#like she is so cold that she is wearing three layers INSIDE

[paarksunghoon]

grocery store receipts (sunghoon)

SUMMARY: your hot neighbor seems to have everything you don’t: charm, confidence, and a sense of direction in life. you’ve managed to keep to yourself in the time you’ve lived across from his apartment but the holiday season brings brings out unresolved feelings, and you find that the best present of all has always been standing right in front of you.

WORD COUNT: 31.5K.

PLAYLIST: I ended up making one for this fic

NOTES: consider this a love letter to sunghoon. this story had three plots before it became what it is right now. I’m not somebody who generally enjoys the holidays but wish I could be, so this is a bit of a diary entry, of sorts. (me to me: it’s really not that serious.)

and thanks to @moonstruck-muses for being the best person I know…I love who I am when I’m with you and I’m so grateful that you ended up tagging along to oomf’s house all those months ago. kinda hilarious that I knew you’d be a jake girl before you did, but I think that sums up the kind of friendship we have. 🩷

WARNINGS: fluff & angst, mentions of poor childhoods and bad parental relationships, a whole lot of Christmas talk, smut in the form of: dry humping, oral (f. receiving), missionary, sunghoon’s kinda obsessed with her chest, multiple orgasms, fingering. unprotected sex, creampie, and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

****

“Did you bring the sweater?”

Jake holds up a large white paper bag and pulls out the fabric, pushing the decorative detail in your direction. “Boom. You’ll win the ugly sweater competition, no doubt.”

“It’s not a contest.” You take the bag from him and Jake beams at you with that boyish smile he has when he gets excited about something. You feel a bit soft that he’s excited for you. “But thank you for letting me borrow it.” 

Heeseung grabs the sweater and holds it up in front of him. “This…is something else. Why do you have it in the first place?”

“It’s got a disco dance floor with breakdancing gingerbread men,” Jake deadpans. “It’s snowing inside the club. Why wouldn’t I buy it?”

Jay laughs. “He saw it at a thrift store last Christmas and bought it on a whim. I don’t think he’s worn it, so it’s good that you’re taking it off his hands.”

“I still want it back even if I have nowhere to wear it to.” 

You bump Jake’s hip. “You could always wear it to run errands.” 

He makes a face. “I’m not that crazy.” 

Heeseung folds the sweater and puts it back in the bag before handing it off to you for safekeeping when all four of you walk deeper into the bar. It’s cold outside. It’s the kind of weather that has you layered up in a scarf and a large peacoat that shields you from the chilly bite of the air. Summer has long passed and spring isn’t for another few months, and the joy you feel from the temperature dropping echoes within the warm bar you find yourself in. The juxtaposition of snowy air met with a warm furnace feels comforting in all of the right ways.

You offer to get a table and hum in appreciation with Jay and Jake volunteer to split the first round. They know your order on a weekday evening—whiskey sour—because you don’t like to go overboard when you have to wake up early the next morning. Heeseung slides into the booth beside you and nudges your shoulder.

“Are you still interested in the Marketing Lead position? I heard Kang Eunji’s transferring to the Tokyo office and that the company is looking to hire internally.”

“Now how would you know that, Lee Heeseung?” He shrugs with an uptick to the corner of his mouth.

“I have my ways.”

“Did you, by any chance, flirt with our floor’s secretary to get this information?” 

Heeseung’s cheeks reddens. “It’s not my fault that she’s into me, okay?! I’ve turned her down plenty of times because I don’t do workplace relationships, but I’ll make an exception if that means helping my best friend get promoted.”

“Poor girl. She probably thinks you’re stringing her along.” Heeseung rolls his eyes.

“I’m doing nothing of that sort. I just smiled at her, complimented her dress, and asked if the rumors about Eunji leaving were true.” 

“You walk through life getting everything you want handed to you, huh?” Heeseung smiles innocently but the two of you end up sharing a laugh. 

“I’m serious, though. I don’t know how much I can help since everybody in the office knows we’re close. They’ll definitely think I bias you over other candidates.”

“Don’t you?” 

“Well yeah, but let’s consider there are a few other people whose words matter more than mine.” 

“That is awfully nice of you. I’m a little concerned that you might have something up your sleeve but I appreciate you.” 

He laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a good Christmas.” The boyish smile he wears makes you feel tender but you push against him anyway.

“You’re a little scary when you’re nice to me.” 

“What? I can’t be nice to the girl who spilled hot coffee down my shirt the first time we met?”

You mumble. “I’m clumsy.”

“Are we talking about you being an absolute klutz?” Jay puts your drink in front of you. “If so, do you remember the time we were playing tennis in my backyard and you tripped over grass?”

“Okay, okay! I get it. I have terrible coordination and fine motor skills.” You hide your smile behind the glass and thank them for the drink before Jake speaks up.

“You’ll have to send me a picture of you in the sweater. I want to put it up in my fridge, or something. What’s it for anyway?”

“The company Heeseung and I work at hosts spirit month every holiday season,” you explain. “Every Friday is casual dress day, but starting in the first week of November, there’s a holiday theme and I think it’s fun to dress up.”

“I’m surprised at how many people do it,” Heeseung chimes in.

“I’m sure we can find one day that works for you.”

“I’ll only consider dressing up if you can make it look tasteful.”

“Please just dress up once,” you beg. “You can wait until it gets close to Christmas. Besides, you’d look good in some of the categories.”

“What are the themes?” Jay asks.

“Next week is Winter Wonderland and the week after that is Red Day. I’m pretty sure there’s a Pajama Day somewhere.”

“Well, I might show up to the office in sweats.”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I wish my job did something fun.” Jake pouts behind his beer. “I’m in a lab all day so even if I wore something festive, it’s covered by a white coat.”

Jay laughs. “You act like being able to wear a white coat is a bad thing.”

“It is when you can’t see break dancing gingerbread men.”  

“Have you guys started Christmas shopping?” Heeseung stares at the drink in his hand as if a lightbulb hangs over his head. “All this holiday talk made me realize I haven’t started thinking about what to get my friends and family. I have absolutely no idea what to get you guys.”

“You could get me a free week at your client’s fancy hotel.” Heeseung looks at Jay and deadpans, whereas the younger boy laughs.

“I’d get myself a weekend vacation before I give it to you.” He sighs. “It would be fun if all four of us could go on a vacation away from Seoul, though. No worries, no work, and no responsibilities.”

“The lab’s slowing down and I’ve made a list of people I need to give gifts to.” Jake pulls his phone out and shows everybody the note on his phone, aptly titled ‘CHRISTMAS PRESENTS FOR THE HOMIES.’ You try to see what he’s put beside your name but he pulls his phone away faster than you can read.

Jay looks at you. “I’ll bet you've been prepared since summer.”

“I’m only put together when it comes to the holidays, Jay.”

“Does that mean you have most of your gifts wrapped?” 

You nod proudly. “You know me too well.”

“I want to know what you got me.” 

“Nope, no guessing.”

“I don’t think you can beat last year’s gift for him,” Jake snickers. “Poor Jay almost had a heart attack when you were able to get his guitar signed by Hisashi Tonomura since you worked with him for a campaign.” 

“That was tricky because I didn’t know how to ask for your guitar without tipping you off.”

“I knew you wanting to learn how to play was a bullshit excuse,” Jay says with a laugh. “But looking back at it now, that really was a great gift.” 

Heeseung raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Are you getting anything for your cute next door neighbor?” You aren’t tipsy by any means, but the mere mention of the hot guy who lives across the hall from your apartment makes your cheeks feel warm. The guys laugh when you look away from them and you hear their laughter ringing in your ears as you try to maintain your shyness.

“No, Heeseung. It would be weird of me to get a gift for someone I barely know.”

“Maybe you should!” Jake nudges your knee with the tip of his shoe. “You guys could fall in love for all anybody knows.” 

You smile weakly. “I’m too scared to talk to him. He’s so…hot.” 

Jay snorts. “So you tell us.” 

Your neighbor, who you and the guys have dubbed ‘The Stranger,’ moved into your building nearly a year ago. In that time, you haven’t mustered up the courage to say anything to him. You keep it at awkward eye contact when you see him leaving or arriving at the same time and begin daydreaming the minute you lock your door behind you. His dark hair, striking brown eyes, and pouty lips is enough to make him the subject of your waking thoughts. 

Your friends seem to overestimate your confidence and encourage you to talk to The Stranger, but your resolve crumbles every time you make eye contact with him. Surely a man like that belongs only in fairy tale books or those cliché romance novels middle-aged women seem to like so much. He’s always impeccably dressed with fitted clothing and a clean face that never seems to have blemishes. He must be well off because you recognize name brands adorning his chiseled body.

His demeanor intimidates you too. The Stranger always stands with his chin parallel to the floor and walks with his shoulder held back as if invisible books were stacked on top of his head. The way he carries himself makes you think he’s confident and it intimidates you because you’re anything but. The Stranger is always polite, acknowledging you if he happens to see you around your shared hallway, but he remains aloof with barely a glance before disappearing. He is every bit tall, dark, and handsome, and you’re a little too unsure of yourself to ever make the first move. 

Heeseung, your closest friend since you moved to Seoul, always tells you there’s nothing to fear and that rejection isn’t the end of the world. You try to take his advice but Heeseung is the type of person who never has never had to worry about rejection because people are lining up the doors for him. He’s got a charming personality that almost certainly helped secure his promotion at the company you two work. He’s also got enough charisma and good looks to hook women in. Heeseung doesn’t have to lift a finger to get anybody to pay attention to him. Besides, you’d rather live in this yearning stage of your life than face the awkwardness of seeing him after he rejects you. 

(“If he rejects you,” you hear Heeseung’s voice say in the back of your mind.)

It’s the same for Jay and Jake, too. They’re both incredibly handsome and know their way around people, even if they’re a bit shy at times. Jake especially, who has a clear accent in the way he speaks, can easily make friends with anybody at the mere mention of the way he speaks. Jay attracts people left and right because of his chiseled jawline and the fact that he’s musically gifted, and people stay because he’s incredibly compassionate and attentive.

You love your friends because they’re wonderful people who always seem to know how you’re feeling and what you’re thinking before you can tell them. But you’re a little bit envious that the world seems to work out for them without doing too much. You find that your experiences have the opposite outcome and you’ve had your fair share of rejection stories across every aspect of your life. All of your insecurities have been with you from childhood until now, and trying to be the bigger person is becoming harder every single day. It’s probably what keeps you from doing anything but approach the attractive man that lives across from you. The Stranger is simply somebody too beautiful and you aren’t sure if you’re worthy enough to be somebody he can look at. 

“He’s hot and single.” Heeseung puts his hand on his chin. “Doesn’t seem like a problem to me.” 

“We don’t know that he’s single.”

“I wish I knew what he looked like.” Jake pouts at his beer. “Who doesn’t have an Instagram or social media?” 

“You’re one to talk. You barely post on Instagram and every picture you have is outdated. I’m pretty sure the only person who cares enough is Jay.” 

The aforementioned speaks next. “Has he ever brought girls home before?” 

You shrug. “I don’t think so?” 

“There you have it. He’s single, hot, and you should make a move on him! You never know what’ll happen.” 

“Can we drop it?” you ask, starting to feel a bit restless where you sit. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” Jake sits back and tries to hide his sulk, although you know he only wants the best for you so you try not to feel annoyed. 

“Are any of you going home for the holidays?” Jay asks to break the silence. 

“Probably not,” Heeseung replies. “My family wanted to go somewhere tropical and spending time in the heat doesn’t sound too good to me. I’ll probably see them when they get back and make a weekend out of it.” 

“Same here.” Jake finishes off the rest of his beer. “My brother’s coming from Brisbane and my parents are spending it back home, but we agreed to meet up next year since they visited Seoul a few months back. You?”

“Staying here because my extended family will be here for a week or so. I’ve got some family obligations but they told me to take it easy now that I’m living on my own.” 

“Sounds like you guys will be bothering each other even more now, huh?”

Jay laughs. “Yeah, I guess so. What about you? Are you going back home this year?” 

You look down at your hands. “I don’t know yet. My mom keeps asking if she should expect me to come home but I’ve put off making that decision for a long time. It’s just hard, you know? After dealing with my dad and everything that went down a few years ago…I don’t know if I’m ready to go back.” 

Her voice lingers in the back of your head the more you think about it. You don’t talk to her often and leave phone calls with her around two to three times a week. She sends you Instagram reels she thinks are funny and you do your best to laugh at them too. But the reality is that talking to her about the holidays reminds you of everything you’re running away from. 

It’s been four years since you moved for a fresh start after university. Seoul used to be so big and enticing compared to the small fishing town you hail from. The streets smell like delicious savory and sweet goods instead of the raw stench of live bait and wet creatures. The lights that illuminate the night sky due to the gargantuan billboards make you feel like this city never truly sleeps because the next adventure is at arm’s length. It’s what you’ve craved for so long and now that you have it, going back to your neighborhood is starting to make you feel guilty for achieving one of your dreams and leaving everything behind. 

Your friends seem to know what’s running through your head. You’ve been this way every winter since they met you. Heeseung gently nudges your arm with his elbow to pull you out of your thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? We’ll be here for you.”

“I know. I just feel guilty for not going back home since I moved. It’s a two hour train ride but I can’t bring myself to buy the ticket. It’s so hard to be in a place that brings you bad memories.”

“We’ll keep you company this Christmas,” Jake promises. “We aren’t going anywhere so there’s no reason for you to be alone.” 

“Thanks, guys. I’m sorry that I brought the mood down.” 

“What else is drinking at bars for if not to lament about the sad shit?” Jake smiles when that pulls a laugh out of you. 

“Yeah, you’re right. But if I’m hungover at work tomorrow, it’s your fault.”

***

Despite a difficult conversation that sparked haunting nostalgic memories to resurface at once, you managed to keep your drinking to a minimum and stopped yourself after a single cocktail. Heeseung dropped you off and promised to be back to carpool to work tomorrow, and the last thing you thought about before sleeping was The Stranger. 

Your under eye bags aren’t as groggy as they are when you’d drink the night away, but they still feel heavy underneath you. Moisturizer and concealer can only do so much to get rid of the dark circles on your face so you make do and send a silent prayer that you’ll look decent for the entire day. Jake’s ugly sweater hangs perfectly against your dresser and you do your best to style around the atrocious design, but it makes you smile to see such a ridiculous piece of clothing on your body. It reminds you that the holidays are beginning and you try to think about all of the festivities in the area instead of the looming doom of going back to your hometown during this time of year. You take a quick picture of yourself and send it in the group chat, thanking Jake for the impeccably horrible sweater. Once your work bag is packed, Heeseung tells you he’s parked outside of your apartment building. 

You step outside and lock your door only to be greeted by The Stranger.

He blinks when he takes note of the dancing gingerbread men and cocks his head trying to make sense of him. The Stranger, on the other hand, is wearing a fitted longsleeve shirt that nearly molds around the muscles of his arm and baggy pants that somehow make him seem taller than you recall. His hands are adorned with silver jewelry and his shoes look like they might be as expensive as your monthly rent. You’re starting to feel the juxtaposition of your outfit compared to his when he looks at you and the design of the fabric feels heavy on your shoulders.

“That is an ugly sweater.” The Stranger widens his eyes and the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink when his words finally register. “I just mean that your sweater is…interesting.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. This sweater is really ugly.” 

“Any particular reason as to why you’re wearing it, then?” 

“Today’s a holiday spirit day at work,” you explain to him. “Every Friday has a different theme and today just so happens to be Ugly Sweater Day.”

“I hope you get a consolation prize because, wow…that truly is an atrocious piece of clothing.”

The two of you start to make your way towards the elevator, and stand in awkward silence as you wait for it to reach your floor. You see him stealing glances at the design and feel your neck warming up, and start to wish you could take it off. The thought of this outfit being The Stranger's first impression of you makes you feel humiliated, but Heeseung is waiting for you outside and Jake didn’t give it to you just for it to hang in your closet. 

The chime alerts you to the doors opening and The Stranger allows you to get in first. You're about to press the button for the lobby when he beats you to it. You settle into an uncomfortable silence, resisting the urge to itch your palms and shift awkwardly to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Everything about him screams opulence, from the way he stands to the way his cologne smells. You aren’t sure that you can name the notes in the scent, but it smells extremely expensive. Even the way he stands makes you feel like you should fix your posture. 

“I’m Sunghoon,” says The Stranger. His deep voice echoes in the elevator and your throat feels dry as you tell him your name. “I’ll remember that for when we inevitably run into each other.” 

The lobby is fairly empty but you can see the hustle and bustle of city life when you look past the glass walls. Heeseung is sitting in his car, scrolling on his phone when Sunghoon opens the door for you and lets you walk out in front of him. You feel him looking at you and turn around one last time. He takes one more look at the sweater and nods. 

“Well, uh, have a good spirit day at work.”

“T-Thanks!” 

You don’t wait for his reaction and turn around to walk towards Heeseung’s car that you noticed has been recently washed. He unlocks the doors when he hears you tugging on the handles and looks at the sweater before bursting out into laughter.

“Jesus, that sweater is so fucking ugly.” 

“Thanks.” 

When you don’t put your seatbelt on, Heeseung turns to see that you’re looking outside of the window. He darts his eyes to see if he can catch a glimpse of your line of sight but comes up empty. You look fresh for this hour of the morning and Heeseung wonders if the smile on your face is because of the upcoming spirit day. 

“What are you looking at?”

You whip your head to your friend, who looks at you quizzically. “You will not believe who I talked to this morning.” 

“Who? Santa?” Heeseung looks at the photo you sent in the group chat earlier. “Nice selfie, by the way. You look like an elf.”

You swat his shoulder. “No, dummy.”

“Then who did you meet?” 

“My neighbor.” Heeseung’s jaw drops and you swat his shoulder again. He winces, but you can’t find it in yourself to care too much and buckle yourself to his passenger seat. “We gotta get to work. Drive and I’ll tell you.”

He grips the wheel and starts the fifteen minute journey. “Did you finally introduce yourself to him?” 

“Not quite. We walked out of our apartments at the same time. He said, and I quote, ‘That is an ugly sweater.’”

“I don’t know whether to be happy or sorry for you.”

“I feel stupid because of all the days I had to run into him, it had to be today.” Heeseung’s seat warmers make it all that more enticing to sulk. You tug at the hem and inspect the design, feeling somewhat regretful that you chose to participate in today’s spirit day. “I told him a little bit about why I’m wearing it and he seemed to think it was funny.” 

“Does he smell good?” You flick Heeseung’s arm, who laughs in the driver’s seat.

“Shut up. But yeah, he really does.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Sunghoon.” Your mouth curves into a smile. 

“Sunghoon. Nice name. Sounds fancy.” 

“I guess so. He does wear a lot of name brands and high luxury fashion.”

“His name definitely suits him, then.” 

To nobody’s surprise, you have the best ugly sweater throughout the office. More people participated than you and Heeseung had originally guessed and the holiday-themed snacks your division manager provided was enough to boost office morale. The weather outside is getting darker earlier and you even feel a bit restless after sitting in your office for a while. 

Heeseung watches you from behind your frosted doors as he talks to the floor secretary to order files and copies of his projects, and the sight of you in that horrendous sweater with a smile on your face makes him smile too. You’ve looked like that the entire day, from picking you up and throughout lunch, and Heeseung wonders if could ever convince you to make a move on your neighbor since you talk about him so much. He doesn’t know how much longer he can listen to your fantasies while being extremely shy to strike a conversation with him. 

He turns to the group chat he has with Jay and Jake. You’re notably absent from this text thread (as told by the name of the group chat) and they use it to discuss anything deemed ‘guy stuff’ (most infamously when you text “TAKE THIS ELSEWHERE” when they start getting too boyish for your taste).

The Gentlemen’s Club 

heeseung: GUYS. She met her neighbor this morning

heeseung: His name is Sunghoon and he saw her with Jake’s ugly sweater

heeseung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

jake: IS HE CUTE

heeseung: I think so. She was blushing the entire car ride here and could barely say anything until we parked 

jake: fuck yea. i trust her taste in men because she thinks byeon wooseok and kim jaeyoung are hot. they’re gonna fall in love guys 

jay: If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Jake had one too many cups of coffee  

jake: well yes BUT u know me and you know i think they’ll have a meet cute

heeseung: Technically they already had one. Although I don’t if I’d call it a meet cute since he called your sweater ugly to her face

jake: whatever. you know what I mean. we should find out what he looks like 

jay: And how are we gonna do that?   

jake: idk maybe throw a little get together this weekend

heeseung: That’s a little soon, no? 

jake: next weekend then. 

jake: I can host at my place. tell her to bring whoever she wants. I need an excuse for a housewarming anyway 

jay: You moved in three months ago tho??

jake: it’s time to have one now!!!! I’ll text the group chat with all of us 

Heeseung switches to the group chat with you in it. 

The Family Unit:

jake: housewarming. my place. next saturday. 6pm. bring food 

jay: If you’re throwing the party, why do we need to bring the food

jake: because I am hosting god knows how many people and I cannot afford all of that 

heeseung: We can figure this out later 

you: Jaeyun, didn’t you move in three months ago ???

jay: THAT’S WHAT I SAID.

jake: we can have an official party now!!!!. bring whoever you want as long as they’re cool

you: Say less!!! I’m there. I’ll bring dessert

jake: 🤤

jay: Can I leave this group chat?

It’s painfully boring for the rest of the day as you all tie up loose ends before 6 PM hits, but you power through it and let your assistant go home for the day. With the weekend looming near after sending a few more emails, you swear you can feel the tension exiting your body. Heeseung knocks on your door and steps inside as you send one last message to a client. 

“You should invite Sunghoon.” 

“To what?” you ask him, temporarily clouded by end-of-week work stress.

“To Jake’s housewarming, dude. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to him again.” You sit back in your chair and look at him as he sits in front of you. 

“I don’t think I have the guts to do that.”

“It’s easy. Knock on his door and tell him there’s gonna be free food and drinks next weekend.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a magnet. People are drawn to you because you have no problem socializing with people you don’t know.”

“You and I are friends, aren’t we? I must be doing something right.”

“Meeting at work four years ago hardly counts as socializing. It was forced proximity.” Heeseung puts his hand over his heart and pretends to cry.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I like being friends with you and you aren’t as awkward as you think you are. I think Sunghoon, or anyone for that matter, would feel that way too. You just need to put yourself out there.”

You slump back in your desk chair. “I know…It’s hard to push myself to get to know someone, though. It’s like there’s an invisible line I can’t seem to cross and it gets worse when I talk to people I find attractive. He’s like, really hot.”

“You talk to me every day and do just fine.” Expertly, he dodges when you throw a pen at him and laughs when you grunt in dissatisfaction. “What are you so scared of?”

“I don’t know. Looking like an idiot, for one. He’s so beautiful and I don’t feel worthy of him.”

“He’s a man, first of all,” Heeseung deadpans, “so he’s already beneath you.”

“Wow, so you do listen to my I-hate-men rants.”

“Yeah, because I care about you and men suck.”

“You and the guys especially when you won’t leave my apartment.” 

“But your apartment is so cozy.” You threaten to throw another pen and smile when he flinches. 

“I’m afraid of making things awkward if he doesn’t want to get to know me like that. We’ve acknowledged that we’re neighbors and all, but what if I ask him to come to Jake’s party, he says no, and thinks I’m a weirdo and a creep for asking him that after one conversation?”

“Then he’s a weirdo for being creeped out. Anyone who gets offended by being invited somewhere is weird. You’re a nice person trying to do a nice thing. There’s nothing wrong with making friends.”

Heeseung is right, like he typically always is, and you ponder on his words. Since the first time you saw Sunghoon, you’ve treated him as some fictitious crush that exists only within your head and muse over the small interactions and indulge yourself when thinking about him. Romance seems far fewer in between and you choose to stick to television shows and books that make your heart flutter instead of going on multiple dates just to find out the two of you aren’t compatible. 

It feels like an endless cycle of hopelessness at times. You’ll watch your friends fall in love and try to empathize with that kind of unfiltered joy that comes with knowing somebody loves you just as much as you love them, but you fall flat when the reality weighs in. You don’t think you’ve ever fallen in love or have felt anything remotely close to falling for someone so deeply that you lose yourself in it. It’s probably a good thing, but the yearning doesn’t seem to end even though you know it’s for the best. 

Pinning all of the qualities you’d want in a boyfriend on the stranger next door seemed like a safe bet because you never thought about the possibility of getting to know him. Sunghoon is someone who is as quiet as a mouse, never making too much noise when he’s in his apartment. He’s a model tenant who always pays his bills on time and never causes a disturbance to the building. Facing the reality that is perceiving him as anything but what your imagination conjured up makes you a little uneasy. You admire from afar but the idea of a hot guy looking in your direction makes you feel somewhat unworthy of their attention. 

“I’ll think about it,” is all you offer. Heeseung seems to be pleased at your answer and doesn’t pry any further. “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. I decided everything else could wait until Monday and sent my assistant home.” 

“Look at us being good managers.”

“We’re everything we said we would ve and then some.” Heeseung grabs your pea coat from the closet and helps you put it on when you round the corner of your desk one sleeve at a time. “Do you remember Song Bitna?”

“How could I ever forget,” you scoff, retrieving your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “She used to make us run laps and get upset that our work wasn’t completed.”

“She made me go on more personal errands than anything work related. It’s a wonder how I managed to get promoted.”

You push the door to your office open and say goodnight to your remaining coworkers. “There’s a reason why we’re here and she isn’t. It’s good to know we aren’t shitty bosses.”

“I hope so. Sometimes I get in my own head and wonder if I’m managing everything correctly. I want my assistant to learn from me, you know?” Heeseung allows you to step into the elevator before walking in after you. 

“Yeah, but you’re good at everything you do. You should have more faith in yourself.” He nudges your shoulder with his own.

“You should take your own advice.” You bite your lip and look down at the floor. “You’ve got a week. Think about it, okay?”

“I will.” 

“I was serious about the promotion as well. I’ll put in a good word but you should consider talking to the division lead.”

Classic Heeseung. He looks out for you in more ways than one. 

***

The weekend flies by too quickly for your liking and you find yourself at your desk on a Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea sitting between your hands to warm up your palms. The building’s central heater stopped working a few hours into the workday, leaving you and many other office workers disgruntled and cold. You shut all of your windows and paced around your office to keep your blood circulating throughout your body. The morning was fairly productive until the heating went out and you've spent the last hour replying to emails with cold fingers, pushing any and all thoughts of Sunghoon out of your mind. 

You haven’t seen him since last Friday. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to have a routine that he sticks to–one that you can identify, anyway–because you didn’t run into him for the past three days. You waited anxiously by the elevator to see if he would come barreling down the hallway and ask you to hold the door for him, but each day was met with empty silence before stepping into Heeseung’s car. 

True to your word, you spent Saturday trying to convince yourself to ask if he’d be interested in coming with you to Jake’s housewarming party. You’d wane from decision to decision, telling yourself there’s nothing inherently wrong with asking somebody if they want to hang out, but the irrational side of your brain convinced you that it would be weird to open up that kind of dialogue with a stranger. You don’t know anything about him and he doesn’t know the first thing about you. But that’s what getting to know someone consists of, doesn’t it? 

Before you knew it, Sunday came around and it was starting to get dark outside your window. The urge to curl up into your blankets and spend the rest of the evening watching Netflix was too tempting. The more you watched your TV, the more you stared at your front door. It would take a minute, maybe two at the most, to ask Sunghoon if he’d like to come with you to Jake’s. The worst thing he could do is decline your invitation. He seemed nice enough on Friday when he saw you wearing the ugly sweater and you suppose he’d be nice about letting you down gently. But even so, rejection stings. 

Your feet carried you outside of your apartment door to knock on his. You waited with your heartbeat loud in your ears but heard nothing from the other end of the door. When you peeked down at the small gap below you, there weren’t any shadows or anything indicating that Sunghoon was home. Still, you knocked once more for good measure and waited thirty seconds to see if he would open the door. Even though the most logical explanation is that your neighbor wasn’t home, heat crept up your neck and splashed onto your cheeks as you quickly made your way back inside of your apartment. With the twist of the lock behind you, your couch and TV brought some much needed comfort and distraction from feeling embarrassed. 

Heeseung hadn’t asked you about Sunghoon on Monday or Tuesday, but seemed to remember when Jake sent a reminder earlier this morning. He swung by your office as the temperature dipped and you updated him on what transpired over the weekend with a defeated sigh. Ever the optimist, Heeseung told you to try again tonight since you might have a better chance at catching Sunghoon during a weeknight. 

The day goes by slower than you’d like and when Heeseung drops you off at your apartment, you make a dash for your sanctuary and rid yourself of the day’s grime by spending a long time underneath the hot shower. Work is simultaneously ramping up and slowing down as everyone is trying to complete projects before winter recess and you feel all of the tension leave your body once the hot water soothes over your shoulder blades. It’s still relatively early in the evening when your hair is half dry and you’ve just finished eating dinner. The entire time you wash your dirty dishes, your mind can’t help but wander towards Sunghoon and what Heeseung said earlier about trying to ask him again. Surely he’s in his apartment at this hour on a Wednesday evening. 

You decide to bite the bullet. After grabbing the cardigan that rests on the back of your couch, you put it on and decide against changing into your shoes since you’ll be stepping out for just a few minutes. Sunghoon’s door stares back at you as you close your own behind you and this time, you can hear the soft sounds of R&B behind it. 

This makes your heart rate pick up speed because the real possibility that you’ll be face to face with Sunghoon becomes too real for you to handle. You could barely utter complete sentences to him last week. What makes you think you could do it now? The same scenarios of rejection and humiliation ruminate in your mind the longer you stand outside. You contemplate going back inside but the thought of telling Heeseung you chickened out and seeing a potentially disappointed expression on his face makes you knock on Sunghoon’s door. 

Unlike the last time, you hear the sound of slippers shuffling against a hardwood floor. The lights are on from what you can tell underneath the gap of the door and you start to panic when you see a shadowy figure blocking that light. You assume Sunghoon must be looking through the peephole and resist the urge to fix your hair in case it looks horrible. The door opens momentarily.

“Hey. What’s up?” Sunghoon wears a pair of dark green sweatpants and a large graphic t-shirt that makes him look like the stereotypical boy next door. You look up at him and gulp.  

“Sorry to bother you,” you apologize, suddenly feeling a lump growing in the back of your throat. 

“You’re not bothering me,” Sunghoon says it with a smile. He opens the door wider. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t really want to because you’re afraid you might trip and fall on your way inside, but you take up his offer anyway.

“Sure.” It comes out as a squeak.

His apartment is tidy and well kept with artwork adorning the walls in his living room. It’s more spacious than your own and his furniture makes the room look bigger than it probably is, with couches against the wall and a large TV in front of it. There are photographs hung in silver frames and pictures of people you don’t recognize, along with shelves of knick knacks and other small statues you assume are artwork he’s acquired over time. Sunghoon’s living room gives you the impression that he’s somebody who cares about taking care of himself and his space. He sees that you’re particularly drawn to the photo gallery on his wall and you feel him standing next to you.

“I took most of these pictures.” 

“Are you a photographer?”

“Not professionally, no. Photography is a hobby of mine.” 

“You’re really good.” 

“Thank you.” Sunghoon looks at you before averting his gaze back to the photo wall. “My mom gave me my first camera when I was eleven and I took it with me everywhere I went. Are you a photographer too?” 

You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t have an artistic eye like you do. But I appreciate good photos when I see them, or so I’d like to think.” Sunghoon smiles at that.

“I’m glad you think my photographs are worthy of praise. This is the first photo I ever took.” He points to an image of a young girl in the center of the photo gallery, whose short arms are reaching for the camera. She wears an infectious smile on her face that reveals a dimple on the side of her cheek. 

“Wow, you were really good even back then. Who is she, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“That’s my younger sister,” Sunghoon says with a fond smile. “I got this camera on my birthday and she wanted to see it after my dad helped me set it up. I think this might be my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.” 

“It’s a great shot.” You compliment Sunghoon sincerely and turn your head to look at him. He clears his throat. 

“What is it that you came here for?” 

“Oh, right!” Sheepishly balancing on both of your feet, you clasp your hands behind your back and lick your lips. “I, um, well…One of my best friends is hosting a housewarming party at his apartment, and I wanted to know if you’d like to come with me.” 

Sunghoon points at himself. “Me?” You nod. “I didn’t think we were that close.” You try not to let him see how embarrassed you are. 

“Sorry, it’s probably weird that I asked you even though we barely know each other, right?” It seems as though your brain cannot stop you from speaking, a habit you have every time you begin to feel nervous. You start to back away towards his front door. “It’s just that, well, we’ve been neighbors for almost a year and I thought to myself, why not make new friends? My friend told me to invite anybody I wanted to and we have a lot of the same friends, so I knew they’d be there too.” You wince at the sound of your voice. “Anyway, I’m sorry for bothering you and for asking.” 

Sunghoon shakes his head and grabs the doorknob before you can. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m honored that you invited me, actually. Living by yourself gets kind of lonely at times. It’s nice to go somewhere that isn’t home for a few hours. I’m a bit of an introvert and would like to make more friends.” 

“You don’t seem like an introvert to me,” you blurt out before slapping your palm over your mouth. “I mean, you’re doing just fine with me.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“My friend’s a great host and loves meeting new people. You’ll make at least one friend by the time you leave. Even if you don’t, there’s gonna be food there, so you’ll have a free meal out of it.” 

“Should I bring anything?” 

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“I feel like I shouldn’t come there empty handed if it’s a housewarming.” 

“I’m making peppermint brownies,” you tell him. “I’ll say it’s from both of us.” 

Sunghoon seems to be satisfied with your answer. “When’s the party?” 

“This Saturday at six. We could, uh, go together? If you want to, that is.” 

“It makes sense to go together. Do you drive? I can drive us if you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t drive.” Your cheeks feel warm at your admission and you don’t know why your inability to operate a car makes you feel a bit bashful. Sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though. 

“Okay, I’ll drive us. Where does your friend live?”

“Not too far. He’s about twenty minutes from us.” 

“I’ll knock on your door around 5:30,” Sunghoon says with a single nod. He reaches around you to open his door for you. 

“Sounds good!” Sunghoon smiles and waves before saying goodnight. You watch him as the door closes and rush back into your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest as you sit on your couch and text Heeseung about everything that just transpired. When he asks if you asked for Sunghoon’s number, you slouch. You didn’t think about that and now you’re too embarrassed to back and ask for it. 

Three days pass by quicker than you anticipated and your plate of peppermint brownies sits covered in tin foil on your kitchen counter as you wait for Sunghoon to knock on your door. You spent the entirety of the day worrying about the sweet treat and giving yourself enough time to get ready. Perhaps it’s a bit worrisome that you spent a good chunk of time standing in front of your closet to pick an outfit for tonight, but you want to make a good first impression on Sunghoon without the ugly sweater or pajamas you wore when you invited him to Jake’s party. 

You settle with flattering jeans and a nice top with an oversized leather jacket and find yourself wondering what kind of lipstick you should put on. It feels silly to worry about these things for a person who likely wouldn’t notice that type of effort, so you settle with something that compliments your skin tone but isn’t too over the top for a casual hang out. It’s just before 5:30 when you hear your doorbell ring and your heart rate perks up at the thought of Sunghoon waiting for you. 

“Hey,” you say to Sunghoon pathetically.. Sunghoon’s wearing a light grey quarter zip sweater with a few buttons hanging loose and black trousers. You avoid gawking at him from the threshold of your doorway, but it’s hard not to. 

