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jjngkook7 · 2 years ago

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Choices (4)

Werewolf Au! Jungkook x Reader / Enemies to Lovers [Angst and mature content. Not smut but almost smut.]

Summary: Jungkook finally found her. His mate. His lifelong partner. But she’s a human. Does he have to stay with her or can he stick it to whatever and whoever binds mates together and make his own decision?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

The sounds of wolves howling in the distance and twigs snapping nearby didn’t phase her because the drumming of her heart and Jungkook’s intense stare was all she could focus on. When Taehyung and Jennie found each other, they were so happy and were immediately in love. It felt like they had known each other their entire life. When Taehyung looked at Jennie, he always looked like he was in awe of her. Like he couldn’t believe that she was his. He held her like she was the most fragile thing in the world and spoke to her in the softest tone. She had just found out that her and Jungkook were mates but everything was wrong. He avoided her, looked at her with disdain and didn't want to touch her. The way he told her was void of affection or desire. Jungkook almost looked sick explaining their circumstances to her. She didn’t feel that great either. Jungkook was great to look at and made her physically feel things she had never felt before in all her relationships but he was unapproachable and made her so angry with how unpredictable he was.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

She didn’t reply, instead choosing to bask in the noises of the forest. With the sun set and no source of light nearby, it was pitch black. She could only see Jungkook’s amber eyes and even if she couldn’t see him, she’d know if he was close because she could feel him. She knew she should be terrified because of all the unknown creatures in the forest but Jungkook made her safe even if he basically hated her.

“I’m just confused about one thing.” she finally spoke.

She took Jungkook’s shift in his position as an answer.

“How do you know that we’re actually mates? I don’t know much but I’ve heard that when mates meet they instantly like fall...in love. We seem to just not be on the same page ever,” she hesitated before continuing, “and you seem to be avoiding me at all costs.”

Jungkook scoffed, “You should’ve stopped at, ‘I don’t know much’.”

And there it was. His attitude and hurtful comments only continuing to confirm that he hated her.

“You’re so-“ she dug her nails into her thighs, needing some sort of way to release her frustration, “you can’t put your arrogance aside for one minute? You’re right, I don’t know much about you or your world but I just don’t think we’re mates. You are too much of an asshole to even have one!”

Jungkook wanted to laugh at her attempt to make him feel bad. He had the ability to outrun a car and uproot trees yet she thought by calling him names she would make him feel any sort of way. On the other hand, Jungkook really did not know why he was being so stubborn. His goal was to get her to stay for a couple more days until it was safe for her to go home but he was pushing her closer to the edge with this conversation. He would have to circle back to getting her to stay but for right now, he was going to take advantage of the fact that he was able to see her crystal clear despite the darkness. With her being a human, her eyes couldn’t adjust to light and dark the way he can and that was okay for now. She was kind of cute all riled up. A little human angry at a werewolf in his own domain; even the tree stump she was sitting on was bigger than her. She looked cute with furrowed brows and a concentrated stare. Her bottom lip was all red from her biting it out of frustration and Jungkook didn’t like how that made him feel. He had taken notice of how hard she was digging her nails into her thighs and couldn’t help but imagine how easy it would be for him to leave marks of pleasure on her body. Jungkook blamed his upcoming heat for making him a slave to his lust and thanked the darkness for shielding his very obvious desire.

“Honestly Jungkook, I don’t care. Tell everyone I said thank you but I’m leaving.” she sighed, pushing herself off the stump.

She was determined to go home tonight no matter what. It was already hard admitting to herself that she was jealous of Jennie’s life but this was another kind of hurt she was not prepared for. She already felt like an outsider barging into what was an already established group but having someone that was supposed to be her soulmate who hated her was a full force punch to the gut. She thought about calling Jungkook more hurtful names just to get it out of her system but decided to conserve her energy. Besides, he didn’t care what she thought of him anyways.

“Do you know where to go?” she heard Jungkook ask.

She stopped in her tracks, embarrassed. In the midst of her anger, she forgot that they were in the middle of fucking nowhere and she couldn’t even see her own two hands in front of her. The hairs on her body stood when she heard a group of wolves howling in the distance. Not only did she not know where to go, she couldn’t see and she would most likely die if she went alone. Mirroring Jungkook’s pride, she didn’t turn around and took little fearful steps forwards. Her anger level was at a point of not caring if she got attacked because maybe then and only then would Jungkook feel bad. Jungkook held back his laugh as he watched her ball up her fists and walk in the wrong direction.

“You’re going the wrong way.” he teased in a singsong voice knowing that it was probably making her more and more irritated.

Jungkook planned on letting her embarrassment drag on for a little while until he heard her sniffling. He then started to feel a dull ache in his chest. This ache wasn’t as bad as the one from earlier but it was enough to make itself known. Combined with the sudden scent of salt, he realized she was crying again. Her crying was the one thing he couldn’t and didn’t want to deal with because he could feel all the pain she felt when she did. If she wanted to cry, he didn’t care but the fact that she also had to make him physically feel what she did was a problem. And pain? Emotional or physical, pain is the worst thing anyone could go through. In his case, it was also annoying because it wasn’t even his pain that he was feeling. Jungkook wouldn’t say he felt bad but he felt responsible for how she was currently feeling. He also wanted to stop the ache in his chest as soon as possible because it was a sensation he did not enjoy.

She felt so stupid crying but she couldn’t help it. She was so frustrated and confused and scared. She just wanted to go back home and stay in her bedroom for maybe half a year. As she strained her eyes to make out any shape in the darkness ahead, she felt Jungkook’s hand slip into hers and immediately had to shut her eyes due to how powerful the sensitivity from his touch felt. Bright orbs began to dance behind her eyelids and all the negative feelings from just seconds ago began to fade into oblivion. Jungkook had to take a deep breath himself just to regulate his own senses that were going into overdrive. He gently pulled her towards him and grabbed her other hand, placing both on his chest. She slowly opened her eyes hearing him whisper her name. Jungkook was looking at her with a gaze she had only seen on him with his pack. It was still so dark and she couldn’t make out a thing surrounding them, but his face was crystal clear in front of her. She could suddenly make out all the features of his face.

“This. This feeling,” Jungkook began to say, his eyes never leaving hers, “I know you feel it too.”

She nodded and felt the butterflies in her stomach swarm when she felt him squeezing both her hands.

“This is how I know we’re mates.” Jungkook finished, his voice barely a whisper.

Jungkook knew he had to pull away at some point but just feeling her felt so…good. His body felt warm and holding her made every muscle in his body relax. He slowly placed his forehead against hers and listened to her breathing. He noticed that both their hearts were beating at a steady pace and not racing. It was as if their bodies needed each other to calm down. Jungkook fought the urge to get closer and take her frame into the safety of his arms. The line between what his body instinctively wanted versus what Jungkook wanted was beginning to blur and he knew that he’d be playing a tricky game if he let this continue. The silent deal he made with himself of allowing them to be so close for just a few minutes began to slip when she pulled away from him slightly to look up at him. Their heartbeats continue to steady as their lips inched closer. A howl that seemed closer than it should be pulled Jungkook back into reality. He pulled away from her body and scanned the area cursing at how he left time get away.

“We have to go now.” he ordered, eyes fixated somewhere she couldn’t see.

The walk back to the cabin remained silent between them only this time she felt safe with Jungkook’s fingers still intertwined with hers.

__________________________________________

The next few days went by quickly. Jennie convinced her to stay for her whole break saying that it would be fun to spend Christmas and New Years with the pack. She agreed, realizing that if she said no, she would be all alone during the holidays as Jennie was her only friend. It was a sad realization because if she decided to go home, Jennie would still have a whole group of friends to be with while she would only have herself and Netflix. At least if she did go home, her body was now fully healed and she didn’t have to worry anymore about whether or not moving a certain body part was worth the pain.

“Don’t venture too far!” Mina said with a worried look.

She smiled and shook her head to reassure Mina. After much pleading and bargaining, Mina agreed to let her go out for a little walk as long as she didn’t go past a certain point in the forest and if she came back within the hour. Some of the pack members had left to go hunting while the rest were lounging in the living room barely paying attention to what was on the TV screen. She waved back to the members who were saying bye and only got a glimpse of Jungkook before walking out the door. His eyes were set straight at the TV, barely noticing her presence. She took a lung full of the crisp winter air before walking along the path directed by Mina.

The land the pack lived on was breathtaking. Situated on a hill, she only saw acres of the tops of trees and the city in the distance. The snow proved to be difficult to walk through as it engulfed her legs and by minute five, she was already panting and getting hot. Thankfully, if she did get lost, she could follow the trail she was leaving behind back to the cabin. She found herself going off the path Mina wanted her to stay on instead, making it back to the spot Jungkook and her were at a few nights ago. She pushed the pile of snow off the same tree stump she sat on that night and took a seat. This area was so beautiful and tranquil during the day. She closed her eyes and let her mind replay the events of that fateful night. After that night, Jungkook became more distant and cold. She hated how much she missed him and how much she wanted to just be near him. She had never felt so full and warm before in her life. It was as if all the puzzle pieces in her life fit when they touched. All her stress and anxiety were taken away in an instant because of him. She knew he felt the same way because he told her and also because of the way his eyes looked. They were kind and soft, void of any angst or anger. She opened her eyes and groaned at how embarrassed she felt despite being alone in the forest. She didn’t even know if she liked the guy but she liked the way he made her physically feel. Perhaps it was better this way. She knew that once she went home, she’d never see Jungkook ever again and whoever she ends up dating would never make her feel the way he did. It would only make things harder if they didn’t avoid each other. Until she went home, she’d keep this memory to herself and replay it in her head every chance she got.

Her body froze with fear when she heard a branch crack behind her followed by footsteps. Too afraid to turn around, she tried to quickly come up with an escape plan only to feel her heart sink remembering that if it was another rogue wolf, she would probably just die. As the footsteps got closer, she decided that her only escape plan was just to scream and hope that the pack members could hear her. When the footsteps sounding like they were right behind her, she finally turned around only to see Namjoon carrying firewood.

“Jesus Christ…” she gasped and clutched her chest.

Namjoon laughed and carefully placed the firewood on the ground before approaching her.

“Sorry I scared you. I thought taking small steps would make you feel less scared but I guess everything in this forest would be scary huh?” he smiled, “What are you doing out here alone anyways?”

She scooted over to make space on the tree stump for Namjoon. He gladly took a seat next to her, taking off the hat he was wearing and placing it on her head.

“I just needed some fresh air.” she answered, adjusting the beanie on her head.

“The guys too much for you?” Namjoon asked.

“Something like that.” she laughed.

“I’m sorry Jungkook’s being so difficult,” Namjoon sighed, “I’ve never seen a wolf so indifferent towards his mate.”

Her eyes widened as she looked over at Namjoon. Namjoon mirrored her wide eyes and covered his mouth as if he just told her something he shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry did you not know?” he asked, his voice muffled by his hand.

“No I know! I just didn’t know you knew.” she said.

In an instant, Namjoon’s concerned expression turned into one of amusement as he let out a laugh that would’ve echoed through the forest if it weren’t for all the snow. Namjoon patted her head and gave her an endearing smile.

“Of course I know. I’ve known Jungkook since he was very young and he’s not very good at hiding anything. Besides, I think everyone knows,” Namjoon’s eyes squinted in thought, “maybe not Jimin, he’s a little slow…or Yoongi but that’s probably because he doesn’t care.”

“Everyone?” she asked, her eyes still wide with shock.

Namjoon nodded and let out another sigh, “Jungkook is…he’s just having a hard time wrapping his head around this whole mate thing. You’ll just have to be a little more patient with him.”

She let Namjoon’s words process in her mind before speaking. Jungkook never explained to her why he was acting the way he was but she figured it was just probably because he didn’t like her very much. She wasn’t going to try to get him to like her because what would be the point. Besides, she was still trying to figure out her own feelings about him.

“It’s okay,” she answered, “he doesn’t have to like me. He can like anyone he wants.”

Namjoon shook his head and let out a chuckle only this time, it sounded forced.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that. It’s not about liking you or liking anyone, it’s about choice. His own choice. It has nothing to do with you.” Namjoon said. He looked over at her to find that her gaze was fixated on the snow below their feet.

“But it feels like it has everything to do with me.” she thought out loud.

Namjoon didn’t have the heart to confirm what she just said. He also didn’t feel like it was his place to have this conversation with her. Jungkook needed to learn how to handle this new territory and he had to quick before he hurt both of their feelings.

“Come on, you’re all red from the cold. Let’s go home.” Namjoon said, stretching his arms as he stood up.

He picked up the firewood he placed down earlier and took the lead. When her footsteps became faint, he turned around to check on her only to see her struggling to maneuver through the snow and keep up with his pace at the same time.

“Stop laughing at me!” she whined when she saw Namjoon laughing as he watched her make her way towards him.

“Get on my back.” he sighed, feigning annoyance.

She shook her head pointing out that he had to carry an armful of firewood and that she’d be okay. Namjoon countered this by reminding her that he was a werewolf. After more bickering, Namjoon resulted in using scare tactics and fabricating a story of how a rogue could get her. The same level as telling a child about how the bogeyman might come get them if they didn’t listen to their parents. She couldn’t say she was shocked at how stable Namjoon was carrying her on his back with the firewood in his arms but she was definitely impressed. She still had to learn how to accept this new reality that was once only in the fairy tales she read growing up.

“Why can’t you be my mate?” she groaned as she rested her head on Namjoon’s shoulder, “you’re so nice and Jungkook is such an ass.”

She heard Namjoon’s chest rumble with laughter, “That’s very nice but I’m taken.”

Lifting her head from his shoulders, she teased him with a series of “ooo’s” and “ahh’s”.

“Where is this mystery mate then?” she sang.

The laughter and fun was suddenly sucked out of the air when Namjoon became quiet and his pace slowed.

“She’s far away now.” was all he said before changing the topic.

By the time they made it back to the cabin, they were able to steer the conversation back to something more entertaining and pleasant. Jungkook tried his best to ignore her laughter and the fact that she was draped on Namjoon’s back but the tensing of his muscles and the veins protruding from his arms gave away his irritation. Jungkook's patience was at the edge when he started to taste blood from biting his tongue so hard when Namjoon entered the cabin spinning her around on his back. Her chimes of “Namjoon is so strong!” and “He carried me all the way home!” in response to Jennie and Mina’s concerns had him grinding his teeth. Oblivious to Jungkook’s body language, Jimin jumped up from the couch and pulled her away from Namjoon.

“I bet I can squat you!” Jimin chimed.

Everything happened so quickly. One minute Jungkook was seething on the couch and then he had Jimin pinned on the ground with his hand on Jimin's throat the next. He didn’t know what led him to do this. He thought it was the squeal that came out of her mouth when Jimin lifted her in his arms but perhaps it was the sight of her arms around Jimin’s neck and his hands around her waist that now had the older one gasping for air on the floor.

“What..the fuck!” Jimin gasped as Jungkook’s grip tightened.

Her and Jennie were backed against the wall, hands to their mouths as they watched the scene before them play out. Jungkook’s eyes were bright red and his canines had unsheathed themselves.

“Come on, let’s go.” Mina tried to shield her and Jennie from the sight as she ushered them to their bedrooms.

Her and Jennie walked down the hall hand in hand as Mina did her best to soothe them with her comforting voice despite being shaken up herself. The three of them flinched as a loud bang followed their leaving.

“Jungkook, off now!” Namjoon roared, trying to peel Jungkook off Jimin.

Jungkook heard his leader order him but his body didn’t want to listen. All he saw was red and he wanted to kill Jimin at that moment. He felt himself pull against Namjoon’s grip which only added more pressure to Jimin’s neck. Namjoon began to panic when he heard Jimin’s breath get shallower and shallower. Wolves were very defensive over their mates but something significant had to happen for something like Jungkook’s reaction. Knowing that he couldn’t get Jungkook to listen by force, Namjoon racked his brain to figure out another way to get Jungkook to listen. As Jungkook’s mind ran wild with rage, he heard Namjoon say her name.

“Do it for her. Don’t scare her even more than you already have.” Namjoon said, praying that this would work and not rile Jungkook up more.

Namjoon let out a sigh of relief when Jungkook released his hold on Jimin. Jimin’s head fell to the floor as the wolf tried to catch his breath. Namjoon noticed the slight tremble of Jungkook’s body as well as the veins protruding all over him. He gently took a hold of the youngest one's face and turned it towards him. Jungkook was breathing just as hard as Jimin and his shirt was damp from sweat. One look into Jungkook’s frantic red eyes was all Namjoon needed to see.

“Jungkook, you’re in heat.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook werewolf #bts werewolf #jimin #taehyung #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jin #choices #i-dont-give-a-fok #taeyongzodiacwinkiri

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

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Remember Me

Mark Lee X Reader X Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) | Smut, Fluff, Angst | 14k | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 2 OF 2. Part 1 is here.

Summary: “The mysterious cuts and bruises that suddenly appear are actually injuries that your soulmate has obtained, and you share the same marks on your skin.” For Donghyuck and Mark, it's not just an old saying, it's not merely a concept, it's the truth. But as they grow older in a world where everyone puts their faith in the marks that attach their hearts to their soulmates, they have to stop believing.

Notes: This used to be an EXO Fanfic of mine called Remember Me but I want to share this story with my NCT family as well, so I rewrote several things and added more scenes to fit Mark and Haechan’s personalities better.

It takes Lee Donghyuck approximately ten times to ask Mark Lee to join their soccer game before he realizes that maybe Mark just really hates playing soccer. Or just doing sports in general, for that matter.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to!” Mark shouts, cheeks reddening in anger. Donghyuck holds up both hands in the air, backing away. Mark is twenty-one years-old while Donghyuck is a year younger. Since Mark needed to be treated at the facility for his injuries back when he was in high school, he had to repeat another year and so he registered late in his new university in Seoul. Seeing how he’s a freshman like him with no friend other than Zhong Chenle in college, Donghyuck thinks they should get along better. Donghyuck has always been friendly and nice to anyone around him—Yukhei would agree on this straight away—but sadly, not everyone replies to him in the same way.

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing softly at Mark’s little burst of anger. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe you wanted to play because, you know, you kept looking at us—”

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark harshly responds, tearing his gaze away from the other boy to glance at the girl who owns his heart since forever. “Well, I wasn’t actually looking at you anyway.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at Mark’s last line that’s almost too quiet to hear. He’s pretty sure that Mark kept stealing glances at the field a moment earlier, so if it weren’t because of Donghyuck and Yukhei playing soccer with their upperclassmen, who was he staring at?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says anyway, and he means it even when his tone sounds too playful. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can just come over, okay?”

“I don’t do soccer,” Mark bitterly responds as he picks up his book back and places it on his lap. “Now can you leave me alone, please? I want to read in silence.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose at his attitude but decides to be the better man. “Alright,” he says, giving him the space he needs. “My name’s Lee Donghyuck, by the way. Nice to meet you, Grumpy Pants!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin before he runs back to the field. Mark Lee is unapproachable, but that only makes him more interesting to Lee Donghyuck.

***

It takes eleven minutes after the whistle has been blown for Donghyuck to score his third goal that day and she cheers loudly with her hands in the air before she realizes that she’s supposed to stare at her crush secretly. She clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart as she sits back on the bleachers. Her eyes are still following the boy with the number 66 on the back of his jersey and her heart warms when she sees how his fluffy brown hair flutters under the wind.

That boy’s name is Lee Donghyuck. He’s one year younger than she is and he’s probably the brightest, and the funniest person she has ever met. He’s a bit weird, though, because every time he talks to her, he always speaks like he has known her for his whole life. And he does look familiar somehow, but she can’t remember why.

Last spring was the first time she met him. She was looking around the campus’ ground, getting to know the environment better before she enrolled in the university by the next semester. And then a ball hit her on the head, making her tumble to the ground.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?” A boy ran to her with a familiar smile and beautiful sun-kissed skin that glistened slightly with sweat. He helped her stand on her own feet and kept apologizing for two times more until he saw her face and began to shout her name over and over again, voice getting louder each time.

“Holy shit, it’s really you! I can’t believe this!” Without permission, he suddenly leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he laughed wholeheartedly. “Jesus Christ, Noona, it’s been years!” He was crushing her with his hug and she felt strange, afraid even. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again! I’ve been looking for you every—”

Out of fear and discomfort, she hastily pushed him away. “D-don’t touch me!” she said, backing away and a wounded look fell upon his face.

“N-noona, it’s me,” he said, attempting to calm her down by reaching out a hand. “It’s me, Donghyuck. We used to play together, remember? At the beach? In Jeju?”

Frowning was her response and nothing more, not remembering his identity at all and that made her sad because that boy seemed like he was really hoping for her to remember him. “I’m—I’m sorry but I don’t know you,” she said and the boy seemed heartbroken for a few seconds before he shook his head and smiled brightly once more.

“Oh wow, then this must’ve been super awkward.” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head before he offered her his hand. She could tell he was shaken up by it but he didn’t make it seem obvious. “I’m Lee Donghyuck. I’m sorry for being so weird. You just remind me so much of my old friend. But I got your name right, didn’t I?”

She nodded her head once, shaking his hand. “How do you know my name?”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit psychic,” Donghyuck replied, grinning boyishly and something stirred in her heart. She felt like she knew him but at the same time, she didn’t. It was weird but Donghyuck never worried about such a matter. He kept on talking to her, sporting his cheery grins and beautiful eye-smile as he did and his presence somehow filled the pang that had been so hollow in her heart.

“Yo, Sleepyhead!” Wong Yukhei calls as he scurries over to her side. He’s breathing hard, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple. The man is 183cm tall with silky dark brown hair and a voice deeper than any man she’s ever known. “What’cha doin’, girl? Been here long?”

“Hey, Yukhei,” she greets with a smile, offering him her canned orange juice and Yukhei drinks it in one gulp without hesitation. “Just hanging out. Did you guys win?” she asks, trying to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to the game (which is somewhat true because she only paid attention to Donghyuck).

“Oh, come on, we all know you were watching the game,” Yukhei says as he flops down next to her seat. “Or were you watching me?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Wong Yukhei is always blatant with his flirting but nobody ever takes him seriously. It’s common knowledge that Yukhei never wants to have a relationship with anyone other than his Soulmate. People tend to date anyone they want while they wait for their Soulmates to appear but Yukhei is a different case. Yukhei only wants the girl who owns the same scar as he has on his wrist.

“Hey, just a friendly advice here,” Yukhei says, “I know you really really really like Hyuck but fucking hell, woman, do you really need to stare at him all day long with that dopey, lovesick look on your face?”

“Hey!” She hisses, slapping his back. “Shut up, okay? And I wasn’t staring at him. I was watching the game.”

“Sureeee,” Yukhei slurs the last syllable. “Then what’s the score? No peeking at the scoreboard.”

She can’t answer. Seeing how Yukhei keeps on mocking her, she eventually sighs and buries her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“So obvious. Too obvious, even.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Honey, I think even my grandma knows you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my God,” she sobs to her hands and when she lifts her face, her cheeks are in flame. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t date him anyway, Not until I’m sure that he’s my Soulmate.”

Yukhei furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were like me.”

“I just think it’s a safer option, you know?” She utters, huffing to the air. “Why would you waste your time dating someone who’s not your Soulmate when you know it’s not gonna work out in the end? Better choose the one so you won’t hurt anyone.”

Yukhei nods proudly and pats her head. “I feel you, Sister. I feel you.”

“Shut up, you’re gross,” she says, punching Yukhei playfully by his shoulder but the said man groans loudly and dramatically acts like she just struck his arm with a javelin. Yukhei stands up and barks, “Sure, when it’s Wong Yukhei, you go around and punch him like a sag of potatoes but when it’s Lee Donghyuck, you worship him like a freaking Greek God! Real fair, Sweetheart, real fair!” Then he throws a flying kiss toward her direction before she has the chance to actually kill Wong Yukhei. She just hopes that Donghyuck didn’t hear him.

She sits back on the bleachers, her heart thumping loudly but Donghyuck never stares back. He’s always like that when he’s too focused on his game. It’s part of his charm, really.

It’s only Mark Lee who does, staring at her from across the field. He’s a fellow freshman she once met at the library, helping her with finding her books. She always thinks he looks kind of familiar as well but she doesn’t know why. Perhaps some kind of a déjà vu?

She didn’t see him sitting there before (her eyes were too focused on Donghyuck, like always) and Mark never really goes out of his class at break times anyway. He used to always spend his days in the library, working there and reading suspense or science-fiction novels even when he’s read them a thousand times already. This is the first time she’s ever seen him out on the field. Perhaps he’s watching the game too?

She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Hey, library guy!” she mouths, grinning but Mark never mirrors her smile in the same way. He always seems sad, she notices, like he’s trying to achieve something but something forbids him from doing so. She wonders what he craves so badly that he has to force himself away from enjoying his life like he’s supposed to.

***

It’s twelve past twelve on a Sunday afternoon when Zhong Chenle passes a watermelon to Mark’s lap and speaks, “Bro, I know it’s not my business but your ex-girlfriend has a huge crush on that kid Lee Donghyuck.”

With a knife in his hand, ready to slice the watermelon into small pieces, Mark freezes and looks at Chenle with heavy pressure in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude!” Chenle immediately backs away, gulping when he realizes he just made Mark upset when the man is holding a knife in his hand. “Be careful with that shit, okay? You look like you’re about to kill someone!”

“Not someone, just you,” Mark replies, looking away and begins to slice the fruit.

Chenle takes his seat back with more caution in his steps, just in case. “Look, Mark, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“A bit too late for that,” Mark replies, jabbing the knife into the fruit, and Chenle almost shrieks, fidgeting on his seat. The Chinese boy winces a little as he prepares to receive a strike from his friend but it never came. Instead, his friend throws him a small smile and Chenle knows Mark’s been kidding around. Chenle can never understand his sense of humor.

“You have a terrible sense of humor, has anyone ever told you that?” He calms his heart down. “You’re still not over her, huh?” Chenle asks, receiving a freshly cut watermelon from the slightly shorter guy. Mark doesn’t answer him and instead, he grabs his own piece of watermelon and strolls over to lounge on the couch. The sun is blazing outside, sitting on its throne, and burns everything considering it’s the middle of summer and even with this thin layer of clothes he’s wearing, Mark just can’t stop sweating.

“Dude?” Chenle calls, following him to the couch, and steals a glance at him. Mark is just there, sitting and staring at the fruit without doing anything much other than breathing. “Hello? Earth to Mark, you alright there, buddy?”

Mark slowly moves his gaze back at him and for the first time in forever, he pulls on a gentle, but heartbreaking smile. “I would’ve gotten over her if I could but it’s hard.”

Chenle hums quietly. “You guys loved each other that much, huh?”

“Loved?” Mark chuckles, proffering his piece of watermelon to his friend’s hand in case Chenle wants more. He does. “It wasn’t just love. She was my everything.” The Chinese boy snorts at that but he can actually sense the truth behind Mark’s words, which is why Chenle chooses to stay mute. “I was about to propose to her, you know?” Mark confesses, crestfallen. “We were nothing but stupid brats going on about love and crappy things like that and I had this stupid ring with me that I wanted to give her. I was about to make a promise to be with her forever. I didn’t care whether she was my Soulmate or not. I didn’t care if we were too young to be engaged. I just loved her so much—I still do but…”

But she forgot about you, Chenle wants to say but he decides to keep himself in silence. While Mark was hurting physically during that period after the accident, she was losing her mind. She had recurring nightmares and she lost almost every part of her memories. She lost her childhood, she lost her friends, and most of all, she lost him. She couldn’t see Mark. He never existed in her world. Her loss of memories had helped her to recover quicker than him and her parents also made her go to many therapy sessions in her last few months at the hospital. She’s now healthy and happy and Mark is grateful for that but, of course, a huge part of him died with her that night before the first snow fell upon their smiles.

