#like I do know most venetians hate it and he would understand too and agree
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actually no we don't talk about nico who likes pirates enough. we don't talk enough about how he probably has a favorite pirate. we don't talk enough about how he probably has a favorite ship. we don't talk enough about how he probably has a favorite shipwreck too. we don't talk enough about how he probably spent all day on the canals with the gondole, asking the gondoliers all sorts of questions about their boats until his mother had to pull him away. how many hours did he spend on the port of venice just watching the boats come in and leave? just.... how far does the love of pirates go? is it a love of boats too? like we know he loves (I refuse to believe it's past tense) pirates, but we don't even know if he knows how to swim, or if he likes being on cruises, or at the beach or what. it's sad.
#i don't know how evident if is but the past few days I've been thinking about nico growing up in venice and not having to leave#and just getting to spend his life there and I think he would love living by all the tourists#like I do know most venetians hate it and he would understand too and agree#but he would just be so chatty and probably speak like 30+ languages he picked up from tourists and just#all the boats for him to enjoy!!!#plus venice's cemetery is really fucking cool he would love that#i can imagine him spending all day at the markets as well and just ugh my heart#he drew the short stick he got the bad end of the deal etc#pjo#nico di angelo
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End of an Era (Part 3)
Far from a happily-ever-after, the emergence of a new threat brings the next generation of the De Clermont family into a fight for the survival of all creatures, humans, their family and the future of the world.
SPOILERS: All Souls Trilogy & Time’s Convert
PART 1
PART 2
___
Rebecca watched Miyako’s shallow breath rise and fall, timing it on the large face of the WWII Era Pilot’s watch on her wrist. Her younger siblings had gone to bed hours ago with Marthe watching them.
Rebecca opted to stay with her cousin and grandmother whilst the others attended the third evening of meetings since Miyako’s return.
“I remember when Philippe presented Baldwin with that timepiece,” Ysabeau mused from the other side of the bed, “he left for the border the day after and didn’t return, not really.”
“How did you live with it, the anger?”
“I killed a lot of witches,” she confessed, “most had nothing to do with what happened to your grandfather. I regret that now.”
“I hate that vampire so much, I don’t know how to stop.”
“She’s dead now” Ysabeau replied with a sigh, “and I couldn’t be happier, the last thing I want is to lose you too.”
It was true, their nemesis was dead. But that did not fill her with the satisfaction she’d hoped it would.
Miyako’s eyes opened abruptly and she tried to sit.
“Rest, don’t try to move too quickly!” Rebecca placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Gallowglass, where is he?”
“Everyone’s at a meeting, they’ll be back soon.” Rebecca assured.
“We have to tell them.” Miyako sat up and moved to stand but Ysabeau blocked her path.
“Tell them what?” The vampire asked.
Miyako weighed up her options and, even at full health, taking on Ysabeau was not a wise decision.
She sat back on the bed instead, organising her thoughts.
“We were wrong about her, the masked vampire.”
“You saw her read the charges on the broadcast before they-“ Ysabeau reminded.
“Before they cut off my father’s head and burned his body? Yes, I saw that.” Miyako snapped.
“Why do you believe you were wrong, Miyako?” Rebecca asked.
“Because she didn’t read it, the witch did.” Miyako explained.
“She can’t speak, Jack said as much.”
“Because of what Benjamin Fox did to her,” Ysabeau agreed.
“But he would never have deprived his victim the ability to scream. To cry and to beg. He loved that sound too much.”
“So she could speak?”
“Her mind did what he would not, switched off speech and emotion, pain, fear, grief. At least until now”
“What changed?” Ysabeau asked.
“I don’t know but I’m not telling this story twice,” Miyako rolled her eyes and turned to Rebecca, “call your father, tell him that Catarina Cicogna was the masked vampire, and that she never betrayed the de Clermonts.“
“Matthew knows her?” Ysabeau asked doubtfully.
“He did and saving him from Benjamin’s plans put her on that monster’s radar.”
“How do you know all this Miyako?” Matthew challenged from his chair at the head of the table.
He had left the meeting, still in progress, to return with Diana.