“Long time no see,” he jokes. “Are you ready to head to the party?” His questions bring your eyes back to his face and you smile at him awkwardly. 

“Can you hold this for a second?” You hand Sunghoon the bag with Jake’s ugly sweater. “Let me get the brownies.” You barely register that Sunghoon’s holding a bag of his own until you walk back with the dessert, successfully locking your door without dropping your keys. “What's in the bag?” 

Sunghoon looks at you sheepishly. “I went out and bought some wine because I’d feel bad taking credit for your brownies when I didn’t help make them. There’s some soju in there too because I started to overthink and wondered if any of your friends drank wine.” 

You beam at Sunghoon. How thoughtful of him. “Wine and soju are perfect. The guys will probably drink that up before you get the chance to introduce yourself and I’ll happily drink the wine. My friend Jay might, too.” 

“I’m excited to meet your friends,” Sunghoon says as the two of you walk side by side towards the elevator. He presses the button and lets you walk inside the contraption first. “It’s been a while since I got the chance to meet new people.”

“If they make you uncomfortable or anything, let me know and we can leave.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you like them, then so do I.”

“That doesn’t seem very introverted of you.” He smiles at you and shrugs.

“I’m trying to get out of my shell.” Sunghoon lets you step out of the elevator and guides you to his car. “I keep to myself most of the time but I have my moments. It’s easy to get lost in a city as busy as Seoul but sometimes it gets a bit lonely.” 

He unlocks the door and puts the sweater in the backseat, along with the brownie tray on the floor for extra stability. You watch him open the passenger door for you and smile as you climb inside. Even the interior of his car is orderly and pristine. Sunghoon has you typing in Jake’s address before the two of you hit the road. 

Sunghoon drives like an expert, weaving between lanes without causing collisions or disturbance to the traffic. He uses his turn signals, which you appreciate, and doesn’t get too angry when people cut him off unnecessarily. He looks a bit too good from where you’re sitting with his jawline looking sharper than the edge of a knife with the glow from headlights shining across his face. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful Sunghoon looks from where you are and you’re having a hard time believing someone as handsome as him is talking to someone as awkward as you. 

“Are you from Seoul?” you ask him in the midst of the silence. His music hums in the background and pairs well with the smooth sound of his car’s engine. 

“No, I’m not.” Sunghoon spares you a glance. “I’m from a small suburb just outside of Busan.”

“Do you miss it?” His smile falters and you almost regret asking.

“Sometimes, but I think I’ve found my footing here. I love the city life and I like that everything is so different and loud. There are a million ways to live your life and nobody expects you to follow a certain path.” 

“Yeah, I agree with that. I’m from a small fishing town a few hours away from here where everyone comes from a long line of farmers and fisherman. It’s hard to carry that burden and expectation when fishing is the last thing you want to do with your life.” 

“People have a crazy way of making you feel indebted, don’t you think?”

You nod. “Agreed. Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying my time in Seoul. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, theoretically. Everyone back home used to tell me about the amount of bills I’d have to pay and how dangerous big cities are, but I’ve found a home here that I never felt back in my neighborhood. It’s like nobody knows who I am and I find comfort in that.” 

“I feel the same way. I can be whoever I want to be without people telling me it’s wrong. I don’t have to live my life by another person’s expectation and there are so many different things I could be doing with myself. How long have you been in Seoul? Have you visited your hometown at all?” 

“I’ve been here for eight years, if we count my university days, but I’ve been living here full time for four years. I went back home for a few months after graduating before getting the job I have now.” You play with your fingers as you speak, the feeling of guilt bubbling to the surface. “As for going home, well, I’ve been back but it’s hard to find the time with my job.”

“I understand that. I haven’t been home in a while either. I don’t really want to go back either.” You want to ask him why but don’t. 

“Does your younger sister still live there?” 

“She’s still back home and lives with our parents while he’s finishing up university in Busan, actually.” 

“Oh, that’s cool! It’s nice of your parents to let her stay at home while she studies.” Sunghoon smiles in a way you can’t decipher. 

“Yeah, really nice.” 

Sunghoon parks right in front of Jake’s apartment just when you’re starting to regret bringing up his family. You risk looking over at him and an apology sits on your tongue because it seems like a sore subject for him based on the short response, but Sunghoon exits the car and grabs the alcohol and the bag that contains the ugly sweater. You carry the brownies and feel a bit self conscious when you feel him walking behind you. Your shoes feel heavy around your feet and despite having been over to Jake’s apartment more times than you can count on both hands, you second guess every step you take on the way to his front door. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Sunghoon tells you after a beat of silence as you approach Jake's front door. You want to say something, but the door opening interferes with your thoughts. 

“Hey, you made it!” Jake ushers the two of you inside and by force of habit, you take off your shoes and out on the designated slippers you purposely left here when he first moved in. “Did you bring the sweater?” 

“The fact that you want to keep that ugly thing concerns me.” Heeseung gives you a hug and grabs the brownies from your hands as you struggle to take your coat off. “I’ll put this in the kitchen.” 

“Sunghoon has the sweater.” When you’re settled, you grab the paper bag and hand it to Jake. The warmth of his apartment feels comforting until you remember that your neighbor is a complete stranger in a new environment. You turn around to see him balancing awkwardly with a bag of alcohol behind his back. “Everyone, this is Sunghoon. Sunghoon, this is…everyone.” 

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, bringing his hand up to wave at your friends who’ve all gathered around to see the newcomer. Heeseung comes back after he’s put the dessert in the kitchen. The bottles in Sunghoon’s hands ring against one another, which makes Jake’s ears perk up. 

“Did you bring something?” 

“Wine and soju. She told me not to bring anything but I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 

“I told him we could bring brownies together.” Jake makes a face at you and grabs the bag of alcohol from Sunghoon’s hands, pulling him further into the apartment. 

“Thank you, Sunghoon.” He turns back to you. “The thought that you could’ve deprived us of alcohol is insane, actually.” 

You purse your lips and fold your arms in front of your chest. “He could’ve brought everyone ear muffs, for all you know. What are you gonna do with them if your big ass ears can barely handle your headphones?” 

“Ignore them,” Heeseung says to Sunghoon as he approaches the two of you. “They fight like siblings. I’m Heeseung.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I’m starting to think you guys are either really close or secretly hate each other.” 

“I hate Jake and love everybody else.” Jake bumps your hip and smiles at you, and you find that you can’t keep up that faux attitude for very long. He pulls you into a hug before properly introducing himself to Sunghoon and walks to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine and store the rest in his refrigerator. 

“Do you want a drink or some food? We have a little pot luck going on.”

“I could use a drink.”

Heeseung beckons Sunghoon towards the kitchen while Jay steps beside you, and your neighbor turns back to look at you before disappearing around the corner. “See? It’s not so scary once you take the first step.” 

“Your face was chiseled by God. You of all people don’t have to worry about rejection.”

Jay laughs at that. “Still, though. You’ve been talking about Sunghoon for so long that I was getting worried he might’ve been a figment of your imagination.” 

“I might be delusional, but I’m not crazy.”

“We all have our ways to cope.” You bump your shoulder with his. “You should know we’re all rooting for you and Sunghoon.” 

“Oh my God, it’s not like I pictured myself marrying him!” You whisper-yell loud enough for him to hear through gritted teeth and smack his bicep. “I just think he’s cute. The thought of being rejected by him scares the shit out of me.”

“He’s just a guy?” 

“A beautiful, charming guy.”

“Again, just a guy.” 

It’s his turn to make you laugh. “You always keep me grounded, Jongseong.” 

“Who else will? But anyway, you should also know that Jake decided to host this housewarming party because Heeseung told us you ran into him on your way to work.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or weirded out by that.” 

“It’s Jake we’re talking about. He has his ways of showing it, but he’s a sentimental guy.” 

“I guess I should thank him if tonight goes well.”

“Don’t stress about anything too much.” Jay starts to walk towards the kitchen and beckons for you to follow him. “Let’s get you a drink.”

You spot Sunghoon first, who leans against Jake’s counter while he looks at all of the food your friends brought (Chick-Fil-A catering, because he’s been craving it and Heeseung offered to pay for half of it). There’s an impressive selection of alcohol beside the large platter of breaded chicken, and macaroni and cheese that smells like it’s just been pulled out of the oven. Sunghoon seems entertained enough with Jake fixing him a plate and opening a bottle of beer for him. You stand beside Jay and feel a bit silly worrying over whether or not your guest feels comfortable with your group of friends, but he seems to be doing okay because he isn’t searching for you. 

“How do you guys know each other?” 

“This one spilled coffee on me when we first met.” Heeseung laughs at the memory and the tips of his ears turn a deep shade of red. He’s talkative when he has enough alcohol in his system and the nostalgia makes you curl into yourself as Jay hands you a bottle of beer. Everyone looks at you when Heeseung points in your direction. 

“She’s really fucking clumsy.”

“Thanks for the commentary, Jake,” you say sarcastically. 

“We work together at a marketing agency and started around the same time,” Heeseung explains further. “She just moved to the city and we clicked on our first day.” 

“I met the other two through Heeseung, actually.” Sunghoon looks between Jay and Jake when you gesture, who each seem like they’ve also started drinking before you arrived. 

“We’re friends from college and we all decided to stay around the area after graduating.” Jay pours himself a glass of wine and you can see Sunghoon beginning to perk up when he notices. You find that kind of cute. 

“Heeseung’s the reason we’re all friends.” Jake pats his friend on the back. “It’s funny though because we actually all met her at his housewarming all those years ago too.” 

“Huh,” says Sunghoon. “What a coincidence. Sounds like you guys have a thing for housewarming parties.” 

“I’ll take up any excuse to host. It’s how we get her to come out of her shell.” Your cheeks warm up but you aren’t sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because everyone’s looking at you again. 

“She’s a bit of an introvert, but she’s really fun when you get to know her. Sorta like a diamond in the rough type of thing.” 

“Okay, wow! We don’t have to talk about me.” 

Jake points at a grocery store receipt on his refrigerator and grins. “This is the first time she bought groceries for me when I moved in a few months ago. She’s a bit sentimental and put this on when she came over for the first time. It’s nice, though.” 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. Sunghoon smiles at you and those fairytale-like butterflies in the pit of your stomach feel like they’re flying in a metal cage. 

“I like that you’re sentimental. You’re a little like me. I decided to come to this party because somebody else gave me the choice to be social.” 

“Yeah.” You’re a bit breathless and you’re sure Jay’s grinning beside you. “I get a bit intimidated when I do something different or meet new people.”

“Who doesn’t?” You suppose he’s right. 

“She’s incredible with gifts, too. Last year, she got me a signed guitar by my favorite musician because they worked on a campaign together.” Jay takes out his phone to show Sunghoon a photo of the autographed instrument. 

“So thoughtful,” Sunghoon says absentmindedly. It throws your heart in a loop.

“There is so much more to talk about beyond me,” you say, embarrassed that your friends are doting on you in front of Sunghoon. The attention is a bit too much and you grab another beer on your way out of the kitchen, choosing not to look back at the four boys who all laugh at your exit. 

The entire night goes smoother than you could’ve ever hoped for. Your friends leave the weird, overbearing protectiveness in the kitchen when you walk out of it and talk to Sunghoon like he’s their friend too. It still makes you a bit shy when they actively support you in this crush because you aren’t used to this level of care and trust in people. Affection makes you a bit uncomfortable and you wish it didn’t.

Sunghoon seems like he’s enjoying himself as well. You can tell he’s a little buzzed but stopped drinking halfway through the night to sober up by the time he has to drive. Even in your inebriated state, you appreciate his sense of responsibility. He’s rolled the sleeves of his quarter zip up and you try your best not to drool over his toned arms every time he moves his hands when he talks. Sunghoon looks so effortlessly cool when with your friends and it’s almost as if he’s known the three of them for as long as you’ve known them to the point where you’re questioning if he’s truly an introvert or not. 

It’s this level of comfort that keeps you in Seoul. Surrounding yourself with people who support you unconditionally feels like a reward after spending your childhood wishing for the friends you have now. It feels like everybody has a place in your life because you’ve done the work to keep people who love you for who you are rather than somebody they assume you to be. It’s nice to let go of the high walls you’ve built around yourself for protection. 

Eventually, half of the alcohol is gone and so has all of the food. Jake’s had a bit of influence over your drunken state because as he puts it, he’s the host and needs to make sure everybody is having a good time. You’re not one to blame him though, since you’ve been accepting every shot and drink he’s put in your hand. Jay’s the one who prevents Jake from giving you anything more when he sees the way you’re swaying in your spot on the floor where all of you have formed a circle. 

Jake returns from the kitchen after throwing away empty bottles. “Damn, so all of us are staying here for the holidays?”

“I haven’t decided if I’m staying or not, if that counts for anything. My parents are going to be in London but there’s a month and a half until Christmas, so I have some time to decide.” 

“Sunghoon, you’ve got to be crazy rich if you can afford to fly to Europe at the last minute.” You’re about to scold your friend but Sunghoon just laughs. 

“I suppose I’m a bit privileged like that. I’ve spent every holiday season back home and wanted to try something different this year.”

“What does Christmas in your hometown look like?” 

“Really cold. Almost as cold as Seoul when the snow begins to fall. We take Christmas seriously since we’re primarily known as a holiday destination for people who like that kind of stuff. A lot of our publicity revolves around the holidays, so my city is a little bit like a winter wonderland. At least, that’s what they want you to believe.” 

“Sounds like the perfect place for you,” Heeseung says as he nods over at you. 

“Why’s that?” 

“She loves Christmas. She can’t get enough of it and does everything holiday-related as soon as summer ends.” 

“Do you like Christmas that much?” Sunghoon asks you with apprehension in his tone.

“You don’t?” 

Sunghoon shrugs at your small outburst. “Our whole thing is about Christmas and holiday festivities. It gets a little old when you’re surrounded by it all the time” 

“Sounds like a dream.” He smiles at you. 

“I’m sure you’d like it there. My parents love the holidays and go all out every year. It’s a bit corny but they’re wholesome people and I know they love their country as much as anyone else.”

“She always knows what’s going on around town if it has anything to do with the holidays,” Jake tells him. 

“Oh, really?”

“Did you know there’s gonna be a Christmas market right next to Yonsei? They’re gonna be selling a bunch of baked goods and decorative stuff. I heard their food trucks are really good.” 

Jay chimes in. “We should go next weekend.” Jake elbows his ribcage. “Actually, you two should go together.” 

“Us?” Sunghoon points between him and yourself. 

“Yeah, why not?” Jake shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer. “She’s a huge fan of the holidays and you’ve never experienced it here. Why not see what Christmas in Seoul looks like?” 

“I’m not big on those kinds of things.” Your heart plummets and you don’t really know why. You put a smile on your face anyway. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Sunghoon. I don’t mind doing these things alone and you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” 

There is an indescribable look on Sunghoon’s face when you finish speaking and the living room is completely silent. He peeks at you through his long eyelashes and it feels as if he’s inspecting you from where he sits. Neither of your friends say anything either and you’re one second from awkwardly laughing when you realize nobody’s saying anything until Sunghoon speaks up again. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“You really don’t have to.” 

He cocks his head to the side. “It sounds like you’re really excited about it. I might be tired of Christmas but maybe you can change my mind.” 

His words fly right over your head and Heeseung can see it in the way you beam at the mention of Sunghoon’s proposal. Even he hears the absurdity of it all when he looks at Sunghoon, who doesn’t spare anybody else a glance. You try to contain your excitement and keep smiling to a minimum, but you feel your cheeks harden anyway and Sunghoon smiles right back at you. 

“We could go tomorrow!” 

“You’ve had quite a bit to drink,” Heeseung reminds you. “Maybe next weekend?” 

“You, of all people, should know that I don’t get hangovers. I'm too excited just thinking about it.”

“We can go tomorrow if you’re not too tired. I can check in with you when I wake up. How does 10 AM sound?” 

You sigh, content. “Perfect.” 

When the conversation starts to die down naturally, everybody seems to be under the impression that it’s time to go. You say goodbye to your friends and thank Jake for hosting the party, choosing not to tell him what Jay had revealed to you earlier. Sunghoon seems like he had a great time because as you’re putting your shoes on, you see him exchanging numbers with everybody else. Sunghoon carries the empty tray that was once filled with dessert and tells Jake to keep the rest of the alcohol, no doubt solidifying him as someone he’d want to keep around. The drive back to your apartment feels too long for your liking and your body feels heavy when the two of you arrive at your respective doors. 

“Thanks for driving. I promise I don’t usually get this drunk.” You hiccup. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I only get this drunk when I’m with this specific group of friends.” 

“It’s fine. It’s nice to let go every once in a while.” 

You look up at him. “Did you have fun?” 

“I did,” he says with a single, firm nod. “Your friends are really funny. I was kind of worried about it on the way here because I tend to be really quiet when I meet new people for the first time, but it felt like we knew each other already.” 

“They knew about you.”

“Did they?” 

“Mhm.” You hiccup again. “I told them about my new neighbor a while ago and thought you looked cool, but I’m a little awkward, you know? I don’t really know how to talk to people without someone else acting as a buffer.” 

“Could've fooled me. You did just fine.” 

“That’s because you saw me in Jake’s ugly fucking sweater.” You make a face at the memory, cheeks heating up at the look on Sunghoon’s face when his eyes roamed from the fabric to your face. “You called me ugly.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I called the sweater ugly. Not you.” 

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” Your question catches Sunghoon off guard, but you’re already fishing for your apartment keys when he looks at you. 

“No, I don’t.” You don’t seem to be paying attention to him as you successfully jam your keys into the lock on the second try. He sees a peek inside when you open the door and watches you stumble inside before latching onto the doorknob to balance yourself. 

“Thanks for coming with me, Sunghoon. I’m really glad you had fun. I think my friends like you a lot.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. They’re a little protective over me and like to make sure any guy I hang out with is cool. You know how it is.” Sunghoon holds the door open for you while you take your shoes off and throw your purse somewhere on your couch before turning around to look at him. 

“I mean it, though. Thanks for coming and dealing with me and my friends. We’re a little bit of a handful.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. “Not in the way you think. It’s nice that you have people in your life that you can be yourself around and it seems like they love you just as much as you love them.” 

“I really love my friends. But don’t tell them I said that.” Sunghoon pretends to zip his mouth shut. 

“Your secret's safe with me.” You look at him with an unreadable expression, but it gets replaced with a tired smile. 

“Sleep well, okay? My friends are your friends.” 

“You’re so generous,” he says with a laugh. You take a step forward but retract when the sober part of your brain reminds you that the two of you aren’t likely close enough to give each other a hug goodbye. 

“...Do you still want to come to the Christmas market with me tomorrow?” 

“I’ll give you one chance to convince me that the holidays are fun, but only if you wake up without a hangover.” He laughs when you give him a mock salute.

“I don’t get hangovers, remember?” You tap the side of your head with your pointer finger. Sunghoon smiles down at you before pulling his phone from the back of his pocket. 

“I should probably get your number too.” 

“Oh.” He hands it to you and your fingers suddenly feel numb. You manage to type your number and try to think of something cute and quirky to put as your contact, ultimately settling with your name followed by the ‘:)’ symbol. It’s casual but you think it makes you stand out from generic contact names, as Sunghoon seems like the kind of guy who keeps everything straight to business. 

“I’ll text you so you have my number too.” You pull out your phone when you see him typing. 

Unknown: It’s Sunghoon! :) 

You feel like a creep trying to bite back a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Don’t push yourself if you wake up too tired but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep tonight.” 

“I promise. Goodnight, Sunghoon.”

***

You aren’t sure whether you’re pleased or not when you wake up at eight o’clock on the dot with no chance of falling back asleep in sight. You turn to see that your phone is fully charged and force yourself to  leave your warm, comfortable bed to prepare yourself for the day. You don’t respond to the text Sunghoon sent last night and don’t know if he’s going to keep up his end of the bargain and go with you to the Christmas market, but you decide to get ready in the event that he was serious about it. 

Your friends text you too, both in the group chat and separately. Heeseung, as always, is telling you not to overthink anything and enjoy spending time with your neighbor crush. He tries to be as encouraging as he can but can’t help slipping in a few jokes here and there about how fast you’re growing up (even though you’re only a few months younger than he is). Jay sends you words of encouragement too, but he keeps it straight to the point and tells you to buy him something that you think he’d like if you stumble across anything. Jake, on the other hand, makes far too many inappropriate jokes that you have no choice but to laugh. You feel something akin to a high school crush getting ready for a first date even though this isn’t technically a date. 

You’ve managed to pull yourself together and see that the time is half past nine when you check the clock. Sunghoon hasn’t texted you at all today so you take the liberty to let him know you’re awake and hope you don’t come off as pushy or overly eager. But he responds in kind and tells you he’s getting ready and will be knocking on your door soon. 

True to his word, Sunghoon stands at your doorstep when it’s 10 AM.

“You look so cozy,” he says. 

Never mind that you’re swearing something you deemed cute and casual that pairs well with the low temperature outside along with the snowfall from last night. Sunghoon steps out looking like a model himself with his tailored trousers, a graphic shirt, and a denim jean jacket. He looks like the epitome of every girl’s fantasy of the boy next door once again.

“You look really good.” You say it before you can catch yourself and he laughs. 

“You think so?” Your eyes snap up at him as you frantically close your door behind you and lock it.  

“Will you be warm enough in that?” 

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern.” You frown when he starts to lead you towards the elevator. 

“If you say so.” You see a small silver camera peeking out of his pockets. “What’s that?” 

He pulls it out for you to see. “It’s a Z155 film camera. I got it before moving to Seoul and wanted to learn how to photograph with this type of camera. Cool, right?” 

Your worries dissipate the more you walk through your neighborhood and onto the outdoor market you’ve had bookmarked for weeks. Perhaps it’s the warm coffee amidst the chilly winter that excited you, or the handmade decorations that seem far too inexpensive for what they’re worth, but your face lights up when you walk through the aisles. There are too many vendors for you to look at and the overwhelming feeling perks up in your chest when you see different people trying to attract customers. But you’d argue that’s one of your favorite parts; hearing people talk about why they love the holidays so much brings you a sense of joy and fulfillment you don’t feel elsewhere. Sunghoon is a good sport about it too despite being a bit apprehensive at first. He graciously paid for your coffee and breakfast consisting of a warm butter croissant. It melts on your tongue and you regret not buying a second one.

People always ask you why you love the holidays so much and you tell them it’s because there’s no greater joy than being surrounded by your loved ones into the new year. You’ve always been a fan of winter despite the sun setting earlier than it does in the summer. Doing winter-related things in the appropriate season makes you happy, especially if you manage to drag one of your friends along for the ride. You draw the line at caroling, though. That’s taking it a bit too far. 

But the real reason is that Christmastime and the beginning of snowfall always marks a vicious cycle of wishing you could be anywhere but the present. Your childhood was riddled with uncertainties and walking on eggshells around your family and friends, and your household often felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. You were too afraid of making a mistake and chose to retreat within yourself, operating under the assumption that pleasing everybody else was how to protect yourself and your feelings. 

Prior to moving to Seoul, the start of the cold season was a reminder that your life wasn’t as picture perfect as you liked to imagine it was. No amount of television shows or fictitious scenarios running through your head before falling asleep would ever negate the neglect and absent feeling of joy in your heart as autumn turned into winter. You used to bide your time by hoping the months would roll past you until the springtime arrived. It always felt humiliating to hear your friends tell you about their vacations and all of the presents they received that year when the most your family could do was keep the lights on. That emptiness in the depths of your heart felt like it was void of feeling anything at all, and the holidays served as a reminder that things wouldn’t get better. 

It’s no surprise when Sunghoon turns to you as you both walk through the aisles of jewelry and artwork vendors when he asks you why you love Christmas so much. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to give the rehearsed spiel you reserve for people who don’t know you very well, and instead give him a half-truth.  

“This time of year is hard for some people and I used to feel like the world would stop spinning if I didn’t try to be at least a little happy when I moved to Seoul a few years ago. I was all alone for the first time in my entire life and barely knew anybody, and had to come up with my own way of cheering myself up since I spent it alone. I did a bunch of things by myself, like going to holiday markets or ice skating. I didn’t mind the solitude that much.” 

“Were you friends with Heeseung and the guys at that time?” 

“Barely. Heeseung and I were only coworkers back then but we sat across from each other every day to be friendly. But I didn’t know him as well as I do now and had a few roommates who went back home for a couple of weeks. It was pretty lonely and I hated feeling like I was stuck when I was the one who wanted to move to the big city.” 

“I think I understand. Christmas is a reminder of overcoming hardship for your first time living by yourself.” 

You nod, a bit relieved that he understands you a little bit. “Kind of, yeah. I didn’t grow up in the happiest household and wanted to do something good for myself since I left my hometown. It feels like a shame if I don’t at least try.” 

“I think that’s the most profound thing anybody has ever said to me.” 

“I sound like one of those generic books with corny quotes.” 

“Can’t be corny if it’s true.” 

You smile at him. “I’ve become a lot better about being positive and optimistic since getting to know the guys, too. Hanging out with them during my second year in Seoul made me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was, and even when they all went home to visit their families, I didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around me when I was alone for a few days. It felt nice to trust people and realize that people cared about me the way I wanted them to.”

“They sound like really great friends.”

“They are. I don’t know what I’d do without them, if I’m being totally honest. I think my mom was worried about me for the first year of me living here because I barely talked about meeting anybody. She used to complain that I always talked about work and that I stayed in too much on the weekends. I used to think she was just berating me but I get it now.”

“Sounds like she wanted you to get out and have fun.” 

“Yeah. I guess my mom was trying to tell me to get a life without directly telling me. She loves it when I send her pictures of myself outside of my apartment and I fill her in on things I’ve been up to that don't have to do with my career. She’s proud of me in that sense but always reminds me that there’s more to life than my job.”

“You have a great mom, from what I can tell. She has your best interest at heart and I think it’s sweet of her to care about you so much. What about your dad? Do you talk to him at all?” 

You look to the ground. “No. He passed away four years ago.” 

“Oh.” Sunghoon nods silently and tucks his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s no need to be. It happened a long time ago.” 

Sunghoon nods from your peripheral vision. “Do you see your mom often? Does she visit you in Seoul?” 

You shake your head. “She works at a fish dock and can’t take a lot of time off.” 

“I see. Do you visit her, then?” 

You’re acutely aware of Sunghoon walking beside you but his footsteps fall deaf to your ears when you think about your mother and picture her throwing nets of fish into baskets to sell to merchants in the same afternoon. She wakes up hours before the sun rises to greet fishermen by the docks as soon as daylight breaks and leaves when the space is clean and the fish is sold. You picture her in rubber overalls and boots, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail with a mask covering the lower half of her face to avoid the scent of the fish even though she tells you she’s used to it by now. 

It was hard to deal with her waning hours in your childhood and you often yearned for her presence when you awoke to see no trace of her in your household. You had a knack for differentiating the difference in gait between her and your father, and hearing the heavier steps of his footsteps always made you disappointed. Feeling his presence outside of your bedroom door felt like it was a prison sentence.

In a town that seldom encourages any lifestyle aside from fishing and farming, you always find a bit of solace in creative writing clubs and the school musicals as a way to excuse yourself from the small town life. You’d picture yourself underneath a single spotlight, standing center stage where everybody in the audience regarded you as someone who’d make it far beyond the borders of the isolated town. You imagine them roaring in applause when you took your final bow with your mother sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers in her hands.

But life and finances were immediate priorities to keep the roof over your heads and the table full of food. The electricity bill was renewed solely by your mother’s efforts to keep the three of you afloat whereas your father could barely keep a job for longer than a few months before the inevitable discussion of his unemployment. You recall hearing hushed conversations that always escalated to loud arguments just outside of your bedroom door and shoved headphones into your ears to drown out the sound of an unhappy marriage. 

His absence was deafening and there were moments where you preferred a chaotic household over a quiet one. In the mere weeks that followed his death, life seemed to move on for your mother but not for you. She still woke up before dawn and never complained about the cold weather during the winter months or the heavy rainfalls in the summer. Whereas she endured life as if he hadn’t passed, you carried the weight of emotional neglect and dissonance of your relationship with him. 

The funeral was a month later and his cremated remains were spread along the larger lake nearby because he always said he would never choose to move away from water. The boat ride to the deepest part of the lake was uncomfortable and frustrating as your mother and two of his closest friends lamented over his passing, barely touching on the hardship he put your family through in his years being alive. It seemed like everyone was able to forgive him and move on as if every single person in his family went unscathed. Listening to them recite their happiest memories with him felt like a knife twisting in your heart until it stopped beating. 

Moving away was bittersweet, too. The neighborhood you grew up in never felt like a home to you but it would always be nostalgic. It was a plot of land with four walls and a roof, and yet the memories you’ve made haunt every corner of your street like a ghost that refuses to cross into the light. The grey walls look more dreary and dull than it had before and the large tree that grew on the lawn was cut down after years of neglect. Your old house looked brand new and unrecognizable. Everything had changed too quickly for your liking. Even when you packed your last box in the moving van, the emptiness of your bedroom felt like you were saying goodbye to a part of your life you’d never yearn for again. You’ve never looked back since. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.” Sunghoon brings you out of your temporary stupor. 

“It’s alright. I didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts.” 

He gently knocks his shoulder into yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t think talking about even more depressing things is gonna put you in the holiday spirit.” 

“Keeping them to yourself just to make other people comfortable won’t put you in the holiday spirit either.” You know he’s right and begin to gnaw at your inner cheek. 

“I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“The nice thing about having friends is that you can say whatever you want and they won't judge you.” Sunghoon smiles at you like he means it. His eyes twinkle underneath the sun and, even if for a moment, you feel like he’s right. 

“My mom and I are close, even if we don’t talk every single day. She works at a fishing dock and that takes up most of her time, and I work at one of the busiest marketing agencies in Korea, which eats up my week. We find the time to talk to each other and I tell her almost everything. I don’t think there’s a secret of mine she doesn’t know. 

“But even so, I love her too much to ever tell her how I’m barely handling everything. It's like I’ve been running into a brick wall every time I try to walk away from grieving. It’s always been the two of us even when he was alive. She raised me the best she could because he was always physically there, but never emotionally present for either of us. His passing left so many questions unanswered and unresolved feelings but it seems like she’s moved on from it.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“It was a long time ago. My dad and I were never that close. There were a few good memories that I think about from time to time, but sometimes they’re ruined by all of the bad things I think about when I think about him. It’s an endless cycle of self sabotaging and I can’t stop myself from doing it. My mom wants me to visit her for a weekend during the holidays and she keeps asking me when I want to come home, but I keep pushing it off because I can’t bring myself to go back to a place that made me unhappy.” 

Sunghoon remains quiet beside you. When you take a peek at him, he looks as if he’s deep in thought as he looks ahead at the environment and watches the children play on the nearby playground. His eyebrows are furrowed only slightly and his mouth forms a downward pout, and you’re left wondering what he's thinking about. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do you feel guilty for putting it off?” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“It’s almost like you know it's the right thing to do but you can’t bring yourself to do it. People teach you that family is everything, but when they force you to act and feel a certain way, it’s like you’re suffocating.”

“It’s like you took the words right out of my mouth. I keep telling her I’d think about it but I always feel guilty because it’s just an excuse to put off making a decision. I’d feel guilty if I don’t go, but I can’t bring myself to make that trip, even if she’s just a few hours away.” 

“My parents are a bit similar. They’ve given me more than I could ever ask for, and yet I still feel selfish for wanting to explore myself without them right behind me.” 

“I feel like an awful daughter every time I don’t agree to go home. I know she can tell I feel hesitant about it. I don't want to make her worry and I wish this feeling would go away. I can’t face my fears yet.” 

“Pardon if this is a difficult question for you, but…Is your father the main reason why you don’t want to go back?” 

“Yes.” You answer him meekly, as if telling the truth above a whisper will send you straight to purgatory. “I can’t walk in my neighborhood without hearing the sound of his voice when he yelled at me. Being in my house makes me think of all the times he’d threaten to throw me onto the streets for something as stupid as forgetting to wash the dishes. That place is a carousel of bad memories that I never want to think about ever again.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s normal for me now but it doesn’t make me feel any better if I try to frame it as ordinary. It doesn’t hurt me on most days. I push him out of my mind and focus on the present but the holidays are when I start to think about him and my childhood the most. I’ve never had a peaceful winter. There was always something going on and either Christmas or New Year’s was always ruined.”

“Is that why you love the holidays so much? To override your bad memories and create new ones?” 

“Yes. I never want to feel the way that I did before he passed away and having my friends here with me makes me forget about how sad I get when October rolls around. The weather gets colder but I try to do everything I can to think about how much I have to look forward to now that I’ve got so much time to do whatever I want. I learned that I can’t rely on somebody else to make me feel like I have something to live for.” 

“That’s admirable of you and I hope you know that.” 

“I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It is, though. It sounds like you had a rough childhood and your mom was spread thin with her job that it left you with someone who couldn’t take care of you. I can hear it in the way you talk. You’ve got this determination inside of you whether you realize it or not.”

“Sometimes I feel like it’s all for nothing. I wake up and live my life but it doesn't feel like I’m getting better.”

“You have your whole life ahead of you to understand the grieving process and work through that. You’ll never know if you don’t stick around to find out, will you?” 

“No, I suppose not.” 

“My parents put a lot of pressure on me to perform well in everything. Bad grades weren’t acceptable and I juggled a few different sports to fill my free time. It always felt like they set me on a path that I needed to follow instead of allowing me to figure out myself on my own. I know they meant well and I know they loved me, but sometimes I wonder if they’d love me knowing that I want something different than their future for me. 

“How do you handle it?” 

“I don’t.” Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly and the hard snow underneath his foot crunches loudly as you near the end of the aisleway. “I keep putting it off like you do. I’m here in Seoul because they agreed to let me explore the city for a while until it’s time for me to return and discuss the future they want for me.” 

“What do they expect you to do?”

Sunghoon purses his lips. “They want me to take over the family business. My father is adamant that I come home and take it seriously because he’s planning on retiring soon and trusts me to be the person who handles everything. They run a local grocery market chain and love that lifestyle but it’s not for me. I want to be here in Seoul and figure out what my life is supposed to look like without them holding onto the dream that I’ll run the company. They’ve made good money off of it and found success as they’re starting to expand, but I don't want to have any part in it.

“I majored in business and operations when I was in university but hated every second of it. I always felt like I was grinding myself to the bones but I did it to make them happy. I never felt like I got the chance to do anything I wanted to do until they agreed to let me move here.” 

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who’d run a grocery store chain.”

Sunghoon beams at that. “I don’t think so either. I like to think of myself as pretty creative but I don’t know what to do with that. I didn’t take any photography classes in college and I feel like my time is running up.” 

“The beauty of time is that there’s so much of it. You can do anything you want, whenever you want.” 

“Thanks. I’ve been taking a few photography classes here and there.” He pulls out the camera from his pocket and lets you look at it. “Lately, this is how I’ve been getting my creative fix. It feels good to do anything other than learning about how grocery stores operate. I couldn’t care less about that and I feel like myself when I’m behind the camera.” 

“I like that you’re so passionate about photography, Sunghoon. I can hear how much you love it by how you’re talking about it. It’s nice to hear people talk about their hobbies.” 

“He tries to hide a smile but fails, and instead turns the camera on and holds it above his eye. “Can I take a picture of you?” 

“Me?” 

He pulls it away and grins. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?” You stand beside a large collection of snowglobes and pick one up as Sunghoon points the camera at you again. 

“You could’ve been talking to this snowglobe for all I know.” 