Chenle forms a question after a while. “Why don’t you try and approach her again, then? You know, start over. Maybe she could fall in love with you again.”

Mark absentmindedly touches the skin around his nape. “It’s better this way,” he says, smiling weakly to the ground. “She’s happier without me in her life.”

“But you’re hurting,” Chenle counters. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna get better tomorrow if you keep being like this.”

“You’re right, I’m never gonna get better.” Mark laughs softly. “I’m gonna remember this forever and I’m gonna live through this every day. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I remember is how I agreed to go with her to town that night. If I hadn’t gone to her grandmother’s place, if I hadn’t gone with her outside—”

Chenle shakes his head. “You didn’t know what would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark shouts breathlessly, his hand going over his heart. “It happened and I lost her. That’s it, Chenle. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Chenle looks conflicted and hesitant for a few seconds before he reaches out and pats Mark on the shoulder. “Everything will get better,” he says, trying to spread joy to his friend. “You’ll forget her when you meet your Soulmate. Try to live your life like me, buddy. No good will come from worrying over things that have been done.”

Mark returns his smile but his eyes stay cold.

His dreams always consist of her smile and how her eyes once turned crescents when she whispered, “I love you too, Mark Lee.” His dreams always reel in the way she held him close that night, how she wanted to make him feel happy, how she wanted to be with him, how much she missed and loved him.

It never happens in real life anymore. Mark Lee never existed in her life that way. And that is why Mark stops waking up with a smile on his face.

“Chenle,” Mark starts, “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Who, Donghyuck? Yeah, he’s cool. Gets pretty whiny and annoying most of the times, but—”

“There’s something I want you to tell him.”

“O… kay…” Chenle is startled by the sudden gravitas in his tone. “What is it?”

“She believes in Soulmates,” Mark says, smiling to himself and somehow Chenle can see the disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. So if he doesn’t have the same scar, it’s better for him to just stay away since he’ll end up hurting them both in the future.”

Chenle analyzes his friend’s expression but he’s still left clueless. “And you’re okay if he turns out to be the one for her?”

Mark glances at him, smiling while his eyes show nothing but a pang of guilt and pain. “At this point, Chenle,” he murmurs, “I actually wish for it to happen.”

***

“So she believes in Soulmates too, huh?” Donghyuck asks, his shoulders are slumped forward in disappointment. It’s Friday the 13th and while everyone is feeling spooked out over the infamous urban legend, Donghyuck is feeling upset over an entirely different reason. “Damn it!”

Yukhei snorts. “Dude, everyone believes in Soulmates; it’s only you who don’t. It’s basically, like, written in the law or something.” When Donghyuck shoots him a look, Yukhei just huffs. “All I’m saying is it’s not just a myth, dude. This shit happens.”

Donghyuck knows that but he’s really interested in her—well, he’s always been interested in her, since back then when they were young even. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d be able to meet her again but well, luck is apparently on his side. Not that much, though, because she forgot about what they used to have. Donghyuck learned along the way that she’d gotten into an accident in high school and that was how she lost her memories. He understands the situation and he’s willing to restart everything again because even after all this time, Donghyuck still likes her. And for these past few months, Donghyuck has become so close to her once again and it’s like they’re back to that time where they used to play together on the beach with sands under their feet. She still smiles and gazes at him in the way she did back then and Donghyuck thinks her beauty lasts for eternity.

She even said one time, as he was trying to catch his breath after his soccer practice, that he reminded her of the sun, the way he shone so brightly when he played on the field, how his every movement and smile drew attention from the crowd.

“You should be called Haechan,” she said sheepishly, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “I think it fits you more. What do you think?”

His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t believe that even when she had lost her memories, she still repeated the same thing in the exact same way. So Donghyuck swallowed hard, trying his best to appear nonchalant, and said, “I think that’s the stupidest pet name someone has ever given to me, but it’s okay. You can call me that.”

It would be great if they could be something more. But well, if she believes in Soulmate and if Donghyuck turns out to not be the one she’s waiting for then they probably shouldn’t start anything to begin with.

“This whole Soulmate thing sucks balls!” Donghyuck whines, kicking a pebble stone to the side of the street as he walks next to his tall friend on the sidewalk. “I really want to try and be with her, you know? I didn’t try anything back then because we were too young to understand our feelings but now we’re older and I really, really like her but God-fucking-dammit, Yukhei, what if I’m not her Soulmate? What if she won’t accept me?”

Yukhei pats his friend on the back. “Well, you still have your chance, Hyuck. Maybe someday, she’ll fall and bruise her knees or something and you’ll get the same scar—her scar. Who knows, right? Maybe you are her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck doesn’t put a lot of wish on that. He’s never much of a believer anyway. “She doesn’t seem to have scars now, though,” he says, “So how can we tell who her Soulmate is?”

“But you don’t have scars too, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“Donghyuck-Hyung!” A skinny boy with fluffy blond hair, calls from somewhere behind him. Donghyuck turns around and grins when he sees the boy approaching him. “Hey, asswipe! What’s up?”

“I told you not to call me that.” But Chenle reciprocated by giving him his personal high five. After a quick chatter, Chenle drops his smile and displays a solemn look on his face. “Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

***

It’s on the next day, June 14th, when Donghyuck literally steals Yukhei’s key (he thinks Yukhei wouldn’t mind anyway) and drives his motorcycle for less than a mile, heading south. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. Since he heard what Chenle told him yesterday, Donghyuck has been so anxious. He needs to see her now and he needs to see her fast.

That afternoon isn’t actually chilly, but Donghyuck brings his black leather jacket with him—just for luck. He wears a thin white shirt underneath it and a black full covered helmet on his head. He’s brought another helmet with him, not caring about the possibility of her rejecting his proposal of an impromptu date. Donghyuck has always been that confident.

Getting the address of her house isn’t actually easy, but it’s not the hardest question in the world either. When he stops in front of her house, his wristwatch says it’s 02.14 p.m. He still has enough time to go watch a movie with her and have dinner together—if she agrees to go on a date with him in the first place.

Jumping out from his—or rather, Yukhei’s—motorcycle, Donghyuck takes off his helmet and ruffles his short hair, pushing back his fringe with his lean fingers. He doesn’t say it often but he thinks he looks a bit hotter when his forehead shows and if he’s going to charm this girl off her feet, he needs all the luck he can get. And that is why he’s putting his RayBan sunglasses on too.

He picks up his phone and dials her numbers. She answers on the second ring and it’s cute that her “Hello?” sounds more like a panic shout rather than a friendly greeting. “Hey, baby,” Donghyuck jokes with a grin, but it makes her gasp. He hears her stutter out his name in return. “Can you go out to your balcony for me?”

“W-why?” she asks, a bit breathlessly for some reason. Donghyuck secretly hopes his voice is the reason behind it. He likes to think he has that effect on her, because sometimes, when she wears her floral blue shirt combined with her white skirt, she has that same effect on him as well. That feeling of needing to breathe when you’re already breathing. It’s weird but he likes it.

“Just do it, please?” he begs, even displaying his puppy eyes though he knows she won’t be able to see them.

“Umm... O-okay then…”

A moment later, she appears on her veranda, wearing a short, casual navy blue summer dress with a white collar that looks like a sailor’s. Her hair is untied, flowing over her shoulders and Donghyuck can already tell that she’s about to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ears. He always loves it when she does that. He’ll love it even more if one day she gives him the chance to do it for her.

“Umm, I’m already out,” she nervously mumbles out, pushing her locks to the back of her ear. Her phone is strapped to her ear and she examines her surrounding until her eyes land on the man who’s leaning on a (stolen) bike.

“Hey,” Donghyuck smiles that one smile he knows could drive women crazy. He adds this thing with his eyebrows just in case she’s not affected by his smirk. “So, I woke up this morning and I thought of you. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

She gapes, her cellphone almost slides down from her hand. “I-I’m—” Even Donghyuck can see her blush from under there. “Donghyuck-ah, I—”

“How many times should I tell you?” Donghyuck sighs, playfully sending her a glare. “Just call me by that name you gave me.”

“D-didn’t you say it was stupid?”

“It’s stupid because it makes me feel special.” And he doesn’t lie, not in the slightest. “You make me feel special.”

Her face burns even more. “Look, I don’t think I can go—” She takes a look behind her, worriedly glancing to her room. “I’m supposed to stay in my room and—”

“Have you ever broken any rules before?” Donghyuck asks and if she hadn’t lost her memories, she’d say yes and tell him that that’s the exact reason why she got into that accident. But this new version of her only gnawed at her lip worriedly. “Come on, Noona. You don’t need to tell your parents.” He’s extremely persuasive, especially with that signature eyebrow-raise of his with his eyes twinkling mischievously after he took off his sunglasses. “Just come with me. I’ll take you back home before they even know you’re gone.”

It’s tempting. Donghyuck’s offers are always tempting and he looks really good in that leather jacket while sporting his messy pushed-back hair. She once thought Donghyuck looked the best wearing his soccer jersey on the field because he appeared so young and boyish that way. But this. This exact style. He reeks of masculinity and pure sex—

“Are you coming?” Donghyuck snaps her away from her reverie. She continues nibbling on her lip in anxiety, looking back again before she glances at the boy once more. “Okay, yes,” she finally says and Donghyuck tries not to jump and stab the air in victory. “I can’t go down from the stairs, though. My father’s in the living room.”

“Well then, jump,” he simply says, walking closer until he stands just below her balcony and tries to be as quiet as possible as he strolls through the bushes. “Come on, Noona. Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“T-there’s no way I can do that!” Her cheeks spark bright red. “I’m wearing a dress!”

“Well then, I’ll close my eyes.” He spreads his arms wide to catch her and simply closes his eyes like he said. “See?”

“How are you planning to catch me when you can’t even see me?!” She protests and Donghyuck wants to laugh because her shrieking voice is so pleasantly cute.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, opening his eyes again just to gaze straight into her eyes. “I won’t let you fall. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in the tone he uses lights a spark in her chest. “O-of course.”

“Then trust me.” Donghyuck smiles again and shuts his eyes closed. “Now jump.”

She still hesitates, thinking this over and over again with her hand pressed nervously against her chest. Finally, she decides to just get this over with. “I’m—I’m a bit heavy, though.”

“You’re not heavy, you’re pretty,” Donghyuck smoothly says and on any other occasion, she would have laughed because that’s probably the worst line to say at the moment. “Now come on. Jump.”

“But Haechannie—”

“Jump!”

And she does. With a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, she jumps in her sailor dress with only her phone being held in her hand. She’s about to yelp but the fall is too fast that it ends before she can scream. True enough, Donghyuck manages to catch her with his arms and she falls with a small ‘oof’ to his chest.

“Hello Kitty panties?” Donghyuck teases, his spine being pressed against the ground and although it does hurt a little, everything is worth it since she is now lying on top of him. “Really, darling?”

She gapes, blushing madly, and lands a small slap on his chest to cover her embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t look!” She makes too much rustling noises over the fuss, while Donghyuck tries to contain his laughter. He would’ve let her hit him again if he didn’t hear someone’s footsteps closing on them.

Her father is now walking through the front door.

Donghyuck does the most brilliant thing to do at the moment—according to him anyway—which is to roll to his side and hide both of their bodies behind the bushes. She ends up lying on the ground with Donghyuck’s body covering her. He holds her head close to his chest so she won’t knock herself on the ground. Her ear is pressed against his heart and she cannot focus when Donghyuck pulls her closer and warns her with a whisper, “Be quiet...”

Her father doesn’t take a detailed look around the place, probably wondering whether it was just the neighbor’s cat doing noisy things as always. He ends up leaving after picking up the newspaper that he forgets to retrieve in the morning.

When the sound of the front door being closed reaches their ears, they both let out a relieved sigh. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to die,” Donghyuck says, laughing when he sees her holding back her smile. “Your hair’s a mess.” He reaches out a hand and fixes her fringe and that’s when she realizes that she’s in such proximity to his face and she’s literally lying underneath him.

She immediately pulls away and stands up properly before she slightly bows with her face blazing hot. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you like that—”

“Hey, relax,” Donghyuck says, cleaning the dirt off his ripped jeans as he stands up as well. “It was my fault. And I was enjoying every second of it anyway so...” He grins that familiar boyish smile of his and although she pouts and pushes him playfully by the shoulder, inside her thumping heart, she feels alive.

“I can’t believe you saw my panties,” she mutters, fixing her hair as her cheeks continue to burn. “So embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Her face is about to explode. “You promised you’d close your eyes!”

“I didn’t.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrow once in a teasing manner. “I only promised you I’d catch you. And I did, right? I didn’t let you fall.”

She looks away, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “Y-yes. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, come on,” Donghyuck says, taking her hand without permission (not that she’d mind) and guides her to his—Yukhei’s—ride. “I’m thinking of relishing our childhood memories and—” he stops when he sees her frowning and he looks flustered because, “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t remember.” His voice is quiet before he gets a grip of himself and clears his throat. “What I want to say is, there are two choices you can choose: First, it’s a safe option where we go out to the movies, choose whatever it is that’s lame enough so you’ll get bored and start talking to me during the play—hey, stop laughing!” Donghyuck pokes her on the cheek when she giggles at his words. “And then we’ll get dinner afterward before I take you home. Or second, and this is the more daring one, we go to the nearest beach and see whatever the hell that’s going to happen there and just let God decides where we go next.” He gives her another spare of his helmet. “So what do you wanna do?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, just to build the hype, before she says, “I’ll go with the second option.”

“Well, I am hurt,” Donghyuck mutters. “You just thought talking to me during the movie would be boring, didn’t you? You’ve underestimated my interpersonal skills, woman.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, grinning as she sits behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m just worried that you’re gonna order pizza for dinner and I don’t think that’s gonna be romantic.”

“Ah, so you want our situation to be romantic, do you?” Donghyuck teases, her plan backfires. “I knew you’ve always had the hots for me.”

Her jaw hangs low on her blushing face. “That’s not what I—” And her words end up with a scream when Donghyuck suddenly drives off. She winds her arms tighter around his waist and Donghyuck laughs because she’s adorable in the way he finds to be the cutest form possible.

To her, this is the first date she’s ever experienced. She has never been with anyone before him and she likes Donghyuck so much because he seems so carefree and fun, while on the other side, dangerous and unpredictable. He’s a bit four-dimensional and she wants to know what’s hidden more under those multilayer personalities of his. But what attracts her the most is how she feels familiar and safe in his presence. She feels like she can trust him as if she’s known him for her whole life.

Had the accident never happened, she would’ve noticed how different Donghyuck is if being compared with her past boyfriend, Mark Lee. While Donghyuck is impulsive and daring, Mark has always been the cautious one. Mark is the guy who pays attention to every little thing that happens to her—even when she doesn’t realize it herself. While Donghyuck, on the other hand, is that person who desires simplicity. The boy who says, “I want you” instead of “I need you”. And that’s entirely different than how Mark, the boy who offers commitment and loyalty, had promised her once.

But memory is just a memory. Donghyuck used to live in the shadows of her mind, but now he’s alive and there’s no way he’s going to let her go for the second time.

It’s time for Mark to stay in the darkness and just let go of what he used to have.

This time, the table has turned.

***

Mark Lee sighs for the fifteenth time that day because his mother keeps on pestering him to go back to his daily therapy session but he’s not having any of it. Not today. He’s already tired of having to go to the doctor every day only to hear the line, “There hasn’t been many changes but don’t worry, we’ll get you better soon, Mark,” or maybe in some better days like yesterday, he got a “Good news, Mark! We can start the surgery by the end of the week! That is, of course, if you’re willing to follow the procedures and healthy enough to undergo the surgery.”

Mark is scared to his bones but he doesn’t tell anyone that. Being consumed with fear isn’t something he wants to be proud of and he knows that it won’t do anything other than making people worry about him more. He’s had enough of that. So he just smiles and tries to get better for his mother.

Not today, though. Today, he needs to let go.

This is why tonight, he puts on his sweater and strolls out of his house without telling anyone. He rarely breaks any rules but today, he just wants to get out and breathe the outside air as much as he wants to. He takes a deep breath and with trembles in his fingers, he reaches out for his brother’s bicycle. The memory of the accident is still clear in his head but he’s already promised himself he’d move on. And this is him, moving on.

He rides the bicycle slowly, still remembering to take care of his condition. He keeps pedaling until he reaches her new address. They used to live next to each other, but after the accident that happened with Mark, her family thought that it’d be better if they stay as far as possible from each other. But here he is now, standing in front of her gate with an anxious heart and shaky fingers, just like how it was when he picked her up for their first date.

Mark weakly smiles to himself. “Just say your goodbye and leave, Mark. Just do that and move on.”

He presses the doorbell and waits.

A moment later, she comes out wearing a knitted sweater Mark once gave her for their second anniversary and that sight of her made him feel like the earth is sinking below him. Why is she wearing that? He screams in his mind, as his eyes grow wide. As far as Mark knew, her parents tried to keep every little bit of Mark away from her, to keep her safe just in case it’d bring something painful to her shattered memories. Her mother probably mistook it for her own sweater and that was why she didn’t throw it away.

“I’ll call you later, okay, Haechannie?” she says, giggling to her cellphone as she walks toward the fence that separates her from him. “I know. Of course, I’ll brush my teeth. I’m not you.” She laughs quietly, muttering ‘one sec’ to Mark as she tries to drag open the gate. “Okay, hey, I really need to go. Someone’s here.”

Mark tries to stop the wounded look from appearing on his face. Someone, Mark thinks, smiling bitterly. She doesn’t even know my name.

“I’ll call you—” Then she laughs again, her cheeks getting red and Mark secretly hopes that it’s because of the cold, and not over Donghyuck’s words from the other side of the line. “Yes, okay, good night. I’ll see you later, Haechannie. Bye.” Then she shuts her phone and looks at Mark apologetically. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend just kept on babbling,” she explains, chuckling in embarrassment. “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

Her laughter still sounds as airy and adorable in his ears and Mark tries to erase the sickening feeling in his gut after knowing that he’s no longer the reason behind her laughter.

“Hi, uhh…” Mark rubs his nape, clearing his throat. “You probably don’t remember me, but umm—we’ve met at the library? I helped you with your books.”

She frowns for a few seconds before her eyes light up. “Ah!” She exclaims, smiling widely at him. “You’re the library guy! Hi, yes, of course, I remember you.”

Library guy. He can’t take it anymore. “It’s Mark,” he murmurs.

She blinks. “What?”

“My name,” he says, louder this time. His fingers are curling into fists on the sides of his jeans. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” she says, throwing another heartwarming smile as she offers him her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mark Lee.” The way she says his name still feels natural to his ears, which only makes him suffer harder. She tells him her name, wanting to give him a firm handshake.

“I already know your name,” Mark says, and somehow his tone seems cold. She drops her hand with a surprised look on her face. Mark wonders whether she sees the dejected look he displays on his face because her smile vanishes completely and she seems utterly heartbroken. To her, Mark looks exactly like Donghyuck used to stare at her sometimes—that look when someone wishes to be remembered. She doesn’t know what happened in the past but she knows she’s hurting him somehow.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I have… I have a bad memory so… If we’ve met before and I can’t remember you, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Mark wants to slap himself on the face for being so selfish. He just hurt her again. She doesn’t even know him and he just hurt her again. “No, it’s not that,” Mark hurriedly explains with a reassuring smile. “I know you because I once saw you writing down your name when you borrowed the book. I work at the library, remember?”

She blinks twice before she lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh... Right…” she utters, smiling to herself. “Well, I… Thanks for helping me out back then.”

She looks just as beautiful as she used to when she snuggled up against him on the couch. Mark brings his hands into the pocket of his jeans so he won’t accidentally stroke her cheek or lace their fingers together. “No problem.”

“So, what’s up?” she chirps and Mark realizes he needs to find a better excuse than this is probably the last time I can see you and that’s why I want to say goodbye properly.

“It’s umm…” It’s painful for him having to lie straight to her face like this. He never once lied in front of her when they were together but now that they’re living separate lives with no connections to each other, it feels like that’s what he’s been doing all the time. Just lying, forcing himself to smile, distancing himself from everyone, and pushing himself to say her name effortlessly even when the pain in his chest is overwhelming. “Nothing important, really,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I just came here to remind you that you need to return the book by tomorrow.”

“What? Oh!” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “You’re right! Oh God, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

Mark only smiles back and his eyes are soft and gentle. “No problem. It’s my job anyway.”

She laughs a bit. “Such a hardworking young man. Next time you could just call me, you know? You don’t have to come over to my house. It’s freezing.” The way she talks is always fascinating to see and hear. Her smile never leaves her face and her hands are constantly moving animatedly every time she opens her mouth. Mark can actually feel his heart racing at the sight of her. “Oh, look at that.” She announces, glancing at Mark’s hands that are starting to go red from the cold. “You’re not wearing any gloves. Wait for a sec, will you? I’ll get you some!” And she hurries back into her house before he can stop her.

When she comes out a moment later, she carries a pair of her gloves (Mark remembers well the salmon pink color and the white stripes at the end of it) and her cheeks glow in a darker shade of red when she says, “These are mine but they’re a couple of sizes bigger on me so I hope they’ll fit.” She tucks his hands inside the gloves exactly like that time before Mark pushed her against the fence and poured his feelings against her lips. When she’s finished, she also asks, “There. Better?”

Mark can’t stop himself from feeling hurt. It’s like his heart is being ripped apart and he can’t do anything to prevent it. Before he knows it, his eyes grow hot and his vision starts to blur. He doesn’t let his tears fall though. He quickly covers it with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says and she smiles back, squeezing Mark’s hand in a friendly way before she lets go.

“You’re welcome,” she cheerfully says. “By the way, Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mark smiles while his heart is breaking. If he closes his eyes right now, will the earth swallow him whole?

“So, Mark Lee,” she begins, leaning her back to the fence. “Is there anything else you want to remind me of? Did I forget to pay for the book or something?”

There’s a lot of things he wants to remind her about. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice when he confessed to her, the taste of their first kiss, everything. But every little joyful memory he has of her will only inflict pain on her behalf so he holds himself back. Mark laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re okay,” he says, staring at her with a gentle smile constantly displayed on his lips.

After a while, she playfully raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but at that moment, he reaches out his hand and pushes her bangs out of her eyes, just like how he used to do back then. She freezes on her feet, her eyes growing wide, her breathing stalls.

“I’m—” Mark splutters. “I’m sorry, I just—” He panics, his hand going over his chest, feeling his heart thumping fast and it begins to hurt—more than anything he can ever bear. “I’m so sorry.” And he turns around, carrying his bicycle with him before he pedals away through the night. His heart is screaming with more pain for the distance he puts between them.

She stands there on the ground with parted lips. Her eyes are fixed on Mark’s back as he drives away and then suddenly, a tear slips out from the corner of her eye.

“Oh…” She falls to her knees, hugging herself with her arms as she cries and cries and cries harder over something she doesn’t even know what. She just feels so hurt, as if something is tearing every bit of her heart apart. She covers her mouth as she sobs louder. Breathing becomes hard, just as hard as she tries to explain why is she feeling like this. Why does she feel like someone is leaving her? Someone very important, just like a piece of her soul. What is happening?

“Honey!” Her mother comes out with shock written on her face and cradles her into her arms. “Darling, what happened?”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what to say. She just feels like dying. She just feels like she can’t breathe.

It’s as if a promise had just been broken and there’s nothing left of it to reminisce.

Mark stops and jumps off his bike the second he makes a turn a few meters away from her house. His hand is curling against the front of his shirt while the other one is holding him up from not lying flatly on the ground. He’s on his knees and he coughs to the cold night, gasping as if he was on the edge of losing his life. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and everything feels like knives, piercing through his skin.

He was so close. For a moment there, Mark saw her looking at him like she remembered him. She’s not supposed to remember him.

It hurts and Mark can’t fight his tears back anymore. He cries.

***

Donghyuck is staring at the latest episode of his favorite drama on channel 16 with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he places his head on top of his girlfriend’s lap. They were in Donghyuck’s dorm room, specifically on his single-sized bed and she’s there, stroking his hair softly because Yukhei is out playing basketball with the new Chinese student and that means they can have quality time together.

Dating Donghyuck has been easy and she is enjoying every second of it. Donghyuck, that peculiar human being, likes to impersonate people as his daily jokes and it has become quite of a habit. From his usual Michael Jackson impersonation to something way more extreme such as creating new personas for himself.

It started a week ago when Donghyuck picked her up to campus wearing ripped, washed-out jeans, black boots, and a wifebeater underneath his black leather jacket. The weirdest thing was, he had a cigarette sticking on the side of his mouth but it wasn’t lit—Donghyuck never smoked anything in his entire life.

“’ Sup,” he said, lowering his voice to make it sound deeper after he spat to the ground in a manly way (based on his own opinion, of course).

“What on earth is happening to you?” She asked, staring at him bewilderedly from head-to-toe.

Donghyuck pretended to blow some smokes from his cigarette. “The hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, girl? I’m a gangster. This is what gangsters do. Now hop on my bike, you little shit.”

She just stared flatly at him. “I’m not gonna go anywhere with you talking to me like that.”

“But I’m a gangsta! Gangsters swear, sucker.”

“And you think swearing is attractive?”

Donghyuck snickered, breaking out of his character. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’m just trying on something new,” he explained, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles once. “You look very pretty today. Now, will you please go with me? We’re going to be late.”

“And you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” he chuckled and then he began to get into character again. “But I’m serious. Get on my fucking bike, bitch.”

She sighed but rode away with him anyway.

On the next day, he dressed up in a pair of baggy pants, a shirt with the words “Nerds for life” written upon it, eyeglasses that were too big for his little face, and sneakers that were way too white and way too clean.

“Good afternoon, my fellow specimen!” He saluted, holding a Star Wars graphic novel in his hands as he sat beside his girlfriend on the bleachers. He was supposed to get ready for another soccer game that was going to start in another half an hour, but here he was, dressing like a dork and bugging her like always.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd, I am not,” he said, imitating Yoda from the Star Wars franchise. “But a beauty, yes you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, I am not.”

“Will you stop it already?”

“Stop, I can not.”

“Shut up!” She was beginning to laugh when Donghyuck kept talking like that as he tried to kiss her. “No! Don’t kiss me! You’re gross!”

“I am Donghyuck Skywalker and you are my mate, Princess Leia!” He announced, suddenly standing on one of the seats and opened his arms widely above his head. “We shall roam the entire universe! Just us two, you and me, with your beauty shining brighter than the stars!” Then he jumped back down, placed his hands on his hips, and smirked as he spoke, “Now open up your hangar ‘cause my starfighter needs refueling—”

“HYUCK, OH MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP!”

That happened almost every day for at least an hour-long, but him dressing up like an idiot was enough to attract the entire campus and to make his girlfriend dying from either laughing too hard or drowning in secondhand embarrassment—the latter tends to happen more often. From being Hyuckcutio—the desperate lover from the medieval age (he wore a cape and had a rose between his teeth), Donghyucko Mucho—the Spanish guy who fell hard for his Rosalinda (he had a fake mustache on his face), to Donghyuck Dawson—the American dude whose heart still sailed for his Rose DeWitt Bukater even when the ship fucking sank.

