupied to notice Jungkook lowering his head and scoffing silently to himself, teeth sinking far too deep into his lip, so much so it should hurt.

“Okay, so, how-” you started, letting go of Taehyung��s hand to concentrate on the conversation again. “How did you imagine us meeting up again? Because I also don’t think that Heejin would want to meet up after yesterday.”

You glanced into Jungkook’s direction, but he kept his head low, acting like he was thinking when in reality, he was trying not to burst. 

“Maybe we could convince Yeri or Yoongs to host a game night or whatever,” Taehyung offered as a solution and you thought about his words for a moment before nodding, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, that sounds like something,” you said and turned to Jungkook slightly, glancing into his general direction to gauge his reaction.

“But,” Jungkook started, head raising a little as he looked at Taehyung with his brows slightly knitted together, “that’d mean Heejin would meet-”

Jungkook didn’t finish the sentence, deciding to swallow the rest of it instead and Taehyung and you exchanged a glance, giving him a few seconds to make up his mind again as to what he wanted to say.

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” Jungkook sighed at the end, nodding, and Taehyung and you locked eyes once more.

“Great. I can talk to them about it,” you said with somewhat of a smile on your lips and Taehyung hummed in agreement and Jungkook just rubbed the back of his neck.

Stifling silence fell over all three of you, but then you remembered why you had come here in the first place. You dug through your tote bag and pulled out one tupperware box before pulling out another one. You placed them both on the coffee table and pushed them into their direction.

Taehyung and Jungkook looked up when they heard the sliding of the tupperware boxes and almost simultaneously, they furrowed their brows together and glanced at you. You didn’t meet either’s gazes, deciding to fiddle with the strap of your tote bag instead. 

“Breakfast,” you said with a shrug and it took Taehyung grabbing his box and removing the top for Jungkook to finally stop staring at you and grab his box.

“You made me food too?” Jungkook asked and stared at the box in front of him before glancing back up to you. You lowered your head even more, cheeks growing hot underneath his eyes.

“Well, no, not really,” you started, clearing your throat. “I mean I didn’t know you lived with Tae, but since he always used to eat so much I figured one box wasn’t enough and so, I made two, but I’m pretty sure two boxes were too much anyway. So, this works out perfectly actually. But it’s just a bunch of stuff I found in my fridge and threw together. Really nothing special.”

You shrugged more and Taehyung mumbled something underneath his breath, but you couldn’t catch it. Without a fork or a chopstick or any cutlery, he dug in, biting off a piece of the fried egg.

“Fuck, it’s good,” Taehyung said with a slight scoff like it was infuriating to him that your cooking (Could it be considered cooking though because you just made some bacon and fried egg and cut up some vegetables?) didn’t completely suck.

“Thanks,” Taehyung mumbled in between bites, enjoying the food so much that he couldn’t even raise his head to look at you.

You nodded and glanced at Jungkook, who had snapped out of whatever he had previously been and finally removed the top of the box, marvelling at the food in front of him. And just like Taehyung, he dug in, fingers first. You watched Jungkook try the bacon and shake his head as he chewed, a smile overtaking his lips more and more as he continued eating.

Jungkook looked up, eyes locking with yours and with the softest smile, he nodded at you.

“Thank you.”

And you nodded right back at him with your heart tumbling far too loudly in your chest.

“You’re welcome.”

All three of you fell silent and for a while, Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s constant chewing was the only thing that rang in your ears at all.

“Uh, Tae, could you give me-” Jungkook pointed at the box of tissues in front of Taehyung, out of his reach. He looked up at Jungkook’s voice, blinking for a few seconds because this had been the first time Jungkook had talked to him in a civil manner. Taehyung nodded and shoved the little piece of carrot into his mouth.

“Yeah, no, sure thing,” he mumbled before taking a tissue and leaning over the table to give it to Jungkook. He took it, wiping his fingers and mouth before locking eyes with Taehyung once more.

“Thanks,” Jungkook mumbled quietly and Taehyung smiled to himself a little before waving it off.

“Sure thing,” Taehyung mumbled equally quiet and you had to stop the grin from growing on your lips. 

For a few more seconds, you sat there as Taehyung and Jungkook practically devoured the food you had made (neither bothered to go to the kitchen and get some cutlery though) before you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned to Taehyung.

“Why were you so late?” you asked and he looked up, a piece of fried egg hanging from the corner of his mouth. “And where were you that it took you half an hour to get back?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes at you and swiped across his mouth with the back of his hand, swallowing heavily. “I crashed at Yoongi’s, and I swear the traffic was just out of the world this morning. I hit more red lights-”

“What? Was there a fire? Or did someone drop a bunch of mirrors on the road?”

Jungkook choked next to you and you watched him cough and pat his chest, trying desperately not to suffocate. Taehyung and you exchanged glances, and even though it had been incredibly awkward and tense just mere minutes ago, things were slowly changing.

When he finally managed to swallow his food, Jungkook locked eyes with you and you tried to hide it, but a smile grew onto your lips, eliciting his cheeks to grow hot and red.

“You guys never believed me,” Jungkook mumbled, a dramatic pout forming on his lips, and when you looked at Taehyung again, both of you burst out into laughter.

“Can you blame us though? Fires? Broken mirrors?” Taehyung laughed, forgetting everything that had happened between Jungkook and him.

“Why would I lie? There’s literally no reason for me to-”

“Because you forgot time and are now running late and trying to shift blame because you don’t want to get shit on for being late, again,” you offered as an explanation, falling into the same old teasing you all used to do when you were all still in high school and your biggest worries were if your mother or Jungkook was going to drive you home today and if Jungkook was going to stay at your place or if you were going to stay at his.

“I would never do that,” Jungkook argued and you rolled your eyes, exchanging a knowing glance with Taehyung. “Hey! No, don’t look at each other like that. I can see you guys.”

“Never thought or said you were blind,” Taehyung grinned and plopped a small tomato into his mouth. You hummed in agreement, grin growing bigger and brighter when you saw Jungkook scoff and shake his head at Taehyung and you.

“It’s always been you two against me,” Jungkook complained and Taehyung and you rolled your eyes simultaneously, scoffing.

“Please, if anything it was always you two,” Taehyung pointed at Jungkook and you with a piece of carrot before pointing at himself, “against me.”

“That is not true-”

“It was,” you said and locked eyes with Jungkook, nodding. “We’ve gotta admit it. We bullied Tae more than Tae and I bullied you.”

“So, you did bully me then,” Jungkook said and you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance.

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing,” Taehyung started and pointed at you, waving the piece of carrot around like it wasn’t food. “Y/N never got bullied. Only we did.”

“Oh my God, we never did bully you,” Jungkook said with a dramatic turn of his head and you scoffed, shaking your head because, oh, you did get bullied.

“Yoongs bullied me,” you corrected with a raise of your finger. “And if anyone didn’t get bullied, it was Yeri.”

“No, Yoongs bullied Yeri,” Taehyung said with his brows furrowed together and dismissed your words with a wave of his hand, after having finally eaten the piece of carrot. “You know who actually didn’t get bullied?”

“Yoongs,” Jungkook replied and all of you locked eyes, the realisation dawning on you. There was a beat of silence before you all started talking again, simultaneously.

“That bitch really bullied all of us relentlessly, but never got some of it back.”

“How did we not notice earlier?”

“Looks like we’ve got some bullying to do, huh?”

Another beat of silence followed before you locked eyes once more and all started laughing, pearls of laughter spilling from your lips, loud and beautiful.

And all of the tension and stiffness was gone, gone as you laughed your hearts out. Everything that had happened between you three was forgotten for a moment, the grudges were at the back of your minds, locked away for now, and you took it, took whatever the universe gave you that resembled normalcy. Deep down, you knew things were going to be awkward and tense once you all saw each other again, but for now, it was different, was like it used to be. 

Everything was great.

“I thought you guys would never come,” Yerim laughed, trying so hard to hide the nervosity, but you could hear it. She threw her arms around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him into a hug as he mumbled some excuse into her ear.

“Yeah, sorry.”

You watched Yerim and Heejin meet for the first time and you caught pieces of their conversation, listening to the usual spiel that consisted of ‘Oh, I’ve heard so much about you.’ and ‘It’s so nice to finally meet you’ before plopping a chip into your mouth, deeming whatever Yerim and Heejin were talking about as not interesting.

You had decided to busy yourself with the snacks in the kitchen when the bell had announced Jungkook’s and Heejin’s arrival, coming to the conclusion beforehand that if you looked busy, you didn’t have to get the door and do the obligatory greetings and hugs. With the way the door to the kitchen stood open, you could only see parts of the living room, but you had a perfect view of the front door. You, however, were somewhat hidden by one of Yerim’s plant. Essentially, you stood in the perfect spot to observe without being observed yourself.

“I thought you hated these chips.”

Your head whipped around at his voice and you realised only now he was already standing next to you, fingers grabbing the chip you had been about to eat. A gasp slipped past your lips as you watched him throw the chip into his mouth and lean against the table, shifting his whole weight onto the table.

“Yoongs!” you said, exasperated, but he didn’t care at all, grabbing a handful as he watched Yerim, Heejin and Jungkook exchange pleasantries at the front door.

“Didn’t you say the last time we hung out that these were too stale and bland in your opinion?” he asked, eyes never leaving the people at the front door, and you shrugged, plopping another stale and bland chip into your mouth.

“Opinions change.”

“That was last week.”

“Fine, so maybe they are too stale and bland in my opinion, but Yeri doesn’t have anything else,” you grumbled and threw another chip into your mouth, barely allowing yourself time to swallow and realise (again) just how horrible these chips were and why exactly you hated them.

“Shouldn’t you be saying hello right now?” you asked with a furrow of your brows and Yoongi scoffed.

“Why would I? I don’t live here. Yeri does,” Yoongi said with a scrunch of his nose. “Also, these are fucking horrible.” He looked at the chip in his hand with narrowed eyes. “God, they are stale and bland. I think these are those healthy chips or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you said, not really caring about the chips anymore, “but you haven’t met Heejin yet.” You nodded into her direction. “You should say hello.”

“Shouldn’t we all say hello to her regardless of if we’ve met her before or not?” Yoongi asked, plopping another chip into his mouth seconds after complaining about them. “So, shouldn’t you too?”

“I- Yeah, technically, I guess. But it’s different for you,” you argued.

Yoongi scoffed and shook his head, pausing a little as he focused on Yerim, Heejin and Jungkook again before snapping out of it. 

“I tell you what,” Yoongi started before shoving a handful of chips into his mouth, chewing to the end before continuing, “you go over there and say hello and then, I’ll do the same thing.”

You stared at Yoongi, but he didn’t meet your gaze, enjoying the view of Yerim, Heejin and Jungkook in the distance instead, and you huffed before mumbling underneath your breath for him to forget it. Both of you ate chips in silence for a few more seconds before he nudged your elbow with his hand, accidentally dropping a chip when he moved a little too quickly, but he didn’t mind or care at all.

“Tae’s going in,” Yoongi informed you and at his words, you looked up to see that, yes, Taehyung was, in fact, walking up to Yerim, Heejin and Jungkook, a strained smile on his lips.

“Yeah, probably because we aren’t,” you mumbled and Yoongi hummed in agreement. “Always there to save the day.”

“Look at Yeri’s panicked smile,” Yoongi said and pointed at her, and as much as you tried not to, you laughed a little, eliciting one from him.

“We’re bad people, Yoongs,” you snorted and he shook his head at you as he watched the horror unfold in front of him. 

“They haven’t made up yet, have they?” Yoongi asked and judging from the way Taehyung and Jungkook were hugging each other (or, well, actually not hugging each other because they were doing that awkward thing Jungkook and you had done the last time you had ‘hugged’ each other, and that was definitely not a hug.), it was obvious what the answer was.

“Obviously not,” you said and reached for your glass of water to wash down the salt. “Things are better though. Last time, they were ready to jump each other’s throats.”

Yoongi snorted and it was then that you remembered and looked over to him.

“Remember how I asked you for Tae’s address? Why didn’t you tell me he was crashing at your place then?”

A smirk formed on Yoongi’s lips and you wanted nothing more than to throw your glass of water into his face. The fact that he was still not looking at you only added to your irritation and frustration with him. 

“You told me not to tell Tae and Yeri, so I didn’t.”

“Yoongi!” you growled and jabbed him in his ribs, eliciting a breath from him. “You should have told me! Do you know how weird it was when he opened the door? You’re impossible sometimes.”

You scrunched up your brows and gritted your teeth, but Yoongi just cackled next to you, obviously enjoying your misery very much.

“You know what?” you asked and put down your glass of water with a little more force than necessary. “I take it back. We aren’t bad people. You are. You’re straight up a dick.”

“Oh, I never agreed with you,” Yoongi said and you frowned at his words, not getting what he was saying. “I know that I’m a bad person, but, trust me, you’re definitely not.”

Your frown deepened and you were about to ask him what he was talking about when Yoongi finally looked at you and stopped eating the chips, letting the few pieces in his hand fall back in the bowl. He dusted off his hand and straightened up to look at you properly.

“Look around yourself, Y/N,” he said and threw his hands into the air. “We’re at a fake game night party or whatever this thing is that you forced Yeri to throw, so you could act ‘annoyed’ with Taehyung because you’re fake dating him and you’re only fake dating him because that dumbass ex of yours, who is also somehow our dear friend, Jeon fucking Jungkook, forgot to tell his current girlfriend that you dated during high school.”

You tore your gaze away and bit on your tongue, trying desperately not to squirm underneath Yoongi’s gaze.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Yoongi continued and you lowered your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “This is literally the dumbest thing ever. You’re making sure Jungkook, who, again, I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, is your ex, keeps his current girlfriend because he, again, was a dumbass and forgot to tell her about you. And on top of that, he’s been acting like a complete fucking asshole to you.

“Obviously. you’re not a bad person. You’re a fucking saint for putting up with and doing all of this.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Don’t try to convince me otherwise, Y/N,” Yoongi cut in and shoved his face with chips again before regretting it immediately and scrunching up his face in disgust. You peeled your eyes open just in time to watch him drink all of your water, but this time you didn’t complain. You simply sighed and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I hurt him-”

“And?” Yoongi argued with a groan. “Stop blaming yourself for everything. We hate it if you do that. If Yeri wasn’t so freaking weak and had stuck to our agreement, this wouldn’t be happening right now.”

You shook your head and pressed your lips together. Yoongi didn’t understand, didn’t understand just what you had done and how much you had actually hurt Jungkook. In fact, none of your friends understood, understood why it wasn’t as easy as they seemed to think it was.

They hadn’t been there when you had told Jungkook you were going, hadn’t been there to witness him crumble apart in front of, hadn’t been there as his anger took over him and consumed him whole, hadn’t been there when Jungkook’s begs for this to be a joke turned into deafening screams and ultimately into bitter words.

“Out!” 

You flinched, flinched because Jungkook had never raised his voice withyou, had never looked at you like that. There was no warmth, no light, no love swimming in his eyes. All you could find was anger and pain, and you wished you could say you weren’t the reason for all of that.

His face contorted and hardened into something unreadable, something you had never seen before, and you wanted to soothe over every line, wanted to kiss them over and over again until they were gone. Even with the anger etched onto his face, Jungkook was painfully beautiful, heartbreakingly so.

“Please. Just let me explain, babe-”

“No!” Jungkook cut in and pointed at you, finger jabbing the air like it had wronged him and not you. Your heart rang in your ears and you were almost certain he could hear it too, hear it thumping in your chest. 

“Kook, please-”

“Do not call me ‘Kook’. I’m not fucking ‘Kook’ or ‘babe’ or even fucking ‘Jungkook’ to you. You’ve got no right to call me by my name anymore!”

A new wave of tears streamed down your face at his words. They pierced through you like bullets, hitting you in rapid succession and at the end, you were laying on the floor, on the brink of death.

“You’ve decided to- decided to leave me, no, us for your stupid adventure. You’ve fucking decided to break our promise! Remember our stupid fucking promise of forever?” Jungkook pressed through gritted teeth and took a step towards you, hands waving wildly around him. “You don’t get to say my name, don’t get to act like everything’s fucking fine and I’m your ‘Kook’ or ‘babe’ or whatever the fuck you call me after breaking it!”

You hiccuped and let your head hang as the realisation dawned on you that he was gone. He had slipped out of your reach and walked, no, ran away. He had put oceans and continents between you two, and there was no more asking him to come back anymore.

You knew then, he and you were done.

More curses slipped past Jungkook’s lips, but you couldn’t hear them, couldn’t hear the accusations he threw at you. For that, your heart was breaking and sobbing far too loudly in your chest.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, how long you stood there and cried your eyes out as he paced up and down his room, but by the time, you managed to lift your head, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands folded together with his gaze stuck to the floor.

And you weren’t sure how much time passed, how long you stared at him until he opened his mouth again.

“I really really love you,” Jungkook mumbled through gritted teeth and you knew he wished he didn’t love you anymore.

You wanted to grab him, cup his face and whisper into his ear over and over again just how sorry you were, whisper into his ear until words stopped making sense and the stars rained from the darkened sky.

“I really do,” Jungkook scoffed, but tears spilled from his eyes, involuntarily and far too many. Too proud to cry in front of you now, Jungkook covered his face with his hand and sank his teeth into his bottom lip, but even then, he couldn’t silence the sobs and sniffs. They banged on the walls of his throat and bursted through his lips.

And you hated it, hated seeing him like this, hated seeing his entire body shake and tremble, hated seeing his face contort in pain, hated seeing the tears collect at his chin and drip to the floor, hated seeing his lips quiver uncontrollably, hated seeing him desperately try to keep it together.

You hated seeing Jungkook cry.

But he was, and all because of you.

You were to blame, to blame for the state Jungkook was in right now. You had inflicted that pain on him, had broken and shattered his heart, had made him cry.

“Please, just let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to explain, Y/N,” he said, a sob erupting from his lips again, and you shook your head, trying so desperately to say something, but your tongue was tied into a messy knot. You wanted to tell him that there was so much you wanted to say, so much that needed to be explained, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, couldn’t bring yourself to form the words necessary.

Slowly, Jungkook looked up to you, hand falling into his lap, and when your eyes met his, your heart raptured in your chest. His features were twisted in pain and agony as the tears scared his beautiful face.

“You’re leaving.” Jungkook whispered it into the silence like you didn’t know. 

“You’re leaving me.”

You closed your eyes at his words, shaking your head like you were about to disagree, but you couldn’t, couldn’t even bring yourself to make a single sound. 

The anger in Jungkook’s voice had dissipated into the air and been replaced by disappointment and hurt. And if you had to say which one was worse, Jungkook screaming at you or Jungkook simply looking at you with tears streaming down his face, you would choose the latter every fucking day.

Because without the anger and the screams to numb you, to silence your thoughts and mind, it was obvious, glaringly obvious. 

You had broken Jungkook.

“I hope you’re happy,” Jungkook continued, voice cracking in the worst way possible, and a deaf man could have heard that he was lying, could have heard the bitterness swinging in his words.

“I hope you’re happy knowing you’ve hurt me.”

“You don’t get it, Yoongs,” you mumbled quietly to yourself before looking at your hands. “None of you do.”

You had always preferred game night over film night. You just always thought that it was so much more fun to play games than to sit in darkness and watch some film half of you didn’t watch anyway or had already watched. Your competitiveness and need to win certainly played into your preference of game night over film night. But right now, you would choose film night over game night any day, would never have another game night ever again if that meant you could switch to having a film night now instead.

You really had no idea what Yerim had been thinking when she had decided to draw lots to determine the teams. 

“So, we need a total of seven points to beat them, right? Both rounds?” Heejin asked you and you nodded, your heart racing more and more as you waited for the game to begin.

2 rounds of Taboo. 90 seconds to get through as many words as possible.

“You sure you don’t wanna be the one explaining? I’m sure you’re better at this than I am,” you said and Heejin shook her head at you.

“Trust me, I’m definitely worse than you,” she smiled. “If we wanna win, it’s best if Kook and you do the explaining.”

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Yerim asked you, her finger hovering above the start button, and you turned around to her before nodding. It was a complete lie, you weren’t ready, but you didn’t think you were ever going to be. 

You always got nervous right before you started playing a game, but this time, it was different, different because it mattered so much more if you won or not. Never had you wanted to win more, and the thought of possibly losing had your stomach churning. You couldn’t disappoint, disappoint him because you knew that he was just as competitive as you, if not more so.

“Go!”

You picked up the first card and scanned it.

Tattoos

Ink

Permanent

Skin

“Okay, uh,” you turned around and looked at Heejin and Jungkook, “they are like paintings or sketches.”

“Black and white paintings?” Heejin guessed and you shook your head, biting your lip as you thought of something else to say.

“Uh,” you tucked a strand behind your ear before looking at him, “ you always said you wanted them and they can be in any colour.”

“You always said you wanted them and they can be in any colour‘? What is she talking about?” Taehyung laughed at your poor attempt at describing the word ‘Tattoos’ and you started to panic even more.

“Stop guessing. You’re not on her team,” Yoongi said with a slap to his arm and Taehyung simply dismissed him with a wave of his hand, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Once you get them, they’re forever.”

“Jesus, Y/N, did you get worse at this?” Taehyung laughed and you could hear Yerim’s laugh mix with his. You couldn’t blame them though because you were really struggling to come up with a way to explain ‘Tattoos’.

“Why is Y/N describing and not Kook? Wasn’t he always better at this than her?” Yerim asked and you regretted not putting up more of a fight when Heejin had told Jungkook and you to do the explaining. 

You had always been better at guessing and Jungkook had always been the one better at explaining. You had your roles, but with Heejin on your team now and refusing to do the explaining, you had to step up.

“You got into this huge fight with your parents once because they didn’t like them- oh, you’ve got some now on your freaking hand!”

“Tattoos!” Jungkook exclaimed and you let out a squeal. A smile flashed across your lips before you nodded at him and picked up the next card, the previous card landing on the floor.

Valentine

 February 14

Red

Love 

“45 Seconds,” Yerim said and you turned to Heejin and Jungkook with wide eyes, quickly starting to explain.

“Okay, uh,” you said and tucked a strand behind your ear, brain trying to come up with a way to word this correctly. “It’s a holiday at the start of the year.”

“New Years?” Heejin said and you shook your head at her.

“Later.”

“What holiday is at the start of the year but not New Years?” Taehyung asked and once again, Yoongi slapped his arm, telling him not to guess.

“Easter?” Heejin said and you shook your head.

“30 Seconds,” Yerim interjected and you wanted to curse at her because this was really stressing you out.

“Fuck, uh,” you turned to Jungkook. “We always made fun of it because we thought it was just so commercialised.” You gestured wildly around yourself. “It’s for couples-”

“Oh, Valentine! February 14th-”

You cheered once more before picking up the next card, letting the other one fall to the floor once more.

Harry Potter

Film

Scar

Magic

“Uh, this is easy” you mumbled. “It’s a fictional character.”

“Sherlock Holmes? Iron Man?”

“No, let me finish first,” you shot back with urgency in your voice. “ He’s really famous-”

“Iron Man!”

“No, God, just let me finish!” you groaned and Jungkook sat back down a little more, lips pressing together to let you talk. Heejin smiled next to him and placed her hand on his knee, trying to calm him, but Jungkook had his eyes fixed on you, desperately trying to get that win.

“15 Seconds,” Yerim smiled, definitely enjoying the distress in your eyes far too much.

“Okay, uh, we can get this one,” you said, stumbling over your own words. 

“You can do, like, quizzes.”  You looked at Jungkook once more. “We did them too!” You gestured between him and you. “You got really pressed because you got Hufflepuff, but you wanted-”

“Oh, Harry Potter,” Jungkook said and snapped his fingers.

“Time’s up!” Yerim said and you dropped the card in your hand.

“Three points, right?” Heejin counted on her fingers and turned to Jungkook and you. 

You let out a long sigh, feeling the stress wash out of you a little because now, you got to do the part you were actually good at, guessing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded as he got up and stretched, preparing himself for the next 90 seconds. “So, four points.”

You walked past Jungkook, slumping into the seat he had just sat in. Your heart was still beating way too fast and the adrenaline was pumping through your veins like a bullet train.

“We can do this, right?” Jungkook asked and turned back around, standing in the middle of the room. When you realised he was looking at you, talking to you, you could feel the heat creep up your neck. “You know, like we used to?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, far too embarrassed to respond properly. He blinked at you before nodding and walking up to Yerim, who was shuffling the cards.

“‘Like we used to’?” Heejin asked and turned to you with a furrow of her brows. You cursed Jungkook and slowly nodded.

“Yeah, uh, he and I were kinda always a team when we played Taboo,” you said before cleaning your throat and avoiding Heejin’s gaze as much as you could.

“Dream team,” Taehyung interjected and you rolled your eyes at him, leaning towards Heejin a little too slap his shoulder.

“‘Dream team’?” Heejin asked, but before you could answer, Yerim, thankfully, interrupted.

“Next round!” she announced and turned to Jungkook, nodding at him when he did. “Go.”

Immediately, Jungkook picked up a card and you turned around again, putting all of your focus on him and winning.

“So, this is something I want but it’s not a thing or object. It’s, like, alive.”

“Dog?” you started and he quickly shook his head. 

“Cat?” Heejin tried and before Jungkook could shake his head, you interrupted.

“No, he wants a dog, not a cat,” you mumbled, brows furrowing together as you thought about Jungkook’s words, trying to figure out what he was talking about until you got it. “Oh, a family!”

“Yes!” Jungkook grinned and gestured for you to think further. “Right, but that’s not it. When you have a family, you have-” 

“Kids?” You quirked a brow at him and Jungkook nodded.

“Okay, right, another word for kids is-?”

“Children!”

“Yes!” Jungkook cheered and grinned at you before throwing the card away and grabbing a new one. He read it and nodded to himself.

“It’s once a year, but not a holiday.”

“Not a holiday?” Yoongi mumbled quietly to himself even though he had told Taehyung not to guess.

“Say more,” you told him and Jungkook sighed, wrecking his brain before pointing at you.

“It’s your favourite day of the year and- You get a bunch of presents and, oh! We threw you a surprise-”

“Surprise party?”

“Yeah, but why did we-”

“My birthday! Is it birthday?”

Jungkook beamed at you and you mirrored him, beaming right back. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but now, it was out of excitement. You could practically taste the win on the tip of your tongue. 

“Okay, uh, this is hard,” Jungkook sighed after picking up the next card. He frowned before looking up. “It’s something you can eat.”

“Food.”

“Yeah, but that’s only the second word,” he said and gestured for you to think further again. “Like, ice cream-”

“Ice cream food? Food ice cream? Ice food cream?” you blurted all out, screaming one word after another, and Jungkook frowned at you.

“‘Ice food cream’? Maybe you’re not that good at guessing,” Jungkook laughed with a shake of your head, and you rolled your eyes at him, mumbling underneath your breath that it had been a long time, but your words fell on deaf ears. “No, it’s not ice food cream. It’s something you shouldn’t eat much of.”

“Sugar?” you guessed, but Jungkook shook his head at you.

“45 seconds,” Yerim said and Jungkook and you looked at each other, eyes wide. The need to win sparkled in both of your eyes and quickly, panic rushed through you, replacing the excitement.

“Say more-”

“There isn’t more. You’ve just gotta think- food is the second word!”

“But what about ice cream? Why did you-”

“Ice cream is-”

“Cold?”

Jungkook groaned, “No, I don’t mean cold.”

His brows furrowed together as he wrecked his brain before he thought of something and pointed at you again. “Okay, uh, we used to go to this one place all the time! Remember our midnight dinners? And the category of food that they sell is what we’re looking for.”

“Oh! McDonalds!” You snapped your fingers. “Junk Food!”

When Jungkook nodded at you, you squealed, watching him turn around and pick up the next card.

“If they get this next point, they won, right?” Yoongi asked Taehyung, but you answered.

“Yeah, we beat you then, losers,” you grinned and Jungkook laughed at your words before he turned to the card in his hand, scanning it.

“They’re really good at this, aren’t they?” Heejin asked Taehyung and leaned into him to make sure neither Jungkook nor you could hear her. Not that you two would have anyway, far too focused on the game at hand to pay her any attention, completely forgetting that she was on your team too.

“Yeah, both are incredibly competitive, so they work well together. Like, they practically always know what the other is thinking,” Taehyung mumbled as he watched you shuffle in your seat, not noticing the way Heejin looked at him at all.

You raised your brows when you saw Jungkook freeze up upon reading the card. His jaw didn’t go slack nor did his eyes go wide, but you could see, could see right away that something was wrong.

“Uh? What’s wrong?” you started, but even then Jungkook didn’t look up, eyes fixed on the card in front of him. Slowly, the others seemed to notice too, heads turning to see a frozen Jungkook. 

“20 Seconds.”

You exchanged a glance with Taehyung, but he shrugged at you, and so, you looked at Yerim for some help as she stood right next to Jungkook. She squinted as she tried to read the card herself.

“Oh, shit,” she blurted out and pressed her hand on her mouth when she realised that she had spoken without meaning to. She looked at Jungkook, mouth opening as she struggled to decide to say something or not, but then he snapped out of it.

Jungkook glanced at Yerim’s phone in her hand and looked up to you, eyes locking with yours like before, but this time, it was different. You immediately felt that there was a shift and you had a feeling that it was bad.

“It’s, like, a place you could say.” Jungkook’s voice quivered the tiniest bit, but you noticed immediately. You raised your brows and leaned even more forward, as if you could coax the word out of Jungkook that way.

“Really big,” he continued and looked at you like you should know what he was talking about now. When you furrowed your brows at you, he sighed, “You were there for the past four years.”

“Oh.”

Your entire face dropped as the realisation dawned on you and you sat back. You felt Taehyung eyeing you with worry etched onto his face, about to say something, but Yoongi put his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Only Heejin was more lost than ever, but you paid no one any attention, far too shocked to say anything. 

All of the memories, all of the memories connected to America and all of the pain it had caused not only you but Jungkook when you had left to go there, hit you so hard you feared whiplash. 

“5.”

You tried to say something, tried to give the answer because you knew it and you really didn’t want to lose, but somehow you just couldn’t. Your voice was gone, had disappeared. The word didn't hurt you, but you knew it hurt him, and that was one thing you didn’t want to do ever again.

“4.”

Jungkook and you kept eye contact as Yerim counted the seconds and you watched his brows furrow together and his lips press together in a thin line. He was debating internally, trying to figure out what he wanted, if the win was worth it, worth the memories and pain.

“3.”

Your eyes were fixed on him and when you saw Jungkook sigh a little and nod at you, you knew right away what he was telling you.

“2.”

You nodded at him too.

“America-”

“1.”