“Too bad. I want to take a photo of you. Smile for me.” 

Reluctantly, you do and see the flash go off before putting the snowglobe down and apologizing to the vendor, who doesn’t seem to be displeased with what transpired in front of her. Sunghoon thanks her too with a short bow before turning his camera off and tucking it back inside of his pocket. 

“The fun of film photography is seeing the pictures when they develop. As much as I love learning about lighting and composition, I like it when I don’t think too hard about the photos I take and seeing which ones come out good and which ones don't. It’s always a gamble but it's a safe bet.”

“You’re lucky. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.” 

He cocks his head. “Maybe not in the way you think you do. Your friends were talking my ear off about how cool you are when it comes to your work. Heeseung told me you’re considering applying for a promotion because of your recent campaigns.” 

You blush and look away from him. “It’s nothing. I don’t think that’s really creative.” 

“You’re amazing, even if you don’t realize it. I think it’s cool that you work so closely with clients and help their vision come to life.” This feels like too kind of a thing for Sunghoon to say after having known you for such a short amount of time, but you can’t deny and say you don’t feel your heart fluttering with every compliment he gives you. 

Instead of responding by stuttering over your words, you drag Sunghoon through the remainder of the market and enjoy multiple warm cups of hot cocoa and try all of the desserts they have to offer. You end up buying a few things for your friends to add to their holiday gifts, even though they’ve been sitting in your bedroom for the past few weeks. Sunghoon reluctantly allows you to cover the lunch bill when you bring up how he bought every beverage and dessert the two of you have tried. He sees you signing the back of the receipt after writing today’s date.

“Why do you do that?” 

You hold the receipt up. “This?” 

“Yeah. Why do you sign it?” 

“I like keeping mementos of things. My fridge is covered in different letters, receipts, and artwork from friends and family. I have an entire box of receipts from important moments that I want to remember. I usually have the people I’m with sign them too and go through the receipts when I feel nostalgic.” 

“Do you think this moment is worth being nostalgic over?” You blush. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

Sunghoon blushes too. “I think that’s really cute, actually.” You slide the pen over to him. 

“Do you want to sign it?” His signature looks like that of a movie star. Even his penmanship is perfect. “There. Now you can look at this receipt when you miss me.” 

“Or I could just knock on your door until you let me in.”

“What says I’ll let you in?” 

“Because I’m the best neighbor you will ever have and even though you say you don’t like Christmas, you have to admit that you’re having fun.” 

Sunghoon smiles at that. “Yeah, you could definitely say that. I might have to come over to your apartment to see this receipt box of yours.” Sunghoon looks at you with a smile that makes you weak in the knees. It feels like you’re the subject of a reality TV show and you’re waiting for the camera crew to come out of their hiding spots and tell you this is all for show, but that never happens. 

“You know where I live,” you say to him coyly, backing away slowly as you throw your trash away. “Knock on my door any time.” 

Sunghoon laughs and you think you’d rather die than never hear it again.

***

You don’t get the chance to see Sunghoon during the week because of your work schedule but find yourself texting him whenever you get the chance. Your evenings are for catching up on TV shows that are halfway completed and messaging him even though he lives across the hallway. He hasn’t made an effort to come over to your apartment and neither have you, but you find yourself making plans with him to go ice skating with him during the following weekend and choose to look forward to that instead of letting your insecurities get the better of you. 

Heeseung asks you for updates and you can’t help but divulge into the whole truth, including every small thing Sunghoon did or said that made you overthink when he dropped you off at your apartment. He’s attentive and teases you every time you get a bit too shy to tell him how much fun you had with Sunghoon but tells you he’s proud that you’re putting yourself out there and making a new friend. Heeseung tells you that he and your other friends have been texting Sunghoon as well and discovered that they share a lot of common interests, and that they’ve got loose plans to see each other for drinks in the future. It warms your heart to know your friends like Sunghoon enough to include him in things, which makes you feel a little crazy considering he isn’t your boyfriend and you’ve officially known him for about three weeks. 

You find yourself standing on ice skates when the weekend approaches and you’re surprised to see that the outdoor rink is empty for a Saturday afternoon. You’re better than the average skater thanks to a childhood interest in figure skating and buying a ticket to the outdoor rink at least once every winter season. Sunghoon tells you he picked it up as a hobby when he was younger but his agility when he glides on the ice tells you he’s better than he claims. 

It’s chilly and your gloves protect your hands from the biting chill. Sunghoon’s alabaster skin looks like it’s glowing underneath the bright sun and his sunglasses make him look like the epitome of cool if you were to look it up in the dictionary. He keeps himself skating fairly close to you but you aren’t sure if that’s because he wants to be in your personal bubble or not. Either way, you sweat underneath your clothes and try to focus on balancing yourself on top of the hard ice. 

Sunghoon paid for your tickets and skate rentals too. He surprised you by signing his name and today’s date on the receipt for your safekeeping, telling you to keep it in your purse so it doesn’t get lost. He said it like it’s a matter-of-fact and not something only you do because you love being nostalgic about happy memories. Your hands shake as you lace up your skates and Sunghoon patiently waits for you to finish putting on the other shoe before taking up space on the ice. That feels warm.  

“I can’t help but like Christmas a little bit more when I’m on the ice.” Sunghoon takes his hands out of his pockets and runs his hand through his hair, and it makes you want to swoon. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Something about it feels like it should be done only in the wintertime. The Christmas music is helping me feel a little more festive anyway.” 

“There used to be a skating rink by my old middle school before it shut down a few years ago. I’d go with my friends as soon as December hit and learn how to skate because the owner saw me beg my parents to let me take lessons, but it was too expensive. She gave them a discount for my first few lessons.” 

“Did you stop skating?” 

“Yeah. They were able to pay for lessons as I advanced because of a bonus my mom received at work and she chose to spend it on me. My dad never cared that much but attended a few of my lessons here and there when my mom couldn’t drive me.”

“Did you compete?” 

“No, it was mostly for fun. I stopped because the financial burden was getting too much. Figure skating is the only thing I regret quitting.” 

“I stopped skating because it got in the way of my studies.” Sunghoon purses his lips. “I wasn’t aiming to go pro, or anything. It was a fun hobby I liked to do after school but my parents said it took up too much of my time because my grades weren’t straight A’s.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs. “It’s not like I can’t skate anymore but sometimes it felt like I was being primed to take over their company and I could feel that when I was in high school. Ice skating was my way of trying to tell them that wasn’t the life I wanted, but I don’t think they got the message. I ended up quitting halfway into my sophomore year.”

“Do you miss being on the ice? 

“Sometimes. I competed at local competitions and thought about what my life would’ve looked like if I committed to a professional career, but I decided that wasn’t for me. I wanted to do something creative. Anything different than running a grocery chain.”

You bump Sunghoon’s hip. “Sounds like you’ve found your niche in photography.” 

“Ah, I hope so. I should show you some of the photos I have that aren’t on my wall.”

“Do you have a website or an Instagram for your pictures?” 

“No, but I probably should.” 

“You definitely should. I’ll even be your first follower and tell everyone to follow you.” 

Sunghoon smiles down at you. “How sweet of you.” 

“What happens next? You mentioned that your parents let you come to Seoul for a little while, but what happens after that?” 

His shoulders sulk. “Honestly? I don’t know. I moved into this apartment this past January and they said they’d give me a year to do whatever I want before I take over the business. I’m not so sure that I want to go back.” 

“Does that mean you have to move?” Sunghoon avoids looking at you. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh.” The silence permeated for a moment. 

“I don’t want to leave, though.” Sunghoon clears his throat and shoves his hands back in his pockets. “I love Seoul and the freedom to do whatever I want. I work at a photography studio part time to pay for myself. I’m lucky that they agreed to pay my rent but that luck’s running out soon because they want me to come back. 

“It’s funny, though. My younger sister’s the one who wants to run this company because she’s studying business operations and loves it. She thrives in this environment and has always been interested in networking with people my parents know. I couldn’t care less about any of that. She has fun at his client parties but all I want to do is hide in a corner.”

“Why won’t they let her take over the business, then?” 

“My parents want to retire soon. They’ve been at it for so long and people are pressuring them to sell the business because everybody who knows them, knows they want out. My sister’s in her last year of university and isn’t ready to take over just yet. They say she needs more experience even though she’s interning with his division until she graduates.”

“So, what? If you take over, what’s she gonna do?” 

“Ideally, she’d be a co-owner the minute she feels ready to do it. But I think the plan for her is to become an assistant and then find another CEO role in another company. My parents don’t really understand that she and I want to switch places because they’re so focused on their retirement. We don’t know how to bargain with them and it’s become a sore point in our relationship.” 

“I’m really sorry, Sunghoon.” 

“My sister and I talk about this every time we see each other and I can tell she’s upset that they aren’t willing to wait out for her. She knows I don’t want this either, but sometimes it feels like she’s barely there whenever I’m with her.”

“It’s like knowing what you want is right in front of you but out of reach.” Sunghoon agrees in a noncommittal hum and you see him look in front of you at the other skaters. 

“I know how much she wants my position and I’d do anything to give it to her. I just need to convince my parents to wait a few years. I don’t mind helping out from time to time like I do now. But I don’t want to become CEO and work in that industry. I want to be a photographer and have my portraits hanging in museums and in people’s living rooms. Is that too much to ask for?” 

“No, it’s not. You’re so passionate when you talk about photography and it’s really endearing.” 

“You think so?” 

“Yeah, I do. It sounds like your sister is passionate about that CEO role as well. I hope the two of you are able to work things out.” 

Sunghoon sighs from beside you. “Me too. My lease is up in the new year and I’ll have to start packing if they don’t agree to wait a few more years until she’s ready. They’re afraid of bringing it outside help because they’d rather keep this in the immediate family.” The thought of knowing Sunghoon might no longer live across from you sends you into a temporary panic. You’ve just gotten to know him and it feels a bit unfair. “But I don’t want to move. I’m happy here.” 

“Are you?” 

He looks at you and smiles. “I am.” 

“I hope you’re able to stay,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact. “I think you’re fun to be around.” 

“Just fun?” Sunghoon teases, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Not charismatic and devastatingly handsome?” 

“No,” you lie, willing the cold air to cool down your warming cheeks. “I would never call you any of those things.” 

“Such a shame, Y/N. You have an incredibly hot neighbor who’s willing to do all of these Christmas things with you.” You smack his bicep. 

“You’re so annoying.” He laughs. 

“You’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.” 

***

The first time Sunghoon saw you was approximately a week after he moved into his apartment. You were wearing blue Bose headphones and looked so determined to unlock your door that Sunghoon chose to keep to himself and not bother you. He couldn’t help but notice the scowl on your face and how it made the perfect pout etch itself onto your lips. 

Ever since then, he’s seen you nearly every time he’s stepped out of his apartment and starts to wonder if this is fate telling him that he should make the first move and approach you because you’re friendly enough to nod at him when he passes you throughout the building. But he’s always been an introverted person who falters when it comes to meeting new people. Growing up around investors and adults who didn’t care about anything other than the economy didn’t do great for his confidence, especially since finance and business was the last thing he wanted to talk about. 

His sister was always more outgoing than he was. Sunghoon used to stutter when girls talked to him and couldn’t fathom the idea that anybody would be remotely interested in him enough to develop romantic feelings for him. It often felt like his personality mirrored everybody else’s for the fear of disappointing people to the point where Sunghoon had a hard time figuring out who he was when he wasn’t with his family or anybody who knew him as he grew up. 

Leaving his home to live in Seoul was something akin to a breath of fresh air. He loved his university days because it was the first and only time that Sunghoon could be himself without being afraid of what others would think of him. He experienced many ‘firsts’ while he was away from home–first college party, hangovers, and having sex for the first time. His first girlfriend made him realize he wanted more to live than to live the predestined plan that his parents set out for him. He didn’t want to marry someone into his family only for him to become a shell of a human being if he took on a job he didn’t want to do. When his girlfriend encouraged him to follow in his father’s footsteps because of how wealthy and successful he could be, Sunghoon broke it off with her and never looked back. 

Working for his parents was supposed to be a trial run. For the first three years after he graduated, Sunghoon agreed to come back and work at the company as an entry level assistant and work his way to the top. The weight of their expectations hung over his shoulders every time he stepped foot inside of the tall, intimidating building, and the anxiety he felt never really left him. Sunghoon worked himself to the bone every single day and continued dreaming of a life that was anything but his reality until his parents came to him with the proposition of slowly transitioning into an executive role. Suddenly, it felt like Sunghoon was running out of time and he proposed a year off before he would begin that process. 

Now, Sunghoon finds himself walking into your apartment with these lingering thoughts at the forefront because his parents are indirectly pressuring him to move back home. He ignores their calls and voicemails to the best of his ability. Spending time with you and your friends is a welcomed distraction because he doesn’t have to think about his future. The four of you give him space to be whoever he wants to be, and that isn’t something he’s felt in a very long time. 

“Your apartment looks like the inside of your brain,” Sunghoon tells you as he looks at your colorful furniture and the artwork decorating your walls. He lingers by the gargantuan posters of different cocktails framed neatly and the bar cart you keep by the kitchen in case you feel like having a drink or two on the weekend. “It’s so…you. 

“I worked really hard to make it that way. My Pinterest boards can tell you that much.” 

“I like that you’ve incorporated dark green. It’s pretty.” 

“Dark green is my favorite color. I’ve always wanted a space that felt like a home rather than a place I live in. I bought this green velvet couch when I got promoted the first time.” 

Sunghoon caresses the back of the couch. “Soft. I like it.”

“Do you want a drink, or anything?” 

“Are you gonna make me something festive?”

“I subjected you to ice skating and Christmas music that seemed to have four songs on shuffle the entire time. I think I’ll spare you tonight.”

“I’d like to try something new, if you’re up for it.” You light up and Sunghoon thinks he wants to make you look like that more often. He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you wash your hand and bring out every ingredient before turning to face him. 

“Have you ever heard of a hot toddy?” 

“Can’t say that I have. What is it?” 

“It’s an alcoholic drink I used to make with my friends from college when it starts to get cold. It’s whiskey, honey, and lemon dissolved in hot water.” 

“I don’t see how that’s festive,” he teases. 

“Trust the process, Park Sunghoon. First, boil water in a kettle.” 

Sunghoon watches you assemble the drink that is a bit too complicated for him but appreciated the effort you put into it. You tell him about your friends from college and how some of them have moved far away while others are people you see every once in a while. He hears about how you became a crowd pleaser during one particularly cold December night the day before finals and ended up making dozens of hot toddy’s for the people who lived on your dorm floor. You show him a picture of the makeshift tip jar your roommate made you to collect tips from students who wanted to pay you for the drink and went home with enough money to make you forget about finals. 

You tell him that your friends love this drink too, even if they downplay just how much. You hand him your phone and let him scroll through pictures you took of Heeseung and Jake the last time you made the drinks for everybody. They were hanging off of each other after begging you to add in a shot more than necessary every time you made a new cup. Jay helped you set a makeshift bed on the couch and floor for them to sleep off the alcohol and Sunghoon laughs at their less than flattering faces when you smile with two thumbs up as they pass out from the alcohol. 

Sunghoon has deduced that being here feels comfortable. It’s crazy to him that the four of you managed to weasel your way into his life as quickly as you did. He finds himself playing video games with the guys when they come home from work and they add him into their group chat within a few days of knowing him. Sunghoon’s always had a difficult time keeping friends around because he feels too awkward to socialize and feels like he never learned how to make friends around his age because of the environment he grew up in. He takes a picture of you on his camera despite your protests when he feels like words are too much.

Getting to know you has felt like the climax of a romance film. He’s spent so much time pining after you from afar, from thinking about what your favorite foods might be to what kind of music you listened to. You always looked so polished and head strong, something Sunghoon wished he could be. He’d lie to himself and say he’s attracted to you because you give off a sense of self-confidence that he’s never seen in anybody else, which is partially true, but spending time with you has only made him fall for you even harder. 

He’s only known you for a few weeks but it’s felt like he’s known you for a lifetime. Sunghoon tells you things he’s too afraid to tell other people or admit out loud. You bring out a side of him that wants to make a life for himself instead of listening to people who don’t have his best interests in mind. He loves it when you share your interest in Christmas and winter with him because it feels like he gets to know you better and it takes his mind off of his future. Plus, it helps that you look too cute when you start to get excited about things. Sunghoon can’t bear to be the reason why you would ever cease to feel like that. 

The more the two of you sip on the warm alcoholic cocktail, the more Sunghoon feels his shoulders start to relax. Whether it’s because he hasn’t eaten anything in a while or because you’re giving him butterflies, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t told anybody about you because he doesn’t know who he’d tell and he can’t believe he’s standing in your apartment making conversation with you. You laugh at his jokes and give him a tour of your place as he sips on his drink, and the warmth spreads throughout his chest. Suddenly his sweater feels too hot. 

You let him inside of your bedroom and it’s neat, with keepsakes lining your shelves and books on your walls. You’ve got a few floating bookshelves he admires and gawks at because he thinks it makes your room look that much cooler. You’ve got a few pictures of yourself, friends, and family along your desk and a makeup vanity with an impressive mirror on it. Everything in your room feels like it has a place and a reason to be there and Sunghoon can’t help but feel privileged that you’re letting him inside, like he’s supposed to be there too. 

“Is this your box of receipts?” he asks when he sees a small box without a lid on it. There are dozens of receipts haphazardly lying in there and he takes one out when you nod at him. There’s a receipt for a late night doughnut run, a printed copy of the receipt from the couch in your living room, and your first trip to the doctor. He digs to see if he can find the one from the market. “Where’s the receipt from when we went to the market?” 

You point at the board above your desk filled with pictures and other receipts too. Sunghoon looks at it and spots your handwriting and his next to a picture of you as a child. It makes his heart melt a little bit. 

“I like to keep really good memories up here.” 

Sunghoon feels like he could cry. “I’m really happy you had a fun time. I did too, but I didn’t want to come off as weird and tell you that.” 

“I don’t think it’s weird at all. If anything, I didn’t want to come off as too eager to hang out with you when we got back home.”

“Is this a good time for me to confess that I wanted to hang out with you instead of parting ways?” You look away from him to hide your smile and he can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Now you’re just buttering me up,” you say in lieu of an answer. You stand impossibly close to him while he looks at the pictures on the board. 

“You were such a cute kid.” 

“I was cuter when I wore pigtails and when I was missing my two front teeth, that’s for sure.” 

“I think you’re doing fine just now.” 

You blush again. “Okay, you’re definitely trying to make me flustered.” 

“Is it working?” Sunghoon grins when you hide your face in his arm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

“Anyway!” You pull yourself off of him and close the receipt box while he laughs behind you. “That’s enough of that.”

“It’s getting late and I think you put too much whiskey in this.” Sunghoon looks at you with another teasing grin but he’s starting to like catching you off guard like this. 

“I’m not listening to anything you say because you said it was just enough.” Even your faux pout is cute. “Thanks for going ice skating with me.”

“Thanks for making this for me.” He holds up his empty cup and you lead him to the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes for you but you decline and forcibly lead him to the front door when he starts to protest. The exhaustion from today has started to tire him out and his eyes begin to droop when he steps outside. 

“Goodnight, Sunghoon. Thank you for today.” You look up at him with an expression he can’t read. 

“I had a lot of fun. I mean it. You might change my mind about Christmas after all.” 

“There’s nothing I can’t do, Hoonie.” He blushes at the nickname. “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

He snorts. “Sure thing. I’ll be sure to text you in five seconds after I lock my door.” 

“Good. Who knows? This is a big hallway. Maybe you’d drip and fall a few steps into your journey.” Sunghoon thinks you’re too cute when you’re coy like this. 

“I’ll even text you when I’m tucked in bed so you know I made it safely.” 

The last thing he expects you to do is kiss his cheek. He feels your lips on his skin and his entire body becomes frigid, like he suddenly forgot how to breathe. Sunghoon thinks he might trip on his way back to his apartment at this rate. 

“Goodnight, Hoonie. Text me when you’re home.”

***

You don’t get the chance to spend any time with Sunghoon for the next couple of weeks because your work leaves you too tired to do anything outside of your apartment since it requires a few hours during your weekends. Sunghoon seems to understand and doesn’t push you to go out with him too much. Part of you wants to invite him over to your place for something casual, but your tendency to overthink prevents you from putting that offer on the table. 

Heeseung can tell you’re overwhelmed when he sees you. You hide yourself away in the confines of your office and don’t make conversation with him like you typically would. The start of the holidays mark a tumultuous time for you and he knows that better than anybody else. He can’t help but be a little concerned when you don’t join him for lunch like you typically do if meetings don’t interfere. When he sees you eating at your desk with a pathetic looking sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, he walks into your office without knocking and replaces his lunch with yours. 

“Don’t even think about scolding me for coming here unannounced.” Heeseung gestures at your desk. “Eat.” 

“You don’t deserve to eat a poorly made sandwich.” 

“Oh, and you do?” 

You groan. “No. But I was in a rush and forgot to pack a lunch last night.” 

“What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.” 

“My mom keeps asking me if I’m going to come home and I feel so guilty that I keep dodging it. I know she means well, but that’s what makes it worse. She keeps telling me she wants to have one weekend with me for Christmas, even if it isn’t on the actual holiday because she hasn’t seen me in a while. 

“I feel like I’m disappointing her, you know? It’s hard to leave the bubble I’ve created for myself because I know I have to face all of the bullshit I faced with my dad when I go back. It feels like I become the teenage version of myself who couldn’t express her feelings and kept everything bottled up inside. I want to forget all of that. I don’t want to be that kind of person anymore.” 

“Do you want to go?” 

“I do, but I can’t bring myself to actually buy a train ticket. I want to go home and not feel this contempt but I can’t help it. I hate it there. I hate walking through the hallways because I can hear his footsteps and the way he used to yell at me when I did something wrong. I can’t escape these feelings when winter starts. I mean, you know me. The holidays only became what it is because I try not to think about how fucking awful it used to be.” 

“You can’t run from everything forever, though.” Heeseung looks at you like he’s trying to drill his words into your head. “You’ve already done the work to push past it.”

“I know, but it’s hard to be in a place that feels like an empty home. I’m so nostalgic for everything I loved as a kid but it gets tainted when I think about my dad and how hard it was for my mom to raise me by herself. All I can think about is how I felt when I couldn’t do anything to save myself. But on the other hand, I feel so guilty for missing him too. He had his moments and I try to think about that instead of thinking about the bad ones. He’s not here to make me feel like I have to watch my back, but why does it feel like I still have to?”

“You’ve been through a lot and you have to understand that the average person doesn’t go through a lifetime of pain and trauma before they turn twenty-one. It feels like you’re stuck because there aren’t many people who can relate to you.”

You sigh. “I guess so. It feels lonely and isolating. It doesn’t matter how many times I open up to a therapist about it either. It always feels like I’m running so fast that I end up tripping over myself.” 

“So, what are you gonna do about it? Sit here and mope or make a decision?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is, though. You’re somebody who hates waiting around for people to save you. The only way to resolve anything is to pick a decision and stick with it until the end. If you regret it, at least you can say you tried.” 

“It’s really hard to self sabotage when I’m friends with you.” 

Heeseung laughs at that. “I know. I won’t let you do that either.” 

“I think I mostly feel bothersome for always talking about the same old problem to you.” 

“It doesn’t bother me. I care about you and you clearly need to talk to somebody who knows you inside and out. I’ve seen how difficult it is for you to open up and the fact that you’ve grown so close with Sunghoon in a short amount of time is incredible to me.” 

You groan and slump over your desk. “Don’t remind me. I haven’t properly seen him in weeks and feel awful that I have no energy to hang out whenever he asks me to. I hope he doesn’t think I’m ghosting him.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” Heeseung pulls out his phone and lets you glance over his texts with Sunghoon. 

“He asked if you were okay a while back and said he was worried since you kept declining to go out. His first thought was that you might’ve been sick or burned out, not that you were ghosting him.”

“Burned out is definitely the right answer.” 

Heeseung smiles at his phone. “Hoon was worried that he was coming off too strong by texting you so much. I told him you’d probably appreciate hearing from him more than giving you space.”

“Since when do you call him ‘Hoon’?”

“We’re close like that.” 

“That makes me nervous.” 

“I’ll be sure to divulge your crush on him while we hang out tonight.” You throw the cap of a pen at his chest. “He said he missed you, though.” 

“I miss him.” You groan a little too loudly for your liking. “I haven’t had any energy these last couple of weeks and I’ve been overthinking the hell out of kissing his cheek when I last saw him.”

“Sorry, you did what?!” 

“I kissed his cheek when he left my apartment and I can’t tell if I regret it or not.” 

“Dude, Sunghoon is clearly not weirded out by that,” Heeseung says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He wouldn’t be checking in with me about your mental state if he thought it was weird.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. You don’t have to do anything crazy with him either. I get the feeling he’s the type of guy who’d appreciate doing anything as long as it’s with people he enjoys being around. He’d probably enjoy it if you two stayed in and watched movies.” 

“I can do that.” You pull your phone out and search for his contact. “I could do a movie and takeout.” 

“See? There's nothing to be worried about. You’re just stressed out about going home. Take it one day at a time.”

Sunghoon agrees to have a quiet night in when the weekend approaches and you find yourself sitting in his living room instead of your own. He tells you to come over in your pajamas with your worries left at his doorstep and asks you to let him take care of everything, including ordering takeout and paying for it. He tells you he’s up for watching a Christmas movie, but you’ve had your fill and the two of you decide to watch reruns of Community on Netflix as a way to relax through laughter and comedy. 

“I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough couple of weeks,” he says as he sits next to you on the couch. He’s encouraged you to put your feet up and sit however you’d like, and crossing your legs feels like a respectable position. He sits at a short distance from you, far enough that you aren’t touching but close enough that you can feel the warmth radiate off of him. 

“It’s that time of year. Everybody wants answers but nobody is willing to put in the work. It gets like this every December because everybody’s trying to finish strong before winter break.” 

“Still though, the guys made it seem like this was an everyday occurrence for you and seeing you so tired made me worried.” Your heart skips a beat. 

“Ah, well…my friends know I can push through anything. Jay’s the one who understands me the most when I get like this. I’ve been getting better at asking for help and they know I’ll come to them if I need to.”

“What about when you don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Ask for help?”

You turn to look at him. “I guess they force me to open up until I get annoyed and tell them to leave me alone. But that usually doesn’t last very long and I cave in since they never seem to listen to me anyway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” Sunghoon takes a small handful of the popcorn sitting on the coffee table and shoves it in his mouth. “You have good friends and I can tell they love you.”

“I owe them a lot, if I’m being honest. Sometimes it feels like I don’t do enough for them.” 

“You must be a good friend if they care about you that much, too. Don’t sell yourself short.” Sunghoon seems to see you in ways you can barely see yourself and his constant reminders always leave you speechless. 

“How’ve you been? How’s your photography class and work?”

“My classes wrapped up last week. It was bittersweet. I love my instructor and I’m sad that he and I are parting ways, but he’s taught me a lot that I’ll definitely remember when I pick up a camera. Work is fine as well, it’s getting a little busy because of the holidays but it’s nothing I can’t manage. They know about the situation with my parents so we’re trying to take it as it comes.” 

“Have you resolved that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Not yet…It feels like they don’t get it at all.” 

“I’m really sorry, Hoonie.” 

“It is what it is. I’ll miss Seoul a lot for more reasons than one.” He looks at you and your heart skips another beat. 

“Living here won’t be the same without running into you, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I’ll cherish those moments forever,” he teases. “I don’t know what I’m going to do but I’m going to try to convince them to hold off on retiring for a few years. I talked to our landlord and managed to negotiate one more month when I told him about what’s happening. I have enough to pay for that and I’m a little shocked that he agreed.” 

“Must be a Christmas miracle.” He looks at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Maybe. Have you decided if you’re going back home or not?”

You pick at your fingers. “I’m still on the fence about it. She called me yesterday and slipped that question in halfway through the conversation. I can tell she’s empathetic about it, though. She knows how hard it is for me to be back home with everything that happened with my dad. Part of me wants to go because I miss her, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Train tickets are probably too expensive anyway.”

“I’ll drive you.” 

You turn to face him. “Sunghoon, it’s a two hour drive.”

“And?”

“I’m not making you drive two hours to my house and two hours back to Seoul.” He looks at you like this is the easiest decision he’s ever had to make. 

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to. This has been weighing on your mind for a long time and I don’t want you to miss out on spending the holidays with your mom just because of how much a ticket would cost to get you there.”

“Sunghoon–”

“It’s no sweat off of my back. I’m serious about it. I don’t have classes anymore and my work schedule is flexible. Plus, I think it could be cute to see where you grew up.” 

“That’s…Really sweet of you.” Sunghoon turns to look at you too and smiles with those plush lips you think about kissing a little too much. You try to reel it in because he’s your friend and that’s what friends do, right? 

“You’ve done a lot for me. The least I could do is drive you home.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t say anything. Sunghoon sees you from the corner of his eye as you turn back to face the TV, and he watches you try to hide a smile. He turns away and feels his own cheeks flush at the thought of seeing you in your hometown, even if it’s for a short while. Above all, Sunghoon wants this Christmas to feel like it’s the best one you’ve ever had on the account that you’ve made Seoul feel like home for him. 

The night progresses and you switch to a movie halfway through the night until you yawn. Sunghoon grabs a blanket and puts it over the both of you instead of suggesting you go back to your apartment. Somehow, this gesture feels kinder than anything anybody has ever done for you. 

You’re both acutely aware of how close your bodies are because of the blanket but neither of you care all that much. Your shoulder keeps bumping into his every time you move and eat the popcorn he’s provided, and Sunghoon silently wishes that he could pull your body against his once and for all. He doesn’t, choosing to savor the way your side touches him instead of doing anything that might make you uncomfortable. But somewhere in your tired stupor, you put your head on his shoulder and yawn. 

“Thank you everything,” you say quietly. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you’d drive me home.”

“I’d do anything for you.” Sunghoon says it a bit too quickly but he doesn’t regret telling you that. 

“I wish I could repay you.”

“Being here is enough. Can I try something?” 

When you nod, Sunghoon maneuvers himself so that his back rests against the arm of the couch with his body spread across the cushions without disrupting you too much. You don’t fight against him when he scoops you into his arms and places your head on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in this position. It’s slow and melodic, unlike your fantasies of hoping the cute guy next door would have a rapid heart rate every time he saw you. But you think you like this better; Sunghoon seems to be comfortable around you. 

For the fear of touching you too much, Sunghoon keeps his hands by his side and pulls them away when he realizes he’s touching your exposed skin. You let go of every thought telling you to run away and grab his arms to wrap them around your own body, nuzzling your way close to his with your eyes closed in contentment. 

In lieu of saying goodnight, you kiss his chest and Sunghoon thinks he might be on cloud nine.

***

In the time between telling your mother you’d be home for a couple of days over the weekend to arriving at her doorstep, your friends have expressed their happiness in your decision. Jake couldn’t help but feel emotional when you told him and you get the feeling that Jay always knew the decision you’d make. Heeseung chose to forego teasing you out of solidarity for this vulnerable moment and wishes you all the best. However, all three of them did not hold back in telling you every joke in the book when you told them Sunghoon was dropping you off and picking you up. 

Sunghoon drives seamlessly and you silently thank him for it because approaching the familiar quietness of your neighborhood makes you feel somewhat uneasy. Your stomach turns in flips when you see that same house you used to look up at whenever you’d come home from school. It’s still jarring to see that only your mom’s car is parked on the street with your father’s car nowhere to be seen. It’s a physical reminder that he isn’t here and you don’t know if you’re relieved or not. She greets you the moment Sunghoon parks his car and the feeling of melting into her arms is indescribable. 

“I missed you,” she whispers into your hair. “It’s been so long.”

“I know, Eomma. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’re here now and that’s all I care about. You’re Sunghoon, right?” He turns to look at you as he pulls your duffle bag out of his car and bows at a full ninety degrees for just a second too long. She finds it amusing and tells him so when he stands up. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Y/N has great things to say about you.”

“Oh, trust me. She has good things to say about you too.”

“Okay!” You clap your hands and grab the bag from Sunghoon, turning your body away from him. “I think we’ve had a long car ride and can find literally anything else to talk about.” 

“I should get going before traffic gets bad. It was nice to meet you.”

“Come in for some tea!” 

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond but he doesn’t seem to mind. Sunghoon takes off his shoes and leaves them in the corner as your mom presents the two of you with a freshly brewed pot that reminds you of your childhood. The interior looks the same as it has since you last visited and that big family portrait still hangs above the couch in the living room. Your father smiles back at you like he’s happy you’re here. 

Sunghoon chooses to remain quiet as he drinks his tea to give you and your mom some time to catch up. He feels a bit awkward in a stranger’s home when this trip was supposed to be about you and your family, but he can’t say he isn’t pleased when the warmth of the tea starts to settle in his chest. Photos of you from your childhood line the walls and he can’t help but comment about how adorable you look in pink bows and frilly dresses. You look as cute then as you do now, but that’s something he will never tell you. 

Your mom brings out a small booklet of photos from your past, too. You try to prevent her from showing Sunghoon but he laughs it off and sits with pictures of you from elementary school in his hands. He tries not to let it show that his hands are shaking because you let your chin rest on his shoulder as you peer over him. He can feel your warm breath on his neck and it sends him into a short spiral until you’re scooping up the book and handing it back to your mom with a bashful smile on your face. 

He can see that you’re trying your best not to feel like that same, awkward mess of a teenage girl when your mother tells him stories about you from childhood. She tells him about the first time you performed in a dance recital and how you were center stage only to accidentally trip on your shoelaces that nearly sent you flying into the audience. She tells him about your first overseas vacation to Disney World in Florida because it was the first time you learned you hated humidity and people who didn’t know how to drive. 

With every hour that passes by, Sunghoon starts to think he understands you better. He knows you to be somebody who’s independent and confident, but the idea that you had to work hard towards it was lost on him until he came to visit your hometown. He understands why you felt so trapped here between your mother’s rants about how difficult your dad was to the limited opportunities for you to thrive. She tells him a bit about how you were emotionally unavailable in your teenage years despite your protests (as mothers tend to do), but she finishes her thought by telling Sunghoon how she’s always thought you were destined for things greater than what a small fishing town could ever offer you. He pretends like he’s got allergies when he feels his eyes watering up. 

Sunghoon asks to stretch his legs and by the time the night approaches, he’s agreed to stay over and spend more time visiting your favorite places and where you grew up. Your mom tells him not to feel like he’s intruding, as she rarely gets to spend time with anybody in your life, and he decides that this little vacation might be good for him. He offers to pay for dinner and he thinks he’s gained some approval for that. 

Time passes by too quickly for his liking. You’ve taken him everywhere you can think of–your old ice skating rink, your favorite boba shop, the schools you’ve attended–but it still feels like he’s barely scratched the surface of getting to know you before adulthood. He loves that you’re so open about yourself in a way that he’s never been able to. You talk his ear off about drama that you haven’t thought about in decades and he listens and feels several different emotions on your behalf despite not knowing anybody you’re talking about. He parks his car in the parking lot of your high school and the two of you spend an hour eating takeout from your favorite sandwich shop and gossipping about the entire town just for the two of you to hear. 

You talk about your dad on occasion and he doesn’t pry you to talk about it either. Sunghoon hears the melancholy in your voice when you think about old memories and missing him in ways you’ve never been able to experience before. You tell him that it’s been four years since you lost yourself. You also tell him that you don’t want to live the kind of life where you’re held back by his opinion anymore. He’s here in the walls and all over town, and the weight of missing him doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. It feels like a step towards freedom to be who you are, free from the anchors that kept you sheltered. Sunghoon knows your mother must be proud of you for making this decision because he sees it in her smile when she watches you laugh.