She found him to be amusing and it was really entertaining watching him work hard to impress her. But if she had to choose, the moment she loved the most would be when Donghyuck dressed up in a plain white tee, washed-out jeans, and a smile that was bright enough to make other people look at him in a daze. His brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, and it looked so fluffy with bangs falling over his eyes.

He sat on the bleachers next to her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, baby.”

His girlfriend smiled back, cheeks glowing in pink. “Who are you trying to be now?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Myself.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before she kissed his cheek. “I think…” I like this one the most. “You look ridiculous.”

Donghyuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he ruffled her hair. “I know.”

“Something weird happened to me yesterday,” she confesses, playing idly with Donghyuck’s dark strands as she hangs around on his bed. Donghyuck’s head on her lap is a comforting weight she tends to miss when she’s alone in her room. “There’s this guy who came to my house late in the evening and he looked familiar but I can’t place who he was in my mind.”

Donghyuck turns around and looks up at her. “Maybe he’s an old friend?”

“Maybe,” she sighs. “He kept on staring at me and when I asked him why, he kind of brushed my hair and I just cried.”

Donghyuck raises his right eyebrow. “You cried?”

She nods, looking worried and dispirited so Donghyuck lifts his head off her lap and pats her head. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, giving her a playful smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t know what happened, it’s just—” She exhales heavily, lacing Donghyuck’s fingers with hers. “I suddenly felt so sad and there’s this pain aching in my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Donghyuck kisses her knuckles to soothe her down. “You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. That guy was probably some sort of a voodoo believer or something and he tried to hypnotize you. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She smiles, giving her boyfriend a flick on the nose. “Stupid. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure, it does!” Donghyuck swiftly pulls her by the leg and she falls to the bed with a giggle on her lips. Donghyuck climbs up her body, kissing her cheek before he grins at her.

“What?” she asks, her eyes have that teasing twinkle in them. “You look like you’re about to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” Donghyuck snorts. “What, just because I’m lying on top of my girlfriend with my face being this close, you think I want to kiss you? Such confidence you have.”

She retaliates with a playful shove against his shoulders and Donghyuck laughs before he pins both of her hands to the bed. He leans close and kisses her lips, gentle like usual but also has that fiery spark behind it.

She tenderly smiles and lets him kiss her one more time before he sighs and trails his fingertips along the side of her face. “What now?” she asks, grinning teasingly.

Donghyuck’s playful smirk has vanished away from his face. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, his face serious as he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. This is actually the first time she hears him say those three words and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.

She parts her lips to speak. “Why are you suddenly—”

“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck says, his eyes are deep with sincerity and adoration. “I’ve actually been in love with you for a while. I guess I’ve even loved you from back when we were kids.” He chuckles quietly to himself when he sees her frowning. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “Back then when I hit you with my ball and you just stared at me with that cute look on your face? You don’t remember that?”

“So that spring wasn’t the first time you hit my head with a ball?” she gives him a look and Donghyuck laughs before he kisses the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess I have the knack in running to damsels in distress and hitting them on the head with my ball.”

“Yeah, with you being the cause of their distress.”

Donghyuck pinches her cheek until she bursts out laughing. He rolls to his back and brings her forward to lie on top of him. She balances herself by putting her hands on his chest and Donghyuck tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you love me?” he asks, quietly and she can see the insecurities in his eyes. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t but—”

“I do,” she hastily answers before he starts rambling nonsense. “Donghyuck you’re my Soulmate. Of course, I love you.” She bends her head down to kiss him deeply, tugging his lower lip with her teeth. “I do. I love you.”

Donghyuck groans lowly before he flips her back to her previous position, him hovering above her. He parts her lips with his and begins tasting every corner of her mouth, making her moan delicately against his warm lips. She cards her fingers through his hair before she rests her hand on his nape, touching the scar that has the exact same shape as hers.

A mark that indicates they’re both connected as Soulmates.

***

The clock indicates that it’s 05:17 p.m when his mother hugs him close to her chest. “You’ll be alright, Mark,” she whispers in his ear, her voice breaking. “I will just be right here and we’ll meet again in a few hours, okay?”

Mark Lee smiles brokenly to his family as he leans back on his wheelchair. His father pats him on his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Son.”

His older brother gives him a familiar punch to his shoulder, teasing him although his concerned eyes betray him. “You’ll be okay, buddy. Think about it, we can play soccer again after this and I don’t have to hold back for your weak ass.” And Mark only chuckles softly before the doctor drags him away to the surgery room.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mark says, waving his hand and he can hear his own voice ready to shatter into pieces in the next seconds. “Bye, Hyung.”

And he dedicates his final farewell with a thought of her name.

“Everything will be fine, Mark,” the doctor says, eyes sparked with reassurance though his words mean nothing to Mark’s ears. The patient lies on his bed, taking a deep breath before the nurse injects a needle into his skin. “We’ll get you a new heart so you can ride your bike all day long again like you used to, okay?”

“Okay, Doc,” Mark simply responds, mirroring his smile that soon drops to the ground the second the older man glances away.

“Can you count to ten for me?”

The boy nods, beginning to count as the liquid runs through his veins, making him feel numb and sleepy.

“One.”

He remembers that one morning when he first realized he was in love. It was when she appeared in front of his room, breathless with a frantic look on her eyes, and screamed at him for not telling her that he was having a fever. She skipped school that day, no matter how many times her mother tried to drag her back there, saying that she wanted to stay at home and take care of her best friend.

“Two.”

Mark remembers the second month after they started dating. Of melted ice cream cones and chocolates they shared after school was over. And those secret kisses they stole from each other when their parents weren’t looking. Mark remembers how she used to compare him with summer, and when Mark pouted because he thought she was talking about how his pale skin easily got burned under the sunlight, she only laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “You’ll always be my summer, Mark.”

“Three.”

He remembers how they used to speak those three words every night and every morning of every day. He remembers how they used to be so shy and he also remembers the day those three words became a promise. A promise, in Mark’s case, that lasts forever. But one that she’d forget in the near future.

“Four.”

Mark had only sung to her with his nervous fingers playing his acoustic guitar four times, but the adoration and the love she had in her eyes lasted for four years.

“Five…”

“There are five reasons why you should fall in love and stay in love with me, Mark Lee,” she once said with a smug smile on her face. “First, I’m a natural beauty.” Mark yawned and she threw her pillow at him. “Second, I’m a loving and caring person.” Mark rolled his eyes and he got a glare in return. “Third, I’m smart—like hella smart.” Mark began to bury his face in his pillow and she flicked him on the ear. “Fourth, I’m sexy.” Mark stared at her with boredom in his eyes as he clapped his hands nonchalantly. “What, it’s true! You said so once, don’t you dare lie to me! And last but not least, I’m your best friend and I’ve understood you as well as I know the back of my hand.” Mark secretly smiled at that.

“Well,” he said, “you know how many reasons are there for you to love me?”

Her eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. “How many?”

“Just one,” Mark said, lacing his fingers with hers.

“And that is?” she asked, looking up to him through her long, beautiful eyelashes.

“It’s because I love you,” Mark said. “Unconditionally and everlastingly. That should be enough reason for you, right?”

And he muffled her happy giggle with a kiss to her lips.

Mark’s eyes start to grow heavy. “S… Six…”

He remembers the way she blushed when he swatted her bangs away from her eyes. Remembers the way she warmed his hands, puffing her cheeks when he was risking his health for her sake. He remembers the way she gasped against his mouth, her spine pressed against the fence, her fingers fisting at the fabric of his sweater.

“Se…ven…”

“What are you doing, Mark?”

“I’m writing a song.”

“What’s it called?”

“Seven days.”

“Why?”

Mark went flustered and he nearly fainted when she stole his notepad and kept herself moving, dodging his every attempt in retrieving it, before she read on the lyrics he wrote.

“Surprisingly, a week feels really short. Any time spent with you, to end it, it’s a pity. I’m still curious about everything about you. I fall for you more as I get to know you.”

She sent him a look and Mark immediately babbled, “It’s not specifically about you, it’s about people in general—“ But she muffled the rest of his excuse with her lips, hands tugging around his collar, pressing him closer than ever.

“Eight…”

They just turned eighteen but Mark had her lying underneath him, fingers trembling and lips bruised from his feverish kisses. “I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good. Let me be yours.”

“Am I making you happy?”

“MARK, WATCH OUT!”

A tear slips away from his eye as he begins to close his lids. And the boy never gets to finish counting because his dreams stop there. And now, nightmares welcome him with open arms, just as darkness begins to envelop him once again.

Like an old friend.

***

“Don’t you think Yukhei will get mad?” she asks, giggling as she buries her face in her boyfriend’s chest, still peppering small kisses now and then. The clock’s ticking, showing the number 18.18 on the screen of her cellphone. They’re still mostly naked underneath the sheets—with her dressed only in her lingerie and Donghyuck only wearing his boxer—not caring that his roommate, Wong Yukhei, can come back there any second.

“What, because we just had sex on his bed and cuddled afterward?” Donghyuck says, and he chuckles when she punches his shoulder. “Hey, I did say I love you but easy on the hands there, Mike Tyson.”

She beams at him and giggles again when Donghyuck begins to hover above her and trails butterfly kisses from her neck to her collarbones. “Shouldn’t we shower? I feel so dirty,” she says, chuckling when Donghyuck licks a long stripe on the sensitive skin.

“Well, I’m about to do something dirtier to you so why bother?” He slides his hand down her stomach, making her fidget a little with his silky smooth touch, and hover his fingers above the line of her lingerie. Noticing how she nibbles on her lip, anticipating something to occur, Donghyuck smirks. “If I ask you to beg, would you do it?”

Her cheeks turn scarlet but she quickly retorts with, “No way in hell.”

He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “I could make you feel really good, though.”

She can’t stand being the opposite of him when he’s being sinfully seductive like this. “I’m leaving,” she announces, attempts to wiggle herself free from his hold but he catches her with a snicker tumbling off his lips. Settling her down on his lap, he lays a hand on her spine while his other one sneaks around her waist, bringing her close until his lips graze the supple skin between her breasts.

“You’re leaving?” Donghyuck murmurs, landing another trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts, tongue darting out to taste her skin. “But I still need to worship my Goddess.”

She wants to send him a snarky remark but she’s too deep in pleasure to care at the moment. She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. Donghyuck flips her around, laying her back to the bed, and spreads her legs apart so he can fit between them. She becomes nervous from the intensity of his gaze as if he’s being consumed by desire and he wants to drag her with him.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says, bending down until she can feel his breath fanning the inside part of her thigh. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, you don’t even know.” His eyes never leave hers as he sucks bruises on the sensitive skin of her thigh. “And now that I have you where I want you, I still couldn’t get enough. What should I do?”

She swallows hard, instantly closing her eyes when he pushes her lingerie to the side, fingers dipping inside her warmth. His eyes glimmer with lust, wetting his lower lip once as he’s captivated with her sultry expression. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.”

Her fingers are twisting against the sheet when she hears his praise followed quickly by the heat of his tongue rubbing against her clit. She’s drowning, intoxicated by his every move, her orgasm nearing close.

But then Donghyuck suddenly stops and breaks away. His eyes are stern and wide, filled with horror.

She frowns as she follows his gaze, landing her eyes on the middle of her bare chest. There’s a long cut, fresh and red, that starts to appear inch by inch on her skin. It begins from a few centimeters below her collarbones to the skin between her breasts, until it stops just a few inches away from her navel.

“W-what is this?” She sits up straight, touching the cut with trembling fingers. She doesn’t feel any pain, which means—

She takes a look at Donghyuck’s chest—at the man who claims that he’s her Soulmate—and finds nothing. There’s no scar on his chest. The mark comes from someone else.

Donghyuck’s not her Soulmate.

Donghyuck’s gawks at the sight before he stares back at her without blinking. When realization appears vividly on her face, he gulps and stutters, “I-I can explain…”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screams, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. And when Donghyuck just gazes at her in shock, she pushes him away by his shoulders with so much force, he almost topples off the bed. “GET OUT!”

“W-wait—” Donghyuck tries to explain, standing on his feet with his eyes filled with fear of being thrown away. He looks like death is approaching him. “Noona, please, listen to me—”

“No!” She throws everything she can reach by her hands—his pillow, the sheets, his clothes—while her eyes begin to grow hot and the pain of being betrayed and blatantly lied growing more vividly behind her chest. “How dare you do this to me, you—”

“Noona!” Donghyuck holds her wrists and tries to keep up with her struggle. “Please, calm down and listen—”

“I HATE YOU!” She bites back, crying with her teeth gritting behind her lips when Donghyuck has her pinned back down to the bed. “I hate you…” her voice reduces into a softer tone but somehow it adds more fresh wounds to Donghyuck’s feelings. He knows she doesn’t hate him just like how he will never be able to hate her, no matter what she does. Soulmates or not, she truly does love him. But this... This new scar on her chest... This still changes everything.

Donghyuck’s eyes turn sorrowful—there’s no more light in them. No joy, no mischievous gleam, nothing but a disappointment he has brought upon himself. “Noona…”

“I believed you,” she sobs, staring at him with broken eyes and quivering lips. “I believed you, Haechannie—how could you do this to me?”

Donghyuck loses his grip, feeling all of his strength leaving his body. “I’m…” He swallows and reaches out a hand when she throws her wrist above her eyes. “Noona, there’s a reason why I’m doing this—”

“Your scar!” She suddenly yells, eyes filled with nothing but rage. “That scar on the back of your neck—is that fake?”

“Noona—”

“Answer me!”

Donghyuck freezes, his throat feels dry when he speaks. “Yes,” He finally admits and he can almost hear her heart shattering apart. “Yes, it’s fake.”

She lets out a breath, one hand going to the side of her head. “I can’t believe it…” Her breathing goes a bit ragged. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me—”

“Yes, but—”

“After all this time,” she says, staring at him with new tears in her eyes. “After all this time, Haechannie… You’ve been lying to me.”

Donghyuck endures the pain that comes every time she says those words. “Noona, please, you need to listen to me.” And when he tries to take her wrist again, she pulls back immediately.

“Can you please leave?” she asks between her quiet sobs but her tone is definite. “I’m… I’ll be away before you come back so just—”

“Noona, can we at least talk—”

“Hyuck, please,” she cries, fisting the sheets underneath her. “Just leave me alone.”

And Donghyuck does as she says because he feels that if he stays just a second longer, she’ll break apart even more and he never wants to see her like that. He’s supposed to bring smiles to her face—to make her laugh just like the old days, but look what he has done now?

Goddammit, Hyuck.

He hurriedly puts his pants on and he’s already standing at the door before he can even place his shirt back on. “Noona…” He whispers, taking a last look at the girl who’s now hugging her knees to her chest and crying miserably to her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

But she doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t want to hear him.

Just let me be alone.

Donghyuck brings his gaze down to the floor. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. I’ll make sure you’ve left before I come back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Goodbye, Noona.”

This situation seems familiar but it feels way, way much worse.

***

Mark Lee

18: 01: 19

“Doctor, how is he?” Mark’s mother quickly asks the man when he steps into the waiting room. Her husband stands behind her with a stiff hand on her shoulder, praying for his child’s health. Mark’s older brother bites his lower lip, waiting anxiously for the moment he can breathe in relief because he knows his little brother will be fine.

But that turns out to be wrong when the doctor shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

The surgery has failed. Mark’s body rejects his new heart and he can no longer be saved.

Life ends but their sorrow stays.

***

After passing twenty minutes of trying to calm herself down, burying herself under the sheets during those dreading minutes, she finally gets up from the bed. Her hands are still shaky when she collects her clothing and dresses properly. She stares at herself in the mirror, taking a glimpse of the new long scar in the middle of her chest before she buttons her shirt up. Something must have happened to her other half—she needs to find out what it is. She needs to know who it is.

She closes her eyes. Everything hurts and she doesn’t know why but that man’s face—the guy who stood by her gate last night—keeps appearing on her mind. But every time she remembers him, another wound breaks inside her chest, and tears begin to roll down once more.

Exhaling a deep breath, she searches for her phone. She quickly scrolls through her contact list and dials the numbers she’s been searching.

Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!

A woman’s voice comes through the line. “Hello, Yongsan Municipal Library, how may I help—”

“Yes, hi,” she hastily greets, voice still filled with quivers but with more strength behind it when she introduced herself. “I’m looking for this guy named Mark Lee—he w-works at your place a-and—” her voice breaks at the end, trembling with tears that’s about to flood her eyes. “Can… Can you please, let me speak to him?”

There’s a silence on the other side of the phone and she wonders whether that lady doesn’t understand the words she just said or for some entirely different reason.

Please let him be okay.

“You’re looking for Mark Lee?” she asks and she nods until she realizes she can’t see her. “Y-yes,” she croaks out.

“Well, he hasn’t come here since two days ago,” the lady explains while her heart sinks below her stomach. “He said he was about to go through surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“Yes, for his heart,” she answers and her hand unconsciously goes to her chest. It’s starting to make sense now. “I heard he got into the operation room a few hours ago. I’m still waiting for the news, actually. It’s—oh wait, I got a mail. Maybe this is it.” There’s a rustling sound going on in the background and she waits with her heart thumping loudly. A few seconds later, she hears a soft gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

“Ma’am?” she starts. “Ma’am, what’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Say yes. Please say yes.

Another silence before the lady comes to answer her with a voice so quiet she almost mistakes it as a whisper. “Mark Lee has passed away, just a few minutes ago. He was—”

She drops her phone to the floor in panic and quickly unbuttons her shirt again. She runs to the mirror, focusing her gaze at her reflection and she finds nothing.

The scar on her chest has vanished, not even leaving a trace of it behind. Just like the memories she had with him.

Donghyuck doesn’t really leave the room even when she has screamed at him to do so. He’s closed the door behind him but he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he slides down to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden surface, and waits. The hallway is empty and Donghyuck shivers from the cold.

God, you’re so fucking stupid, he thinks to himself. You shouldn’t have agreed with Chenle. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

Donghyuck traces the scar on his nape—the fake scar that he made to make her believe. To make her think that he was her Soulmate.

He feels like he’s about to vomit. He’s so sick of himself. Disgusting, he thinks, you’re a piece of crap, Lee Donghyuck. He closes his eyes, biting on his lower lip as his mind flashes back to his conversation with his younger friend, Zhong Chenle.

“Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You said you wanted to get close to her, right?” Chenle had once said to him. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. That’s the clue.”

Yukhei reached out to see what was hidden behind Donghyuck’s collar. “Shit, dude,” he said, hissing, “You don’t have it. The scar—you’re not her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck’s heart flopped and it took a moment for him to recover. “W-well…” He barked a laugh, masking his disappointment though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well then, there goes my chance.”

“No, you still have a chance,” Chenle corrected. “I know who her Soulmate is. And he’s dying.”

“W-what?”

“Mark Lee,” Chenle said with sorrowful eyes and a broken heart. Donghyuck knew perfectly who he was—that guy, the owner of prominent cheekbones, thin lips, and pale skin who constantly refused his offer to play soccer together. “Mark Lee is her Soulmate, Hyung. But he’s... He’s dying. His heart is weak and that’s why he doesn’t want to get close to her. He knows he’s not gonna last long.”

“B-but—” Donghyuck splutters, frowning. “Does she know about this?”

“No,” Chenle shook his head once. “They used to date and she didn’t even know it back then. They didn’t know it back then. Then they got into an accident and she lost her memories. Mark thinks it’s a chance for him to stay away from her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Donghyuck shouted angrily. “He’s her Soulmate! She deserves to know! They deserve to be together even just for a while—”

“He doesn’t want to. He’s given up, Hyung. He wants me to tell you that.” And his next words were the last thing Chenle said before he left with an apologetic look on his face. “I know you want to push Mark to be with her but I think you should stop. He thinks it’s better this way.”

Donghyuck hissed under his breath, pushing his hair back in frustration. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yukhei gaped before his friend confronted him and asked, “Yukhei, what happened when your Soulmate dies before you know them?”

The tall boy realized where Donghyuck was going with this. He remembered how Donghyuck hadn’t gotten any scars on his body yet.

“You’ll find yourself another Soulmate.”

With that in mind, Donghyuck ran through the corridors, stepping into the faculty he knew Mark Lee was in. The paler boy was in the middle of his literature class and Donghyuck just went in, blurting out, “Sorry Prof, it’s an emergency!” to the lecturer before he yanked Mark out of his seat. The older one was quiet, following him without asking questions until Donghyuck shoved him against a wall in an empty hallway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Donghyuck asked through gritted teeth. His hands were grasping tightly against the fabric of Mark’s collar.

Mark stared at him back with cold, almost challenging eyes. “I should be the one who asked you that. You’re the one who suddenly dragged me over here.”

“She’s your Soulmate!” Donghyuck nearly screamed at him. “Do you know how rare it is to find your Soulmate at such a young age?”

Mark only kept his face straight when he replied, “So you’ve heard.”

“Yes, I’ve heard, you asshole,” Donghyuck spat back. “And from your friend too because apparently, you’re too busy being such a fucking coward to tell me yourself!”

Mark’s eyes darkened at his degrading words but he didn’t say anything.

Donghyuck exhaled in exasperation. “Look, Mark. do you know how much she wants to find her Soulmate? How much she wants to be with you? You’ve known all along and I know you guys had a history together so why the hell aren’t you two together now?”

Mark’s jaw clenched before he broke their eye contact. “It’s better this way.”

“Why, because you’re dying?”

Mark’s eyes grew hard before he closed them. “Among many reasons.”

Donghyuck was on the verge of punching him so hard across his jaw but when he saw the wounded look that flitted through Mark’s eyes for just a few seconds, he restrained himself. Instead, he just asked,” How could you be so selfish?”

Mark immediately turned to look at the other man with a hard glare, his heart beating fast from his rage. “Selfish?” Mark asked, his tone sounded almost as sharp as a knife. “I’m selfish? Donghyuck-ah, I’m letting the person I care about the most in the world fall into another man’s arm because I don’t want to hurt her! If I die, she’ll—”

“She’ll what? She’ll be sad? Devastated? Well, hey, news flash, Mark. Everybody dies!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “You say you’re dying but you can never know when you’re actually going to die. My condition is as good as a person can be but who can guarantee I’m gonna live long? What if I get into an accident? What if I suddenly get sick and die the next day? You can never know so don’t use that as an excuse, you coward!”

Donghyuck had a point; Mark knew that. But it wasn’t easy.

Mark just shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course.” Donghyuck scoffed. “And that’s why I said you’re being selfish.”

“You want to talk about being selfish?!” Mark was losing his patience. “Try to look at yourself! You’re here, pretending like you care and want us to be together when it’s obvious that you’re happy with all of this because you get to have her for yourself—”

Donghyuck punched the boy with his right fist. He couldn’t help it. He snapped.

The punch wasn’t hard enough to knock the teeth out of his mouth but it was hard enough to make Mark feel lightheaded and fall to the floor. He hissed, rubbing the pain off his jaw, and leaned his back against the wall.

“Fine,” Donghyuck said, staring at the boy who looked up at him with a new bruise forming along his right jaw. Donghyuck could see how much Mark wanted to be with her and how much he tried to convince himself to do so. But he could tell how Mark was afraid. That boy almost lost everything once—he knew how awful it was to be left alone. He didn’t want that to happen to her and though Donghyuck understood that, he just couldn’t accept it yet. “If you want to give up on her,” he said, “Then go. Do it. I’m not you so I don’t know how you feel but I can see that deep down inside, you still don’t want to let her go. But the thing is, Mark, I’m gonna fight for her. I’m gonna make her happy. Soulmates or not, I’m gonna try to make her feel loved because I am—I’m in love with her. But I am not happy taking her away from her Soulmate—from you. That’s your fault. You had two options and you chose to leave. That’s your own decision, so don’t try to make yourself feel better by telling me how I feel. You don’t know me.”

Mark brought his head down, nibbling on his lip. His eyes felt hot and he felt downright awful about himself. He didn’t mean to insult Donghyuck—he was just angry for a second there. His emotions had gone over control.

“Then go make her happy,” Mark said, picking himself up from the floor and walked away. Donghyuck stared at his back and nodded with a sincere promise even when the boy could no longer see him.

“Stupid,” Donghyuck murmurs to himself as his flashback ends. “Mark’s right. You’re selfish. You’re such an idiot.” He punches the ground beneath him a few times out of frustration before he slides his fingers through his hair and pulls on the roots. He doesn’t notice how he just cut himself along his knuckles, his skin breaking and bleeding slowly through a thin layer. “You can’t even be sure you’re her next Soulmate, Hyuck. You’re just an idiot. An idiot and an asshole and you just lost her for the second time in your pathetic little life.” He closed his eyes and leaned back to the door.

Noona, please forgive me.

She slides down to the floor and hugs her knees to her chest. Pressing her temple to her knees, she sobs until her entire shoulders begin to shake.

Mark Lee was her Soulmate. And he knew—that’s why he came to her house that night. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? And why did he look so familiar? So familiar and yet she doesn’t remember anything. Why can’t she remember him?

God, I beg you, please. Let me remember him, she prays under her muffled sobs, if he ever meant something to me, please, let me remember him. I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I don’t care. I just want to remember him. That’s all I ask.

Mark…

But as Mark dies, the permanent scar he gets on his chest before his final moment dies with him as well. The memory of him never suffices and Mark is just a shadow, following her everywhere but one that she cannot see.

She braces herself to glance one more time at the scar on her chest but there’s none. The cut has disappeared. She’s just as good as new.

Except for the faint cut that recently appears on her knuckles.

***

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years ago

Text

Not by the Moon | 05

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of grumpy jealous werewolf!Jaebeom who gets a wee bit violent, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, werewolf courting, sexual tension, werewolf!Jaebeom acting like a pup, and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV. Bam and Jinyoung make a cameo.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

Wonderful as a trip abroad might be, there’s nothing that can compare to the secret feeling of relief when returning home. No longer there is luggage to drag along, languages to swap between, or cultures to assimilate to. While it is in good fun, it’s also physically and mentally exhausting. Henceforth, coming home is like a cozy blanket to wrap around your shoulders by the fire on a cold November day. And once you’re bundled up, it is time to breathe easy and rest.

Although, home is not necessarily a place. In fact, mine has made good on his promise and puppy dreams, standing in the crowd to pick me up.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out as we enter the hall of arrivals, “over here!”

Manes tucked away under a dark red beanie and wearing a simple black jacket over an oversized black shirt, Jaebeom waves to pull attention to himself.

“Who’s that?” Bam follows my gaze to the adorable tall man as we make our way through the crowd of trolleys, suitcases, hellos and goodbyes. “Is that the dude you’ve been texting and calling?”

“He is,” I whisper in reply as we approach him. With every step, the storm of butterflies in my stomach worsens although I feel light as air at the same time. Happiness in Love is a strange thing.

“So that’s your boyfriend,” my colleague purrs. He sounds pleased in the way I imagine he’d sound if he was my older brother.

I whip my head around, tongue-tied but not enough to protest the assumption. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Bam merely chuckles to himself, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he continues. “Sure he isn’t, Y/N. After all, you’ve not been touching your lips and turning into a blushy mess afterwards. Or keeping those books you have with you close at all times, looking at them fondly.”