“Because she gave me her blood, she let me feed from her memories.”
“Let’s take a step back, who are we talking about?” Diana asked.
“Her name was Catarina Galena Marcato, she was a daemon, and a spy for the de Clermonts.” Matthew told her.
“You recruited her.” Miyako pointed out.
“Baldwin ordered me to kill the girl’s father, which I did. After her mother died she became my responsibility so I sent her to Cicogna, the Doge of the time, for an education. She became an accomplished spy for the Doge so I recruited her for our family also. I did check on her, often, when my travels led me through Venice.”
“So what happened to her?” Rebecca asked.
“Evidence suggested she was killed by the Doge’s mistress, yet another spy, for the Bourbon’s this time. But that was clearly not the case.”
“Where did this evidence come from?” Diana prompted.
“Philippe. Several months with no news from Venice, he sent Gallowglass to investigate. It’s not his fault. I’m sure he found the trail Benjamin left for him to follow.”
”Benjamin turned her.” Diana’s nodded in grim understanding, she’d learned enough about Benjamin Fox to know what that meant.
“Not right away.” Miyako admitted.
The arm rest beneath Matthew’s grip splintered and Diana placed a hand on his arm to comfort and calm him.
“Catarina knew a lot of our secrets, how did she prevent him from finding them?” He asked no-one in particular, it was a mental exercise to stay calm.
“Her mother was a witch, she knew how to mix an elixir that would prevent a vampire learning secrets through blood lore, and disguise her scent from vampires.”
Matthew sighed as though remembering.
“Potions, tonics and elixirs. She could hide her nature from anyone, including myself. Catarina would seem like a human to any creature.”
“Is that even possible?” Rebecca frowned.
“If there was a witch so skilled, I never heard of it.” Ysabeau answered warily.
“It’s nothing I’ve heard of.” Diana admitted.
“She must have been talented, since you believed Catarina was just a daemon.” Miyako revealed.
“She...was just a daemon.” Matthew‘s brows knitted with confusion.
“What was her father?” Miyako challenged.
“Excuse me?”
“Why did my father order you to kill him?”
“He was drawing human attention to himself.”
“By?”
“He could heal the sick.”
“Uncle Baldwin ordered you to kill him because he was a doctor?” Rebecca frowned.
“He was no doctor, he used no implements, or tinctures. We never determined his method but he could bring back plague victims from the brink of death.”
“Calad Marcato was...something else, the last of his kind, or he was, until Catarina.” Miyako explained.
“She was a daemon!”
“No, she wasn’t. She could sing so beautifully it made men weep, she could play any instrument put into her hands although she preferred the violin you gave her as a gift. I think she saw you as a father figure, ironic considering.”
“Why would Benjamin want her?” Matthew asked.
“To hurt you?” Diana suggested.
“No, he would have wanted me to know he had her.”
“We received a credible threat from Venice,” Ysabeau spoke up, “Philippe was aware of Benjamin’s movements, not all of the time but when he emerged he left breadcrumbs. Benjamin had intended to spring a trap on you but it was foiled.”
“Because of Catarina?” Rebecca asked.
“Yes, I believe she sent it.” Ysabeau sighed.
“What,” Matthew stood, “she risked her life to save me and I was never told? I could have saved her!”
“You can’t save everyone Matthew.”
“Benjamin was my fault and Catarina was my responsibility.”
“Matthew, you weren’t...you at the time.” Ysabeau tried to explain.
“It happened when we time-walked,” he realised, “the ‘me’ from that time vanished.”
“I don’t even know how she discovered the plot.” Ysabeau admitted.
“I do,” Matthew shook his head with the ghost of a smile, “she could speak five languages and was a complete smartass in every one. But it meant that she understood the rumours she overheard. Cicogna was smart, he made her the Dancing Master of his court, everyone treated her like a novelty, the girl in the venetian mask-“
“The what?” Diana asked.
“It wasn’t the same one and until now it didn’t even occur to me to connect them, I thought she was dead. On balance, it would have much been better for her if the Doge’s mistress had simply cut her throat and dumped her in the grand canal!”