And even though Jungkook had told you to say it, the guilt still bubbled up and formed icicles in your lungs, piercing tiny holes in them, and you could feel the blood slowly filter in, suffocating you.

Jungkook and you kept staring at each other, and you should look away because there was no reason for both of you to be still looking at each other, but you couldn’t. 

“Does it still count?” Heejin asked, breaking the silence, and looked at Yerim.

Yerim’s eyes were trained on Jungkook and you, and only when you two tore your gazes away and looked at her, did she speak up. 

“Yeah, it counts.”

Jungkook and you whipped your heads around, looking at each other with big eyes. For a second, both of you didn’t know how to react, but then, the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile. Your lips split apart into a big grin and squeals and cheers escaped you two. You jumped up and Jungkook ran towards you, hands held up for high-fives. You reciprocated it and both of you beamed at each other.

“We won!” 

Jungkook laughed at your words and nodded, eyes softening as he watched the joy spread on your face.

“Yeah, we did.”

His words were soft, incredibly soft. A whispered secret almost. 

“Yeah, we did,” Jungkook repeated with a nod and a smile. “We did.”

You looked at Jungkook and even though you should look away again, you couldn’t. You two were locked into each other’s eyes, locked into each other’s eyes like it was just Jungkook and you in this room, in this world, in this universe, like you were falling in love with one another all over again.

And for a moment, it truly felt like that, felt like it was just him and you in this room, in this world, in this universe.

But then, his gaze flickered to Heejin.

Your eyes grew wide at the same time and your smiles almost slipped off your faces before you both turned to Heejin and let out another round of cheers and squeals.

“We won, Heejin!” Jungkook said and you held up your hand for a high-five. She blinked at both of you and you thought she was going to ask you two what the fuck that just was, confront you on forgetting her for the second half of the game, but then a smile split apart on her face.

“Yeah, isn’t that great?” she smiled and gave you a high-five.

After another round of Taboo and a few rounds of Charades and Pictionary (which you all won), you were exhausted, definitely spread thin. The adrenaline got to you, but so did actively avoiding your friends’ stares and trying not to get too swept up in the games and forgetting about Heejin again. So, when no one paid attention to you, busy with cleaning up and preparing for the next game, Werewolf, you snuck away.

“Best part of Yeri’s tiny flat, isn’t it?”

You didn’t turn around at Yoongi’s voice.

“Truly is.”

Yerim had a tiny flat, but she had a balcony. It was tucked behind the kitchen and, you had almost not seen it when you had walked in and looked for some peace and quiet. Yerim’s fridge blocked the glass door a little because, after all, the flat was tiny and so was the kitchen. 

The railing of the small balcony was lined with flowers, flowers that Yerim had texted you far too much about, flowers that had gone from blooming to dying to almost blooming to what they are now, almost dying.

Yerim had sent you pictures of the view when she had first moved in, but standing on here yourself was different. Truth be told, the view wasn’t the best, wasn’t breathtaking, nothing compared to the view you had gotten to enjoy at the restaurant, but it was enough to ground you, calm you down and give you the sense of peace and quiet you had looked for.

“You okay?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Yoongi, offering him a smile as you nodded.

“Yeah,” you said.

“That’s nice,” he hummed before leaning against the railing with his arms, careful not to hurt the flowers. “You sure, though?”

Yoongi peered up at you and you thought about his words for a moment. You had truly thought that this would be worse, that it would be awkward and weird as hell, but you had to say it wasn’t. When Jungkook turned out to be your partner (You had Yerim to thank for that. How was drawing lots to determine the teams a good idea?), you had truly thought that things were only going to go down from there. To your surprise, they didn’t.

There had been some tension between Jungkook and you, but the moment you picked up the first card and desperately tried to explain ‘Tattoos’ to him, both of you completely forgot about it, and instead worked together to win.

So, with a smile, you mirrored Yoongi’s stance, resting your elbows on the railing like him and leaning forward before letting your cheek fall into your open palm and turning to him.

“Yes, I’m sure, Yoongs,” you said. “Thanks for asking.”

Yoongi blinked at you before chuckling quietly to himself and turning his head away, eyes watching the sun dip below the horizon.

“How are you though? You okay?” you asked and watched as Yoongi let out a long and heavy sigh, eyes staying on the horizon.

“I hate this. So, wouldn’t say I’m okay.”

“You do? Sure you’re not hating this because you’re losing constantly?” you teased.

“Yes, Y/N, I do and, yes, I’m sure it’s not because I’m constantly losing. I’m not Kook or you. I don’t need to win. I don’t care that much,” Yoongi said with a roll of his eyes and another sigh. “You realise how dumb all of this is, right?”

You looked at Yoongi, raising your brows at him.

“We’re only doing this so you can act annoyed with Tae and then you two can break up or whatever, right?” he asked you and you nodded. “And that’s what’s dumb about this.”

You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing as you tried to figure out what exactly he thought was dumb about your plan.

Yoongi sighed once more. “You realise you don’t owe Heejil, or whatever her name is, an explanation, right? Fucking just text her that you’re broken up. Or, you know, better yet, don’t tell her because, again, you don’t owe her anything. She isn’t a friend of ours. She’s just the girl your ex and our dumbass friend is dating.” 

The annoyance was dripping from his voice as you continued staring at him. “Or, like, make up some story and the next time she sees you, just tell her that. You think she’s really gonna question that? She doesn’t know when you or Tae are lying.”

You blinked at Yoongi because how had none of you thought of that before? He was right. You didn’t owe Heejin any sort of explanation, but here you were, meeting up to put on a whole show (that you didn’t even put on) to give her some sort of explanation.

Yoongi seemed to be able to hear his words click in your mind because he scoffed at you. “You guys are fucking dumbasses.”

Now, you scoffed too, scoffed at yourself because, once again, Yoongi was right. You were dumbasses and you couldn’t believe neither Taehyung nor Jungkook nor you thought of this.

“Shit.”

Yoongi chuckled and shook his head at you, the corners of his lips turned downwards.

“Yeah, shit.”

You pressed your lips together as you let Yoongi’s words fully sink in with you, dawn on you and float away.

“Hey, guys.”

Yoongi and you turned around at Yerim’s voice, straightening up in an instant. You watched her slide the glass door open, a bowl of chips pressed to her chest as she stepped out.

“What are you two doing out here?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Oh, we-”

“Hiding,” Yoongi stated like it wouldn’t get you two in trouble and you whipped your head around to him, hand hitting his arm as you fixed him with a glare.

“Yoongs,” you growled, but he just laughed a little and rolled his eyes at you.

“Hiding?” Yerim questioned with a raise of her brows and tapped her foot like a mother about to scold her children.

“Yeah, hiding,” Yoongi continued and gripped the railing behind him, leaning against it. “We didn’t want to subject ourselves to that bullshit out there any longer. It’s really weird out there.”

“Yoongs, don’t say that. Yeri put effort into today. It’s not that weird-”

“Nope, Yoongs is right,” Yerim sighed and uncrossed her arms, tension washing out of her in an instant. She took a handful of chips and shoved them into her mouth, and as she chewed, a pout formed on her lips. “It’s weird as fuck outside. I don’t know what we’re doing really. Like, we’re playing games and everything and I guess it’s fun or whatever, but something’s just kinda off.”

Yerim shook her head and Yoongi grabbed a couple of chips as he chuckled at her words.

“Told you,” he said and you shoved him away when he grinned into your face, not appreciating the smugness. 

“I mean,” Yerim started again before eating another handful of the chips, “you’re right. Heejin’s nice, but I honestly think she makes things weird-”

“You think it’s Heejin?” Yoongi laughed with a shake of his head before pointing at you. “It’s Y/N and Kook. They’re the ones making it weird.”

“Excuse you? How am I making it weird?” you asked with big eyes, swatting Yoongi’s hand away,

“Please,” Yoongi scoffed with a raise of his brow. “How are you not making it weird? Kook and you are totally in your own world. It’s like you two are dating again, and we’re all, like, six wheeling.”

You scoffed and stared at Yoongi with your jaw open. Your hands balled up into fists at your side and you shook your head at him.

“Bullshit,” you said. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Yoongi said, enjoying the way you got all worked up. And before you could stop him, he had placed his hand against your forehead. “Woah, your face’s literally heating up.”

You shoved his hand away, lips pressing together into a line as you shook your head at him and waved him off.

“Bullshit,” you pressed through gritted teeth. “It’s just the sun. It’s summer. It’s hot.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi scoffed at your reasoning, and you were about to curse at him when you realised that you getting worked up was exactly what he wanted.

You turned to Yerim for backup, but she simply stared into her bowl of chips and shoved her face with it, actively avoiding your gaze. A scoff slipped past your lips and you mumbled curses aimed at Yoongi underneath your breath, deliberately ignoring the fact that it was definitely not hot enough today for your face to warm up like that.

Yoongi was ridiculous, definitely ridiculous. Jungkook and you just get carried away when you play games. You were competitive, nothing more. 

Your heart definitely only beat so hard and fast in your chest because the adrenaline was pumping through your veins, and you were only so incredibly happy about winning a stupid game of Taboo because it had been a long time since you had played against your friends, making the wins even sweeter.

It was nothing, nothing like Yoongi had said.

Jungkook and you were acting nothing like you two used to when you dated.

“Uh.”

All three of you looked up at the interruption, and your breath hitched in your throat when you saw him. He stood there, gripping the handle of the glass door as he awkwardly shifted from one foot to another. A tiny smile pulled on the corners of his lips while he looked between Yerim and Yoongi, but not you.

“Hey, Kook,” Yerim said and did this terribly awkward dance with Jungkook as she tried to step away and make some space for him, but there was none left, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little. The fact that you were upset just seconds ago was completely forgotten.

“Sorry,” you mumbled between laughs when Yerim turned around to glare at you, and you had to bite your lip to hide the grin that tugged on the corners of your lips. 

Yoongi eyed you with narrowed eyes before he shook his head and sighed. He kicked himself off the railing, and his hand landed on Yerim’s shoulder, stopping her from continuing this terrible dance with Jungkook and drawing her attention to him.

“Yeri, didn’t you want to show me this one thing that you got recently?” 

“What?” Yerim furrowed her brows at him and it took Yoongi raising his brow at her for her to get it. An uneasy and tense smile stretched across her lips before she nodded her head, far too vigorously. 

“Ah, yes, right. That, uh, thing. I- I remember. Let’s check it out, yeah?” Yerim laughed, and you frowned at her words, not believing her even for a second.

Your gaze drilled into Yoongi to ask him what the hell he was thinking he was doing, but he was avoiding your gaze expertly. And when you looked over to Yerim, she had essentially buried her face into the bowl of chips, and you wanted to throw it over your shoulder and demand her to look at you. 

Without really meaning to, your gaze travelled to Jungkook. When you looked at him, his eyes were already on you. His expression was unreadable and you didn’t know what he was thinking, but you knew that it was a bad idea for Yerim and Yoongi to leave you alone with him, knew that you didn’t want them to walk away. Because what were Jungkook and you? Back to being friends? Was it okay to laugh and tease each other now? Or was Jungkook still mad at you?

But before you could say something, Yerim and Yoongi had walked away, had left you standing alone on the balcony with Jungkook right in front of you.

He didn’t step out, didn’t join you on the balcony, and instead chose to stand at the glass door with his hand still gripping the handle. It was like he was ready to slam the door shut and walk away if things started to get a little too much for him, if this conversation didn’t turn out the way he wanted it to.

And you gnawed on your lip as he stared at you, stared at you like he had done before when you two had won your first round of Taboo. Just before the silence got too unbearable to handle and the tension too thick for you to breathe in, Jungkook opened his mouth.

“I missed you.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, stopped in your chest like maybe if it stopped, time would stop and you would get to enjoy the moment a little longer. You had no idea how long you simply blinked at Jungkook, but by the time you finally managed to get your thoughts together and properly look at him, he was shifting from one foot to another with his knuckles white around the grip of the glass door and his eyes dancing around, looking at everything except you.

“What?”

When Jungkook spoke up again, there was the slightest quiver in his voice. The slightest quiver that told you just how nervous and uncertain he was, how much he feared you laughing into his face.

“I meant it when I said it. I missed you.”

It didn’t sound like a joke, didn’t sound like he was messing with you at all, but it still took your brain seemingly forever to comprehend his words, to realise that he was completely and utterly serious.

“You did?” you asked in a whisper and Jungkook’s gaze found the floor, a breathy chuckle escaping him before he nodded.

“Yeah, I did.”

You blinked at him before your lips curled up into the softest smile.

“I did too.”

Jungkook raised his head and looked at you, and you watched the corners of his lips curl up into the most beautiful and dazzling smile. This time when he smiled at you, it was nothing like the smile he had given you when you had sat in his living room or when you had both realised you had won. No, this smile was different. It was the smile you had dreamt of every night, was the smile you had remembered every morning, was the smile you had longed to see on his lips again ever since you had first seen it.

It was the smile Jungkook showed you when he had whispered the three words for the first time, 

“I love you.”

And so, your heart surged in your chest, rose above and beyond, reached the sky and the stars, touched the sun and moon, and when she fell back down, she didn’t land in your hands. No, she landed in his hands.

“I missed having you around, you know,” Jungkook started, voice still quivering as he spoke. “I missed being able to call you up or text you and talk about everything and anything until we both just fell asleep. I missed showing up at your doorstep and going out for our midnight dinners with you. I missed laughing at other couples for stressing over Valentine before going out ourselves and being one of those stupid cheesy couples we made fun of.

“I missed having my best friend around.”

Jungkook stepped out on the balcony and closed the glass door behind him, hands at his side. There was a heavy sigh, and instantly, you knew. Slowly, his gaze met yours and he stared into your eyes with that look, that look that broke you.

“Why did you have to leave me?”

You sank your teeth into your lip and wrung your hands together, chest rising and falling far too quickly as you ran out of breath simply thinking of the answer. There was so much weighing on you, so many things you wanted to say, but couldn’t say, couldn’t because you couldn’t handle it, not even years later.

“You know why,” you breathed out, eyes searching the floor for words, for words that would escape you.

“Please, tell me again,” Jungkook asked and you wanted to ask him why he wanted to know, why he so desperately wanted to bring it all up again when he and you had done such a good job tiptoeing around it before.

“I-” You shook your head at yourself and you thought that maybe Jungkook would interrupt you and tell you he had changed his mind and didn’t want to hear it again if you paused, but his silence demanded for an answer. 

So, you gave him one, one that was worded badly and didn’t even begin to explain why you left, but it was an answer, the most you could do right now.

“I- it was my dream,” you managed to croak out and you expected a scoff, but Jungkook simply looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “It was my dream to study in America. So, I did it. I- I fulfilled my dream.”

The quietest sigh escaped Jungkook and even though you could barely hear it, you felt your heart tumble in his hands at the sound of, felt her start to slip through his fingers.

“Have I ever told you what my dream was?”

You looked up at his question  and shook your head, unable to make a single sound, not to mention say something.

Jungkook smiled to himself before he wandered over to you, feet stopping right where Yoongi had stood, next to you. And once again, you noticed the gap, the gap between him and you, the gap that seemed to never really close.

“I’ve had it since the start of high school, but unlike you, I didn’t fulfill it,” Jungkook started, eyes gazing into the sky. “I still want it and I do think I’m gonna fulfill it one day, but I don’t think I’m gonna do it the way I thought I would.”

Jungkook shook his head and you were really not sure how to process his words, or what he was trying to tell you. 

“It’s stupid and childish, I guess, but I really thought I would fulfill it, fulfill it the way I had dreamt of.” Jungkook laughed to himself before he fell quiet again.

Slowly, he turned to you, eyes glazing over as he looked at you, looked at you with his incredibly beautiful eyes. You could see the warmth, the light, the love in them, but there seemed to be something else swimming in his pupils, and you hated it when you realised what it was. 

Sadness.

You bit on your tongue as you watched the wind blow through Jungkook’s fluffy hair and mess it all up, and even then, Jungkook was still breathtakingly gorgeous. And with the sun going down behind you, the most beautiful and heartbreaking halo was cast upon him, surrounding him, hugging him.

“You were my dream, Y/N.”

Your heart didn’t fall to the ground and shatter into pieces because she tumbled too much in Jungkook’s hands. She fell to the ground and shattered into pieces because Jungkook didn’t hold on tight enough, because he couldn’t hold on tight enough.

“You and me, forever. Together. A house, a kid or two, maybe a dog. Really, anything you wanted. That was my dream,” Jungkook whispered, words slipping off his tongue quietly and slowly, like it was a secret, a secret meant to be only shared between him and you.

The corners of Jungkook’s lips curled up into the saddest smile you had ever seen when he continued, “I thought we were going to be together and grow old. I truly thought one day I would get the pleasure and honour of watching you walk down the aisle.”

Jungkook raised his hand and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to cup your face, seemed like he was going to stroke your cheek, but then, he hesitated. It was like he remembered, remembered then that you were not like that anymore, were not dating anymore.

And so, Jungkook shook his head at himself and curled his hand into a tight fist, knuckles turning a painful white before he let his hand drop and swing by his side. It was like if he didn’t curl his hand into a tight enough fist, he would lose and cup your face, stroke your cheek anyway.

“I really thought you were my dream.”

There was no malice in Jungkook’s voice as he spoke. He wasn’t trying to make you feel bad or trying to hurt you. He was simply trying to be truthful, but the truth was ugly and terrible and neither of you liked it very much. But at least, the truth didn’t hurt Jungkook, it only hurt you, only stabbed you in the chest and asked you where your goddamn heart was, only cursed at you for leaving Jungkook, the one boy who had loved you more than anything else in this world.

“Do you regret it?”

You hated that question, hated it so much because, fuck, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you regretted it, if you regretted leaving Jungkook. You regretted that he and you broke up, regretted the way you two broke up, but did that mean you automatically regretted going to America? Did that mean that going to America was the wrong choice? 

And even though you asked yourself these questions, you didn’t want the answers, didn’t want to know them because, fuck, you were afraid of them, afraid to realise that you regretted both and you had fucked up your chance of true and lasting love with Jungkook and spent all of this time, all these years in a foreign country without your friends and family for nothing.

You lowered your head and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep your skull together as it threatened to split open.

In the silence, Jungkook’s steps were loud, ringing in your ears, deafening. And you contorted your face and bit on your lip when you heard Jungkook slide the glass door open, a heavy sigh slipping from his lips before he spoke up, mustering up the best smile he could,

“We’re still gonna bully Yoongs for bullying us, right?”

You chuckled because how could you not? Of course, Jungkook could still make you laugh. It was a sad chuckle, but it was a chuckle no one else could have ever elicited from you.

You lifted your head  and peered at Jungkook over your shoulder, peered at him even though it hurt you to. He was just too beautiful to not look at.

“Yeah, we’ll still bully Yoongs for bullying us.”

You almost didn’t see the way the corners of Jungkook’s lips curled up into something that resembled a smile, almost didn’t see it with the tears swimming in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Amazing.”

Jungkook nodded at you, fingers tapping the glass door before he turned around and walked away. And even though you shouldn’t, you watched him, watched him slip away more and more, watched him walk away from you.

You turned back around and only realised then that the sun had almost completely dipped below the horizon. The sky was painted an incredibly mellow and sorrowful orange, and even with your heart shattered on the floor and guilt leaving gaping holes in your chest, you had to smile.

And with that smile on your lips, the tears rolled down your cheeks, sparkling in the sunlight as you let them flow, flow because you didn’t see a reason to wipe them away. Sometimes it was good to just cry, let yourself feel.

“Tell me you’re not crying.”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but you heard them. You pressed your lips together at his words because, of course, he would also come out to talk to you. You really should have expected it, should have expected it because he was simply that great.

“Well, guess you gotta give me a second then,” you said and rubbed on your cheeks, quickly wiping away the tears you knew were going to have his blood boiling and anger unfurling in his stomach.

“Y/N,” Taehyung sighed as he stepped out on the balcony, glass door clicking shut behind you as his hand gripped your elbow and turned you around. 

“What did he say?” You shook your head, smiling at him as much as possible, but your smile did nothing to soothe the deep line between Taehyung’s brow, did nothing to loosen the grip he had around your elbow.

“Tell me. I don’t care if he’s my friend, he’s-”

“No, stop,” you interrupted with a shake of your head and placed your hands on his shoulder, lips splitting into a grin because truly, Taehyung was the greatest, the greatest friend you could have ever wished or asked for. “It’s nothing. He didn’t say anything.”

You knew with the way Taehyung was eyeing you that he didn’t believe you, didn’t believe you for a single second, but you also knew that you could spend hours trying to convince him otherwise and he still wouldn’t believe you.

“You sure you don’t need me to beat him up a little?”

You laughed. “You think you can beat him up?”

Taehyung scoffed at your words and tried his hardest to look offended, but even he had to smile a little. 

“I��d try for you,” he said and you laughed again, shaking your head from left to right. The thought of a beaten up Taehyung popping right into your head.

“Let’s be honest here, he would just beat you up. No offence.”

Now, Taehyung laughed as well, laughed because he knew you were right. And for a moment, both of you only smiled at each other. For a moment, things seemed great and like he wouldn’t bring it up again that you had just been crying.

But just like a wise man once had said, great things always have to come to an end. 

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.”

Taehyung’s smile disappeared and your hands slid off his shoulder. You sighed, knowing exactly what he was talking about even though he didn’t specify. 

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths before humming and peeling your eyes open, head cocking to the side.

“Well, I also shouldn’t stay up so late and get more sleep, but here I am.” Your attempt of humour wasn’t well received at all. Taehyung didn’t even fake a smile at you, and you quickly let yours slip away, realising the weight of the situation and just how serious he was.

“Y/N, I mean it. You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Taehyung said, stressing every word of his last sentence like he wanted to drill it into your head, like he wanted for you to remember it, like he wanted to tattoo it into your skin so you would never forget. 

“It’s not that easy,” you said in a quiet whisper and Taehyung pursed his lips, hands burying into his pockets as he suppressed the sigh from slipping.

“But it’s not like you try either, right? Not like you try to free yourself from all of that guilt,” Taehyung argued and you almost groaned because, once again, he showed you that he had no idea.

“Taehyung, it’s really not that easy. I can’t just wake up and say ‘Well, it’s his fault that he got hurt-’”

“That’s not what I’m asking from you. Yes, you can’t wake up and say that, but you can wake up and say ‘It sucks that Jungkook got hurt by me leaving and was unable to properly forgive me for not telling him earlier, but aside from that I didn’t do anything wrong because I simply chased my dream.’. I’m not asking you to wake up and be all ‘Jungkook can suck a dick.’. That’d be ridiculous, but I’m asking you to stop blaming yourself.”

You tore your gaze away and crossed your arms in front of your chest as you suddenly realised how mesmerising Yerim’s flowers were.

“It’s trying, trying to feel less guilty. That’s what I’m asking from you. And I realise it’s a process, but for the love of God, can you start it?” Taehyung said and tried to get you to look at him again, but you whipped your head around. 

“None of you understand,” you whispered and Taehyung scoffed, hands running through his hair as he tried not to snap.

“But we do!” Taehyung groaned and you turned around to look at him, ready to shut him up and tell him how exactly he was wrong, but he continued, “You seriously think that Yoongs or Yeri or I weren’t hurt by the news of you leaving? You seriously think that we weren’t mad too? You seriously think it was easy for us to go to the airport and wish you well? No!”

Taehyung gestured wildly around himself, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, as he tried not to shake you and yell into your face to wake the fuck up.

“It wasn’t. It sucked because while, yes, none of us dated you, we still loved you,” Taehyung said, leaning forward to stress his words. “We were hanging out every day for four years, spending every minute together, and then suddenly, at the start of our last summer, you tell us you’re going to America?”

You swallowed heavily and bit on your tongue.

“It wasn’t easy and it fucking sucked, but we still wanted the best for you, still wanted you to go because we knew just how much you wanted to and how much you had worked for it. You deserved it, truly,” Taehyung said, voice growing soft as he calmed down a little. 

“It was why we did go to the airport with you and wished you well,” Taehyung spat out and for a moment, he stopped, paused and put his hands on his hips, eyes piercing through yours as you struggled to hold his gaze.

“Do you realise that you haven’t said his name?”

You blinked at Taehyung, unable to say anything as a lump lodged itself into your throat, growing bigger and bigger with every word that left him.

“I don’t think you’ve said ‘Jungkook’ or ‘Kook’ even once except for that time when we first saw Kook in the restaurant,” Taehyung said and you really thought he wouldn’t realise. “You feel so guilty you can’t even say his name. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

You uncrossed your arms and let them slip to your side, eyes darting across the floor as you tried to find your words, but you couldn’t.

“And what hurts and frustrates me the most aside from the fact that you will not recognise that your guilt is, in fact, ridiculous, is that Kook treats you like shit. And he’s so rude to you even though you go out of your way to fucking dice his cucumbers, even though you and I are fake dating for him, even though you organised this entire thing to break up with me so Heejin will never find out that all of this is a lie and you’re in actuality Kook’s ex.”

Taehyung was heaving at the end, chest rising and falling as the world spilled from his lips like an overflowing bucket. He levelled you with a gaze and a few seconds passed by before he spoke up again. But this time he wasn’t on the edge of yelling, this time his voice wasn’t dripping of urgency and frustration, this time he was calm.

“Look, I’m not saying that you did nothing wrong and that Kook has no right to be mad at you at all.” You pressed your lips together. “You did just leave, did just apply for that scholarship without telling us beforehand. That sucked, and you shouldn’t have done that. You should have at least told him.”

Taehyung ran a hand through his hair as he gazed off into the sky, eyes squinting when he looked right into the disappearing sun.

“But it doesn’t mean that it’s okay for him to act the way he does. You’ve both fucked up, but it’s been years.”

You leaned against the railing and let out a long sigh, eyes wandering to Taehyung. He offered you a smile and while you felt the corners of your lips quiver and your lungs ache, you smiled back at him. 

“You two obviously have a lot to work through,” Taehyung said and you threw your head back into your neck, gaze finding the sky.

“Where do I start?”

And without missing a beat, Taehyung answered,

“Start by forgiving yourself.”

When Taehyung came home that night after dropping you off, he found Jungkook in the kitchen, McDonalds bag sitting on the dining table.

“Got anything for me?” Taehyung asked as he made his way over to Jungkook, sitting down opposite of him and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Jungkook didn’t respond or look at Taehyung, simply putting down his burger on the wrapper that functioned as a makeshift plate before rummaging through the brown bag and tossing a cheeseburger at Taehyung.

“You took Heejin home?” Taehyung asked as he peeled the wrapper away, wondering how Jungkook had made it home before him when he had been at McDonalds before. 

“Uh, she insisted on going home herself. Called her an uber,” Jungkook mumbled between bites and Taehyung stopped unwrapping his burger for a moment to eye him before nodding and continuing. 

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” Taehyung said, trying to make Jungkook feel better, but he shrugged and didn’t really react. 

Interpreting Jungkook’s silence as him not wanting to talk, Taehyung didn’t say anything more and focused on the food in front of him, biting into his burger that was disgustingly cold now, but after the night he had, any food was welcomed, even if it tasted of artificial flavouring and left his throat dry.

And for the next few minutes, Jungkook and he sit in silence, eating. At one point, Jungkook reached for his second burger, tossing Taehyung another one even though he hadn’t finished his nor asked for one. Two bites into his new burger, Jungkook paused and stared at some point in front of him, just not at Taehyung.

“She broke up with me.”

Taehyung looked up, but Jungkook kept his eyes trained in front of him.

“Heejin broke up with me.”

A second passed before Taehyung put down his burger and straightened up. He wasn’t surprised because Yoongi had been right when he had told you that Jungkook and you had been in another world. A blind man could have seen that there was something between Jungkook and you.

“You okay?” Taehyung offered and forgot that he was, deep down, still mad at Jungkook, forgot that Jungkook still made him want to rip out his own hair. 

Jungkook scoffed before dropping his burger. It landed halfway on the wrapper and halfway not, but he didn’t care enough to adjust it. He leaned back and covered his face with his hands, fingers digging into his eyes.

Taehyung was about to make his way over to Jungkook, about to pull him into his arms because he was clearly not doing well, but before he could even move a single centimetre, Jungkook’s hands fell away and he looked up to him.

“Yeah, I am.”

It sounded like Jungkook couldn’t believe himself, like he was angry and frustrated with himself for being able to say that he was okay and mean it, like he wanted to be the opposite, crying and bawling instead.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook said, head shaking from left to right as he furrowed his brows and scoffed at himself. “How am I okay? How am I okay when Heejin, my fucking girlfriend, just broke up with me?”

Taehyung blinked at Jungkook, knowing exactly that he needed to rant right now, needed to get all of the words out.

“She told me to get her an uber and after I did, she turned to me and said that she thought we should break up,” Jungkook recounted, eyes unblinking. “Just like that. We broke up just like that.”

He rubbed his eyes and groaned before snapping out of it and looking back at Taehyung.

“I- I didn’t even fight her on it when she told me to call her an uber. I just did. I did as she told me to, but- but as her boyfriend, I shouldn’t have, right? I should have insisted on driving her home, but I didn’t. I- I knew I should have. I was screaming at myself to, but I just couldn’t. And when she told me we should break up-” Jungkook paused and gestured around like that would finish his sentence. “I, again, didn’t fight her on it.”

A bitter scoff escaped him and Taehyung watched Jungkook shake his head at himself, obviously confused by himself. “Instead of insisting to talk about it or whatever, I just went to fucking McDonalds.” Jungkook punched the bag and it tipped over, slow and sad. “I went to McDonalds! Can you fucking believe? Instead of driving home my girlfriend or fighting for my relationship, I just said okay and went to get food at the shittest place ever.”

Jungkook gestured around himself wildly, hands flailing around like he was drowning and trying to gasp for air. His voice grew in volume and the desperation and frustration seemed to thicken more and more, lacing his every word as he rambled on.

“And it all just doesn’t make sense because it’s not like I don’t care. I do. I do care about Heejin, but it’s just- it’s just-” Jungkook shook his head and pressed his lips into a thin line as he scanned the room for the rest of his sentence. “I just don’t know anymore. I don’t even know why she broke up with me.”

When Jungkook looked at Taehyung, it hurt him to see the frustration swimming in his eyes, hurt him to see how helpless he was. And so, Taehyung sighed and sat up even straighter, gaze levelling Jungkook’s.

“Do you love Heejin?”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

“Was,” Taehyung corrected with a raise of a finger. “But that doesn’t answer my question, Jungkook-” 

Jungkook furrowed his brows at him and shook his head at him.

“What? It does answer your question,” Jungkook said, staring at Taehyung like he had just said the most ridiculous thing ever. “She is- was, whatever, my girlfriend, so, of course, I love her.”