“Of course I am.” Jaebeom jumps into the conversation when we’ve reached him, acting as if he’s heard our conversation perfectly through the ruckus of the crowd. The sparkle in his eyes dims and turns into a poisonous glare when he notices the guy besides me. “Who are you?”

“JB, this is Kunpimook.’’ I gesture from one to the other, jaw clenched in the hope the wolf man won’t actively show the hostility harboured in his gaze. ‘’The colleague I told you about.”

“Just call me Bam.” Politely, he holds out his hand.

“Im Jaebeom,” the other man introduces himself, fortunately accepting the gesture howbeit with a strained expression. “Her boyfriend.”

“Hey, you must be Y/N.” Holding a tray with three coffee cups in it, a young man joins our company.

Like Jaebeom, who has proudly proclaimed himself my boyfriend, he is tall, slender yet muscular in build and has black hair. Nevertheless, whereas Jaebeom has a flair of being unapproachable, the stranger has a boyish air around him that’s open for contact.

He moves the carrier from his right hand to his left for a handshake. “I’m Jinyoung.”

Immediately, bells start ringing at the mention of his name. After all, there hasn’t been a single call the past week wherein he wasn’t mentioned. “Jaebeom’s told me about you. You’re a professor at the university here, right?”

“I am,” he beams, his proud tone indicating how much he likes his job. “I teach Mythology. It’s a course that encompasses folklore around the world, so it’s fairly broad.”

“You teach only one course?”

“I do, but I’m also a doctor. Well, still studying to be one officially, but I’m allowed to work at the university’s clinic already.”

“Wow.’’ A professor and a doctor. There’s little else I can say as a mere travel journalist, so I just try to remain casual despite being utterly gobsmacked.

“I know, it’s a lot. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to do it and occasionally write an article.”

How does he do it? He’s likely not that much older than I, but he’s evidently busier than I am.

“Show-off.” The grumbled insult interferes with the friendly conversation. The focus of Jaebeom’s glare has changed targets from Bam to the professor. However, the latter doesn’t seem to notice his friend’s chagrin.

“I’m simply introducing myself, Jay. Here,” Jinyoung hands him one of the paper cups from the carrier, “your apple and cinnamon tea.”

“You drink tea now?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. It sounds like a strange concept because I’ve never seen him drink anything but black coffee.

“Doctor’s orders,” JB murmurs in response, discontent and keeping a close eye on Bam as he nips the warm beverage.

“I’ve put him on tea, preferably green, to lower the caffeine levels in his blood. Otherwise, he’ll be staying up all night reading and trying to cook. Oh,” he reaches for something in his pocket, pulling out a small bottle like the one JB showed me in the park and handing it to his friend, “you forgot your meds.”

“You’re on medication?” Bam asks without any implications or judgment. The funny thing is, despite being extroverted and extravagant - extra, in general - he actually studied psychology and thought about becoming a psychiatrist for a while. Therefore, he has a general interest in medicine and its function of helping the human psyche.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaebeom sneers sarcastically, his voice closer to a growl than human speech. Then, he turns his attention to Jinyoung, who continues to hold his calm. “Why are you giving this to me now? Couldn’t you wait until we’re back? I’m not gonna take them in front of some stranger, especially not someone close to her. Besides, what does skipping one time or by a few hours matter?”

“Jay, don’t be like this,’’ the young professor sighs. ‘’You know how important timing is, especially with this new treatment.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

A nudge against my shoulder distracts me from the fierce bickering, Bam lowly whispering he’s leaving for home as well as an apology for what he has unleashed. I answer in a similar fashion when promising to call him later and apologizing for putting him into this situation. He merely waves dismissively, unbothered, and disappears in the crowd of trolleys and journeying strangers.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I intervene lest the situation gets out of hand. A hand on his chest, I try to distract Jaebeom by shifting his focus to me. “Let’s go search for somewhere quiet around here where it’s just us. It’s important to me too you take your meds.”

“Let’s just go home.” His features soften, compromising like I did that day in the bookshop and didn’t want to eat. “I’ll take them in the car, alright?”

“Why do you have to be cross with me about it when you readily accept to take them when Y/N tells you to?” Jinyoung crosses his arms in defiance, lips pulled into a displeased pout.

“Because she’s my mate,” Jaebeom argues, sure to show his teeth. Withal, he turns into a gentle giant again once he wraps an arm around my waist and looks down at me with so much adoration I feel my cheeks burning up. “Girlfriend, I mean. We’re dating, so she’s my girlfriend.”

“We’ve only been out together once,” I sputter. It’s wonderful to hear the affirmation we’re an item, although I still think it’s a bit too early to claim we are.

“Twice after today. And we’ve kissed,” he corrects me, tone indicating there is no use in protesting. Nevertheless, the sternness wavers as it warms into merriment. “I got you something. I’ll give it to you once we’re home.”

Jinyoung leans in as we head to the exit, whispering. “He went kinda overboard.”

“I didn’t,” Jaebeom growls. “Stop embarrassing me. Know your fucking place.”

“Boys,” I sigh in warning.

Both lower their head and let out a whimper in apology. “Sorry.”

“This is where you live?” Jinyoung parks the car in front of the tall white brick building overlooking the quay at the edge of town.

“Wow...” Jaebeom murmurs in the passenger seat, awed by the fact I live on the east side of town. It’s a recently redeveloped area, the warehouses refurbished into apartment complexes to help combat the growing housing issue.

“I do. Not for much longer, though.”

Both men turn in their seats, looking at me as if I’m insane.

“You’re moving out?” The professor asks, although it’s more of an exclamation than a question. “Why would you leave this place? It’s one of the most desired places to live within the city.”

However, JB doesn’t care about the reason which makes me want to leave the neighbourhood behind. Instead, he’s anxious to know where to find me. “Where will you go?”

“Do you know those orchards on the outskirts of town? With the old cottages?” Both nod as confirmation. “Well, that’s where I’ll be moving to. I’ve been meaning to get out of the city for a while. Granted, the harbour district isn’t as busy as the city centre. But, despite being only twenty-two, I crave the silence of the countryside. Or, rather, its tranquility which I can also find in the suburbs.”

“You’re twenty-two?” Jaebeom asks, head tilted to the side.

“I am,’’ I admit as I pull my knees up to make myself as small as possible. ‘’I never mentioned it because I didn’t think it’d matter. Does it, though?”

My voice is hardly audible, a frog stuck in my throat. Why did I have to be the one to bring this up?

“No, not at all! I still like you. A lot. A lot, a lot. But, I’m older than you. Quite a bit, I think.”

“How old?” The question barely rolls off the tongue, pale with dread.

Please, don’t let there be too big of an age gap.

“I’m twenty...” He looks at Jinyoung, brow furrowed.

“Twenty-eight,” the good doctor whispers, unconscious of the fact that the well-meant reminder is loud enough for me to hear.

“Twenty-eight,” Jaebeom confirms, staring back at me in anticipation. “Six years difference. Does it matter? To you, I mean. In how you see me?”

“It doesn’t. Do you see me differently?”

“I never did.”

“Age is only a number, after all,” the professor pitches in to cheer us up further. “Anyway, I’m dropping you off here.”

“Can’t you stay?” Surely I can’t let him leave without at least thanking him with a cup of coffee or tea.

“I’d love to, but- Don’t you snarl at me.” He points an accusing finger at JB, who’s showing his teeth and lowly growling like he did at the airport.

Caught red-handed, the wolfish man feigns ignorance and stares out the window. However, his sulky expression and scoff betray his true feelings.

“As I was saying,” Jinyoung continues after an exasperated sigh, “I’d love to, but I get to attend an interesting transplant operation today and have a bit of research to do for a new article.”

“That’s a shame. I owe you a cup of coffee, then. That’s the least I can do to repay you for driving me home.”

“I’ll make good on that promise soon. But for now, go on, you two.” He motions for us to get out of the car. “Don’t make it awkward by making me the third wheel.”

“Jinyoung.” Hesitantly, the big wolf man holds up his fist.

“No hard feelings.” He bumps his fist against JB’s.

“Good.” The seat belt comes undone, but Jaebeom doesn’t move to step outside yet. Instead, he leans in towards Jinyoung and takes a whiff, squinting as invisible question marks float in the air. “You smell weird, though.”

“Really?” The other man sniffs the collar of his jacket, shrugging casually in jest. “It’s not that bad.”

“Jinyoung.” Despite still looking a bit pale with remorse, the wolf man says the professor’s name harshly, his voice deep as he chastises the turn to humour. He grows still, gaze focused on his friend as he tries to look for what’s unspoken in the other’s body language.

However, there is nothing to see. Although, if there actually is something off, the professor hides it well. But Jaebeom doesn’t get the chance to scrutinize him long enough to see for himself because Jinyoung turns back to the wheel and waves dismissively. “I’m alright, Jae. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

His friend nods, a strained look on his face, and opens the door. I follow behind, having silently observed the conversation from the backseat.

What’re you worried about? Jinyoung looks fine. Nothing wrong with him whatsoever.

Nevertheless, barely have we opened the trunk when the doctor hangs out the window. “And don’t forget your present!”

“Got it right here.” In confirmation, Jaebeom holds up a neat-looking paper bag, chique enough to originally have been used in a boutique.

“That’s my boy,” he chuckles before he resumes his seat.

With a dull thud, Jaebeom closes the trunk again.

The engine roars to life and the car pulls out of the parking lot, Jinyoung honking a few times as we see him off.

I look from Jaebeom to the bag, leaning in to try and sneak a peek of its contents. “What did you get me?”

You promised me a shirt, but do you really need this big of a bag for one?

“I’m not telling you,” he muses.

I straighten my posture, a smile building as a golden opportunity presents itself. “Aw, what’s in the box?”

“Box? Y/N, it’s a bag.”

“I know, but- Never mind.” I wave the apparently obscure allusion with a dismissive gesture, disappointed he doesn’t get the reference. “Let’s go inside.”

“Are you upset?” he asks as we walk to the entrance of the building.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Another reassuring question burns on his tongue, but before he can ask it I stand on the tips of my toes to peck him on the lips and nose. “I’m not going to get upset simply because you didn’t understand me. Besides, it’s just a trivial matter. Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

Though I failed the first time, I again try to get a better look at the mysterious bag. As before, the attempt is in vain. “And curious.”

“I think you’ll like it. In fact,” his lips pull into a smug smirk, “I’m fairly sure you’ll look pretty in it. More pretty than you do now.”

It’s prettier.

I let the mistake slide.

To let him have his little moment of triumph.

There is no place like home. Truly, not a single hotel room or bed and breakfast in the world can substitute the small studio with its minimalistic interior in shades of white and grey.

I breathe in deeply, glad to stand in the familiar narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and space beyond. A faint musty smell cuts through the fragrance of the Nordic leather diffuser sticks I bought before going to Belgium.

Guess I’ll be cleaning tomorrow.

Luckily, it’s been only a few days so the level of dust isn’t too bad. Notwithstanding, the place could do with a little clean-up.

“Well, this is me.”

“I know,” Jaebeom replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes on me.

“No, I mean, this,” I gesture around as I walk into the apartment, “is my place. My house.”

He murmurs something under his breath, seemingly contrasting two words as he tries to understand them or, rather, the difference between them.

“It’s nice,” he remarks when he has figured out his train of thought, looking around appreciatively.

“The cottage will be nicer, I think. I can’t wait to decorate it, make it cozier than this place. Maybe get some plants, hang up a few photos-’’

“A few of us together, maybe?” He proposes as he, too, takes his shoes off and follows me into the living room.

“For example.” I nod at the bag when we settle down on the couch next to the window overlooking the quay. “Can I open my present now?”

“Say ‘please’.” Arms crossed, he leans in so our faces are mere inches away from each other. His breath ghosts warmly over my lips when he continues in a tender yet playful babying tone. “Life is short, but there is always time for courtesy. Manners, young lady.”

“Can I open my present, please?” Regardless of the chance to finally satisfy my curiosity, I don’t dive into the gift directly. Instead, I stay my hand, bothered by a nagging feeling his words are familiar to me. “What you just said, isn’t that a quote?”

“It is, but,’’ Jaebeom bites his lip, eyes averted to the ground, ‘’to be honest, I can’t remember who said it.”

Funny, how you can remember quotes. Maybe that’s how we can communicate in the future if your condition gets worse. Although, let’s hope that’s not the case for a long time.

“Ralph…’’ I start, trying to recall who originally said it. ‘’Ralph Waldo? No, that’s not right. He went by his middle name. Wait, his middle name was Ralph so it was him.”

“Have you read his work?”

“Honestly speaking, I haven’t. However, I have a friend who studies American literature and poetry and she sends poems, quotes and the occasional snippet. I think I’ve seen him in passing. Anyways,’’ I pull the bag onto my lap, giddy as a child in a candy shop, ‘’let’s see what’s inside.”

The present catches me off-guard because the bundles of clothing are both what I expected and yet not. “You...” I trail off, checking and double checking the amount of shirts. “Seven?”

“One for every day of the week,” he beams, proudly barking his reasoning.

These will last me two weeks if not longer. Minimalism isn’t his thing, is it?

I pull out a big grey hoodie and hold it up to my nose to sniff it. A wild forest of which the air is faintly scented by a cologne with fruity undertones and the musty smell of books. I hum contently, enraptured by the scent. By him.

From the corner of my eye, I see Jaebeom grinning in unadulterated amusement. Albeit not without effort, I lower the article of clothing. “I know this is likely stupid to ask, but eventually they’ll have to be washed so what if your scent fades?”

“I’ll just scent them again.’’ He shrugs casually before he points inside the bag. ‘’Also, what’s in the little box on the bottom might help with that too.”

In my astonishment, I missed the cardboard square at the bottom which turns out to be the packaging for a bottle of cologne. “You can spray it on. Sure, it’s not really purely my scent but hopefully it’s still rem- remi- a reminder of me.”

You meant reminiscent, didn’t you?

“Or I can go to you and have you scent them,” I joke, only half-serious.

“If that means more time together,” his mismatched eyes sparkling with gleeful stars, “sure, why not? I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you.’’ Absentmindedly, I fidget with the folds of the hoodie. ‘’I really like it.”

Jaebeom ruffles my hair, letting out a chuff. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you just sit tight and I’ll make us something to eat?”

“Don’t set my kitchen aflame, though,” I warn him as the wolf man gets up from the couch.

“I won’t,” he answers smugly before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I promise.”

With a spring in his step, JB sets off for the kitchen with the bag of groceries he pulled from Jinyoung’s trunk. The two must have dropped by the supermarket before coming to pick me up.

A pillow propped up against the armrest and the blanket formerly draped over the couch now covering my shoulders, I lie down for a nap.

As consciousness fades, a warm affectionate wolfish smile pierces through the growing haze. Jaebeom murmurs something unintelligible and turns his gaze back to the chopping board.

I am home.

Dreaming of two little pups running around an orchard.

“Dinner’s ready!” The loud remark barely filters in until it’s repeated up close, the merry bark lowered in volume. A hand shakes my shoulder, but what does the trick in waking me up is the warm wetness nibbling away at my ear. However, it doesn’t stay there, but travels down the side of my neck and ends its journey at the hem of my shirt, giving it a gentle yet fierce tug.

“Y/N, come on. Get up,” JB whines, the words distorted thanks to keeping the fabric firmly between his teeth. He tugs at it again.

What on earth?

I turn onto my other side, causing the big wolf man to let go. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to eat.” He makes himself smaller, gaze briefly averted to the side before looking at me again, continuing in the same tender yet stern tone he uses whenever food is involved. “With me. This is my first time cooking for you and I practiced really hard while you were away. So, please, eat with me. I want to know whether I did a good job.”

“Do you have to drag me by the collar for that?” I reach out to scratch him behind his ear, tracing his jaw as my fingers work upwards.

Jaebeom’s eyes mist over, his expression turning dreamy as he leans into the touch. “Want- Don’t know… know how to- Come to… kitchen. Although, maybe, just...”

“Feels good?”

A hasty sheepish smile flashes on his lips as he nods in agreement, eyes closed and speechless.

You really are a wolf. Weirdo. My weirdo.

A whine slips out when I stop. JB slowly opens his eyes again, blinks a few times before he clears his throat. “Can we do that again? After dinner, maybe?”

“If I liked what you made, sure. However,” I kiss his forehead, “since you asked so nicely, we can do this again after we’ve eaten. So, will you eat with me?”

Will you stay with me?

“What’s wrong?” Picking up on the worrying thought, he tilts his head to the side and scrutinizes my face as he did Jinyoung’s earlier today.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, dismissing the thought since we’ve already said everything there is to say about it. “Just a silly thought.”

His expression falters. “I’m being over- overbear- too much.”

“No, not at all! Don’t say that, silly.”

Jaebeom nudges my nose with his, his tone sweet in an attempt to make me confess what’s bothering me. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve never done this before,” I admit at last. “No one’s ever cooked for me aside from my mom and grandmother or had a guy proudly proclaim himself as my boyfriend. This is simply new to me so it makes me feel, well, a bit awkward. It’s unreal, like a dream that might go up in smoke any second. That’s maybe a better way to put it.”

“I’m really here. Also, remember what you promised me? You’d stay by my side until you can’t anymore and I promised you the same. I’m a wolf, after all. Loyal to my pack or, rather, my- uh- my bi- no, that’s wrong. My lady,” he grabs my hand and lifts the fingers to his lips for a chaste kiss, “I am your gentleman and I won’t go anywhere without telling you first. And, if possible, I’ll take you with me because I refuse to leave you behind. But for now, let’s go eat. Together. I’ll try not to make a mess.”

Don’t cry, Y/N. Don’t you tear up right in front of him.

I take in a shivering breath, swallow hard, and try to regain composure.

We’re here together and wherever it is we’re going next, we’ll be there as we are now.

Side by side.

Even though I’m hungry and the table is literally three steps away, I groan as I get up from the couch. Travelling takes its toll, no matter how short the distance might be. All the same, I shuffle towards the chair facing the kitchen and plop down on it, watching JB plate up. “What are we having?”

“Steak with blanched vegetables and sweet potato mash,” he proudly announces while serving the food.

“Uhm, that’s very nice. However- it’s alright if you don’t remember, but I’m vegetarian.”

“I remembered.” A bright smile forms on his lips, eyes alight with triumph and joy. “That’s why your steak is soy-based. I found it while doing groceries or, rather, Jinyoung pointed it out. He’s been teaching me how to cook and bake. Well, we’re still working on the latter, but I did bring homemade cheesecake for dessert. I still wonder why they call it cheesecake when what’s going in it isn’t really cheese.”

“Beats me too.”

“You got slapped by cream cheese?” Visibly gobsmacked, he leans in with an expression that holds the middle between curiosity and utter confusion. “How did that happen and was it painful?”

“I mean I don’t understand either,” I reply, shaking my head with a low chuckle, and cut into the steak. As the knife sinks into it, a rosy fluid oozes out of it as if it’s been cooked medium-raw which is exactly how I liked it back in my non-vegetarian days. “But baking hasn’t been a success?”

Jaebeom sits back, shoulders hunched as he pokes the carrot on his plate with his fork. “I burned a cake, pulled it from the oven as black as charcoal. Then there’s the case of the exploded soufflés and marble cake that turned out to have no marbling at all. Not to speak of the melted... what’re they called again? There’s also a song that’s got to do with them. Jinyoung sings it a lot. Rocky road! Melted rocky roads and millionaire’s breads.”

“Maybe stick to cooking instead of baking. Not everyone has a knack for both.”

He sighs in defeat. “Maybe I should, but I’ll still try to make you something every once in a while that’s actually good.”

“As long as you don’t blow up one of our kitchens.” I include my kitchen as well because the mere thought of baking together spreads a rosy flush throughout my body that leaves me warm with affection. Besides, it’s another excuse to see him wear an apron, maybe pull some shenanigans myself and have something to eat with a cup of tea or coffee and a good book.

That would make for a nice date. We should do that soon.

“I’ll try.” He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

The adorable genuineness of the determined gesture is what drives me to seal the promise by wrapping my pinky around his. “I’ll hold you to it.”

While eating the simple yet well-made dinner, the conversation is about novels, the shop, Jinyoung’s cooking lessons and the weary stories of how Kunpimook and I crossed Bruges in search of the best chocolate. Jaebeom hasn’t done much in the time I was away it seems. The bookshop’s been quiet, so he’s had plenty of time to read and work on his cooking. Nevertheless, his expression turns dreamy when I show him the pictures from the trip, but right beneath the surface of it floats a form of sad longing which is too unclear to be certain of or to be properly described.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m glad you got to see this,” he murmurs as he takes my phone from my hand to leave through the collection again. “I’m kinda jealous, though. It’s been so long since I went somewhere other than here. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been somewhere else.”

Brows furrowed, he tries to remember the last time he travelled. Withal, he comes up short, the melancholy of missing memories staining his voice. “I’ve been nowhere except here. Chained.”

“This place clearly is your home, that’s why it’s keeping you here. It knows you belong here and I’m glad you’ve remained.”

He lets out a breathless laugh which oddly holds the middle between a growl and a giggle. “I’m happy you showed up at my doorstep, then. But, the cottage you’ll be moving to... it’d- it’d be nice if I could make that my home too.’’ His cheeks grow pink like rose petals. ‘’Well, maybe not literally, but it would be nice if it would become our little somewhere.”

“Our little somewhere,” I repeat, charmed by the sound of it.

“Our home. Well, concretely speaking. Abstractly, and most importantly, you are my home.’’ He gets up to move to my side, where he crouches at my feet. Foreheads rested against each other, he easily nips at my nose and nuzzles it affectionately with his. ‘’You are what breaks the silence, makes me able to hope for better days.”

“The same goes for you because even though you sometimes still intimidate and freak me out a little bit, you make my days more interesting than they have been in years. So, thank you. For being here, spending your time in my company.”

“Thank you for the same reasons. Now,” JB leans away to get up and starts to clear the dishes, “how about dessert?”

Before either of us is aware of it, the clock on the wall notes it’s already ten past eight when we finish off the homemade cheesecake. Naturally, partially to also do my fair share, I stand up from my chair before the big wolf man does in an attempt to clear the table and do the dishes. However, when I’m about to walk to the kitchen with them, Jaebeom unapologetically takes them from my hands.

“What’re-? JB, you don’t have to do everything! Let me at least do the dishes.” Flattered yet a tad annoyed by the kindness, and poorly conveying my appreciation, I protest in a harsher tone than I intended to use.

Fortunately, though also a bit comically, he remains unperturbed. Notwithstanding, an unyielding sternness underlines his voice when he responds. “You’ve had a long journey, so sit down and relax. I’ll be right with you after cleaning up.”

Henceforth, unable to protest and rendered comatose by the delicious food, I plop down on the couch. Nestled into the corner, I have a proper view of the man who’s claimed my kitchen for himself.

Although it’s an intrusion to a certain degree, it’s quite soothing to watch Jaebeom defy classic gender roles. Contently humming a song and barely shy of skipping, he cleans up the mess with a tea towel tucked into the side of his pants.

When he’s done, he hangs the tea towel over the stove’s handle, washes his hands, and settles down next to me. On a whim, though it’s maybe because of instinct, I get up from my little corner and nestle against him. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as I drape my leg over his thigh to get into a more comfortable position.

Situated snugly in his safe presence, I close my eyes and sigh in pure content. “Can you stay here tonight?”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to be alone and rest?” he murmurs into my hair.

“I can recharge with you. Besides, you’re nice and warm.” I snuggle up to him more, basking in the mixture of wild wood and cologne. “A perfect pillow.”

He pulls me on his lap, wraps his arms around my body and pulls me flush against his chest, which feels sculpted but not hard with muscle. Abs are nice and all, but I prefer the softness of a defined though not hardened chest.

“If it brings you rest,” he curls his finger under my chin and lifts it, compelling me to look at him, “I’ll stay.”

I run my fingers along his jaw and up to his ear, immediately reducing him to the puppy-like state he tends to get into apparently when being touched like this. “Thank you.”

“My pl- pleasure.” What would have been a normal response is lost in a growl when I accidentally brush against his crotch as I shift my weight and sit up a little.

His eyes snap open, the hazelnut brown and ocean blue irises darkened, devoid of any sense of their former satisfied tenderness. With his thumb he traces the outline of my lips, lowly purring. “Pretty.”

“Jaebeom,” I place my hands on his shoulders, maintaining a bit of distance between us. We shouldn’t rush this, but the sensation of his growing bulge against my thigh, throbbing against the inside of it, convolutes every thought. Somehow, his scent seems to have gotten stronger too, overwhelming me with the same clear message the firm grip on my hips has.

I don’t push him back as he leans in, bridging the emptiness I initiated. Foreheads rested against each other and his calloused hands on my cheeks, he guesses what’s essentially withholding me. “Scared?”

“A bit,” I whimper against his palm, the words muffled by the rough warm skin.

“It’s me, Y/N. I won’t hurt you.” Feverish yet sweetly with persuasive conviction, he kisses me. “I’m your gentleman, your boyfriend.”

“I’m afraid it’ll hurt. That we’re going too fast.”

“We’re not. I want this. I want more of you. With you. But,’’ lips pulled into a straight line, he clears his throat while looking as if he is restraining a wild beast that can easily get the better of him if he lets go, ‘’I’ll leave it up to you.”

So, what you’re asking is…

Jaebeom takes a deep breath to regain his composure, though it has little effect. His breathing remains heavy, close to panting. Nevertheless, the gentle stars return to his eyes as the strained expression softens. “Will you have me?”

#GOT7 #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #Jaebeom smut #Jaebeom x Reader #Jay B #Defsoul #GOT7 smut #Werewolf AU #GOT7 Werewolf AU

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cayofdreams · 4 years ago

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A Jealous King

Summary: Just a drabble about Kacchan being jealous over you doting on your doberman all day

Words: 800+

Genre: Fluff ☁️

Warnings: cursing, the dog is named Gumbo

Notes: I’d been thinking of this little scenario a while so I just wrote it down

“Aww! Who’s the best king in the whole wide world, huh?! C’mon, tell me! Who is it??”

“Bark! Bark!”

“That’s right! It’s you, isn’t it?! It’s my King Gumbo-sama! Awww!! King Gumbo-sama is my veerryyy good king!”

“Bark!”

Bakugou was laying on the bed trying to enjoy his peaceful day off and here you were on the floor, giving all the attention and affection that could’ve been for him to your dog.

Now, Bakugou loved your dog, Gumbo. Gumbo kind of reminded him of you when he first met him because he was so selfish and unapproachable, never letting him around you. He was a protective Doberman, after-all. The only time he even gave Bakugou the time of day, was when he bribed him with dog treats. He had to treat him practically every time he came over or else Gumbo would make sure you took up all your energy and attention.

Granted, you didn’t see Gumbo lot because he stayed at your parents’ which is probably why he hated Bakugou taking away his play time. Gumbo had always been your source and target of affection since you didn’t associate with people a lot growing up, so who was this random man who he suddenly had to share his master with?

Eventually your Gumbo-sama would be more lenient and let him pet his fur but that took about the same amount of time as it did for him to you let you let your guard down with him. And like you, once Gumbo did warm up to him, he would be just as ecstatic about greeting him with jumping in his arms and licking him as he were with you. He even allowed Bakugou to hold and cuddle you while he stayed on the floor sometimes.