He decides he wants this kind of life; Sunghoon wants to be supported by his family when it comes to what he wants to do with his life. He wishes his parents believed in him as much as your mother believes in you. Seeing her so open and welcoming to a complete stranger and bragging about your accomplishments to him makes Sunghoon yearn for that kind of unconditional love too. Even in the moments when you get quiet over unpleasant memories that seem to resurface from coming back home, it seems that she helps you through it and doesn’t shame you for feeling the way that you do. It’s something Sunghoon desperately wishes he could do instead of entertaining conversations about taking over his family’s business. 

If there’s one thing you’ve taught Sunghoon, it’s that he can fall as many times as he wants so long as he chooses to get back up again. He’s come to love how open you are when it comes to people and experiences because he’s starting to understand just how difficult your childhood was until you found your footing in Seoul. Being alone meant exploring who you were without the opinions of people who wanted to hold you back. Even if people gave you reasons to shun the world and expect apologies from everybody under the sun, you hold your chin up with dignity and choose to move on instead of dwelling on people and things that don't matter. He wishes he could be like that too.

“Are you happy?” 

Sunghoon stares at your ceiling in your childhood bed when he asks you that. He’s a bit surprised that he’s allowed to be here at all and offered to take the couch, but your mother said the two of you are adults and don’t need her permission. The two of you were blushing messes when she left you alone to unpack your clothes while she gave him an extra toothbrush and old clothes from her brother who left them at her place. Both of you decided that it would be too awkward to try to not cuddle on your surprisingly comfortable twin bed and he chooses to use this as an excuse to touch you. He hasn’t heard a complaint from you and the feeling of your body wrapped up in his is exhilarating.

“I am, yeah. This weekend was a lot better than I thought it would be.”

“But are you happy with your life? Are you happy with yourself?” You push yourself off his body and look down at him.

“Where’s this coming from?” 

“I kept thinking about my life and my parents for the past couple of days. Your mom’s sweet and I can tell she believes in you whenever she tells me about your life here. It sounds like she did her best to raise you between work and your dad, and I can never imagine how stressful your childhood must've been with him in the house. I see how much you’ve grown from everything. It’s inspiring.”

“I don’t know if inspiring is the right word. I think I was dealt with shitty cards and expected an apology from the world without realizing that I had to work on myself in order to receive it.”

“That’s the thing, though. I can see that you’ve put in the work to become a better person. My parents aren’t as supportive as your mom and I kept thinking to myself: ‘Do I want to go through with a life that’s already planned for me when I know I’ll be unhappy?’”

Sunghoon looks up at you when he feels you brush his hair from his eyes. He can’t really tell what you’re thinking about as you look all over his face but the gentle touch of your fingertips puts him at ease as his mind begin to race. 

“I am happy. There are moments where I feel like the world is crumbling around me, but I know tomorrow is around the corner. I used to think that there wouldn’t be people out there who would ever believe all of the things I went through, but meeting the guys and making a life for myself makes me think otherwise. I’m happier because of it.” 

“That makes me feel hopeful.”

“Does it?” 

He nods and closes his eyes when your fingertip draws an invisible pathway across his cheek and down the bridge of his nose. You get dangerously close to his lips but your hand merely cups his jaw and your simple, gentle touch is enough for Sunghoon to realize he’s fallen far too hard to give up on his future, especially if you’re in it. 

“Yes,” he says in a whisper. “You make me feel like I could do anything if I try hard enough.” 

Sunghoon stares at you like you’ve hung up every star in the galaxy for him to see. When he looks at you, everything he’s been too afraid to say comes bubbling to the surface and his life beyond today becomes as clear as day. He wants to wake up next to you every morning and listen to your childhood stories until you run out of breath. He wants to spend every Christmas with you and fill your memory box with as many receipts with his signature on it. There is no future without you in it. 

You kiss him so tenderly that Sunghoon thinks he might be imagining things. Your palm is warm to the touch and he’s quick to react, pulling your body closer to his while his arms enclose your body against him. Sunghoon doesn’t know how many nights he’s spent imagining what your lips taste like or the way you sound with his mouth on yours, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. 

He maneuvers you onto his lap because of the limited space on your twin bed and his body feels like it’s set ablaze when the back of your thighs touch his lap. You’re wearing thin shorts and an oversized shirt while he’s wearing clean basketball shorts from his car and a shirt your mom let him borrow. He feels your breasts push against his muscular chest as you lean against him for support and tilt your head to capture his mouth like you’re trying to taste all of him at once, and Sunghoon thinks he likes it when you’re desperate for him too. 

The weight of your body on his lap inevitably makes him hard and the quiet gasp into his mouth makes Sunghoon buck himself up into you. You grip onto his shoulders and dig push him back down onto the mattress to keep yourself steady and he’s about to apologize for crossing a boundary until you grind yourself onto him too. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he complies, taking it off in one fell swoop. 

“You’re really hot, you know that?” 

“Would you believe me if I told you I work out for you?”

“Not even a little bit.” Sunghoon laughs as he pulls your shirt off of your body delicately, cupping your breasts in his hands as he gives them a soft squeeze. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So perfect.” 

He’s hard underneath you, so much so that you feel him through your thin sleeping shorts. His cock is situated between your folds and every small movement you make is enough to make him feel like he’s losing his mind. Sunghoon holds your breasts in his hands as you push yourself off of his lap just to sink your weight back down. He gives your nipples a squeeze periodically and he makes a mental note when you throw your head back and moan. 

“I’m so wet,” you whisper when you sit upright, your hips continuing to grind against him. The way your voice cracks makes him feel better about being desperate to feel you. “This feels so good, Hoonie. But we can’t. My mom’s down the hall.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

Seeing you nod is enough for him. Sunghoon’s thankful your mattress isn’t loud or bumping against the wall. He temporarily pulls you off of his body to kick off his shorts and feels a bit shy when you stare at how big and hard he is through his boxers. You push your lap back down onto his and he refrains from moaning too loud, silencing himself by pulling your lips down to his by your neck. His hands wander to your ass as you feel his toned chest and abdomen too. He pushes and pulls your body over his cock and moves his lips to kiss up your jawline. 

“I wish I could fuck you properly like you deserve,” he says, leaving a wet trail of kisses on your skin. 

“I want that too.” 

“I’d worship every inch of you.” He uses his hands to press you against his lap until you bite back a moan. “I want to know what you feel like.”

“Fuck.”

“Cute.” 

He kisses your chin and wraps his arms around your lower back to keep you in place before thrusting his hips up to meet yours. Sunghoon catches you by surprise and you bite his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning too loud every time his clothed cock bumps against your clit. He’s so warm underneath you and this kind of touch is one that you’ve been craving longer than you’d like to admit. 

The passion is short lived and the two of you don’t care how quick it takes the two of you to come undone in the quiet of your bedroom. He kisses you and tries to swallow the sound of your lips smacking against one another, too afraid that one wrong move could make your mother distrust him. Sunghoon’s kisses make you dizzy but you cling onto him like he’s your lifeline until your high ebbs away, and the two of you clean up before getting a well deserved, good night’s rest. 

***

Sunghoon can barely keep his hands off of you when the two of you arrive back to your apartment. He tells you to come back to his place and have a cup of tea with him before you part ways and you agree. The entire car ride home made you feel like you might as well be living in one of your daydreams because he didn’t mind it when you pulled one of his hands from the steering wheel to hold it the entire drive back. He’d switch from holding your thigh to kissing the back of your hand every time you changed the music. The two of you sang your hearts out to pop songs from the 2000s and pretended to perform in front of an audience when dramatic ballads came on shuffle.

Things fall into place on the ride back. You decide to pursue a promotion when it opens in the new year and text your friends to tell them you’re safe and with Sunghoon. They make you promise to tell them all about this past weekend and try to get you to reveal your presents, but you refuse and include Sunghoon in all of the jokes they tell you in your group chat before they ask if he wants to be added into the main one. In every sense of the word, it felt like the two of you found a home in each other. 

He lets you change into fresh clothes and shower before you knock on his apartment. Sunghoon feels his heartbeat picking up when you show up in a tank top and shorts with no bra on, and he feels a bit like a teenage boy seeing a girl semi-naked for the first time. The two of you talk about your trip and the next festive thing you’ll do when he feels himself starting to get worked up. All Sunghoon can think about was keeping his promise to you when he made you orgasm through your panties. He wants you to know that he loves you, so he decides to tell you that when you stand up to put your mug in his sink.

“I love you. I’m telling you right now that I’d do anything you asked me to.” 

Sunghoon squeezes your hips with his fingers like he’s trying to convey what he says through his touch. His breath is warm as it fans against your lips and the heat of his apartment makes your cheeks and neck warm up from where you stand. He breathes heavily, as if his confession carries a great deal of weight to it. Every word he speaks drips with honesty and the loyalty behind it scares you. 

And yet, you can’t bring it in yourself to pull away when he kisses you. 

His soft, pillowy lips approach your own with caution. You feel him hover above you until he’s ghosting his mouth against yours as if you’re a magnet he can no longer resist. Sunghoon’s lips descend upon your own and he holds your body tightly against him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. 

You both move like two slow dancers, swaying to the silent melody only audible by those who pay close enough attention. It’s at this moment you understand why poets and romantics speak of a hidden language only two lovers know. Sunghoon’s confession strengthens the feelings you’ve harbored for him and something about the way he touches you makes you feel like you can let go of your inhibitions. He’s brought your eagerness bubbling to the surface and you find that the harder you try to ignore your love for him, the louder your heart beats inside of your chest. 

You can’t help but think about how perfectly you slot against Sunghoon when you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips the more you push into him and kisses you like he’s trying to commit the way your lips feel to memory. All of your worries melt into the floor the moment Sunghoon pulls away to look at your face under the ambient lighting and his gentle touch brushes your hair out of your face. His delicate thumbs come to cup your jawline and rub the apples of your cheeks as if you were made of something breakable. Sunghoon looks at you like this with the kind of gaze that can only be described as fondness. He looks at you with an accumulation of his feelings and desires of being wanted for who he is, not who he’s supposed to be. 

When Sunghoon looks at you, what he sees before him is a strong girl who braves the toughest weather in a tiny row boat with nothing but her wits and a single paddle. It’s your intelligence and patience that steers you away from the turbulent waters. You’re a beacon that lights a dark tunnel and deep down, Sunghoon knows that you’re his guiding light that’ll lead him home. It was your charm and passion that drew him in, and it’s your resilience and willpower that makes him want to stay. 

“I am nothing without you.” Sunghoon kisses both of your cheeks and his warm lips feel like comforting reminders that he’ll always be with you. 

“Hoonie…”

“What is it?” 

“Kiss me.” 

He does, with a slow pass at your lips while his hands cradle your cheeks in his hands and the tenderness of his touch feels something akin to puzzle pieces falling into place. The feeling is intense and overwhelming the more you drink in Sunghoon’s words to you and in this very moment, you allow yourself to believe he means what he says. Your hands find perch on his wrists as you grip onto him to anchor yourself. Sunghoon keeps kissing you as he puts one hand behind your head while the other moves to your upper back. He’s got you, even when you fall onto the mattress behind you when he dips your body backwards. 

Sunghoon hovers above your body and cages you underneath him as his warm mouth pushes against you rougher than before. He squeezes your hip until both legs are wide open enough for him to slot his body between them. It’s like he can’t get enough of the way you feel against his body because he finally has you exactly where he wants you. Sunghoon’s heart beats loudly in his chest that he feels the vibrations in his ears the more he listens to the way you two kiss, paired with your hands pushing up his shirt. Your fingernails rake down his abdomen and it leaves him a panting mess while he sucks in his stomach at the intense feeling. Sunghoon pushes a quiet moan against your mouth and you drink it up like it’s water. 

“I want to see you.” 

You whisper your incantation against his lips and the desperation in your voice enchants him. Sunghoon moves his fingertips to the hem of his shirt and briefly disconnects your mouth to pull it over his body completely before coming back down to kiss you again. He feels your hands spread across his shoulders and arms, squeezing his biceps while you moan at their firmness. They touch his chest and down to his sculpted abdomen when he jolts and he emits that same, breathy moan from before. 

Sunghoon chases your lips when you push his chest away from you and it takes two tries until he’s pulling his body back. The way you look underneath him does not compare to when he dreams of you like this. You’re breathtaking and alluring with your hair fanned out and lips wet and swollen from his kiss. He loves the way you look at him like he’s your consolation prize for befriending him all that time ago, and Sunghoon thinks he loves the feeling of you looking at his body like you’re a step from objectifying him. It feels like you’re finally taking what you want without hesitating to, like you’re not ashamed of feeling so intensely about him. That guard you keep up, the one placed there in protection against those who have the intention of abandoning you, has vanished only for him.

“Touch me.” 

His baritone command rings in your head while your hand spreads across his abdomen. Your fingers feel every hard ridge and the way he constricts his stomach underneath your touch. Sunghoon holds your hand underneath his to pull it up to his neck and guides you down his body as if he wants you to memorize what he feels like too. Somewhere between his parted lips and intense eye contact is when you realize your sanity is nowhere to be found, and it seems like he can tell because he feels the way your legs squeeze him. 

“I want you to see me too.” 

His fingers lift the hem of your shirt. “Can I take this off?”

When you nod, his fingers begin to tremble the higher the fabric travels up your body. Your skin is warm and soft underneath his tongue and he’s afraid that he’ll forget what you look like if his eyes stray from you. He pushes your top until he sees your deep green bra that hides your chest from him and pushes your back into an arch for him to unhook the fabric without much of a fuss. 

He doesn’t know where to look first. The bra is thrown haphazardly beside him and you can’t bring yourself to care about where it is on his bedroom floor. Instead, his hands cup your breasts and his fingers give a light squeeze as if to experiment with them. Sunghoon’s eyes gloss over your body and his mouth parts in astonishment the more he soaks your image in. He brings the pads of his thumbs to rub your nipples that have grown hard and sensitive since he pushed you onto the bed. 

Slowly, he descends. His warm mouth wraps around your left nipple with a tantalizing slowness that makes you feel like time is frozen around the two of you. Your heart drums in your chest at his merciful tongue that experimentally licks your nub. Sunghoon’s eyes dart up to look at you and drink in every reaction from his movements, and when he feels your chest arch into him upon sucking his mouth around your nipple, he brings his hand to the other and pinches it until you yelp. 

He flattens his tongue to lick you up before moving his head to switch to your other nipple, pressing a wet kiss to the valley between your breasts before attaching himself back onto you. The spot where his lips touched you blooms underneath your skin and sends a soft buzz all over your body. It’s hard to focus on his mouth when you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible. 

“So soft.” Sunghoon mutters in the quiet silence apart from your quiet pants and his mouth working your nipple. He grips your breasts and pushes them together as if to admire your naked chest with you watching him. 

“Hoonie—”

“I need to taste you.” He licks between both nipples and speaks as if he’s read your mind just by looking at you. “Can I? Please?” 

To be yearned like this feels like it could’ve been a blessing from above. Sunghoon looks at you with determination when you nod and you watch him sink further down your body with his hands following in his wake. In the quiet of his room, the bedsheets rustle underneath you when he beckons you to sit back against the pillows at the top of his bed. His warm and heavy breaths touch your thighs when he hooks his fingers around your shorts and pulls them down along with your panties. He hums when he pulls them off of you completely and looks directly between your legs, bringing both of his palms to feel your smooth legs until they come to grip your inner thighs. 

His electric touch is a spark you cannot seem to run away from. You feel completely frozen underneath his stare but you can’t bring yourself to shy away from his touch or sink deeper within yourself. Something about the man before you brings out the desires and needs you keep locked away, tucked inside the smallest cupboard in the back of your mind with the key long gone. But somehow, Sunghoon has paved his own way and brought you to your knees with a single kiss.

Sunghoon kisses your inner thighs, his pillowy lips leaving traces of cool spit onto your hot skin. His slow, soft pace is the kind of patience you wish for yourself. You love how kind and gentle he is when he’s with you and he never pushes you farther than your own capacity. He lets you set the tone and lead him wherever you choose to go, and his delicate touches with your body completely bare before him makes you think love and sex can be just as powerful as everyone says it is. When Sunghoon’s mouth comes to pass your core, he kisses the middle of your slit and savors the way your lap moves against him. 

“You feel so good.” He mutters against your other thigh like he’s saying a prayer. “So pliant for me.” Sunghoon nips at the juncture and smiles to himself when you gasp before returning to your mound, his left hand caressing your thigh while his other brings his thumb to knick at your hardened, aroused nub. 

“Sunghoon, I can’t…”

“Can’t what, baby?” 

“I can’t wait anymore.” When Sunghoon looks up at you, he sees the lust by the way your mouth parts just slightly ajar and how your chest rises and falls in anticipation. Who is he to deny you of your pleasure? 

Without another word, Sunghoon closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe up your folds. Your moans are like music to his ears and he swears he could bottle it up and keep it shelved for days. The way you taste covers the surface of his wet muscle and he hums right into your core the more his mouth explores your aroused hole, poking the tip inside of you with every other swipe of his tongue just to tease you. 

“Ah, ahh!” Sunghoon loves hearing the way you whine underneath him and moans in appreciation when you roll your hips against his face because of him. It motivates him to move his head against you too, angling his face to lick every every single part of you. 

Your hands find themselves gripping your naked breasts in an attempt to ground yourself as your chest becomes one with the ceiling the more you arch your back. Sunghoon’s hands come to hold your waist and keep your legs spread before him before you can even think about falling back onto the bed. His touch is magnetic and you don’t think you’ve ever been so desperate to be touched by anyone before him. 

He lets your body fall and decides to give your legs a break since they’ve been spread out for him for so long. Your hips thank him when he lifts them both into the air and temporarily separates himself from your core to look at you like this. Sunghoon rises to kneel before you and his saliva leaves a string of spit when he detaches from your swollen folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty.” Sunghoon stares intently at your glistening core and he’s mesmerized by the way you clench at his praise. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs your sensitive nub and smears your wetness around your folds, his other hand holding your legs up for you. “I can’t believe you deprived me of it for so long. 

“I wanna cum,” you moan selfishly when he sticks two of his fingers inside. Your smooth walls engulf his digits and your arousal splashes around the more he pumps them in and out of you. 

“My baby wants to cum?” he asks rhetorically, thrusting his fingers rapidly while your hands come to steady your legs in the air the way he’s been holding you. “You deserve to cum, baby. Let me make you feel good. Shit, yeah, squeeze my fingers just like that.”

“I-I can’t hold it!” 

“Cum right now or I’ll stop fucking you.”

As if a dam’s protective guard had shattered into a million pieces, Sunghoon’s command tips you over the edge and you release around his fingers. Your mind feels dizzy with the nonstop pleasure he’s been giving you and the way his fingers reach the deepest parts within you the more he angles himself on top of your body. His soft praises of a job well done sink into your chest the more he speaks. The sight of his toned biceps moving with every pass of your pussy makes you clench and push your orgasm out around his fingers. Sunghoon smiles wickedly at your mound the more you cream around his fingers and only stops pumping himself when your pussy squeezes him out. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps them around his digits. 

“Mm,” he hums, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders drop. You peek at his lap and see his fully hardened cock tenting in his pants. The impressive size stares back at you like it’s daring you to take a peek. Sunghoon licks his fingers clean and catches you staring at his dick when he opens his eyes, but your lustful gaze only fuels his arousal. He leaks in his boxers and feels the precum soak the fabric. 

“You taste so fucking good.”

“Really?” Sunghoon grips your legs gently and settles them back down onto the mattress, soothing your sore thighs with his palms as he lightly massages your skin. He bends down to lick you one more time.

“Best pussy I’ve ever tasted. I could die between your legs.” 

“Sunghoon.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

He watches your hole when he pulls his pants and boxers down below his balls until his cock springs out and bounces in your presence. He’s big and girthy, just like you’d imagined the first time you saw the outline of his dick in his pants one morning. Sunghoon wraps his palm around his length and gives himself an experimental squeeze, hissing at the warm contact before tilting his head to spit on the head before stroking himself. The wet sound makes your core jolt in excitement. He watches you looking at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth with an expression so determined that it makes him laugh from above you. 

“Eager for me?” You look up but you don’t answer him. “I’m always so fucking hard for you but I didn’t want to scare you away. You wore this long black dress that made your body look like sin a while back. I think about what your ass looked like in that dress from time to time.” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I haven’t worn that dress in so long…that was before we met.”

“Yeah,” he confesses, twisting his wrist against himself before pinching the tip. “Thought you were cute back then.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He stops stroking himself and kicks off the rest of his clothing before settling back between your stomach and cups your jawline with his hand. The way he looks at you is pure and nearly cliché, like the two of you might as well be the lead roles in a romance film. His warm, brown eyes bore into yours and you can’t say you don’t love it when he looks at you like this. 

“I didn’t want to get too attached to anything or anyone because I knew I had to go back home. I kept telling myself I wouldn’t do anything unless something gave me a reason to talk to you, and then we ran into each other with Jake’s ugly sweater.” 

You cheeks head up. “I forgot about that.” 

He kisses your lips once. “You looked so cute in it.”

“I look atrocious, Hoonie. It’s okay, it’s called an ugly sweater for a reason.”

“You could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable.” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch, but I appreciate your faith in me.” Sunghoon kisses the tip of your nose. When he moves, you feel his bare cock resting against your folds and push your hips to meet him. His cock slots between them and Sunghoon hums when you grind against him, holding one of your hips steady. 

“Make me wet, baby.” Sunghoon kisses your jawline and his wet lips leave a cool trail on your skin the more you grind against him. “Make my cock wet enough to fuck you.” 

“Shit, shit…”

“Feels good, yeah?”

“So good,” you whisper. He kisses just beneath your earlobe and puckers his lips until he sucks the skin underneath. The tip of his cock catches your clit with every other pass and Sunghoon drinks up your moans like it’s water. 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and let me stick it in, right? You want my cock just as badly as I want your pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking good at this.” He chuckles and his warm breath against your ear makes you shiver.

“Good at what, babe?”

“Talking. Touching me, fuck…everything.”

He drags his nose across your neck to the other side. “You deserve to feel good. You’ve been running around all over Seoul with no one to take care of you but me.” 

“Can’t believe I want you this much.” Without disrupting the position, Sunghoon reaches between your bodies and angles his cock until it breaches your hole with just his tip. It pulls a gasp out of you and Sunghoon lifts his head to watch your face morph in pleasure with your mouth open slightly ajar and eyes almost squinting in disbelief. 

“You don't even know the half of it. I want all of you all the time.” He pushes another inch inside of you. “I want to mold your pussy to the shape of my cock to the point that nobody else can fuck you as good as I can.” 

You grip onto his biceps. “F-Fuck.”

“I want to be the only person you look for. I don’t care how long it takes me to come back, but I’m not leaving you behind. I want you. Only you.” 

The feeling you get when you’re with him makes your chest feel tight with love and admiration the more Sunghoon looks at you like you’re the object of his affection, as if you’re something he cannot live without. You didn’t know that love could feel like an accumulation of every happy memory replaying in your head simultaneously. This newfound overwhelming sensation makes you feel like there isn’t anything you can’t face, as long as you face them with Sunghoon. 

He, on the other hand, finally understands why people talk about finding a home within another person. He’d never given second thought to romance when he knew that his life was planned out for him since he was born and never once thought that he’d get to make decisions on his own about his feelings when his entire livelihood is surrounded by order and duty. But here you are, lying so beautiful underneath him like a mosaic built from colorful stained glass with the sun peeking through it. You look like a dream with your face so pretty the more he pushes into you until he’s buried himself to his full capacity. 

Neither of you have ever had sex like this, so pure and raw with your bodies in tune with one another. It feels like the two of you exist beyond space and time with the way your breathing intensifies the more Sunghoon pulls out from you just to push right back inside. The intensity that permeates around his bedroom makes your breath run short and it fuels Sunghoon to keep a slow and steady rhythm, allowing his cock to reach the deepest parts within you without pushing you too fast. The whole affair is erotic and what can only be described as lovemaking. Sunghoon watches your eyes squeeze shut below him and brings a hand to push the stray hair away from your face. He thinks the two of you must’ve been fated in every universe for him to find, because there is not a single person he could ever imagine loving more than you. 

“I’ll fuck you every single day if you let me,” Sunghoon mutters against your neck. He pulls his body up and places both palms on either side of your body before rolling his hips back. The new angle pushes him in a way that makes you moan loudly. 

“Fuck, Sunghoon.” 

“My baby’s so fucking pretty when she’s filled with my cock. Do you love this as much as I do?” 

“Yes!”

“Do you love me as much as I love you?”

You don’t hesitate to answer him. 

“I love you. I want you here forever.” 

“I can give you forever. I swear on it.” 

He pistons his hips until the audible sound of his pelvis smacking against yours becomes the loudest sound in the room. His balls slap against your ass when you wrap your legs around his waist until he drops to his elbows to catch you and squeeze your body when you clench around him. He tucks himself into your neck and his forehead feels warm and sweaty to the touch, but you can’t say that you don’t love how much he’s putting his body–and yours–through the ringer just to make you cum as many times as he possibly can. 

None of this feels real. Sunghoon might as well be a figment of your imagination because it seemed impossible for sex to feel as good as he’s making you feel. All of your concerns about the future don’t exist when he’s bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm. He, too, pushes all of his unwanted thoughts away in favor of helping you chase your release. Sunghoon’s determined to show you just how much he loves you by any means possible, and if his words of conviction won’t do him justice, he hopes his body will. 

It’s uncanny the way you feel completely safe around Sunghoon, when no one else has ever made you close to feeling the way you do with you. You’re able to break right before his very eyes and pick yourself off of the floor without feeling ashamed to have insecure and unwanted feelings about love and your attitude surrounding happenstances. You live your life based on the principle that everything happens for a reason and that people come and go but lessons will always stick with you. The people who live as ghosts in your past serve as reminders of painful memories and people who were never supposed to be here for very long, and you pray to the Heavens that Sunghoon is somebody meant to be in your life until forever comes to an end. 

Sunghoon holds himself off until he feels you unravel around him by the way you cling onto his body and clench around his cock. He brings his lips to yours and roughly pushes against your swollen ones when he feels you coming undone and allows himself to follow your lead. His cum fills you with thick, white ropes and oozes out from around him when your pussy can’t hold it in anymore. Sunghoon slows his pace down the more you try to catch your breath in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm without overwhelming you too much. The squelches keep him semi-hard and your lips taste exactly like his favorite memory. 

“My good girl,” he whispers. “So sexy when you cum.” 

“You’re one to talk. You look like fucking Adonis right now.” 

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your forehead. “You flatter me too much.” 

“Nuh uh. I’m telling you the truth. It’s a little unfair how you always look so good, even when you aren’t trying.” 

“You’re one to talk.” He kisses your lips. “You always look so…cute.”

“Just cute?” 

“Pretty, too.” 

“Only pretty?” Sungoon smacks your outer thigh. 

“You are very beautiful and I’m enamored with you.” 

That makes you blush. “Hoon.” 

“What? Can’t a guy proclaim his love anymore?” 

Sunghoon’s body is warm against yours and he looks down at you with a fond smile in a way you always hoped somebody would. His dark eyes feel warm from above you and something about the way he’s watching you doesn’t make you feel observed. Rather, you feel a blooming warmth within your chest and nuzzle into his touch when he brings his hand to cup your face and rub the apple of your cheek. Sunghoon is gentle with his touch and you find it unbelievable that he’s managed to squeeze his way into your comfort zone as successfully as he had. You love his touch. You crave it, even.

His smile widens when you kiss the underside of his hand with a sweet peck and tilts his head in amusement. You feel bashful when Sunghoon looks at you like this because it feels reminiscent of having a crush in your childhood years, but with him, you can’t find that you dislike the way that you feel. His palm is warm and comforting, especially after spending so much time putting your body through physical rigor in ways you’ve never experienced. His strength never ceases to impress you and the nights you’ve spent picturing yourself underneath him suddenly have merit to them now. 

You find yourself breaking your own character when you lift your head up to push Sunghoon’s lips against yours and his response is immediate. Sunghoon’s plush lips melt right into yours and he slots himself against you like he was always supposed to be there, letting your head lie against the bed while his arm holds your waist. Everything about Sunghoon makes you wonder if love is supposed to feel like a quiet hug amidst a rainstorm, or if it’s supposed to feel like the crescendo in a brilliant symphonic masterpiece. Perhaps it’s a combination of both or none at all. These deep feelings you have for him have never been brought out by anyone before him. 

Sunghoon must know what you’re thinking because his hand travels up your body and back to your hair, gently scraping your scalp with his blunt fingertips. It feels so good to be loved and doted on like this without feeling like you don’t deserve to find an ounce of happiness with somebody who tells you they love you. Years of running away from the feeling of a comfortable embrace melts away with every second that passes with your lips on Sunghoon’s. He feels like every bit of home you’ve spent your whole life yearning for. 

“What are you thinking about?” His question pulls you out of your thoughts and you can’t find it in you to lie to him. 

“Is it selfish that I want you to stay?” 

“No, it’s not. I don’t want to leave Seoul either. I don’t want to leave you.”

“It feels like I just got you but now I have to let you go.”

He kisses you. “You don’t have to let me go. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince my parents to let me live the life that I want. Our trip to your hometown made me realize there’s more to life than people’s expectations of me.”  

You bottom lip quivers. “I’m scared that they won’t budge and that you’ll leave. I’m scared that you’re going to move on and leave me here thinking about you.” 

“I’d never.” He shakes his head like it’s a fact. “I could never forget you. I would never even think about moving on from you. I’m scared that somebody’s gonna snatch you up when I’m away.” 

“I’m really in love with you, unfortunately.” Sunghoon nips at your lip and cherishes the way you laugh. He looks away from you for a split second but the soothing touch of his hand feels comforting. He watches you frown for a minute. “I didn’t get you a present.”

“Baby, you’re my present.”

“That was really corny.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He kisses you once more. “You’re too important for me to give up. I don’t want to let you go.” 

Somehow, you know he’s telling the truth. 

“Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”

“You have to ask.”

“Can I be your boyfriend?” 

You silence him with a kiss and when he feels you smiling against him, he has his answer. 

****

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[defmaybe]

A Romantic and Incomplete Guide to Tokyo

12 Days of Christmas: Day 8, January 1st, 2025

STAYC’s Yoon Seeun x Male Reader

3.7k words

Christmas Masterlist

The chilly air courses through your body inside Narita—thought it’d be warmer inside the building. You rub your hands, seeking just a tiny amount of warmth. Fuck, how cold is it?

The weather app shows a single digit temperature. Even the three-layer clothing you’re wearing doesn’t help, really.

Fuck.

“So, we’ll match you into pairs. For those who are already in a group–” you can’t quite focus on what the guides are saying. You’ve barely slept on the plane. The cabin croaked and cried all the way. God, it’s going to be another bad first day.

You’re too focused on your predicament to hear the voice of a woman beside you.

“Hey.”

Fuck, this place is cold.

“Hey.” Her voice is finally processed by your mind with a tap on your shoulder. You’re jolted out of your trance. Beside you is a somewhat tall (well, as tall as you), smiling woman. She doesn’t seem to be that much of a talkative person, judging from how she fully buttons her coat. You can handle that. 

Her eyes are gorgeous. It’s a pair that might hypnotize you somewhere along the trip. Her face is more on the wider side. She looks beautiful nonetheless. Fuck, you forgot to say something. Did you just stare at her like that? Good grief, first day and it’s over for you!

“Yeah, I get it. I didn’t sleep last night either,” she says with a chuckle. What a relief.

You blink to refresh yourself from the fatigue. “Y–Yeah, hi!”

You tell her your name. She tells you her name—Seeun. She tells you that people often misread her name as See-un, which is funny because she happens to have a friend named Sieun. Both of you are from the same city, though you two have probably never met each other.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m in the entertainment industry,” she answers with a shy smile.

With a face like that, yeah, she probably is.

—

“Definitely, Maybe.”

“What, did you watch it at fourteen or something?” Seeun asks with a chuckle. “I thought it was like–a three-star movie.”

“Yeah.”

“I see.”

The two of you are treading aimlessly inside Tower Records (the Shibuya one), trying to find a few albums to take back to your homes. You’ve picked up a few. She has picked up a few.

“That feels a bit–condescending,” you say with a forced smile, a little disheartened. Come on, Seeun, you don’t have to be so rude!

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I mean–mine’s not much better either,” she apologizes, guilt looming in her voice.

“What is it?”

“The Last Jedi.”

You halt your movements, shocked by her answer. Sure, The Last Jedi still have a lot of supporters, but you didn’t expect her to be one of them.

“Really?”

She stops walking along with you, doubling down on her answer. “Yeah.”

“That’s brave,” you say.

She chuckles. “What? Are you going to say that I’m tasteless or something?” She walks past your face to pick up Good Riddance. You also have one back at your home from your trip a few years ago, the deluxe one.

“I gave it four and a half stars,” you reply. That’ll definitely impress her.

“That’s cool,” she says, eyes still focused on the album. Her expression seems happier, though. “What do you like about it?”

You lean in closer to Seeun to look at the back of the album with her. It’s the deluxe version, sixteen songs. If she wants to buy one, this should be it. “I love a movie with a vision.”

A smile escapes Seeun’s lips. She’s clearly impressed by your answer. “Says the one who has a two-thousands romance as their favorite,” she playfully teases.

“Fourteen is a crucial age in human development,” you scoff. “What did you watch back then?”

“Award winners,” she says, putting Good Riddance on top of a stack of Souvlaki, Pet Grief, Charm, and a few more albums you’ve never quite heard of. Unlock My World? Titanic Rising? 

“I had a lot of free time during the summer before my ninth–or tenth grade, so I kinda just watched whatever was in the award-winner section on Netflix.”

She counts the stack. It’s at six albums, for now. “But yeah, I particularly love The Last Jedi because Rian did what Jeffrey didn’t, or wasn’t brave enough to. Star Wars can be too safe a lot of times.” She continues walking into the G aisle, and you have to catch up with her.

“I get that,” you say, glancing around for potential candidates for your stack, nothing as of now. “So, just The Last Jedi, or–”

“Steel Magnolias,” she cuts you off sternly, confidently. You’re not surprised (both with the choice and how she cut you off). They really scream her.

“That feels more like you.”

A small laugh escapes her lips. 

“You could’ve just asked for my Letterboxd, you know?”

—

The ramen shop is filled with tour group members. No loud chattering, of course. The tour guide explicitly asked for that. It might disturb the other visitors.

You and Seeun are sitting with two other fellow travelers. The two of you are too shy to say a thing, though, so you just let Yeonjun and Miyeon shoot questions at you for the whole dinner. These two look so damn good. It’s as if they’re idols or something.

You learned about Seeun a little more. She has a younger brother. She was raised in Pyeongtaek. She has two cats at her parents’. You notice the way she keeps scrunching her nose. She looks so cute doing so.

She seems to love Shoyu ramen, but judging from a single order doesn’t seem fair. She eats with her mouth closed; that’s a good sign. Her mannerisms are just too perfect for a person. Her time in the industry probably teaches her a lot of this.

You trade contacts with Yeonjun and Miyeon as you finish the meal. It seems that they really are idols, after all.

“Maybe we can meet again soon? Like–after the trip,” Yeonjun asks.