“Matthew,” Diana asked carefully, “where would you have been, had we not time-walked?”
“I don’t remember!” Matthew answered.
“You think you could have saved her!” She asked gently.
“Perhaps.”
“Then why don’t we?” Rebecca asked.
“Becca, we can’t go messing with time on a whim!” Matthew rebuked his daughter.
“But you did, and you didn’t know, it’s not your fault but she was in Venice when she was taken, we’re here right now, Pip and I could go back, grab her and make sure Benjamin doesn’t get her.”
“No!” Diana barked abruptly, surprising Matthew.
“Mum, they’re not going to just stop, they have a martyr now, they will come for us and we’ll fight, but what if we can stop it now?”
“Becca, I know how much you miss your Uncle, but he would not want this!”
“He loved this city,” Miyako countered, “he would not want its people to be harmed if it was avoidable.”
Matthew sighed.
“She was there, at his execution, she saw everything. More than we did!”
“Yes, she saw him die.” Miyako nodded solemnly.
“Then you did too.” Diana spoke softly.
“No, there were things I know she did not show me. She didn’t hate or blame us, she wanted to help. Believe me when I say that this is not an emotional appeal to save my father but a plan to save us, this city and all creatures. That’s what he would have wanted!”
Diana looked at her husband, expecting incredulous dismissal but saw only his pensive, analytical mind work through the possibilities.
“Matthew?”
“We can’t save her but we can stop him getting to her.” Matthew suggested.
“You mean kill her?” Rebecca stared in disbelief.
“Becca, we don’t even know if it’s possible to move someone into a future they don’t exist in.” Matthew argued.
“If we go back it has to before All Souls Night.” Diana pondered.
“It can’t be too soon before Benjamin took her,” Rebecca argued, “she still has to discover the plot and send the letter. It has to be Pip and I!”
“Not happening!” Matthew stated decisively.
“Dad, we don’t have a choice, if you go back too early you risk messing things up more and if you go too late you’ll wipe out everything you did the last time you went, including me and Philip!”
“Don’t be ridiculous, we would always have had you!” He countered.
“Not if Benjamin got to you or Mum back then.”
Rebecca noted the glance her parents shared.
“Your mother and I will discuss it, as a last minute solution.” Matthew answered.
“But-“
“You have our answer Becca!” Diana responded, making it clear that they were united.
“Yes Mum.”
“Miyako,” Matthew started, “what exactly happened with Catarina when you saw her?”
“I scaled the building, made my way inside and she was alone but waiting.”
“She had no guards?” Diana asked.
Miyako looked away, embarrassed.
“I suppose I should have realised they were hoping for an attempt on her life, she had outlived her usefulness, alive anyway.”
“The girl knew she was going to die.” Ysabeau observed.
“She did,” Miyako agreed, “it’s clear from what I saw that she planned to give whoever came for her this information, she knew about time-walking, she was trying to stop all this.”
“Why now, she was with them for three years, what changed?”
“I don’t know,” Miyako admitted, “it was clear there was something she was keeping from me.”
“Baldwin,” Diana suggested, “you said she kept his death from you, maybe there’s more we don’t know?”
“I don’t see why, she didn’t know him.” Matthew argued
“He was in Venice a lot, their paths never crossed?” Miyako asked him.
“If the Doge’s dancing master was having an affair with a de Clermont, believe me, there would have at least been rumours. Besides, he would have never gone against the covenant, not whilst Philippe was alive.”
Miyako nodded in agreement.
“He was afraid of no-one, except Grandfather. I never really understood that.”
“It’s not your fault,” Matthew gave her a sad smile, “daughters and grand-daughters got away with much more than sons-“
“Or grandsons,” Gallowglass interrupted as he entered and took a seat, “we’re reminiscing.”
He surveyed Miyako with concern.
“You look better.”
“And you look exhausted cousin.” She returned, making the vampire chuckle.
“Thank you.”
“Gallowglass, what is it?” Diana asked, sensing the heaviness of his aura.
“Miyako, Rebecca, upstairs please.” Matthew stated whilst leaving no room for debate.