But today he guessed Gumbo was pissed at him because he didn’t let him touch you at all, all day. When he woke up to pull you into him for a morning kiss, Gumbo was in the middle of the two of whining for you to wake up. When he wanted to cuddle with you on the couch while watching TV, Gumbo jumped in your lap and curled up on top of you. When he tried to give a him treat to lean off you, he’d eat the treat and then just go back to being on top of you.

He wanted to ask you to pay attention to him but he didn’t want to admit to you he was jealous of a silly dog. So he just layed in bed and grumbled periodically as you laughed and called Gumbo all kinds of affectionate names. But he was reaching his breaking point and needed you to touch him.

“Aww my King Gumbo-sama is just so cute isn’t he?? The cutest little king that could ever rule these lands! I could never have a better king!”

“Bark! Bark!”

“My name USED to be King Explosion Murder, you know?” He grumbled to himself but his back was towards you.

You turned to look at his back and puckered your lips at him before facing your dog again.

“My King Gumbo-sama has made Kacchan jealous, hasn’t he? That’s okay, sweetie, let him be jealous of my baby.” You scratched your fingers along his fur, making sure to ruffle his ears. “He’s just jealous he doesn’t have a queen to adore him right now. Right now, Gumbo-sama is getting allll my kisses!” You pecked him all over his face and wrapped your arms over his body.

“Dammit, I do have a queen! It’s you! So get over here and love me, woman!”

“Bark!”

“You stay out of this!”

You tried not to laugh at your boyfriend getting angry over your attention being to your Gumbo-sama, but he just looked so cute. “Hmm…” You put your finger over your lips trying to feign hesitation. “I don’t know who’s cuter. Is it my Gumbo-sama, or my Kacchan?” You went back to petting Gumbo.

“Who do you think, King Gumbo-sama? Is it you?”

“Bark! Bark!”

“Or is it Kacchan?”

“…”

“Ohh! I think the counsel has made a decision!”

“Oh goddamit!” Bakugou got up from the bed and sprung you over his shoulders, carrying you out of the bedroom.

“Kyaahh! Gumbo-sama, help me! I’m being kidnapped!” You flailed around playfully as your dog barked at you. Apparently his goal of pissing off Bakugou worked because he just sat still and watched you get carried out.

Bakugou threw you on the couch before toppling over you.

“Ughh…I can’t breathe.”

“It’s regicide. Shut up.”

You chuckled and repositioned yourself so you were face to face with him. You kissed his nose and ruffled your fingers through his hair. “Aww, was my King Explosion Murder jealous of a wittle dog?”

“I wasn’t jealous. You just weren’t being a fair queen.” He kissed you back on the forehead.

“Why is this the only time you admit how royal I am?”

“Just shut up and keep stroking your king’s hair.” He dropped his head in your neck and held you tighter.

You giggled into his shoulder, thinking about convincing your parents to let Gumbo-sama stay over more.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #drabble #cayofdreams #cayfanfic #i wish i had a cute pet #tho im more of a cat person

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ginkgomoon · 3 years ago

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Gavin’s Chapter 26 Parallels- Analysis

This was in my drafts for the longest time, but now since new MLDD chapters are out (and with S2 coming), I thought I should finish this post.

I remember watching this chapter for the first time when it came out earlier this year, noticing parallels about Gavin’s time and behaviour displayed in the STF Observation Centre to other Gavin-related details.

Spoilers of Chapter 26 and future content below.

Gavin’s Encounter Summary

MC, with the help of Shaw and Litton, disguises herself as a man to enter the observation centre to find Gavin and clues about her lost Evol.

A device for Evol suppression is placed on every test subject in the centre, and she wonders the pain Gavin must be in.

MC, who? The name’s Mortimer Smith, ID number 134.

MC is placed with her roommate, another Evolver who lost control of their Evol around the TV tower incident.

He tells her, “as long as you don’t cause trouble and listen to the observers, you’ll get along okay.”

She tries to squeeze out some information about Gavin from him, but learns that it’ll be difficult since they don’t use names to address the Evolvers, but instead codes.

MC is summoned to "Evol examination" and MC has hope that she might see Gavin.

She walks down a long corridor with other Evolvers waiting to be examined.

She fails to notice a shadow in front and collides with a hard, sturdy chest.

Her foot slips and grabs onto the mysterious person’s arm as he holds onto her too.

She’s too embarrassed to look at his face.

She notes that the only thing in her vision was her trembling fingertips on his arms.

But without looking, she already knows the arms she’s in.

Emotions build up and she hears his heartbeat.

She grips his arms tighter as she begins to speak.

As the observers approach, Gavin finally looks up, his expression turning cold, and they are SHOOK.

He stares at MC for a long time then turns his head to walk on.

MC lets him walk past.

Her roommate looks at her in disbelief, surprised that she survived an encounter with “No.7" in one piece, thinking that she was “a goner for sure”.

She asks if they’re all afraid of him, to which he replies with a nod.

He says that No.7 is more terrifying than Observers themselves, but then retracts his statement.

Extra: So... has Gavin been having nightmares? :(

Observation Test Centre

The most obvious correlation from other chapters and mentions would be Gavin being named No.7 as his code name, as this number is always associated with him.

This analysis could just end here.

But wait- there's more.

High School

Said to be the “school tyrant” and seen as the outcast, Gavin chose to be misunderstood over conforming to rules- ones that he didn't agree with.

Gavin didn’t have friend groups like everyone else notably did (like MC and her group of friends as they walk down the hallways laughing as Gavin stares googly-eyed from a distance). He had stuck by himself and his own morals like a lone wolf (with his casual but not-so-casual buddy Minor).

MC's roommate: A lot of people that end up here all forms cliques to get along, but he’s always been a lone wolf. And he’s always dealt with anyone who crossed him. Just now you bumped right into him as if you were blind. I thought for sure you were going to get smacked...

Furthermore, Gavin was always the one to challenge authority, whether it would be school teachers or even his superiors later in life. MC stated that Gavin had once fought with a school teacher, but this was probably due to some misunderstanding or that they had existing prejudices against him.

“No.7! Why are you still standing there!?”

Observers continue to call out to him, but Gavin ignores them.

Gavin doesn’t fear that people won’t understand him- he knows that people don’t and won’t, which is also a contributing factor to why he doesn't feel the need to explain himself or his actions to anyone.

But this also is why he also had a rough journey from rightfully staying true to himself. Without any real support system within and outside of school life, Gavin suffered. Luckily, there was Mr Keller who was willing to listen to him. He told Gavin, “since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart". This had a great impact on him.

Additionally, Gavin fears for an entirely different reason. In fact, Gavin understands this sort of fear more than MC realises. Gavin was even more willing to throw himself into this mission when MC was gone because he really had no choice but to continue without her by his side. In Perilous Date, MC and Gavin talk about this its the closing moments.

MC: Gavin, you could be in danger at any time... Do you think it's worth it?

Gavin: I never thought about it... What if I say it's my destiny? Would you believe me? Don't worry. I won't put myself in harm's way again. Seeing you cry is just not worth it.

MC: Aren't you scared?

Gavin: I was never scared before when it was just me. But now... I am.

(Meanwhile MC now in the chapter: *crying*)

MC had kept him moving forward- to become stronger with his goal of protecting her, influenced by his father into joining special training in CN Tilted Time R&S. His father used MC again for Gavin to undergo modification to make his Evol stronger in Chapter 15.

Here’s an extra line that caught my eye:

He stares at MC for a long time then turns his head to walk on. She lets him walk past.

Parallels with their high school moments:

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook. -[Boundary R&S]

Special Task Force

Gavin had returned to Loveland City as Special Agent B-7 to find MC at the very beginning.

Even now stripped of his STF title as Captain, he still embodies justice. With his current knowledge of the identities of Evol criminals, he’s even able to find and make good use of them as a distraction in the Observation Centre.

Gavin’s unapproachability and cold exterior are also highlighted.

MC's roommate: Just now you bumped right into him as if you were blind. I thought for sure you were going to get smacked...

But for MC, he learns from her how to live a more tender life [Spring Festival Date]. For her, he’d live. He’d also help her do anything just so that she wouldn’t have to shoulder anything- even the bare minimum alone. But he hadn’t reflected this upon himself to change- notably seen in Chapter 12-6.

MC: He wasn't like that before when he was with the squad?

Eli shook his head. He opened his phone and brought up a picture, handing it to me.

Eli: He was always like this before.

Gavin's face in the photo was a little immature. Wearing his military uniform, even though he was saluting, there was still an unmistakable look of proud aloofness and unruliness.

New Weapons

After leaving STF, Gavin’s newly appointed code name was NW717. He was able to gain new Evol power by undergoing remodelling experiments. Under NW orders, he snuck into the Observation Centre to find MC, believing that the Evolution Accelerator could lead to some clues.

And no matter what organisation Gavin's under, he’ll always find his way back to her.

This photograph has already turned slightly yellow and has a pretty-looking girl on it. After a while of thinking, I place the photograph next to Gavin’s pillow. Perhaps this way, he can have a good dream. -[CN NW Project R&S]

Emerging from NW, people still were terrified of Gavin, mostly because of his cold aura and powerful Evol, despite his good intentions and his attitudes towards justice. But to MC, he will always Gavin, despite seeming cold and unapproachable to others with this persona. He knows that she’s the one who knows the softer side of him, as the one who he feels is worthy of explaining himself to.

Gavin: You’re the only one I care about, other people’s opinions don’t concern me. -[Go See Him, NW Uniform]

Heart-wrenching reunion after 6+ months of being deprived of each other:

MC: Ga-

Observers: No.7! Why are you still standing there!?

They continue to call out to him, but Gavin ignores them.

He is stunned, his amber eyes freeze then flash with a knowing glimmer. He looks straight at her, his eyes gently caressing her.

Gavin super softly: Don’t cry.

Me: *cries*

Bonus: Gavin's Weibo has 7 beside his name! Additionally, his number in the motorcycle race on the latest date is 7, with his bike having written "B7" and "B7..." displayed.

#MR KELLER #THE DREAMIEST #I love how my format changes every time #mlqc gavin #恋与制作人 #love and producer #mlqc #mr love queens choice #mlqc analysis #mlqc en

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sgrayonderii · 5 years ago

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remnant

SSM20 D25:small victories.

There is something in the house. AU.

Rated K+

Sasuke awakens immediately.

Sarada has not been sleeping well through the night so her parents often would take turns to comfort her. Sakura had just gotten her to fall back asleep.

And the rustling downstairs is not his wife.

There is an intruder in the house.

He grabs the nearest thing he can get his hands on. The darkness of the house makes it difficult to see, but whatever he grasps in his hands is hard and solid.

He quietly descends until he can see the shadowy intruder in between the panes of moonlight filtering through the windows.

And he swings.

Sasuke feels a satisfying crack as his makeshift weapon makes contact.

And he continues to smash whoever or whatever it is until it stops moving.

---

Sasuke is very proud of his house.

It is built on old Uchiha lands on the outskirts of Konoha. Originally, the old dilapidated Uchiha manor was torn down to make room for urban development but for some reason the plans fell through.

When he hears that the plot was back on the market, he knows it’s a sign.

He builds the new house from the ground up, a testament to new beginnings and fresh starts.

It is modest but spacious. Sakura berates him; there is too much room for a family of almost three. Sasuke assures her that the plethora of rooms is an investment for their future children. Sakura lightly smacks his arm, telling him that they should wait for the birth of their first before worrying about others.

He doesn’t have too many memories about his ancestral home; there are vague recollections of his mother singing in the kitchen, of quiet days with his father on the lakeshore, of his brother before everything went wrong.

Sasuke wants his new family to also experience those halcyon days that still remain so fondly in his heart, only if it is partly to relive those nostalgic days,

---

Sasuke awakens to the sound of glass breaking.

It is midday. He must have dozed off while waiting for Sakura and Sarada to return from their impromptu trip to the park. Or was it the grocery store. He cannot quite remember.

There is an indescribable rage when he sees the glass shards littering the carpet of the den. His head is pounding. What if Sarada had been home? What if Sakura had been in the room?

He stalks to the front door and throws it open, slamming it against the brickwork splintering the eggshell paint he had so carefully picked out with his wife.

From the distance, two teenagers are aiming rocks at his home.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!?”

To their credit the two teenagers do look shocked and somewhat frightened, but neither of them put down the stones in their hands.

Perhaps his reaction is a bit much, but he has to protect his family.

Seeing red, Sasuke picks up one of the flower pots on their porch and hurls it as hard as he can at the teens.

They scream and scatter.

He cannot help but feel satisfied at their retreating figures.

---

Sasuke is roused from his sleep by the heavy footsteps outside.

He rolls out of bed with an annoying headache which does not help his mood. Descending downstairs, Sasuke checks each window in the house, trying to locate the source of the noise he heard.

Finally from the large living room window, he spots what appears to be a handyman inspecting the pipes in the backyard.

This could be just a routine scheduled inspection. Or perhaps Sakura had called a plumber or something while he was sleeping. He does not remember if she told him about it, but he is never that coherent after waking up.

Regardless, Sasuke does not want to lose sight of this man, so he stands by the window watching. Sarada is sleeping and his wife must be tired from being up all night, so he needs to make sure this handyman does make too much noise.

After a few minutes, the man outside seems to realize that there is something watching him. When he looks up, the man spots Sasuke at the window and immediately freezes.

Sasuke waves so the man knows that he is there, making sure he does try anything funny. After all, the rest of his family is resting. He doesn’t not want to disturb them. He needs to make sure this man is not a threat.

Surprisingly, the handyman screams. He bolts out of the yard.

Sasuke moves from the living room to the hall to observe the man running for his truck. The handy man takes one last look back, however still seeing Sasuke at the window, all but scrambles into the vehicle before peeling out of the driveway.

Sasuke is annoyed at the noise but a bit of pride wells up in his chest for expelling an interloper.

---

Sasuke groggily opens his eyes.

Someone is weeping.

Slowly he gets up, bones creaking from the stiff position he was napping in and follows the sounds of the sobbing. When he rounds the corner, he finds Sakura standing by the coffee table.

A chill runs through him when he realizes she is the one crying. He hates when she cries. Sakura is clutching a framed photograph. Their wedding picture.

Her tears are flowing freely and falling onto the table top. He notices the wood has become a bit damaged, as if something heavy had fallen on it with great force. Sasuke makes a mental note to have it fixed later.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. He places his hands on her shoulders to comfort her which only causes her to sob harder.

Sakura is saying something, but he cannot make out gargled words between her tears. It sounds almost like halfway between an apology and a question.

“What’s wrong Sakura?” he tries again. Sasuke needs to know what he did wrong.

Sasuke waits patiently for her answer.

But Sakura continues to mourn.

---

The sound of Sakura’s voice wakes him up.

Venturing downstairs, he is surprised to see another person at that doorway. She is dressed in a suit with a shiny realtor badge.

Sakura looks reluctant, but his wife is also kind so she lets this woman inside anyways. Sakura gives the woman a tour, making sure to point out the highlights of the house.

The realtor is impressed, as she should be. “Mrs. Uchiha, this house would fetch quite a price on the market, you would make a small fortune! No time like the present!”

Sakura laughs nervously, obviously uncomfortable.

When Sakura rushes upstairs to grab something, he decides it is time to make his presence known.

“Get out.”

The woman flinches, terrified.

“This house is not for sale.”

He smiles when the woman runs for the door.

---

Sakura returns this time with another person he does not recognize.

She really needs to start warning him about potential guests. Sasuke knows he can be pretty unapproachable, especially after just waking up, but for his wife he tries to be on his best behavior.

The new woman is younger than the last person Sakura brought; on the cusp of adulthood but still a bit of baby fat in her cheeks. She wears red glasses and has her dark hair styled in a short bob, not unlike his wife’s.

The young woman and Sakura are chatting in the living room. Sakura is happily pointing at dusty knick knacks around the house. The young woman nods along, occasionally adding a comment which makes Sakura laugh.

The young woman doesn’t seem like a threat. Sasuke figures he should at least be a good host. Perhaps he should get refreshments? Or should he introduce himself first? He was never really good with pleasantries and socializing.

While deep in thought, Sakura and the young woman have now moved to the hallway near the staircase where he stands. They don’t seem to have noticed him yet.

Sasuke is about to greet them when the young woman asks. “Mama, why are there so many rooms in this house?”

He is confused.

Sakura chuckles softly, sadly “Well your papa, told me it was an investment.”

“Was he planning on having an entire soccer team?” She wriggles her eyebrows and Sakura giggles.

“No, I think he was just so excited to start a family, he went a bit overboard.”

“I’ll say, this place has 5 more bathrooms!”

“That is just how he is. Always going overboard!”

Lost by the conversation, Sasuke unknowingly takes a step back. The old staircase creaks, causing Sakura and Sarada to look up.

“What was that?”

“Well they did say this place is haunted.”

“Sarada.” Sasuke can tell even from this distance that his wife is about to cry. He wants to comfort her, but she is looking right past him.

“Sorry,” there is still a guilty look on Sarada’s face, “I’m sure it was nothing.”

---

He remembers now.

There was something in the house. His singular goal; to protect his wife and child no matter what. A struggle. Pain and darkness.

Yet, how long has it been since that night? Why is he unable to piece together the details of today? His head feels like it is about to split.

But Sakura and Sarada are okay. They are alive, well, and healthy; that’s all that matters. He can rest now. Sakura can answer his questions in the morning. He can catch up with Sarada when he wakes up.

As he falls back asleep, he can’t help but feel victorious.

A/N: Purposely left ambiguous, but I tried to add some hints about what happened to Sasuke. But it’s still probably pretty confusing lol. Happy SSM20! Thank you for reading and stay safe!

#sasusaku #ssm20 #ssm20d25 #sasusaku month #Sasuke Uchiha #sakura uchiha #sarada uchiha #sgrayonderii #sgrayonder #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusakusara

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wolfywordweaver · 4 years ago

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TransMages Week 2021 Day 5 - self love Part 1/2

The air was ringing with the heated words that had spewed out of my mouth uninvited. Words that had been building in my gut for so long and festering until they erupted. I was panting from the exertion, waiting for the feeling of justification and righteousness to wash over me and sweep away the guilt and self-loathing.

But it never came, not when Simon’s stiff shoulders hunched and his head turned revealing tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes.

“Well, thank you for that fucking lovely rant,” he snapped. I felt the cold fist of disappointment clench more tightly in my gut.

“I...”

What could I say? I’d already allowed myself to unload all the hate and fury onto him. Was it time to break down in tears and confess my love? Confess that I could never really hate him, and that the only reason the hurt had festered and the words were sharp was because I hated myself for loving him? For being different from all of my father’s expectations? For missing my mother still even though she had been dead twelve long years?

Should I confess that I only allowed myself to sneer and insult him because I was weak and was unable to avoid looking at his lovely face? That speaking harshly was the closest I could allow myself to saying how desperately I longed for what I was not allowed to have?

He looked down angrily at the floor and I could see a tear roll over his trembling lips, and all the heat of anger whooshed out of me, leaving nothing but a cold grey pile of emotional ash.

“If you’re fucking done, then please piss off,” he muttered and the guilt solidified.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered in response, looking down at my polished black loafers. No one else wore loafers to school - not even Dev. “I didn’t realize...that...”

“That I was hiding in an empty classroom to cry my eyes out?” he growled, and I felt an unfamiliar burn of shame on my cheeks. “That kicking a guy when he’s down isn’t fucking polite or even half-decent? Gee, Pitch, didn’t they cover that in finishing school?”

A half-delirious laugh bubbled up unbidden. Did Simon even know what the heck finishing school was?

Our eyes met for a moment, grey on blue, and I felt the blush burn more deeply. Could he see it against my coppery skin?

Apologizing must have fried my mental circuits because without a second thought I stepped closer to him and asked a horrifying question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

His eyes widened in shock, that gorgeous mouth went slack, and I froze in terror. Never once in my entire life had I asked that question of anyone not a blood relative of me (with the single exception of my brother-in-arms Niall). I, the most unapproachable person in the entire Watford Prepatory School, did not care for nor asked people how they felt much less if they wanted to talk about it. In fact, the only talking I ever did was to respond to school questions, discuss soccer strategies with my coach and teammates, and put down the school’s golden boy.

Simon knew this. We’d been going to school together since Middle School, both of us being accepted into the school without a struggle because my family had a long history with the school and were avid donors, and he because his father was the maniacal Principal. The moment I saw that scruffy, nail-biting twig, my brain knew that he was dangerous and I made it my life’s goal to keep him away from me.

Puberty brought along with it the realization that I was indeed very gay and very much head-over-heels for him. That my magnetic attraction to him was more than curiosity about someone so different from me, but had crossed over into the more dangerous grounds of physical and sexual attraction.

Father was not impressed with my coming out to him and I was absolutely certain that he would actually consider moving me to another school my senior year if he caught wind of me being attracted to this particular male.

“Are you okay?” Simon’s words broke through the fog of my mental agonizing, and I realized that I was leaning back against the teacher’s desk probably looking like I was about to puke. “Shit, man, let me get the trash bin.”

And just like that, even pissed off at me and with tears drying on his face, Simon Salisbury was off being my hero.

Ahem, being a hero. Not mine. Never mine.

The bucket was shoved into my hands a little more roughly than necessary and I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself down. Getting sick in front of my five-year-crush would be the cherry on top of this cake of mortification.

Inexplicably, Simon took a seat at a desk in front of me and rested his head against the smooth wooden top. There were several classrooms that still had the old fashioned style of metal and wood desks, and the one he chose to sit in had a few new carvings in the top.

“Feeling better?” he asked a bit more softly.

I gave a non-committal shrug before deciding that he deserved more of a response. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” I took a bracing breath and decided that I was already knee-deep in this so I might as well move forward. “How about you?”

He shrugged, and it was a familiar sight. Simon shrugged a lot.

“Oh, just fine. Getting told off yet again by the school bitch for being an abysmal failure and a ruiner of lives.”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” I snapped back with a sneer. Yes, I did say that he was ruining all of my hard work, but not my life. I’m not ready to admit that out loud yet. Ruined for life by this beautiful thing.

“What part of that whole fucking rant was not dramatic?!” he growled back and I felt the first twinge of relaxation ease into my muscles. We were moving back to familiar ground.

“Granted, I may have been a bit impassioned in my exclamations of all the reasons you upset me, but what I said was true. I’m the best player our school’s soccer and track team has ever seen, our whole fucking soccer team is the best the school has ever had, and all of my academic and athletic accomplishments would have meant something if it wasn’t for the fact that you and your dad are always hogging the limelight.” I gave myself a mental pat on the back for delivering that without spiraling back into fury. “It’s infuriating to have my accomplishments always overlooked because of your-” The words died in my throat but I saw the slump of his shoulders and the tears that sprang up in his eyes. “Drama,” I ended weakly.

There was silence between us again, and this time I wondered if I should just walk away.

#transmagesweek #Trans Mages Week 2021 #trans masc Simon #high school AU #Simon Snow #Baz Grimm-Pitch #arguments #angst #hopeful ending #(at the end of this prompt)#(not too helpful at the end of part one)

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acefrogmonarch · 5 years ago

Text

Lets chat

This is mostly going to look at Sakura's involvement in the ship, because it mostly revolves around her feelings. If there any refutes please leave them in the notes.

Now SS is seen as a ship in the Naruto fandom. It consists of Sasuke and Sakura in a romantic/sexual setting. It can be a great ship but let's dwell on that later.

For now, it's time to actually look at the ship and see where it stands. Sakura loves Sasuke. It can't be refuted by the characters or JVA or Kishimoto but where does that love come from?

I've been going through the manga and other people's opinions to make something of my own. That is generally how someone can come to a conclusion but enough about human interactions!

Let's start with Sakura!

Sakura is first seen as a fangirl that crushes on Sasuke. That is how we generally see her. Obsessing over Sasuke and his image.

Now that's the opinion of Naruto and probably anyone that is new to the Naruto series. However, as the story progresses we see how Sakura stops seeing Sasuke as an idea. As an unattainable and unapproachable force.

We see Sakura treat Sasuke more as a person, once they are in a team and spend some time together. Sakura realizes that Sasuke isn't perfect and can be hurt, unlike her idealized version of him. It doesn't make her stop chasing him. It drives her more because he was always the invincable Uchiha. The first time this becomes a reality is during the infamous 'c-rank mission turning into an A-rank'.

The Zabuza arc. The most iconic and memorable thing to happen to them. As a team and trying to find their Nindo, their ninja way. It shows how harsh the Ninja world really is.

Back to Sakura; this is her turning point. This is the point that she wanted to change herself because she wants to help others and Sasuke. Because she's scared for him and his life. Up until this point, she has been thrown into the Ninja world without really knowing the full dangers.

She was from a civilian family, she was bullied by others because of her appearance but was saved by Ino. But, because she's always had to be saved. She finds out what her nindo way is: to save others.

This is her drive and this is what pushes her until Sasuke's revenge and hatred, consume him. At this point Sakura has stopped looking at the fantasized version of her crush and sees Sasuke underneath his mask, underneath his hatred.

Then the Chunin exams begin; it is the second time where Sakura finds herself in a helpless situation. At this moment, Sakura has barely made any progress with herself, but she is slowly improving. She acknowledges that even Naruto is ahead of her. This is the first change in character. She knows she isn't as strong as Sasuke, to protect him or help him.

She drowns in her insecurities, so she takes Sasuke's insult to heart. "You're annoying." But she is also encouraged by his acknowledgement when he notices that she can read Genjutsu like the back of her hand.

That's her drive. His approval, it conflicts me to point out the difference as to why this isn't necessarily good. If he was her mentor, it would have been fine. If he was older and a positive role figure for her, it would have been better.

But they are Ninja and compliments are either going to make them bitter or happy. But because he is a peer, her crush. It is unhealthy. To set her personality, her self importance, solely on one person? -as a person and on a growing girl? It affects them and it influences them greatly

Now, the chunin exam comes and goes and so does Sasuke. He leaves the village but before that Sakura tries to make him stay. She pushes her love to him and he rejects her because he has a vendetta. He has a goal outside of the village. A duty to his clan, his mother and to Itachi. But what sakura does is wrong.

I will point out, at any point, how their actions are wrong.

Sakura pushing her love onto Sasuke to make him stop leaving the village is emotional abuse. A small incident, yes, but she tried. Maybe she wasn't going to hurt herself if he left but her unwanted feelings and trying to guilt him into staying is the problem here.

"I had fun on this team and I know you did too." Is a line that stuck with me, throughout this whole interaction. She's trying to get him to understand that he wasn't alone but she wasn't putting his feelings into consideration.

Emotional abuse may be a strong word for something like this but it shows that they don't know that it's wrong. If he had felt guilt this would have stopped him, but he doesn't. It's his mission and stubbornness that lets him leave her behind.

Sakura is stuck at point A again, he leaves. She's helpless again. She isn't acknowledged by him anymore. So she begs Naruto to get him back. To her, to him, to the team. Because she can't help but feel useless and that it's her fault.

She's there in the aftermath. To clean up the wounds and get stronger. She has to rely on herself at the point because Naruto soon leaves to get stronger, as well.

This is the end of Genin Sakura. Shippuden Sakura is a different person entirely.

But before that, let's stop. I want to mention something. Sakura isn't a girl that will commit to something just because someone else is. I'm referring to her rivalry with Ino.