Miyeon laughs softly, “You’ll have to be a bit conservative with your clothes, though. We don’t want any attention on us.”

“Sure,” you answer, and that’s a date.

—

“So, how about we keep switching every day? Four nights, that should be two for each.”

In front of you is a double bed.

A double bed.

You cannot fathom the idea of sleeping next to a person who you've known barely a day. It’s going to be awkward. You cannot do this!

“Y–You said you work in the entertainment industry, right?” You can’t risk her back just for your own comfort. Don’t be an asshole! Help her!

“Yeah, and?” she makes a slightly puzzled expression.

“Well, I don’t want your back to–”

“Do you know you can just ask them for a cushion?”

“Oh,” you utter. That was embarrassing.

“I’m not going to be a snobby bitch over a bed, you know?” she says with a giggle.

—

You cannot sleep that well last night, even with the cushion. Now, you’re walking along a road in Harajuku, a little fatigued, a little tired.

You take in the atmosphere around you, trying to inhale some clean fresh air. The trees are more than abundant. What an atmosphere. It feels so cozy, so comfortable. God, you just wish you could live here forever.

Seeun seems to notice the exhaustion that’s creeping up on you, though.

“Good sleep?” she asks, trying to gauge your current state. You’re tired, of course, but you can’t let her know that.

“Y–Yeah.” Well, the stutter in your voice is evident. That’s bad.

She chuckles, patting your back softly. Your body shudders at her apparently friendly touch.

“Well, it’s my turn tonight.”

The two of you trod along the streets of Harajuku. You take a few pictures. She takes a few pictures.

—

Well, you’re feeling a little guilty now. The bed is just feeling too comfy. Seeun is probably hurting her back down there.

You keep shifting and turning on your bed, unable to sleep. A lot is going through your head right now.

“Seeun?”

No answer.

“Seeun?”

Still no answer.

You lean your head over the edge, only to find Seeun already in slumber. A small smile is painted on her face. It’s probably a good dream.

You should just let her sleep.

—

“So.”

It’s Yokohama day. You’re sitting at a Starbucks under some tower, while the others seem to be enjoying themselves somewhere else. The chilly wind blows on your face.

“How about we–uh,” you pause, trying to gather the courage to say the next words.

“You’re making it look like it’s something bad,” she says, chuckling. A cup of hot latte rests in her hand idly.

“I’d argue that it’s pretty weird.”

“And I’d argue that I won’t be mad at you, like–how bad can it be?”

You take a deep breath, gathering the courage to say the next words.

“Can we–Can we just–sleep on the bed together?” you ask, avoiding her eyes. The last few words come out a bit too fast, but you believe that the message was delivered, nonetheless.

She lets out a smile. “Sure, why not?”

You do a double take. You’re shocked that she’d say yes to it as easily as that. “That was easy.”

“My back fucking hurts.” And you two let out a laugh together.

—

She smells good.

It’s already one in the morning, but you’re still shaking in the dripping anxiety of sleeping next to her. And with that smell. You just can’t sleep.

Fucking hell.

“Seeun.”

“Yeah?” she answers immediately. God, hasn’t she slept yet?

“What perfume do you use?” And you hear a giggle come from your side.

“Dior’s Sakura,” she says.

“Can I–uh–see it?” you ask.

She grabs the bottle. You’re expecting her to hand you that, but suddenly, she sprays it on her wrist.

“Wh–Wha–”

She gives you her wrist, and the smell reaches your nose before you can say a word. You close your eyes. It’s so intense, yet so fresh, like spring.

“O–Oh.”

“How was it?” she asks with a giggle.

“It was–uh–pretty good.”

Seeun bursts out a laugh. “Come on, it’s definitely better than pretty good. Like–look at your face!”

It’s definitely better than pretty good. “Y–Yeah, it’s–heavenly, Seeun.”

“You want some more? C’mon, grab my arm. It’s yours,” she invites you, and to be honest, there has never been any arm you’d want to take in its scent more than Seeun’s.

With your instinct, you pull Seeun’s right arm closer to your nose, before taking a deep breath full of her scent, eyes closed. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that you’re in heaven right now.

You hear Seeun laughing from the left. It’s a bit weird to sniff a woman’s arm like this, really, but you couldn’t care less right now.

“I don’t think you should stop just there, baby,” she suddenly blurts out.

The word spurs you on. You immediately go over Seeun’s body to have her below you, all smiling and blushing. She’s avoiding your gaze. She’s shy, but she wants this. She’s craving for this, and so are you.

“What should I do with you, Miss Yoon?” you tease her, drawing a line in the middle of her chest with your index finger, making her keen softly.

“A–Anything, baby. I need you–right now.”

You immediately latch your lips with hers, invading her mouth aggressively. She tastes like strawberry. The wet sound of kissing rings over your ear.

“So–So good,” she mutters into the blazing kiss. Her hands quickly pull down your pants, revealing your throbbing cock underneath. She then starts jerking you off with her filthy hand. She wants to milk you dry as quickly as possible.

You pull back from the kiss. A string of saliva connecting your lips is evident. That looks so fucking hot. Below, she’s still rubbing your cock up and down, making your whole body shiver in pleasure.

“M–My god, Seeun,” you groan.

She only chuckles, before drawing her hand back, leaving you whining in the absence of her.

“Can’t have you cum outside of me, baby,” she whispers, unbuttoning her top. Her beautiful cleavage comes into view. Her nipples sit just around the edge of her shirt. You quickly swathe her shirt away, revealing her hard, dusky nipples. She’s ready for you.

Immediately, you latch your needy mouth onto her buds. The mixture of the salty taste of her sweat and her scent of spring are mixed into an aphrodisiac. Her raw, unfiltered moans fill your ears.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” she mewls. Her hands pressing your head onto her breasts. God, what a feeling.

You lavish her tits, hands trying to get rid of her shirt. She lifts herself up from the bed slightly to give way, and finally, the obstructing shirt leaves her taut body, exposing her upper body in all glory for you.

Still, it’s not enough. You need more. You need more. Your mouth travels down her toned tummy, making her moan is pure pleasure. Finally, you reach the edge of her pants, and you slowly, so, so slowly, pull them down, exposing her wanton cunt. Fuck, she’s already wet.

“Nghhh~” Seeun groans, a hand reaching down to rub her drenched folds by the sensitive nub. Her body jolts as she touches there. She’s moaning, and you can only watch.

“Goddamn it, Seeun. Thought you need me,” you utter.

Seeun giggles through her moan. “I–I’m waiting. J–Just need something i–inside me.”

Hastily, you unbutton your shirt, making you bare above her wanting body, before throwing the shirt to god knows where. You’re so ready to fuck her with your cock.

“Ah–will you just–ah–p–put it inside me already?” Seeun mewls, hand busy rubbing her cunt.

With sheer force, you flip Seeun so that she’s above you. You’re going to have her ride you until you’re dry.

“M–My god, you’re gonna have me do all the work?” she asks, her hands resting on your chest, almost clawing your skin.

“I–Is that okay?”

“Mmm, only if you cum inside me,” she answers sultrily, biting her finger.

You smile, lining up your cock against her pussy. She slowly sinks down, and–

“Ah!” the two of you moan in unison.

The feeling of Seeun on your cock is unreal. Her walls graze your cock, making you moan erratically. She ever so slowly sinks down on your cock, making you watch yourself disappear into her. Fuck.

She pushes her cunt down until you’re buried up to the hilt. You then languidly draw your cock out of her, before you thrust straight back into her pussy.

“Fuck!” she cries out.

You catch your tempo, starting to move in a steady rhythm into her needy pussy. Both of you groan in pure pleasure. God, this feels so fucking good.

“D–Do you know STAYC?” Seeun asks, trying to catch the rhythm of the debauchery.

STAYC, Star to a Young Culture. You’ve heard of them. A few hits have passed your ear. SO BAD, STEREOTYPE, Bubble. A pretty decent group, you’d say.

“Y–Yeah, have heard a few songs,” you reply, unsure where this conversation would go. She’s still moving up and down on your cock majestically. Her breasts sway with the movement. She’s beautiful. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy only brings pleasure to you.

“Well–” she grabs onto your shoulders, leaning in closer “–I’m one of them.”

What the fuck?

You shoot a confused expression towards her, before slowly turning into a laugh. “Ha–r–really?”

“Didn’t g–get this abs and thighs by a miracle,” she answers. Yeah, she does look good.

“Goddamn,” you exclaim, still shocked by the revelation. She’s an idol, a pretty popular one. “Well, it’s an honor to be engaging in a coitus with you, Miss Yoon.”

She bursts out a loud laugh. Her back arches. Coitus is the funniest word you could think of, and that seems to work on her. “Oh my god, coitus? What the fuck was that?”

You cannot help but to laugh along with her. “Ha–sorry, d–didn’t mean to.”

“I–If I can’t cum because of this–I’m gonna be pissed,” she says, chuckling.

You touch her thighs, trying to feel her approaching orgasm, and it’s there. She’s tensing up. “Looks like my words have no effect, Miss Yoon,” you tease.

“You’re lucky today,” she happily replies, poking your nose softly, as she keeps bouncing on your length. 

You keep thrusting your hips up to meet her thighs in the middle. Don’t want her to do all the work, after all. The wet sounds of your fleshes smacking into each other echoes through the room. The smell of your perfumes and sex are mixing into a concoction. It’s an aphrodisiac that only serves to drive you insane.

“G–God, you smell so good, Seeun,” you involuntarily utter, so lost in her scent of spring.

“T–Told ya, Dior’s Sakura f–for a Japan trip,” she says, voice almost moaning.

Your thrusting goes on, but the scent is just too hard to ignore. It’s making you crazy. You need her. You need her smell. Suddenly, you pull Seeun down towards you. She yelps in shock, before you take in the scent of the crook of her neck. Fuck, she smells like spring—so fresh, so clean. It’s so lively.

“Wh–What a freak,” she scoffs, but you’re sure that she’s enjoying this, judging by her moan.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply with a giggle, still inhaling her lively scent, pressing your lips on her neck from time to time. She tastes as good as she smells.

“G–God, you’re making me cum, baby,” she utters, grinding on your cock in an even more frantic motion. Her breathing becomes more erratic and seconds go by.

You pull back from her neck to roam over to her soft breasts above you. They feel so good in your hands. She cries out in the overstimulation you’re giving her—your hands on her chest, your cock digging into her dripping wet pussy. It’s heaven to her.

“Nghhh~ gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cu–ah!”

Her entire body becomes rigid. A stream of her squirt leaks out of her already-drenched cunt. Her eyes flutter in ecstasy. Her walls contract around your cock. Her back arches, showing her nude body in all glory for you. Her moan hits high notes. God, she has a wonderful voice.

You properly fuck her through her seemingly-neverending peak. You keep pounding into her pussy with reckless abandon as her body spasms above you. Her pleasure-infused moan grows shakier at the overstimulation. Her body then falls on top of you, locking you in a tight embrace.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god. Y–Your cock is so f–fucking good!” she shouts, spurring you on even more. Your pace quickens, plowing into her spent cunt erratically, so determined to fill her with your cum.

The familiar tension coils inside your stomach. You’re ready to fill her up. You’re ready to paint her insides white. You’re ready to breed her. You’re ready to reach the precipice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” you grunt, thrusting into her pussy frantically. Her body limps on top of you, simply without energy to move anymore.

“N–Need you–b–breed me,” she whimpers, eyes barely opening, body getting ragdolled by your motions.

With any remaining energy, you’re so determined to fully breed her with your cum. You pound her pussy with your thrusts, chasing your own orgasm. It’s there. It’s right fucking there.

“Fuck!”

You reach your breaking point. Your entire body shudders at the peak. Your cock shoots cum into her wanton, needy pussy, filling her womb with your nectar. A guttural groan leaves your lips. You’re taking full pleasure in fucking her wanting body. Fuck, it feels so good.

You slowly come down from your orgasm. Your breathing finds its rhythm again, panting for air. Your hands cling to her body tightly, not wanting her to leave you. Both of you are blushing under this Tokyo moon, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are—under her, inside her.

“That–That was f–fucking good, b–baby,” she utters, stuttered. Her hands are caressing your flushing body, feeling every curve and contour.

“Y–You are too, baby,” you say, still trying to catch your breath under the gleaming moonlight. “Fuck.”

Seeun softly chuckles, slowly dragging herself off your cock. Your groan as her walls are grazing your sensitive cock. It almost hurts, but finally, you’re out of her wet cunt.

“I–I’ll go to the b–bathroom,” she whimpers before getting off the bed, limping towards the bathroom to wash your filths out. Your juices can be seen dripping down her meaty thighs, what a lewd sight.

As she enters the bathroom, you lie back down on your bed—tired, spent, waiting for her to come back. You think about what just happened with Yoon Seeun on this bed. You kissed her. You sucked on her breasts. You pounded her pussy with reckless abandon, then shot spurts of cum inside her. God, could tonight get any better?

“Babe!” Seeun shouts from inside the bathroom.

You lazily get up from the bed, thinking of what she could possibly want. You walk towards the door before opening it.

The sight of Yoon Seeun seductively biting her finger greets you. She’s leaning on the sink. Her breasts are resting on her chest gorgeously. Your cum is still dripping down from her used pussy, and you figure it out.

She wants another round.

“S–Seeun,” you say, leaning tiredly against the door. You don’t have the energy to go on anymore. You just want to sleep already.

Seeun giggles before walking towards you. There’s the sway of her hips. There’s the way she bites her finger. There’s the way she puts one leg in front of the other every step. And before you know, your cock is hard again.

You can go for another round.

She pulls her finger out of her mouth, biting her lip sultrily. She then plunges her bitten finger into your mouth, making you suck on it the same way you suck her tits. A chuckle escapes her lips.

“Think you can handle me again, baby?”

With her finger inside your mouth, you can do nothing but nod.

—

[thetriumphantpanda]

i saw mommy kissing santa claus | joel miller

Summary | Your daughter catches you kissing santa... or does she?

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | Mentions of traditional Christmas (A tree, gift giving ect), Joel dressed as Santa, Joel being a daddy again, Joel AS A HUSBAND, smut but not super explicit - oral sex (f) and unprotected PiV, just general fluff really.

Authors note | Firstly, I have to give a huge shoutout to @wildemaven - the Dave York piece she posted recently definitely inspired this little Drabble, along with being stuck in a car with my bestie for three hours with the Christmas radio blaring. This is just some sweet Christmas fluff for us all!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

amazing divider by @saradika

The way the snow flurries fall outside are still a wonder to you, even after seven years of winters in Jackson. The warmth you remember from Christmas before the end of the world is a distant memory now, the open windows and the light breeze of December now replaced with the biting cold and the four layers you must wear inside your home to keep as warm as possible. It’s magical though, the way it looks picture perfect, just like the movies you would watch back then. If you could, you’d take a photo of it, use it as the family Christmas card.

Turning around from the window, the room is bathed in the orange glow from the fire you set a few hours earlier. The lamp, on Joel’s side of the couch is also helping, as are the frosty lights wrapped haphazardly around the tree, in making it feel normal. Because really it is. This has been your life for the past five years, putting up a tree, setting small gifts under it like you always had before all of this. The three stockings set above the fireplace, ready to be filled in the next few hours – the precursor of joy the following morning.

Sofia had thankfully gone to bed with little fuss tonight. Finally old enough to understand that the earlier she went to sleep, the earlier she could wake up to find out if Santa had paid her a visit. She hadn’t been planned, but then when were children ever a plan in this new world? You’d been scared, Joel had been terrified, but in the end, she had been the most wonderful thing to happen to the both of you.

You settle on the couch, letting the warmth from the fire soothe the aches that the cold now settles across your bones. You’re almost able to fall asleep, when, with clockwork timing, Joel tears open the front door, a flurry of snow and cold following him in as he closes it behind him. You struggled to stifle a giggle as you turn to look at him.

Dressed head to toe in a Santa costume that is far too big for him, not enough time for the town seamstress to do anything other than pin the sides of the trousers in. The hat on his head is almost covering his eyes, his hand pushing it back to sit properly, as he deposits the sack, once full of tiny gifts but now empty, on the ground. He’s got a fake beard on to cover most of his face so that none of the children that did see him would know it was Joel.

“Wow,” You muse lightly, standing from the couch, “I thought it was customary to wait for everyone to go to sleep before you turned up?”

There’s a slight grumble from under his beard as you step closer to him, watching as he pulls the fake beard down to sit around his neck, his beautiful face finally revealed. You set your back against the closed door, leaning against it, fluttering your eyelashes slightly.

“Did you bring us presents, Santa?” You ask, voice sultry and low.

“Depends,” Joel says, voice just as low, “Have you been a good girl this year?”

That low, southern drawl shoots straight between your legs, thighs rubbing together as you shrug at him, wrinkle your nose a little, “You’d have to ask my husband.”

You watch as he smirks, steps a little closer to you, his gloved hand wrapping around your waist, “What would he say?”

“That I can be a handful,” You bite at your bottom lip, “But ultimately, I always do as I’m told.”

Joel leans down, as slowly as possible, mouth so close you can feel his breath across your lips, your body tugged closely to his own now, “Well then,” He muses, “If you’ve been a good girl, it’s only right you get your gift.”

His mouth is on yours in no time, softly pressed against yours, his hand clutching your body close to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing up on your tiptoes so your mouth is finally flush with his own. You open your mouths at the same time, tongues meeting as Joel groans into your mouth, hands pulled from your body just long enough to tear the gloves off his hands, shoving them straight under the hem of your shirt, resting at your waist to move you gently from the door to the couch.

He sets you down on your back, fumbling his big body to cover yours as those hands of his work to undo your jeans - tearing them down your legs enough so he can put his mouth on you. You feel weirdly like a teenager, fumbling with someone on the couch like this, biting down on your fist in order to keep quiet as Joel’s tongue works across your soaked cunt, drinking you down, tipping you over the edge twice with his mouth - the second, with his fingers buried deep inside you - trying to keep yourself as quiet as you can, you know the other option is waking your daughter and having to spend the rest of the night trying to get her to go back to sleep.

It gets harder to hold that noise in when Joel pulls you onto his lap, trousers pushed down just enough for you to sink down onto his cock, that stupid Santa jacket unbuttoned, pushed off his shoulders, your mouth biting down on his skin as he fucks up into you, his hands gripping the meat of your ass to keep you still.

It’s messy, it lasts probably less than five minutes, Joel spilling himself inside of you, your mouth pulled from his shoulder, bite mark evident as he moves you gently, puts himself right so he can carry you up the stairs, tuck you both into bed, his warm body next to yours as you both drift off to sleep, sated and happy.

Then, the next morning, with Sofia on her knees in front of the tree, you sat on the couch, curled into Joel’s side with a smile on your face at the elation your daughter finds in tearing the paper off her gifts, she says something no-one expects.

“Daddy?” She says, big brown eyes looking up at the two of you.

“Yes, Darlin’?”

“Mommy was kissing Santa last night.”

You almost choke on your coffee, spluttering to try and keep your composure, praying to the Almighty that it was just the kissing she saw. Joel though, is cool as a cucumber.

“Is that right?” He asks, looking down at you with a wink.

“Yeah!” Sofia exclaims, “I saw her last night.”

“You were supposed to be in bed.” You chastise her lightly, “What were you doing up?”

“I heard the door open,” She says, so matter-of-factly that it’s like having a conversation with an adult, “I wanted to meet him.”

“Well, you see,” Joel speaks, “Sometimes, to get your presents from Santa, he’s gotta ask for somethin’ in return, all that travellin’ in one night and he sees your pretty mama?” He shakes his head, “I’d ask her for a kiss too.”

She mulls it over a little, small hands holding onto an unopened gift, then clearly accepts the explanation as she tears into the paper.

“Nicely saved,” You whisper into his ear, lips pressing a kiss to the delicate skin behind it, “Christmas is saved.”

“Oh baby,” He whispers back, taking the lull in Sofia’s attention on the two of you to look down at you, “You can’t think you can kiss Santa and get away with it?” His low voice sends a silver down your spine, “You’re gonna have to make up for that later."

[luveline]

missing eddie and roan rn🥲

can we get something were roan brings home flowers she picked during recess for reader🫶

Eddie and Roan —Eddie’s daughter brings you a bouquet when you’re sick. (step)mom!reader

Roan skips up the path to the house with a big smile. “Dad, come on!” she demands.

Eddie’s trying to carry three paper bags of groceries and close the trunk at the same time. He is not receptive to criticism at this present moment. “Shut up, babe.” 

“You shut up!” 

“You first.” He drops the keys by accident. “Ro, can you come and grab these for me? Thank you.”

She races to grab the keys and then back to the door. “Dad, COME ON!” 

“You’re being super rude and irate right now but I forgive you,” Eddie says, yanking the door open to let her inside, “because I know you’re hangry.” 

“Not hangry!” she denies, bursting into the hallway and kicking her shoes so hard against the shoe rack that the top layer of your work shoes topple onto the floor. “Mom!” she shouts, one word lined heavily with joy even now. She’s been calling you mom for months and it doesn’t get any less exciting for her, clearly. “Y/N! Y/N, I got you something! Where are you?” 

“I’m in bed!” you call, sounding excited yourself, if a little confused. “What did you get me?” 

Eddie wasn’t aware of any gifts. He puts the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and follows his charge up the stairs, curious and not wanting to put stuff away anyhow. Roan tumbles into the master bedroom still wearing her red vinyl coat, door slamming into the wall, you wincing in bed. 

Eddie winces too. “Ro,” he says desperately, “come on, bub, she’s in bed rest, remember? So we’re being careful about loud noises. I told you twice today already.” 

“Sorry! I just want to see you,” she says, straight to your side and arms up expecting to be helped. 

You pull her into your lap. “I’m sick of resting anyways.” 

Eddie intercepts Roan’s hug to lean down over you and give you a gentle kiss, of which you are extremely receptive. He gets butterflies thinking about you to this day, and having you raise your chin to receive him intensifies them by half, then whole as your lips do finally touch. 

“Okay day?” he asks. 

“Really quiet,” you say, tugging Roan up into your chest before she can get jealous. 

“Head?” he asks. 

“Fine. Barely a headache anymore.” 

Eddie bites his lip. Not too long ago you were in a hospital bed practically catatonic. He cannot afford to be uncareful with you. You’re too much to him. 

“Promise?” he asks. 

You’re distracted from answering by small hands on your face. “Mommy, I was talking to you first.” 

“Sorry, baby, yes you were.” You sink further down. “Can you ever forgive me?” 

Roan could forgive you for almost anything. She wiggles where she’s sitting on your stomach, hands clumsy at the bottom of her coats zipper, her chest rising and falling after her sprint up the stairs. Eddie and Roan are still both cold enough to have it emanating from their coats, but you don’t care, you just want your after school cuddle.

Eddie peels out of his coat at the same time, takes his shoes off with some self-chastisement (mud upstairs is awful and rude of him and he’ll spend the evening trying to rub it out of the rug because you really like the rug and he likes you), and sits on the bed by your feet. 

“Oh, what have you got?” you ask warmly. 

Eddie bends his head to watch her pull flowers from her overall pocket, one small stem at a time. Daisies and buttercups with petals smaller than her fingernails. They keep coming, ten then twenty, maybe thirty flowers on your chest. The stems are broken, but they’re all more alive than anyone could have hoped for considering they’d been sandwiched in her pocket for hours. 

“These are for me?” you ask. 

“All for you. Except this one for dad,” she says, picking up one of the bigger daisies. “And maybe this one for me.” She grabs a buttercup for herself. 

“Aw, thanks baby. These are gonna make me better, huh?” 

She looks like him when she smiles. Cheesy, cute, she arranges the flowers in a bouquet in her hand and presents it to you grandly. “I picked them at school behind the wooden house. Do you like ‘em?” 

“I love them,” you pronounce, just as grand but not half as loud. 

“I love you.” 

“You cheesball,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. 

“Ignore him.” You touch her cheek with a fondness that makes his jaw ache thinking about the love behind it. “I love you too.” 

“And you’ll be better soon,” Roan says. 

Eddie can answer that one. He holds your ankle through the sheets, and gives your calf a quick stroke. “She’s gonna be a hundred percent any day now, bug. Better be extra gentle with her to help her along.” 

Roan rubs her bouquet of flowers softly under your chin. “I’m gentle,” she whispers. 

You rake your fingers through her hair, a half centimetre a second, fingertips drawing down between her shoulders. Such a mom thing to do, Roan dissolves like sugar paper in the rain. 

Eddie smiles. “Alright, I’m jealous.”

[moonstruckme]

plz...i beg you...fluffy sirius x gf!reader and he is just obsessed

all touch all the time, a million kisses, "no don't leave"

reader is insecure about it cause she's not used to being in loving relationships let alone one with The Sirius Black

yes this is the most basic plot but plz i'm starved for new sirius content

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 669 words

“Sirius.” Your voice is muffled through thick fabric. “Honey, this is excessive.” 

You’re barely even walking, Sirius propelling you both along as he holds you tight to his side, half a dozen layers of cushioning between you. He scrubs his hand over your shoulder as if you need the extra warmth, looking at you worriedly. 

“Darling, you can’t go out in this weather with a jacket that doesn’t zip,” he says, pulling your scarf up a notch. It tickles the bottom of your nose. 

“I didn’t know it was broken until I put it on,” you defend yourself. “Anyway, I’m not cold.” 

“Liar,” he accuses fondly, dropping a kiss just below the wooly band of your hat. “Listen, we’re almost there, and then we’ll get some warm butterbeer in you, yeah?”

You don’t bother arguing further, allowing him to all but carry you, your side pressed awkwardly against his, the rest of the way to the Three Broomsticks. 

James and Remus both smile at you, expressions faintly puzzled, as you come inside. They’re sitting across from each other in the booth, and Sirius says, “Move, Prongs,” with such surety that James doesn’t even question it, sliding out of his seat and in next to Remus. 

“Siri,” you chide softly as he finally peels away from you to sit down. Chilly air fills in the gap in your coat where he stood, and you shiver in surprise. 

“I knew it!” Sirius cries, more distressed than triumphant. He reaches for you, hauling you into the booth and up against him. “C’mere, baby, let me warm you up.” He takes his gloves off before your own, rubbing warmth into your barely stiff fingers. Remus and James are silent, wearing nearly matching stunned expressions. Nearly, because Remus’ one eyebrow is quirked knowingly. 

“Merlin, shortcake, did you come upon a blizzard out there?” James asks, confused. 

“No,” you say embarrassedly, gently removing your hands from Sirius’ to take off your scarf. 

“The zipper on her coat is broken,” Sirius grouses like it’s part of some larger plot against you. 

“This is a ploy,” Remus decides. “He just wants an excuse to touch her.” 

Sirius scoffs, pressing his warm hands to your cheeks. “I don’t need an excuse to touch my girlfriend,” he says, and plants an emphatic kiss on your chapped lips to prove it. “My motivations are twofold. Now can one of you be useful and get us some butterbeer?”

“Oh, I’ve got it,” you say, but you’ve barely set one foot out of the booth before Sirius is scrambling to get his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to his chest.

“No, you stay.” He bands one arm around your waist and another just above your chest, keeping you securely in place. “One of the boys’ll get them, lovely.” 

James lets out a low whistle as Remus gets up, heading towards the bar. “What’ve you done to him?” he asks you. “It’s all baby this and lovely that, can’t keep his hands to himself, and now he has separation anxiety?”

“She is lovely,” Sirius says, nuzzling your shoulder as you shake your head at James bewilderedly. “If you had someone like her, Prongsie, you wouldn’t want her to leave either.” 

“Seems like a blessing and a curse,” James mutters, but he’s smiling. 

“Siri,” you try, speaking quietly to him over your shoulder, “I’m feeling pretty warm now, baby.” 

“Yeah?” He takes your chin in his hand, keeping your face angled to the side so he can kiss the corner of your mouth, the skin next to your eye. “That’s great, sweetness.” He starts tugging your coat off for you, placing it atop his own. You start to shuffle away, thinking the cause for your proximity is over, but he only adjusts you in his lap, intertwining your fingers and hooking his chin over your shoulder. “Mmm, yeah, this is better,” he decides, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Can get you even closer without all those layers in between.” 

[1nk-ling]

Sooooo, what if I told you that (having exhausted the pittifuly small amount of tmnt content in all our state libraries + Dailymotion) my sister and I made up a fan itteration together? Yay? Nay?

Okay, prepare for a full two day's worth incoherent concept sketches and ideas.

Firstly Leo:

I know, I know who he looks like. But don't worry, I stole from all itteraions equally. You'll see.

2012 shaped limbs, 2003 white void eyes, Rise shapes and patterns, 1987-esque knee socks on Leo, the lot.

He's a Spotted turtle. They like the cold more than most turtles, so I'm adding that to him, along with being quick with words and also a scrawny stick boy. Next to Mikey, Leon likes wearing clothes the best, and has this gigantic T-shirt that he belts up and feels like a Japanese warrior in.

Raph was a little harder than Leon.

He's a seaturtle, so he likes swimming even more than his brothers. He'll sneak out to the nearest sewer outlet at night and swim in the ocean whenever he can. But unlike Leon he hates being cold, so his swimming season is short and precious.

Mikey was...a nightmare.

I really wanted 'big Mikey', and I had a pretty clear vibe in my head, but putting it down was nearly impossible. He just never looked like a little brother who was actually huge. He looked like a big brother.

Then I got the vibe. Also, look up Western Painted Turtles. They are gorgeous.

Mikey is fascinated by humanity, collecting and wearing bits and pieces of "human Stuff" all the time.

Now Donnie:

Ooooh boy! This guy! The little alien! This is the immage that lept into my mind and started this whole thing. You may be thinking he doesn't look much like a teenager. And you'd be right. You see... >:}

Donnie wasn't mutated at the same time as Splinter and the others. They were the result of an early Kraang esperiment, but Splinter excaped with three little sons. A few years later, the Kraang mutated another turtle with a new mutigin recipy. Donnie was raised by the Kraang untill he was five, being trained and studied in Kraang-y things and ways.

We haven't worked out quite how the whole thing happens, but basically Splinter was out scrounging for food, and accidentally incountered some Kraang talking about moving the mutant turtle to a new lab. Absolutely panicked, he completely wrecked the entire convoy and broke into the truck, only to find that the child inside was NOT one of his sons at all. But of course, he wasn't about to just leave him there for the Kraang to find, so he brought him back and introduced him to his boys. Raph was skeptical at first, and Leon was cautious, but Mikey addopted him instantly and the others quickly followed suit.

Proportions chart. I love shapes.

Okay, turns out I can't draw rats. This Splinter is an artist, though. He makes it out of whatever he can find and sneaks out to sell it with more layers on than the average homeless New Englander. It makes him enough to buy food and some art supplies, but most of it he keeps in case of some emergency.

This ▲ This is the reason I wanted big Mikey. Big enough to purch on. Big enough to give Rise Raph cuddles. Big enough to be awesome big!

Little Donnie can speak fine, but he's generally silent. He has, however, trained himself to read in French and Japanese as well as English. Wouldn't understand a word of spoken French, but reads fluently. (You know the feeling of realizing you're a creator and can do whatever you want, so you make someone a fan of your childhood comics even though only 1 in every 12,000 people even know what they are, let alone liked them? It's great.)

Guy's hear me out. We all love the responsible/stressed/anxiety ridden Leos. But what about a chill Leo? Just a thought.

Congradulations! You just looked at all that. If you made it through the first five inches you're awesome!

We have so many more lore tidbits and so much more to work out and so much more to think about. I haven't even said half the things she and I were giggling about yesterday. But I will probably be thinking abut these guys for a while, so maybe I'll ramble again sometime.

[neilsbeloved]

amidst the waves: special part

summary: born a lowborn, your family a group of fishermen that supply the market; one day, it wasn't a fish caught but rather, a young man.

pairing: lucerys velaryon x fem!reader

notes: heree’s a special gift in the name of hotd s2 !! had this in the drafts for so long and just finished it after the first ep as a warm up for the fics to come :D i hope u guys enjoy

part: I, II, III, special

You had hoped for a nicer sea.

Inside of a sturdy wooden fishing boat, situated in the middle of the waters, all the while rain was pouring down on you, the waves wasn't cooperating as well.

Your hair was tied into a knot, absolutely drenched from the rainwater, as you desperately tried to help Alaine tie the net inside of your boat. Some of the sea creatures you've captured managed to jump back out because of the chaos inside of the boat.

"Are we not heading back!?" Alaine yelled, hands clutching the sides of the boat as the waves rocked the both of you.

"What do you think I'm doing!?" You moved the oars aggressively. Alaine groaned before joining you in rowing the boat.

Your hair strands stuck to your forehead by the time you arrived at a part of the sea where the storm had calmed down. Only a light shower of rain droplets fell on the both of you.

Alaine wiped her forehead tiredly, resting her head on her hands while you continued rowing. Desperate to head back home and escape any possible storm that may follow your boat.

Something seemed to feel wrong; like you were forgetting, neglecting something.

You sneaked your eyes to the side, a second before you sharply turned towards your sister's direction. Her skin was pale, body shivering.

"Alaine? Alaine!" You pulled off the extra piece of clothing around your neck and proceeded to place it around your sister. "Hey? Stay with me, okay? I'll bring us back." You whisper on her forehead and she weakly nods.

A sigh leaves your lips, forgetting the ache in your arms as you started to row continuously without any break.

It took the both of you an hour at most; your arms were practically crying and shaking. The fear and nervousness inside of you growing whenever you glance at your sister still trembling in your scarf.

The familiar shore reappears in your sight, even though it was still far away, you felt a bit relieved seeing it.

There was no one by the shore when you got closer. Your hut's door closed shut and you couldn't see any movement from inside of the open windows. You gently grabbed your sister's head, whispering her name on her head as you tried to wake her up.

"We're here, Alaine. Please stay for me," you spoke, rubbing her head as you started screaming your brother's name. "Arrel! Where are you! We need you, now!"

By your first scream, there wasn't anyone that came out to help bring you fully to the shore. You screamed Arrel's name again, this time even louder which caused Alaine to groan.

You apologized softly, pulling back the oars and rowing.

Someone yells your name, at first you thought it was Arrel but it wasn't.

There was another figure right beside your brother's. A figure that seemed taller, a little bit bulkier, and certainly more layered. The figure had a unique coat on, a luxurious one.

Your eyes go wide when the two of them run to your boat, pulling the front to the shore as your body freezes on the spot.

It's Luke.

Or, to be correct, Prince Lucerys.

"What happened to her, Y/N?" he asks out with concern, rushing to pull off the coat he was wearing and place it on top of your sister.

You weren't sure what to tell him; do you just answer and act normal as if there wasn't anything that went on between the two of you three years ago? Or do you ignore him, throw a tantrum, reject his offer of a helping hand?

"Y/N! What happened to her?!" You were snapped back to reality when Arrel was the one that asked you. Your eyes blinking erratically as you stammered through your words, telling them that it seemed Alaine caught a cold because of the rain.

"We have to bring her to the hut. Arrel, get some new clothes for her, the ones I bought, those are comfortable and warm enough for her." Luke instructs, your brother nodding as he runs off.

"What- Arrel! Help me bring Alaine there what are you doing!"

Luke sighs, obvious to him that you were ignoring him.

He grabs hold of Alaine's arm, helping her up with his hand on her hips. Despite not wanting to, you grabbed the other arm and proceeded to help your sister out of the boat. Choosing to set aside your pride for now.

"You should run inside. You're drenched! I will carry her." Luke says, stopping for a moment.

"No!" You yelled.