Both left with minimal fuss and Diana placed a silence spell over the table in the event of eavesdropping.
“The witch, Jessica Brown, she has issued a warrant for Miyako which I obviously have no intention of complying with.” Gallowglass continued when his cousins had left the room.
“That won’t be the end of it.” Matthew observed.
“No.”
“What are you not telling us Erik?” Ysabeau prompted.
“They have given us a week to hand her over.”
“And when we do not?”
“They will take the city,” he shook his head, “I’m afraid we must again find a new home.”
“We have nowhere else to go that’s safe,” Ysabeau argued, “we might already be at that last minute solution.”
“What have I missed?” Gallowglass looked between them.
Matthew glanced at Diana and received her reluctant nod before proceeding.
“The masked vampire, thanks to Miyako, we know who she was.”
“Who?”
“Catarina Marcato, you investigated her supposed murder but really it was all Benjamin’s doing, he took her, did god knows what to her, but she was still loyal to the end, she was being controlled by the witch. Something broke that control, we don’t know what.” Matthew summarised.
“I do,” Gallowglass groaned, “Grandfather did not send me to Venice to investigate her murder. He sent me to bring her back to Sept-Tours.”
“Why?”
“Because she and Baldwin did know one another, would that be right?” Ysabeau asked her grandson.
“Yes, they did,” he confessed, “Grandfather was convinced that she-“
“She was Baldwin’s mate.” Diana finished for him.
Matthew stood stunned for a moment before turning and walking away from the table.
“Matthew?’ Diana called after him.
“I need a drink!” He called back.
#adow#a discovery of witches#adow fic#end of an era fic#adow writing#baldwin montclair#baldwin de clermont
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The Tenor
A series of coincidences leads you to talk to the best singer in your choir.
Pairing: Singer!Jungkook x Reader
Word count: 3.6k
Genre: pure innocent fluff
Next ––>
|mlist|
“As soon as we get free time, we have to go take pictures, okay? I’ll actually die if I don’t have a photo against that specific wall. And once we’re out of the chaperones’ sights we can order wine! I love Europe, I swear, I’m literally never leaving...”
You laugh. “Whatever you say, Rena.”
“We need a group of at least three, right? I’m thinking you, me, and Taeyeon— oh, actually Hyuna’s joining us because she broke up with her boyfriend.”
“Didn’t she do that last week?”
“Yeah, but they got back together— you know her.” Rena looks like she’s about to say something else, but your guide claps his hands.
“Alright everyone, welcome to Venice!”
Your choir cheers, and you join in. You’ve been looking forward to this trip all year, and now you’re really in Italy with your choir, touring and singing in some of the most amazing churches in the world. “Anyone that wants to try a gondola, line up in groups of five,” the guide says. “Afterwards there’s free time and an optional glassblowing exhibit.”
Glassblowing? Now that sounds interesting. You turn to tell Rena that much but she’s already looking around for a fifth group member.
“Jennie’s in a group already...” she whines, “Sunmi and Jeongyeon too, ugh!”
You’re sighing bemusedly when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see Taehyung, a baritone that you’ve always been friendly with but never close to.
“Hey, y/n, I was wondering if you have a group for the gondola ride?”
You smile widely. “Yeah, and we could use another person. Want to join us?”
Taehyung grins as you inform Rena of your new fifth member. Always the friendly ones, your friends welcome Tae with enthusiasm. The five of you pile into the gondola to which your guide has directed you and you end up wedged between Rena and Hyuna, with Taehyung across from you.
“Watch this,” Hyuna whispers, her plump lips brushing your ear before she speaks loud enough for the whole group to hear: “Hey, Tae!”
You have to give into your laughter: at Hyuna’s words, both Taehyung and Taeyeon turn around with expectant expressions.
“Ahh, that was great,” Hyuna giggles, sitting back in satisfaction.
You worry that Taehyung will be annoyed by your friends’ teasing dynamic, but you see a sparkle of amusement in his eyes— he’s having as much fun as the rest of the group. The five of you banter easily, enjoying the ambience and beauty of Venice.