Taehyung scrunched up his nose at Jungkook’s answer and slid his burger to the side to lean forward and be a little closer to Jungkook, needing to look right into his eyes as he said the next word.

“Do you, though?”

Taehyung didn’t give Jungkook a chance to answer.

“Do you seriously love Heejin or do you assume you do because she was your girlfriend?”

Taehyung eyed Jungkook as the words sank into the air and dawned on him, as they replayed over and over again in his head, as they started to push through everything inside him and reached his heart.

“Jungkook, don’t you think there was a reason why Heejin and you had been dating for almost six months and we hadn’t met her yet? Don’t you think there was a reason why you never told her about Y/N?”

He looked at Taehyung, his gaze hazy and clouded with questions. Jungkook had no idea, had no idea why Heejin had broken up with him. She had simply smiled at him and wished him well before getting into the uber, no reason. But he also hadn’t tried to stop her from getting inside and demanded an answer. He had just accepted it with a nod and gotten into his car.

But now, with Taehyung looking at him, gaze digging deep into his, he started to think, started to replay the events of this evening, started to dissect every interaction today. 

He thought about how you all had played Taboo, thought about how you had smiled at him when he had gotten the first word, thought about how you had essentially beamed at him when you two had gotten closer and closer to the win, thought about how you had squealed and jumped up when you had realised you had won, thought about how beautiful you had looked standing on the balcony with the wind blowing through your hair and the sun highlighting your beauty, thought about how he wanted to hold you close to him when he saw you standing there, thought about how you had smiled at him when you had told him you had missed him too, thought about how you were the only thing he could think of.

“I love Y/N.”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips curled up and he nodded.

“I still love, Y/N.”

And once again, Taehyung nodded.

Jungkook slumped into his chair, hands in his lap as he stared at some chip in the dining table, mind far, far away. Never had he been this confused before, never had he ever struggled this much to process anything before.

But at the same time, it made sense, made sense that he was still in love with you. How could he not be? How could he not be when you were the only one that had ever made him so happy that the corners of his lips had started hurting from all of the grinning and his stomach aching from all of the laughing and his lungs screaming for oxygen? How could he not be when you were the smartest, kindest, funniest. most talented, brilliant, inspiring and prettiest person he had ever met?

It made so much sense that Jungkook was still deeply in love with you after all this time, it hurt his brain.

And so, he stayed silent, stayed silent even as Taehyung reached over and bit into his burger after finishing his own.

“What do I do?”

Jungkook surprised himself when he spoke, not intending to, but once the words were out, he wanted the answer. Taehyung put Jungkook’s burger down on his own pile of cheeseburger wrappers and brushed his hands off.

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to tell her. I want to try again. I want to hold her in my arms and kiss her until the sun rises-”

“Okay, calm down, Kook,” Taehyung laughed and leaned back into his chair. “I get it. You wanna rush over to her and profess your love to her in this grand romantic gesture, but take a moment and think about it, about everything.”

Jungkook lowered his gaze and looked up after two seconds, chest pressed against the edge of the table and legs itching to carry him to you.

“You think she’s still up-”

“No,” Taehyung cut in and pointed at Jungkook, burger abandoned to the side once more as he leaned forward. The smile that had pulled on his lips before disappeared.

“Kook, I need you to think about how you’ve treated Y/N these past weeks.” Jungkook straightened up and his legs tucked themselves under the chair when the memories came crashing down on him. “Really think about it.”

And so, this time, Jungkook did think about it, did take a moment and let all of your interaction run through his mind. And the longer he did, the longer he thought about what he had said to you and how he had treated you, the more he wanted to punch himself, the more he wanted to turn back time, the more he wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive him, beg you to just please not hate him.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, fingers clawing on the roots as he cursed himself.

“Bad, isn’t it?” Taehyung said and cocked his head to the side. 

“What do I do?”

“Well, I’d apologise first if I were you and I’d take all responsibility for what, well, you’ve done. And I’d tell her that if she doesn’t feel the way I do, that it’s fine and I will do anything in my power to not make it awkward for her and the fact that she’s friends with my friends.”

Jungkook hummed, hummed because he really couldn’t do anything else. He just couldn’t believe how blinded he had been, how blinded he had been by all of that ugly and unresolved anger and pain.

Taehyung let Jungkook think for a while, think before he leaned forward again and said what he had been trying so desperately to tell him, what he had been trying to get through his thick skull all this time.

“But before that, Kook, I need you to realise that when she made your promise of forever, you were teens. Remember how dumb and stupid we were back then? And I know you felt like Y/N was being selfish and leaving you behind to go study in America, but in reality, she was following her dreams. And you thought that those dreams didn’t include you, but they did. You were the one that broke up with her. She did not break up with you. You did.”

Taehyung paused for a second, arms crossing in front of his chest. 

“You decided to not be in her dreams.”

You banged on the door, banged on it like you were about to kick it in, banged on it like your life depended on it, and when it finally opened, you almost banged on his chest, fist stopping mid-air.

“Who the fuck- Y/N? What are you doing here? It’s five in the morning- wait, why are you all wet? Did you run through the rain?”

You shoved your phone into his face and he squinted, your screen blinding him. The overhead light above you did barely anything to illuminate the hallway you were standing in, leaving both of you essentially in darkness. 

It took him a few seconds, a lot of blinking and wrapping his fingers around your wrist to hold your phone away to finally see what you were showing him.

[heejin - 11:21 PM] : hi! I wasnt sure if I should tell you this or not and I honestly contemplated not to

[heejin - 11:21 PM] : but at the end, I think you should know

[heejin - 11:21 PM] : I’m not too sure what exactly is going on between kook and you, but for what it’s worth, kook and I broke up

[heejin - 11:22 PM] : I hope you two figure out whatever is between you two because I do think you two would be cute. you definitely got my blessing!

[heejin - 11:22 PM] : dream team ;)

Your knuckles turned white around your phone before you let your arm drop to your side. Your heart was pounding in your chest, pounding so much that you were certain that she was trying to leap out of it and fall into his hands again.

Jungkook blinked at you, mouth agape as he struggled to find his voice, struggled to take you all in because did you really stand in front of him, soaked to the bones, hair all tangled up and wet from the rain, chest heaving like you had run all of the way here or was he simply dreaming? Did he finally fall asleep?

“Did I wake you up?” you panted and shifted from one foot to another, expecting him to slam the door in your face.

“N-no, I, uh, I wasn’t sleeping,” Jungkook said and you looked at him before nodding and letting your gaze travel to the side. Your brows pinched together and Jungkook was about to invite you in because, again, you were soaked to the bones, but then, you took a deep breath and opened your mouth.

Here goes nothing.

“Look, Jungkook, I debated with myself for the past four or so hours whether or not I should come here. And then, it started to rain, and, well, I know that you love your romcoms. And even though I also know you probably wanna be the one to execute the grand romantic gesture because you are you and you love so fucking deeply and wholly, I decided that I’m gonna do this because, well, you deserve it.

“When I left for America, I- I truly thought I was going to move on from you at one point, thought you were going to turn into an old love, a memory. I thought that one day I’d tell my grandkids about you, Jungkook, and how you were my first love and how happy you had made me and how bitter our ending had been, but,” you shook your head, “but the truth is, you still have such a hold on my heart. You’re still vibrant and alive in my mind, imprinted in there.

“And I know I’ve hurt you by leaving, but I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, Jungkook,” tears filled your eyes, “I left because having you, having you by my side, as my boyfriend, Jungkook, made me believe that anything was possible, made me want to reach for the stars, fulfill my dreams because before America, you were my dream. You were the one thing I had wanted for so long, and then, I had you. Then, you were mine, and I was on cloud nine.

“I’ve felt so guilty all this time and beaten myself up for leaving because you were obviously still so angry and hurt by that, and unlike what you might believe, I never wanted that, never wanted to hurt you in any way. I need you to understand that I didn’t leave because you weren’t enough. You were and are enough, Jungkook. I left because you made the impossible seem possible, and so, I thought you’d be my side forever, even if oceans and continents and whatever were between us.

“And I realise that was selfish, selfish of me to just expect you to be fine with it. I should have talked to you, told you about the scholarship and my plans and not broken our promise like that. But I didn’t, and I made you think that everybody is selfish and that you weren’t enough. But that’s not true.” You shook your head and swallowed heavily, trying not to choke on your own tears. “Jungkook, you taught me that people are wonderful and amazing and you made me feel like I was more than enough, beyond enough. And you deserve to feel the same way, so, I’m deeply sorry for failing to do just that and for leaving without a proper explanation and talking to you beforehand.

“I know you probably don’t wanna hear this because you probably hate me now, but even if you decide to slam the door in my face and curse me out for the rest of my life after this and forget about all that I’ve said, I want you to know one thing. 

“I love you. I love you so much it hurts, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop, not even if you hate me.”

Jungkook looked at you, gazed into your eyes, and truly, you thought time stopped. You waited, waited for him to say or do something and it felt like eternities were flying past you as you stood there, blinking at him. And even with tears in your eyes, blurring your vision, you could see him clearly, could see Jungkook standing right in front of you.

“Y/N, oh, my love,” Jungkook started, voice shaky before he took a step closer to you. His hand reached up and he cupped your face. Your cheek was cold, cold from the rain, but the moment he touched you, you felt warmth push through you, through your chest, felt the remnants of icicles melt away in your lungs.

“Please, don’t apologise. I should be apologising to you, should be the one banging on your door and begging for your forgiveness. I don’t hate you. I could never truly hate you.” Jungkook swallowed, voice cracking as the words continued spilling from him without a pause. “I- I’m the one that fucked up so badly, I don’t even know how you can still love me. I hurt you so much, said so much dumb shit and made you feel so fucking guilty when you shouldn’t have felt guilty.” He shook his head at himself and held onto you a little tighter like he was scared you were going to slip away if he didn’t. “I’m so sorry, my love, for being so incredibly blinded by anger and pain for so long. I’m so sorry for hurting you and making you feel like you needed to apologise to me.

“Tae is right. I should have taken you to the airport and wished you well. I should have been there with the others and said goodbye. I shouldn't have screamed at you and stayed at home-”

“Kook, babe, no,” you choked out and grabbed his wrist, holding onto it as you shook your head at him. “Don’t apologise. I- I should have talked to you before. You had every right to be mad at me. I understand why you didn’t go. I understand why you couldn’t do it. It’s fine-”

“But I don’t want it to be fine,” Jungkook interrupted and your fingers tightened around his wrists. “I don’t want it to be fine because I know I hurt you by not being there. And I never want it to be fine or okay or whatever if I hurt you.”

Jungkook and you looked at one another, vision blurry and just as the first tear began spilling from the corner of your eye, you took a step towards Jungkook, closing the gap that had lingered between you two and pressed your lips to his.

You kissed Jungkook, kissed him standing on the doorstep of his front door, kissed him standing there, soaked to the bones, kissed him like it was just you and him in this universe. Your body leaned into his and your hands were desperate for him, desperate to just touch him. You grabbed onto whatever skin and piece of Jungkook you could get, and he did the same, but your kiss was soft and calm, the opposite of your hands. You held onto you like you were drowning, like you were Rose and Jack.

You moved your lips against his and your smile grew the longer you kissed Jungkook. And you wondered if he could also feel the sun shine in his chest, if he could also taste the honey and sugar and love trapped between your teeth, if his skin was also prickling everywhere you touched him, if fireworks were also exploding in his stomach like they were in yours, if this was enough of a grand romantic gesture for him.

You wondered if Jungkook could feel just how much you loved him.

The sun rose behind you two, and when you two pulled away to breathe, you smiled at each other. 

Jungkook didn’t let go of you and neither did you. He cupped your face once more and pulled you close to him. Your breath mixed with his, heavy and varied, but it was all good, all good because smiles were on your lips, all good because you had each other again.

“My love,” Jungkook breathed, and gazed into your eyes the way he had when you had won that round of Taboo and smiled at you the way he had when he and you had stood on the balcony. “I love you.”

“Kook, babe,” you started, pecking his nose before beaming at him, beaming at him like you had used to, beaming at him because he was your sun and your dream. “I love you more.”

Jungkook leaned in for a quick kiss, leaned in the same way he used to whenever his heart pounded a little too much in his chest. And you pressed right back against him, lips finding his, and you knew,

Jungkook was warmth.

Jungkook was home.

Jungkook was love.

“Fucking finally.”

Jungkook and you pulled apart and jerked around to the source of the sound, and when you saw them standing there, behind you, your heart stopped mid-beat. Your jaw went slack as you blinked at them, unable to process what was happening right now.

“Worth it, right?” 

Jungkook and you whipped your heads around one more time, and it was then that you saw Taehyung standing behind you, hands shoved into his pockets and body leaned against the door to the living room.

“Eh, was kinda obvious that this was gonna happen at one point,” Yoongi mumbled with a shrug, clearly unbothered, but Yerim was the complete opposite, hands pressed to her mouth as she tried to stop the squeal from spilling free.

“Oh my God!” she shrieked, voice so high it hurt and Jungkook and you cringed. “I- I’ve been literally dreaming of this!”

“So, worth it, right? Coming here?” Taehyung asked again and squeezed himself between Jungkook and you to step out into the hallway, prompting you to move to the side a little.

“Yes, absolutely!” Yerim grinned and nodded vigorously, and for a moment, you thought her head was going to come off.

“What’s happening right now?” you asked and your hands found Jungkook’s, your fingers lacing with his for some kind of support.

“Oh, yeah, I heard you banging on the door, so, I called up Yoongs and Yeri and told them to get their asses here because our best friends don’t get back together without everybody here to witness it,” Taehyung explained with a shrug.

“Wait, how did you two make it here in time?” Jungkook asked, thumb brushing over your hand as he stepped closer to you to look at Yoongi and Yerim.

“Yeah, unlike what you might think, Kook, traffic isn’t always so bad and there aren’t always fires around,” Yoongi smirked and Jungkook gasped behind you. 

Taehyung, Yerim and you looked at each other, jaws going slack before you started grinning and all three of you had to bite your lips to stop the laughter from spilling free. Jungkook tugged on your hand and you tried your hardest not to laugh, but when you looked at him, you just couldn’t stop it.

Pearls of laughter spilled out and you took Taehyung and Yerim with you. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze, and Yerim hid behind Yoongi, trying her hardest to avoid Jungkook’s gaze.

And even though he was offended and tried to keep looking like he was truly offended, he couldn’t help but laugh with you all, couldn’t help himself when he saw you grinning at him like that.

“Can we go now?” Yoongi smiled when you all had calmed down, the bags under his eyes darkening with every second he wasn’t in his bed. “It’s five in the morning and usually, I’m in bed during this time.”

Taehyung smiled at him. “Only if you say, it was worth it.”

Yoongi groaned and threw his head into his neck, not enjoying that answer at all. Yerim giggled and nudged him with her elbow, but instead of just saying it was worth it, Yoongi decided to argue with Taehyung.

“It was so obvious that they were gonna get together again. I honestly wouldn’t have minded if you hadn’t called me.”

“Min Yoongi, are you seriously telling me that you wouldn’t have minded missing out on our best friends getting back together?”

“Honestly? Yeah.”

“He’s lying. Yoongs loves Kook and Y/N together.”

“What’re you talking about, Yeri? I don’t-”

“Do I have to remind you that you texted me last week that you couldn’t believe that they weren’t back together yet?”

“Oh, Yoongs, that’s so cute.”

“Why would you believe her, Tae? It’s bullshit!”

Too busy watching Taehyung, Yerim and Yoongi argue with each other, you didn’t notice Jungkook turning away. So, when you suddenly felt cotton brush against your arms, you were more than surprised.

“What?” you blurted out before looking down at yourself and seeing one of Jungkook’s jackets around your body. 

“Thought you might be cold. You know, with all of that running through the rain and everything,” Jungkook hummed with a shrug and you stared at him for a little before you smiled at him again. You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss against his lips, a kiss that had the corners of his lips curling into the most beautiful smile.

You hugged Jungkook’s jacket closer to your body, trying to keep that warmth in your chest locked down. The smell of his detergent and sweat mixed with your senses and you felt all dizzy, but it was the good kind of dizzy, the kind of dizzy you loved, the kind of dizzy only Jungkook could ever make you feel.

And when he wrapped his arms around you, you quickly wrapped your arms around him too. Your lips brushed against his neck and you left a kiss there, trying to make sure that he would never ever forget that he was more than enough, never ever forget that you loved him like nobody else in this world.

And with his arms around your body, you, once again, felt like the impossible was possible, like the stars were yours to grab, like nothing could ever come between you, but unlike before, you knew that this time, it was all true.

“I love you,” you hummed into Jungkook’s ear and he smiled into your hair before tightening his arms around you.

“And I love you.”

Jungkook and you gazed into each other’s eyes, sunlight sparkling in your pupils before you both slowly leaned into each other, more and more. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and you knew that any second now, he would kiss you. And the thought alone had your heart racing and your breath hitching and your hands shaking but in the best ways possible. And right as your lips were about to connect,

“Fine!” Yoongi grunted and silenced Taehyung and Yerim, cutting them mid-sentence and Jungkook and you mid-kiss. “It was worth it. I missed Kook and Y/N and I’m more than overjoyed to see them together again! My heart is literally melting in my chest and I can’t wait to go home because I wanna shriek and scream into my pillow!”

Jungkook and you turned your heads around to see a panting Yoongi. His eyes were big and nostrils flared as he glared at Taehyung and Yerim.

“Happy now?” he asked through gritted teeth and he looked between Taehyung and Yerim, who were exchanging glances with each other. There was a beat of silence and a second later, the two burst out into laughter. Jungkook and you had to grin too, but you still shook your heads at your friends, the situation far too ridiculous.

“Hey, Yoongs,” Jungkook called over your head before looking at you. When you nodded at him, he turned back to Yoongi, who was, at this point, fuming and mumbling to himself, cheeks red. “You can go home now.”

“Thank you!” Yoongi grumbled and threw his hands into the air, but before he could turn around and drive home with his cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red, Jungkook interjected,

“But you are a dumb, little bitch.”

Yoongi’s jack went slack as he furrowed his brows at Jungkook, more than caught off guard by the sudden insult. It was clear he was struggling to process it, but so were Taehyung, Yerim and you, all three of you going silent at Jungkook’s words.

It took you a moment to understand why Jungkook had said what he had said, and when you did, you burst out into laughter.

You gasped for air as you threw your head back, laughter rippling through your chest, and Jungkook joined you, bending over as he laughed his heart out as well. And soon enough, Taehyung joined you two, finally making the connection himself. Yerim started laughing as well, but only because Taehyung, Jungkook and you were laughing.

Yoongi was left blinking at you three as he struggled to decide whether he was offended or amused, and judging from the smile tugging on the corners of his lips, it was the latter.

“Not like that,” you said with a shake of your head and Jungkook shrugged at you.

“What? Isn’t that we were talking about when we said to bully Yoongs?” he asked with that proud smirk on his lips, that proud smirk he always got whenever he managed to make people laugh. Taehyung and you shook your heads at him, both definitely not thinking of calling Yoongi ‘a dumb, little bitch’ when you had agreed to bully him a little. 

It took a while, but soon your laughter died down, but the grins stayed on your lips.

“Definitely not like that,” Taehyung agreed with you, fingers wiping away the tears, and you three locked eyes with each other, grinning, no, beaming. 

Yoongi sighed after he had enough of whatever this was, and turned on his heel, but once again, before he could go, Jungkook interjected,

“Hey, I think you should all just crash here. It’s, well, early and probably better for you two to not get behind the wheel right now.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to protest, but then, he stopped himself and paused, gaze levelling Jungkook’s.

“I get your bed?”

“Sure thing, I’ll kick you out of it,” Jungkook grinned and even though that had not been the response he had wanted, Yoongi shuffled inside, Yerim right behind him.

“I’m happy you guys are back together,” she told you two as she walked past you and you grinned at Jungkook, a grin he returned right away.

Taehyung let out a sigh, lips still pulled into a smile before he, too, shuffled inside, gaze meeting yours when he did. 

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, seriously. Thanks,” Jungkook hummed and Taehyung laughed before waving you two off, dismissing your words with a flick of his hand.

“No need to thank me,” Taehyung grinned. “I’m just happy that you two are back together.”

Both of you wanted to disagree, but Taehyung silenced you with a smile. And right as he was about to turn into the living room to figure out where Yerim and Yoongi were going to sleep, he looked over his shoulder and met Jungkook’s and your gaze.

“You can name your firstborn after me if you’re truly thankful.” A pause. “Taehyung Jeon. Doesn’t sound too bad, right?”

“You think we would name our firstborn after you?”

“You think I would take Kook’s last name?” 

Jungkook gasped next to you and took a step back, hand gripping your elbow to draw your attention to him. His brows were slightly furrowed together and his mouth agape.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with Jeon?” he asked and you stared at him.

“Gonna leave you two alone now,” Taehyung laughed, not wanting to see where that conversation was going, and joined Yerim and Yoongi in the living room.

“Nothing. Don’t you worry about it,” you said with a smile and stroked Jungkook’ cheek, and instantly, he melted into your touch, frown washing away. “It’s fine. It’s a nice last name.”

You pinched Jungkook’s cheeks, making him pull away and just as he was about to complain and tell you not to pinch his cheek, you continued,

“You know, fine and nice for now.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew big at your words and before he could ask you what exactly you meant with that, (because you knew he was going to. It was Jungkook after all.), you closed the door behind you two. You patted his chest and took his hand to lead him to the others, but he stopped you, pulling you back to him, smirk on his lips.

“You wanna fulfill Tae’s wish?” Jungkook asked with a quirk of his brow and you looked at him, lips pressing into a line. When you didn’t respond, the smirk fell away, prompting you to smile at him again. 

“Let’s join the others, yeah?” you said with a wink, enjoying teasing him a little too much. You didn’t wait for an answer and turned on your heel, but once again, Jungkook stopped you.

“How about we fulfill my dream, then?” 

Jungkook looked at you with the same smirk on his face again, and before you could stop yourself, you laughed at him, shaking your head from left to right. You leaned up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek before patting his chest and walking backwards, pointing at him as you did.

“Just get me a towel.” 

→  links don’t work, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts/feedback! i’d love to hear it!

[hermannsthumb]

90+96?

90. Unexpected Virgin + 96. Scars 

from fanfiction trope mashup here

continuation of me filling ancient, 2 year old prompts in my inbox! sometimes you just gotta return to the basics and write post-movie first time :’) this is the first thing ive written on my new laptop, MOMENTOUS OCCASION. as u might have guessed 18+/NOT SFW BELOW CUT

—————

They’re about an hour into the impromptu We Didn’t Die! party currently ravaging the base when Hermann–stripped out of his sweatervest, and clutching his cane like a lifeline–suddenly grips Newt by the forearm and swings him around to face him. “Newton,” he declares, as the contents of Newt’s plastic cup slosh to the floor, “I would like to invite you back to my quarters.”

It’s probably due to the two shots of vodka Newt downed in quick succession about twenty minutes into the impromptu party that the innuendo flies right over his head, and, instead of accepting enthusiastically, he merely draws his face into a pout. It’s not unusual for Hermann to force him to go to bed, especially after a week of all-nighters in the lab, but now? During this? They’re practically guests of fucking honor. “To sleep? Lame. I’m not tired. Hey, unwind, have a drink!” He pushes his plastic cup into Hermann’s face.

Hermann pushes it away. “I believe you misunderstood me,” he says. “I’m asking you to have sex with me, Newton.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

They’re out of LOCCENT in a flash, and bursting through the door of Hermann’s cramped quarters in another. Newt has been fucking vibrating with energy all day long–excitement, elation, fear, straight-up terror–and he’s more than ready to unleash all twelve hours’ worth of it, plus twelve years’ worth of pathetic pining, on Hermann in the most awesome, cathartic victory sex the world has ever seen. And now that they’re finally alone–now that they’re finally alone together–

“I am so fucking horny right now,” Newt breathes. He kicks off his boots: one of them flies across the room and knocks over a precariously-balanced stack of books, while the other smacks against Hermann’s dresser and sends a photograph of Newt and Hermann crashing to the floor. “Holy shit, you have no clue. Oh my God.” Truthfully, he’s been sporting a half-boner since he threw his arm around Hermann in LOCCENT, and Hermann gave him that little smile and tucked up against him, but Hermann doesn’t need to know that. 

Hermann’s eyes are dark, and his pupils are wide. He wets his lips as those eyes sweep over Newt. “I. Ah. I am, as well.”

“Fuck yes,” Newt says. He moves his hands to his collar, where he rips off his tie, but he stops at his buttons with a grin. He could at least pretend to play hard to get. “Hey, you want me to take my shirt off?”

“That’s typically what’s done, isn’t it?” Hermann says. “During–” He clears his throat. “During these sorts of things?”

“Right,” Newt says. “Okay, do yours too.”

They take their shirts off. Hermann is sporting a nice set of shoulders and biceps, and an even nicer set of pecs, and Newt thinks that trim waist would be the perfect size to wrap his fingers around, but his too-pale skin hugs his ribs a little too-tightly. There’s not a hint of hair in sight. The exact opposite of Newt, basically, in all his hairy, tattooed, out of shape glory. It’s kind of perfect. Newt bets they’d fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces.

He wolf-whistles before he can help himself. “I should’ve known you’d be even hotter under all those stupid sweaters.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. His mouth twitches up into a coy echo of his earlier smile. “Thank you. I think.”

Newt wants to get all over that hot bod, and so he does, inching up to Hermann until their stomachs brush and their chins bump, and planting his hands on either side of that neat, sexy waist. He’s right about it being the perfect size to grab. Hermann watches him through his dark lower lashes, standing perfectly still; he’s holding his breath. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

They kiss. It’s pretty cool, even if Hermann stands as stiff as a board, arms hanging limply at his sides, and even if when he finally decides to use tongue it’s at the moment Newt decides to use teeth and he ends up firmly biting down on it. “Ow,” Hermann hisses, pulling back sharply.

“Sorry,” Newt says. “I haven’t gotten laid in ages. I kinda forget how to, uh...” He tries to kiss Hermann again, but at Hermann’s darkening, skeptical expression, drops it. “Uh, you wanna take this to the bed?”

“Take off your jeans first,” Hermann says.

They stare at each other.

“Not–I mean yes, but–what I mean is they’re filthy,” Hermann snaps. “I’m not having you dirty up my sheets. Grime and blood and who on Earth knows what else.”

“Sure,” Newt says, and grins again. He fumbles with his belt and drops his jeans, and Hermann’s gaze drops too. Never one to pass up putting on a show, Newt tips his crotch forward to make his boner just that bit more prominent, and just that bit more in Hermann’s personal space. “Like what you’re seeing?”

Hermann nods.

Newt takes Hermann’s right hand and places it on his hip, just the waistband of his boxers. “You wanna take these off?” he says. He punctuates the question with a little kiss to Hermann’s throat. It’s so smooth–not at all like the scratchy, stubbly mess across Newt’s. He kisses it again, just ‘cause it’s nice, and feels more than hears the low rumble of a groan that rises in the back of it. Hermann’s shut his eyes.

“Ah–Newton–”

When it becomes clear Hermann won’t be sticking his hands down Newt’s boxers any time soon, Newt backs him up to his bed and pushes him down into it. Hermann sprawls backwards with a small thump. His cane clatters to the floor. “You gotta do some of the work here, dude,” Newt laughs.

To his surprise, Hermann flushes. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I haven’t much. Er. Experience, with this sort of thing. I’m not quite sure what to do.”

This comes as no small surprise to Newt. Hermann’s just…Hermann, y’know? He’s bitchy, and weird, and kind of weird-looking, but he has a sexy way of rolling his r’s and a sexy mouth and, apparently, a sexy bod, and if Newt–the guy’s certifiable rival–has wanted to get into his pants for ages, he’s sure he can’t have been the only one. But hell if the thought of being the first one to do it doesn’t turn him on likes crazy. “Luckily for you, I’m a pro at sex,” he lies. “I’m amazing. Just ask anyone. Wait, uh, not anyone, I don’t mean–”

“I know,” Hermann says. He sits up and plucks at Newt’s waistband. “May I take these off now?” He wets his lips again.

“By my fucking guest, dude,” Newt says.

Hermann tucks two elegant, nimble fingers under the elastic and slips Newt’s underwear down to pool around his ankles, finally letting his erection breathe a little. Newt leers down at him. “What about now?” he says. “Huh? You like this?”

But Hermann isn’t looking at his dick, inches from his nose though it is; Hermann’s looking to the left of it. “You have a scar here,” he says, and pokes at a small expanse of skin on Newt’s thigh between two tattoos.

“Uh,” Newt says. “Yeah, dude. I rammed into a table when I was rollerskating in the house once and had to get stitches.”

Hermann traces his fingers over the scar. “You must have been quite the handful as a child,” he says wryly.

The incident in question happened when Newt was twenty-four, but he decides it’s best to not divulge that particular bit of information to Hermann. “Uh. Yeah.”

Hermann reaches down and unbuckles his own belt, then begins to partially wriggle out of his stupid baggy pants and tighty-whiteys. “We’re matching,” he says. “Look.”

His left hip and thigh is a mess of scar tissue that Newt imagines, at one point, must’ve hurt like a bitch. Way more than Newt’s stupid incident with the roller skates. Way more than could even be compared to Newt’s stupid incident with the roller skates. But he smiles anyway: he likes the idea of it being some giant, flashing sign from the universe of their drift compatibility. “Have you looked in the mirror?” he says, and shuts his non-bloodied eye to make his point. “We’re not just matching there.”

“Hopefully not permanently,” Hermann says. He finally turns his attention on Newt’s dick, scrutinizing it like it’s one of his incomprehensible equations. It gets Newt even hotter. “Would you like to have sex now? I’m eager to put your renowned skills to the test.”

Newt doesn’t miss the sarcasm. It’d be kind of hard to. “Jackass,” he says. “Move over, I’m getting in.”

Hermann divests himself of the rest of his clothing and shuts off the overhead light while Newt makes himself comfortable on Hermann’s bed, though he leaves his small bedside lamp on to cast them both in a cozy yellow glow. All of Hermann’s room is shockingly cozy, in fact: the quilt tucked in neatly to his cushy mattress, the tea kettle on his dresser, the soft rug on the floor, the space heater (shut off) half-hidden in the corner. No wonder Hermann sleeps in so late. If Newt’s setup was like this, he’d never leave his quarters either.

“We could get under this, if you’d like,” Hermann says, pinching a bit of the quilt. “It’ll be warmer. It can get very chilly in here.” He fidgets. “And. Er. It’ll be easier to wash my sheets, rather than…”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Newt says.