Before she knew that Ino liked Sasuke, Sakura liked Sasuke's admiration. Then she saw how Ino reacted to Sakura's obvious crush and started noticing more social cues. I.E. Hinata's crush on Naruto and his dullness to his surroundings. But oblivious to her own turmoil until Ino and her talk things out as teens.

Ugh shippuden. Let's get this over with..

Sakura returns with the confidence she lacked from when she was a Genin. That is a given. That is supposed to happen, you realize something you didn't before and move forward with your life and choices. But she doesn't ask for forgiveness from her friends for her attitude.

Because it's her attitude. She built herself up because no one else can do that for her. It still doesn't excuse her, she has to realize a border between herself and her actions. They have meaning and they have weight. It doesn't affect Naruto because nothing stops him but that doesn't mean that it's okay.

Moving on to the ship and yes: this issue will be back with NS.

Onto SS shippuden!

Sakura is more mature and is still after Sasuke. Because she feels responsible? Because she feels like she can support him? Because she wants to help? None of those are love. They are obligations. They are promises. They can be confused as love.

She might have felt guilty because she hadn't done as much when she was younger. It's at this point where I can't see Sakura as in love. Because of her guilt, because she feels responsible for him and his actions. But I will try to find some way to see it. Or understand it as such.

Something I didn't mention before is the curse mark and Sakura's reaction to it. The reason why I saved it to now is because it mostly represents how much has changed between them and how much of their old bond has deteriorated. It shows a passage of time between them.

The curse mark and Sasuke's obsession have been influenced and enhanced by the curse mark. That scared Sakura back when she was a genin, In the forest of death. she didn't want that to happen to him, to lose himself in that hatred. Meeting Sasuke back in Orochimaru's abandoned lab and seeing him for the first time: Shocked her.

He's no longer the Sasuke she knew from before but that didn't stop her from helping him. If it was "undying" love or obligation, I wouldn't know.

This makes her stance on wanting to kill Sasuke that less confusing; at least to me. It's her love/obligation that makes her resolve. She owes it to him. To stop his pain, to help him; even if it's killing her to go through with it.

But she doesn't follow through because it felt like betraying his goal and her love for him.

I will not be looking at her false confession: that will be covered in the NS analysis.

I only have one thing to say about that: in regards to SS. It makes sakura's feelings for Sasuke look like an inconvenience. To the mission, to her duty and to her team, because it is. But not because it inconveniences everyone else: just her.

Naruto turns it into his goal. Kakashi owes Sasuke, the proper mentor he should have been instead of being lenient. Sakura lets her feelings get into the way of the mission time and time again. The false confession, too flustered to stop him or kill him. Almost giving up on him and risking the mission. Almost killed by him.. twice.

I'm not solely blaming Sakura but Naruto and Kakshi both could've taken themselves out of the situation and go around to deal with conflicting feelings much later. Kakashi stops being the designated jonin leader because he couldn't stop Naruto like Yamato can. Naruto went with Jiraiya to help with the Kurama's chakra and get stronger.

Edit: Okay. Maybe Naruto isn't the best example but both Sakura and Him have priblems when dealing with Sasuke.

They let Sasuke's abandonment be a learning experience. Sakura is the only person behind and still stuck in the past. Because it is something she desperately clings to. It's why she doesn't give up and why she tries a false confession; it's a normalcy she wants back.

The war is probably the only place I can play off after this point. Because it's the most interactions between them at that point. Sakura meeting Sasuke on the battlefield is like living a nightmare. The one place she didn't expect him to show up and he still surprises her.

But she still doesn't know him, not like before. Fighting with him again, side by side, instead of against; is a sign of trust she isn't ready but will do because it's her duty. But she probably wants to show off and show she may look the same but is a different person entirely.

I wish this is the path she took. Instead we see her quickly bring him back into her life and rejuvenate Team 7. It's a bittersweet/nostalgic moment; the climax before the battle. It's just like before. Before he left. Except it shouldn't. It's the last battle to determine all, they are about to die. I get that but there should be boundaries.

"I'm not here for you, I'm here to protect the Ninja alliance." Sakura should have said something along those lines. But it's a shounen battle manga, that doesn't talk about feelings, moving on. They have a lot to talk about and during the black period, it should be a process of healing.

Yes, I'm still on this scene. Sakura's love can be described as unconditional. She will always hold a torch for him. Because she cares for him and his goals. That is what she's made to be and I hate it.

It's consistent, supportive, and it's to help him. Unconditional can be made out to be parental or motherly but for Sakura it's an innocent kind of love. It's passionate.

Should I even go analyze the two attempted murders? I'd rather go over Sasuke's love.

Now Sasuke's love is a much more simple case compared to Sakura.

Sasuke doesn't love or accept Sakura's love until adulthood.

Because he's no longer a curious and hopeful child and is now a socially awkward adult.

He doesn't know what to do with that.

He doesn't know how to handle that. His whole life, full of vengeance and looking for answers. A single goal but now; he no longer has a drive. So he looks within himself and seeks atonement for his actions.

He stays busy because he knows he's going to have to answer her. He needs answers within himself to see if he can accept her love. He might not feel worthy or okay with her love, after all, he put her through hell.

I sincerely hope he begs for fucking forgiveness from Sakura after this whole shit show of shippuden.

If Sakura's love is unconditional then Sasuke's is appreciated. He's thankful to Naruto and Sakura, they didn't give up on him. It might not be pure, adult, lust, passionate, or innocent; But it is there.

I don't see the men being as self aware of their actions or feelings. In the sense that they don't feel guilty for their actions. Men and women justify it, they all have too. Because they are ninjas and it's at this point where guilt may not have a huge impact on them.

"To finish the mission." and "No matter what." It's these thoughts and feelings that make up their personality. To commit to something, to finish what you started without fail and with your life.

Regardless, Shippuden and Boruto both make a great point that Sakura knows Sasuke, Intimately and Fully. She took the time to understand his pain and hatred. She took the time to help him, even when he didn't want it.

Sasuke didn't do that for Sakura, he can barely accept her love and acceptance. The knowledge that someone loves him, is enough.

Sasusaku is a good ship that supports each other. Sasuke is greatful for Sakura's constant signs of affection, even if he can't accept them. Sakura looks to Sasuke as a goal, one she needs to find within herself. She envies his skill but doesn't let that stop her or let her become bitter towards him.

That's the bare necessities, the foundation. But it progresses into something horrible and I stop shipping at that point.

Edit: The clear reason to me, as to why Sasuke liked Sakura back, is because he admires her strength. The strength that saved him from his emotional darkness and inner turmoil.

At this point he allowed himself to stop wallowing in self pity and hatred and let her in. This is adult Sasuke, this is resolve for her. So he tries to love again.

If that last statement doesn't make sense, it's because of Itachi. That should explain enough, if it doesn't go to notes!

#sasusake #sasusaku #sasuke #sakura #too mamy tags #but hi #nuetral #debate #hiii #character breakdown

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chefjarredjarred · 4 years ago

Text

Anxiety. (excerpt)

People. “They're the worst,” Jerry once concurred with Elaine. And they are.

So I didn't really want a job as a verification specialist for a background check company, making a hundred phone calls a day to anywhere in the country, but there was a time when it was a job I needed; it was remote so I could do it from my living room, it supplemented my main income from cooking and barbacking, and I was allowed to adjust my own schedule around that other work and my Tuesday morning therapy sessions.

But Jesus Christ, the people: the combative, the confused, the cavalier, the crotchety; the mousy, the crazy, the stupid, the lazy; the disgruntled, the bitter, the hateful, the bossy; the scammers, the liars, the paranoid; the unintelligible, or, through no fault of their own, the foreign; the mouth breathers, the assholes; the fast food workers, who are always a grab bag. I got them all, every day. And just one nice old lady from Florida, Ms. Charlene.

I got the job in part by cherry-picking some of my old chef experience and molding it all up into a wad of passable bullshit in the interview. Not lies, you know, just bullshit. I sold the personal importance of always speaking concisely and effectively, and of remaining cool and courteous and logical even when being angrily berated by the most ignorant, disrespectful know-nothings. Okay, so that one tiny lie. I made no mention of smashing saucers, slinging sheet pans, or every chef's favorite, smiting servers. (But come on, FOH, y'all know when you're asking for it.) I gave no indication that my rage, anxiety, and feelings of undeserved victimhood and exhaustion were a nest of coiled snakes, something every person who has ever worked in a kitchen around me could sense. Do your job, leave the attitude outside the kitchen doors, and speak only of pith and pertinence during service. Don't fuck with me, don't get fanged.

A bartender I worked with for years once called me unapproachable. It was in the same breath that she called me a dick, proving that the robotic personality of feigned professionalism and phony positivity (every company has their Stepford Wives, don't they?) on which she prided herself—loathed by so many in the restaurant—could be cracked, and I loved that I had been the one to do it. But the part about being a dick wasn't a bold quotable. My being unapproachable became a favorite running joke for years, perverted and perpetuated by me. Y'all think I'm unapproachable? I am. Fuck off.

But that's truncated, for effect and time. Fuck off, I have a job to do, is the real, full statement, and a linchpin tenet of my style of cheffing. I don't need loud voices, loud noises, disrespect, emotional clouding, confusion, excuses, etc., or that irritable anxiety snake could be disturbed. “Just the facts, ma'am.” There's just no time for the extraneous.

Don't disrupt the flow of food.

That's the principle I emphasized in the interview, just folded into the bullshit wad that made it applicable to phoning idiotic, ornery strangers—and Ms. Charlene. Obviously, I had to omit the venom, violence, viciousness, the vitriol. There was already a tiny stumble in there when the interviewer asked if I would describe myself as an introvert, and I, being honest to a fault at the most inappropriate moments, confessed that I would.

“You do know what this job is, right?”

I actually didn't, right up until about two seconds before that question, but I recovered gracefully, explaining some crap about being able to turn on the smiles and pleasantries when I meant business, something like that.

Fake smiles. Ugh. God dammit. I actively campaign against them. A fake smile is the opposite of Fuck off, of the pith and pertinence, the order and efficiency I expected, of just the facts. It's a capitulation, a white flag.

You know what I absolutely hate more than people? The expectation that I'm obligated to give them a fake smile. It's a banner that says you're willing to accept the extraneous, the unexpected, that whatever they are about to say and the way they will say it has some compelling power over you, and that you have all the time in the world to stand there and graciously let it be unloaded onto you. That your anxiety is not there and not real.

That you are approachable.

Fake smiles are blood in the water. That's right, when it goes from snakes to sharks.

“What we always say here is 'Smile and dial!'”

It was a virtual interview, and he couldn't see or hear my feet double-kick-drumming the floor. But what he did hear and what I couldn't believe was the fake laugh I forced through my fake smile. Jesus, Jarred, you're escalating? Allowance is support. “Sure, sure,” I said, as if I were a lifelong brown-noser. You're a disgrace.

“If you can run a kitchen, I have no doubt that you can do this.”

I didn't either. That's misinformation, that anxiety is simply fear. I wasn't afraid I would fail (literally anyone, barring anxiety, can be a verification “specialist”). In fact, I was totally confident I could succeed...theoretically. He said it: If I could run a kitchen, I could do this. The things that worried me were the scheduling, sleeping, caffeinating, eating, speaking, putting on my fake personality with my fake smile, and juggling and maintaining it all every day without falter, without letting on that there was any internal difficulty. I worried not about my actual job performance, but how I might struggle to simultaneously perform and hide my character flaws, i.e. the stuff that I left hanging out in the open when I was a chef. Does that make any sense?

Anxiety, not fear.

So the job was simple, but not easy, and there was a lot to make an anxious person anxious: the people, of course; the never-ending flood of calls; the quick navigating of the system when someone backpedaled or said something inaccurate or swung their mood in an instant; the software glitches; the hold music. Every second of the workday, even your coffee-caused poop break, was timed and factored in to your production average. You were judged and graded by making a ton of calls and/or closing as many cases as you could, which sounds fine, but is actually decided by chance more than some mathematical guarantee. That angered me the most, watching my closes and “touches” tabulated throughout the day, working against each other, my percentage of success being stretched thinner and thinner as I piled up calls that became mere touches rather than closes. It was the opposite of what we really wanted, and the secret little opposite of what we were trained to believe. The pessimist in me knew that the given goals were just out of reach, of course, so we would unknowingly meet the real goals and feel worthless at the end of the day, like we hadn't done enough. The realist in me hated the pretending that we had any control over it. The fatalist in me knew that it didn't matter, but could not force the crippled, anxious existentialist in me to just shut the fuck up.

...Oh, there is no optimist in here, if you were waiting for it.

I knew the fatalist was right after a sweet, timid childcare worker put me on hold to find something useful for me, which would only be a different number or a different person or, if life were easy, the name of a recognized third party verification website. This was 10:40 in the morning, in my first hour of the workday that was already a little too unfruitful. I watched the timer tick away, and when she returned, she had found...an unrecognized third party verification website. That meant I had to type a message into our Teams chat to request a supervisor's review and approval to put the name of the website in the little box and move to the next call.

Eight minutes had now passed as I waited for an answer. I had let the worker, Taylor, hang up already so she could get her eyes back on what wild heathens she may have had under her watch. It was a personal rule of mine to never hold restaurant workers or childcare workers hostage on the phone, because their work was more important than mine. I thought about the time my mom came to pick me up from one of these daycare facilities, walking in at the same time as another little boy's father, together to catch the perfect and precise moment that I socked that boy right across his jaw with full force, superhero super-spinning into that punch in defiance of his superior strength and grip of my head as he had tried to slam my skull into a wooden shelf for a second time. We were bloody, snotty, and sweaty in the throes of killer instinct, but I still caught the looks of horror on our parents' faces. Why the fistfight happened, I don't remember, but how? Well, because someone who was supposed to be paying attention, wasn't. Kids will go feral and push the boulder on Piggy as soon as your back is turned. I let Taylor off the phone for that reason. I waited for a supervisor's response in the chat, watching the seconds count on and that first hour, and thus the rest of my day and any hope of average achievement, drift away from me. They told me the site was no good and I needed to call poor Taylor back and try again. I sighed, copied the number and clicked the button, explained to her what was happening, and with real politeness she placed me, again, on hold. She came back with a phone number but the same uncertainty.

But in the chat, a supervisor had offered another phone number, different from what I was now taking down on the call. I was urged to try that one instead, so I let Taylor go back to the children a final time, and made my third phone call of the case. An automated message finally pointed me to a recognized third party verification website, and gave the particular employer code needed to access it. The anxiety snake and the rage snake were waking and knotted. I clicked the Other Automated Method button...and the system skipped on to complete the case, without letting me input the website or the code. “No, hell no.” I backed up and tried again. Same result, the skip. I went back to the chat and explained, and typed “Can someone please help me before my head explodes” with no punctuation.

A supervisor called me, and I shared my screen with her. “Let's see what happ—Oh, the client put it on hold, so just exit. It doesn't matter.”

It doesn't matter.

11:01. One close, 13 touches. I was white hot.

The anxiety, the rage, the pessimism, realism, fatalism, the whole nest of snakes was awake and wiggling, tossing, tangling themselves up like a... Well, you know. Like a rubber-band ball. I violently ripped the headset off of me, pushing breath through my teeth like the snarling little Jarred who punched that stupid kid in the mouth in the daycare brawl. I thought about that famed image of the snake eating its tail, whatever it's called. I thought about quitting. I thought about how two days before, my therapist and I had tried to come up with a suitable and available grounding technique I could try to prevent this exact, inevitable moment, this kind of anxiety attack. I thought about telling her how I thought that I was failing at everything. You're a disappoi— Shut the fuck up, Jarred—

It doesn't matter? I thought about that, that every moment of the day was part of the calculation of my performance grade for something ultimately shrugged off. That I spent 20 fucking minutes wasting my fucking time to get something that doesn't fucking matter but earns for me a judgment as if it does fucking matter.

But I thought about how I needed that little bit of extra money, and the other reasons for seeking and taking the job. Breathe, Jarred.

And that was not an isolated incident. Every day I fought for the energy and will to tether myself with the headset, log in, and hear the first ring. It came immediately, every single morning. I'd close my eyes and siiiigh through that first ring, just before being snatched along and pummeled by the frenzy.

I tried earnestly the smile-and-dial one time. I felt like Nicolas Cage in one of those especially wacky scenes of Face/Off. A total psycho, unhinged.

The calls were recorded and scrutinized, for quality and legality, and a handful a month were sent back to me to review whatever I had done wrong, or what I could do better.

Ah, yes. So there was another itchy, irritating thread of anxiety even on the less violent days.

Do you ever hear your own recorded voice and you hate yourself and wish you had never been born? Yeah, me too. So I only ever listened to one call and that was enough of that. I didn't want to hear myself. That voice wasn't mine, it was some cartoon-like, nasally Billy Bob Thornton's voice, reverberating somewhere way up high in the sinuses.

A hundred calls a day is a lot of talking. I began obsessing over how I pronounce—among many other things—the number four. There were fours everywhere, embedded, like chocolate chips in cookie dough, throughout almost every case number, and in our callback number I had to recite on dozens of voicemails per day. I wondered if I could trust my own ears in hearing the way I would say it, or if in reality I sounded like I was four. Fohwuh. Every day I ran this mental gamut of self-critique and insult, concentrating insanely on the most minute and deliberate flicks and curls of my tongue and lips. Any word becomes weirdly unnatural when you pay such specific attention to it. But I put so much (too much) effort into working on a competent phone voice not only so I wouldn't sound like a jackass, but so I could be efficient in my work and thus keep up with the production quota. I needed 20 touches an hour, not 13, so I needed people to understand me so I could get in, get out, and get on the next call. My strategy was to try and emulate the radio voice of Christopher Kimball—polite, proper, pronounced, professional. In my dirty pajamas, sitting on a lumpy pillow on a hand-me-down office chair as it was clawed to pieces by my screaming cats, I wanted to sound like I was wearing a bow tie. Like I was in a real office without cats, with a real college degree framed proudly on the wall. Polished and prepared.

It's hard work, if you can imagine. I'm not a talker. I don't like strangers. They're unpredictable. Any unexpected wrench in the routine could prove how fragile the facade is, that I'm actually a wobbly stack of quivering, anxious gremlins pretending to be a presentable person in, I guess, an imaginary bow tie.

It's hard work, if you'll let me say that again. But I thought I was doing pretty well. I hadn't cussed anyone out and I hadn't hurled the computer through the window, at least.

Then one day I called an office in Shelby, North Carolina. A woman answered, lazily, and I stated my reason for calling. She just said, “Hold on,” dismissively, with no practiced professionalism whatsoever. There's a lot of that out there. A rare treat then it was when I spoke with anyone trying to exude the same level of maturity as I, during business hours. My Kimball voice was for your benefit, lady. You didn't care. I know this because instead of really putting me on hold, instead of pressing a button to leave me in that telephonic waiting area listening to one of those overused cheap songs, like the one with the incessant MIDI claps that makes my toes tense and my teeth clench and jarringly reminds me that the anxiety is always bang-bang-banging at the door of the closet I locked it in, instead of just conducting two seconds of mundane business like a normal goddamn person, this woman just set the phone down on her desk and, evidently sickened beyond composure, blurted to her coworker, “God, I hate when someone clears their throat while I'm on the phone with them.” I did?

There I was, exposed, a bunch of phlegmy gremlins, collapsing and scrambling. Instantly I remembered the time my dad and stepmom asked me if I was on some kind of drug, because I cleared my throat “a lot.” Yeah, I don't know what they were talking about either, but apparently this involuntary habit is remarkably frequent. And a hundred calls a day I was doing this. How many of these people find me disgusting, inhuman, or think I'm on drugs? How about people in everyday life? Do my friends mock me? Who taught you how to function, Jarred? My mind spiraled, the snakes squirmed and seethed.

The rest of the phone call was stiff and clumsy, tears welling like a porn star's while I silently packed down the coughs and chokes congesting behind whatever ball of bile bottlenecking at the back of my throat, because I should die right on the living room carpet, sacrificial and blue, lest I irk this absolute cuntbag's social sensitivities, gurgling grotesque and oozing disease.

But am I crazy or...ahem...is that just trivially fucking inoffensive? If I had frog squatted on my desk and—“Verify this, bitch!”—farted into a metal basin full of Cracker Barrel gravy, then sure, be mad. Slam the phone down. Say to the guy by the copier, “Why me?!” and vow to get me fired. But if a natural, nonchalant throat-clearing infuriates you enough to comment on it, you're honestly just an asshole. It's not a frog squat gravy fart, it's not a rude personal affront. It's somewhere way below open mouth chewing, there around unfortunate but necessary nose blowing. I'm gross, you're gross, we're all gross. Get over it, and then, Fuck off, I have a job to do.

I did briefly wonder if maybe she's an anxious person too, a gremlin, maybe her facade is as fragile as mine, but I don't think so, because her attitude when she answered my call had already indicated to me that she never dressed up in a fake bow tie. She thinks she's a normal person: reckless, careless, unprofessional. No phone tone, no Kimball timbre. And because of that, she gave me another thing to worry about, to nag at me, something uncontrollable that I'd be trying to temper, something unconsciously mechanical now made noticeable and manual and clumsy. Thanks.

I was just worried about my goofy voice.

If you're thinking that it's all just a little silly and ridiculously minuscule, then congratulations, you're one of those “normal” people, like Ms. Shelby North Carolina. You make our lives worse.

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obeymematches · 5 years ago

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Hello ♡

I hope you're doing well! I've been following your blog for a while now and I've finally gained enough courage to send in a matchup request. This is my first request here so I hope I did well in describing myself! Also, I'm sorry if my grammar's bad ^^'

To start off, my mbti is infp-t while my enneagram is 4w3. I'm a really private person and it can be quite challenging to really know me - which explains my small social circle. Those who are close to me has said that I'm actually really hard to read (I swear it wasn't intentional! I really thought I was easy to read but I was wrong after all lol). In social settings, I'm often quiet and prefer observing rather than engaging myself with other people. I would give them a smile to be polite though but I won't talk unless it's about something important. I'll always make sure to think twice before I talk too, so that I wouldn't offend anyone by accident. While I'm not much of a talker, I won't hesitate to speak up if anyone disrespects my beliefs and personal values.

Despite how unapproachable I may appear, I'm a huge emotional mess and I have a deep interest in trying to understand other people. I do have the desire to be noticed by others but at the same time, I kinda didn't want to draw too much attention on me. When I'm around people that I'm comfortable with, I won't even bother to hold back my feelings. I love trying to make people happy and I'm always ready to listen to other people's problems, hoping so that I could lessen their worries and burdens. As an empath, I can absorb other people's emotions and put myself in their place - though, it can be overwhelming for me sometimes. I'm also quite affectionate and goofy once I'm comfy with the person.

I'm protective over the people I love and will do anything I can to defend them if things go wrong. While I dislike arguments and conflicts, I won't hesitate to fight someone if they bother the ones I'm close with. I also have a really huge soft spot for children lol. I'm quite adventurous and a curious person by nature. I always try new things for new experiences since I get bored easily. I had to admit that I have the attention span of a goldfish. Also, I'm pretty ambitious but I gotta admit to my laziness. Also also, I'm simultaneously am and not competitive. Honestly, I'm a walking contradiction (I'm literally confused with my own personality sometimes).

My bad qualities would be that I can be too idealistic and I'm also procrastinative. I can be impractical too. There are also times when I let my insecurities overtake my mind and during those times, I will become more distant. I'm also prone to taking things personally and is easily offended. When I'm offended, I'll become very sarcastic (I'll even act all petty if I'm too offended and honestly, it wasn't something that I'm proud of at all). I can be pessimistic too when things are rough and I tend to underestimate myself a lot. I'm also an overthinker and easily distracted. I can lose track of thoughts while I was speaking if I'm too excited about the topic because my brain will go all over the place and become scattered. ^^'

I love expressing myself through art! I'm still in the process of improving my skills for digital paintings tho. My hobbies include drawing, listening to classical music and lo-fi, daydreaming and reading. I'm also really interested in learning languages and psychology. Other than that, I find it fun to learn about other people's beliefs!

What I look for in a partner is someone who is confident, would take the time to really understand me for who I am and someone who is just as adventurous as me! I would love to explore new things and get ourselves lost in a huge city together or something ya know 😂 I thought that it would be so much fun and thrilling to figure things out together while learning new stuff. Other than that, I want them to accept me for who I truly am without any judgement. I'm more than open to making a few changes in my lifestyle in order to improve myself for them, but I really hope they'll be able to do the same thing for me ^^ I really appreciate it when someone's matured, respectful, open-minded and thoughtful. Since I can be really non-confrontational during conflicts, I would also really appreciate it if they have the effort to pull me out from my headspace and talk things out with me and resolve the issue. I also appreciate intelligence and patience in a partner.

Thank you for taking the time to read my description and thank you for the matchup! I'm sorry if it's too long for your liking tho! I really love your blog so keep up the good work ♡

------

Hi!!!

Thank you for sending in a request! awwwwww i’m happy you worked up the courage <3

I hope you like the result!

I have Simeon, Diavolo, Solomon and Satan on my mind..

Okay so I decided to match you with Solomon!

Here is why:

So you mention confidence is super important to you so that narrows down the circle to him and Diavolo. Solomon has no issues with being confident and spending time around him would probably boost your own confidence as well.

Similar to you, Solomon is also someone who keeps quite a lot to himself and it really takes time to get to know him. Both of you being the same in this regard will probably slow things down a bit, but he is good at reading people I believe. (he is probably not on the same level as Satan but he is still really good at it)

I think he can be quite a bit talkative, but again he does it in a way that you don’t acually get to know much about him, even when he talks a lot. This balances out the relationship well, as one of you is a bit more quiet when the other is more talkative.

I have a feeling he would be the one to start conversations for a while. You declare yourself an unapproachable but thats ok! in his eyes that just makes you stand out more and he likes that!

I think he would find it interesting that you are so quiet or only talk when you must, and he would probably ask you about it. like were you not feeling well? but when he learns that you are just more of an observer he would find it adorable. he kind of makes it his secret goal to make you more confident in social settings. however when its just the two of you, he is always eager to hear you out!

I don’t think he would talk much about his worries or burdens to you even after you two open up more to each other. Definitely not major issues. But he always appreciates that you are there to listen to him in case he wants to talk about something! Or if he does he does it rather slowly, like always telling only one part of an issue. I think he is rather independent.

Oh, he could tell you a lot about many different stuff to keep you from being bored, so no worries! like witchcraft, magic, and the like

Another reason why I picked him for you is that he is rather realistic, so he could balance out your tendencies to be idealistic.

He is very quick to catch your changed behaviour and would notice you becoming more distant when your insecurities are taking over. But I don’t think it would make him insecure and question your relationship, like i definitely don’t see him sitting and thinking if you are about to break up or what. Instead he would make time for the two of to be private asap and he would directly ask about you acting differently and if you want to talk about it.

Another reason why I think he is good for you is that generally he is not offensive? like some of the brothers can be, but I don’t think so it’s true for Solomon. So it’s a safe choice and there wouldn’t be any conflicts about that.

In case someone else offends you I think he would curse them without you knowing

Your hobbies are not exactly the same but in a healthy relationship that shouldn’t be an issue right? idk what part of of the human realm he is from but theres a chance he is not from the same country as you, and if that is the case the two of you could teach the other your mother language!

i have a strong feeling he knows ancient latin.