“Did you hear that?” Taeyeon cocks her head suddenly and points upriver, past the bored gondolier behind you. Listening intently, you make out the sweet melodies and harmonizations of a group of advanced vocalists— an exclusive subsection within the general choir.
“Are they in the boat behind us?” Rena asks, peering at the canal.
“They sound amazing,” Taeyeon whispers in awe, and you have to agree.
“How did they find their pitch?” You wonder aloud. The song they’re doing is complex and completely a capella— hence, it being an advanced song.
“I bet Jungkook is on that gondola,” Taehyung says, and the four of you nod in understanding: Jeon Jungkook is the choir’s golden boy and the only member of the choir with perfect pitch.
“No wonder they sound so good, if Jungkook’s there,” Hyuna sniffs. You want to think of a clever response, but you’re beyond mesmerized by the notes floating across the water. Like most of the songs in your set, the advanced vocalists are singing in another language and since it’s impossible to focus on the lyrics you settle for picking out individual voices: that clear, ringing voice is your fellow soprano Seulgi, and the throaty alto tone of Sunmi is easily recognizable.
You have no clue who’s singing base or baritone because as soon as you focus on the impossibly flawless tenor voice, any other thoughts go out the window. You don’t know or care what the words are— the guy could be singing through a grocery list and you’d still be captivated... you snap out of your daze when Rena begins clapping. Is the song over already?
“Encore!” Taehyung whoops, and you hear the advanced vocalists talking as their gondola rounds a corner in the canal, at last coming into view.
“Shit, were we really that loud? I bet our gondolier hates us.”
“It’s fine, we sounded great.”
“We sounded like death, but maybe that’s just me.”
“Someone tell them to stop clapping, it’s embarrassing!”
As the boat nears yours you see Seulgi waving wildly and next to her is Jungkook, the tenor with the enchanting voice. You and Jungkook haven’t run in the same social circles— despite sharing a class for three years, you’ve never spoken, and you’re quite certain that he’s unaware of your existence.
But you know of him. You’ll never forget that day in freshman year— your director was trying out guys one by one for a solo while the girls oooh’d as backup. You weren’t paying attention, just mindlessly holding your note when your director called on Jungkook to try out. Ten seconds after he began singing, your director needed to stop him because the backup had stuttered to a halt. Every single girl in choir, including you— and a fair number of the guys too— fell silent on hearing Jungkook’s voice.
Within a minute you had developed a massive crush on him, but with a face and voice like his, Jungkook was impossibly out of your league.
“We’re not even playing the same sport,” you’d told Rena back then. “It’s more like he’s a star in the major leagues, and I sometimes trip over my own feet and call it exercise.”
Your crush had faded quickly— you never spoke to him and it was hopeless anyways— but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering whenever you heard him rehearse his solo. There was something impossibly attractive about a voice like his. The gondola ride is over quickly and you join your classmates in crowding around the tour guide.
“Alright, guys,” the guide says once everyone’s settled down, “you have an option: follow me to see a Venetian glassblowing master at work— it’ll only take an hour— or go off on your own and meet back here in three hours. Remember, groups of three or more at all times.”
You feel a tug on your hand. “C’mon, I need to go take pictures,” Rena says, holding up her phone. “Model for me?”
“Oh, uh... I sort of wanted to see the glassblowing,” you say lamely.
“You need to be in a group of at least three,” Hyuna mentions, “and you don’t have three.”
“Sure she does.” You feel a pat on your head and turn to see Taehyung winking at you. “Let me return the favor. My group is gonna check out the glassblowing— wanna come?”
“Sure,” you reply quickly. Rena’s your best friend and you adore her but sometimes she can be a bit controlling, and you’re in Italy. You want to do all sorts of cool stuff, not just walk around and take photos. Tae ushers you away to join the others and you shoot an apologetic glance at your friend, who shrugs good-naturedly and flashes you a thumbs up.
“The others”, as you discover once about thirty of your classmates have squished into the glass exhibition room, are Jimin, Namjoon, and Jungkook. You’re on good terms with Jimin and Namjoon and you have a great time whispering and snickering in between heavily accented lessons in the art of glass.