They move under the quilt. Hermann’s breath is warm on Newt’s face, and losing a layer seems to have imbibed Hermann with a newfound sense of confidence; his hands begin wandering across Newt’s body, up his sides, down his back, squeezing and pinching his skin, cupping his ass, and he layers kiss after kiss to Newt’s neck, his throat, his jaw. Newt rocks into each touch and moans helplessly. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Hermann murmurs into his ear. 

Newt laughs weakly. He’s gotten cute once or twice, but he doesn’t think anyone’s ever called him beautiful. It’s nice. He likes it. “Aw, dude.”

“You are,” Hermann says. “I’ve always thought you were. It’s been a terrible distraction in the laboratory.” He leans in and kisses Newt, still as graceless and chaste as before, but his low murmur has returned when he finishes, and it makes heat pool in Newt’s stomach. “Mm, sometimes all I could think about was how badly I wanted you.”

“Sometimes I used to jack off after we argued,” Newt blurts out.

Hermann blinks, surprised, and laughs. “Did you?”

“In the bathroom. Once in the supply closet. Nnh. Ah, fuck, Hermann, fuck–”

Bored of talking, apparently, Hermann’s decided to creep his hand lower and curl it around Newt’s dick. His touch is light, and unsure, and it kinda just makes it all even sexier. “I wish you told me this was your first time,” Newt whines out, pushing into Hermann’s fist. “I would’ve, guh, bought you dinner. Or something. We could’ve waited. Made it–made it meaningful.”

“Darling,” Hermann says, “this is perfect.”

Hermann kisses him; Newt comes, gasping and whining into his mouth. It’s a little embarrassing. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever called him beautiful, but he knows no one’s ever called him darling, and with Hermann the one being so sweet to him--it’s too much.

“Shit,” he pants afterwards, while Hermann examines the sticky mess on his fingers with mild interest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to--I wanted to last longer.”

“Oh, we’ve got all night,” Hermann says, sounding pleased. He wipes his fingers off with tissues from a box on his bedside, then drags Newt’s hand under the covers to cup his own neglected dick, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly. Newt swallows down a whimper. It’s not fair that Hermann is doing better at this than Newt. “I would like very much for you to touch me.”

“Okay,” Newt squeaks.

[dialux]

made weak by time and fate, but strong in will, iv

Ah. Um. Warnings for this chapter include body horror, which is not usually one of my things but people with a vivid imagination might find it... disturbing. Other than that it’s just the usual family drama and eternal fight against evil, vagaries of war, etc etc etc.

Chapter 4: there will also be singing

Lily walks into the tea shop quietly. It’s sheeting outside- not the kind of rain that she’s used to in Hogwarts that freezes a person to the bone; the kind of spring rain that’s almost warm but inescapable. She grimaces at the water seeping through her shoes but keeps her fingers away from the wand. A warming charm isn’t worth the magic right now- the Ministry won’t care, certainly, but the witch in the corner will definitely identify it.

And Lily’s here on a favor to Sirius. Which means bearing through the discomfort. Which means being a good little spy, head down and mumbling her order to the waitress. Which means observing the witch sitting two feet away from the fire covertly, and not being observed in return.

Andromeda Black- if it is her; she’s wearing a glamour that’s taken Lily near ten minutes to even confirm, much less identify- is a slender woman with hair so dark a red it looks practically black. She looks comfortable here, which at least affirms what she’d owled back to Sirius, but Lily’d have been stupid to take her word for it.

Lily’s not stupid. Neither is Andromeda, and agreeing to meet a suspected Death Eater who’s just escaped from Azkaban without any reservations? 

That’s stupidity of the highest order.

Which means something else is afoot here.

She sips her tea slowly, savoring the rich taste, and focuses through the steam on Andromeda. Her seat is angled to see both the entrance and the majority of the room; if a fight breaks out, Andromeda won’t have to worry about being attacked from behind. Lily’s eyes narrow on the cut to Andromeda’s clothes- they’re far more conservative than most muggles would wear, but not out of place in this chilly weather. But they also mean that there isn’t room for her to hide weaponry.

A wand? Lily sets the teacup down and breathes, shallow and even. Yes, but Sirius said- she’s not good at charms. Or transfiguration. 

Both of which are necessary for healing, and Andromeda is good at healing. Sirius had just shrugged when Lily mentioned that, but a healer without good wand-work is quick to be a healer without a job. If Andromeda Tonks- disgraced daughter of House Black, who abandoned a marriage to Lucius Malfoy to wed a muggleborn, with enough enemies on both sides of this war to have probably been among the war’s first casualties- maintains her job at St. Mungo’s, then it’s not because of any patronage. It’s because of quality.

I’m an idiot, thinks Lily, fingers twitching. She drains the last of her tea and makes a production of checking the time on her watch before getting up to leave; best not to give people a reason to remember her. I’m a muggleborn who can ward better than most purebloods, despite no formal training. Of course she can be a healer without being quick. It just means-

She emerges into the rain and inspects the squat building critically. There’s no way Andromeda would have defaced the front; it’s too visible. But every city has back alleys, and if Lily’s got her measure of this one right now...

She slips through the narrow alley to the side of the building, so small that she’d have missed it if she hadn’t been looking so closely. Her shoulders brush brick on either side. Then she’s at the back of the building, and though it stinks of refuse- Lily feels momentarily dizzy with it- there’s a small staircase leading up to the roof of the tea shop. It’s half-rusted through. 

Lily grits her teeth and walks.

On the roof, she kneels on the gravel to see. Lily doesn’t know exactly what she’s looking for, and she can’t search for it- latent magic’s tricky that way- but she’ll know it when she finds it. Her fingers scrape along the brick of the side-bar until she feels a strange smoothness. Magic abruptly blooms around her, and her forearm blazes with heat. Heart racing, she ducks under the lip to check.

Four runes are glowing a dull red on a transfigured metal brick.

“Fuck,” mutters Lily, backing away. 

Wards can be constructed with wand-work, runes, or some mix of the two. Wand-work tends to be quicker; runes tend to be stronger. Lily’s never had the patience to delve deep into rune-study, but if Andromeda did- of course she won’t need flashy wand-work, then. Not if she’s brilliant at runes. 

Lily doesn’t recognize these runes either, and she’s not confident enough to trigger them any further without knowing what they stand for. When she glances around her, she sees a red dome- the same shade as the runes- covering the entire roof. 

No trying to escape. Lily lifts her wand and focuses on a happy memory before dragging the point of the wand down. A swan emerges from its tip, and she watches it wing away swiftly. So you bring the escape to you.

The entire point of Lily coming here before Sirius is to ensure there’s nothing lethal in Andromeda’s defenses. Not to activate them. But what’s done is done- best to alter the plan than beat a dead horse. 

There’s a scraping sound behind her, and Lily turns to see Andromeda standing at the entrance to the roof. She’s wearing an oily black coat that looks waterproof. Her hair’s no longer that peculiar shade between red and black; it’s just black, and her resemblance to Bellatrix can’t be missed.

“Well, then,” she says, wand aimed directly at Lily’s chest, “who are you?”

“Lily Potter,” says Lily calmly, rising to her feet and nodding back. 

Recognition sparks in Andromeda’s eyes. “You were in the Prophet a few weeks ago. You-Know-Who came to your home?”

“We escaped,” says Lily. 

“Obviously. How?”

“Magic.”

Andromeda’s lips twist. “And you’re here to warn me away from Sirius, I presume?”

“No,” says Lily, before twisting her wrist into the movements of a warming charm around them. The rain’s irritating enough without having this conversation in it. “I’m here to make sure you don’t kill him.”

“I won’t let you hurt him.”

It takes a moment for Lily to make the connection- clearly, Andromeda’s read the papers; she knows that Sirius betrayed James and Lily. She lifts an eyebrow back at Andromeda instead of bristling, as she wants to. “And I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I’m not fool enough to believe that Gryffindors don’t look for vengeance,” warns Andromeda. Abruptly, her back straightens, stiff as a board. “And I’m not fool enough to ignore a man trying to sneak up on me!”

She whirls around and throws up a shield, just in time to meet the red light of a Stunning spell before slashing her wand to the left.

Latent magic, thinks Lily, distantly impressed even as she ducks behind a convenient chimney for cover. Sirius, I hope you know what you’re doing.

Tiles, stacked neatly under a tarpaulin, emerge and fold themselves into dense arrows. Another flick of Andromeda’s wand animates them, and they follow the direction of her wand to shatter against Sirius’ shields. This is what runes can do in the hands of a master, and Andromeda has clearly spent years making this a battleground fixed in her favor.

Sirius is- in relative terms- holding his ground impressively. 

He’s drawing the rain around him in a spout that gathers all the debris from the tiles. Lily watches as he then redirects the spout to spit back at Andromeda. When she chances a look again, Andromeda’s got a shield surrounding her body that shines blue when one of Sirius’ spells splashes against it. Her head is tilted back, wand aloft, and the rain swirling around them looks less like an encumbrance to her and more like an appropriate backdrop to her beautiful face.

“Ad astra!” cries Andromeda a moment later, and magic explodes around them like white fire.

It blinds Lily. The first thing she sees when her sight returns is Sirius, caught in binds of something around his wrists and ankles. The rope looks like liquid silver; it winks and disappears and flares when he strains against it.

“Lift your wand, and I’ll bind you too,” says Andromeda coldly, turning colorless eyes on Lily.

Lily lifts her hands, open and weaponless. “We had to make sure you weren’t... colluding.”

“Colluding with whom?” Andromeda’s lip curls upward, disgust written plain across her face. “Those who’d kill me for my choices and my daughter for her blood?”

“Well-”

“Or those who remain as ineffectual and moronic as ever?” 

Lily’s mouth snap shuts. Sirius, behind Andromeda, goes still.

“I warned him,” says Andromeda, patting a strand of hair back into place. “Dumbledore, that is. This is what happens when you surround yourself with Gryffindors. Stupidity. The people you’re fighting against are chessmasters, and what are you? Untrained fools!” She shakes her head, and her voice goes flat and cool once more. “Hope can only get you so far, Evans,” she says. “Hope and luck- they will run out one day. Mark my words.”

“I know,” says Lily. “I know. Why d’you think we’re not with Dumbledore right now? We can’t. There are spies.”

“This is war,” says Andromeda, looking at Lily like she’s stupid. “Of course there are spies. Your mistake was not thinking of putting one of your own in their camp.”

Don’t lose your temper, Lily reminds herself. We’re here for a reason. Don’t you dare forget it.

“We need help,” she says bluntly. “We know that. We know that now, at least. We need people we trust. It’s why Sirius wanted to speak to you. Some... advice. Help.”

“Help, or people you trust?” Andromeda smiles, bitter. 

“Help from people we trust,” says Sirius hoarsely. 

Andromeda turns so she’s facing them both at once. “I won’t be a body in your war.”

“Our war,” says Lily softly.

Sirius shakes his head sharply at her, and speaks before Andromeda can. “Believe it or not, Andy, I’m fond of you. I’d rather you didn’t die as well. And I know how good you are at magic, so it’d be better if-”

“Give me a reason to help you.” She shrugs, loose and precise and elegant as a snake wrapped up in silk. “Give me a reason to fight, Sirius.”

“You don’t, and they’ll come after you one day,” says Lily. She lifts her chin. Looks right back at Andromeda. “I killed Bellatrix, so they might’ve forgotten about you, but don’t think that’ll last forever. You’re small fish. But they’ll come for you soon enough.”

Andromeda’s face tightens. “I’ve survived this long. I’ll survive them, too.”

“You’ve survived our family, Andy,” says Sirius quietly. “Not- them. They’re ugly. Cruel. Bellatrix wasn’t even their leader. Can you imagine? Someone smarter. Someone colder. Someone better than Bellatrix, at all the things she loved.”

Something shivers over Andromeda’s face, like a shadow passing over the sun. 

“But if you help us,” whispers Sirius, barely louder than the patter of rain around them, wrists glinting silver and light like bound starlight, “if you help us solve this one thing- I’ll help you get out. There’s a home in Spain. Small. Well-protected.” He swallows. “And I’ll name your daughter the Black heir.”

“Impossible,” breathes Andromeda. 

“No,” says Sirius, an odd smile twisting his face. “Not impossible. Just very, very difficult.”

Andromeda closes her eyes. Presses the tips of her fingers to the corners, and rocks backward. She looks like a woman reborn when she lets her hand drop: something gleams in her eyes that Lily hasn’t ever seen before. Her similarity to Bellatrix is even more pronounced, but so is the similarity to Sirius. 

“Let’s go back inside,” she says. “Show me this magic you need help with.” She levels a look at Sirius that ought to have melted him to ash. “And we’ll talk.”

...

Andromeda had never run from the Blacks. She’d run from the marriage they forced on her; she’d run from the lack of choices; she’d run from the Malfoys. But she’d also run toward something, which wasn’t anything Sirius had ever had.

She’d always wanted to return, and she’d never quite managed it.

Take what people love, thinks Sirius darkly, shadowing Andy’s steps down the stairs and to the front of the table, wrists aching. Know it. Use it. This is a war, is it not? And I am a Black. 

Be careful what you wish for.

“The Black heir?” Andromeda demands, flicking a drying charm over herself with careful precision. 

Sirius relaxes into the chair and flexes his wrists slowly. Whatever Andromeda had used to bind them had felt cold, so cold it hurt. He doesn’t look away from her- the girl Sirius had once known had been kind, but war has the tendency to scrape kindness away to a faint dream.

“As the Heredis, such is my right.”

Andromeda’s knuckles whiten on her mug of tea. “You were disowned.”

“Legally,” agrees Sirius. “Not magically.”

“A technicality?” Andromeda asks. “You think that’ll be enough for our grandfather?”

“What other choice does he have?” retorts Sirius. “Leave it to a Malfoy? To a Lestrange? Who else is there, Andy? We are the last. And I have his word- a vow. That I am the Heredis.”

For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything. Sirius chances a look over his shoulder to Lily, who’s hunched over her own hot drink and looks half-drowned. He turns back, and Andromeda’s face is set in harsh lines.

“The Sirius I knew wouldn’t come back for anything,” she says. 

It’s not a question, not precisely, but Sirius knows what she means. 

Why now? Why now strengthen House Black, when all it’s done is shove pain onto his shoulders? Why would Sirius even care?

There are many answers, each of them true in their own way: those who hurt him the deepest are gone; there’s a war on; Sirius has grown enough to accept lesser evils to achieve the greater. But the truth of it, the underlying stone on which all else is built is-

“Regulus is dead,” Sirius tells her bluntly. “Regulus is dead, and You-Know-Who killed him. He killed him, Andy.”

Killed him. Not true, not in the deepest sense of the word; but true enough. Regulus had run to Voldemort for shelter, and it was a weapon hewn by Voldemort’s own hands that killed him. Sirius looks up, at Andromeda’s colorless eyes, at Andromeda’s sharp, Black features. 

“We know how to defeat him,” he says softly. “Regulus’ killer. And we need your help for it.”

Andromeda sets her cup down, slowly enough that it makes no sound in the saucer. She looks- tired. And frightened. And something else, too, running under it all: determined, like a hound on a scent or a hare resolute on reaching its burrow before being eaten. What would a person who ran for years on end want? What would the wife of a muggleborn and the mother of a halfblood and the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange want?

What would a Black want?

(Because beneath everything else, Andromeda is a Black. She can run from it; she can hide it; she can deny it. But it runs in her as it runs in Sirius, fierce and unapologetic.)

Not just safety. 

Slytherin desire, thinks Sirius. Vengeance. Justice.

Delight and hatred war within him. Manipulation isn’t quite so difficult as he’d thought, and it’s that which makes it more terrible. Delight at getting what he wants; hatred at doing it this way. 

He doesn’t look away from her, and Andromeda doesn’t break her gaze either.

“I’ll need proof,” she says. 

For the briefest heartbeat, the delight triumphs over the hatred. It feels like sunlight over a cloud. Like wings spreading warmth over his bones. 

Sirius indulges in that wild feeling: he kicks back his chair and stands, draping his coat around his shoulders and flicking his fingers at Lily to get up. Andromeda remains, stiff, in her seat. 

“You’re done?” asks Lily, blinking at him.

“Yup,” says Sirius, relishing the word. He reaches out to thread his fingers through hers. Andromeda narrows her eyes at him, and he steps forward and bends down to whisper in her ear. “Tomorrow, cousin. Carry that coat with you.”

And he disapparates.

...

“It’s a trap,” says Remus.

James tips his head to the side. “And if it isn’t?”

“James-”

“If it isn’t,” he murmurs, “we’re going to be really pissed that we didn’t try.”

“And if it is, we’re going to be dead.”

“Mmm. ‘m a Gryffindor.”

“One day that’s going to get you in trouble.”

James waves the parchment under Remus’ nose. “We have to go, Moony,” he says softly. “We have to.”

“Fine,” says Remus. It feels like he’s back at Hogwarts: defeated, but not quite minding the defeat. Committing to a bad idea for no reason other than knowing it’s a terrible idea, and accepting that before he even gets started. But he’s so fucking tired of keeping quiet and hiding. Let them see his fangs. Let them see what he’s capable of. “Fine. But you’re telling Lily.”

...

The next morning, Andromeda meets him on the same roof. She wears the same coat, her hair unwound and spilling like rusted steel down her spine. Sirius’ hand is tight on Kreacher’s shoulder. 

“Sirius-” she says, startled.

“Tell her what you told me,” Sirius interrupts. 

He releases Kreacher and walks away, an impatient itch rising from somewhere near his boots. He knows the story; there’s no need to listen to it again and again. He could probably recite the events in his sleep anyhow. 

Regulus is dead. 

Sirius exhales through that twisting pain. The grief of it. He wants, selfishly, terribly, to see Regulus as a ghost. He doesn’t know what he’d say- sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, it should never have happened like it did- but he wants it anyhow. He wants his little brother back.

He’ll never get it.

A hand comes down on his shoulder, and Andromeda wraps her other arm around him. Presses herself against his chest. Weeps, like something has shattered loose inside her. 

“Oh, Sirius,” she whispers, what feels like hours later. “That’s- oh, Merlin. I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t’ve-”

“He liked you a lot more than me. I should be comforting you, if any-”

“He was your brother,” says Andromeda. “You were- everything. To him. The brightest star in his sky. The person he could hate, without ever doubting your love. The- the compass by which he spun, and by which he measured the world. He loved you. Regulus never, never forgot that.”

“Andy,” whispers Sirius.

She lays her forehead to his. “Sirius.”

He swallows past the hot tears in his ribs and runs his fingers through her hair until he feels he can talk without letting them out.

“I thought- I wanted to do something for him.”

“Yes,” says Andromeda. “Anything.”

“A Black funeral. I know where his- his corpse is. Kreacher can take us there. It might not be easy, but. We should.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be incapable of doing anything else for three days after.”

“Yes.”

“It might become dangerous.”

“I’m up for that,” says Sirius. “Are you?”

“We need a third person. A third Black,” says Andromeda. But then, slowly, her eyes narrow into the distance. “But I know someone who would do it.”

“Well, then.” He swallows, throat dry. “What’re we waiting for?”

Andromeda nods. She gets up, shaky and uneven. The sun doesn’t break through- it’s cloudy, but there’s the barest suggestion of light running above it. Her hands reach out, and lift him up, and she clutches his forearms with too-sharp nails.

“Three days’ time? The dark of the moon, I think, that’s the proper night to do it. We’ll meet- I’ll tell you where to meet.”

Sirius nods. Andromeda steps back, and then she turns away. She doesn’t look back.

...

“Gringotts?” asks Lily. 

Remus lifts an eyebrow. “They were the ones to send us the letter.”

“The goblins don’t like us much,” says Sirius.

“The goblins don’t like anyone much,” retorts James. “But I think they’ll like the Death Eaters even less. It won’t be long before he starts cutting heads off, and the goblins hate anyone interfering in their politics more than anything else.”

“You’ll be risking your life on an opinion.”

“Well,” says Remus dryly, “we’ve been doing that for quite some time now.”

Lily cuts a glare at him, and Remus raises his hands in surrender. 

“Lils,” says James softly, and she turns to look at him. 

He doesn’t speak; Lily reaches out and grips his hands. “We have so much here,” she whispers. “So much to lose. Jimmy- our family, our family. How much are we willing to bet on the chance of getting allies in- fucking Gringotts?”

"I’d rather die on my feet,” says James, in the rhythmic cadence of a quote, “than live on my knees. I love you, and you love me, and that’s why we’re going to fucking win, Lily. What am I willing to bet? Everything.” Lily doesn’t shudder, but Remus thinks there’s the gleam of tears in her eyes, “I believe in us, Lils. Always will. Always have.

“Doesn’t mean you have to risk your life for no reason,” drawls Sirius, biting the words off like a fox, all sharp-toothed and furious.

“Like you aren’t risking it in giving Regulus a funeral?” asks Remus.

“That’s-”

“Unnecessary,” says Remus smoothly. “But you want to do it, and that’s why I’m not stopping you. We’ll be careful, we always are- but we aren’t going to stop. Map things out. Study. Do some research. If it all checks out- if the risks seem worth it- then James and I will go in. This isn’t us asking for permission, Sirius.”

Sirius closes his eyes, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Remus wants to go over to him. Kiss him, smooth a finger over that tensed tendon. But Sirius always mistakes gentleness for an apology, and Remus isn’t sorry. Not one bit.

Lily gives a watery chuckle. Steps away from James. “Just forgiveness, then?”

No, thinks Remus, the latent heat of a not-quite-fight in his muscles still. An exchange of information.

“Before the action, too,” says James fondly. “You ought to thank me for that.”

“You?” asks Sirius disbelieving, eyes not opening. 

“Ah, alright then,” says James, and he’s smiling easily; he’s not even bothered. “It was Remus’ idea, if I’m being honest.”

“Knew it,” mutters Sirius, and he slumps further into his armchair.

Remus feels the anger crack away like a walnut shell under a nutcracker’s jaws. It’s not fondness that replaces it; just something hot, like a knife to the ribs. Like the drip of hot wax on skin. Without James they’d be stuck on the first wash of hot anger, always. Almost-fights and too bitter words. The fury of things lost. They aren’t like Lily or James, either of them. Too scarred. Too angry. Too harsh. But with them?

Somehow then, they feel like something approaching perfect.

“Shut up,” says Remus, but he doesn’t mean a single word of it.

...

Lightning crashes above her. Andromeda does not flinch, does not move. She waits, hidden in the curve of a giant tree root. 

She doesn’t wait for long.

Another woman emerges out of the undergrowth, pale haired and pale faced, dark robes wicked close to skin from the rain. Her hair is braided so tightly it pulls at the loose skin of her face and leaves her looking strained.

That just might be her face, though, thinks Andromeda ruefully.

She steps away, giving the woman a moment’s privacy and waving her wand to put up the protections around the small cave. She feels the buzz of old, strong English wards like a tremor along her teeth. Only when she’s certain there’s no breach does Andromeda turn to look at her sister.

“Narcissa,” she says. “How are you doing?”

Narcissa’s dried herself off, but a fraction too much; her hair’s no longer tamped down but a gravity-defying bush that hangs around her head like stardust. She looks altogether too irritated at it.

“Terrible,” says Narcissa lowly. “This rain hasn’t abated in too long. I think I’m going to expire from the dampness.”

“But you’ve won the war,” says Andromeda, sharply cheerful. Watches Narcissa stiffen, like the corners of paper brought too close to flame. “Tell me, Cissy, how does triumph feel?”

“We haven’t won anything yet.”

“The Ministry’s yours.”

“And Hogwarts stands, doesn’t it?” snaps Narcissa. “Don’t act like you’re an idiot. I’m surprised you’re not huddled inside of it like all the other blood-traitors, actually.”

Andromeda lifts an eyebrow. “So surprised you decided to meet with me?”

“I thought it was important.” Narcissa hunches in on herself. “You haven’t asked anything of me since you ran away. When I saw your owl I thought... well, I hoped you’d learned a lesson. Since the Ministry fell.”

Amusement flares inside of Andromeda, followed and inextricable from disgust.

“Because I was afraid?” Andromeda purses her lips when Narcissa doesn’t answer. “Gryffindors aren’t the only ones who know courage, Narcissa,” she says softly. “I would never be able to kneel to anyone. Particularly him. I would draw a knife over my daughter’s throat before I led her into that den of demons, and you know that.”

She’d been so young when she left her family behind. Seventeen summers; a vicious age. Andromeda hadn’t loved Ted back then so much as she’d loathed Malfoy, but she’d grown into both emotions over the years. She can still remember the satisfaction of walking out of her house when everyone believed her imprisoned in her bedroom, wandless and helpless.

Andromeda had shattered her mirror. She’d used the shards to slice into her palms and draw blood-runes on the carpet she’d once played on as a child. She’d walked out, and she still doesn’t regret the scars along her palms.

The wand she holds now is new.

Narcissa knows this.

(And still, she’s come. That must mean something. Andromeda can only hope-)

“You said you needed my help,�� she says, eyes glinting. 

Andromeda inclines her head. “Sirius has escaped Azkaban.”

“He’s on our side.”

“Is he?” asks Andromeda. “Sirius, our Sirius, who spat on his father’s memory and laughed when he heard of his aunt’s death? Who raised a wand to Bellatrix and lived to tell the tale? You think Sirius hid his feelings for that long, do you?”

“I- no,” says Narcissa. “No. But I thought he’d- someone had-”

“You didn’t think about it, then.”

“Don’t patronize me,” she says, eyes glittering. “I knew something was wrong. But there’s been something wrong for weeks now, ever since Bella died. Ever since...” Narcissa cuts herself off, peering at Andromeda far too closely. “Sirius escaped. Andromeda. How did he escape?”

Andromeda folds her arms over her chest.

“Outside help,” breathes Narcissa. “He didn’t manage it on his own.”

“Of course he didn’t,” snaps Andromeda. “He was in Azkaban, you think he could break out of there on his own?”

“And this is dangerous.” Her eyes narrow, too-thoughtful. “Because the person helping Sirius isn’t in Hogwarts. The timeline wouldn’t work out, would it? They’re outside. There’s another rebellion, and it’s outside, and- oh, Merlin, it’s underground, isn’t it?”

Sometimes, Andromeda forgets exactly how sharp Narcissa is. The leaps she can make in seconds, which others wouldn’t catch for weeks.

“It’d hardly be surviving if it weren’t.” 

Narcissa trembles at the words and whirls to leave. To tell her husband, and then You-Know-Who. And then-

Andromeda shakes off the specters of the future. Focuses. 

“Before you leave,” she calls out to Narcissa’s back, “you’ll want to hear one more thing.”

Narcissa whirls around. “Andromeda-”

“Our grandfather has chosen a side. And it isn’t your husband’s.” Narcissa goes white. Andromeda reaches forwards and clasps her upper arm. Squeezes, gently. “It’s time for you to choose yours, Narcissa.”

She doesn’t move. “I’ve chosen it.”

“You’ve let our father chose your side,” says Andromeda fiercely. “Then your husband. You have kept silent, and let yourself be carried by their decisions, but that does not mean you must always be so. You hadn’t had any support for all these years- you survived it- but that doesn’t mean you no longer do.”

Narcissa laughs shrilly. “No longer? Who will stand up to Him now? Who will dare? Dumbledore will fall soon; Hogwarts will crumble. And then all that will be left is the Dark. Survival means-”

“-our grandfather knows about survival,” says Andromeda. “Arcturus Black. Famously neutral, despite having grandchildren on both sides of this war. He’s willing to act now, and he has Sirius on his side, and they want our help.”

“With what?” Narcissa asks tightly. “I won’t do anything against Him, even if-”

“And I’m not asking that of you,” says Andromeda. “What, do you take me for a fool? No- I’ll promise you that You-Know-Who won’t care about your actions at all. They will neither hinder nor help him. This is... purely a Black family matter.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do I look like I’m lying?” asks Andromeda calmly. “I know you won’t help with that, so I’m not asking it of you. But you’ll want to do this.”

“Andr-”

“It’s Regulus.”

Narcissa’s mouth snaps shut.

“Yes,” says Andromeda quietly. “I rather had the same reaction when Sirius told me.”

“He’s dead.”

“Yes,” she says, throat hurting. “But Sirius found where he died. He’s honest about it; I checked it out. And now he wants to give Regulus a Black burial.”

Narcissa blinks rapidly. “But he doesn’t-”

“Regulus did. It was important to him.”

Narcissa swings away, pacing the length of the cave with rapid feet. 

“A Black burial,” says Andromeda, as gentle as she can make her voice. “Whether you choose our side or not, whether you decide to take a different path or not- I hope you’ll come tomorrow.”

“You don’t know the rituals properly.”

“I know enough.”

“Andromeda-”

“Come,” says Andromeda. “For Regulus’ sake, if not anyone else’s. For the boy we both loved, and cared for too little to save. I hope you find heart enough within you to regret that. To make amends for what you could not offer him in life.”

The last thing Andromeda sees before she apparates away is Narcissa’s face: her blue eyes, her hopeless eyes. The color of a cloudless sky. The exact opposite of the sky above them. Her little sister. 

Her little sister, who she can save. 

...

Sirius lands on the packed dirt of a sea-salted hill. The earth crunches under his feet. He hisses out and hunches his shoulders. Stalks down to the edge of the water, where the foam turns the sand dark as his hair. It’s a cold day. A cold morning. The sun hasn’t set yet; the clouds swirl over the horizon.

There’s a pop behind him.

Sirius turns, wand balanced in his palm, and spares a moment to swear even as he raises the wand.

“What the fuck, Andromeda?”

Andromeda swipes a lock of hair out of her face. She doesn’t flinch at his threat. She doesn’t move away from Narcissa.

“I told you I knew someone,” she says calmly.

“Not her!”

“Sirius,” says Andromeda, and she moves forward so swiftly he barely sees it- one moment she’s ten feet away, and the next she’s gripping his arm tight enough to cut into his skin. Her eyes look- grieved, and saddened, and harsh like the storm roiling over their heads. “Regulus is dead. D’you understand that?”

“Of course I do,” hisses Sirius. “What the fuck, you know I-”

“Regulus is dead, but Narcissa isn’t.” Andromeda looks up at him, and there is something blazingly hopeful in the Black-planes of her face. “My little sister is alive, Sirius.”

“She’s made her own goddamn choices,” says Sirius flatly. “Her- her husband, her parents- her sister- she’d stand by and watch you burn alive if-”

“My sister,” says Andromeda. “Or have you forgotten that?”

Then Narcissa steps up to her side, and she looks so different: Rosier coloring. Fair hair and pale eyes. But the gleam to her eyes and the set of her face sing out Black. 

(Everyone always forgets Narcissa’s temper.)

“I’m not here for you or her,” she says flatly. “I’m not here to be saved. But Regulus was a good man, and I loved him, and I wasn’t there for him when he died. Giving him a Black funeral’s the least I owe him. Let’s finish that.”