I think he is also someone who thrives to know as many stuff as possible. but like he is probably a Faust

Oh he is very much into adventures! idk where you are at in the story so i don’t want to spoil anything but in canon he is known to have visited all the realms at least once.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me matchup #obey me solomon #solomon obey me #om! solomon #obey me undateables #swd obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #om!#submission

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patandpran · 4 years ago

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The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 9

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom’s finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training. What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince’s Squire?

Find the Masterpost here Read on Archiveofourown here.

Lord Mil and Sarawat arrived together on the field just as Man and Boss were completing their story of the two young men’s coming of age ceremony. Tine could practically feel Sarawat’s intense gaze boring into him but as soon as he saw the pair approaching, Tine made a point of turning back toward his work but not before catching Lord Mil shooting him a look with narrowed eyes.

Tine had never experienced hostility of any sort from the Lord so the interaction threw him for a bit of a loop. Tine recalled over the few weeks of training that Mil had made a point of being quite friendly and instantly worried that the Prince had shared the happenings of the evening before with his close friend.

Before Tine could overthink it any more, Dim called the Squires and Knights to attention with a booming voice, “All right. I am sure you all are feeling the effects of last night’s festivities but I have no sympathy for your bad decisions so we are jumping right in today whether you like it or not. There is only one month until the final Knight trails so training is going to be more intense than you have ever imagined. In a week’s time we will be venturing beyond the castle walls on a battle and survival training mission so make you sure you have your helmets on straight for it will be an experience that you will not soon forget. Squires will also be in attendance for this journey of wills.”

The announcement sparked a flurry of discussion amongst the Knights and Squires. Tine saw out of the corner of his eye that the Prince was about to approach him but, thankfully, Ohm ventured over and the Prince froze in place before opting to join Sir Man and Sir Boss instead.

“You disappeared last night.” Ohm accused as he neared Tine. “Mil had us up far too late. I think I consumed a whole barrel of wine to myself. Needless to say I woke up feeling as if your brother was hammering my head on his blacksmith slab.”

“Did I do something to offend Lord Mil last evening?” Tine wondered with his tone lowered. “I mean, I know I am not very warm to him for obvious reasons but he seems to also view me as an enemy now. I suppose that, at least, puts on a level playing field.”

Ohm shrugged, “Mil can be so hot and cold with how he feels about people. Did you say something to the Prince while you two ran off together? You know they are close so maybe Mil is just being protective.”

“No. Nothing happened.” Tine sputtered, trying to keep himself calm so that his best friend did not see through the ruse. He remembered the promise he made to Fong earlier than morning and questioned, “Would you be inclined to see Fong again?”

At the very mention of Fong’s name, Ohm’s eyes lit up and he responded eagerly, “Yes. I mean, of course.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange it.” Tine nodded curtly before noticing that Sarawat had walked over, clearly ready to put on his armour.

“Your Highness.” Ohm nodded respectfully to the Prince. “Tine, I should go help Lord Mil but keep me informed on the… situation.”

Tine smirked at his friend but wished Ohm could remain near them to serve as a buffer but he and Sarawat were going to have to navigate the previous evening’s event at some point and it looked like that moment was now. Tine braced himself for an accusation or a question from Sarawat but instead the Prince was silent as Tine began to outfit him with his amour.

Throughout the whole practice, Sarawat did not say a word beyond what was necessary to Tine. It felt like a sharp wind had extinguished the fire that usually seemed to be lit inside Sarawat. It seemed like something had dimmed and Tine even noticed his gaze was not as sharp as it usually was. The Prince was going through the motions and it was incredibly hard to watch.

At the end of the morning practice, Tine made to follow Sarawat to the storage quarters but the Prince held up a hand and simply ordered, “Thank you, Squire. I can take it from here.”

Tine felt as if he had been slapped squarely across his face as he watched the Prince walk away, his head hanging. Tine turned away from the sight and was met with another intense glare coming from Lord Mil. Tine forced himself to remember his purpose in the castle: rise to take revenge.

This was exactly what was needed to get him back on his path. It was no use to him to build relationships when, ultimately, his goal was to disrupt the very class system that some of those people operated in. The way that Lord Mil was looking at him affirmed this belief for Tine. There was always going to be those who looked down on him, even if he now carried a title with his name and lived within the castle walls. The kingdom was corrupt. The system was broken and even though he know that it was impossible for one commoner to change that, he was going to do the best he could with the little power that he had and that started with helping Sarawat to complete his Knight training.

+++++++

A pair of eyes watched as the Prince walked away from his Squire.

The Head Knight had noticed a while ago that the Sarawat had a unique relationship with his Squire and through the whispers he had heard from the servants, the pair even met outside of the usual training times. The Head Knight recognized skill when he saw it and the Prince’s Squire was a valuable fighter. He would have made a great Knight if he had not been a commoner.

His son had informed him that since the Squire’s arrival, the Prince had changed, some might even say for the better. His work ethic in practice was strengthened and his overall mood seemed to be lifted. Mil, of course, being the Prince’s friend said this with fondness but the Head Knight never approved of his son’s friendship with the Prince. Since they were young, they were meant to be rivals, not comrades. If the Prince was becoming a stronger fighter, this threatened Mil’s station as the Kingdom’s most promising new Knight.

The Head Knight would not have that so he set the wheels in motion to eliminate the new factor of the equation….

++++++++++

The days passed at an snail’s pace and Tine found himself focusing on their trip beyond the castle’s walls to keep himself from imploding mentally. The silent treatment from the Prince had become a daily practice, even during their private training sessions, although they were not exactly private anymore as the Prince had invited Sir Boss and Sir Man to join them which Tine actually found himself relieved about.

One evening during one of the practices, Sir Man approached Tine as Sarawat and Boss were in the middle of a scrimmage. Man looked a bit nervous and Tine had no frame of reference for what Man was going to possibly say to him.

Man cleared his throat and reached into a pocket before revealing a small piece of parchment, tied with a strip of leather. Man looked to see if Boss or the Prince was looking their way before passing it off to Tine who looked at Man incredulously.

“From your brother.” Man explained in a whisper.

At this, Tine’s eyes widened but he concealed the message quickly, wondering how much Man had risked even bringing it into the castle. He knew that Type had made Man’s mask for the ball but he did not know that Man had managed to see Type again after the initial interaction. Type found himself envious of Man but did not bring this up. It also worried Tine that Type had shared their familial connection with Man, a person Type barely knew. It was all so out of character for his brother but Tine was grateful that the link had been made if it meant easier communication with his family.

Man seemed to notice Tine’s anxiety and shared, “Don’t worry. You can trust me. I am extremely fond of your brother. I would do nothing to put either of you in harm’s way.”

Tine’s breath hitched at how open Man was about his feelings. It was a breath of fresh air amongst all the secrecy and concealed thoughts that Tine found himself immersed in. It seemed that he had found himself another ally within the confines of the castle.

“Thank you.” Tine murmured. “Just so you know, my brother is a difficult person to get to know but I have a sense you are up for the challenge. Good luck.”

Man’s eyes danced with anticipation, “More than up for it. Thank you for the encouragement.”

With that, Man ran off to meet up with his friends again. Later that evening, when Tine made it back to his own sleeping quarters, he lit a candle and opened the letter form his brother, buzzing with excitement.

Except the letter was not from his brother, it was in his father’s handwriting and the contents read:

Tine, my beloved son,

Your mother and I are extremely proud of everything that you have accomplished. We have heard rumours from Ohm’s father that you are progressing well with your work with the young Prince. When you first announced that you wanted to be a Squire, I recall wondering for a brief moment: who had I raised?

But I think you know the path you are on. You know where it will lead you and I know that wherever your journey will take you, you will always be driven by your inner strength and morality. Stay safe and stay true.

Most importantly, remember who you are.

By the time Tine was done reading the message for the third time, the parchment was stained with his tears. The ink began to blur but he quickly concealed the message for safekeeping so it did not weather any further. It was incredible to know that his Father knew he needed such a reminder without even being able to see Tine or know what he was faced with.

The internal battle that was tugging him in so many directions settled itself with his Father’s words. He had to be true to his mission, even if it meant sacrificing whatever semblance of a connection that he had built with the Prince.

There was no room for distracting emotions. He had to keep himself focused on accomplishing his goal and ready himself for the battle he was sure would land him in the dungeons. He did not have time to watch the Prince become King, Tine was not sure he would be around for that long after he exacted his plan.

++++++++

“You know, Sarawat, I don’t know if I approve of this new… energy that you are emitting.”

Sarawat looked up from the book he was studying to see Lady Earn regarding him with an air of disapproval. The Prince had not seen his friend since the night of the ball where they had been forced by their parents to dance with one another, even though both of them knew that was never going to happen. Their relationship was perfectly platonic and they liked it that way.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Sarawat countered with a grumble before he attempted to return to his reading.

“No, but I am going to give it anyway as I am your friend.” Earn answered which caused the Prince to close and set down his book.

He knew he should have taken the book back to the East Tower but the chairs in the Castle library were much comfier than the one he had in the tower. He sighed and decided to indulge his friend, “And what exactly concerns you about my energy concerns you, Lady Earn?”

Earn sat down on armchair across from Sarawat’s, adjusting the train of her dress so that she could sit more comfortably. “Before the Ball, you seemed like your spirits were high. You were dedicated to your training more than I ever have known you to be and dare I say it, some of the court members who are not as familiar with you even described you as ‘pleasant’. Now, here you are, hiding away in the library and scowling at anyone who dares to pass by, even a dear friend like me.”

“I am fine.” Sarawat protested flippantly. He hated being under the eye of accusation which is why he liked to keep mostly to himself although he did have to acknowledge his slight change in demeanour ever since the beginning of Knight training.

Earn reached across to rest a supportive hand atop of Sarawat’s. “You seem like you are hurting and while I don’t expect for you to tell me why, I hope that you are able to find it in you the bravery that it takes to be happy.”

The Prince shifted uncomfortably. The thing about Lady Earn was that she was wildly observant and while this sometimes benefitted him, he did not like to be seen in such a way. Sarawat purposefully chose to close himself off from the world so that he did not get hurt and now one of his closest friends was encouraging him to open up again.

“The thing that will make me happy is unattainable for many reasons.” Sarawat explained soberly.

“You are the future King.” Earn stated plainly. “You can shape the world in any way that you please. Don’t deny yourself happiness just because you are worried about what the court will think.”

“I wish I had the same courage you have.” The Prince remarked and earned himself a small smile from his friend. “You would make a much better ruler than I ever will.”

“I doubt that very much.” Lady Earn chuckled lightly. “You have the warmth in you to have the whole kingdom fall in love with you, the drive to make great changes for the better of ALL people and the strength to stand up to those who cross you. You just have to trust in yourself and learn to show people who you really are. I think you would be shocked by how people would respond to the Prince Wat that I know so well…”

Sarawat appreciated Earn’s words greatly but it still not change his particular predicament. “I can’t marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Looks like you have a month to figure out who you love, then.” Earn stood to her feet and with a cheeky wink, she declared, “And, Sarawat, for the hundredth time, I will not marry you. I know I am one of the most lovely maidens in the Kingdom but… I’m taken.”

Sarawat shook his head fondly as he watched Lady Earn strut her way out of the library, her words of encouragement playing in his mind.

++++++++++

“Father, can I go on the training excursion with the Knights and Squires?”

Phukong had found about the Knight’s expedition beyond the castle walls and wanted desperately to go along for the adventure. Plus, it would give him great opportunity to paint some new scenes and be able to spend more time with Lord Mil.

“We can not have both of our Princes venturing outside of the Kingdom.” The King muttered and gestured for Phukong to leave him.

Phukong stood his ground and bowed down onto one knee, “Please, Father. I know that you want me to be more like Sarawat and, maybe, if I go with them, I might be inspired to pursue Knighthood myself.”

The King made a sound that indicated he was considering the idea and when Phukong raised his head, he saw that his Father was nodding. “I will enlist one of the more capable Knights to over see your journey then.”

“What about Lord Mil?” Phukong suggested.

“My son would be more than happy to protect the younger Prince.” The Head Knight’s booming voice echoed through the throne room as he approached with heavy steps.

Phukong shivered as he turned. He always been afraid of Mil’s father and he struggled to see the family resemblance aside from the thick brows that they both sported. Where Mil was playful and open, the Head Knight had no patience for such frivolity. He was all business.

“All right, it is settled then.” The King declared. “You will join the caravan tomorrow morning with them. I expect that you will strongly consider the path of Knighthood since I am granting this request, son.”

Phukong nodded eagerly before dashing from the room but not before pausing outside of the throne room to catch his breath as he was so excited. As he was about to set off to pack his things after collecting himself, Phukong paused when he heard his father say something quite peculiar:

“If you are so worried about this Commoner, take him into custody. I will not have whispers of treason in my streets. I expect that you will deal with this promptly and discreetly. Last time you did not follow my orders and made a scene that was not so easy to brush under the rug.”

The Head Knight responded before Phukong took off down the hallways, “And so it will be done, Your Highness.”

Phukong did not like hearing things like, especially not from his Father. He understood that Royal duties meant that it was important to keep peace within the castle but this sounded like they were using their swords to solve the problem rather than talk through it. The thought made Phukong ill and he hoped that when his brother was King, violence would not always be the first course of action.

++++++++++++++++

The Knights and Squires were loading up the materials necessary for their journey. The Knights were working in on section and the Squires in another so Ohm and Tine were free to socialize as they pleased.

“You look quite exhausted, my friend.” Tine smirked at Ohm as he tied one of the Prince’s parcels to a horse.

Ohm’s cheeks burned slightly before admitting, “Fong and I went walking at around midnight and I got back to my quarters only minutes before I had to head out here.”

Tine was delighted to see that his matchmaking seemed to be going quite well. “Yes, Fong looked quite out of sorts when he delivered my breakfast this morning. I am happy for you both. It is good to have a positive distraction such as this.”

“You need to find yourself a companion.” Ohm encouraged. “You can’t just spend all your time plotting or training with the Prince. You deserve happiness too.”

At that very moment, the Knights began to head toward their houses, ready to depart. Sarawat still seemed quite distant but there was a more relaxed sense about him that morning, likely due to the notion of a rare escape from the castle to look forward to. Tine muttered, “I have good friends. I don’t need anything more than that.”

“Don’t resign yourself to loneliness just because of your pride, Tine.” Ohm warned before the Knights arrived.

Lord Mil side-eyed Tine and beckoned for Ohm to join him for final preparations. Tine had shared with him earlier that they would be responsible for accompanying Prince Phukong on their journey so there was an added pressure that was sure to be keeping Lord Mil focused on his task. Tine hoped that was what was keeping Mil so abrasive, but this made it easier for Tine to refocus on his own task.

Sarawat finished chatting with Sir Boss and Sir Man who both gave Tine a respectful nod as they watched the Prince make his way over to his Squire. As he held the highest rank of the Knights in Training, aside from Lord Mil, they were at the front of the caravan, something that made Tine quite nervous.

As he neared, Sarawat got a concerned look on his face as he studied Tine. “Are you up for this journey? You look somewhat pale, Tine.”

Tine could not stand this this extreme back and forth that the Prince put him through. Sarawat either ignored him completely, saying as few words as possible, or stepped back into this realm of care and comfort that made Tine’s head spin with confusion. Why couldn’t they find a neutral in-between where they could work alongside one another without Tine’s heart racing at a million miles an hour?

“Don’t worry about me.” Tine stated plainly. “There is only three more weeks until the final Knight trials. Once you pass them, you have the power to choose your own Squire and then we can part ways so… we don’t have to keep doing this.”

The hurt was apparent on the Prince’s face but he concealed it quickly. Tine continued, “Plus, you will be so busy with upcoming wedding plans as well, you won’t have time to worry about a Commoner like me.”

“I don’t know why you’re doing this.” The Prince hissed in a low whisper that made Tine’s cheeks heat up and reminded him of the evening in the East Tower. “It’s like you want me to hate you, Tine, and, well, we both know that’s never going to happen.”

Tine froze at the word ‘hate’. He didn’t want the Prince to hate him but there was no reality where they could be anything more than comrades and it was tearing them both apart. There was something intangible rippling under the surface and if it revealed itself, Tine was not sure how either of them would turn back from it…

How the hell were they going to survive a week in the wilderness when the biggest threat to them was each other?

#saratine #still 2gether #2gether #brightwin #sarawatine #sarawat x tine #milphukong #ohmfong #gmmtv #thai bl #the nuisance and the handsome prince #my writing #cass writes

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dutten-does-the-fanfic · 5 years ago

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I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 5

Title: I Want You Here With Me (Is It Too Much to Ask for Something Great) ch. 5 of 14 (ch. 1) Pairing: Isak Valtersen/Even Bech Næsheim Word count: 8450 Warnings: Language, mental illness, internalized homophobia

AO3

Summary: The one where it’s been two years since Isak last saw or spoke with Even, and no one knows that Isak ever knew Even at all.

Present

Despite having attended classes with these same thirtyish people for two semesters, Isak never actually went through the effort of learning their names. He’d thought that was going to be a reason for anxiety when their tutor read out who was supposed to be working together, but turns out he was wrong about that.

Because the guy who looks too much like he just rolled out of bed and doesn’t give a flying fuck has paired him up with Sana. He is paired up with Sana. He is going to be doing experiments, group projects and study sessions with Sana.

Who, Isak is sure, is a lovely – or at the very least a good – person. She just so happens to scare the shit out of all of their classmates.

Isak will deny it till the day he dies, but the stereotype about boys who are getting a science major not being able to talk to girls like they’re actual human beings applies to about half of the guys in this room – not something Isak can relate to, but he has his own reasons for that. The rest of the people in here either find her completely unapproachable, don’t want to be on the receiving end of a backstabbing, gut punching comment Sana has become known for after a guy wouldn’t take no for an answer at some party, or they throw out xenophobic and religious discriminatory comments like nobody’s business.

Isak spent about 97% of his first year not caring about anything that didn’t end up with him being drunk out of his mind, so he’s never actually spoken to her. The only reason he knows her is because Eva, Jonas’ sort-of-half-the-time-more-so-a-fuck-buddy girlfriend, is friends with her, and by proxy Isak has heard about her.

She doesn’t seem as scary when he’s heard an account of how fiercely she’ll protect her friends and of the lengths she’ll go to to cheer one of them up. Then again, she is currently sending him death glares that makes Isak dig his toes into the ground.

“You probably already know each other,” the tutor says, makes himself comfortable behind the screen of his laptop, “but go on and sit with your partners, introduce yourselves, make nice, all that jazz.”

Isak sighs as he gathers his coat, laptop and backpack. Dammit, he’d gotten the best seat in the room as well, the first seat of the row right by the door so he could be in and out within seconds. But Sana isn’t moving by the looks of it, so Isak’s just going to have to bite the bullet.

“Hey,” he greets, trying to plaster on a smile even as Sana glowers at him. “I’m –“

“I know who you are,” she interrupts.

Isak has to bite his cheek to keep from giving a retort back of his own. It won’t amount to anything good, and despite how shit this year’s kick off has been, he’s determined that this is his year, and Ev- someone’s sudden appearance and Sana’s bad mood will not be deterring him from completing his goal.

“Alright, then,” Isak slumps onto his seat.

It’s fine. He doesn’t need to make new friends. He has Jonas, Magnus, and Mahdi and that’s more than fine, it’s pretty much more friends than he’s ever had before.

He looks up to see Sana glaring at him.

“What?” he snaps.

“You might be willing to slack off and practically waste away your life, but I’m here to get an education,” she bristles at him. Her eyes look darker with the heavy ring of eyeliner around them. “This is important to me and I will not be the only one doing all the work only for you to get credit as well, you got that?”

Isak’s mouth snaps shut after it had fallen open from the indignation of being spoken to like that.

It’s, he’s reluctant to admit fair enough that she believes this of him. His first year hadn’t exactly been productive, even if he had ended up passing he had spent way too long getting drunk and partying and trying to forget about everything. There hadn’t been room to focus on anything but, and that meant homework went unfinished if he even started on it, and he’s pretty sure he never actually spoke with his study group.

“I know I don’t have the best track record,” Isak hisses, magnanimously ignoring Sana’s amused huff, “but this is serious for me too. Okay?”

“’Okay’,” Sana imitates. It sounds more like a ‘prove it’ than an agreement.

Isak doesn’t call her out on it. So be it on her if she doesn’t believe him, or doesn’t want to believe him. Isak’s not going to let that hinder him from turning this year around.

They’re painfully silent and it’s only amplified by everyone else in class talking around them. It sounds a bit too cheerful and carefree for being about possible topics, but Isak isn’t bothered enough to start listening in on mindless chatter.

Still, he should probably say something to Sana. He’s going to be working with her for six months, and he isn’t going to let it bother him, but mutual animosity rarely rakes in the 6’s.

“So,” Isak clears his throat. Sana looks up at him, not in a glare, but not particularly friendly either. “Evolution and genetics. Is there… something in particular you like?”

Sana shrugs. Helpful, thy name is Sana.

“Depends,” she finally settles on when Isak is about to lose it – or he isn’t, because he isn’t bothered.

“On?”

Maybe he’s a little bit bothered.

“Well, we could always focus on evolutionary genetics,” Sana suggests. She opens up a blank document on her computer, “but I have a feeling most of the other groups are going to do that.”

Isak snorts. Understatement of the year. He might not know any of their names, but he can already tell just from looking that half of these people are just going to settle on a topic that’s a variation of the name of the class subject instead of examining all the other topics they have to review.

“Right,” Isak agrees. “So what’s left? We have genetic mutations, heritage, we could do something on evolutionary processes?”

“Maybe.” Another shrug. “I quite like topics like behavioral genetics, you know, the topics in that area.”

Isak’s heart skips a beat and bears his fingernail down on his the skin of his thumb to avoid just blurting out ‘No. No, no, no, absolutely not’.

He manages to utter a, “Cool,” instead, but it sounds too stiff and Sana picks up on it and raises a disbelieving eyebrow at him with a frown.

Isak winces. Fuck, so much for playing it cool.

“We don’t have to do that.”

“No, no, I know,” the tone feels foreign in his mouth. He’s not usually the one to placate somebody, that’s Jonas’ territory. “It’s a good idea. Write it down.”

Anything to get her to look away from him again. Behavioral genetics hits just a tiny bit too close to home, if Isak’s honest. Sure, he’s already done a ton of research on it in his spare time, even if it has been a couple of years by now, so they would have an advantage that wouldn’t go amiss.

Still, he isn’t sure if he can go through with it.

“We should consider some more evolution-heavy topics as well,” Isak suggest. He skims the table of contents in their main book. “Maybe something like patterns of human evolution or genetic databases. Those are quite alright as well.”

Sana nods as she dutifully types, but she doesn’t look enthused, so Isak tries to suggest something else closer to what she wanted to do.

“Maybe we could find some more within genetic heritage,”

“I’m hearing a lot of talking, yet not a whole lot about science!” A voice overpowers everyone in the room.

Isak’s and Sana’s heads snap to attention. Yeah, alright, they’ve only started brainstorming, surely he isn’t expecting them to have an outline ready just yet –

“I know it’s exciting to talk about whatever celebrity it is I can hear you talking about, but try to focus now!”

Wait – celebrity?

Please, let it be an actor, a singer, hell, a politician everyone is obsessed about and not –

“Honestly, it’s not like they don’t know Even Bech Næsheim is from Oslo,” Sana mutters as she turns back to her computer.

Oh, damn. This is not happening. This is not happening.

“You a fan then?” Isak’s tongue nearly trips over the words from how it feels like it’s glued to the roof of his mouth, but the garble of noises that comes out is at least intelligible enough that Sana answers.

With an infuriating shrug. “You’re not?”

No, Isak wants to bitterly snap, but he doesn’t. Just shrugs back. “Don’t really care that much, to be honest. One of my roommates is crazy about him, though.”

That’s good, divert the attention away from himself. If only he could the topic away from Even at all.

He always feels like he’s being so goddamn obvious, like he’s practically screaming out ‘Even, Even, Even!’, always has felt like that no matter how hard he tried to make it stop. It’s stupid, because there’s no reason why anyone would even think about him and Even in any relation to each other, there’s no reason why he should be worried or suspicious, but every time his name mentioned, Isak’s mind goes off on a tangent of they know, they’ll find out, they’ll know.

“Oh, yeah – Magnus, right?”

Isak startles slightly, sliding down in his seat before he pushes against the edge of the table to stop it. God, that’s weird Sana knows that, but then again, Isak knew about Sana, so…

“Yeah,” he stutters. “Magnus.”

Sana doesn’t even look over at him, just writes down another topic and asks him what he thinks about that one.

OOOOO

It doesn’t get better the rest of the day.

Even during the lecture, people can’t seem to stop buzzing at the news. Every sentence either starts with ‘I was there’ or ‘my friend was there’ or ‘did you hear’ and Isak thinks all of it is not only overrated but entirely exaggerated because, sure, Even is famous, people love his movies and there aren’t a whole lot of people who haven’t at least heard of one of the titles, but still. He isn’t an actor, he’s a director, and Isak hasn’t really ever heard of any other director creating this sort of frantic commotion.

Just his luck, huh?

Yeah, alright, he gets it. Oslo isn’t LA, or New York, or, hell, even London. There aren’t a ton of celebrities just wandering around on the street, let alone showing up at a university party. It’s natural that some people would be talking about it. Not this amount, though.

Isak ends up slamming the door to the bathroom shut so harshly he can hear it echoing out in the hall, but he doesn’t stop moving until he’s locked up in a cubicle and has sat down on the closed toilet seat, ignoring the voice in his head talking about the amount of germs.

His skin feels too tight and he tries to alleviate the pressure by tugging harshly on chunks of his hair, grabbing onto one of the bigger curls to make it easier.

It doesn’t help. It just leaves him with a slight headache that was already too close to forming from stress and anxiety.

He turns on the sink too high. The water splatters onto the porcelain so forcefully it lands on his shirt. The cool water doesn’t even help, it just makes him too aware and he ends up dry heaving for a good ten minutes before he tries to take a sip of water and compose himself enough to go back to the world.

This wasn’t how he planned on his year starting out.

“What do you think he was doing there?” is the first thing he hears when he steps out of the bathroom.

Two girls are walking near the end of the hallway, but they’re talking loudly enough that he can still hear them.

“He used to go to UiO for film, didn’t he? Maybe he was just visiting some old friends.”

“Don’t think he was looking for a girlfriend, then?” the girl on the left playfully nudges her elbow into her friend’s side until she starts laughing and pushes her away.

“Pretty sure he already has a girlfriend.”

“Who, his PR or PA or management or whatever else she does? Sonja something?”

“Yeah, weren’t they –“

Isak runs to his right, away from the girl, and takes two steps up the staircase. If he doesn’t get away now, he’ll just have to go back into the bathroom until he really does throw up.

He can do this, he tries to convince himself even as he stumbles over the last step and nearly faceplants in front of a group of people. He ignores the snickering as he passes them and tries to focus on remembering the next auditorium he has to be in instead. He just has to focus on his coursework, on meticulously taking notes – more so than he already does, thank you very much – even when it’s boring or he’s already understood the subject.

He’s a good student, he knows that – has always been one apart from last year. Now he just needs to prove it to everyone else.

Isak sits through a lecture he doesn’t understand shit of. It doesn’t help that all the people around him are nodding and agreeing and acting like this is basic knowledge you should already know when applying for this program, and Isak is just sitting there, staring at the slides the professor runs through.