You don’t talk to Jungkook— you figure he’s the quiet type, probably best left alone to muse about life’s great mysteries or how to make his voice sound even better. The demonstration ends and people quickly empty out, off to find lunch in the time they have left. You catch up to Taehyung.
“Mind if I tag along again?”
“For sure— not that we know where we’re going,” Tae replies, and the five of you set off in search of food.
“How about this place? It doesn’t look bad.” Jimin points eventually at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a hopeful-looking waiter. The five of you settle down, you and Jungkook across from Namjoon and Jimin, with Taehyung at the head. The waiter returns with water, but as you reach for your glass you somehow manage to knock over the heavy pepper shaker, which falls on your other hand with a dull thud.
“Ah, fuck!” You yank your hand away and cradle it, beyond embarrassed that you’ve already screwed up in front of your new friends. While you’re still inwardly cursing yourself, an unfamiliar noise startles you. Beside you, Jungkook’s shoulders are shaking with mirth. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh.
“It wasn’t that funny,” you tell him indignantly.
“No, I just— I didn’t know you swore,” he chuckles, and you realize with a start that it’s the first time you’ve heard his speaking voice.
But also... “You didn’t figure I could curse?” You’ve got the mouth of a sailor, anyone that’s met you would know that.
“Well, you’re always so shy and quiet,” Jungkook explains, and you gasp at him. He thinks you’re quiet? Your director has had to tell you to and your friends to stop chattering on numerous occasions. And Jungkook, the golden boy, the born singer, thinks you‘re quiet?
“It’s big of you to make so many assumptions when we’ve never interacted,” you say, growing miffed. “How many times have I said hello to you in the last three years? And how many times have you responded?”
You see Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. “I...”
It’s a valid question. Choir always puts you in a good mood, and you get outgoing when you’re cheerful. The number of times you’ve said “Hiiiii, Jungkook” and “Kookie, you’re my favorite” is embarrassingly high. He’s never replied with anything more than a nervous laugh or an “okay”.
As you watch Jungkook struggle to answer, you feel a smile spreading across your face. Have you two really never had a conversation? Why?
The conversation wanders, as conversations are apt to do, and you begin talking about your fellow choir members. “Did you see Nayeon literally wearing stilettos on the cobble street? How does she still have ankles?” you wonder aloud. “See, this is why I wear this stuff.” You pluck at your plain black T-shirt and utilitarian beige shorts. “I mean, I look like literal trash, but-”
“Wh-why...” Jungkook laughs again and you can’t for the life of you figure out what’s so funny. He’s got a cute laugh, though. “Why would you say that?”
“Say what? That I look like trash?” You giggle inwardly at Jungkook’s nod of disbelief.
“It’s called self-deprecation, hon,” you say, lacing your fingers together.
“You shouldn’t say stuff like that about yourself,” he protests.
“Why? It’s funny and an unhealthy coping mechanism. Win-win.”
This time his laugh isn’t one of discomfort or shock, but rather a chuckle of fascination and amusement. Who’d have thought it, Mister Perfect is really growing on you.
You awake the next morning with a yawn— you and Taeyeon snuck over to Rena and Hyuna’s room after curfew last night to gossip, which was fun at the time but the choir is performing tonight and now you barely have the energy to make it through breakfast. Rena and Hyuna are already chattering when you join them.
Right when you’ve finished your toast and downed a pot of coffee, your director claps his hands.
“We’ve got a concert tonight, so bring your attire,” he says loudly. “We’re going to walk around Tuscany today. The bus ride is a few hours long, and we’re not coming back to the hotel, so bring your attire.”
“Why does that sound like a threat?” Taeyeon whispers.
“Because it is,” you reply.
You and Taeyeon are walking together to the bus after stopping by your room when a thought hits you.
“I’m an actual idiot,” you gasp. “Tae, go on without me, I’ll be right back.”
“What happened?”