Sirius feels something wordless, nameless, rise in his throat. He considers, briefly, cutting it and ending this terrible farce. He’s so fucking tired.

“Fine,” he snaps instead, and turns on his heel, and calls for Kreacher.

...

Andromeda shivers as they land on the island. She feels Narcissa snake a hand through hers, soft and cold, as they step into the dark cave. She hears Sirius’ muttering, the magic flaring around them like a snake with jaws large enough to swallow them whole. Sirius’ wand flicks once, and Andromeda sees the effect of their family magic on Voldemort’s enchantments: one Inferius emerges out of the water and lands at their feet. It twitches once, full-bodied, before Sirius’ magic breaks Voldemort’s and releases that which made Regulus an Inferius. 

He lies there instead, a corpse and nothing more.

Shaking, she steps forwards to see him. The red flame of the cave gives enough light to see Regulus. Just enough that she wishes it didn’t.

There’s nothing recognizable about him apart from the long hair. The fat has been sucked away; there’s barely skin on his hollow face. It looks like a skull. Like someone’s joke of a skull.  But somehow, his eyes are intact. Grey and large and empty.

Narcissa gasps, preternaturally loud, at the sight.

Sirius isn’t moving. He stares at Regulus, and doesn’t look away. 

It’s his privilege to take the body away. He’s Regulus’ brother, and the Family Heredis, and it is his right and his duty to take Regulus’ body to a place with clear skies so the stars can look down on their son. But he doesn’t move for so long- long enough that Andromeda almost waves her wand to levitate Regulus’ corpse instead. Sirius doesn’t deserve this kind of quiet, wrenching pain.

She cannot see Sirius’ expression, and she’s thankful for it: if there’s one thing that could break Andromeda, it would be seeing Sirius, who’s never managed to hide one emotion in his entire life. 

Then he inhales, rattling, and leans down. Cradles Regulus’ sodden hair, his skin-stripped skull, and lifts him up into his arms like Regulus is- was- a child.

“Come on,” he says roughly.

...

The sky is dark now, the stars hanging over them like ground diamonds. Sirius climbs over the ragged stone until he comes to a relatively flat surface. He lays Regulus down with infinite tenderness, unsure of where it’s even coming from: he’s never been a particularly soft man, nor a kind man, and war has taken even the vestiges of those traits from him. But Regulus’ body feels like a bird’s, all bone and feather and weight from water. Like something precious. Like something lost, and found, and shattered. 

His own chest feels hollow.

He kneels over Regulus. Those awful eyes look back at him, grey and familiar like a blade. Sirius touches one, the soft skin over it. He thinks he’d give anything in the entire world if someone would just close them for him. 

Distantly, he realizes that he’s making a sound: something ululating and raw. He hates it, and himself, and Regulus, too, of course, because there have only been a handful of times in his life that Sirius hasn’t hated Regulus, and he can scarcely remember how that would feel.

Andromeda catches him. Draws him up against her, arms warm and warm and warm, endlessly. She’s shushing him, rocking him. It would feel comforting, but only to someone who’d experienced it before; all that Sirius remembers of weeping like this as a child is the white-hot firewhip of pain down his back, across his jaw, wrapped around a wrist. 

He drops his forehead to her shoulder. Digs his hand into the skin of her spine.

“He,” he says, and his voice scrapes like a scalpel across his throat. “He. He-”

“Yes,” whispers Andromeda. There are tears in her eyes as well; like the diamonds, like the stars. Grief in all its impossible permutations. “I know, Sirius, I know. I know. My brother. Regulus. Oh, darling, I know.”

He hunches downwards. “I can’t.”

Andromeda’s hand wraps around his wrist, and she runs a hand across his jaw. Down his spine. Where did you learn this kindness? thinks Sirius wildly, even as she soothes some old pain, some old fear. How did you-

Then he sees her gaze, and there is steel within it like a nut at the core of a sweet. Like iron in the heart of a star.

“Yes,” she says implacably. “You can. You must.” Sirius shudders, and she brushes his tears away with the gentlest hands in the history of sisters. “You wanted to give this to him, Sirius, to your brother. You will. You can, and you must, and you will, by all the vows you want me to swear.”

“I can’t.”

“Then you are capable of even more than you believed.”

Slowly, she steps away. Sirius closes his eyes. Searches for the strength to see Regulus again, like that: dead, cold, empty. It’s so different, knowing he’s dead and seeing it for himself. 

It’s so difficult.

But he is a Gryffindor and he is a Black and he is Sirius, at the end of it all. That means something. That means holding his promises. That means doing his duty. That means loving endlessly, impossibly. That means going to his brother’s corpse and giving it the farewell it deserves.

“Okay,” he says, swaying, and takes the elbow Andromeda gives him for balance. “Let’s get this over with.”

...

They return, and Narcissa has done something. Her magic hangs over the sparse grass and stone like a twinkling blanket. Andromeda thinks her face looks strained; she wonders if Narcissa regrets coming. If she regrets seeing what her side is capable of. But then Sirius stumbles and nearly pulls her down, and when she looks at him to see what’s wrong, his face is white.

The scent hits her next.

Dagga, sharp and aromatic. It weaves around her like it’s one of her childhood summers. Neither Andromeda nor Sirius have ever been any good at conjuring, but Narcissa...

Andromeda blinks at her, and she shrugs stiffly. “He liked Mum’s greenhouses,” says Narcissa quietly. “Called it peaceful. When it all became- too much- for him, he’d come over. Stay in the greenhouses until he felt better.” She bites her lip, voice turning formal. “And that is my gift to him, for all the years I knew Regulus.”

Sirius inhales sharply. He steps away from Andromeda, towards Regulus, and drops to his knees. Cards a hand through the hair. 

Slowly, Andromeda takes out the locket she’d spent the previous days carving. A lion. A star. A dog. A snake. The whorl of a galaxy. The curve of a narcissus flower. Wands and magic and stone and darkness for all that Regulus was, is. For all of the people he’d loved. For all the people who loved him. Who love him.

A locket filled with a memory.

She lays it on his chest, and doesn’t look away when the bright glow of the memory emerges out of the locket.

It is not a pensieve; it will not remain in the locket once played. The locket will play the memory once, and only once, and then it will be gone. It’s nothing special, what Andromeda’s chosen- just a summer afternoon, gold as butter and just as soft. Regulus shouting and laughing. The bounce of his hair; its hint of a curl. There are other memories that she might have chosen, of his quiet courage, of his soft, stolen kindnesses, of his determination. But this is what she chose in the end. Just the joy of childhood, unencumbered by any of the loss of growing up.

Only when it’s finished does she realize that she’s gripping Narcissa’s hand again.

She looks to Sirius and sees that his face is tipped up, the golden cast of the memory shining on his face, illuminating the tears.

“That is my gift,” says Andromeda, somehow keeping her voice from cracking. “For the years I knew Regulus.”

She closes her eyes and nearly sags from the relief. 

Now it is Sirius’ turn.

...

The light sears his eyes. He wants to sob with it, but he controls the gasps even if he cannot control the tears flowing down his face. Sirius has to speak for this part. 

“I should have saved you,” he says, and the words that had sounded bitter in his bedroom that morning are as soft as Andromeda’s wrists, as Lily’s hair, as Remus’ skin. Sirius runs a hand through Regulus’ hair and shudders in revulsion, even as he cannot make himself stop. “I will never forgive myself for not being there for you when you needed me. If you’d just asked-” the anger crests, ebbs, a hot ember that is carried away by the tide of his words. “But I didn’t make you feel welcome for that.

“I have no flowers for your grave or memories of joyous times long past. I was not there for you; I cannot undo that. But.” Sirius looks up, skitters his gaze past Andromeda and Narcissa to look at the stars above them. Their forefathers, who he’s hated for so fucking long. “Vengeance, Regulus.”

He doesn’t think. It’s almost mindless, a dream coming to the inevitable conclusion. A wand pressed against his elbow, a spell murmured in the depths of his mind. The stinging heat of blood spilling out. 

“I can offer you vengeance, by my wand to the man who did this,” whispers Sirius. “I assure you: when the stars again shine like this, he will be dead. Blood for blood. Grief for grief. In a year’s time: He will die.”

He gets up, and the stars swim all around him- pinpricks of light dotting the sky, the sea, his vision.

He ignores it all.

“From the stars we came,” Sirius grits out, and raises his wand, blood still dripping down his arm. He thinks Narcissa and Andromeda are echoing him, but he doesn’t pause. This is his, his brother, his ritual, his choice. “To the stars do we go. Come to see your son now! The regal Regulus! My brother who was Heir and beloved! Hang him in the stars as a hero of old and let the world never forget what he was!”

“Come down,” cries Narcissa from behind him, Andromeda to his side. “And retrieve him, and let him rest in peace for the rest of his days!”

Silver light darts down. Wraps around Regulus. Sirius staggers but keeps to his feet, and he sees through the blinding brilliance: Regulus made whole. The pared-away flesh filled out. The eyes given brightness. The glittering drape of the stars around his shoulders, like wings. His brother shifts, and looks at Sirius, and he raises a hand.

The light moves to Sirius and tugs at his wrist. For a moment, Sirius almost moves into its embrace- would have, if not for Andromeda’s suddenly fierce grip on his shirt- and when it lets go, the wound on his arm is gone. It’s replaced by a long white scar that freezes when he touches it.

He doesn’t look away from Regulus. If this is the last time he sees his brother-

“I love you,” says Sirius, the words taken from some deep, bone-deep part of himself. “I love you. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

The light grows brighter, and Sirius cannot see into it any longer, and he is crying, crying, crying, blind as a babe and unable to stop. His little brother, gone where he cannot see. Their last words to each other-

I know, Sirius. Words like music, like moonlight, like the wash of waves on stone. I love you too.

Sirius drops to his knees, and closes his eyes, and breathes through the twisted wreckage of his chest. He doesn’t reach out. He knows what will be there if he does. Regulus is gone, now; gone for good. The words were more than anything Sirius could have ever hoped for. But if he reaches out and receives nothing, he will shatter.

The emptiness in him howls.

He hears through it, at a great distance, Andromeda: “Go home. Yes, he’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later. Go.”

And her arms, her shoulders, propping him up, guiding him back. The nausea of apparation. The darkness of Grimmauld Place. Remus’ warmth. Lily’s spells. James, white-lipped and pacing. Then darkness. Comforting, soft darkness.

...

In another world, Sirius dreams of blood and vengeance and the squeal of a rat caught between his teeth.

In this one, he dreams of stars.

...

Lily stares at Sirius’ prone form. She turns to Andromeda and lifts an eyebrow.

“He’ll be fine,” she says. She looks far worse than just that morning; Andromeda’s hair’s unraveled out of its braid, and her eyes are red-rimmed. She’s holding her wrist at an angle that implies some kind of injury- Lily isn’t certain if it’s a bruise or a sprain. “It was the shock. The magic poured into him, from the rest of the family- and it was all on Sirius, not us.” She shakes her head. “It has an effect. He won’t be able to use his magic for three days. Anything more complex will take longer.”

“It flooded him,” says Lily quietly.

Andromeda inclines her head. “It’s more than any of us can imagine. And of course, it wasn’t just that. Seeing Regulus like that... it would have been enough to shake even the hardest-hearted witch.”

“You don’t look so good yourself.”

“It’s just shock,” she says. Passes a hand over her face and looks, hopefully at Lily. “But I don’t suppose I could bother you for a Pepper-up?”

“Not an issue. Follow me to the library?” 

Lily waves aside Andromeda’s explanations and lets her into the room. Pours out a measure of Pepper-up, and tops it up with a gin so bitter it made her eyes water when she came across it last week. It’s underhanded, but she suspects that Andromeda’s exhaustion isn’t so much of magical origins as it is shock and grief. And as selfish as it is, she cannot let her indulge in that grief. Not when in the middle of a war, particularly with time running away from them and their entire operation balanced on a knife’s edge.

“You’ve brightened it,” comments Andromeda, looking around the library with a slightly incredulous eye. She raises her hands when Lily glances back at her. “It’s a good change. Just one I never thought to see in Grimmauld Place, of all places on earth.”

Lily hands her the goblet and settles back into an armchair opposite Andromeda. “I couldn’t see anything,” she explains. “Aesthetics and all are fine, but for the amount I was reading? I’d have gone blind sooner rather than later.”

Andromeda sips the drink. She makes a face. “You were reading a lot?”

“Am reading a lot.”

“On identifying the-” Andromeda drops her voice to a whisper, “-horcruxes?”

“Yes.” Lily sighs. “It’s not easy- I can develop the rituals without any issues, there’s definitely enough resources on those- but I’m not sure about the runes; they aren’t my specialty. And when I build the models, none of them work.”

For a long moment, Andromeda doesn’t respond. Then she leans forwards and catches Lily’s eye. “What’s the biggest issue you’re facing right now?”

“Well.” Lily pauses, marshals her thoughts. “We need an anchor over the entirety of the island- I thought of using the ones that the Ministry sank almost four hundred years ago.”

Andromeda’s eyes narrow. “The ones for the Age Line?”

“And accidental magic.”

“You-Know-Who used them too.”

“I know,” says Lily grimly. “It’s where I got the idea from.”

Slowly, Andromeda nods. “So you’re going to edit it,” she says. “Carve your own runes.”

“Sink some of my own that work off of that magic,” corrects Lily. “Like a leech, almost. Directly affecting those anchors is too difficult, and too delicate. But a ward that basically uses that energy for our purposes? Easier. Far easier.”

“Let me see the papers?”

“Accio,” calls Lily, and catches the sheaf that spins out from the opposite part of the room. 

She hands it over to Andromeda, who studies it with the wide-eyed deliberation of someone who isn’t entirely functioning at a hundred percent. Lily busies herself with putting away the gin and locking the Pepper-up again. 

“Hm- what element are you associating the anchors with?”

Lily turns. “Water,” she says. “The anchors were purified with water rituals, weren’t they?”

“Not just water.”

“That’s not what the- there’s a codex here-” Lily rifles through the stack of books that makes up her references and picks up a heavy book titled Codex of Elemental Magicks, “-that says it’s just water.”

“It would,” says Andromeda, stretching back. “That’s what they all say. Ministry didn’t want people knowing the truth, did they? And treating it as one element when it isn’t usually makes things explode. Makes it easier to ferret out all of those dangerous people interfering with their constructions.”

“Andromeda-”

“They’re water and earth,” she says, turning to look Lily in the eye. “That’s the issue you’re facing. The anchors are made to have as little interference as possible- that’s why they combined water and earth. Disrupting one is difficult enough; two braided together’s all but impossible.”

“The stability,” says Lily faintly. “No wonder it’s lasted for four hundred years.”

No recharging needed. No wonder magical Britain had survived Grindelwald and the World War with such ease: their borders had better security than a twenty-foot charged electrical fence. No wonder the rest of the world little wants to get involved with Britain, when it’s so easy to portion them off and away.

Andromeda taps at the parchment where Lily’s worked out her water-nullifying ritual. “You’ll need fire and air together for your runes, if you want it to act as a rider. Nullify the portion of it that specifies no external influence.”

“It won’t be possible,” Lily whispers. “Fire and air. Two elements? Rituals involving elements are volatile enough without adding two together. I’ve never even heard of someone who can do it.”

Andromeda sets her cup aside, eyes glittering. “You need someone who can use fire and air,” she murmurs. “Who can use fire and air to make a physical model of the anchors.” Her cheeks are flushed, and she smiles at Lily, and something clicks in that moment: hot and fierce, like a rush of a river let free from a dam. “I know someone.”

...

“No.”

“It’s necessary.”

“No. I hate her.”

“Sirius.”

“Not. Her.”

“The last of the Infirres. We need her.”

“She won’t answer if she knows it’s me!”

“She’ll answer the Black Heredis.”

“No.”

“Sirius- it’s the only way. Already we’ve lost too much time. Do you want to be the limiting factor? Once this gets done, we can find them.”

“You swear it’s the only way?”

“Yes!”

“I hate it.”

“Sirius-”

“Fine. Do it. But don’t expect me to like that I-don’t-lie-at-all smug bitch. Or to be polite to her.”

“That, I’ll never ask of you.”

...

When the magical people of Britain desired to craft a Statute of Secrecy, the world hadn’t known how it would work. They came up with a solution by building a magical barrier that spanned the northern-most island, the southern-most beach, the western-most mountain and the eastern-most forest. They sank four large anchors into the sea, carved of earth magic and hewn of water magic, and directed that magic into their Ministry of Magic.

There are rituals which hijack the magic of those runes and direct it elsewhere. It takes preparation and care. One mistake can ruin it all.

But Lily doesn’t make mistakes.

...

Fotia Infirre emerges out of the fireplace with a sword in her hand and her hair like flame behind her. She’s a tall woman; her eyes are like blue fire, bright and incandescent. The clothes she’s wearing are simple, but neatly done. Lily tips her head back and watches her, carefully.

“Andromeda,” says Fotia crisply. She turns to Sirius and nods to him, too, without a trace of the resentment Sirius has spent the last two days swearing exists. ��Heredis.”

“Infirre,” says Lily. “I cannot say how thankful I am that you came.”

Something hardens in her expression. “I could not refuse.”

“What she means,” says Sirius, “is that my ancestor bound her to our line. She must answer if the Heredis or the Lord calls.”

“That was not all that Lycoris did to my family,” says Fotia. 

Andromeda reaches up and presses her fingers to Sirius’ shoulder, presses him back into his chair. “No,” she says softly. “No. That was not all. We ought to have protected you better. I am sorry for that.”

“A truth curse,” says Fotia bitterly. “Everything that we’d given up for you and yours, and then you let Grindelwald kill us. From elder to mother to child. Until there was only me.”

“Why would Grindelwald curse your family?” asks Lily.

Fotia looks at her directly, and Lily shivers. “Because we were the only ones who could have broken through his wards.”

Lily closes her eyes. Thinks through the implications. 

The only family that could have broken through Grindelwald’s wards. Grindelwald, who’d spent summers in Godric’s Hollow, hearing all of Bathilda’s old stories with a fervor that had left Bathilda suspicious even as she enjoyed telling them. Grindelwald, who’d left Britain and established a base for himself in a castle in the middle of a Balkan forest. A base that had a moat.

“He used water and earth anchors,” she breathes. “Like the ones around Britain.”

Fotia inclines her head.

Lily clutches at the back of the chair. Breathes out. Says, “You can nullify anchor-based wards?”

“Only water-earth ones.”

“How?”

“Air and fire,” says Fotia. “That is what we Infirres do.”

“All magic is aligned with an element,” interrupts Andromeda. “Some are mixes of two. The oldest, greatest magical constructs had all four elements. But most have... fallen out of use recently.”

Fotia laughs, high and sharp as a bird. “Fallen out of use?” she asks. “Have the decency to call it what it is.”

Andromeda sighs. “They were killed,” she says. “Slaughtered, all of them, after the anchors were sunk.”

“Why?” asks Lily. She’s thinking very hard. She can make out the edges of it; she thinks so, at least. “It’s only applicable for making magic stable. Runes. Wards. Spells have only a nominal adherence to the elements.”

“Ah, but the Ministry doesn’t like things being stable outside of its purview,” says Sirius, kicking back in his chair. “Or have you forgotten that, Lils? They don’t like people knowing things that they think are dangerous. They don’t like people making things they can’t do. When you hear what they did to the Blowtons-” he shudders theatrically, and doesn’t finish.

“They killed them,” says Fotia flatly. “Hired them to make the anchors, then drowned them all under the guise of a rogue magical wave. It was the Department of Mysteries according to some rumors, but we won’t ever know for certain.”

“And it doesn’t matter now,” says Andromeda forcefully. 

“No,” says Sirius. “It does.” He’s looking very hard at Fotia, for all that his posture’s still insouciant. “When Lycoris bound you to my family, you accepted because you felt that you had no choice. Because we’d protect you.”

“We did protect them for more than three centuries!”

“Andy. They died.” Sirius places his hands flat on the table and leans forward, and doesn’t look away from Fotia’s glittering blade or glowing eyes. “And all we said was too fucking bad, we’ve got our own problems. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“Yes,” says Fotia softly.

“I’m the Heredis, and I’m formally relinquishing what’s binding you to me. You and whatever heirs you might ever choose.”

Fotia doesn’t move for a long moment. Andromeda’s gone white-faced and pinched-lip beside Sirius, which doesn’t bode well. Lily considers keeping silent. It feels almost sacred, the soft cast to Sirius’ face; the way Fotia’s eyes look like dark, glowing pools of fire. 

But they’re fighting a war, and patience only means time for the other side to catch them.

“You’re free now,” she says, and holds out her hand to Fotia in a painfully muggle gesture. “So. Here’s to asking. Will you help us make those air-fire runes?”

Fotia blinks at her. Looks at Sirius. At Andromeda. 

“The Blacks protected us for a long time,” she muses. “I still cannot tell a lie, Lady Lily, and that is because your friend’s family abandoned mine to the wolves. Do you know what it does to you, to see your parents die before your eyes? To see them all perish, one after the other, simply because of the kindest lies- I’ll be fine, I’ll work with this, I love you. One after the other. Again and again. I buried them, and wept, and had to keep going. All alone.” Fotia sweeps a hand over her hair, pushing a lock back. “And you will still ask me to help you? Knowing all that I would have had if the Blacks had held to their vows? Knowing I am just now freed from mine?”

Lily bears up under the flood of words as well as she can, all rolling shoulders and flexing fingers. 

“I am fighting a war,” she says carefully. “For the first time in- years- there are three sides to it. The Blacks hurt you, yes, but only through negligence. Tell me, Fotia, who put that curse on your family?”

“Grindelwald,” murmurs Fotia.

“Precisely. He hurt you. He was responsible for their deaths. And I am fighting against the man who would make Grindelwald’s dreams reality once more, only harsher. Crueler. I am fighting- we are fighting- to ensure he doesn’t continue his reign of terror. And I know you were wronged by the Blacks. But you aren’t alone in that feeling- I’m muggleborn! A mudblood! My parents died at Death Eater hands because of me. Sirius- his parents threw him out of their house at sixteen. Andromeda ran away instead of marrying their handpicked Death Eater.” 

She leans forward, heart in her throat. “Remus is a werewolf, and my husband’s other best friend.” Doesn’t look away from Fotia’s gaze, even when she feels scoured raw from it. “Our world is broken. I have never, not once, not once, denied it. But if we turn away- if we ignore it- it won’t get better. The only way to make it safer, to make it better: it’s to do it ourselves.”

“You cannot win this,” says Fotia. “His armies- have you seen them? They will crush you. Without any second thoughts.”

“I’ve faced him four times and survived each,” replies Lily softly. “I’m giving you the chance to fight back against all the things that have been taken from you. To give it to another generation. To make the world a better place than what you had.”

She holds out her hand again, painfully muggle, proudly muggle. She is not Lily Evans, but she was once that. She is muggleborn. That blood runs through her veins, rich and muddy and dangerous. She is Lily Potter, and she will not lose what she was in favor of what she becomes. Not for anything.

Fotia draws herself up, tall, inscrutable.

Then she smiles.

“Yes,” she says, and takes Lily’s hand. 

The contact zings through her palm like something electric, but hotter. Like candleflame, the blaze manageable and softening into comfort. Lily remembers James, who’s so far away, who’s in such danger; she remembers the way Harry would yawn when he first woke up from a nap; she remembers the glint of light across her father’s wristwatch.

She loves them all so much. She has lost her parents, but she thinks: if I lose this too, I have lost it all. I cannot survive it.

But Fotia has. She’s older than Lily; but not by much. Probably of an age with Andromeda. And she survived Grindelwald. She survived the death of her family. That’s something- startling. That’s something wonderful.

That’s something so hopeful it feels like the blade in Fotia’s hand has slid into Lily’s chest.

...

James glares at the stone building. His heart pounds. Remus is beside him. The sun feels cold, despite being high in the sky. James had promised Lily that he’d be careful- but he’s running on instinct, the kind that seizes him by the lapels, that leaves the rest of the world colorless. His wand’s a hot line of electricity in his palm. The dream of Thor’s axe rests on his shoulders like wings of fire.

“Ready?”

“Always,” says Remus.

...

They don’t enter by the front door. Instead, it’s a tunnel that opens into a sewer in a muggle alley. Remus slithers in before James, his lean form easier maneuvered inside, and James follows with a flickering Notice-me-not thrown over the grate.

The goblins sent them a note three days previously, telling them to come to the dragon’s lair. Sirius had told them not to use any of the normal dragon-detection tools; they did the job, but also tended to annoy the dragon. And if this was as James suspected, they’d need to keep the meeting as quiet as possible. No raging dragons. None of the classical dragon-detection techniques.

It’s lucky they have Remus.

Werewolves’ natural enemies aren’t vampires, for all the popular canon otherwise. Vampires' largest habitations are in areas that the werewolves don’t tend to inhabit, so they haven’t developed any instincts against them.

No. Werewolves and dragons- they’ve spent thousands of years battling over the same territory. Thor rode into battle on the backs of dragons, lightning flashing around him to kill the werewolves. There’s an instinctive, bone-deep hatred there.

Remus just has to go against the bristling reaction of his inner wolf to tell James the path to take.

It’s dangerous; of course it is. James keeps his hand tight on Remus’ shoulder, and doesn’t dare to breathe too deep.

...

Fotia apparates them to a meadow full of fireflowers. 

“Watch,” she commands, and raises her sword, and the air splits apart with flame brighter than the sun, blinding.

...

They make the rendezvous, just. Remus jerks his hand out and forces James backwards before they step out into the actual cavern, and they stop. Catch their breaths against the stone wall. They’ve done their bit now: they’ve walked into the mouth of the lion’s den. 

They can only hope, now, that it’ll work out.

We aren’t mice, though, thinks James, and grins at Remus. 

He’s regretted three things in his life. None of it has made him happier or kinder or softer.

He grins at Remus, and feels alive, and thinks: if this is how I die, I don’t regret it.

...

Fire dances around them. Fotia dances with it- leads it- guides it. The air chases it higher, damps it down. Lily tilts her head backwards. Watches it. Her hair whips around her, shining. The fireflowers burn brighter, and the air sings out. It is all held in control by Fotia Infirre: Fotia, whose hair sweeps behind her with the grace of black flame. Fotia, whose blade is brighter than anything Lily has seen in all her life.

The wind is so strong that Lily can scarcely see it all. She instead experiences it in glimpses, hidden by her own involuntary tears, by the twist of flame, by the blinding brilliance of Fotia’s sword.

Eventually, she gives in and closes her eyes. Breathes out the smoke and inhales the flame and swallows until the prickle of pain from all the fire has disappeared into the haze of heat.

...

“Wizard.”

“Goblin,” says James, rising to his feet. 

Remus has the better eyesight, which is why he’s hanging just a little back. It’s also why he’s closer to the dragon. Quick reflexes, awful blood- if they’re going to die in this mix-up, it’s going to be a glorious death. If they aren’t going to die- and James certainly doesn’t intend to- well. With any luck the dragon’ll be their ride out.

For a moment, the goblin doesn’t speak. Then he says, softly, “Mr. Potter.”

Warning prickles over James’ skin. “Who’s asking?”

“I am,” says the goblin. “You may call me Brakshal. I- we had not expected your response to be like this.”

“Then how’d you expect it?” asks James, genuinely curious.

The goblins sent him a letter asking for his attendance at a meeting in the dragon’s lair, five days’ hence. But James has learned that often, the things that people don’t do say their position even clearer than what they purposefully show off. The letter wasn’t on Gringotts cardstock. The delivery hadn’t asked for a response- however they got it into Grimmauld Place, the method had disappeared long before James saw the letter. This goblin in front of him looks ragged at the edges, like cheese just slightly softened by a few minutes in the sun. 

“You didn’t expect a response,” he says, half-guessing. He knows it to be wrong before he even finishes the sentence. “No, you didn’t think-”

“James,” murmurs Remus, and James shuts up immediately.

Remus sounds like he’s got a mouthful of iron nails. Careful, and desperate not to cut his tongue open, and worried beneath that like a roaring river. He’s looking at something that Brakshal is wearing, some shiny thing affixed to his chest.

“If your plan was to kill us-”

“James.”

“What!”

“When did he come after you?” Remus asks Brakshal, voice abruptly gentle. “Brakshal, right? When’d he come here?”

Brakshal lifts his head, just a little. “Last week,” he says, and it sounds-

Furious.

James stills. Looks at Remus. Back at Brakshal. Fuck, he thinks. They’d known there was a reason for the goblins to want help. To even ask for assistance. But nothing like this. 

“How many?” asks Remus, and he still sounds heartrendingly gentle.

“The Third and Fourth clans are gone. The First... has enough for us to maintain some of the mining operations. The Second is almost all alive.” He swallows. “So many. Too many.” Brakshal makes a grating sound, and Remus’ hand spasms on James’ shoulder. 

“The diamonds turned to rubies,” he hisses in James’ ear. “That’s the general translation. Blood on the- oh, Merlin, James-”

“Yeah,” James mutters back. “I get it. We’re fucked.”

"No-”

He turns back to Brakshal. “Why us, then?” he asks. “Dumbledore’s in Hogwarts. He’s got the ability to actually help.”

“Do you know what they called Potters?” asks Brakshal. 

James slides a look towards Remus, who’s looking just as puzzled. “No.”

The goblin smiles, sharp-toothed. He looks bitter. “Your ancestor brought our oldest shielding spells down and arranged an army around the entrance three centuries ago. Where Sheridan Potter walked, sunlight followed. And she did not stop until she entered Gringotts.”

“Master Brakshal-”

“Lord Potter,” says the goblin, flatly. “Goblins have long memories, written out in metal. And your wife brought light to our home, for the first time in three long centuries. Even the Dark Lord did not commit such sacrilege.”

James stiffens. He thinks he can hear the dragon stirring. His hand closes over his wand, hidden in his pocket. He considers, briefly, denying it; but Remus’ hand tightens again on his shoulder. And the warning in that grip gets James back on track.

“I can... get you an apology,” says James slowly. “I am indeed sorry that she committed such sacrilege in your halls.”

Brakshal’s face tightens. “If we’d wanted an apology, we would have demanded one. Or extracted one from your vaults. No- that doesn’t matter. It takes a year of babbling to match one breath of steel, Lord Potter. It is your actions that are important now.”

“What actions?” asks James.

“Your wife brought light to our home, but the Dark Lord brought death,” says Brakshal lowly. “He called our leaders into your ministry last week and demanded we hand over sovereignty, and when we refused- he killed us, and kept killing us, until he came to a goblin gutless enough to surrender.”

His voice is dispassionate, but the expression that James can make out in the dim light- it’s infuriated. 