Everything being said goes in through one ear and out through the other, and Isak only manages to rile himself up even further at the thought of how many hours he’ll have to stay up tonight to read through the content until he understands it.

He tries to get out of the hall quickly, but he’s stuck behind a couple of stragglers blocking off his only exit, so he has to stand there awkwardly as they finish packing away their stuff. It’s just his luck that there’s a group two rows in front of him talking about Him, and then there are curious inquiries as to what is going on, what happened, who is it they’re talking about, and before Isak’s managed to get out of there, people are throwing around whatever bullshit they’ve heard.

Isak’s pushing his lips together in irritation to all the rumors as he bounds out of there, catching the tram right before it leaves. He’s winded and a bit sweaty, but the carriage is mostly empty, so he takes a seat the furthest away from the two teenage girls near the back.

He also shoves his ear buds in for good measure. The girls might be talking about some boy at their school right now, but before you know it, it’s all about the latest gossip and Isak can’t, he can’t handle hearing that stupid, goddamn name again today, he can’t.

Like that name hasn’t been floating around in his head for goddamn years, now it’s also being thrown at him from every single direction, and Isak feels like screaming. And crying. Isak feels like crying, can feel the lump in his throat grow so big he can’t breathe, can’t swallow his own spit, but much to his own surprise he doesn’t break down in tears. He doesn’t cry at all.

He feels so fucked up, so messed up and torn apart, like a tornado has gone through him, and it feels just as bad as when Even left in the first place, because back then he’d thought he’d gotten it right and he had finally started to think that again with his boys, that he could be someone’s friend and not fuck it all up, but he was wrong about Even and he’s apparently wrong about this as well, because he hasn’t gotten it right. Had he ever, or was this just something that had been waiting to happen?

He’s fucked up being a friend, has fucked things up with his boys, had nearly fucked up his entire first year of university, that’s two whole semesters worth of fucking up. The first one he’d spent most of simply black out drunk, and the next one he’d spent slightly more sober, but still unable to connect with anyone and not be a complete asshole. He hadn’t been able to focus on his classes at all, but had at least been able to spend his sleepless nights studying instead.

Jonas had tried so hard during their breakfast to pretend everything was normal, and Magnus and Mahdi had tried as well, but Mahdi had been more careful with his words than he has been since Isak first met him, and Magnus had constantly switched between not being able to stop staring at Isak like he’s never met him before and not being able to look at Isak at all.

It’s awkward and Isak feels awful about it even as he knows he shouldn’t. Or, partly, because part of it is his fault; he wouldn’t have worried them that badly if he hadn’t run off like that and stayed away for so long. He wouldn’t have been in this mess if he’d only –

Isak stops that thought by getting off the tram so quickly he nearly falls over when he trips over his feet going down the stairs.

The thing is, even though Isak hasn’t told them about – not even about Even, about himself – he considers those three guys his best friends. He doesn’t think he’s ever had friends as close as those three, not counting Eskild and Even, because Eskild had always been a bit of the older ‘guru’ despite only being four years older than him, and Even, well Even was just in an entirely different league of his own, so he shouldn’t, doesn’t, count either.

Isak hates how much he’s still like that fifteen, then sixteen, then seventeen, then eighteen, then nineteen year old who didn’t want to tell anyone that he doesn’t like girls. Sometimes it feels like he’s supposed to have had some type of character growth that the movies always make out to be so important, but he’s just been stuck for five years in the same mindset, with the same fears and worries, and he still doesn’t want to tell anyone.

There’s a small voice in the back of his head whispering to him how good it is that he hasn’t come out, because if he had, wouldn’t the boys have come to the conclusion that the reason Even knows him was because he ‘knows’ him? Isak tries to convince himself that he doesn’t hear that voice, even as it’s the only thing filling his head.

It’s not something he’s deliberately keeping away from them and only them, it’s everyone Isak doesn’t want to know that personal fact about him, and that’s fine. He’s allowed to not want to share everything, even if this is a bit bigger than taking the last bit of milk and forgetting to buy a new carton.

They had all moved in together because they wanted to move in together, the four of them, ‘Just how it should be,’ Magnus had crowed into their ears as he’d folded his arms over their shoulders and drawn them into a hug that smelled too much of beer and sweat to be as pleasant as it was in Isak’s memory.

But ‘just how it should be’ most certainly isn’t this. It isn’t Jonas biting his lips before saying something, it isn’t Magnus acting oddly around Isak, and it isn’t Mahdi being so goddamn reserved. It’s putting Isak on edge, more than he already is, which at this point is quite a lot, actually, and he shouldn’t be walking around feeling like this in his home.

He has tried so hard. He has been trying for so many years now, and for just a moment in time, he thought he had it. He had friends, he had a home, he had a home with his friends, and it had finally felt like life was turning around for him, and now he’s left with tension and more difficulties and Isak doesn’t know what to do.

There are pictures of them together scattered around the living room, originating back from when Eva had come around and scolded them and said this place needed to feel less like a pigsty and more like a home, that they were grown-ups and their house should ‘reflect that’.

The most grown-up things they’d been able to think of buying were pictures and sofa cushions, so now their grey sofa has yellow and orange cushions, and there are pictures hung up on the walls and scattered around on whatever flat surfaces were left. They’d gone to IKEA and gotten the frames and then printed the pictures off of their Instagrams on the university’s printer.

There are the stupid pictures of them fooling around, then there are the sweet group pictures where they’re all smiling. There’s one of Isak studying in their kitchen, the sun behind him, there’s one of Jonas and Mahdi shouting at the camera and holding up bottles of beer, and there’s one with Magnus smiling dopily at an out-of-frame Vilde. Isak’s picture is the only one with no smiles to be seen. Isak tries desperately not to reflect on that.

Just like how he doesn’t reflect on how in each of their individual rooms the others have put up pictures of their families, their current friends, the friends they don’t see as often because of life. Jonas has pictures of him and Eva and Eva alone, and Isak has nothing. Not a single picture.

He doesn’t think about the shoebox, whose contents feel forbidden, that he has hidden away in the top back of his closet, on the only shelf there. It’s stuffed underneath a pile of clothes and behind stacks of books from his previous semesters that he’ll probably never use ever again. It’s the perfect hiding place, because even if the boys decide to brave the contents of his closet, there’s no way they’d even think of going up there.

Isak’s doing a lot of that lately, of carefully strategizing, of hiding, of faking, of pretending – all of which he hates and has berated whoever was close enough to hear after a few too many drinks about, and here he is, doing the same shit as always.

It feels like he’s always doing it, never stopping. He never gets a reprieve and he hates that he desperately wants to blame Even for it, but he can’t. First of all, it’s not fair – this particular case excluded, because Even showing up in Oslo after having been away for so long has certainly been the catalyst in Isak’s rapidly declining wellbeing, but other than that, it’s all Isak’s doing.

That just makes him feel worse. The fact that it’s himself who is causing all of this pain makes Isak feel dizzy, his stomach swooping uncomfortably.

Stepping in through his front door makes his stomach curl in on itself instead. For a moment, Isak seriously contemplates just not walking in, just walking back out onto the street and never coming back. Would it be easier? Would it be better?

It wouldn’t. He can already tell himself that, at least. It wouldn’t be better, even if things are so incredibly shitty right now, leaving would do no good for Isak.

So he steps inside. His keys rattle in the lock, but not so loudly that the guys hear him before the door slams shut behind and he yells out the customary “Hello?” they always do to check who is home.

Fifteen minutes. He’d gotten a fifteen minute break between leaving the university and arriving home, and now he’s right back to pretending that everything is alright, that there isn’t a giant fucking pink tutu-wearing elephant dancing around in the room that Isak put there.

Isak’s pretending when he tries to smile at the boys. He’s pretending when he’s listening to them talking about their day, about whatever parties are coming up, about the girls they want to get with. He’s pretending when he’s in school and he’s pretending when he’s at home and he’s pretending with the people he’s supposed to call his closest friends, the people he considers his closest friends, even if they might not consider the same about him.

He’s pretending that the boys aren’t all pretending as well when they skirt around topics, when even Magnus refrains from talking about movies or his coursework, because media studies and Even might be too closely related to each other for Isak not to freak out again.

He only stops pretending when he closes his bedroom door behind him quietly, but only so much that he isn’t putting on a fake smile for everyone, because in truth he never really stops pretending, even around himself. He pretends, because maybe if he keeps on doing it for long enough, it’ll be so engrained in him it’ll be the truth, the only truth.

He slumps down against his door, sliding all the way down until his bum hits the ground with a too loud bump. He puts his head in his hands.

He still can’t breathe.

Past

Moving into the Kollektiv goes surprisingly seamlessly.

Isak can chalk it up to how everything leading up to it, how it’s been his dad leaving, the tirades of religious zeal, his mom being sick enough to being moved into a facility care, the constant worries and self-destructive behaviors Isak has picked up on over time, has been so much more difficult than anything Isak has ever experienced before, that the process of moving that everyone usually complains about just doesn’t really compare.

A lot of it is also because of Even – lovely, lovely Even who is spread out on his bed, laptop open on his stomach as he’s typing away. Isak doesn’t know whether it’s homework or ideas or an actual script, but they’re nearing midterms and Even is a senior, so Isak hopes it’s homework he’s working on.

Isak doubts it, but there’s a first for everything.

He can’t tell if it is schoolwork or not Even’s working on. They don’t attend the same high school and they don’t follow the same study line. Even goes to Bakka while Isak goes to Nissen, because he for sure won’t be going to any of those pretentious-ass schools – he’s not an obnoxious hipster and he isn’t rolling in wealth. Still, he’s looked over Even’s shoulder enough that at this point, he probably knows enough to be able to do Even’s program at Bakka, but beyond Even, Isak’s not interested in movies or media in the slightest, so Nissen will have to do.

It also helps that Elias and his crew of tormentors don’t go there, so it not only physically but also mentally felt like a new beginning, a fresh start.

Isak chances a look at Even’s screen, but Even’s flying through documents and tabs and browsers and videos faster than Isak manages to grasp. Honestly, Even can’t possibly be taking any of it in, either. Then he’s back to a document, typing away for a second before he repeats the process.

It’s… quite a bit more than what Even usually is, but Isak has only been living in the Kollektiv for nearly a week now, everything is still new and a bit exciting, so it’s understandable why Even is more wired than Isak has previously seen. It’s not like it’s a lot, just more in some way.

Plus, there’s also the extra added factor of nervousness at Eskild catching Even in his room. They already have a cover in case it happens – friends from school – but that excuse doesn’t really work if Eskild catches them during the night and asks why they’re cuddled up to each other half-naked.

Not exactly what ‘just friends’ do.

“What are you working on?” Isak asks as he turns off the lamp at his desk. His Norwegian essay can wait until tomorrow.

The joints in his back pop when he stretches back to look at Even, who is already watching him, smiling coyly as he lets his eyes linger over the length of his torso, his arms. Isak flushes, which only makes Even’s grin widen, but he lets it lie and looks back at his computer instead.

“Hmm?” Isak tries again when Even still hasn’t answered.

Isak’s twisted around on his desk chair – or, Noora’s desk chair. It still feels weird that he’s essentially using someone else’s furniture, someone else’s belongings, but Noora hadn’t been able to bring anything with her to Spain, and it’s not like Isak had a lot of his own that he wanted to bring instead – so he can look at Even, his arms resting over the back on the dark blue padding.

“Is it a secret?”

Even’s smile takes over his face, like that in itself is a much better story than whatever he’s working on. Isak can see the thoughts flying around in his head as his mind comes up with endless possibilities, but Isak isn’t really interested in all of those for a change.

It’s causality; Even smiles so Isak smiles, no question of correlation here. It makes something in Isak’s stomach twirl happily as he rests his cheek on his folded up arms.

Even hums noncommittally. “The most secret of secrets.”

The sun is hanging low on the sky, just barely shining in through Isak’s windows. It makes the white walls look golden with white patches in the shape of the window frame. Gold and red leaves frame the glass and all of it is positioned just so perfectly that the sun shines directly on Even while his face is blocked off. It makes his hair a lot more golden than it really is and Isak thinks he looks ethereal.

“So not your homework, then,” Isak teases and hides his smile in his arms when Even leans his head back up against the wall and groans dramatically.

“What are you, my mother?” Even groans.

No, Isak thinks to himself as he gets up off of his chair. I’m your boyfriend.

It’s not as difficult to say in his mind anymore, but actually saying the words out loud? Yeah, that’s not going to happen, no thank you.

It’s like Even hears him anyway, because his eyes go soft and he gets that look on his face Isak always endlessly teases him about, even if it means Even gets to tease him right back for the similar look Isak gets whenever he sees Even.

Isak vehemently denies he looks at Even with anything that could be described as ‘fondness’. He is a rock, a cold, hard rock – none of that mushy stuff for him.

Isak pads across the distance between the desk and the bed on socked feet until he can knee his way up the mattress, up over Even’s body. Even accommodates him by pushing the laptop off of his stomach and onto the bed. His breath leaves his body in a harsh ‘umph’ when Isak drops his torso onto Even’s legs so his face is pressed into Even’s stomach.

“You comfy?” Even wheezes, but Isak can feel him breathing so he knows it’s pretend.

Isak hums and nuzzles his face into Even’s stomach, following the flat planes and the dip of his bellybutton. Even’s hand reaches into his hair, twirls around a few strands to tug. It makes Isak’s toes curl and he looks up to smile shyly at Even.

Who looks at Isak like he’s pretty sure he’s actually a mirage. And then reaches over and starts typing something onto his computer.

“Sudden inspiration?” Isak teases. He presses a kiss on Even’s stomach through his t-shirt. The click-clacks of the keyboard pause for a second before Even continues.

It’s been less than five hours since Even had poured out a soliloquy about why he was showing up right now, because Isak seemed to be his muse and it was of utmost importance he was around him to work properly. He’d promised Isak he would dedicate odes to his entire being, to which Isak had reminded him he wrote manuscripts, he wasn’t a poet. Even had tutted at him and talked about artists and working in different art forms, and Isak had silenced him by kissing him until Even started talking about what he’d come over to do.

Honestly, it was more down to luck than knowledge that Even had showed up exactly when he did. Usually, they work off of precise time schedules that calculate when Eskild will be either a) busy – doing what, Isak does not care nor does he particularly want to know – or b) out of the building entirely and Linn is a) out or b) asleep so that Isak can get Even in and out without either of them noticing Isak has someone over to visit.

“Absolutely,” Even agrees, typing some more. “So if you could just stay there and be absolutely adorable, that’d be a real help, dear.”

Isak’s nose scrunches up in disdain. “’Adorable’,” he huffs, sinks his teeth into Even’s shirt just hard enough Even will be able to feel the scrape on his skin. “Piss off. I’m not adorable in the slightest.”

Even’s hum tries to be placating, but Isak isn’t fooled into believing him for even a second, so he presses another bite further up on Even’s ribs.

“Hey,” Even shudders, reaches out to grab onto Isak’s hair again. He tugs once a bit harshly, but he doesn’t direct Isak’s head away from his torso. “Menace.” And then he launches into a ramble about plot points and key elements and Isak doesn’t actually know which story he’s working on, so it all flies over his head.

Even’s also talking so quickly it’s difficult to keep up with, even if Isak had known the thoughts and theories behind it.

Isak grins as he rolls off of Even to land heavily on the free bit of mattress along Even’s side. It’s cool to the touch and it feels nice again his cheek, but it’s quite like the same temperature as the rest of the room in general. Isak should really get to asking Eskild about the heating situation before it’s dire or he’s already gotten ill for the first time this season.

Still, it feels nicer when Even curls his arm around Isak’s shoulder and pulls him in close until he’s more so lying on Even than on the bed.

It’s so easy to let his body relax completely, something Isak rarely lets himself do. It’s so easy to just close his eyes and breathe, because Even is warm underneath him and is happily rambling at him and it just feels so easy.

It’s definitely easy enough that he’s about to fall asleep.

Even must be able to feel it, some type of extra heaviness on his chest from Isak, can probably feel his breathing evening out to these deep in- and exhalations.

He doesn’t let him, though. Instead, Even sits up, forcing Isak to sit up along with him, and he doesn’t stop no matter how much Isak groans and tries to shuffle his nose into the crook of Even’s neck, right against his collarbone. Even just presses a kiss to his forehead and starts tugging at Isak’s sweatshirt, helping him get his arms in order so he can pull it off of him.

With enough persuasion, Even gets Isak to stumble onto his feet and go to the bathroom and brush his teeth for the night. The tiles in the shower are still wet, so either Eskild just left or Linn is home and probably asleep by now. Either way, they’re not going to be disturbed.

When he gets back to his room, Even is still lying on the bed, gazing out of the window like there’s something more important out there, something that should have his focus other than Isak, and Isak obviously can’t allow that, so he flops face-first sideways onto the bed. His stomach ends up over Even’s thighs, and he more so knocks out his own breath than amounts to have any impact on Even.

Even just laughs and scoots up the bed until he can pull his legs free and roll Isak over onto his back.

Isak’s limbs already feel sleep heavy, despite the brief pause to the bathroom that usually would’ve had his brain and body awake and ready to go again for at least two hours. He’s lethargic when Even pulls him up to sit so he can slide his t-shirt off of him in a similar manner as he’d done with the hoodie.

Next goes his jeans, once Isak has flopped back onto the bed, bouncing twice before he settles. Even presses a kiss to his bare stomach, right above the hem of Isak’s jeans. It feels nice, so Isak make sure to hum his appreciation as he scratches his nails along the nape of Even’s neck.

The bed is still warm underneath him from where they’d just been lying and where Even has been for the past couple of hours. That makes it so much easier to just sink into it, even as Even starts tutting at him to cooperate.

Isak doesn’t do much more than lie there, but Even still manages to work his jeans down his legs and discard them. The button clangs slightly against the floor, but Isak only just hears it over Even getting him to shuffle up to the pillows and under the covers.

“Go to sleep, baby,” Even cards his hand through Isak’s hair. It feels nice and Isak is quite fond of this bubble that’s seemingly formed around the two of them where they’re safely tucked away in his room.

“Lay down next to me, then,” Isak counters.

Even rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling and complies with Isak’s wishes without a single protest.

Isak falls asleep to the feeling of Even getting up again.

There are times where Isak wants to shout out that he likes Even, that Even likes him back, that Even is his boyfriend, and just as quickly as the impulse comes, it dissipates and Isak is left with the urge to huddle up in his room with Even behind closed doors.

He doesn’t know if that makes him a coward or if it makes him smart. There’s no one around for him to ask, no one to get a second opinion from, and that’s fine, really, it is. For every second that Isak gets the urge to just say it, he has hours and days where he’s so inexplicably relieved that no one knows yet he still gets to go home and be with Even.

It’s a system that works for them. It’s no one’s business but their own, anyway.

Isak falls in and out of consciousness for the couple of hours the night lasts. He wakes up whenever Even starts moving around, going from the bed to the floor to the desk, whenever Even gets so excited about whatever his mind has managed to conjure up that he can’t keep the laughter in or he just has to say that line out loud.

When he wakes up for longer than just a few seconds, the sun has started to peek in, and Isak can feel that it is way too early to be up, even if it wasn’t the weekend.

Isak stretches lazily as he turns over on his side so he can look over at Even who is sitting by the desk, laptop open and fingers flying over the keys. There’s nothing that tells him Even knows he’s awake.

“Even,” Isak whines, pushes his bottom lip out a bit in a pout to exaggerate but also entice. “Come and lie with me.”

Even twists around on the desk chair and Isak can see it forming on his lips, the rejection, the explanation that he just has to finish this next bit, Isak, and Isak’s already bracing himself for it.

But then, when Even really looks at him, it’s like something in his eyes softens and he kind of slumps a bit in his seat. Exhaustion is probably catching up to him, Isak thinks, and he stretches backwards to scoot his body further back, leaving a warm spot on the bed open for Even to curl up next to him in.

“Alright,” Even agrees – he’s rolling his eyes at Isak’s theatrics when Isak can’t help but grin widely at having gotten his way, but Isak has gotten his way, so he doesn’t feel the need to call him out on it. “I’ll lie with you until you fall asleep.”

Isak’s pout returns. He knows Even hasn’t slept the entire night, but there is something about him, some restless energy buzzing around in him that just won’t settle.

Even raises his arm so Isak can curl in close up against him, his own left arm curls around Even’s chest as his head comes to rest on Even’s shoulder. Isak’s still sleep warm and Even’s slightly cooler temperature feels nice against him, like a fresh change that makes his eyelids fall heavy as it becomes a struggle to keep his eyes open.

“Noooo,” Isak sighs, nuzzles his face against the hard line of Even’s shoulder. “Tell me about what you’re writing.”

Isak doesn’t have to be looking at Even to know how he looks right now; that fond look that simultaneously makes Isak both want to curl up in bed with him and look around nervously to see if anyone’s paying attention to them. Still, it makes him feel warm and safe and Isak might, might, be falling too hard too fast.

“I’m not telling you if you’re going to fall asleep halfway through,” Even pushes gently at Isak’s body, making him rock back and forth a couple times before he settles again.

“I won’t,” Isak protests, but he knows he will. He’s already struggling to stay awake, and having Even’s voice almost narrating what’s going on in his head will set him off even quicker.

“You will,” Even tells him matter of factly, but he still launches into the story he’s working on.

Isak stays awake halfway through. He gets out a murmur of, “You still owe me a beach story,” before he’s out like a light.

He wakes up again in the middle of the day. Even’s still being a busy bee, but now it’s from beside Isak on the bed and he’s scribbling something on a notepad so he wouldn’t have to move to get the laptop still perched open, screen dark from inactivity or maybe lack of battery, on the desk.

It’s so late that Isak can hear both Eskild and Linn bumbling around in the flat, and it makes his heart pick up a beat too fast. Even notices he’s awake.

“Yeah,” Even says in lieu of a good morning. He does bend down to press a kiss to the top of Isak’s head. “Didn’t want to wake you up before them. You’re too beautiful when you sleep.”

It’s risky doing this – any of it, really, but not getting up before Eskild and Linn are stumbling around the flat is almost like asking to be caught. Isak knows this, Even knows this, and Isak can feel his stomach starting to twist up in anxiety already. Any thoughts he’d had yesterday about his room being a bubble for just the two of them has popped at the prospect of other people’s proximity to them.

Isak doesn’t tell him it’s fine, because he isn’t sure if it is. It’s Sunday, probably around midday judging by the light, and Isak knows Even has plans with his parents this afternoon. Plus, it’s not like they’re able to just hide Even away in Isak’s room for an entire day, as nice as the thought is.

Isak does tilt his head back until Even appeasingly bends down to press a lazy kiss to his lips.

As uncomfortable that Isak is that Even has stayed, he’s also incredibly pleased that he got to wake up to this.

Even presses another kiss to his forehead and then turns back to whatever he was doodling on the pad of paper. When Isak turns to look at it he can see it’s some type of storyboard, but it’s too doodle-y for him to see what the story is actually about. It could be aliens, it could be penguins, Isak can’t tell.

He can the leftover strips of ripped papers see by the edge of the pad, revealing just how large an amount of papers that have hastily been torn out while Isak was sleeping.

Glancing over his room, it’s quite easy to see that Even hasn’t been sleeping next to him this entire time.

It looks a little bit like a very small hurricane has swept through while Isak was asleep. There are scrunched up paper balls littered all over the ground, discarded ideas of Even’s, but some of them look like they’ve deliberately been placed there, with Isak’s school books set up like walls of a mini-set, and every single blue article of clothing Isak owns strewn out on the middle of the floor in something that could vaguely resemble waves.

Isak doesn’t really know what to do with any of this.

“Did you get some sleep?” Isak asks even as he’s 100% certain of the answer being negative.

Even doesn’t even give him a proper answer. He grins like he’s just let Isak in on a funny secret and kisses him until he has to go.

The next ten minutes pass with Even humming theme music for spy movies under his breath, grinning whenever Isak hisses for him to stay quiet as he goes into the hallway to figure out where Eskild and Linn are in the guise of going to the bathroom.

They’re both in the kitchen which means Isak hasn’t got a chance of sneaking Even out of the front door or the backdoor. Shit.

“Alright,” Isak whispers when he ducks back into his room. His hear is pounding and he tries to convince himself it’s just from Even and nothing else in order to calm down. “I’ll have to go keep their attention on me. Then you can sneak out the front door.”

“Proper Romeo and Juliet, don’t you think?” Even kisses Isak again before Isak can protest that now may not be the time to do anything but focus on getting out without bringing attention onto themselves.

Still, it works and Isak feels his body slump down a bit in relief of being so near Even. They can do this, they have to.

Isak sneaks out into the hallway, but he has to pause before he enters the kitchen to suck in a deep breath. He can do this.

“Hey.”

Eskild jumps from where he’d had his back to Isak, one hand flying out to clutch the kitchen counter, the other to grab onto his chest over his heart like the dramatic ass he is.

“Jesus,” Eskild whines. “You’re going to end up giving me a heart attack! Make some noise when you enter a room, why don’t you?”

Isak snorts and doesn’t apologize as he goes over to get a cup of water. His heart is pounding as he simultaneously tries to think of something to say and to listen out for if he can hear Even get out safely.

“Don’t need to when you make enough noise for two,” Isak teases, chugs the water and opens the fridge to see if they have any juice as well. God, does this count as a tell that he’s hiding something? Drinking a lot?

Linn snorts, but she turns away from the sink to look over at Isak, finally facing away from the entrance to the kitchen. “Fucking hypocrite, you are. What, have you been redecorating your room? You look a bit too well-rested to have spent all of it awake.”

Isak tilts his head to the side in confusion. What on earth is she talking about?

“Oh,” Isak breathes out. Shit, had Even been making so much noise? Not enough that Isak woke up from it, but enough that Linn would? “Shit, sorry.”

He should probably tell her to come knock on his door the next time it happens, so he won’t keep her up again – he probably would’ve had it only been him in his room. The problem is it’s not just Isak in his room.

Linn huffs loudly enough the sound of the front door closing isn’t audible.

Isak’s heart doesn’t stop pounding until he has finished grabbing a bite to eat with his housemates and has checked the entire apartment for Even, just in case.

OOOOO

Two days later, Even shows up at Isak’s front door.

It’s too early. Isak knows Even’s class only finished ten minutes ago and the tram doesn’t leave for another five minutes after that. He looks at him questioningly, but Even doesn’t say anything, even as he probably knows that Isak’s realized he has played hooky.

Even’s swaddled in a winter coat that looks too warm for the just chilly air outside, and he looks tired.

He still smiles sweetly at Isak and kisses him hello, but afterwards he falls into bed and sleeps for eleven hours straight, barely tossing and turning like usual. Four times, Isak curls in close to him for no other reason than to check he’s still breathing.

When he wakes up the next morning, Isak jokes that he must’ve been tired, teasing him that he shouldn’t spend so many nights awake just so he can write. Even gets a distant look in his eyes at that and his smile seems more like he’s putting on a mask.

Isak can’t help but feel like he’s missed something, a bigger part of the story, the clue that foreshadows the climax, exactly what Even always berates him about needing to be the most advanced and difficult thing to write, to perfect.

Isak bites his tongue, looks at Even sleeping in his bed and reminds himself that his life isn’t a movie and that he shouldn’t think of it as plot points that perfectly fits into the Narrative Arc.

Next part

#Something Great #Evak #SKAM #SKAM Norway #Dutten-does-the-fanfic #Evak fanfiction #Skam fanfiction

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