“I forgot my attire,” you call over your shoulder, already running. You take the stairs two at a time, cursing yourself— you don’t want your director to call you out for being late to the bus. You burst into your room and grab your choir dress and shoes, hurrying back to the bus within seconds. The bus is nearly full when you get there, and Rena is already sitting with Hyuna and Taeyeon is sitting next to Jeongyeon and the only seat available is by... Jeon Jungkook. You approach him. “Is this seat taken?”
He moves his jacket off of the seat next to him in lieu of a response and you sit down quickly, so grateful you don’t have to do the awkward shuffle to find a seat. When your director is done lecturing on what proper tour behavior looks like, you pop in your earphones and put your show tunes playlist on full blast. An hour in, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You ignore it, sure it’s just Seokjin or Hoseok bothering you.
You feel another tap, this one more urgent. You look behind you in annoyance to find Seokjin and Hoseok asleep on each other. Then who’s...?
“Hey, I just wanted to mention,” Jungkook says, and his voice behind you makes you shiver. “You’re sort of singing out loud.”
You go red. “What? Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He snorts again and you roll your eyes. “Yes, I do swear,” you remind him. “Anyways, I’ll stop making noise now, sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I liked that song.” He begins humming along, picking up where you left off, and once again you’re struck by the rich tenor voice. You carefully remove your earphones, drinking in the snippets of lyrics and his quiet smile and the way his chest rises and falls with each breath.
You realize you’re staring and Jungkook must realize it too because he clams up. “Well, anyways...” he mutters, clearly embarrassed, and you press your lips together. Jeon Jungkook gets shy?
“Here.” You offer him an earphone. “Do you like show tunes?”
“I love them,” he replies with a smile. “I remember the first day of freshman year— you walked into choir singing a song from Wicked.”
You let out a surprised laugh. “How do you remember that?”
He shrugs. “How was I supposed to forget the girl that was so unafraid of being herself?”
You feel your heart flutter at his words and you swallow thickly. Time to ease the tension, or you might actually fall for him. “All that, and you still think I was the quiet type?” You poke him in the shoulder with your earphone. “Now, I’m offering this once. Listen to music with me?”
He grins, and a hint of a dimple appears on his cheek. “Once,” he agrees, taking the earphone while you queue up your favorites.
Once turns to twice turns to more than you care to count and it becomes a regular thing, you and Jungkook sitting side by side, heads bobbing and fingers tapping in unison, and on those rare moments when he begins to sing along you fall silent and let the music wash over you.
Obviously he’s out of your league but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice feelings bubbling up every now and then— when he understands your fandom references, or takes your music recommendations to heart. You tease him relentlessly about his perfect pitch and reputation, and he in turn begins to loosen up with you. On the sixth day of the tour, he makes a self-deprecating joke and you nearly choke on your pizza.
“Did you just...?”
“Maybe I did.”
“Am I corrupting you?”
The next week you fall in line with Rena and Taeyeon as the group traipses to the Trevi Fountain. “Hey, girls!”
“Shouldn’t you be walking with Jungkook?” Taeyeon says with a wink.
“I sat on the bus with him earlier— plus, you know I miss y’all.”
“Oh, no!” Rena squeals. “We’re going to the Trevi fountain, the most romantic spot of Rome. Go walk with Jungkook! You know everybody ships you two,” she nudges you forward, where Jungkook is walking with Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon.
“Wh-guys!” You protest, your cheeks going red.
“You can’t walk with us,” Rena sings with a glint in her eye. “But I think Jungkook wants to talk to you.”
You sigh. “You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?”
“Nope!” Your friends chorus. You roll your eyes, increasing your speed to catch up with Jungkook and company. As soon as Taehyung spots you, you see him whisper something to Jimin and Jimin and they all melt into the crowd.
“What was that about?” You ask as you fall in step beside Jungkook.
The tenor sighs. “Nothing. What’s up?”
“My friends are ostracizing me, so...”
Jungkook laughs. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.”
“No you’re not.”
“No, I’m not.”
Your guide claps his hands, halting the group in a small plaza. “Alright gang, the Trevi fountain is just around the corner— home to iconic scenes, the most famous being Roman Holiday or that one episode of Futurama. The story goes that if you throw one coin in, you’ll return to Italy. If you throw two coins in, you’ll fall in love on this trip to Italy—“ here the choir oohs and shrieks— “and if you throw three coins in, you’ll come back and get married in Italy.”