No, thinks James. No, this is- how I felt. When I realized our home had been taken from us. When I realized how unsafe the world can be.

“He killed them,” says Brakshal. “One after the other, until all that remains of those Clans is those too weak or too afraid to stand up to him. Do you even know how long we’ve been independent? Do you even know what we have lost in this past week?”

“I can imagine,” says James softly.

“No, you cannot." Brakshal straightens, proud and stiff. “You do not even know what the Potters are called. But it matters not. Your wife did not know what she was doing when she came here, but she was doing as Potters have done for centuries. So I am here to barter with you. Give us his head. The Dark Lord’s head. Swear to us you will kill him, and you will do it soon, and offer us his head as a trophy. Swear to us that you will fight for that.”

“And in return?” asks Remus.

Brakshal’s teeth glint in the darkness. “There is a vault which I believe you might have some interest in.”

“A... vault?”

“I am a miner. That is what I shall do until my dying day. And sometimes, mines go perilously close to vaults. Particularly the deepest ones.” James looks into Brakshal’s eyes, and feels his mouth dry at the implications. “The ones with the highest security.”

Remus still sounds calm. Too calm for James’ taste. “That won’t go against any of your oaths?”

“I’m a miner,” repeats Brakshal. “Not a banker.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds: “The first vow we swear is to our family, then to clan, then to the nation. Only later do the oaths of loyalty to our leaders come. Too many of us have forgotten that- but it matters not. It will change. Once the Dark Lord has been defeated.”

James frowns, the words niggling in his head. Too many of us. “You didn’t tell me why you chose us.”

“We learned Lord and Lady Potter still lived when our blood records didn’t display your deaths,” says Brakshal slowly. “We only started to suspect when Lord Black changed his formal will to someone who wasn’t supposed to inherit anything. But then. We saw, those of us with eyes to see and brains to match, and we knew we had to act. 

“We call you Light-Bringer, Lord Potter. Where Sheridan Potter walked, light followed. Not just light but Light- that magic which has been in Britain for so many millennia. Where all of you walk, where you go, you bring Light with you. It is sunken into your blood.” Brakshal clicks his tongue. “And we have seen what the Dark does to us.”

“Fear can only take any agreement so far,” says Remus neutrally.

Brakshal inclines his head. “We have our own scryers,” he says quietly. “They don’t see enough, but sometimes... with the right questions... A Potter Lord with a Black Heredis at his side, a muggleborn wife, a werewolf at his side- you are young, all of you, but youth has never made anyone unworthy.” There is, beneath the anger and fear, a flash of something that makes James feel very small, and very proud, and deeply, entirely, confused at it. “The breath of air you promise- the change you bring by just existing- we can see it, for those of us with eyes. And we won’t let such a chance pass us by.”

“Light-bringer?” asks James, strangled. He considers reaching for Thor’s axe, but discards it. Thinks instead, and comes to another conclusion, one that sits in his belly like a cold stone: “We’re going to have to come back.”

“Lord Potter-”

“Give me a week,” says James urgently. “Give us a week. Keep your heads down. Don’t die. I can-” 

“James,” says Remus. James turns to him, and sees the pale, set look on Remus’ face. “Swear to him. Swear to him that you’ll give him You-Know-Who’s head. We’ll do an Unbreakable Vow, if you want.”

Brakshal recoils. “That won’t be necessary.”

Goblins don’t swear by their magic. They haven’t done so since wizards took their wands away and their magic went into stone and became nearly dormant. But no matter what else happens, their blood is magical. They don’t swear by what they cannot have; they swear by-

“It won’t,” agrees James. “A Blood Vow, then?”

Brakshal stares. So does Remus. 

Blood Vows are old magic. The Unbreakable Vow kills people who break it by turning their own magic against themselves. The old stories say they were developed to make Blood Vows more civilized. 

Because Blood Vows don’t just kill oathbreakers. They turn their very blood to liquid metal. And they do it slowly.

It’s a painful death.

It’s also easier to swear. No third parties necessary; just two people and a bowl. James thinks back to old history lessons in his family home, and transfigures a copper bowl out of a piece of stone. Lays it on the earth, and kneels over it. 

“Lord Potter,” whispers Brakshal.

James presses his wand to the inside of his elbow. Two days previously, he saw the white, winding scar on Sirius’ elbow. It feels right to let it match.

“I will work to kill the Dark Lord,” he says. “I will do it until either he or I is dead. And when he dies, I will give you, Brakshal of Gringotts, his head, as bloodprice for the grief he has rent among you and yours. I swear thus, by the iron in my veins.”

He runs his wand down, and feels the burn of split skin as he does. James lets it puddle into the bowl, unflinching. Remus hisses out but doesn’t react beyond it. Brakshal waits until the bowl is half-full, then he reaches out and picks it up. Tips it back and swallows.

“May the iron swallow you if you break it,” he croaks. 

James vanishes the bowl and stands. He sways. Too much blood loss- but for a worthy cause, he thinks dryly, and settles with Remus’ hand pressed up against his spine. Brakshal looks away, then back. Slowly, he holds out a hand for James, and there is something shining in the middle of his palm, dark but glittering.

“Take it,” he says. “It is a Portkey to here. I have no wish for you to come across anyone else before we finish our bargain- this will bring you here, to this corridor.”

Remus huffs out a laugh. “I knew you’d gone rogue.”

“We all do what must be done.” Brakshal shrugs. “Goblins do not like dragons either. Only madmen would come this close to one without reason. And to defeat a Dark Lord- one who holds the government, one on the very precipice of complete victory- you need madmen.” 

“So it was a test.”

“You passed.”

“But you can promise us the vault?” asks James.

Brakshal smiles, for the first time since James has met him. 

“Yes,” he says, so unshakeable it sounds like all of Gringotts could fall apart around him and he’d still know the answer. 

There is another vow here, now; one that James could accept, one that sings out like glittering strands. He only bows his head. Steps back, and feels Remus sling a warm arm around his waist, and lets the Portkey’s magic gather them back to outside Gringotts.

“One week,” he says, firmly, before it all become a blur.

...

Fotia stops, and the world stops with her.

Lily breathes out what feels like her first full breath in too long. Andromeda looks almost unaffected, but Sirius is white-faced and his shoulders are hunched about up to his ears. The flame Fotia’d harnessed fades into the air without any of her magic supporting it, and what remains are four stones. They’re clear as crystals, save for when Lily hefts one and holds it up to the sky: they shine, glittering sparks of red and white and a thousand other shades seen in flame and air.

“It’s done, then,” she breathes. Her voice sounds strange to her own ears.

Fotia inclines her head. Her hair looks further tangled; her eyes glitter a shade too bright. 

“Use it well,” she says, and her voice is as stiff as it’s been ever since Lily first met her. She turns to Sirius. “Our business is at an end, Black. My family’s and yours. If you ever call for me again-”

“-you won’t answer,” finishes Sirius. “I understand.”

“Good,” says Fotia, and spins on her heel, cracking away.

Andromeda immediately moves to support Sirius, who sags as soon as Fotia disappears. The sickly edge to his skin makes him look small; Lily gathers the crystals carefully and waves wordlessly for Andromeda to side-apparate Sirius back to Grimmauld Place. 

Andromeda nods. She disapparates. And then there’s nothing around Lily but the silent, glittering feel of rich, old magic ringing through the air. 

She lets herself marvel at it.

She lets herself want it. Lily loves this feeling; craves this history, this weight and tradition and power. It isn’t her inheritance, but it’s what she’s built her life around. Wards. Rituals. The oldest kind, made of sheer want and desire and the curve of a blade.

She lets herself revel in it for one breath longer, and then she apparates away.

...

“Remus, could you come to the library with me?”

Remus jerks his head up, startled. So does James, eyes narrowing on Lily. She raises her eyebrows back. 

“Hiding things?” asks James.

“Your birthday present,” says Lily sweetly. James scoffs, and she rolls her eyes. “There’s a lunar aspect I read about that can stabilize the runic array. I thought I’d get Remus’ advice on it, seeing as he’s been mildly obsessed with astronomy since first year.”

“Mildly obsessed is an exaggeration,” mutters James.

“Not everything has to do with you, love,” says Lily, and leans down to press a kiss to his hair before meeting Remus’ gaze and nodding to the door.

A little more excited now, Remus follows Lily to the library. He enters it for the first time since she remodeled it- the increase in light does wonders for reducing the gothic edges the Blacks had spent years instituting, and Remus thinks briefly about how much Walburga Black would’ve hated it. 

Then there’s a sharp feeling across the back of his neck, and Remus turns, predatory instincts flaring, wand sliding into his palm.

Lily has her wand up. The ward she’s just constructed glows around them, gold and bright as honey. Remus hisses out through his teeth, and Lily lowers her wand slowly, eyes gleaming.

“This is about James,” she says.

Resignation sweeps over Remus’ head, mixed liberally with disappointment. But he looks at Lily, and he sighs, and he wishes he could be surprised about it.

...

Remus pauses. He looks so tired. Lily can understand; she feels the same way. It’s such a surprising realization: fear is exhausting, more than it is terrifying. When she and James went into hiding a year and a half ago, it’d been exciting, up until it wasn’t. When Voldemort came to their home- Lily’s never been quite so frightened. She’s never known this kind of high-level, mind-numbing terror for such a long time, and she suspects that it’s taking its toll on all of them.

After this, she promises herself, and allows herself to think about that idea- surviving to the end, surviving past the end- we’ll go somewhere else. Somewhere warm. And learn to relax.

He’s still waiting, though. Remus’ hair is all but bristling with latent, suppressed aggression. Lily forces herself to keep herself calm, to keep her spine loose and her gaze steady.

“He’s gotten reckless,” she says quietly. 

“He was always reckless.”

“Not like this,” says Lily. 

She remembers the fear she’d felt when James told her about the Blood Vow. These are not risks they can afford, and James doesn’t understand. Lily’s not a stranger to risks such as those; she’s taken her fair share, walked straight into traps and trusted in the sharp edge of her wand and the fury in her gut to carry her out. But she hasn’t trusted in strangers to keep her alive before. She hasn’t trusted goblins who are known for double-crossing and distrust of wizards. She isn’t stupid enough to try to win a war this way.

“Tell me I’m imagining it,” she says lowly, the tension hiking up in her voice. “Tell me I’m imagining this, and I’ll leave it alone. Believe me, Remus, I’ve got more than enough on my plate to deal with.”

Remus’ eyes look away, one half-flick to the side, and Lily has her answer.

She reaches out and brushes a finger gently over the inside of his wrist. Gentleness is Remus’ downfall, as it is Sirius’, though Remus isn’t far gone enough to consider any kindnesses as apologies. It hones him instead- makes him focus, reminds him of all that they’ve sacrificed, puts to mind all that they’ve yet to lose.

“You’re not,” he says hoarsely. “Not. You know. Entirely.”

“A vow,” says Lily, and can scarcely keep the shrill note of terror out of her voice. “A Blood Vow! To a goblin!”

“Well,” Remus points out. “He’s already fighting for it. Defeating You-Know-Who, I mean. Doesn’t make it worse than- Sirius swearing to his grandfather, not-”

“Except his grandfather was fucking holding Sirius over a cliff!” says Lily, drawing away and grabbing at the back of the settee near her, feeling for the sharp edges and holding on tight. She feels adrift these days, like she’s barely surviving each wave cresting over her head before the next one carries stinging salt into her eyes, into her lungs. Lily breathes in, and moderates her voice as best she can. “And the only thing James seems to know to deal with cliffs is to throw himself off of them.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It is completely fair, and you know it,” says Lily tiredly. “I don’t care. That axe- it’s making him worse. And I can’t tell him to calm down, or to not use it, or to stay away from the front lines of this fucking war. Not while we’re the de facto leaders. Not while Harry needs us.”

Remus sags, and slides into the chair opposite her. “So what do you need from me?”

“I need you to keep him alive.”

“I’m not going to let him die!”

“Good,” says Lily savagely, and relishes in the aborted flinch across Remus’ shoulders. “Stick with him. That’s what you do, better than any of us.” 

It’s true; Remus is brilliant at quickfire volleys while James has the regimented discipline of an auror. They’ve taken down more than their fair share of Death Eaters. And James suffers the same thing most of the male Order members are afflicted with: they keep Lily away from the worst of the battle without any conscious thought, while running into the thick of it themselves. She won’t be there when James gets caught in a battle, and she’s willing to bet that Sirius won’t be there either. Not when Sirius has enough charisma to lead his own front of the war.

Lily knows this. 

Remus knows this.

Plan for what you can, thinks Lily, dryly amused. Screw what you cannot.

“And when you think he’s taken on too much,” she whispers, leaning forward, “send him to safety.”

Remus stares at the stone Lily’s pressed into his hand. It’s a fascinating color- black, or at least a very dark green, with flecks of gold and glittering blue turning it iridescent. A small stone, but it thrums with power.

“What is this?”

“A portkey.” Lily hesitates. “Well. Sort of.”

Remus looks up at her, and there’s faint amusement in his eyes. “What is it?” he repeats.

“I took it from the ring James destroyed,” Lily tells him. Reaches out and flips it over, and shows him the symbol carved on the other side: a bisected triangle with an inscribed circle. “There’s something there about Hallows if you research the symbol, but I don’t think it matters. There was latent magic in the stone, and James’ lightning supercharged it. In a way. And the piece of soul left in there? Disintegrated inside the stone.”

“So you harnessed it,” murmurs Remus.

“It’ll break through any portkey ward you can imagine. Including Hogwarts. Once, and only for him, but. Once should be enough. Take him straight to a small cottage in Cornwall.”

“And you’re giving it to me?”

“James won’t use it,” says Lily. “Have you met him? He’ll stay until all of us are dead or worse, and won’t once think of himself.”

She won’t survive losing him. She can lose everything else, all else, but not this. Not James. 

It’s her line in the sand.

(When Lily first signed up to the Order, Dorcas Meadowes had taken her aside. Pressed a hand to her shoulder. Said, softly, “They’ll give you information on surviving Death Eater prisons next week.”

“I,” Lily had replied. “Um. Okay?”

“What you need to know about that,” said Dorcas, “is that it’s done with purebloods in mind. Pureblood men. It won’t help you.”

Lily had looked up at Dorcas’ haunted eyes, at Dorcas’ firmed lips, her low-lying, immoveable stance. “Oh,” she’d said. “What should it say then?”

Something had twitched in Dorcas’ face. It haunts Lily even now, that instinctive, unsuppressable reflex, like a fish flopping on the ground, airless and desperate.

She’d said, hand bruising on Lily’s shoulder: “Don’t get caught. And if you do: die, first. Because you aren’t worth anything to them at all, and they know it, and you aren’t going to trust in their mercy.” She hadn’t looked directly at Lily but through her, and her gaze had burned like ants’ venom. “They aren’t going to give you any.”

“If it’s so dangerous- if I’m so fucking small- why does it-”

“Matter?” Dorcas stepped away. “I’m here ‘cause I’m done, girl. With their idiocy. With their cruelty. We survive on the dregs of their society, where they’ve got it all fucking made, and we’re glad for it because it’s magical. Well. Fuck that. If they want to silence you, make them fight for it. If they want to kill you, make them fucking die first.”

She’d died two years later, because Voldemort burned down an orphanage near Islington and she’d chased after him instead of waiting for backup. Dorcas Meadowes died that night with her wand in hand, her eyes lifted to the sky, and, Lily was certain, of the empty belladonna vial she’d found in her robes, not at Voldemort’s hand. No matter how many people told her otherwise.

Dorcas’ line in the sand killed her.

And now, years later, almost too late, Lily’s found hers.)

“He won’t forgive you,” says Remus softly. “He won’t forgive us.”

James had fucked her that night, and he’d thought the bruises left on her shoulder were of his making. Lily hadn’t told him they came from Dorcas. Lily’d accepted his kisses, his apologies, and she’d shut her eyes tight against the memory of a muggleborn witch desperate to keep another from believing in a better world than was out there.

“I don’t care,” replies Lily. “I’d rather he hate me than die because of me. And I know you feel the same.”

The ugly part of herself and Remus, where they’d both rather die for their love than live against it. They’re selfish at their cores, harsh in the places where brightness sits in James and Sirius. They’re the same, the two of them, the werewolf and the muggleborn. The prefect and the Head Girl. The people who did not choose this war, but chose to fight in it.

They know, intrinsically, what’s at stake here.

“Our secret,” sighs Remus.

Lily reaches out and closes her palm over his. Holds him tight. 

“Keep him safe,” she says, and orders, and weaves hope into reality.

...

“You’re certain?”

“Everything’s ready,” agrees Lily. 

Sirius nods. James rolls his shoulders. Remus smiles, sharp and thin as a rapier. 

Lily inclines her head. “Keep the timers at the ready. Everything has to be perfectly coordinated. And if it doesn’t work... apparate away. Fast.”

“Before it all explodes,” says Sirius.

James lets out a sharp bark of laughter, and nods. Lily grins. Remus reaches out, and they hold each other, all four of them. Alone and together, as it’s been since Voldemort broke their home. Leaning on each other to survive to morning. They’ve got a chance to deal a blow to Voldemort, and by all the gods James is going to take it.

“Good luck,” says James, and they back away from each other, and apparate out to their respective places.

...

Sirius’ element is water, on account of his familial inheritance. The location for his ritual is a tiny rock in the middle of the Channel Islands, just barely large enough that he doesn’t need to worry about slipping off of it. The waves keep washing over his boots; he hisses out when the salt tries to cake on the dragonskin etchings. 

Slowly, he loops out the weighty crystal Fotia crafted. There’s five of them now: one to each of them, and one to ground the entire ritual. There’s careful runes carved on these crystals made by Lily’s hands. They depress against his skin. 

“Here goes nothing,” Sirius mutters, and lets his magic flow out into the waves washing around him.

...

Remus’ element is earth, also on account of his family inheritance. He’s in a hollow made by a tree’s roots, the earth damp and breathing as it surrounds him. 

“Fucking Suffolk,” he grits out, wiping the streak of mud off his forehead.

The crystal is warm and vibrating very gently in his palm. Remus focuses hard on it, pushes his magic, and the earth rises to his call like a blanket pulled by his fingers.

...

James’ element is the air, because he loves flying more than any of them. 

He’s shivering, frosted over and wind howling, on the top of a mountain somewhere in the Hebrides. Then he reaches for the crystal and grips it tight, and lets his magic out in an uncontrolled wash instead of the sharp edges of wand-magic, and feels the wind sing above his head.

...

Lily’s in Scotland.

Her element is flame, because she is a Gryffindor, because she is of flame, because she has a fire blazing somewhere deep in her ribs of fear and fury and love hot enough to burn the world down. The crystal is shining in her hands like a star. Her hair dances in the wind, and she releases the dam on her magic, and flame winks into being around her like a thousand birds with wings afire.

...

It’s twilight. Remus hears the timer go, and he pushes his magic, the earth’s magic, into the crystal. 

As full as full can be, he thinks, and hears, and says, and wishes. As full as full, and no further. The earth is mine and I am hers, and this is what I wish.

...

It’s twilight. 

James’ wind comes at the crook of his fingers. Wraps around the crystal. Sinks in. 

Until you’re about to burst, he thinks, and hears, and says, and wishes. Until then, and not one more breath. You come when I call, and this is what I demand.

...

It’s twilight. Lily’s flame is hot around her like a volcano on the cusp of exploding. Magma to lava. In to out. The crystal shines, brighter and brighter still.

Long enough to burn the impurity away, she thinks, and hears, and says, and wishes. Long enough, and no longer. Do as I say, and this is what I want.

...

It’s twilight, and Sirius is surrounded by water.

Brimming with it, he thinks, and hears, and says, and wishes. So that you’re brimming with this power, but not one drop more. Let it be so, for this is what I need.

...

It’s just past twilight, and they see the crystals start to shake. They can see the vibrations. They can something growing in the middle, a vision so lovely it brands itself into their minds. It cannot be unseen.

(Magic always wishes to grow, and they’ve given it the best possible place to grow. But they need the magic to obey, for any other kind of magic is dangerous. Is cruel, and cold, and will grow deadly if left unchecked.)

They wait.

This must be done together. All at once, or not at all. They must trust, and have faith. 

And when the time comes, they must break the most beautiful thing their minds can imagine.

To complete the ritual, they must destroy it.

...

The sky is dark, and Remus’ fingers are twitching. He cannot look away, and he cannot bear to let the magic drop away either. He sees something lovely, warm, softer than any dream and gentle as a misting rain. What he can never have.

Sunlight. Laughter. Warmth.

Sirius’ head thrown back. The lines of his neck. The dip of his collarbone, down and then up, like the faintest half of an infinity symbol. His skin. 

His rage.

The vision turns to fire, and Remus’ fingers curl into fists, and the earth swallows the crystal whole.

...

The moon shines down on Lily, and her gaze is fractured by the vision of something lovely, the tears in her eyes standing out. She sees herself, standing above all others, bright and beautiful and adored.

So loved.

So lonely.

So lost.

The vision washes away, and she breathes out fire that chars the crystal to ash.

...

Sirius’ ancestors smile at him from the distant stars. He thinks he can hear Regulus. It’s all he sees in the crystal: family, all the families he’s had, all the families he’s wanted, all the families he’s never thought to hope for and has received.

James, and Lily, and Remus-

Remus-

Their hands on his back, their fists on his lapels, their love, their grief, their kindness, their fear, their strength, strength, strength-

The image blows into dust. Sirius cries out, and the ocean crashes down on him, on the crystal, drowns them both.

...

James is close enough to touch the stars, and all he can see is what he’s lost in the world. Harry, leaping in a field, unafraid. Lily, laughing without worrylines carved into her face. Sirius and Remus and the Order and the Wizarding World and the whole damn universe-

Unafraid. Bright. 

His father’s voice: start small, Jimmy, and build your way up. 

A hand sweeping up, and showing him Potter Manor. All the four hundred floors, all the clouds wrapping around the highest levels. This is what you are and this is what you have and this is what you can become. Responsibility and awe, intertwined. Fear and determination. 

The clasp of Lily’s hand on his. The warmth of Harry’s sleeping blankets. Sirius’ bright eyes. Remus’ tea.

Start small, and shift the world in ways nobody realizes until long past you’ve finished. 

Start small and build your way up.

The image disappears. James grins up at the sky, tears streaming down his face, and yells as loud as he can.

The wind howls in response. It grabs his crystal straight out of his palms and hurls it against the mountainside, and he watches it shatter into a thousand pieces of glittering glass.

He feels the magic of the ritual snap into place like a taut rope just beyond his reach, and slips to his knees with mountan-air jagged and freezing in his lungs.

...

They’re draped over pieces of furniture, too tired to move. Andromeda’s said she’ll come in the morning to feed them some potions and get them up and running again, but for now it’s just the four of them, tired and soft and together in a dark room in Grimmauld Place.

Finally, Sirius drags himself upright and moves to the map of Britain, which contains the results of whatever they’ve done with the ritual. The fifth crystal is the focal point of the entire thing, and it’s projecting its magic onto the map Lily’d put up. He squints at the sheet, and then he swallows, hard, stumbling back.

“You recognize it?” asks Lily.

“One’s in Gringotts,” he says. “Another’s in Hogwarts.”

They’d planned for that.  Those two places make sense. But they don’t have time to research Voldemort’s history, to make a list of where he might have put all of his other horcruxes. They don’t even know how many horcruxes there are.

Sirius feels Remus’ hand on his wrist, his breath on his shoulder as he steps up beside him to peer at the map.

“That’s- Wiltshire,” says Remus.

“Wiltshire?” asks Lily, bewildered. “What’s in fucking Wiltshire?”

Sirius drops his face to his hands. Exhales. Rises. “Malfoy Manor,” he says. Turns, and meets James’ bruised eyes, Lily’s exhausted face. Remus’ steadfast gaze. Doesn’t look away. “Malfoy Manor is there. Not another Wizarding community in sight. I’ll bet you anything- it’s in that house.”

“Andromeda’s not going to like that,” says Remus.

Sirius huffs a laugh.

Andy wants to save her sister? Her sister’s been harboring a part of Voldemort’s soul in her home for Merlin knows how long. It’s the Black tragedy, isn’t it, to have everything they’ve ever wanted and losing it all to circumstances just an inch out of reach. The farce of it. The terrible, mocking tragedy.

Fuck this, thinks Sirius, and is a very mature adult as he walks away without cursing anything at all.

[cleverwordsandsadstories]

Rig Rundown/Studio Tour

Hey dudes, been a real long time since I did a walk through of my music rooms with you, figured it would be a good time to give you one of those. 

So where to start, well these are my three main boys,up on the wall from right to left, my tele, an xavier thinline, it sounds like santana, its huge sounding. it stays in tune super well, and it has a bridge pickup that isnt too bright or too barky, love it. My sisters jazz bass which I have been “barrowing” for like, 6 years. its perfect, I have another bass, a yamaha 5 string fretless, that I barely use and will likely sell, because this jazz bass just does everything so well and I dont have to eq it, or reamp it, its direct, with compression, nothing else. and lastly, my signature strat, special switching system, and a 5 position mid boost preamp and a hipshot b bender, I love this guitar, its perfection. 

below them, my blue strat, I have the trem set floating and the strings are old and really dark sounding. I might switch it to flat wounds because the pickups in it are really bright, and with darker strings this guitar sounds so cool and surfy through a clean amp with a ton of spring reverb. love it. and then there is my washburn, its a floyd rose guitar. I wanted to be joe satriani growing up, but the older Ive gotten, and the more Ive played, ive realized that isnt me. an old fender trem, and a set of locking tuners is good enough for most people, floyd roses just dont sound right to me. they lack a certain character. and full humbucker guitars arent my thing either, as soon as I switched back to a strat from my tele...man, it was eye opening, single coils with a mid boost > humbuckers with a coil tap any day. I am thinking about switching the humbuckers out for p90s with that mid boost circuit in it, or maybe even just a booster. 

I do recognize that my main guitars all have humbuckers in the bridge position, a lot of bridge single coils lack a thickness to them, the only single coil bridge pups I have ever liked were tele pickups. but its easier to just drop a humbucker in there or leave one in there than try to shove a tele pup in there. 

NEXT

my acoustics, my first act, my douglas, and my ovation. My first act was my second guitar ever, I got it in 2004? the pickup in it is from a harmony solid body from the early 80s, it is scarred six ways from sunday, it was my main live guitar for about ten years. I love this guitar, it sounds better than almost every electric guitar I have ever heard. if it wasnt for the fact it was so hard to ground and was so noisy, I would use this guitar for EVERYTHING. The Douglas was a graduation present from a customer at the music store I used to work at, it sounds like wes montgomery, its so fat man. and when you run it through my marshall and overdrive it, its so round and warm, its perfection. lastly is my ovation, its a 76 balladeer. it didnt come with a pickup which is disappointing, but I use a gold foil sound hole pickup with it that works really well. these three guitars are usually mic’d with that sweet audio technica at2020, and then I also run it through my amps on a cleanish setting, mix those in box, it sounds amazing. 

NEXT

heres my pedalboard, and also my main amp....and yes, that is a shelving unit, and my pedals are zip tied to it. The fender mustang floor is a life saver, I listened to it A/B’d with amps in the store I used to work at, and they were so true and lifelike, as good as a line 6? no, but this was like 500 dollars cheaper when I factored in my discount. great marshall tone, great bassman, great champ, all of the pedal sounds are great. and I can record at 4am and not get evicted. from left to right. 

behringer compressor. very smooth Dynacomp clone, it it so smooth, almost like an orange squeezer, but this thing sounds like country. 

behringer pitch shifter/harmonizer I use it to do two things, 3rd harmonies, so if im feeling lazy and dont want to double track a guitar, I can just do this and there it is. and i use it for full step bends, when you combine it with the b bender, you can really emulate a steel guitar

Electroharmonix LPB-1. my booster of choice, I prefer this so much in front of a dirty amp to something like a tube screamer. get an amp sorta dirty, roll your volume down to get a clean sound, and click the boost to get distortion. 

behringer hellbabe wah. optical, spring powered wah. very narrow Q, adjustable range, I use wah a lot, but I dont like it to have a really wide sweep like how crybabys do, this boy works so well.

also I know thats a lot of behringer, but guess what. sold pedals for 6 years, I have had dozens of different brands on my board, from vox’s joe satriani pedals, sans amp pedals, JHS dirt boxes, three or four seperate chorus’s, a few different flavors of delay, but I stuck with the ones I have, because they sound great....and because their resale value was low enough that I couldnt justify selling them to buy other pedals. plus they just sound good, yea theyre plastic but fuck you, they sound so good. 

NEXT

while I do mainly use a fender mustang to record, I have slowly been switching back to using a real amp. MY AMP. its a Marshall Valvestate 100 Watt head, into a Bugera version 1 2x12 cabinet, so I dont have those harsh turbosound speakers in it. I have changed the tube out in the head for a ruby tube like 3 years ago, its holding strong so power to those dudes. I have the amp set really loud (more on that soon) but the gain set really low, if a marshall running almost flat out with the gain pretty low worked for ACDC it will work for me. so about me running a 100 watt head flat out in an apartment, well you might have noticed that little boy up there

that bugera power soak is a life saver. my amp sounds so warm and chewy, and I never was able to get that tone from this amp before I got it. the valve state has a tube preamp, and a solid state power amp, so the idea is, if you run it low, it should sound about the same as it does full out. it doesnt, I think the power amp section definitely plays a smaller role but it does still play a role. I have the amp set to like 7/10, because above that I definitely get some suck to the sound, where the volume drops a little bit when you hit it really hard, and below that it is a little grainy sounding, theres just this high end sort of fizz, and the amp is a bit too dynamic at low volumes, if you hit it really hard it just gets too loud compared to when you play quiet. the compression I get from running it that loud through the soak just leads to such a solid sound. All of my youtube videos for the last few weeks are this marshall, but there is one last part to my sound. 

a first act delay pedal. this dude is a bucket brigade delay, that has a fault that drops the volume just a little bit when its on, and when you set the delay length reallly long, it gets really atmostpheric, and when this and the spring reverb in the amp start playing with eachother, its lush, its big. I put this in the effects loop and just this, nothing else. this, in conjunction with the soak, keeps my volume managable but also thick sounding. 

so there it is my dudes. Hope you got something from reading all this, cause I love talking about guitar gear so much more than you can imagine. if working at music stores didnt pay so fucking bad, this is all I would ever do. 

[last-flight-of-fancy]

fatedeniedhope replied to your post “* sees people confused over various kh plot points * * is not people i...”

I would like yo know a bit. Only play kh 1 and chain of memories and half way to kh 2

oh boy there is a *lot* to cover here then!