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes as he nods.

By the time you got to the hut, you had quickly finished dressing Alaine in a new set of clothes from her wardrobe, not taking the ones Arrel was handing you that were from Lucerys.

Arrel had brought in a pot with cold water, and you grabbed a towel and submerged it in cold water before folding it to place on top of Alaine's forehead. The younger woman was still shivering, even though her forehead was hot.

"Here," Luke joins, entering the open room with some liquid inside of a small cup.

You looked at him, confused. "This," he says, raising the cup. "It's tea. We can use it to make her sweat and get the cold out. We have to get the heat out of her body."

"I know how to treat a cold, Luke," you grumbled. Arrel is looking at you with an "are you serious" look. Another sigh leaves your lips. Arrel rolls his eyes and takes the tea from Luke.

You held the back of your sister's head up, helping Arrel and Luke as they tried to make her drink it. Making sure that none of the hot liquid falls on her. Alaine coughs loudly, grimacing at the taste.

When the two males get her to drink it all, you set her back down and wrap a blanket over her body. Letting her rest and sleep.

Hours passed by in such an awkward atmosphere. You were seating on the seat by the kitchen, quietly cutting an apple as Arrel assorted today's catch into different tubs. Luke was out for a bit, unclear to you what he was doing but all that you remembered was him borrowing a piece of parchment and some ink. After that, he stayed inside of the living room, right across from the open kitchen with Arrel in the middle.

Your youngest sibling suddenly stands up, informing you that he'll be taking them to the market and that he left some to cook for later.

"W-what, you're leaving now?" You stammered, eyes flicking over to Luke before snapping back to Arrel.

"Yes. I have to get these to the market. I have to buy some herbs and other food as well, some you can use for our dinner with Luke later-"

"I appreciate the thought, Arrel, but there is need not of an extra dinner. I can leave before dinner if needed-" It was Luke's turn to speak now.

Your lips go dry, Luke gulping, Arrel staring at the both of you weirdly.

Taking none of yours statements into account, he leaves the hut. Ignoring your empty threat.

That is why here you both were. Sitting in silence, not a word spoken, no stories of what happened in the other's life for the past years.

You lean back a bit, catching a glimpse of the sun setting so you stand up. Rubbing your hands on your hips. "I'll start cooking."

Luke was quick to stand as well, following your footsteps to the kitchen. "I can- I'll help!"

"No need. Sit."

"Nonsense. I used to cook for your family all the time." He says with a chuckle, an attempt in lightening up the atmosphere. "Used to, Luke. I'm sure your maids and cooks cook for you now, of course you'd forget how to grill and cook."

He grabs the small pail filled with fish, running outside and away from you.

Being the person that you are, you ran after him. Dashing out of the door while screaming his name, glaring at him. A smile draws on his lips as he runs near the shore, the weight of his clothes evidently wearing him down.

You shove him hard, gripping the padded shoulder of his shirt when you catch onto him. Luke laughs at that, acting as if he was getting hurt with each time you smacked his shoulder.

"Give me it; I'll cook," you demanded.

He calms down a bit, sealing his lips as he thinks for a second. Eventually, he hands you the pail with a small grin. "As long as you'll let me help."

Your eyes narrowed at him, and he walked away without a word. Luke catches up to you with no problem and sets out to walk beside you with his hands behind his back.

"I missed you, you know," he said. The sudden statement surprised you, a faint red hue threatening to show on your cheeks.

"I wrote to you many times," and you started to feel a bit apologetic. Remembering the times when a random raven flies to your hut, having a letter with Luke's signature? Speaking about how being with his family was weird but great,. He was still weird even after months, but he grew back into his family. Though he also missed staying in the hut, in his own little tent, grilling seafood at night for dinner.

"I didn't know you did," you lied.

You hear him scoff a bit: "I found my letters underneath your bed; Y/N. Arrel showed them to me."

And there it is. The nerve to apologize after being caught.

"I assume you have your reasons, and I respect that." He cuts off your train of thoughts, already assuring you when he sees the guilt strike your face.

"Forgive me," you said. "There is nothing to forgive, Y/N. I understand that we did not really leave each other on a good foot." He spoke with some sense of maturity, different from the one he already had way back.

You nod, pursing your lips.

The two of you remained silent, him watching as you prepped the fish, expertly using your knife quick and clean.

"So what brought you back here?" It was your turn to speak, opening up a conversation.

"I told you." He smiles at you. "I missed you."

You look away from him, acting as if you were looking for something, just to avoid him seeing your cheeks. The sun was still setting, and he would still be able to see the rosy stains on your cheeks from his reply.

"And the sea," he laughed, pointing at the waters. You laughed with him, and although it was forced, you tried your best not to. "Of course, the sea."

The rest of the conversation passed by awfully comfortably. It was like two childhood friends catching up about what happened in their lives. Loud laughs and playful remarks thrown here and there whenever one joked about something.

Arrel arrived, not really interrupting them when he did. Just simply walking inside the hut silently carrying some other already cooked food.

You remember one simple question that you had—something that was lingering in your head for the whole day ever since you saw him today. "What is it, my lady?"

"So, uh, how is life betrothed?" The response you got caught you off-guard.

Luke laughed. He laughed. Loudly. Not just a simple laugh; no, he was laughing hard.

You got thrown off by that, shaking your head and looking away. Focusing down on what you were cooking over the fire, as you just chose not to push on it. When he laughs at your name, you scowl. "What?!"

"Y/N-"

A loud roar cuts you both off, and your heart almost falls out of your ribcage when you see two big dragons flying in your direction. Your hand immediately comes over to grip Luke's arm, squeezing it as you point at the two creatures with fear on your face.

Compared to the pure fright on your face, Luke's face had relaxed as he recognized the two dragons despite the dark skies.

Both dragons flew above them, circling their little vicinity before the two dragons disappear for a few moments. Taking deep breaths, you slowly released your hold on his arm. A small smile appeared on his face as you went back to the clay pot hanging over the fire as if nothing had happened.

He followed you to your spot, ghosting over the fire as he watched you in silence. I watched the way your forehead creased in concentration, but the nibbling on your lips told him you were still irritated.

"I do not have a betrothed, my lady," he says the answer that was interrupted before.

"Rest her soul."

Luke shakes his head, "She is not dead. The betrothal was called off a few days after I returned."

"Oh!" you sigh, biting the inside of your cheek awkwardly at the piece of information. You didn't necessarily know what to do with the information but it certainly did lift a lot of weight off of your chest. "That is... unfortunate."

"Incredibly unfortunate," Luke echoes in the most monotone voice you ever heard. A deadpan look on his face.

You were about to take notice on that response of his when three figures appear behind him. I am walking towards the both of you. Luke, looking back as well, turns again to you but now with a genuine smile.

When they come closer, your breath hitches. It's Queen Rhaenyra with Prince Jacaerys and Joffrey.

"Your grace," you say, taking a knee and bowing to them. Luke glances at you as he does a shallow curtsy himself before he stretches his arms to hug his family.

"It is our honor to meet you, Lady Y/N. You are my son's savior," Rhaenyra reaches to shake your hand, a look of genuineness on her eyes. Jace and Joffrey reach as well, each taking turns saying their greetings.

"You praise me, your grace. I simply did what any normal person would do. It is more surprising and commendable that Prince Luke—" you pause, "Lucerys—managed to live through our impoverished, penniless—"

"Y/N." Luke stops you there, holding your arm with a frown. "You should not bring your family down. You guys have been more than welcoming and accommodating for me."

"I agree with Luke. It is us that are in debt to your hospitality. Without you, I do not think our family could have been complete again." Jace cuts in with a solemn smile.

Rhaenyra comes forward, glancing at your family's hut. "Oh, my parents are yet to come back from the town. My brother, Arrel, is also in the market for dinner—perfect!"

"I had just remembered. I will be able to cook a bigger dinner once he arrives."

"There is no need, dear. We have come here to express our gratitude for your hospitality to my son," Rhaenyra says softly. "May we?" You nod eagerly, opening the front door of your hut to welcome the unexpected family.

Luke tends to Alaine first, covering her with the curtain to provide her with some privacy as she is sleeping, before he happily accompanies his own brothers. Even telling Joffrey to start fanning the pit of fire while Jace skewered the fish. You and his mother having a cup of tea inside.

"You are all fishermen?"

You nod, "My mother and father deliver these seafood to King's Landing on occasion, which is why only us three are left here."

Rhaenyra hums, looking around. "Luke has told us all about this. According to him, he learned a lot more lessons on livelihood here than in King's Landing."

The two of you share laughters at that. "My apologies, your grace. My family—I included them—had not known of Luke—Prince Lucery's status so we had treated him as normal as we would any other person."

"There is no need to call him with such formalities. I am aware of the relationship you both share," Rhaenyra replies and you look at her awkwardly.

What even is this relationship that she speaks of? You weren't quite sure.

"There is no need to feel troubled, Y/N. If my son has yet to tell you, his—"

"Betrothal was called off," You finish for her. The Queen sends you a knowing look as she nods. The two of you comfortably sitting in silence.

A gasp disrupts the silence, "Oh my, your grace," Alaine's head falls to bow. Gulping as she looks at you with major confusion. You shrug discreetly, not knowing how to reply.

"This is Alaine. Our middle-born." Alaine does a curtsy with nervousness before Luke's call from outside echoes inside. "Mother! Y/N! Dinner is ready. Arrel has arrived back as well!" Luke yells from outside.

The three of them head back out to reveal the four boys getting along with each other. Arrel, despite being younger than the other three, is tallest and is the one ordering them around. They were fixing the plates and preparing the cooked meat.

Alaine had already run to the food as soon as she came out. You and Rhaenyra... still chatted.

"I know my son's attachment is heavy but I tell you this as a mother: all I want for Luke is happiness. He is to rule Driftmark after his grandfather. I figure it will be an incredibly burden, not to discredit your or..."

"Your grace, I do not know."

"Mother," Luke calls. The two of you turning to him. "You shan't pressure Y/N. Let us have supper."

Rhaenyra squeezes your hand as she sighs, nodding while pulling the both of you to where they were eating.

It was a rowdier but definitely cozier supper. Laughters and stories both from the sea and the castle were shared as if there weren't a barrier between their status—because to them, there weren't.

Luke was right beside you throughout supper. Comfortably jesting with your siblings and his. It was all too casual.

The two of you share a look at that moment, eyes staring longingly at each other. A smile comes onto your lips when you feel his hand slowly and softly creeping into your free hand. You glance at his hand, then at his face.

He's smiling at you. One that pulls at your heart again, just like before. Only this time, he's sure he won't be leaving you any time soon.

[skzdust]

Room 514

Part 2

In most of my writing, I use italics to denote character's thoughts, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to do that in part 1 of this fic, but I did it in this part! I hope you guys like it! Also, poem referenced is "She Walks In Beauty" by Lord Byron. I changed around some of the pronouns for a gender neutral reader.

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: watching a show, a snowstorm, Romantic poetry, gummy candy

Word count: 1.9k

Taglist: @weirdowithaphone

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

——-

You ran your fingers through your hair, leaning back in your desk chair. Your room was usually not where you’d studied when you’d lived with Catherine, but having your own room made you want to try it.

It was not going well, but you weren’t sure if that was the fact that you were working on calculus or the fact that you were used to studying in the library.

You got up and opened your door, hoping that if Jisung got home, he’d come to ask what you were up to.

You were studying for about twenty more minutes before that wish came true.

“Knock knock.” Jisung’s head poked around your doorframe, grinning.

“Hey, Jisung.”

“Oh, that’s not a good tone.” He stepped into the doorway with his whole body. His body… his waist is so small, it’s ridiculously hot.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “This calculus is kicking my ass.”

“Do you want me to help? Or would a drama show be more helpful?”

You closed your textbook, which was not helping at all. “Drama for sure.”

“Perfect. Want to go get snacks?”

You stood up. “Absolutely.”

Jisung grabbed a second, thicker jacket from his room, layering it over the one he already had on, and you went to leave. He paused with his hand on the door. “Don’t you want a coat or something?”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m wearing a jacket already.”

A few minutes into the walk to the on-campus convenience store, you regretted your decision. There wasn’t snow in the air or on the ground, but the forecast said a snowstorm was on the way, and clouds were beginning to gather. The wind was cutting, blowing through your jacket with ease, and you shivered.

“You cold?” Jisung noticed your struggle.

“No.” You lied, hugging yourself.

“Lies.” He began to take off his heavier jacket.

“No, don’t do that.” You elbowed him. “I’m not stealing your jacket. You’re gonna get cold.”

“No, I’m not. Han Jisung never gets cold.” He glanced at you with a smile that practically made you weak in the knees.

You mentally shook yourself. I need to chill. He was just a guy. So what if his smile was gorgeous… and he was giving you his jacket because you were shivering, even in this weather… and he stopped in your room to see what you were up to…

Chill! Out!

Jisung held out his jacket to you, and you took it with a sigh. “Han Jisung never gets cold, huh?”

“Never.” He breathed out through his mouth, watching it fog in the air. “Even in a snowstorm.”

“We better try to be inside before that hits.”

He nodded. “Don’t want you getting chilly.”

“I don’t want either of us to get frostbite.” You put the jacket—his jacket—on, taking a deep breath. It smelled like his cologne.

He shook his head. “No one’s getting frostbite.”

When you got to the store, you immediately gravitated towards the candy aisle. Jisung followed you, picking up a chocolate bar. “Ooh, it’s got caramel.”

“You like caramel?”

“Who doesn’t?”

You nodded. “Good question.”

You looked around for a little bit before finding your favorite gummy candy, and you and Jisung walked to the front of the store to check out. Jisung got his caramel chocolate bar and a bag of pretzels, and you got your candy and a bag of microwave popcorn.

You looked at Jisung with a serious look on your face as the cashier scanned your items. “You have to have popcorn if you’re watching something.”

He nodded with an equally serious expression. “Of course, of course.”

Jisung paid, and you walked out of the store. A few snowflakes were beginning to stir in the air.

“We’d better hurry.” You looked at him. “I really don’t want to get caught in this storm.”

He looked up. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

It was about a ten minute walk back to your hall, and you were praying the storm would hold off for that time, but you weren’t that lucky.

“Shit.” Jisung whispered as the wind and snow began to pick up. “We need to get inside. No frostbite today.”

You changed course for the nearest building, which happened to be Hill Hall, one of the English buildings. You recognized it from a creative writing class you’d taken. You scanned into the building and pushed the door shut against the wind.

“So what’s the plan while we wait for the storm to blow over?” Jisung tilted his head at you, looking a bit like a confused squirrel.

“I guess we can sit in one of the classrooms.” You shrugged, leading the way into the building.

It was a Saturday, and you didn’t see a single other person, even as you ventured further. Jisung suddenly turned into a random room. “Look at this one!”

The room was slightly bigger than a standard classroom, but it didn’t look like one. The walls were lined with books, and a few shelves stood in the middle. A couple of desks were pushed against the wall.

It was familiar. “Oh, I’ve been in here. It’s the little poetry library.”

“Poetry library? I didn’t know we had a library aside from the big one.” Jisung looked around. “And I’m an English major!”

“You’re an English major?” You echoed.

“Yeah.” He grinned. “With a comms double major, for something actually practical.”

“Wow, double major.” You were impressed. “So, you’re smart.” As well as cute. That’s just not fair.

He laughed. “I don’t know if I would say smart. I’ve been known to make some pretty bad decisions.”

“Well, y’know. No one’s perfect.”

“That’s true.” He turned to the shelves. “Do you know anything in here?”

“Yeah, I had a 101 that focused on Romantic poetry. Wordsworth, Byron, Keats… all those guys.” You waved a hand. “I liked the class, but I don’t remember a lot of it.”

He looked at the ceiling for a moment, thinking, and then looked back at you. “They walk in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in their aspect and their eyes.” There was something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you did your best to suppress your feelings. “We learned that one! Lord Byron, right?”

“Yep.” Jisung smiled. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“And you have the beginning memorized? That’s cool, I’m good at songs, but I can’t remember just words.”

He shrugged. “I really like poetry. I have the whole thing memorized.”

“The whole thing? I could never.” You waved a hand. “I really liked that class, but I’m not that good.”

“I’m sure you could, if you wanted to.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “I could help. I’ll quiz you. Next line, ready? ‘Thus mellowed to that tender…’” He made a rolling motion with his hands. “Fill in the blank.”

“Uhhh….” You racked your brain. “What’s the rhyme scheme?”

“I think ‘bright’ is the rhyme.”

“Well, it’s gotta be ‘light’ then.”

Jisung smiled. “See, you’ve got it! I’m sure you could do the whole poem if you wanted.”

“I don’t know that I want.” You pointed at him. “Why would I when I could just ask you any time I need a Romantic poem?”

“Romantic in the nineteenth century genre sense, or in the love sense?”

“Either. That poem is both.”

“I know a few love poems.” He shrugged. “Not all of them in the Romantic genre. Important clarification.”

A horrible idea occurred to you. “Do you use them a lot? Got a partner you quote them at?”

Jisung laughed. “Nope, no partner. I keep them in my back pocket just in case I need to flirt.”

Your heart jumped. “So… were you just flirting with me?”

Jisung practically jumped towards the room’s one window, pushing back the shade and hiding his face. “Just… ah… exemplifying my knowledge of the Romantic genre.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, eyebrows raised. He’d been very noncommittal. I’m gonna let him be noncommittal.

“Looks like there’s a break in the snow, if you want to go back to our room. I have an idea for a drama we can start!”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jisung led the way out of Hill Hall, and you made a face as you stepped into the snow. “My socks are gonna get all wet.”

“Do you want me to carry you back?” Jisung said, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

“You’re making fun of me.” You said, smiling back. “You hate me!”

“I do not!” He protested. “Why would I offer to carry you if I hate you?”

“Chivalry.”

“Oh, I’m chivalrous?”

“Chivalrous Jisung, that’s what they call you.”

He laughed. “That is not what they call me.”

You made it back to the dorm just in time. The snow was starting to blow around in heavy gales as you approached the door.

You made it back up to room 514 and set out your haul of snacks on the coffee table.

“Let me get a blanket.” Jisung walked into his room, and you reluctantly slipped off his jacket. You’d considered “forgetting” to give it back, but it was covered in snow.

He returned with a fluffy throw, and you held out the jacket. “Sorry, it’s all snowy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He took it and shook it out by the door as you sat down on the couch. “No harm done!”

He walked back over. Please sit next to me…

He sat next to you, throwing the blanket half over himself and extending the other half to you. You scooted a little closer on the couch to curl up under the blanket, swallowing hard.

Jisung reached over you for the remote, his arm brushing your leg. You swallowed again.

Jisung seemed oblivious. “Okay, it’s this show called The Immortal and the Restless. It’s got a vampire, it’s super funny.”

You smiled. “Sounds good, I love a vampire story.”

Jisung bared his teeth and made claws with his hands. “I want to suck your blood!”

“Terrifying.” You were unable to stop the giggle bubbling up in your chest.

“That’s what I was going for.” Jisung sat back down, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he queued up the first episode of the show. “Ready?”

“One sec.” You grabbed your candy. “Okay, ready.”

He pressed play, and you opened the bag. “Want some?”

“Sure.” Jisung took one of the candies. “Ooh, I love these.”

“Me too.” You smiled. “We should do this regularly. Looks like a long show.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Jisung nodded. “If you don’t like it, though, we can find another one.”

“I think I’ll like it, I like vampires.”

He did the teeth and claws again.

“Horrifying.”

“Thank you.”

[leejenowrld]

back to you is so good im getting pissed bc id have to wait for a while like three more chapters BUT its also like i’m so engrossed that it doesnt matter I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT😭😭😭 but im also about to rup my headd off

you’re such an amazing writer btw♥️ atp you should really make a career out of it like your shit is CRAZY it deserves to be published in a hardcover book😭😭

(ps. pls give a LITTLE spoiler😭)

this message is everything. everything. i need you to know that — you have no idea how much it means to me that you feel that engrossed, like you want to rip your head off (i am right there with you, fully bald, screaming at my own keyboard). that’s exactly the energy i want you to feel in this story. i’m lowkey feeling the same but i also don’t want ‘back to you’ to end😭😭😭

and your words about publishing?? i am clutching my heart. truly. the fact that you would say it deserves to be in hardcover — i am so deeply grateful you see this story in that way. i pour my whole chest into every scene, every twist, every moment between them, and knowing it’s reaching you like this makes every single second of it worth it.

now… your little (big) spoiler because you deserve it. (future me will regret this) i haven’t actually written anything yet but i have a lot of plans so this is what i was able to come up with in a few minutes lol it’s not something that will be in the fic but more so teasing an arc i want to heavily explore <3 brace yourselves. i warned you.

there was a time, in college, when karina would’ve done just about anything to get jaemin to look at her the way he looked at every other girl in the room. she played it cool, of course, always cool, never desperate — she had too much pride for that. but it was there, in the quiet ways she lingered near him at parties, in the sharp one-liners she threw across the room just to see if he’d catch them. she watched him slip away with girl after girl, all eager to feel his mouth on their necks, his hands under their skirts, while he brushed karina off with little more than a polite smile. not my type, he told her once, flat and unapologetic. not looking for something casual. and the worst part? he meant it. there was no game in his voice, no hidden tease. jaemin, for all his reputation, had always been the kind of man who guarded his real appetite behind a smirk and a mystery, keeping some parts of himself tightly leashed, some lines even he wouldn’t cross.

but time is cruel. time cracks men open from the inside. time makes a man into what he swore he’d never be.

years later, they find each other again, not at some reckless college party, but across the wide sweep of a new york gala, lights burning cold over them, city alive outside the glass walls. he’s not the boy she once knew, and she’s not the girl who used to chase his shadow. they’ve both sharpened into versions of themselves they couldn’t have imagined. jaemin’s a pediatric resident now — and it’s almost funny, almost, if you don’t look too close at the jagged edges underneath. he carries himself with that same rakish charm, that careless roll of his shoulders, but there’s a hard shine in his eyes that wasn’t there before. a man who never expected to become anyone’s hero but stumbled into it anyway, all rough edges and unexpected tenderness, a product of too much pain layered over too many sleepless nights. he’s seen things. felt things. and instead of softening him, it’s carved him into someone dangerous.

karina’s no less of a weapon. she’s cutthroat in the industry now, creative director for a luxury fashion house, her signature dripping off campaigns across the city skyline. she doesn't chase anymore — she commands. her gaze, when it lands on jaemin across the gala, is assessing, cool, full of the kind of quiet contempt only a woman who has moved on can wear convincingly. her heels click as she crosses to him, silk dress hugging her frame like it was poured over her skin, her voice smooth and razor-sharp when she stops beside him at the bar.

"i don’t do boys who used to fuck their way through half of campus," she says, lifting her glass to her lips, eyes never leaving his face. her words are deliberate. calculated. because she knows the irony cuts deepest here, now, when they’ve both become exactly what they once weren’t. jaemin, who once turned her down with a straight face, is now the man she assumed he was back then — loose, reckless, fucking anything that’ll have him just to feel something pulse beneath his skin.

his smirk twists wider, but there’s something fractured in it, something that nearly aches to look at if you pay too much attention. he raises his glass in return, toasts her cool gaze, and lets the weight of history pull the corner of his mouth higher. "good thing i’ve got the whole half left," he replies, low and rough, like gravel under velvet.

but it’s not cockiness, not really. it’s hunger. it’s regret, twisted into want. it’s the unspoken memory of all the times he brushed her off, and the sharp sting of knowing she doesn’t need him now, not the way she once did. she watches him, just watches, like she’s peeling him apart with her eyes alone, and for the first time — maybe ever — jaemin feels like he’s the one being hunted.

there’s a moment, right then, that catches between them like a live wire. it thrums with every unspoken thing, every missed chance, every burn they thought time had buried but never really cooled.

and they both feel it.

god, they feel it.

[porcelaintoybox23]

BbRob snippets as promised

“Better or worse?”

“Worse.”

The doctor nods before moving the testing machine. Despite the room’s light being dimmed as much as possible, Dick still squints his eyes.

“Your glasses will be ready by next week. We’ll send you an email.”

He nods and fishes out his temporary lenses and flips on the shade attachments. The sun is still out and he can’t drive blind. He’s so tempted to call Alfred, but that would require a ouija board, and this line of humor isn’t funny. Fingers dig into his palms and he’s grateful the glasses hide the tears forming.

Alfred died over a year ago, but it’s only been a few months for him. It was a lovely service, one he couldn’t appreciate because he wasn’t there, Ric was. Dr. Kirk would tell him to work on acceptance, not in the “I’m okay with this” way but in the “You can’t change what happened” way.

He still doesn’t understand the difference. Either way, he’s furious and hurt, and he wants to fall down and scream—

“Mr. Grayson?”

Dick jolts and looks down. The receptionist is eyeing him from a distance, gaze focused on the door handle he’s currently ripping off its screws. Another lovely reminder that he’s no longer fully human.

“Oh. Sorry” He fixes it and hightails it to the car.

God, he’s already so tired and it’s only ten. This appointment was the only thing he had to do today, so he can head home and bury himself under three blankets and a double layer of fuzzy socks. He shivers as the car warms up and checks his phone. Bea messaged while he was inside.

You okay?

Yeah, heading home.

Lmk if you want any food.

***

“Dick?”

“Do I know you?”

“Duh,” he smacks his head. “It’s me Gar, beast boy? I’m just wearing a glamour. Why are you in Colorado?”

“I was looking at an apartment here but it just sold.”

“I don’t mind having a roommate. It’d be like old times.“

***

“Pardon my French *insert the French for your father is a fucking piece of shit.*

“You speak French?”

“I got bored”

***

“Uh, alcohol and antidepressants do not mix.”

***

Gar shifts back to normal and tucks his chin into his shoulder.

“Good morning?” Bea smirks

“I’m realizing that this looks strange.”

***

“Get off.”

“No. I refuse for my grave to read crushed into paste by Dick Grayson’s thighs.”

***

He deepens his voice. “Talon!”

Dick freezes, muscles twitching against the command. He takes a shaky step forward.

“Talon, at ease.”

He finally relaxes to parade rest. “What are your orders?”

I think I’m going to puke.

“Sit down on the couch. Don’t move unless I order you.”

There’s no tension in his stance as he moves. He sits with his hands folded and stares at Gar, waiting for his next command.

Gar gestures Rae to the door.

“Walk out normally. Your magic might freak him out.”

She nods and steps out.

He kneels in front of Dick, making sure to meet his eyes. “Dick?” Nothing.

“Can you tell me five things you can hear?”

“The air conditioner, the dog whimpering, Amalee Vong vacuuming downstairs, a doorbell, and your accelerated heartbeat.”

“Okay. Do you know where we are?”

“Denver, Colorado. Kensington apartment complex, floor 3, room 215.”

Gar nods. The light seems to be returning to his eyes. “Who resides here?”

“You, Garfield Logan, age 23, code name: menagerie.” His hands tremble and Gar holds them.

“And?”

“Richard…John Grayson, commonly known as ‘Dick Grayson’, age 25, codename: Nightwing.”

“And that’s?”

The tremors worsen and Dick pales. “M—me.” He yanks his hands from Gar’s and curls into a shaking ball.

“Dick. Look at me.”

He curls in tighter.

Gar sighs. “Do you want me to leave?”

He shakes his head.

“Would you prefer if I changed?”

“No.”

“I’m moving next you, okay?”

“O—okay.”

Gar leans in gently. Dick’s shiver are probably a mix of adrenaline and cold. “I’m wrapping us in the blanket.” He gets no response and proceeds. He drapes it loose around them.

“Could you talk?”

***

“A burden? What the fuck is wrong with you people? Loving someone isn’t a burden, he isn’t a burden! How—how can you…”

He grabs Dick’s hand. “We’re leaving.”

***

Dick’s smirk is threatening to split his face, but he can’t help it. Gar’s eyes shift between him and the mirror, face becoming grumpier with each pass.

“Who do I look like?”

“A kpop idol.”

“I literally hate you.”

***

“Vegetarian sushi. It’s all the rage in SoCal.”

He gestures with the chopsticks. “C’mon, it’s good I swear.”

***

Dick blinks as the code he’s writing becomes an endless stream of gibberish.

“Gar, what the hell?”

The cat rolls its eyes. “It’s 2 am, go to sleep.”

***

“This is a complete and utter waste of my powers and time.”

Dick flashes his strongest puppy dog eyes. “Please, Rae?”

She sighs. “Gar is taller by 2cm.”

Dick’s jaw drops as Gar cheers. “What do you mean he’s taller?”

“You’re both pretty short. It’s just a few centimeters, who cares?”

“Centimeters broke up the Pines twins!”

Gar gives him the stink eye. “It was a millimeter, Richard.” He looks to Raven. “Fake fans, am I right?”

Rae disappears in a plume of smoke.

“If she keeps doing that, we’ll never get our deposits back.”

***

“My uncle tried to kill me for my inheritance which wasn’t great. “

“It’s hard. I miss my parents but they weren’t always there, y’know? They dragged me all over for their research and it nearly killed me. I like being a vigilante but there are times that I wish I was normal, that I was still human and didn’t have ptsd from experimentation and Armageddon.”

“Which one?”

They both share a humorless smirk.

***

“So…wanna see the Barbie movie?”

Dick blinks. “S—sure?”

“Two tickets, please.”

“I hate that it was good. Why was it good? You’re the detective here. Explain.”

Dick shrugs. “Some things are inexplicable.”

***

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“You look like you’re heading to the chair”.

Gar sneezes. “It’s 32 degrees.”

***

“You’re sick.”

“just a cold.” His voice cracks and bends as he strains to reply. “Go to your thing.”

Dick throws a blanket over his shoulders and heads to the kitchen.

“Already asked for the day off.”

“You did this when we were titans. Pretend you’re fine, hide yourself away and suffer alone. Can’t say I’m any better.”

“Old habits die hard.”

***

Gar rubs his stinging eyes. “Jesus, fuck. I’m sorry.”

Dick feels empty, deflated. The confrontation he’s been dreading went to shit and the only person reacting normally is his friend.

“I just don’t get it. Like—how…ugh I’m making this about me. How are you?”

Honestly, a bit in awe. Few people can withstand Bruce’s glare, much less the full wrath of all the bats, yet Gar did. Stood unflinching, eyes glowing in animalistic rage on his behalf.

“I’ll be fine. I didn’t expect that to go well.”

***

“Where do your clothes go?”

“I don’t know and at this point I’m too afraid to learn”

***

You’re the type of person who makes tea in the microwave

[letmesleep8]

even if I die screaming // elliexreader

CHAPTER 2: To Someone Special

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

chapter 1 | chapter 3 | AO3 gets it first

content warnings/tags: subtle homophobia; friends to lovers; christmas love.

notes: hello again, buddies! <3 chapter two is here, thank you for the notes! let me know in the comments in case anyone wants to be tagged in chapter 2 btw

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"Every second counts, I don't wanna watch tv anymore"

— Bags, Clairo

December 24, 2038 Winter

Dear diary, 

Christmas is FINALLY coming up! I've always been a big time Christmas girl but this year it's extra special: Ellie suddenly realized she would not self-combust if she showed up at one of my Christmas parties just once! Well, it's not exactly a party. Mama's gonna be on patrol on the 25th, so I called Ellie, Dina and Jesse over to watch some movies. Dina and Jesse decided they'd spend the holiday with the boy's parents this year for once and Ellie, I believe, felt pitiful and decided to come by. 

I like her. She can be closed off, but she's fun. Cat said she is easy to like when she makes a bit of effort. They had a fight last week and I think I saw them kiss once, maybe twice. Mama's not the biggest fan of Ellie, she says she "doesn't think that's normal". How does she fight literal zombies every week and her biggest fear is a lesbian?

Gonna do some baking now. Hope Ellie likes pie.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────••─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

I placed some blankets on the couch and put the best holiday movie I could find next to the player. Our house was always incredibly tidy, I can't stand dusty places. I lit a candle and put the star I made myself on top of the pine. I'm committed to having a Christmas tree every single year, it doesn't matter how hard I find to bring it inside by myself. To me, it's a glimpse of what life was before the outbreak, and I also realized that my mom finds some sense of normalcy in these things. In a world like this, we lack some tradition. My kitchen timer rings and I run to the oven, the apple pie I've made looks great. I carefully take it off the heat and place it on the counter.

"It's a blizzard out here!" I hear some knocking on the door. "I am about to freeze to death!" I walk to the door to find Ellie all bundled up, her tiny nose red from the cold, the calluses on her fingers covered by navy blue wool.

"Come on in, sorry for the waiting", I reply as I brush some of the snow off her shoulders. She enters the house, a thankful gaze as she sees the lit fireplace. The girl takes off some layers of clothing along with her shoes, sitting on the couch.

"You should stop wearing sneakers on the snow, your feet are soaked", I threw her a blanket. "You're gonna get a cold."

She scoffs, "Well, if I ever do I know that I can count on ya' as my doctor", a slight smirk present on her face, still red from the low temperature. I smile and roll my eyes at her, maybe slightly blushed, 'cause my face definitely feels hot. 

I cut each of us a piece of pie and joined her on the couch. “You like Christmas movies?” I smirk. Of course she does, who doesn’t like Christmas movies? Well, I am quickly surprised by her, who admits she’s never watched one.

“I’ve never really been into Christmas n' shit”, Ellie shrugs her shoulders, “not really any holidays at all.”

I look at her, mouth wide open in disbelief. How does one live without ever watching Home Alone? “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do”, I exclaimed, excitedly. I get up from the couch and run over to my dvd shelf. A few seconds later I came back with three more movies for us to watch.

Our plan was to watch all the movies this afternoon but we soon lost focus. We talked for hours while “A Nightmare Before Christmas” repeatedly played in the background, we kept hitting “restart”, saying we were gonna actually watch it this time. Instead, we discussed the simplest of things, drinking tea and sharing Stevie and her warm fur on our laps. 

“Okay, I am not saying they're all dead”, Ellie’s out of breath laugh filled the room. To me, it seemed brighter all of a sudden, as if we had lit the third homemade scented candle of the day. “It’s just a probability, we wouldn’t even know”, she continued.

I threw my head back, laughing. “At least they’re voice actors, it wouldn’t be as weird. Could you imagine running into an infected that looked just like the girl from Pulp Fiction?” I shook my head, trying to erase the thought. “I think I’d pass out.” She laughed while shaking her head.

“You really do not like to fight, do you?” She grinned, teasingly. 

“I don’t think anyone does”, I replied. “Would you still do something like this if we were born before the outbreak?”

She nodded her head “no” without hesitating. I raised my eyebrow, wondering if she was going to elaborate. A moment later, Ellie continues: “Astronaut, I’d like to be an astronaut, maybe a musician.”

I smiled softly, she seemed to have previously thought about this. After a while I, too, respond: “I would like to be a writer, perhaps a teacher. I really like kids.”

I could see in her eyes that had softened her demeanor. She looked into the floor, smiling. “I think you’d be a great teacher, you’re all bubbly and… fucking gentle”, she stated. 

I looked into her, my eyes whispering “is that bad?”. She then gave me a smile that, to me, said “not at all”. Her slow approach asked “can I come close?” My worried gaze declared “this isn’t right”, but the sudden free will of my hands shouted a crystal clear “I object”. My left hand touched her right,I could finally feel the warmth of her fingertips. A good liar could pretend it was only a distasteful accident but I am as true as the sky is blue, so I trace the patterns on her index finger with mine until I could find rest in her palm.