“No one is throwing more than one!” Your director calls, and the group laughs.
“Want a coin?” You offer Jungkook as the crowd disperses. He looks like he’s going to say something, but instead nods and takes the coin, his fingertips lingering on your palm. There’s a tug on your heart, some crazy, stupid, impulsive longing to throw two coins into the fountain. Fall in love... on the choir trip? Pfft, how cliche. You shake your head and sit next to Jungkook on the edge of the fountain before throwing a coin over your shoulder.
“Just one, I see,” he teases, and you shrug nonchalantly.
“I’m not that powerful, Kookie. I don’t have a chance of falling in love— I don’t have your charm,” you reply, only half joking.
That night, you’re chilling in Rena and Hyuna’s room when your phone buzzes with a message. Hyuna swoops in and grabs it, shrieking excitedly at the notification: “it’s from Jungkook!”
“What?” You scramble forward, nearly falling off the bed in a bid to steal your phone back.
“Have you listened to Newsies?” Hyuna reads aloud. “Only a music recommendation? Ugh, boring.”
You snatch your phone away. “Y’all are the worst, you know that?”
“Love you, y/n,” Rena replies dreamily.
You look down at your phone and your heart skips a beat: Jungkook is typing. And then stops. And starts again. And stops again. You’re growing so antsy that by the time he actually sends a message, you nearly drop your phone out of surprise.
Jungkook: hey save me a seat tomorrow on the bus ok?
You rub your eyes and type out a reply: ofc, who else tolerates my love for Dear Evan Hansen? You think for a moment before sending a follow up: although if we keep sitting together I think people will talk
Another buzz.
Jungkook: people already talk
You barely have time to take a shaky breath before a second message arrives.
Jungkook: can I ask u something
Moral support, you need moral support.
“Guys...?” You ask, your voice almost cracking from the tension. You know you’re overreacting, it’s only been two weeks, so why do you care so much about whatever he’s going to say? With your luck it’ll end up being, can you share your playlist? Do you have the sheet music? The girls crowd around you to read over your shoulder. “Wait, oh my god, wait, is he...?” Taeyeon squeaks excitedly.
“Shut up, shut up,” you implore, eyes locked on your screen. Once again Jungkook begins typing, stopping and starting multiple times, each time eliciting groans of frustration from your friends. “Ugh, never mind,” you throw your phone on the bed and faceplant onto Rena’s pillow, your heart thudding from anticipation.
“He’s typing again,” Rena says from behind you— how does she know your password?— “wait, he actually sent something this time... oh my god!” Your heart drops into your stomach. It’s probably something dumb, or maybe bad news: I heard people ship us and I think that’s awful, perhaps.
“Are you into me?” Rena reads aloud. “Y/n, what are you going to say?”
Oh, fuck. He really does want to set the record straight. “I-I don’t know.”
“What do you feel?” Hyuna urges. What do you feel? You feel flustered, so flustered when he accidentally brushes your hand or laughs in delight at something you’ve said. You feel delight at the conspiratorial whispers when you try to walk ahead or behind your small groups together, and the scandalized gasps when one of you spills the latest choir tea.
“I mean fine, maybe I like him a little,” you admit, to the shrieks of delight from your girlfriends. “But what if he’s asking because he doesn’t like me? I mean, it’s Jeon Jungkook! He could have literally anyone— I heard Nayeon had a crush on him last year— why the fuck would he like me?”
“You won’t know till you try.” Rena says, raising an eyebrow. “Tell him. And ask him, too.”
You take a deep breath and type out a response: Yes. Do you like me? You’re tempted to send a follow up, an apology, saying you don’t want to ruin your friendship with him, it’s okay if he thinks you’re weird, but you don’t get a chance before he responds.
Jungkook: Yeah. After these last few days, I really do.
A/N thank you for reading!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome and thoroughly appreciated. My inbox is always open, and I hope you enjoyed! (And if you didn’t, tell me anyways so I can improve!)
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