I don’t mean that to sound intimidating, kh just has a tendency for long, sprawling interconnected plots (many of which are still unresolved even now)

i am also doing this entirely by memory, so if i’ve skimmed something i shouldn’t have its because my brain has stopped registering it as important; feel free to ask for clarification, i wrote this in one sitting because i was avoiding doing laundry XD

putting a cut because i am overviewing a Lot of game here and tbh there’s still a lot of stuff i am skimming or skipping entirely. I’m just trying to hit the highlights.

i don’t know where you stopped in 2, so i’m just gonna give a brief overview

-there is a boy named roxas

-he’s being hunted by these strangers called nobody’s

-things get weird

-turns out he’s sora’s nobody, as nobody’s are created when a person is turned into a heartless (which sora did during kh1)

-roxas returns to sora (”looks like my summer vacation is.. over...” whoops there goes my heart) and normal sora gameplay resumes.

-DIDNEY WORLDS

-turns out everyone forgot sora for a year bc of what happened in chain of memories (and also 358/2. dont worry about that yet we’ll get there). kairi sends out a bottle to “the boy she can’t remember” trying to call him home. (yes this is important)

-organization 13 (all what? eight of them left?) pops up, xemnas is cryptic, and they say their goal is to recreate kingdom hearts via sora killing heartless, since apparently only killing heartless with a keyblade sends the trapped hearts to Kingdom Hearts

      -this version of the tale persists through 358 as well. it’s.. half right.

-bla bla bla, shenanigans. there’s ansem (the boss from kh1) and a guy named diz. That isn’t who either of them actually are. It’s actually Riku (who tapped too far into the darkness trying to capture roxas for the whole twilight town scenario at the beginning of the game, thus altering his appearance to look like the guy who posessed him for a bit) and THE ACTUAL ANSEM (ie, the ruler(?) of radient garden before it fell, and the guy heartless ansem stole his name from.

-anyways

-sora goes off searching for riku, bc as far as he knows, he’s still lost out in the darkness.

-he’s not, he’s fine, but he’s super embarrassed about the whole ‘looking like the enemy’ thing and won’t let sora find him.

-sora casually murders most of the remaining organization members (only most of whom shot first)

-this continues on until axel attempts to kidnap kairi, who ends up in twilight town for a bit hanging out with the hayner/pence/ollete trio, before being slightly more successfully kidnapped a second time.

-and then she gets kidnapped again by saix. Axel apologises to sora over this. in his defence, he’s pretty desperate at this point (he just wants his friend(s) back)

-sora storms The World That Never Was, kairi is rescued by Namine.

-the trio finally meets up (namine disapeared at some point? yknow, i actually dont recall what happened to her in between these scenes), sora and kairi share a slightly awkward but sweet hug, and after a moments trepidation over ‘Ansem’, kairi tells/shows him its riku, at which point sora bursts into tears.

-i ship a lot of ot3′s, but sorikai is the OG ot3

-anyways

-namine and roxas have a very symbolic moment refusing with their Other’s, Namine opens a portal back to destiny islands so they can go home.

-everyone except sora and riku make it through, and thus commences several final fantasy style boss fights

-they win, of course, riku’s injured in the line of battle, and they limp out, having traversed several realms during the course of this battle, they’re now trapped on a beach in the realm of darkness. it’s the same beach everyone else seems to end up on in this place. There is only one beach in the RoD apparently

-they stay there a while, and then they pick up a message in a bottle; it’s from kairi, “to the boy she can’t remember”

-Feelings make a door to the light open, and sora and riku fall like actual comets from the sky and everybody’s reunited and happy. huzzah!

-.... well for a while anyways.

-should i get into the whole xemnas/xehanort/ansem thing here?

-eh

-okay so

-lets swing back into Birth By Sleep for a bit

-(im sorry if kh can’t hit any of its plot points in order i think its fair neither do i)

-BBS takes place roughly nine years prior to kh1, with the exception of bbs’s prologue, which i would estimate as being an additional four years prior to that

-during said prologue, we meet Master Xehanort, an incredibly old dude with brown skin, gold eyes, and a white beard. even newcomers to the series will probably recognise that only one type of person gets those colours in these games.

-we also meet baby Ventus, Xehanorts apprentice. He looks exactly like Roxas.

-shenanigans happen, Xehanort splits Ven’s heart in two, creating Vanitas, who is Ventus’s darkness.

-Vanitas’ whole shtick is he wants to be reunited with Ventus, ostensibly to create the X-blade (yes it’s pronounced exactly the same as ‘keyblade’ and yes, every single kh fan ive ever talked to has found this annoying af)

-unfortunately being split in two like that puts ven in a coma, and xehanort takes the unresponiseve body to destiny islands to dump it like unwanted ravioli

-luckily for ven, “a brand new hear” hears his hurt and reaches out to help, filling out the gaps left in his and allowing him to start recovering

-the heart is sora

-actual, literal baby sora reaching out to help people before he can even walk yet. 

-the game never spells this out explicitly, which makes it an easy plot point to miss if you aren’t paying attention

-ven doesn’t recover immidietly though, and xehanort sends him to live with his old friend Master Eraqus and his two teenage apprentices, Aqua and Terra

-here’s where we time skip, ventus is fully recovered, terra and aqua are young adults and about to take their Mark Of Mastery exams for becoming keyblade masters.

-Terra fails because he has darkness in his heart and also xehanort rigged it against him

-aqua passes and becomes a master. I love her very much.

-terra journey’s out to try and figure out where the darkness comes from

-vanitas taunts ven saying terra’s leaving him bc ven’s stupid or something and ven panics and chases after him (he’s like 14 and has a bit of a hero worship thing, stupid decisions are par for the course)

-eraqus sends aqua out to both spy on terra (he words it nicer but thats the gist of it), which aqua doesn’t particularly like but trusts her masters judgement and does it, and bring ventus home, which she is more on board with

-the biggest tragedy in bbs is that no one talks to each other

-stuff happens, they learn some stuff, aqua’s route has So Many Lesbian Feels with every single princess she runs into it brings me great delight

-Ventus learns the whole ‘fight your darkness to become the X-blade’ plot, eraqus learns this too and tries to kill ven. Terra busts in at the last moment and saves ven, at this point using his dark powers fully.

-#terrawasright

-eraqus dies, which i don’t think terra fully intended to do (he just wanted to save ven) and if you recall the scene in kh1 where kairi catches a falling sora only for him to burst into a bunch of floating glitter? imagine that but with two grown men

-aqua’s just trying to figure out whats going on. she gets to meet kairi (saves her from some heartless and then puts a charm on her necklace to keep her safe) and then meets Mickey, who will be our future duex ex machina

-they all meet for the final battle.

-ven asks his friends to murder him

-no one does that

-what the fuck ven

-they fight, and a lot of stuff sorta happens at the same time

-1: terra fights xehanort, who has essentially been spending the whole game prepping terra to be his next host. xehanort is a body snatcher confirmed. xehanort wins, terra becomes the fanon-named terranort.

-2: ventus fights vanitas. vanitas reveals his face, and he looks exactly like a colour swapped version of sora. (also voiced by the same voice actor! it’s actually surprsingly difficult to notice this if you don’t have some kind of clue already because haley joel osment does and *amazing* job). ventus wins, the X-blade is not forged, but as a lot of this battle takes place in his heart, the effects are bad and ven falls into a coma (he reaches out once more, and another hearts answers. “you can stay here a while, I don’t mind” says the other heart. yes its fucking sora again. too good, too pure)

-3: aqua gets knocked out to start with, but then she fights vanitas controlling ventus’ body, which eventually gets sorted out. terra’s dissapeared at this point, and she takes a comatose ven and hides him in the land of departure, which she uses a secret mechanism to turn into Castle Oblivion (and thus, impossible to navigate  without her key)

-aqua goes to hunt down terra(nort), and finds him in radiant garden. they fight, aqua wins, but when he begins to sink into the darkness she sacrifices herself to save him (which is how he ends up as one of ansem’s apprentices and mostly without any memories)

-aqua will spend the next ten years in the realm of darkness

-bbs is such a goddam tragedy

-OKAY

-time to fast forward

-so sora and ven are connected, which is why vanitas and roxas look the way they do, which brings us to

-the case of xion

-and 358/2

-the worst game to play but my absolute favourite in terms of slow-burn pacing and emotionally investing you in the characters

-this game pretty much just deals with the year sora spent asleep, and the kids time in the organization.

-roxas wakes up with no memories, is inducted into the org, and told “kill heartless with your keyblade”. He’s more or less a zombie at first, and accepts this without question.

-a week later, a new member is introduced, named Xion, who also has a keyblade, and is also a zombie with no memories at first

-Axel, the org’s assassin, is basically told to babysit them both

-he’s not really into it at first, but those natural Big Brother instincts kick in Hard about five minutes later and from that point on he’s mostly just trying to keep them both alive.

-oh, also Lea, Axel’s somebody, met Ventus in bbs, so that was probably a little weird for him.

-as the game goes on and these kids essentially learn how to human and try to figure out what makes them different, the Big Plots stew in the background. Axel and Saix have some kind of plan that Axel apparently isn’t sticking to, and Axel questions his loyalties more as the game goes on and circumstances force him to choose between two kids Who Did Nothing Wrong, and his oldest friend.

-Xion learns they are a replica, a la Repliku, created as a backup to roxas if he could not fulfil his duty in creating kingdom hearts. their connection with roxas, and through him sora, has the unintended side effect of flitering memories and feelings into and through Xion.

-this is why putting sora back together takes so long

-Xion, between the pressure of being an org member in general, and the mental load from being caught between three+ people in a very literal sense, has a breakdown. Riku finds them, and despite a pretty rocky start between them, helps them through it.

-Xion leaves at two different points, the first time, Axel brings them back. “please don’t hold back, Axel. Promise.” “Everyone always thinks they’re right”

-excuse me i have to lay down again after thinking about how emotionally wrought this scene is.

-(the alternative is he has to kill them. he does everything he can to avoid that, but it’s clearly approaching an unsustainable situation; the org is running out of patience for dealing with the ‘clearly defective replica’, xion doesnt feel this situation is right, and axel just wants to keep everyone alive.

-yes typing ‘clearly defective replica’ physically hurt me. xion is a perfect bab and xemnas can fite me

-Xion leaves again

-Roxas, learning pieces of this but not all, runs away from the org. cue titular “no one would me” “that’s not true!” scene from 2

-(this leads to what is a hilariously depressing scene of roxas on the clocktower looking at his life and going “where could i even run to? I havent got anywhere to go” because he’s never known anything other than the organization and whoops i made myself sad again)

-namine explains to xion that sora can never wake up so long as they have his memories. The only way for them to release the memories is to die. It’s a hard decision.

-Xion meets roxas on the clocktower, feigns insanity, and goads him into fighting them (”do you see my face, roxas? is it a boys face? don’t you see. I have to make you a part of me too.”)

-cue more ff style boss fights

-xion dies

-look i can’t go into detail on this one i’ll start crying again, xion dies, everyone forgets they ever existed, and roxas gets to watch them shatter into dust in his arms.

-in the brief period where the memories are quickly vanishing but Not Quite Gone Yet roxas goes into a Roaring Rampage of Revenge and storms the World That Never Was

-this is where Riku catches up to him, and from there its a pretty straight shot into the beginning of kh2

-which im sure if you played these in chronological order would be *some kind of mood whiplash* i bet

-okay what have i missed

-recoded happened. the only important part here is that malificent and pete find out about the black box and malificent being malificent of course she Has To Have It

-”but whats the black box??” you ask

-good question

-we still dont know

-its  origin point is in KHUx though, 

-which is the multiplayer mobile game set during the Keyblade War of ages past. each weilder also has a companion dream eater named chirithy

-there are five unions, each headed by a leader and represented by an animal (unicorn, bear, snake, fox, and leopard)

-#anguisforlife

-these five (plus one more, named luxu) are each given roles by their master (the Master of Masters, or also known as MoM). He also tells them there is a traitor amongst the warriors of light. it’s unclear at this point how much of this he is directly steering. He also doesnt specifiy Which warriors of light, probably on purpose so everything happens as it should.

-so figure, trying to figure out who the traitor is is a pretty direct cause to no one trusting each other and eventually going for each others throats

-there is a page from the book of prophecies he gives only to luxu, who he tells that his role is to see the future with this Special Keyblade (and specifically the Eye in it). You might recognise it as xehanorts keyblade (and then you’ll start to see the Eye in a whole bunch of other ones too, notably in soul edge, way to dawn, and void gear)

-luxu fucks off, and everyone else goes about their business

-the first half of khux details how these unions came to  be rivals, and then how they fell into war with each other and destroyed the light. the second half detailed how Ava, leader of the fox union, created a fifth group known as the dandelions, specifically picked to survive the fall of the light and rebuild.

-ventus and lauriam are two of these leaders. No, we still don’t know how they got from one point to the other.

-one of the replacement leaders, strelitzia, got murdered and replaced by someone else. i think this plot point has been resolved in japan but i havent checked yet

-strelitzia is lauriam’s sister. she also knows elrena.

-and if you’re bad at anagraming like i am, lauriam=marluxua, and elrena=larxene

-so yeah figure that one out for me

-also i love strelitzia she has like two scenes total and i was already ludicrously attached help

-(Yes i screamed very hard during that One Scene in 3. we dont even see her face but it’s heerrrrrrrr)

-anyways

-right the black box

-luxu is seen carrying it off in the Back Cover movie as he wanders into exile. we still dont know whats in it. and that’s basically that.

-which leaves just Dream Drop Distance

-sora and riku take a Highly Modified mark of master exam under yen sid.

-things go wrong almost immidietly

-sora gets trapped by the xehanorts in a deep sleep, where they plan to use him as one of their 13 vessels of darkness

-there has to be 13 for some reason

-13 darknesses, and 7 lights, and when they clash it’ll make the X-blade

-because reasons

-it’s fate or something

-riku rescues him

-there is time travel involved now

-because at this point the 13 darkness now include; heartless ansem, master xehanort, xemnas, young xehanort, xigbar, and saix.

-more time travel will be involved later, but to keep this in mind the rules of time travel here are

     -you cannot take your body with you

     -you lose any future knowledge you gain if and when you return

-things are obviously wibbly here because it’s half in the dreamscape, but just. keep those rules in mind when you play 3.

....... im sure im missing a bunch but i just spent two hours writing the most casual pre-kh3 synopsis ever i hope you can forgive me XD

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Whatever It Takes | Ch. IV

Pairings: (Yoongi/Reader/Hoseok)

Genre: Romance, Angst

Words: 4,638

Tags: Gang AU, Cop AU, Smut

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four 

Chapter Four

"You mean to tell me she's the daughter of a man no one has seen or heard from in twelve years?" Hoseok asks as he chuckles in annoyance, not really believing what his people had come up with. "How do we know it's actually her? We don't exactly have a photo to compare her to."

"About that," Jimin gestures towards V, grabbing the file in his hands. "We may not have a picture, but we have DNA on both."

Hoseok is intrigued by this information. "Are those the results?" He asks as he holds out his hand, "They're a match" Hoseok mumbles with raised eyebrows. He definitely wasn't expecting that.

"Not only that, he's also the boss of one of the best and most dangerous gang out there" Jimin continues, "He's the king of kings. Now, my question is... what was his daughter doing at our little event last night?"

Hoseok stares at the wall with a serious expression on his face, subconsciously playing with the rings on his fingers.

If he had you on his side, that meant he had the most powerful man in the world by his side. Oh, the things he could do with that much power in his hands. "I don't know about that, but it seems we've struck gold with our unexpected guest."

He smirks, the gears in his head moving at a rapid speed as millions of ideas run through his mind. "Where is she staying?" He asks as he looks towards V, who was now standing silently in the corner —waiting for an order like a good little soldier. "She's staying at the Melrose Hotel" Taehyung answers, his eyes glaring slightly at the man in front of him. Just because he temporarily works for the man, doesn't mean he has to like him.

"Anything you can get on her, I want it in my possession as soon as possible. Now." He continues, watching as V nods before walking out of the office. His curious eyes watch the younger man leave the room.

"Did he pass your little test, yet?" Hoseok asks, nodding towards the door. "He's trustworthy enough. We can just get rid of him if he fucks up, but at the moment, his the best at what he does" Jimin answers him as he sits down on one of the chairs in front of his desk, crossing one leg over the other as he chats with his long time friend. "Good. Where are we on the Russian deal?" Hoseok inquires as he opens the file that was marked as yours, picking up the photo that was taken of you at the ball last night. It didn't do you justice.

Hoseok nods as Jimin continues to speak about the new shipment that was coming in tomorrow. He didn't bother listening to every detail, he had been in this business long enough to know how everything went. Right now that wasn't his top priority. Right now, the number one thing on his list was you.

"Fine, make sure to bring more men." Hoseok answers, watching Jimin stand up from the chair. "They tend to get a bit unpredictable when things don't go their way." He finishes off, his hand reaching for your picture. He didn't even notice the small smile that appeared on his face as he took every inch of you — all the things he could do with you by his side.

This is going to get very interesting — The thought ran through his mind as he threw down your file into one of his desk drawers. He stood up, buttoned his suit jacket and made his way out the door; Jimin following behind him. "Who's our first victim of the day?" Hoseok asks as he made his way into his car, with a smile on his face that seemed almost child like.

You watch with a look of disgust on your face as Jungkook slurps up the cream in one of the cannolis, That boy is not normal— thinking to yourself as you shake your head , finally managing to look away from him. "That is just disgusting" You take a big gulp of your coffee, your eyes scanning the board filled with surveillance pictures, reports from Taehyung and old/new data Jungkook had collected at the beginning.

There was still no way Hoseok's empire will come crashing down, he was thorough and made sure nothing could ever be traced back to him. Lucky for you, you love the thrill and adventure that comes with the challenge.

You hear the front door of the apartment open behind you, "Where are we with Taehyung?" Yoongi says, throwing his coat onto the couch before standing right next to you —his hands on his hips. Yoongi had been taking turns here and at the office, he was joining the team and leaving his second in command in charge of the station.

"Met with Hoseok this morning, gave him info on (Y/N)" Jungkook replies, making Yoongi nod, "Okay. Good, good. We're getting somewhere, let's move on with the next step."

"And that is?" You yawn into your cup— not your most attractive moment — feeling it burn the back of your throat as you gulp it down.

Yoongi turns towards you, "You're moving out" He says before walking away from you. You knew for a fact he had officially entered the investigation, he was running the whole thing now —somehow you couldn't help but wonder if this was the only reason he had even agreed to let you in on it in the first place.

You continue drinking your coffee as you stare back at the board, the creeping feeling you in your gut when you know something bad was going to happen. You decide that's it's better to ignore it than to keep thinking about it.

You sat in the back of the car, watching as the run down buildings turn into mansions and expensive boutiques. The people in the car beside yours matching the present atmosphere. You sigh as you cross your legs, the short dress riding up on your thighs as you look towards the driver.

This time, Yoongi wasn't there with you. The decision to have a legitimate driver this time was made and you were already thrown into character. You didn't say much as you take out your room key out of your purse, seeing the gold shine when the light coming through the window would hit it at just the right time.

"How much longer?" You ask your new driver, putting the card back in your purse. The same nervous feeling as before creeping up again. "We're almost there, Miss" you hear him say.

"You've been asking him that for the past thirty minutes."You hear Yoongi say into the earpiece, smiling to yourself as you hear an exaggerated sigh coming from Jungkook. You could already imagine him running his hands across his face as he does so.

"I can't help it, I'm bored" you whisper to yourself, knowing that they had most likely heard you. "Find something else to entertain yourself with, before the guy drives himself into a wall." Yoongi hinted, leaning back into his chair.

His eyes drifting over to Jungkook as the younger began to sloppily eat his ramen. Being the tech guy usually meant you didn't get to go out a lot — maybe that's why Jungkook forgot how to eat in front of another human being. His social skills were dwindling with every investigation, Yoongi knew he needed to send Jungkook on a real mission — let him do the physical work for once.

Yoongi looks away already used to such a scene, glancing at the monitors once again. He didn't really have a visual of how you were doing, he could only hear you and everything within your personal bubble. Other than that he couldn't exactly tell what was happening around you, but he could definitely take a wild guess.

His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck as he leans his head back further into the chair, the sound of the car engine and your breathing fill his ear.

You could only feel excitement as the Melrose Hotel came into view, making you sit up in your seat as you  put on your sunglasses. "Miss" You hear as soon as your door is open.

You smile a thank you in his direction as you grab your purse, stepping out of the car as you look at your new surroundings. This is where you were going to spend most of your time in, might as well get familiar with it.

You smile as you catch sight of how the bright lights flooded into the hotel suite. The way the room was completely open and boy free was a sight as you tip the bellboy who had helped you bring your bags up. You nod in his direction as he bows before leaving the room and as soon as the door closes behind him you drop the act of the perfect heiress as you kick your heels across the room.

You always loved cases like these, the ones where you could just lay around all day and still catch the bad guys. The ones where you didn't have to put that much effort into things.

You throw yourself on the king sized bed, bouncing as you spread your arms wide across,"I freaking love my job" You moan out loud as you sink further into the soft cotton sheets, feeling the mattress engulf you as it adjusts to the curves of your body.

"Don't get to comfortable" You hear Jungkook through your earpiece, "and... It's ruined now" You sigh deeply before you stand up from the bed, walking over to your bags you start to rummage through the expensive clothing that you had borrowed from an old friend. "You need to be ready in the next two hours, of course I need to ruin your peace and quiet" Jungkook finishes with a smirk, before leaning back into his chair, crossing his hands behind his head. He was the one giving the orders now, at least until the chief came back.

"Yeah, yeah" You roll your eyes, taking out your earpiece and placing it gently on the desk. You didn't know how long you were going to be staying at the hotel, but you were going to squeeze every little cent out of it.

This is the long awaited vacation that you needed in the last three years and you were planning to enjoy every last minute of it.

"Then if he tries to hurt me, I'll shoot him in the testicles" You tell Yoongi as you walk around your hotel room. You woke up to the sound of your new phone ringing nonstop inside your purse. You were confused when you saw the name MOM flashing on your screen, before you remembered that it was Yoongi's contact. That could've gone so many different ways.

You slip on the short black dress up your body, feeling it become tighter as you zip it up. You walk back towards the laptop, watching as Yoongi's eyes widen at the sight of you.

"(Y/N), You can't hide a gun in a cocktail dress." You hear Jungkook say, sounding as if he was on the other side of the room. "Fine. I'll stab him with my fork, can I go now?"

"Yes, with your new security detail. They should be coming up now." Yoongi tries to argue once again, the idea of just sending you alone with nothing but your wit and your fists to protect you, —although with very good reason — did not settle well with him.

"I don't need security, Chief,I'm fine on my own" You tell him without even looking at him. You were making sure that your make up was intact, before opening the door to your hotel suite. You could that the two men who stood in front of you were newbies  —most likely fresh out of the academy, trying to suck up to the man who signs their paycheck.

Yoongi might have your best intentions at heart, but he was basically putting you on babysitting duty. "You need to look the part" He sighs, only you would question his every motive, "You need to have bodyguards. It's an order."  Yoongi says, before the whole screen went black making you groan in frustration. The fact that he had sprung this on you at the last second made it harder to turn down. You take a deep breath, trying to find zen —whatever the hell that meant— and you force a smile on your face as you hear a knock coming front your front door.

You make your way to the front door of your hotel suite, "Det-" "Don't even finish that sentence" You interrupt, walking past them as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator, you could hear the rushed footsteps quickly following behind you. You could feel their stares on your exposed legs as you wait for the levarle to arrive. "Never call me by my tittle when on the job." You clarify as you wait for the elevator doors to open. "I'm just (Y/N) to you two today."

This is what you get when you sign up as a teacher — a lot of teachable moments on the field. You get into the elevator first, turning around you notice them frowning from being scolded. "Are you both just waiting for an invitation? Get in." They may not like you now, but they will be thankful when they're leading their own investigations.

"So this is how it's going to go," You say, watching the numbers flash as the elevator goes down to the lobby. "The two of you are going to stay out of my way, but make sure the mark knows you're there" You turn around, watching the looks of confusion flash across their faces, "Understood?"

"Uh..." You wanted to laugh at the baffled looks on their faces. Man, did you love your job.

"Understood!?" You yell this time, receiving a "Yes, Sir!" in return. You roll your eyes, turning back around as the elevator doors open. "I'm surrounded by idiots." You mumble to yourself as you make your way out and into the half empty lobby.

"We can hear you." Yoongi hinted into your ear, "You were meant to" You respond as you begin to strut towards one of the bars. The sassy you was back as you made yourself fit into your new persona.

It was hard not to notice all the people looking in your direction. You were a diamond in their eyes and someone they needed to be next to, someone they needed to be to live a good life — but of course that was the whole point.

You walk into the bar watching the people dancing around the place with a drink or two in their hands. "This music makes me want to kill myself" You mumble to yourself as you make your way into one of the stools, gesturing with your eyes to the men following behind you to back off.

You watch as they finally take the hint and make their to the end of the bar, their eyes never straying from were you were sitting. You had to give it to them, you could tell they were newbies and yet you knew they were taking their job very seriously.

Your face is adorned with a flirty smile as you make your way to the bar, signaling to the bartender before your eyes glance over the tall tables placed across the room.

"A glass of red wine, please." You tap your red colored nails against the counter top as you sit back on your stool —as comfortable as you could get.

"Put it on my tab" You smile at him, handing over your room card. "I've got it" A male voice says from behind you, before a two twenty dollar bills were placed on the counter in front of you. The familiar smell of his cologne fills your senses, "Nice to see you again Mr. Jung" You turn your head slightly, giving him the up and down before you look away.

Hoseok takes this as an invitation, sitting right next to you as he still manages to keep his distance.

Your eyes glance down at the his battered and bruised hands tapping against the black marble counter as you take a sip of your wine glass. "How about we get you something a little stronger?" Hoseok suggests, gesturing over to the bartender.  "Maybe help you loosen up a little more." He gives you an obnoxious smile.

"How about a sex on the beach?" You scoff at the mention of the girly drink, interrupting him before he embarrasses himself any further. "Actually that sunset rum looks better." You smile sweetly at Hoseok, "and much more expensive"

"Fine." Hoseok agrees as he nods towards the bartender, "and a vodka for me."

"It's like you want me to carry you out of here" Hoseok smirks, "Don't worry, that's never happened before. Either way, my guys can do that for you." You point towards your new bodyguards, they were staring at the both of you like a hawk.

Good to know they're taking their job seriously— You think as Hoseok looks back at him, "And I'm going to go ahead and say that the other pair of eyes across the room belong to you" You say as you pick up your rum, taking only a small sip and feeling nothin gas it runs down the back of your throat.

"So you pay attention" Hoseok turns back towards you, biting his bottom lip as his eyes glance up and down your body once again. The fact that she's hot is definitely a bonus—the thought crosses Hoseok's mind.

"So what brings you to Korea?" Hoseok continues, his eyes finally meeting yours. "Last I heard you were in South America" this makes you chuckle.

"Shouldn't you first buy a girl dinner before you start looking into what she's been doing for the past year?" You take a sip of your drink as you look at him with a questioning and curious look, the smile on your face was still present.

"I like getting to know said person before I continue anything" He quickly responds, somehow the atmosphere still calm and playful. "And you are one woman worth pursuing." He looks at you with that signature look all guys give, the one where they think they have you trapped in their clutches.

"I'm sorry. Is this you flirting with me?" You ask, a hint of curiosity in your tone. There was no harm in making him work for it a little longer, even if you both knew the end result.

"Oh no, I'm full-on hitting on you" Hoseok answers with another smirk, leaning in closer to your body. You chuckle, turning in your seat towards him, "Is there a difference?" You challenge him, "Yes, flirting is perceived as innocent, I prefer to go for what I want and right now — I'm looking straight at her" You genuinely chuckle, "A man who knows what he wants," a smirk, "I like it"

You always thought that the best part of your job was that most of the time, you didn't really need to pretend to be somebody else. "And I like a woman who can give me a challenge."

You could hear Jungkook gagging from the other side of the earpiece, making you bite your lip as you hold back a laugh. You can just imagine Yoongi's face of disgust as he does the little bunny scrunch he does with his nose, at how corny this conversation turned out to be.

You were sure Hoseok thought the same thing the moment he said it, he shook his head with a chuckle. "Is this conversation a little cheesy for you?" Hoseok finally gives in as he sees you trying to silently hold in your laughter. "I swear I have more game than this." He might as well try something else, being cocky and suave isn't exactly working.

You end laughing out loud at that. The once cold gangster was gone and the man trapped behind him appeared. "A little bit" You giggle, biting your bottom lip as he looks anywhere else but you.

"Uh, let me start over" He laughs silently, licking his lips as he takes another drink. He needed liquid course if he was going to get anywhere near you tonight.

"I'm usually not this sleazy" Hoseok assures you, inching his chair a little bit closer to yours. Now this side of him you can work with — it seemed almost sweet.

"I'll be the judge of that" You smile at the genuine look he was giving you. You take another sip of your 'rum', feeling absolutely sober. For some reason, you think to yourself that maybe it didn't have any alcohol in it and only one person would pay the bartender to do that.

You don't waste time as you continue to act as if the alcohol was flowing through your veins and flooding every single coherent thought in your mind. You sway your body from side to side, moving your hand to rest up high against his thigh.

You didn't dare move it out of the way and by the look on Hoseok's face, he certainly didn't mind.

"How about I walk you to your room?" Hoseok offers, taking a gulp of his vodka as his eyes catch the way your body sways from side to side — the half empty glass of rum resting lonely on the counter.

"That would be a good idea right about now." You giggle at him, wrapping your arms around Hoseok's neck. You lean your head on his chest, feeling his hands around your waist.

You watch over his shoulder as your 'bodyguards' stand up instantly, their eyes on high alert as they see you being carried out by the target. You wave your hand in their direction —telling them to sit down, that you were fine— as Hoseok holds you closer, carrying you towards the exit.

"Don't fall asleep on me now." He grunts as he feels your weight on him, feeling the swells of your breasts press against his side as he waits runs into the open elevator doors.

All Hoseok wanted to do at that moment was place his hands all over your body, to have the satisfying feeling of your skin touching his with absolutely nothing in the way. He was tempted and as the elevator doors open to your floor, he took a deep breath before he held you closer.

You look up at him through half lidded eyes, smiling as your giggles resonated through the empty hall. Nothing was funny about the situation, but you acted like a happy drunk. Hoseok's eyes glance down your dress, biting his lips as he them jiggle with every step you took.

God, how he was tempted to just push you against the wall and have his way with you. The thought of doing things to you almost made him act it out in real life and as he reached your door, he noticed your men following a couple of feet away.

"Where's your room key?" He sighs, shaking his head as if that small movement could get rid of his wicked thoughts. You took this moment to take him by surprised, leaving him with something to remember you by.