Ellie moved her hand, she was going to hold mine with her palm. My heart is filled with anxiety when, as subtle as a lightning in a dark room, my mom bursts the front door open. “Merry Christmas”, she yells across the room to us with her welcoming smile. I don’t think it was honest.

Some minutes later, Ellie decided it was time for her to go. Mama insisted she took a piece of pie for Joel, so she did. The cold hugged my body as I opened the door for her and she quickly disappeared into the same blizzard she came from. 

[mojo-bro-tho]

Blood Sugar… Ch. 10

~Gonna be so real, a lot happened with me. Had a weird fall into a depressive spiral, got a promotion at my job, snagged Hozier tickets, cut four inches of my hair off in my bathroom sink with kitchen shears, bought the DATV art book and had to debate with the cashier if the game was good when they hadn’t played it yet… and now I have $3. I’m fine, it’s just been a WEIRD two weeks lol… Anyways! Have plot! So much plot!~

Tags: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

Word count: 11.9k (yikes but there are good places to stop reading and come back to later)

Content warnings: Bones, misunderstandings, and activities involving drugs

AO3 link!

Previous!

Deal

Molioris 20th.

Over three months ago…

Emmrich had found himself in the Necropolis much more often as of late. It was bitterly cold inside, as always, and so he continued to wear thick knit sweaters to work despite the beginnings of the summer heat waxing outside. White gloves covered his hands, empty of rings and bracelets which sat on the tray in the other room. Warm breath stuck to his face from beneath a mask wrapped around his ears. Glasses resting awkwardly against the top fold of disposable layers.

The skeletal remains were dotted across the table. Neatly organized by type and included delicate threads with paper labels wrapped around to designate placement. The neutral toned white light emanating from the flat surface poured into Emmrich’s vision. Measuring could take up several hours, even if they were only meant to be looking for a hand. It was best not to overlook any details. Something that wasn’t quite a sigh filled his ears.

“Can I be honest for a second, Professor?”

Franziska stood diagonal to him from the opposite side of the table. Her long, coffee hued hair pulled back into a ponytail with its ends tucked into the neckline of her own lab coat. Face was similarly obscured with dense, squared frames sitting high on the bridge of her nose. Pasque irises looked at him expectantly, yellow melting into the thinnest ring of purple.

“Always.” He replied. The earth tones of her sweater and trousers peeked through the gap of her coat as she shifted hesitantly.

“I’m starting to doubt my theory.” The carpal joint she had been examining was set back onto the lit table. Doubt was normal, he would listen.

“What makes you say that?”

“We’ve been at this for months.”

“Discovery requires understanding. Understanding takes time, Miss Ingellvar.”

“This is the seventeenth skeleton they’ve sent us.”

“Unfortunately, there is an order to these things. First we must rule out all incomplete remains currently under care before gaining access to any Lich Lords. We have time, so do not be discouraged.” He reassured.

Unfortunately, Franziska was still a student. Even with his clearance and influence, there was no way they’d allow her access to the displays without jumping through pointless hoops. Sure, he’d spent decades researching this very topic, and his work aided the discovery of several Lich Lords and their respective histories, including the Hand of Glory itself. But what did he know?

“Dr. Hezzonkoss says this has to be perfect or-”

“Forgive me, dear girl, but Dr. Hezenkoss is not the Department Head.” He looked up from the scapula he’d been inspecting. “You are doing just fine. Better yet, I believe you to be correct. And most would consider me an expert on this topic.”

Franziska went quiet, unease plainly written in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry…” It was said so quietly that Emmrich barely registered it. And when he did, it took him even longer to realize what she had actually uttered.

“Whatever could you possibly be sorry for?” When she did not respond, Emmrich approached to stand across from her, the length of the table still separating them. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Miss Ingellvar?”

“I’m sorry- sorry! I just-” Franziska took a shaken breath and a heavy step away from the remains. There was a slight tremor in her hand that she attempted to shake away, wrist cracking. “It’s a lot.” Emmrich paused, thinking how best to reply.

“If this is overwhelming for you, you are free to step away. I’m sure one of your peers could take up the burden if need be.”

His choice in Franziska had been a swift one. It was true that his students were all bright minded in their own ways, someone else could fill her role with research of their own. But, to be perfectly honest, he didn’t want someone else to take her place. Not unless it was at her behest. A discovery this monumental was exactly what they were looking for. And luckily for them, they had already done most of the groundwork for this study during the school year itself, before finding out about the Eluvian Foundation funding cuts. It was almost too perfect.

“I don’t want to step away. I’m just- a little nervous.” She thought to herself for a moment. “I don’t want to disappoint you guys. You, Dr. Hezenkoss, Myrna…” Ah, so that’s what it was.

“May I be candid with you for a moment?” He asked. Franziska looked back to him, nodding softly. “I don’t think there is a single thing you could do that would ever disappoint Professor Vogt-Siegel.” He’d always made it a habit of calling his colleagues by their titles while around his students. Even if one was the girl’s foster mother. “She is quite proud of how much you’ve accomplished at your age. As am I. And Dr. Hezenkoss, but we both know she’ll never admit that.” He jested.

Franziska chuckled solemnly. “Maybe…” The same motion from her hands again. At this point, Emmrich had spent enough time with her in the Necropolis to know that she always did that while trying to find the right words. “I guess I’m just worried that I’m wasting time. It was fine when this was just a project. But now it means something. It’s important to the school. And if I am wrong, what then?”

“Then we take what we can. Miss Ingellvar, in the past year alone you have provided more clarity to the Hand of Glory than anyone else in the last twenty years. You are handling this far better than you realize.”

Emmrich and Franziska, with some assistance from Johanna where she could, had worked hard on this. Even simply drawing the connection between the hand to the Banner Wars itself was a major accomplishment, and was no small feat on the young woman’s part.

And again, Emmrich was considered an expert on Lichdom. The high focus of his research for several decades. They could not have asked for a more serendipitous set of expertise. Though the Hand of Glory was preserved, its methodology was far from what he’d expected at such a late stage in Nevarra. That was part of the mystery.

Yet it had never occurred to him that the hand could have been a failed attempt at creating a Lich Lord. Not even once. It would be like seeing someone imitate another’s handwriting but using the non-dominant hand. And culturally it did not align with anything he had been taught or observed. In fact, Emmrich’s standing theory had always been that there likely was a brief period before the rise of the second Pentaghast Dynasty where the trend of mummification may have taken over. But there was little to confirm that as well.

It was Miss Ingellvar to first suggest a controversial alternative. Lich Lords crafted outside of the laws of Nevarra’s customs. Her reasoning for this? The discovery of it having had surgery performed on it. The Hand of Glory had been severed from its host posthumously, that was well known from the cut at the wrist. But the procedure performed to it, when the glove had finally been able to be removed, proved to have also been done after death.

Unfortunately for them, the bureaucracy of it all was proving to be rather time consuming. And the clock was ticking. First they must go through the process of eliminating every other set of preserved remains found within the last 10 years that could fit the carbon date, as no one has attempted to find a match for the hand since he and Johanna had stopped. A lot of careful measuring, weighing, searching for inaccuracies. Lich Lords were normally kept off limits, so they’d have to make due for now. It was better to push ahead rather than start from scratch with another student.

“That’s kind of you to say, Professor.” Franziska’s tone lightened. “I might also just be getting a little antsy because of the seminar. You really think I can do it?”

“Indeed, I do. It’s also an incredible opportunity to seek the audience of other academics! You will do marvelously, I’m certain of it.”

Johanna had to pull a lot of strings to allow Franziska to attend. Not only would it be an invaluable chance for the study to spread its focus to take in the perspectives of other experts, but it would also provide practice for the young woman.

Social finesse wasn’t something everyone carried, least of all naturally. And Franziska was less inclined towards it. Normally, that would be of no consequence. Academica was no stranger to introversion. In fact, most were. But for this to be successful, she would need to hold her own in conversation amongst her peers and elders in their field.

He was willing to assist if need be. As was both Myrna and Vorgoth. Johanna would be no help in that regard. In fact, having Johanna with Franziska was in itself somewhat of a strategic play. Johanna had no patience for needless fraternizing so by comparison, Franziska’s nervousness would more than likely be pinned on his colleague and she would be given more grace.

With a little guidance, they could all pull this off. They had all already come this far with unprecedented amounts of success. She would get recognition for all her hard work. Dean Alerion would have no need to worry about trying to find a secondary source of funding that simply did not exist to any of their knowledge. And Emmrich could continue teaching many students who were once a lot like him…

But that was the last conversation between Emmrich Volkarin and Franziska Ingellvar.

Before she dropped from the project.

Without a word as to why or any further warning.

…

Parvulius 15th.

Ten days since the mausoleum.

Five days after his office.

Tuesday evening…

“So… what happened after that?” Strife’s question was broken, taking a drink from his pint. The heel of Emmrich’s palm dug into his eye sockets with a sigh intruding at the mere thought.

“You mean after I explained it all to her or after I made a total fool of myself? Again.” Or perhaps they had both made fools of themselves. Another groan. He couldn’t see it on account of his eyes being closed, but Emmrich could feel the tight lipped, exacerbated look his friend was giving him.

“Knowing you? Both, because they’ll probably be connected somehow.” The glass thudded unceremoniously. “Look, Em, buddy.”

“Oh, please don’t ’buddy’ me right now, Strife. I know what that means-”

“How long have you even known this girl? Two months?”

Emmrich swallowed on his own tongue, moving his hands away. “Month and a half.”

“Creators. That’s even worse than when we got together.” He was unfortunately correct. Many, many years ago, when the two had first started seeing each other, it took at least three months for him to get this ‘mopey’. But that was before Manfred. And other things.

“I know, I know…” He picked up his glass. Normally, if he was going out he’d have a cocktail. But tonight was most definitely a scotch night. He sipped slowly.

“I’m really not trying to be judgemental here.”

“See, you say that but I can hear you judging me.”

“But… Let’s put the pieces together for a second, okay?” Strife readjusted in the bar stool and cleared his throat. “You’ve known her not even two months, she’s a sex worker, almost every time the two of you have seen each other has costed you real money because, again, she’s a sex worker that you’re employing. For something that isn’t even sex.” Emmrich winced. Strife narrowed his eyes with the slightest movement. “Don’t.”

“It wasn’t- Look- It’s complicated!”

“Emmrich, do you seriously hear yourself right now? How is this complicated?”

The dim lights around them did well to reflect just how snuffed Emmrich felt. Their seats at a table sequestered close to the corner gave them enough privacy to not have Emmrich feel too on edge about someone overhearing. But an amount of shame still crept up the back of his neck under his friend’s questioning.

“I don’t know how it became complicated.” Yes, he did. “But it is complicated, and I haven’t the faintest clue on how I’m meant to go about this.”

“And you think I do?” Strife asked with disbelief.

“Hopefully more than I! You were the one I got that blasted number from!”

“Yeah, I used it like… four times. Three of those times were like six years ago at this point, before their prices in Arlathan skyrocketed.”

“They raise the prices?” If an hour with Rook cost 1,000 Kings here, he dreaded to think about how much more that would be somewhere else.

“Oh yeah, they price based on popularity. You’re lucky you needed this now, they’ve only been in Nevarra for a couple years. Count your blessings that we don’t live in Antiva.” He took another drink. “The Crow I was with, Egret, he said he used to live there. Supposedly there was another Crow from his House called Cotinga, so popular that they started calling her ‘The Jewel of Antiva’. And he claimed a full night with her could cost more than 3,000,000 Andris.”

“Maker’s breath…”

“And people still paid. Can you imagine having that much money?” Strife shook his head. In fact, Emmrich could not. “But back to my actual point; I don’t know shit. And frankly, you’d hate all of my suggestions.” In came a small gap of quiet.

“Pray tell, what do you suggest then?”

“You’ve got to slow down. At least.” The immediate response made Emmrich bring his hands together. “Because you’re doing the thing again.”

“I am most certainly not doing ‘the thing’ again!”

Strife’s jaw clenched. “You said you two didn’t talk for almost a week because you got ‘too overwhelmed’ at The Memorial Gardens.” A look of realization passed over his face. “Wait, hold on, is that when it got complicated?” Emmrich narrowed his eyes.

“Now, you know I don’t kiss and tell. I’m a gentleman.”

“So you kissed?” He asked.

Quiet… Agonizing quiet. Emmrich looked down at his hands, fiddling with a ring as the stare grew more intense. He was already disappointed in his behavior at the Memorial Gardens but the realization of this only made it all the more gut wrenching. Another drink. Longer, to settle a handful more of the nerves.

“A gentleman doesn’t… do anything and tell. It’s impolite.”

“For fuck’s sake, Em. You’re already at level five of the thing!”

Emmrich would like to deny it further, but he couldn’t. Not only was it painfully obvious but he was also just too tired to try. And Strife was right. But it was easier said than done… especially with her. Strife let out a deep exhale.

“Look, I’m sure Rook is a really nice girl.”

”You make it sound so much worse when you call her ‘girl’.”

“Not my fault you’ve never asked her how old she is. She could be barely old enough to drink for all we know.” The sting of that made Emmrich want to crawl into a hole and be swallowed by the earth. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt to be more cautious, yeah? We don’t know what she’s really after here.”

Now it was his turn to give his friend a pointed look. Bracelets clatter against the round surface of the table between them to echo his disapproval. “She isn’t like that.”

“But you don’t know that.” He replied flatly. “I don’t want to make assumptions here. But when a… young person takes interest in someone our age, it’s a big responsibility. And it doesn’t help that you’re under contract. The whole point of them is to keep a division between the relationships. It’s a barrier for you both. I mean, seriously, how much do you really know about her?”

It was a fair question, and he had a point. Emmrich thought to himself for a moment. A slow smile crept up the corners of his lips, which did not go unnoticed by the man across from him. And his thumb incautiously ran across a line of skin on his opposite hand that was currently devoid of any markings. But had not been yesterday.

“She’s very curious. Says the strangest things. Kind but likes to pretend like she’s not-” A raised hand from Strife cut off his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what she’s like around you but what do you know about her?” The question caused Emmrich to raise a brow. “You don’t know how old she is but do you know her favorite color? Food she likes? You know, the normal things people try to learn about other people.”

Oh. Oh- Maker, what did he know about her? Certainly quite a bit, right? They’ve been talking to each other so much. Of course, there were the simple things. “Well, I know what she does for work.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Another drink. Emmrich thought to himself for a moment before continuing. And it was odd what his mind first drew towards.

“Classical music. Waltz.” There were certainly more obvious answers, but they weren’t what he thought of first. The expression on her face, the tapping of her hand, the slight shifts in her shoulder. He thought of that moment frequently. “There’s a specific brand of candy that she eats constantly. Lyri-Yum, blue-raspberry. Only eats the one flavor.” To keep her focused. “She prefers either to drink cappuccinos or will have just espresso, but likes chai.” The room’s sound began to dampen. Shadows growing heavy as the warm light saturated. “I know she used to live in Antiva, somewhere by the sea, and that she misses it but thinks Nevarra is beautiful too. I heard her real last name once by accident. When she wears boots she makes sure to step lighter. Draws on her sneakers, partial to hearts, lightning bolts, and flowers. I know she usually wears a safety pin in her ear when she has the ability to dress as she pleases…” There was a ghostly weight on his lap.

Rook loves her job. He knows that she worries about dating because of it. Worried about other people’s judgement. Not of herself, but of her partner if others knew what she did. Her eyes are beautiful. He knew she was a fast reader. Lavender hung like an omen in her sugary perfume when she was near. Isn’t afraid of death anymore. But once, and only once, he saw the fleeting expression of grief in her eyes. She had lost before.

And there was something Emmrich was positively certain of. No matter how little he knew now, he wanted to know more. Perhaps it was just a physical fascination at first. In The Lighthouse, he had been interested in that way. But in his moments of weakness, where he had ashamedly had more than one now, it was her unfiltered visage that always saw the void. It was a little death that lingered, fermented in its potency by being true.

“Emmrich?” Strife’s voice called him back, and the room that was once nothing more than a whisper became a crescendo of noise. The echo of her remained. Like a flame that could rekindle sight. Or the lightness of breath rising again in full.

“Ah… Apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment.”

“Shit, you really like her, huh?” The smirk on his face, slight but was a big reaction for him. Then his brow furrowed. “Wait, did you say you know her real name?”

Emmrich probably shouldn’t have admitted that. “I-” Maker, help him. “Yes. But it was completely unintentional.”

“Okay, so do me a favor. Do not say it or tell me what it is. Crows take that shit really seriously.” Something that wasn’t quite a hum rumbled in Strife’s chest. “That being said… Have you tried just looking her up?”

“Strife!” Hadn’t he just said that The Crows take priority in their employees' anonymity?

“What? Women do it all the time! Even I’ve done it. I’m not saying you should hire a P.I. or something. Just to see if she’s a real person.”

“I believe I would know if she were a ‘real person’ or not at this point.” It wasn’t as if a screen was separating them and he was relying on some rapturous hope that she even existed. He could touch her, hold her, far worse things had already transpired. Rook was agonizingly real.

“You know what I mean. Just do a cursory search. And if it’s only her last name, you probably won’t find much anyways.”

”I don’t think I can do that. It feels like a horrible invasion.”

“No one’s going to force you to do it. All I’m saying is that it might demystify her for you a little more. And maybe, if you take a look then you might feel less inclined to try and cancel again. You always get super antsy with people that you get invested in. It might take the edge off.”

Emmrich hated to admit it, but his friend did have a point. ‘The thing’, as Strife so eloquently referred to it as, came in many forms. He disliked the idea that his romantic habits were so noticeable that they had earned such an ominous nickname. Yes, he wanted to learn everything he could about a person, yes that sometimes came off as incredibly suffocating so he always had to try and stop himself from doing it, and then sometimes he would get freaked out by it so he’d try to pull away-

A sigh that ebbed on defeat broke his thoughts. Strife stared at him knowingly. “Alright. So, after you explained the whole Franziska situation. What happened?”

…

Parvulius 14th.

Nine days since the mausoleum.

Four days after his office.

Monday afternoon…

Rook sat on the hood of his car. She had waited for him in the parking lot, and did not ask if she could rest on the vehicle in that way. She simply did as soon as he stepped out. He didn’t have the heart to redirect her. But something about the act made his insides squirm. The thought of now settled, wind swept debris sullying her palms did nothing to deter her. He was by no means a germaphobe, but the sight was still deeply unsettling.

The sun was out, and she was doing her utmost to absorb what she could despite the cool breeze. The weight of autumn had been inching onward and now was beginning its sink into the earth. Perhaps now, she may take more care in wearing warmer clothes. No jacket today, or even a sopping wet cardigan that made him wish he had given her his umbrella. But her sleeves were long, just ill fitting with the sweater exposing both shoulders to rest on her biceps.

He stood on the sidewalk in front of her, to tell her what he could of his research with Franziska. There was a chance she just knew the library would be too quiet for his explanation. Remaining composed in the face and shoulders, but admittedly his voice had become far more animated while delving into the finer points. However, he always knew when to move on when Rook brought her lips together a little tighter.

His gaze briefly darted to the concrete by his bumper, where their bags sat beside each other in mock observation. Finally, when he was done speaking, she had asked if that was the end of it. Not coldly, simply curious. When he said yes, she crushed the candy she had been nursing between her molars.

“Okay, so let’s recap for a second…” The sweet shards crunched loudly a few more times before she continued. “You and Hezenkoss, like twenty years ago, found a severed, preserved hand in a partially hidden tomb. It’s a big mystery for that whole time, a bunch of people coming up with theories and stuff, and then Franziska, a student, just… figured out the whole thing?”

“I believe she uncovered the missing piece, yes. Stranger things have certainly occurred before.” It was a mild correction, but a vital one.

“And her working theory was that it was a ‘failed Lich’ from one of the Banner Wars? Are those things that you guys even have?” Her head tilted to the side in some amount of disbelief.

“Not as far as we know right now. But that doesn’t mean they’re impossible. We’ve just never seen any hard evidence of one.” There were of course, less than adequately kept Liches, but that was always as a result of time, not the actual performance of whomever committed the Rites. There were also different iterations of the rituals, slightly different techniques to the craft that oftentimes dated the Lich Lord themselves. But a ‘failed Lich’ was borderline unthinkable to most, even to Emmrich before working alongside Miss Ingellvar.

“Well… I guess I know what you meant when you said this was a sensitive subject. I’m still kind of confused though.” Rook fiddled with the stained stick, rolling it between her thumb and middle finger. “How the fuck was I supposed to help you prove this? It sounds like you three didn’t actually end up finishing it. I’m decently smart but not that much.”

”Firstly, I would like to say that I disagree that you aren’t capable of assisting. You have proven extremely clever, and you’ve picked up the information quickly. We’d likely be well on our way focusing more heavily on The Banner Wars by now if I hadn’t-”

“Tried to avoid me like the plague for a whole week?” She interrupted.

He had anticipated some amount of bitterness, yet received none. The battle inside him simply could not decide if he felt relief or guilt for that and so, continued to wage. Many things had been on his mind since their time in the gardens, and somehow even more after the wake of her having shown up in his classroom. So at times, he felt as though it was less of a traditional war; man against fellow man, and more of a crusade against nature. Spears and swords piercing a tormented sea, or firing arrows into a grim sky with the scent of ozone in the air. Entirely hopeless.

By no means would he say that Rook was not acting her usual self, but she did not seem as downcast as she had been on Thursday. The distance she had put between them had not gone unnoticed. And so came the other potentiality for her choice in location. It was simply less intimate.

“If it means anything to you, I regret having done so.” He confessed honestly. The last thing he had truly wanted to do was push her away. But sadly, that came with instinct.

“Yeah, me too.” With ginger care, Rook pushed herself off of his car. Boots softly connecting with the ground. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to feel about all of this. But a small smile played at one corner of her mouth. Slightly crooked but remarkably pleasing to be in the presence of all the same.

“I know you said you don’t want apologies.”

“Correct.”

“So for that, I will not give one. But I would like to reassure you that I have no plans of canceling further. If I can help it.” The promise made her shoulders relax, thankfully. “However, there are other things that require my repentance. Are… we going to talk about Saturday?” He was surprised that it hadn’t come up already. She had been quick to sweep him up into his tale, like trying to rip off a bandaid to possibly ignore the sting of a different cut. Rook shrugged.

“Don’t know. Haven’t decided yet.” In one swoop, she bent down low and snatched her bag off the ground. Quickly flicking the candy stick into a small plastic baggie inside. Then picked his own up with more care.

“We should.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re going to.” The longer strap of his satchel was laid against his shoulder passively. “What are you going to do? Tie me down and make me?”

His voice, ready to protest, caught in his throat. Why did she always have to say things like that when he was trying to remain composed? Her eyes narrowed on him, bottom lip caught between teeth as though she just heard a joke only she’d understand.

“Oh, you just thought about it, didn’t you?”

Emmrich blinked. “What?”

“You have very expressive eyes, you know that? It’s like I can see what you’re thinking in there.” Rook leaned in close, squinting and tilting her head. “Yeah, there I am. Looks like I’m… oh, my! Professor! From the ceiling? You scoundrel!” Heat spread across his face.

“If they are as revealing as you say, then you ought to see how serious I am.” He lightly chastised. Rook’s nose crinkled ever so slightly at the tone.

“Yes, of course, very serious. Professor Volkarin has a PHD in that very subject.” Her neck craned to peer up at him and made her earrings rattle against themselves. It was difficult for him to get a read on what was happening. This playfulness felt… unnatural. Emmrich pulled his satchel tighter to him.

“Miss de Riva, I hardly see that as a productive response.”

“Too bad. It’s the one you’re getting.” She looked towards his mouth, and he swore he saw her brow twitch for a millisecond. “Besides, I already told you before. If you’d prefer other uses for my mouth aside from bad jokes and smart-assed replies, you could always make that happen. It just costs extra.”

Except everything else hadn’t cost extra before. He checked his accounts again. Now she was the one avoiding it. Emmrich took a deep breath through the nose. “Then charge me extra today for forcing you to listen to something you’d prefer not to hear.” He began, watching Rook visibly retreat an inch with a confused expression. “The way I behaved towards you on Saturday was entirely unbecoming of me. And the way I spoke to you was even worse. That isn’t the sort of person I am.”

This had been one of the many things he’d wished to discuss with her while in his office last Thursday. He’d replayed that scene a hundred times in his head, and even now he was still abhorred by the words he’d used. Of course, the moment had been entirely spontaneous. He hadn’t exactly had time to plan anything. But that still left little excuse.

But when he dropped to his knees in front of her, he’d had every intention of acting as he expected himself to. Still being and doing exactly what he wished to. Kissed down her bare abdomen, taking far too much satisfaction in feeling and seeing the skin tremble as a result of his touch. It had been glorious.

In truth, he was bewildered by what came over him. When he pulled her down into his hold, into his lap, and she clung onto him and made those Maker-smite-him-down sounds in his ear… Crassness never suited him. But it was as if every intrusive thought he’d had clawed its way out from his throat. Or perhaps whatever cage sat at the pit of his stomach. Then again, she had called him a bastard first.

Rook raised a brow. “Oh? So you’re not normally a sadistic pleasure Dom? That was the vibe I got.”

“That isn’t what I’m referring to.”

“So you are a sadistic pleasure Dom?”

“Rook, please-”

“You know, you sure do beg a lot for a Dom. Maybe you really are more of a Switch then.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Whatever it was she was attempting to do, all she was accomplishing was making this more difficult. Perhaps that’s what she wanted but he couldn’t fully understand why. Just like he had in his office, his hands raised to cup either side of Rook’s face, one finger going above her ear while the other ran across the ridges of the different shapes of her earrings. Thumbs threatening to smooth over the long edges of her eyeliner.

“Stop.” He whispered. “Just listen to me for a moment. Please?”

Rook looked at him. Really looked at him. His hands warmed the cooled surface of her cheeks. The hum was back again, felt it needle into the soft space behind her ear lobes where the weight of gold became a feather’s touch.

One hand moved, cresting down to the curve of her jaw with the backs of fingers. Disturbingly, Rook… felt calm. These past few days had been a maelstrom of convoluted rage that didn’t feel like her own. Beneath her left sleeve was the trace of a bruise from where she’d had to jump a fence early Friday morning because of Jacobus doing little more than saying he was alive. And this whole situation with Emmrich pushing against the base of her skull hadn’t helped.

But this moment swelled with pipe organ again. And knowing that, being so terribly conscious of it, made it start to fade into an echo and aftertaste.

Damn the echo. Damn aftertastes. All metallic, salt, and muscle tensing. Creators damn that look that makes her eyes round at the bottoms like she’d never been held softly in her life. Damn it, damn it, damn it. The heart wrenching innocence of it. Making all the hollow spaces in her body be filled with something that she couldn’t see. Damn that feeling. And finding it difficult again in the moment to retrace the steps and words that led her to feel any differently than she had prior to this. Damn it.

Rook leaned into the palm that still held her cheek. His gaze was gentle, earnest, and wisened. Her own hand slid up his forearm until she could lace a finger beneath a thin, gold bracelet and guided the exposed sliver of skin on his wrist. A blue tinged tongue peeked and quickly slipped horizontally across the matching vein. The edge of her taste buds could sense the metal while the tip was all flesh and cologne.

It was a fast motion that made Emmrich’s fingers twitch and allowed Rook to pull the hand away by the bracelet. “Focus up, Volkarin.” She said with sharpened eyes. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to start getting the wrong idea.” With that, she released him, and took a much needed step back while turning on her heels. Emmrich’s entire arm felt like it had been licked by flames rather than muscle.

Maybe after she figures out this Jacobus situation she’ll be able to handle this. The only reason she didn’t try to cancel this appointment herself was the fact that she’d basically promised to be there. That and the fact that Viago promised he’d have other people on the lookout in her stead. And Bels came back today too… She promised to handle herself after.

“Come on, you need to give me reading recommendations. You’re lucky this is going to be a slower week, it’ll give me time to catch up.” She called out.

And follow he did. Honestly, it was scary how easily she could make his mind draw to a blank. With that and what he was trying to apologize for in mind, he feared what he would have done had she not pulled his hand away. Because before she had even grabbed his wrists, her lips had parted.

The two approached Blackthorn proper, with him trailing behind her not unlike a lost dog. The rise and fall of his breath became more manual as they crossed the green. Mr. Reisinger was at the desk once again. And just like last time, the moment he noticed Rook, a boyish grin crept up the sides of his mouth. He waved to her, and this time she responded in kind. An act he was entirely delighted by. Emmrich’s hand felt tense.

After that, Rook allowed him to take up the lead. Weaving them down a series of aisles where Emmrich was able to grab their next round of study materials. Because of his delays, they’d have to get more advanced than he’d originally planned in order to catch up. That meant more questions but at least this way they’d have a chance of not only getting caught up, but possibly even expediting their goal. And his companion had proven more than competent so he was at least confident that this wouldn’t be too terribly complicated.

She’d stayed quiet during this time. But the sense of her gaze never leaving his frame made his bones ache. The most gentle of dissections. Quiet as a mouse, aside from her jewelry and boots, but with hawkish eyes. Or perhaps they were more carrion than predatory. Yes, that felt more apt.

When they finally arrived at their table, Emmrich was set on getting his station together as swiftly as possible. They’d only have a little more than an hour today, but that was better than nothing. And then he noticed the fact that Rook was not emptying her supplies onto the space across from him, but beside him. He paused, watching her take out a notebook and a pen.

The professor stood there for some time. Gripping the back of his chair and observing the way she settled into her own. As though she’d always sat there. And he waited until her lavender eyes found his.

Rook’s words from before rang in his ears. Having nestled into the eardrum to seek acknowledgment and refuge. ‘Keep looking at me like that and I’m going to start getting the wrong idea’, huh? Was he looking at her differently? Acting differently, surely yes. But looking? And what even was the wrong idea? It suddenly occurred to him… What exactly had he been trying to accomplish with her? Twisted so heavily into knots, Emmrich wasn’t even sure.

He saw it in his peripherals, her legs shifting beneath her like she was catching some sort of rhythm he couldn’t hear. Or maybe he could feel it instead. Because his heart pattered in a painful melody that made him far too aware of how much breath he held.

He sat down. There was something in her eyes that caught his. A tenderness more akin to a wounded animal. He would not reach a hand out again, no matter how much he wished to. Didn’t want to presume after what happened before. Nor did he feel it appropriate given the revelation he’d just had.

Perhaps she had chosen to sit beside him to try and prod, but if that were the case then she clearly changed her mind. They simply sat beside one another. He pushed the textbook closer to her so that she may read directly if she wished.

The steady presence of her body heat close by, never overwhelming to his senses. Just there. In a low buzz or hum that felt soothing to his muscles. Just there. Just Rook. Just… them. And it felt far too wondrous.

Again, she was a diligent note taker. Just as he expected, she did have more questions but nothing too complex to warrant rambling. Short responses did well enough.

“I was told that you’re adding Hezenkoss to the contract.” She whispered, nothing having prompted the fact. His finger caught the page and held it steady as a somber sigh escaped his lungs.

“Yes. She asked to have a trial for your time on Friday. I thought you might prefer her to be in writing.”

“I do. Thank you.” Rook replied.

“If she gives you difficulties, you must tell me.”

“I can handle her, Emmrich. Don’t worry about it.” Voice a little lighter this time.

“Asking me not to worry is like asking me not to breathe.”

“Sounds like you have anxiety then.”

“Very astute, Miss de Riva. Though in my day, they simply called it a sensitivity and nothing more.” He remarked, only half joking. “But I do mean that. You must inform me if she gives you trouble. It isn’t fair for you to deal with her inclinations by yourself.”

“Oh? Inclinations, you say? Sounds frightening.”

“I believe she made three students cry last year.”

“Good thing she isn’t paying me to cry then.” Rook shrugged before leaning in close to speak close to his ear. Well, it was more into his shoulder given how she was leaning but still. “Are you worried she’s going to hurt my feelings or that she’s going to start stealing my time away from you.” She teased, this time it did earn a chuckle. This was familiar. It felt less forced.

“Hardly worried about that. Though, if I had had it my way, I hoped to be able to teach you entirely myself.” Emmrich admitted.

“Called it. I knew you were the jealous type.” An elbow nudged him on the arm as she leaned to rest against the table.

“It’s not a matter of jealousy, Miss Rook.” He took a deep breath, thinking to himself for a moment. A hand came up to smooth over his mustache. “Johanna is a brilliant woman. There is no question of that. But she’s… Maker, how do I put this?”

“A total, raging bitch?” The comment made Emmrich recall how brief their friendliness had been to one another.

“You would not be the first person to use that phrasing.”

“But you wouldn’t?” Rook asked.

“Not unless I had other words at my disposal. Which I tend to. And after the stunt she pulled before, I would have sooner asked her not to get involved. I did attempt to dissuade her though. Which is why Friday is merely a trial.”

“Yeah, my Handler said she’d only be listed as twice a month for now.” In the back of her mind, Rook wondered who came up with the moniker for Johanna. It had to have been him. Gloam wasn’t exactly a word in Viago’s repertoire so the professor was the likely culprit.

Emmrich reclined deeper into the chair, there was a very real possibility he’d never been more grateful to stop studying in his life. The way she was speaking, he could handle it. He just… had to be extra careful with his words. Even more so than usual.

“If we are lucky, she will realize her intervention is not necessary. She forgets that we both learned the same things once upon a time. Though she was right before, I’ve neglected that side of our work.”

“Got any advice on how to deal with her then, I guess?” Rook extended her right leg for a mild stretch. Stupid fence jumping.

Oh, advice was plentiful. “She doesn’t like answering questions. If it isn’t something too important just write it down and ask me later. Hates follow up questions even more. Banter is fine so long as it doesn’t detract from the lesson. If you don’t look her in the eyes then she’ll get annoyed-”

“Fuck’s sake, what is this? A hostage negotiation?” Rook muttered. It certainly felt that way sometimes, Emmrich thought to himself. She already assumed her and Hezenkoss wouldn’t be affable in the same way she was with Emmrich after what happened. But Creators, that seemed excessive. He sighed again, its tone laced with an apology.

“As I said, if she gives you a hard time, I need to know. If it becomes too much, I’ll handle it.” If he wasn’t worried about Johanna going so far as to follow him to his own appointments, he would have kept her out of it entirely. This was a compromise. Rook nodded, allowing him to continue deeper into the text.

The Banner Wars were incredibly complex, and Emmrich was well acquainted with a multitude of ways for how to memorize its order. He could provide visual materials on Wednesday. Between bouts of writing, he caught Rook drawing small flowers into the margins of her page. Had she always done that? New or the first time he’d noticed it before? She had similar doodles on her shoes on Thursday-

The library had been deathly silent, until a voice cut through it. In reality it was moderate in volume but given the hushed atmosphere it might as well have been a scream. “Yo, Jac, Tomas still sick?” The voice questioned. And Rook instantly raised her head. A shushing sound followed.

Her eyes were wide. Did the voice belong to someone she knew? Only a heartbeat passed before she was on her feet, rushing towards the center balustrades and ducking low to peer down into the lower floor. Emmrich couldn’t make out what she was looking for but his brow drew together at the suddenness of whatever was happening. So rather than make a futile attempt to follow her line of sight, he watched her instead. Worry turned into recognition, then relief… and then melted into fury.

Back to her full height again, she passed by Emmrich once more in a near run. Near because if she allowed herself to truly pick up the pace then the sound would carry and the last thing she needed right now was to draw attention to what was happening. If what she thought was happening was actually happening, which it better not be or else her Creators and his fucking Maker help Egrativi. Both of them.