His soft, thin lips move rough against yours as his hand instantly grip on your hips, tightening and with every movement of his tongue against yours, he brings your body closer to his.

"(Y/N)?" You moan as you suddenly hear the familiar voice calling out your name, "(Y/N)?, Are you okay, I can't hear anything. What's happening?" Yoongi's panicking voice fills your ears as you finally pull away. You clear your throat, feeling yourself blush for getting lost in the kiss.

"Stop hitting the computer, it wasn't cheap!" You could hear Jungkook yell, to who you presume to be Yoongi. "I know, I'm the one paying for it!" You flinch a little as you hear feedback coming from the other side as the other two continue fighting.

"Why did you stop?" Hoseok asks, almost breathless. His eyes were still close as he swayed slightly in his spot. "Let's keep going" He jested as he leans in once again, resting his forehead against yours. "I liked where this was going." Hoseok whispers against your lips.

"How about we call it a night?" You chuckle, patting his chest before stepping out of his arms. You reach out with your hand, wiping his lips of any extra lipstick you may have passed onto him in your little moment of no self control.

Hoseok takes this moment to grab onto your hand, bringing it close against his lips. You smile as you feel him leave a lingering kiss on your lips. "Then," He smirks, his hand running up and down your sides, "go out with me tomorrow. I'll show you all the things your missing by being stuck in this hotel."

I think I just got goosebumps, you think to yourself. "Okay." You nod at his request, earning a peck on the lips, "I'll hold you to that" he whispers against your lips before the warmth radiating from his body disappears.

You watch his retreating back, confidence radiating from him in rays as you push the door your hotel suite open. "Will you two stop fighting already?" You yell out, hearing complete silence come from the other side. "I swear the two of you are like children" You mumble under your breath, finally able to throw your heels across the room.

"Please do remember that I sign your paycheck" Yoongi's annoyed voice rings out and for a moment you though of answering something related to the bedroom and who was really the boss, but then you remember Jungkook.

Letting him hear something like that with the vicinity in the room was a horrible idea —not that Jungkook will ever let you live it down. "That is irrelevant and I'm tired. Goodbye." you argue before you take off your earpiece, throwing it on one side of the bed. You throw yourself on the other side, feeling the ache in your ankles from having your heels on for so long.

"Nooo..." You open your eyes when you feel your phone vibrating against you, the name MOM flashing repeatedly before you put it on silent. "Go away." You mumble against the pillow before throwing it to the couch on the other side of the room as your eyes close once again. You'd answer his calls later.

Yoongi could only stare at the phone in frustration as he tried calling you again. He knew you weren't going to pick up this late, probably already snoring away.

To you, it never did matter if he was your boss, but then again it was his idea to continue doing whatever it was you two were doing. A relationship? Just sex?

Yoongi didn't really know. He just knew that he likes having you around him, it makes him feel all soft and tingly inside.

He lets out a deep sigh, giving up on calling you. You had done your job for today. "Stop drinking so much Red Bull" he tells Jungkook, grabbing the van from the younger ones hand and taking a sip of it himself. Leaving Jungkook dumbfounded at the action.

This is going to be a long night, he thinks to himself as he yawns, his eyes glancing at the monitors for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

<< Chapter Three | Chapter Five >>

[cooperjones2020]

What’s Past is Prologue, What to Come, pt. 6

Summary: He wanted to hit whoever made Betty cry. He wanted to hit Betty so she’d keep crying. Interrelated vignettes from Jughead Jones’s obsession with Betty Cooper. Dark!Jug, Creepy!Jug, Stalker!Jug, generally Sociopathic!Jug.

A/N: Complete :) There’ll be one more one-shot to tie-off the series posted on Friday. But it will be more along the lines of Marked than of this fic. Prepare yourselves, because Dark!Betty comes out to play.

TW: implied violence (for this chapter specifically, check the other tags on ao3)

(parts one / two / three / four / five)

ao3—> http://archiveofourown.org/works/11394858/chapters/26675151

Every town has one. The house on the haunted hill all the kids avoid. Now that Jason was buried in the earth, it would only be a matter of time until something poisonous bloomed in that long, cold shadow cast by his death. Whatever grew in the rich black soil of the Blossoms’ garden always found its way to the town. Whether it was murder or love or secrets or lies.

He loved the murder board. He loved that Betty had touched every single piece of it. Earlier, when he was in the Blue and Gold office alone, he had run his fingers over every photograph, every scrap of paper, every tangled strand of red string, willing his fingertips to absorb the oils from her skin.

After the memorial, after Betty cornered her father about his conversation with Clifford Blossom, they returned to the office to regroup. He leaned back against a desk and watched her a few feet away from him as she grappled with the splintered fragments of her family.

“Juggie, I feel like I don’t even know who my mom and dad are anymore.”

“Betty,” he stood and moved toward the murder board. “If your parents lied about Jason and Polly, there’s probably more that they lied about.” He turned back to look at her.

“What do you mean?” She moved to follow him. He’d dealt with Trev, but now he wanted something from her. Some sign that they were in this together.

“Your dad said he would do anything to protect Polly. So the next logical question is, how far would he go to protect her?” He turned to the table in front of the board and grabbed an index card.

“Jughead, whoever broke into Sheriff Keller’s house and stole all his evidence wasn’t at the drive-in.” She looked at him with her big green eyes shining. He could imagine the look of the tears he knew she was holding back. “My dad wasn’t at the drive-in.” He handed her the index card and watched to see what she would do. With just a moment of hesitation, she pinned it right smack dab in the center, below Jason’s yearbook picture. God, he was proud of her. He pushed her over that barrier and she let him. He wanted to scoop her up in a hug and to devour her.

Instead, he said, “We need to talk to Polly.” Betty took a deep breath and gave him a wobbly nod. His heart slowed and beat thickly, as if submerged in maple syrup, as he watched her. The string between her and her parents was pulled taut. It would be easy to snip. It would be one more string he could hoard for himself.

On the first night he spent in the janitor’s closet at school, after the drive-in closed, the third thing he did was seek out Betty’s locker. He’d stolen a set of maintenance keys a few weeks ago and had a copy to the school’s front doors made, just in case. The drive-in had a cot, but it didn’t have a shower. And they’d stopped running water to the bathrooms at the campground when it had closed for the season on the first of September.

So the first thing he did was take a shower. The second thing he did was break into the cafeteria kitchen and scrounge up some dinner. Then he headed down the hallway with the science classrooms.

She’d had the same combination since sixth grade: Polly’s birthday. He rummaged through her locker for anything new, anything that could add to the store of Betty Cooper trivia he kept locked inside him.

He already knew about the Neosporin in the pink pencil box on the top shelf. But when he opened it, the tube was almost empty. It might have been that way for a while. There’s no way she’d used that much this early into the school year—she probably brought an old half-used tube from home anyway.  But still. He wanted to slice the scars off her palms.

He replaced the pencil box and reached for the stack of notes besides it. He unfolded their intricate shapes and pressed them flat before scanning each one. All from Veronica and Kevin. All useless.

“No one cares you can’t get dick, Kev,” he whispered under his breath as he struggled to re-fold the notes.

Then, he reached over her school books and slid his hand down the back wall of the locker to see if anything had fallen. But rather than the detritus of further notes and to-do lists he expected, he found two slim books. One, the worn copy of The Story of O he’d caught her reading a few weeks ago. He hadn’t believed the story she fed Cheryl about writing an exposé on book banning. So he pocketed it to look at later, in the luxury of his closet. The other, the small pink book he recognized as her diary. Jackpot.

It was only about a two-thirds full but the last entry seemed to be from a few days before — a description of her showdown with Archie outside Pop’s. Odd. She normally wrote in it every day. He flipped back to the first entry, the day she arrived in LA, and began to scan, until his own name grabbed his attention.

I finally got Jug to talk to me. He’s been avoiding me since I got back. I don’t know what happened with him and Arch over the summer — though it seems to be better now — but he better get it through his thick skull that Archie has no business in our relationship. Whatever Archie did to him doesn’t affect him and me. He looks skinnier. Last night at Pop’s, I convinced him I was full so he’d eat the rest of my fries. I wonder if he’d be offended if I offered to pack him a lunch. A lump formed in his throat that he didn’t understand. But when he turned the page, the rest of the entry devolved into a description of cheerleading routines.

A few pages later something else caught his eye:

I think some of my clothes have gone missing. If Polly were here, I’d swear she’d stolen them, but she’s not so that can’t be it.

Sometime around early September, mentions of Archie, and especially her feelings for Archie, had dropped off sharply. Simultaneously, her mentions of him had grown. He tried not to read anything into it. It was probably just because of the paper. He was around her more so of course she would think about him more. Write about him more.

But then,

Dear Diary,

It happened again. I’m losing time. I remember talking to Chuck at Pop’s and making the plan with Veronica and Ethel. But I don’t remember showing up at Ethel’s house. I don’t remember calling him Jason. And I don’t know where I got the black wig.

This hasn’t happened since I was in LA. I had hoped it was some freaky coincidence brought on by not enough humidity and too much green juice. I don’t know what to do or who I can even tell.

Who will I be if I let go?

Sometimes Jughead looks at me as if he knows.

That was it. She ended the entry and then the next one was about Archie and Grundy. Fuck.

Channeling all his darkness into his obsession with Betty Cooper allowed Jughead to maintain a thin veneer of normalcy. That she might be doing the same to him…

The needy beast of a thing in his chest roared to life.

Most days, he does a pretty good job at seeming normal. Well, not normal. Reggie likes to call him things like Donnie Darko and Wednesday Adams, but, still, he manages to keep most of his darkness on the inside.

But all of these days from the past swirl in Jughead’s mind as he lets himself into the Andrews’ garage and commandeers Fred’s ladder. The day he met Betty. The day Betty burned her arm making him cookies. The day she got grounded for losing her American Girl doll. The day he set Nancy Drew on fire. The first day he saw her topless. The day she drove away from Riverdale in a wood-panelled station wagon. The day she asked him to join her on the Blue and Gold. The day the drive-in closed. The day he found her diary. The day she went on a “date” with Trev Brown.

Polly had accidentally scratched Betty’s cheek when the orderlies were dragging her out of their hug earlier. Jughead spent the car ride home fighting the urge to lick the blood off her face.

She would pine after Archie. She would “date” Trev. She would kiss Veronica. But her darkness is his. Today, she will pick him. He has a plan.

She sits at her vanity, fingering her necklace and staring at the floor when Jughead gets to the top of the ladder beneath her window. He wraps gently on the closed glass and her head turns, ponytail whipping behind her. He can tell she’s surprised, but her face quickly gives way to a smile as she rushes over to open the window.

“Hey there, Juliet. Nurse off duty?” She steps back so he can climb in. “You haven’t gone full ‘Yellow Wallpaper’ on me yet, have you?”

Betty’s voice is rough, as if she’s been crying. “They’re crazy. My parents are crazy.”

“They’re parents. They’re all crazy.”

“No, but what if—what if Polly is too?” Betty stammers. “The way she was talking to me, the way she looked at me. And now all I can think is, maybe I’m crazy like they are.” She’s spiralling. Jughead puts a hand on shoulder and he feels some of the tension drain out as she sighs, as his touch does that to her.

“Hey. We’re all crazy.” He looks into her eyes, willing her to know what he knows. To know they’re alike. She smiles at him and looks at the floor.

When he speaks, her eyes drift back up. “We’re not our parents, Betty. We’re not our families.” He might be imagining it, but he thinks her eyes pause on his lips on their journey back to the floor. “Also—”

“What?” she whispers. She stares into his eyes again as he flicks his gaze all over her face. “What?” she asks again, louder. She smiles at him with half of her mouth and raises one eyebrow.

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. When she doesn’t pull back right away, the monster inside him cheers. Then when she kisses him back, he sighs and it settles into a contented purr.

She breaks the kiss, “The car!”

He smiles at her and raises his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s what you were thinking about in the middle of our moment?” If he hadn’t just felt the insistent pressure of her lips against his own, he’d be more upset. But he knows, better than anyone now, how Betty’s mind works.

“No. Polly talked about a car Jason had stashed for them down Route 40. Near some sign? If we can find it, we can confirm Polly’s story.”

“Well, one way or another.”

“I need to know, Juggie.” Then she leans forward and presses another soft kiss against his lips. He’d do anything for her. He’d kill for her. Of course he’ll go looking for the damn car with her. Because now, he’s got her. He’s finally got the real life Betty doll.

[lifeaftermeteor]

Reserva Biológica Tawahka Honduras 207 March 7 

The EXFIL team had slowly crept through the foliage and hillsides, winding their way unseen through the terrain to avoid possible traps and contact with the enemy, after their pilot had dropped them far enough from the target that the sound of rotary wings wouldn’t draw unwanted attention.  Eventually, they reached the compound which the Preventers apparatus had deemed ‘of interest.’  There’d been no positive sign of their captured field agents...but the satellite imagery indicated a complex on high alert, if the number of armed guards were any indication.

Heero had split off from the group upon approach, aiming to find a clear shot of the compound through the nature reserve’s lush greenery.  He now crouched in the branches of a tree, his rifle leveled at the building a solid 2.5 kilometers ahead [1] across a vast expanse of empty, exposed grass clearing.  Through the scope, he watched the movement of armed men around the compound, clearing a yard in the back of the facility.  One of the men strode across the distance between a wall that jutted out from the side of the building and a cluster of men on the other side of the clearing.  He pointed back at the wall and then gestured to the other men.  They fanned out into a line and began checking their magazines.  One raised his weapon at the wall briefly before lowering it once again. 

Firing squad. 

“Shit,” Heero hissed, feeling tension coil through his body.  Over the closed comm channel, he reported back, “Activity in this quadrant suggests we’re running out of time, sir.” 

“Hold your position,” the team lead’s voice murmured in his ear.  The rest of the EXFIL crew would be in their respective positions by now, Heero knew, crouched in the shadows and underbrush ready to pounce with guns blazing.  Waiting for an opening.   

Heero took a deep breath to calm fraying nerves.  He was out of practice with this sort of thing.  The stings he normally participated in as a field agent were quick and tactical and usually executed with the local SWAT force.  This...this was a different beast altogether.  This was a military operation.  It made him vaguely ill; but then he’d think of that damn video and Wufei and the feeling would fade. 

He watched activity in the yard pick up once more.  Through a side door, two men dragged a prisoner into the yard.  The man stumbled, his right leg seeming to give him trouble.  Black hair brushed his shoulders and through the dried blood and angry bruises, Heero recognized Wufei. 

“Fuck,” he cursed before calling back to the ground team, “Permission to engage.” 

“Hold your fire.” 

“Dammit, they’re going to kill him,” Heero snapped back, his finger already on the trigger.  2.5 kilometers suddenly felt impossibly far away as he watched the armed men shove Wufei up against the wall and retreat behind the line of guns. 

A pause followed.  Horrifically long.  Bated breath.  And then—“Engage! Engage!” 

Heero fired his rifle three times.  Three of the men collapsed to the ground, their heads popping sideways in clouds of red.  In the confusion that followed, he took out two more.  One of the men ran forward and grabbed Wufei, hauling him in front as a shield, the barrel of a gun pressed to the agent’s temple. 

Heero watched the man scream in his general direction, exhaled slowly, and pulled the trigger. 

Wufei watched from in front of the wall, stunned as shots rang out from the treeline and his would-be executors toppled like rag dolls.  Elsewhere in the complex, he could hear gunfire approaching, rebounding and ricocheting around the building to where they stood.

Macklin was upon him then, dragging him away from the support the wall had offered.  His arm wrapped painfully around Wufei’s neck to hold their bodies together, protecting his captor from whatever threat had besieged them across the wide swath of empty field that separated them from the treeline. 

“You can’t do it!” Macklin was shouting, his face pressed close to Wufei’s temple.  “Not at this distance!  Not when I’ve got him!  You won’t take that sh–” 

There was a crack and a sickening thud and Macklin’s arm went lax as he dropped away.  Wufei stared down at the corpse.  His harbinger of death was now just another body.   

He turned his eyes to the treeline.  “Heero?” 

“Run, you idiot!” Heero growled at the stunned man staring back at him through his sight.  As if he’d heard him across the distance that separated them, Wufei grabbed a handgun and one of the light machine guns which now lay discarded in the yard.  Now armed, he limped back into the compound. 

“Zhang’s on the move,” Heero informed the rest of the team.  “He’s armed and back inside.  Try not to shoot him.” 

“Roger that,” the team lead called back over the echo of gunfire that had enveloped the complex.  “We’ll see you soon.” 

Heero slid from his perch in the tree and made his way toward the compound and into the fray. 

Wufei limped through the dim corridors with singular purpose: to get the others and get out.  Anyone who stood in his way—hobbled though he may have been with what he expected was a sordidly broken ankle—was only an obstacle for so long.  He dispatched two of their captors with the handgun as they rounded a corner toward him.  Another as he crossed a four-way intersection.  Into the battle, into the bloodshed again. 

He drew up short and ducked into an empty room when he happened upon a cluster of his captors who had barricaded themselves at the other end of the hall.  Peering around the doorjamb, he saw they were exchanging fire with unseen assailants.   

EXFIL, he realized, ducking back into the room.  He threw the safety on the handgun and secured it with his belt [2] before taking up the machine gun.  Leaning back around the corner, he opened fire.  His captors were caught entirely off guard at the sudden change in the direction of the assault.  They went down quickly.   

Threat neutralized, he turned his attention back down the other end of the hall, ready to lay down suppressive fire as the Preventers extraction team approached from behind.  “Others in off-shoot of this,” he ground out to the agent who reached in first, the pain in his jaw flaring viciously as he did so.  “Dead-end on left.”   

The man nodded and gestured to the rest of the team which flowed around them like water.  To Wufei, he said, “We need to get you out of here.” 

“Not without the others,” Wufei argued back, checking his magazine before following the rest of the team.  He forced himself to move without the limp, his ankle screaming at him as he did so.   

They moved through the compound sowing death in their wake.  After twelve years, it felt alien and yet...and yet...the familiarity was singing in his blood. Some distant part of him was frightened by how damn good it felt to drive through the men who’d hurt him, hurt the others.  It never really ends, does it?  The General’s words echoed in his brain and Wufei could feel the sting of unshed tears in his eyes.  No, it doesn’t.  It never ends, it’s never fucking over.  It will never be fucking over.  The machine gun in his hands clicked and locked, signaling the end of his ammunition.  He slung it over his shoulder and switched back to Macklin’s handgun. 

When they found their Preventer brethren, they found the General.  The man held them hostage with a self-rigged vest of explosives and his thumb hovering over the detonation button.  Self-destruct, Wufei thought as the EXFIL team pinwheeled backward and away from the door, the team lead already trying to talk the man down from the ledge he’d brought them onto.   

In a fit of madness and with assured steps, Wufei walked forward, rounded the corner into the room, and fired. 

The bullet tore through the General’s hand, knocking the device out of reach and harmless, which gave the rest of the exfiltration team the vital seconds to drive forward.  They pulled the captured agents out of harm’s way and subdued the General, who raged from his place on the floor while he clutched his bloodied hand.  His eyes met Wufei’s and the threat there was palpable across the small distance that separated them. 

Wufei moved to raise the gun a second time, going numb.  But he was stopped by a gentle hand whose calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist.  Turning, he found Heero’s steady blue eyes on him.  He felt himself tumbling into the abyss as adrenaline rushed from his blood.  Distantly, he could hear rotary wings...and then the world started to fade...black… 

Heero trailed behind two of the EXFIL crew members as they moved Wufei, strapped to a stretcher, out of the clearing and onto the helo.  The rest of the rescued agents walked on, their wounds deemed superficial by the medic.   

As they boarded, there were two other helos approaching for a landing.  Heero watched them drop down beside their own bird, watching the shift from war zone to crime scene occur in real time.  It left him off-balance, part of him wondering if he’d imagined the smell of blood and cordite. 

Turning away, he followed their medic to the back of the aircraft.  He then hovered as she conducted a cursory assessment of Wufei’s injuries, muttering to herself.  “Well?” he prompted when she didn’t acknowledge him or his silent, burning questions. 

She quirked an eyebrow at his impatience but said, “Clinical opinion is he got the shit kicked out of him.  He’ll need surgery for the jaw and the ankle at the very least.  If we’re lucky, he’ll’ve avoided rupturing anything too important.  The bruising on his abdomen has me worried.”  She then watched him for a moment and Heero knew she could read the unease clearly on his face.  “We’ll get him stabilized at Tegucigalpa and then medivac him back up to New York for surgery.” 

Heero considered this, watching her insert an IV even as the helo took off, her practiced fingers unaffected by the sudden change in their center of gravity.  As they lifted into the air, he had the odd feeling they had been joined by a silent, third party.  Glancing down at Wufei, he found the man’s bruised eyes still closed as if in sleep.  “Can I stay here with him?” 

“Sure,” the medic replied.  “I’m going to go check on the others.  I’ll be back in a few.” 

Heero watched her walk off.  After a moment, and over the dull rumbling of the helo around them, he heard the man on the stretcher say, “They knew.” 

He looked down once more and found Wufei watching him from beneath heavy-lidded eyes.  They were filled with some sense of urgency, but unfocused.  Drugs are working, Heero thought, his eyes darting to the IV.  “Knew what?” 

“Who I was,” Wufei groaned, struggling to form the words through the morphine haze and busted jaw.  “What I was,” he added, sounding more insistent, “and soon...they’ll all know.” 

Heero heard what went unspoken.  The frustration and fear and dejection in the face of the inevitable.  Gundam Pilot.  Heero wrapped his fingers around Wufei’s wrist.  The action had previously pulled the man from the brink, halting the apparent kingpin’s execution…and possibly handed Wufei a future of infamy.  Heero swallowed thickly, feeling Wufei’s pulse slow against his fingertips as the drugs pumped through his blood.  “Rest now.  We’ll deal with that later.  Together.”

 [1] The longest sniper shot previously on record was 2.475 km, held by British soldier Corporal of Horse Craig Harrison in 2009; however, in January 2017 it was reported that a Canadian elite special forces sniper completed a 3.45 km shot. 

[2] For the love of God, do not do this.  Bad, bad gun safety!

[c-rankin93]

Welcome to Stamford Pt 4

Okay so how long has it been of sever writers block, crossed with an earthquake and to many hours at work? Weeks, months? I don’t know but all I know is im back, and this ladies and dudettes is what I call- ‘you know when you have written like 3 chapters and you think they are all shit so you re-write them and you spew corny shit all over the pages’! But I needed to give you guys something, you were begging me and I felt bad. So please don’t kill me for this.

Now the way I see Finn in this, is different. He’s more loveable, cheerful and what I think FUNNY??

Just think of the way Nico acts in real life. I always see moody Finn and grumpy Finn… what about happy Finn. But hey if you don’t like it, then pass this on as a flake.

Now my writing is meh? I haven’t written in so long and this was a spur of the moment thing where I had to write this down before it disappeared.

Enough with my rambles, READ. READ. READ. And P.s I might be on Wattpad now? So im not just writing fan fic anymore!

I LOVE YOU ALL MY PATIENT FOLLOWERS! MWAH!!!

&&&&& NOT EDITED 

PART 3 GUYS! HAVE A RE-CAP 

 FINN POV

 Sweat baby Jesus.

I could see the blush invade her ivory skin, her plump cheeks turning a glorious shade of crimson red. Her eyes avoiding mine as I tried in vain to see those deep chocolate irises of hers.

Stubborn girl

I knew she was embarrassed. The all mighty Rae with a mouth as lethal as a gun was stunned in silence.

I could hear Archie briefly chuckle under his breath before my eyes flicked to his. It was a moment of gratitude when he cleared his throat and straightened his posture, not muttering a single word more. I didn't need to give this girl a reason to run.

I couldn't help the broad smirk stretch across my face, not that she would even notice. No she was too busy playing with the loose threat of her shirt. Dazed by her own lyrical words, and most likely regretting the last five minutes of her life.

"Oh really" I couldn't help but question with a little pep to my words. I won't lie, I was enjoying this. Watching her body squirm under my gaze like I was her weakness, I felt powerful but also very amused.

I straightened to my full height but kept my arms crossed across my chest, my smile never fading. This girl was really something.

"Go on..." I asked as I lifted an eyebrow, my gaze never wavers from hers.

Her head shot up, I could see her brain ticking away. Most likely over thinking the situation she got herself into.

“I... ugh- I only just read that part" she stuttered barely above a whisper.

Before I had the chance to reply to the vixen my view was obstructed. Blue eyes pierced into mine, it wasn't a foreign experience looking into them but it was an experience I unfortunately discovered one too many times.

"Hiya Finn" Her slightly squeaky voice made me shutter. I learnt a few months back that Chloe wasn't going to give up, yes I might have led her on at the start, body first, mind second. I am a guy, and nobody in their right mind can say they have never done or won’t ever do something like that. By the time I learnt other aspects about Chloe, the way she coolly spoke about other females, her slightly flirtatious fingers that wondered a bit too much along the planes of my body I realised we had nothing in common. She likes attention, I hated it. That was more than enough reason to keep away. I hadn't even kissed the girl and I have to fend her off with a spatula.

Her finger nails slide alone my shirt, whilst her other hand tangled through her hair, twirling her locks into a tight knot. Ha! Hope her fingers get fucking stuck.

"Chloe" I nodded, removing her hand and backing up slightly. I noticed her smile drop before her fake facade crept its way back onto her face.

"I was thinking that maybe we could hang out again tomorrow night" her sickly sweet voice was drumming through my head. I noticed her eyes flick back towards Rae who still looked like a deer in headlights. A smug smirk etched its way onto her slim face, and I knew exactly what was going on.

I knew at that moment she was marking her territory. Fuck, she might as well just cock her leg and piss on me instead. I've had numerous girls attempt this, and all of them failed. I was not some object, I liked my space and I liked to make my own decisions. And right now my own monologue sounded like a pre-teen-fucking-girl.

"Actually chlo" I spoke coolly, fuck I hope this worked. "Rae and I already had plans".

Four mouths dropped in unison, but only two mouths spoke- or yelled.

"What" Chloe and Rae were in sync, both tones slightly pitchy but I gave it a C+ for effort.

"Maybe all that erotic smut has seeped too far into that head of yours Rae" I wiggled my eyebrows to emphasize what I meant; "If you don't remember us having plans tonight, then maybe I should just drag you away now".

I hoped to God Rae played along with this one, my eyes were pleading to her. I could see the sparkle of mischief in those doe eyes, it manifested in self into a full blown grin and I was nearly knocked of my feet.

Two rows of while teeth, cute little dimples that sat on the edge of her beautiful smile, and I even noticed the wrinkle she got near her eye.

God, this sad sap of and man could just reach out and pinch the roundness of her cheeks like an overbearing Grandma. I have officially lost my balls.

"Oh that. Sorry totally forgot, ugh. Well all I really remember is that you- you promised me pizza all expenses paid for and I can't really turn that down" Rae was a natural liar, I wasn't sure to be scared or amazed.

"You sure you need the pizza" Chloe mumbled under her breath, but I know that Rae and the others had heard her snide comment.

Just as I was about to say something in return, I heard Rae speak up. To say I was shocked was an understatement, to say I was now stiff as a board down stairs was completely accurate. Oh the bite in her words was beyond erotic.

"Well Chlo, yeah I do. An ass like this doesn't stay this round by only eating salad. Maybe you should try it one day; I mean it might give them something to look at from behind".

SHE HAD ME. HOOK. LINE. SINKER.

My arm was then suddenly torn from my body, blood spraying the weak as zombies raided the school demolishing those who couldn’t run fast enough. Poor Chloe dead, her jugular spraying warm blood one the walls… is what I wanted to narrate but really it was Rae pulling me along towards the library exit whilst I threw I peace sign over my shoulder to gayer, red and blow –up Barbie. Oh I could so be a writer.

She let me go from her clutches as soon as we were far enough away and stopped awkwardly. She smelled like coconut, her face flushed red, and her tacky bag just hung limp from her hand.

“Okay well this was fun- ugh… See ya!” have you ever watched a girl speed walk away from you like you just announced that you had leprosy? Well that was what Rae was currently doing and I must say my ego wasn’t too impressed.

“HEY!” I yelled, which caused her to walk a little faster. I swear she could win Olympic gold with that stride.

“Rae Stop! I mean it…” shit this was not working. She had managed to cross the quad and head towards the front of the school. I knew once she made it out of the gate I would lose her. So many possible ways she could turn and with a walk like that I wouldn’t be surprised if she walked all the way to London by the time I made it to the chippy.

It was time to officially lose any street cred that I had.

Operation embarrass-the-shit-out-of-rae-until-she-stops comenses.

“Rae Earl! How could you do that to me! Kiss me then leave me for another!” I yelled, fake sobs raked my body and any student between her and I gawked. Including Rae herself, excellent.

“You told me it was only me!” I continued, falling to my knees in a dramatic fashion.

I looked at the ground as she started to cuss in my direction. I didn’t need to see her to know she was currently heading my way.

“Get the fuck up Finn”.

“Why don’t you love me anymore?” I wailed waving my hands in the air like a mother giving birth. I really shouldn’t have dropped drama class. I was just imagining my name in flashing lights- Finn ‘the knicker dropper’ Nelson, God of the theatre. Ultra sexy alter ego named ‘Nico mirallegro’ king of the Italian mafia. (Always had a thing for Italian names, sue me!)

“If I wanted to listen to an asshole Finn, I’d fart. Now get the fuck up!” Rae’s face was just a whisper from my ear and I couldn’t help but crack a large grin as I got back to my knees.

“You had me at hello” I spoke lustfully giving her a good ol’ wink.

“You’re a pervert! Why the fuck did you just do that to me… and you? Aren’t you worried about your reputation! God you are so stupid” she smacked her palm on her forehead and huffed.

I sighed. “Why would I care what any of these people think?” twisting my brows together as I saw the shock on her face. “… and plus the way you were walking you’ve be in Australia before I knew it. I wanted you to stop”.

She gave me a look as to say ‘why?’ and I breathed heavily… well ive already gone this far.

“I thought we had plans… you know-pizza?”

“You meant that?” I nodded.

“Oh well I thought you were just saying that to get away from Chloe” I rubbed my face with my hands and then looked straight into her chocolate eyes.

“You intrigue me Rae. You act different, you look different. I need a change in my life. So what do you say? Pizza…?”

Ohkay who the fuck am i, and what have i just done to grumpy Finn. i took me years to perfect that grunt, and in a matter of 10 minutes she just managed to turn me into a completely different person. Ohkay maybe i need to rethink my acting career, im not good at staying in character.

----

Its short i know, but its up. SO TEll ME HOW IT WAS YO! 

TAG LIST THUS FAR…

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