Rook left everything behind. Everything aside from what she was wearing. Notes, phone, keys, Lyri-Yums. For a moment, Emmrich froze. What just happened? The sound of her boots was muffled but audible. He checked the time. They still had around twenty minutes… should he wait? What if it was an emergency? Judging from the look on her face, it certainly seemed like one. Deep breath. Is it a breach of privacy to put someone else’s things away?

Her heart was thundering in her chest. Nails digging into the meat of her palms. By the time she made it down the steps, she saw a figure about as tall as her going out the front door. Wearing a jacket too big for him. White with a thick red line running across the back. He better not be doing this. Someone said something, probably to her, but she didn’t hear it. The closer she got to the exit, the faster she allowed herself to be. And the moment her body stepped out, greeted by the large steps that led to Blackthorn, Rook turned to the right where she saw that little bastard dart off to.

Then took off into a painful sprint. He was cutting across the green to try and disappear into the parking lot. Not on her watch. There weren’t as many people outside today. “Egrativi!” She bellowed. And he turned to face her with fear mingled eyes.

Emmrich felt as though he should be in a bit of a hurry. So rather than put on his coat, he draped it across his arm. And instead of putting the books away where he knew they went, he found the nearest cart and sat them there. The unfamiliar weight of Rook’s messenger bag strewn over his shoulder made him feel off balance despite it not being heavy in the slightest. Well, it was heavier than it ought to be given the state of it, but still. Part of him worried if he simply pulled at it the wrong way then it might tear to shreds.

He followed the path he’d just barely caught Rook taking. But by the time he got down the stairs she was already out the door. He didn’t run, just made long, quick strides to try and catch up. As he neared the front desk, Mr. Reisinger shot him a confused expression. Which sadly, Emmrich would have to ignore. He knew probably as much as the professor did about what was happening. Which was nothing.

Crisp air danced across his face once he found himself outside. He didn’t see which direction she went. He debated for a few seconds on where to turn when the sound of her voice boomed to his right. “Egrativi!” Well, that certainly narrowed it down for him.

By the time he rounded the corner of Blackthorn, Emmrich was thankfully greeted by the sight of Rook in the distance. Although she was not alone. Someone stood in front of her, both of their profiles visible and growing in detail as he approached.

The boy was many years older than Manfred, but he was very much still a boy even if Emmrich was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Couldn’t be older than 16 at most. But like Manfred, the boy sported pitch black hair. Just cropped short and straight as opposed to his son’s loose curls. He was around the same height as Rook herself but seemed smaller thanks to the boots. The white jacket he wore appeared far too large for his slight frame.

Emmrich debated on if he should continue. They were too far away from where he was for him to make out what they were saying. But if he had to guess, Rook was dominating the conversation. Her mouth moved fast, arms and legs going at an emphatic pace while the boy made short responses and stayed almost totally still.

Perhaps Emmrich should just observe, at a distance. Whatever was happening very clearly wasn’t meant for his ears, even watching from afar felt to be some sort of intrusion. But he couldn’t find it in himself to look away either. Because the look on her face called not only for the boy’s attention, it screamed for Emmrich’s .

Rook’s fists caught the front of the jacket, jostling it about as opposed to the boy himself. And wordlessly, he began to slip it off. She assisted in removing the coat from the boy, and once the article had freed his arms, Rook wound it up between hers as if she were trying to hide it.

At that moment, it was as though the entire world shifted. Tilting at an unnatural angle that somehow made his spine straighten. As if he had been walking with a limp his whole life only to just now be made upright again. Rook reached out to the boy, running the backs of her fingers across his cheek. Almost afraid to touch him with anger driven shoulders raised in juxtaposition to the gentleness she displayed. Stilling for a second before pulling him into a hug.

Had this been the first time he’d seen her genuinely interacting with another person besides him? No, there were the young men. And there were those quick blips with Mr. Reisinger. The passerby at the Memorial Gardens. But it was clear she knew this boy. Cared deeply. Some part of Emmrich wondered if they could potentially be siblings. Half-siblings? The shape of the boy’s ears wasn’t clear, so he considered that perhaps the slightest point at the tips could be another similarity he shared with the professor’s son. Though, they didn’t seem to look too alike in the face for him to consider that theory for very long.

When Rook parted from the boy, then looked to either side of herself, head pointed towards the ground. She turned in a circle. Searching. And soon enough, her line of sight darted up to find Emmrich silently waiting.

She must be looking for her bag… He carefully moved the strap from his shoulder and into his hand before holding it in aloft presentation. Even from so far away, Emmrich could see how the boy’s expression steeled upon noticing him. He said something to her, something that made her turn back with a snap and a disapproving wave of her hand. Then she started to jog in Emmrich’s direction.

It would’ve been rude to not at least meet her halfway. His shoes pad across delicately slick grass. The boy did not follow her, choosing to stay at a distance with crossed arms. Interestingly enough, the soberingly tired expression on Rook’s face as she approached was not what caught him off guard.

It was the smell. He kept his gaze on Rook’s face, but the scent hadn’t been there before. And she was still holding the jacket. He had worked long enough at a university, let alone once been a student at said university, to know exactly what that was. It’d be best to pretend not to notice. But a twinge of nervousness crept through his fingers, recalling again just how young the boy seemed to be. Suddenly, the obvious anger she showcased began to make a lot of sense. Including the reason she forced the jacket away.

“I believe you forgot something.” He said, sporting a pleasant, unassuming smile.

“Emmrich, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to run off like that, I just didn’t want to lose track of him and-” She began in an anxious huff that Emmrich was well familiar with, just not from her.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He reassured before presenting the messenger bag. She took it with a groan foaming at the corners of her mouth.

“Thanks…”

“Relative?” He probably wasn’t allowed to ask that, but the tilt of Rook’s head was not laced with objection. Just curiosity. “The boy.” The professor clarified, looking up to find said boy turned away from them now. Rook huffed an annoyed chuckle.

“No. And I’m sure he thanks his lucky stars for that every single night.” She leaned further onto her left boot.

“You seem to care for him as though he were one.” That was plainly obvious to him.

“Yeah, well, he’s a family friend. Kind of. And a total pain in the ass sometimes.” It was impossible not to be at least a little amused by her weariness. “I swear, that boy is going to make me go grey any day now.” Usually, Dareth was actually the one that made Rook worry. But Jacobus had his moments too. Just never any this bad until now.

“Ah.” The easing tension of her shoulders was also an understood sight. It would seem he’s not the only one with a lot on his plate. Her eyes widened.

“Not that going grey is bad or anything! I mean, it doesn’t suit everyone, I guess, but you wear it really well! Looks good, on you, specifically… And I’m going to shut up now, I think.”

The rambling made Emmrich’s heart briefly stutter. Was she nervous? Rook? “I’m glad to hear you think so. I suppose it usually is a sign experience. Which you so boldly claim to have an affinity for.” Oh, he couldn’t help himself. Not after she had just anxiously babbled a compliment towards him. It was an innocuous enough jab, but Rook sputtered out a quiet laugh all the same.

“Oh, Emmrich, you know me so well.” A deep breath in. “Okay. I just have to give Jacobus my keys, then we can go back in.” That made Emmrich’s brow furrow.

“Go back in?” He asked.

“Yeah. You still have like… twenty minutes, I think.” Was that seriously what she was worried about?

“I’m hardly concerned about missing time, especially less than a half hour. And it’s rather apparent that this is an emergency.”

“But you paid for two hours. You get two hours. And we’re already falling behind so every minute counts.” She argued.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I was the one who put us in that position in the first place.” His hands folded behind his back. “And your thoughts would be rather preoccupied if we were to continue. Can’t have that.”

It was a practical reason to be certain. But his tone dawdled with knowing empathy. Rook’s eyes, Maker’s breath, her eyes were beautiful like this. The way they were when his mind was left to wander, where the edges of bliss met with perplexion but were coaxed apart by something that pierced him like a knife. Affection. Undeniable affection that not even the litany of cynical snips in his mind could trim away. The more he saw it, the more irrefutable it became.

“But… we were in the middle of reading.”

“Reading that can be continued on Wednesday. Where we will have another two hours together with clearer heads. It’s alright to leave it for now.”

“If you’re worried about me not focusing, I’ll be just fine.”

“Rook.” His tone precluded a warning. How often would he have to say her name this way? “If I say something is alright, I mean it. Genuinely. You should turn your attention to him. I believe he may require it more than I.” As much as Emmrich would sincerely like to take up more of her time, as much of it as he could, if what he believed was happening was true then… Well, indeed the boy would need guidance. Or perhaps a well intended lecture. Whatever got the point across.

Rook looked quickly over her shoulder. Jacobus was still facing the other direction. One hand slipped into her bag. A pithy glimmer of tangible fear creased at her nose, as though grappling with a decision she was riskily making. “Give me your hand.” She whispered.

Emmrich quirked a brow at the command, but did not deny it. Holding out his right palm, Rook was quick to take it, lightly shifting her position as she did so. Entirely intentional. With her posed at this angle, the boy in her care wouldn’t see what she was up to if he were to look their way again. That thought nipped at the professor long enough to lose focus on Rook’s troublesome hands. Until he felt his wrist turn and something pressed into him, close to the thumb.

There was a ballpoint pen fixed between her fingers. Black ink stretching in a neatly traced line, the dull pressure slightly uncomfortable against his skin. After a moment, she pulled her hands away to reveal-

Maker preserve him.

“Text me what we’re working on. Page numbers too. I can try making up for lost time.” The pen dropped back into the bag but Emmrich’s wide eyes never left the dark string of numbers. What if he moves and smudges it? The thought made him stand perfectly still. “But you know, don’t tell anyone I gave you that. Not that I think you would, you’re not the type but… Are you alright?” The question made Emmrich’s gaze snap up to hers again. If she noticed the way he held his breath, and the wrinkles near his eyes seemed to deepen with dread, she did not say so.

“I’m perfectly well.”

“Ah, I’d say that’s better than moderately well then. Don’t forget to text me.” Another couple of heartbeats passed before he could respond.

“I shall not forget.”

“Good! Then I’ll see you Wednesday, Emmrich.” And with that, Rook was hurrying back towards the boy.

Instinctively, Emmrich moved the hand behind his back. Trying to hide it. Either from anyone who might deign to look at him or from himself, he couldn’t be sure. She definitely wasn’t supposed to give him that. But it was written on his skin, as sure as he had skin at all. She gave it to him. Didn’t need to. It could have waited. Books, pages, words, all condensed into six hours a week. She didn’t have to.

He watched them disappear, cresting over the hill and turning down onto a residential street. The moment they were out of sight, Emmrich’s strides became less well structured to make it back to his car in time. Once inside, the door slammed loud enough to feel the pressure of air whiff at his face. And suddenly breathing felt like a privilege.

…

Parvulius 14th.

Monday afternoon…

“Yo, Jac, Tomas still sick?”

Heiner winced at that. Armin’s voice carried throughout the library, and reflexively the older brother shushed him from behind the desk. He spared only a passing glance to the boy his brother was talking to. He had been here last week too, on Wednesday. Armin said something about Jacobus being a classmate’s younger brother who was picking up notes and stuff. But the kid sure had a weird way of dressing. Baggy clothes may be ‘on trend’ right now, but the jacket just seemed impractical and excessive.

Armin’s friends; Neid, Felix, and Caius all perked up from their ‘hideaway’ between the aisles on the first floor. Heiner usually didn’t mind them being around. Usually. Sometimes they got rowdy and distracted Armin from his volunteering. Why his kid brother decided to go into humanitarian work and not expect to fulfill certain amounts of time for community service, he had no clue. But they listened just enough to Heiner to fuck off and go outside when it got too out of hand. Not like they had nothing to do out there just yet, skateboards and ice didn’t mix but there were still a few months left before the snow would set in. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

“Yeah, he is.” Jacobus replied with a clipped tone.

Felix waved him over to the aisle, they seemed familiar with him too. The group gathered around the boy with friendly smiles on their face, patting the boy’s shoulders. Heiner looked back to the computer, not particularly interested in conversations kids had nowadays. They all chatted for a minute or so before Armin handed him a thin, neatly folded stack of loose leaf pages, just enough to not have the money folded inside be visible. Then subtly trading it for a small baggie hidden up Jacobus’s sleeve. Neid was the one to take it, as he was still the most obscured from the desk.

Unbeknownst to them however, was the fact that they were still visible from the ledge over the second floor. Where a pair of eyes observed the interaction carefully with gritted teeth. Jacobus stepped back out into the light. “Thanks, man. I’ll tell Tomas you guys said hi.”

Heiner’s eyes flicked up to watch the boy nonchalantly shove the papers in his jacket pocket. Little brothers were going to ‘little brother’, right? Armin and his friends hung around the aisles in a cluster. Whatever, there wasn’t much for him to do anyways. A few moments passed before he heard the faint noise of boots carefully speeding down the stairs. He looked up to find Rook.

Not too unusual, it was around the time she normally left anyway, maybe just a little early. Except she was leaving first… Also not that strange, he supposed she had done that before but… She didn’t seem to be carrying any of her things. Her brows were fully drawn together into a scowl, and as she drew near, Heiner attempted to flag her down.

“Hey, Rook, are you alright-” But she fully ignored him, darting out the door with a rage full expression. So, not alright, got it. Damn, he’d been hoping to talk to her after her tutoring was done. It had been a while since she came in last, he was curious to see what she’d been up to. And to tell her that her sweater looked nice. The off the shoulder look was cute, and the little ribbons tied off at the sleeves. Maker, he just needed to ask her out already.

Less than a minute passed before he noticed someone else going down the stairs in a hurry. Professor Volkarin? Now Heiner was even more confused. As the professor rounded the steps, he noticed that he was also carrying an extra bag on his shoulder. Rook’s bag. A pinch of unease and worry jabbed at Heiner’s side. First she leaves in a rush and a less than ideal mood and now the professor is chasing after her with a clearly concerned look?

Oh no, did something happen? An emergency? The professor spared him little more than a glance. Whatever it was must have been bad then. Bad enough to warrant her leaving her bag behind and having Professor Volkarin chase after her. Hopefully Rook was okay and it was just a false alarm. Looking back towards Amrin, Heiner found his brother and his friends gawking at what just happened. Caius whistled lowly.

“Looks like trouble in paradise.” He clicked, the group slowly gathering back towards the desk to follow Armin, who gave his friend an incredulous look.

“I don’t think you know what that phrase means.” Armin chuffed.

“I know what the fuck it means, Reisinger.” Caius slapped Armin on the arm with the back of his hand.

“Dude, she was pissed. I wonder what he did.” Felix muttered. “Wait, shit, did we not tell you about that?” Armin shrugged in response.

“I thought I did… Do you remember like a month ago, there was that girl we told you about? Super hot, kind of goth-ish? And she had the sugar daddy or something? That was her.”

“Damn, for real?” Armin chuckled knowingly. “No wonder she turned you down, you didn’t stand a chance.”

“And that was the sugar daddy.” Felix added. Heiner went still.

“What the fuck? When you said he was older, I thought you meant like 30s, not fucking decrepit.”

“How many guys ‘in their 30s’ do you know who can afford that?” Neid jabbed back.

”I don’t know, not like you guys ever know what you’re talking about. I thought you were making up the sugar daddy part.” Armin responded.

“Ye of little faith.” Caius sighed. As his brother circled behind the desk, Heiner decided to interject.

“I wouldn’t listen to them, Armin. Sounds to me like they’re just bothered that she wasn’t interested and decided to jump to conclusions.” His comment made his brother chuckle. Yeah, there was no way. Rook wasn’t like that. And Heiner still remembered what it was like to be an insecure, little shit, teenager. Wanting to blame everyone but themselves. But Neid stifled a snort.

“Uh huh, sure. Lot of different ways to take him feeling her up on the stairs. Super open to interpretation.”

Heiner looked to Neid, then glanced between all of Armin’s friends. Just to make sure they weren’t trying to fuck with him. And was horrified to see that they were being serious. “Well, I guess she might not be in it for the money. But that doesn’t change a whole lot.” Armin theorized, looking up at the ceiling boredly.

“No way, did you see how much gold he wears? He’s for sure paying her.” Felix shook his head.

“Or maybe he’s getting serious and she isn’t! He was calling her pet names and all that crap. Think if I go out there and find her while she's still mad at him I’d have a chance?” Caius asked sarcastically.

Heiner stood up, the swivel chair rolling a bit behind him as he went to lean over the desk. Dropping his voice into an even softer whisper with narrowed eyes. “Are you absolutely sure it was them?” He asked.

“Oh yeah.”

“Positive.” And instead of fully replying, Neid just hummed affirmatively as Felix continued. “She sticks out like a sore thumb, so.”

“Yeah, but what about the guy?” Heiner pressed.

“Same one. Dude wears a lot of jewelry. Even more than old people usually do.”

This… didn’t make sense. Rook and Volkarin? Heiner took a step back, running a hand through his hair. It was true that the professor was pretty hard to mistake for anyone else. And Rook was, well, Rook. But ‘feeling her up on the stairs’? Pet names? From how he and Rook talked to each other, she didn’t really seem like the ‘materialistic’ type. She carried around a bag practically falling apart at the seams, and he’d seen her phone too. That thing was like two generations older than his. He was surprised it even still worked.

It didn’t really make sense. So that meant it probably wasn’t true. But Neid, Felix, and Caius weren’t really liars either. Just teenage jack-asses. So if something was going on, then maybe Armin was right and it wasn’t about the money-

Oh, fuck.

[tiramizuloz]

December's encounter

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December’s harsh breath stings on her face and ears. No matter how many layers of clothing she has on herself, it still feels like she’s naked and the wind is blowing on her bare body. She stepped forward towards the front door. 

Contemplating whether she wants to go in. She doesn’t know why she agreed to come. Now she needs to hang out with three guys she has never seen and two that well... she’s forced to talk to. Taking a deep breath, she finally presses on Hinata's contact and calls him.

ding.. ding.. ding..

“Hello?” he yells at the phone, his voice is muffled by loud rap music.

“Hi, Hinata. Can you come and get me? I’m outside.”

“Uh.. yeah! Yeah! Someone is going there. Bye!” he hurriedly says and closes the phone call

She’s confused by his words but waits patiently for someone to come and get her. She sees a tall guy approaching her. He had black hair and the prettiest blue eyes. He was wearing a frown on his face and was visibly cold.

“Uh.. hi?” she says to the guy that’s now in front of her. “Where is Hinata?” the guy looks away and mutters “He’s busy talking to all the guests” she nods and her brows furrow “So there are more than five people up there?” he huffs “There are more than 20 people in there” she tries to hide the shock on her face so she only nods “Oh.. alright. Let’s go..?” He nods and starts walking away.

Tsukishima’s words now make sense. This was not a little hang-out, it was a whole ass party. Great.. now Hinata and Bokuto will probably be too busy talking to all the other people and this blue-eyed guy doesn’t seem to like talking to me that much. I’m stuck by myself or..

“Hey what’s your name?” her voice flowing through the elevator they had just entered.

“Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio.” he answered with a monotonous tone in his voice.

“Nice! I’m L/n Y/n.” he hums at her answer and keeps looking at nothing.

The elevator dings and he steps out. ” Come on. We’re here”. She follows after him. He opens one of the apartment doors and steps inside. She tries to go after him, but he gets lost in the crowd of people. 

This place was annoying. Loud music and chatter can be heard from everywhere, she’s resisting the urge to put her hands over her ears. The place was full of people drinking and dancing. Her eyes seemed to catch a certain redhead, and she walks over to him.

“Oh Y/n Hi!! Welcome. Sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up. Was kinda busy recording Bokuto and Kuroo drinking a mix of vodka, tequila and milk” he laughs and points at Bokuto and a guy that’s supposedly Kuroo.

She hums “It’s okay. Where can I get a drink from?�� “The kitchen is right there! There are tons of alcohol you can choose from. We have vodka, tequila, red wine, white wine and more.” his pointer finger pointing at where the kitchen is. 

“Thank you, but are there any non-alcoholic drinks? I don’t drink so..” she awkwardly laughs. Hinata looks a bit shocked and with the corner of her eyes she can see Bokuto and Kuroo looking at her.

“Oh uh. I’m so stupid, sorry. Obviously, you won’t drink alcohol.  Uhm we have water and orange juice.” she raises a brow at his words and nods “Okay. Thanks” she says this and immediately walks away to the kitchen. 

A couple is making out on the counter, and she can see a few guys chatting in the corner of the kitchen. She makes her way to the sink, grabs a cup and fills it with water.

She leans on one of the counters away from everyone and fills her throat with the cold liquid she just got. With the corner of her eyes she could see the group of guys from earlier coming closer to her.

“Hii, Y/n!!” an unexpected voice said. She can recognize him. He’s Atsumu. The guy who’s always with Sakusa. “What brings you here?” he asks. “Hinata and Bokuto invited me.” His eyes are wide and he laughs “Those two? How do you know them?” she narrows her eyes at him “I’m their math tutor.” 

He starts laughing, and the surrounding guys are giggling. “Of course they will invite their tutor to a party.” he continues “And of course they’re failing their math class”

“That’s rich coming from you! Aren’t you failing your math class as well, Atsumu?” she says with a teasing tone. His face becomes blank and he huffs “Yes! But..! My grades are higher than theirs.” “Mhmm” he pouts “Ay you little-!”

“Atsumu, why are you surrounding the poor girl?” a clear voice can be heard from behind. Atsumu turns around “I was just joking around!” A guy with black hair and blue eyes shakes his head. Beside him are standing the Kageyama guy from earlier and a guy with a pudding-looking head.

“C’mon she’s Hinata and Bokuto’s guest. Be a little nicer. She didn’t even do anything to you.”  “She bumped into Atsumu’s boyfriend” a guy with narrow eyes teasingly says “AY! That has nothing to do with the situation, Suna!” Atsumu yells “Are you sure?” 

While everyone is distracted, she goes out of the kitchen and goes to the living room. The couch is empty, so she sits on it. She’s thinking whether she should text her friends or not, but she quickly discards the idea.

Sighing, she lets her head fall onto the couch and she closes her eyes. “Uhh…hey! Are you okay..” she opens her eyes and sees Kageyama. “Hi! I am!  I’m just a little tired. I’m not really a party person, so all this loud music makes my head hurt.”

 He sits beside her, but keeps his distance. He hums “I understand. Hinata and the others always make me go to their parties. The only people that are saving me are Kenma and Akaashi, but it’s kinda awkward talking to them."

"Mmm..Hey Kageyama? Want to exchange numbers?” he looks at her with a puzzled expression. “Uh. Sure?” he grabs his phone from his pocket and puts it in front of her. She takes it and types her phone number. “It’s getting late, I should probably go home.” he presses his lips into a thin line.

“Can I…” he gulps down and looks away “Can I walk you home. ‘Cuz it’s getting dark, and you know… it’s dangerous.” she smiles, “That would be nice, Kageyama.”

taglist: @cupidsblonde @diorzs @grassbutneo @vrxouei @ilobeumegum1 @soobin1437

a/n: OMG THEY FINNALY MEET🤩

© tiramizuloz all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

[torntrianglesleeves]

Those Phone Calls, Pt. 2

Read part 1 here

Second Call

It’s been three weeks. Several times a day, several days each of those weeks, Mike tried to call to no avail. Thankfully he gets through

Joyce: Hey, hello, who is this?

Mike: Hi Mrs. Byers, it’s Mike. Is Will there?

Joyce: Mike! Oh, sweetie, how’re you doing? 

Mike: I’m good, I’m good. Uh–

Joyce: You know, Will keeps saying you two are gonna play DnD over the phone? I dunno how that’s gonna work, but you boys always make things happen!

Mike: Oh, he mentioned that? That’s so crazy. Um, listen if he’s not around that’s cool, I can call again later

Joyce: Michael, you called at the right time, actually. I just finished my shift so you two can play telephone the rest of the evening if you want. I’ll get him right now.

Mike: Uhh, thanks, Mrs. Byers.

Will grabs the phone from his mother

Mike: Will?

Will: Hey Mike!

Mike: Hey! How’s, uh, stuff? California stuff?

Will: It’s fine, I guess. It’s so sunny here. I feel like I’m getting a tan? But I’m also burning a lot so I’ve been wearing more layers, but then I get hot so I’m kinda just shit outta luck.

Mike: Damn, maybe I shouldn’t visit 

Will: Why would you say that?

Mike: I’m kidding! You remember what I look like, I’m paler than a ghost. I’d probably incinerate the second I step off the plane.

Will: Not if I cast protection

Mike: Hey, so long as you roll well I should make it, right?

They smile within the silence

Will: How’s Hawkins? Any news, gossip?

Mike: No, nothing interesting for once. Lucas and Max are kind of a thing again, but then they kind of aren’t. It’s weird

Will: I bet. I mean, with everything that happened at the Mall, and Billy…

Mike: Yeah. It’s unconscionable. I feel like Max is taking on too much responsibility for it, you know? But it’s not her fault an interdimensional shadow monster murdered her brother. But, because of that too, I feel like Lucas doesn’t really know how to help her. Doesn’t really know what to say

Will: I feel like I wouldn’t know, either. Sometimes we blame ourselves for things even when they aren’t our fault. We say things we don’t mean, we wish we’d done more…I wanna tell her, like ‘it’s not like you could have stopped the Mind Flayer, Max!’ But, maybe she wishes she had tried anyway

Mike: Wishes she coulda done something about it. Said the right thing, got Billy to break free.

Will: Just like how you guys helped me.

Mike’s breath catches

Mike: I don’t know if it would have worked for Billy, though. He wasn’t like you. I don’t know really anything about his life, but I bet people who should have been there for him, weren’t. And then he became the asshole he was.

Will: Maybe, but there still could have been a chance, I think. Maybe part of Max thinks we gave up on him. Imagine if you guys gave up on me…

Mike: Don’t ever say that, Will. I would never have let that happen

Will: I–I know. 

They grow quiet again

Will: You there, Mike?

Mike: Yeah, yeah. I was just thinking

Will: Yeah, me too

Mike: What are you thinking about?

Will sounds like he’s sniffling

Will: It’s hard to remember everything that happened back then, when the Mind Flayer…had me. I try not to ever think about it, really

Mike: Then don’t, not if it hurts too much

Will: No, it’s okay. I feel like right now I kind of can, again. I feel okay.

Mike: Promise?

Will: Yeah, I promise…I remember how it felt, mostly. It was like the worst part of the now-memories, but instead of looking at the slides I was the paper around them. The frame, but not the picture. But…

Mike: Take it easy Will

Will: I’m okay. I wanna talk about it.

Mike: Okay

Will: I still remember how it all felt. This light around me, this warmth I felt in my chest even though the Mind Flayer wanted everything to be so cold. And I remembered us

Mike: Yeah?

Will: Yeah. It’s silly, but, that little bit of me inside remembered the day we first met. I was on the swings by myself. I tried playing with every other kid in kindergarten but they didn’t want to be around me. I was all by myself, until you showed up, and you asked me to be your friend. I remember, you had such a funny haircut that day. I think you’re mom tried cutting you’re hair but knowing you, you probably squirmed too much! I said yes, though. I dunno why I remembered it, but…I’m glad I did. 

Mike has gone quiet, and Will hears quick breaths and sniffling

Will: Mike? Are you okay?

Mike: Y-yeah, yeah, sorry. Um, I gotta go Will. I’m sorry.

Will: Oh, okay. Bye, Mike

[kendrene]

🥺🥺🥺 first snow for avatrice?

Beatrice wakes to an absence of warmth.

A Novice’s room is hardly ever warm, but there is a sharpness to the chill of the early morning air that can herald one thing only. An odor to it, at once pungent and clear.

Snow.

She resists the urge to burrow deeper under the pile of blankets. Soon an Accepted will be by and knock on her door and call her to service in the kitchens. She sighs, rubs sleep out of her eyes. It’s going to be a long winter.

Beatrice wakes to an absence as well. A bed, barely built for one let alone two, empty except for her. The narrow space Ava had occupied, vacant. Even the memory of her body heat is nearly gone, only faintly felt when Beatrice reaches out, fingers pressed to the shallow indent Ava’s head had left on the surface of their solitary pillow.

“Ava?” Nothing. Beatrice rolls over, puts her face closer to the wall where some prior occupant had drilled a hole through to the room adjacent, and calls again. “Ava, are you there?” Silence.

She sits up, tosses the blankets aside and her stomach twists into a knot of disquiet.

It’s a new thing, in the fast-evolving trajectory of their friendship, the sharing of a bed.

Beatrice can pinpoint the exact day it started with accuracy, yet the precise mechanics of the how it did remain unclear. Ava had simply showed up at her door at the first hint of Fall, had barely let Beatrice crack it the width of a finger before she’s pushed it fully open, her wheeled chair a battering ram crashing past the last lines of the admittedly already blurred concept of personal space between them, and announced that she was cold, her room was colder and would Beatrice mind if she squeezed in bed with her just for a night?

One sleep became two became three became a fortnight to the point Beatrice can’t imagine it’s ever been any way else. Shame colors her cheeks like so much paint as her stomach (her heart) gives another lurch. She can imagine it, but rather wouldn’t.

Dressing against the chatter of her teeth, Beatrice surveys her room a final time: no, Ava is not hiding in a corner, and yes, her chair too is gone.

She ventures outside, immediately spotting Ava one level above theirs and directly across. The rooms of that gallery are all empty, dark, and barred for fifty years she’s heard one of the Accepted say. She wonders briefly whether in another fifty years their rooms too will fall to neglect, or whether it’ll be less than. Twenty years. Ten. She abandons the dark thought with a huff and walks away from it quickly.

“Ava, what are you doing?” Ava is staring unmoving at the brightening sky “You’re going to catch a chill.” It must have been hot work to push her chair up the steep ramp and all the way around the gallery; still, Ava’s wearing just a nightshift. Now at rest, she’s sure to be frozen to the bone. “Here, put this on.”

A snowflake-sized pang of regret finds its way under Beatrice’s woollens the moment she removes her cloak but, even though she’s nowhere near mastering whatever it is that lets an Aes Sedai ignore both extreme heat and cold, she does her best to ignore it.

The cloak falls around Ava’s shoulders, white on white and soft as the layer of snow obscuring the garden down below. Ava startles. Looks at her and smiles.

“It’s snowing.” She reaches up, absently seeking Beatrice’s hands with her own. “It’s snowing, Bea.”

“I can tell.” Ava’s hands seem made of the same matter that’s falling from the sky, and Beatrice squeezes them hard, trying to restore them to a semblance of warmth. “Surely you’ve seen snow before?”

A strange expression flits across Ava’s face, and Beatrice bites the inside of her cheek to the point she tastes red, reminded of the gulf that separated their lives before Tar Valon. “I’m sorry.” Stupid, stupid. “I didn’t mean-”

The hold she has on Ava’s hands slackens with the remorse of hasty words, and Ava grasps for the chance, twisting until she’s the one gripping Beatrice’s hands tight, palm to palm, fingers interlocked.

“It’s okay.” She tilts her face down so that her lips brush the back of Beatrice’s left hand in what she would mistake for a kiss were she a fool and breathes a puff of warm air over numb flesh. “It’s just… winter sucks when you’re an orphan. I guess I should thank the Light that Amadicia rarely got any snow worth the name.”

Beatrice resists the temptation to press for more, and instead says:

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Ava lets go of her and extends one hand over the balustrade, watching snowflakes touch down on it and dissolve. She shivers, although perhaps it’s more of a shudder. “I think there was snow in my dreams last night.”

Beatrice doesn’t question how Ava could dream of a thing she’s never seen before, doesn’t tell her that she’s been sleep-talking (mumbling really) in the clutches of what had seemed like dreams of a darker kind. Doesn’t mention that these sorts of dreams, the ones that soak Ava’s nightshift through and dig black trenches all round her eyelids, have occurred nearly every night since they’ve begun sharing a bed. Every night since Beatrice was brought below ground to Test and refused the ter’angreal in its entirety.

She doesn’t say she’s had dreams too, lucid ones that ambush in the light of morning. What is and what could be, choices she could make branching out indefinitely; in the sheer number of them lies abject horror.

One such hovers at the corner of her eye. Beatrice focuses on Ava, on their hands still entwined. The dream – the vision – melts away. “We should head back to my room.” She glances at the sky, grey veering to lacteal. “We can snatch another half hour of warmth if we hurry.”

A flicker of motion, white from head to toe, freezes Ava’s reply. Two levels down.

“It’s an Accepted.” Slowly, carefully, Ava inches her chair back. “Crimson, I think.”

Fantastic. “We really need to go.” Beatrice looks from the wheelchair to the ramp and back again. “Can you get down without making noise?”

“I can do even better.”

“Ava, what-”

Too late. The glow of saidar dances across Ava’s knuckles. A trickle. Enough.

“Ava, don’t.” Beatrice knows it’s for naught. Ava has a glint in her eyes, mischief mixed in with intent. Snow silently coalesces into a small cloud, then a flurry. Unaware, Crimson glides from door to door, rapping once before she moves on to the next. “Ava, please, stop.” The cloud of snow, clumped together into something more solid, has reached the size and rough shape of a bucket. A weave of air and water nudges it under the eaves of the gallery and over Crimson’s unsuspecting head.

Grinning, Ava lets the Power go.

“See?” She whispers, as the first shriek reaches their ears. “I stopped like you asked me to.”

Beatrice grabs the back of the chair and whirls her around. “Let’s go.” She doesn’t care that the wheels let out a squeak against the marble. Crimson is screaming loud enough to cover the sound. “I swear to the Light, one of these days you’ll get into some real trouble, and I won’t be there to get you out of it.”

By some sort of miracle or mercy of the Light they make it back to Beatrice’s room undetected.

“Come on.” Beatrice pushes the door open, struggling to wedge the bulky chair inside. “Just-” Another set of hands appears, pushing Ava the rest of the way through, and Beatrice, too stunned to speak, stumbles after.

“Neat trick.” With Mary, and Shannon Sedai, and the two of them besides, the room, which is already cramped, shrinks down to a broom closet. “You should ask Shan to show you how to make ice appear inside people’s clothes, though.” Mary winks. “Less likely to be found out that way.”

“Aes Sedai.” With so little space it is impossible to curtesy, but to her credit Beatrice tries. “It’s all my fault. I told Ava I was sad,” Lie. She’s never as happy as when she is with Ava. “She just wanted to make me laugh. I will apo-”

“You’re sad?” Ava’s eyes study her face, full of concern. “You didn’t tell me you were sad, Bea. Why are you sad?”

Shannon brings a finger to her lips, and they all go quiet, waiting. A knock comes at Beatrice’s door, Ava’s, then the one further down the hall.

After, Ava is still looking at her for answer, and Shannon Sedai is still looking at them both, face blank save for an uptick to the corner of her mouth that smooths completely flat the instant Beatrice notices it.

“I will not report you this time.” The Aes Sedai declares finally, and Beatrice exhales a breath she’d not noticed she’d been holding. “But you best lay low for a while.”

“Until she teaches you that trick is what she means.” Mary chimes in, making Shannon sigh.

“Don’t encourage them, Mary.” Shannon gestures, and the door opens without anyone touching it. The wind snags at it, meaning to close it, and the Aes Sedai stops it with her hand. “Be steadfast now, child.” She holds Beatrice’s gaze for a moment, and then she’s gone, Mary hard on her heels.

Only after they’ve left, after she’s reassured Ava she wasn’t sad but improvising, it dawns on Beatrice they’d been dressed for long, hard travel.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 25 : White Maze Mountain

Monkeys get closer 👀

Sun Wukong took three strands of his hair and blew on it, immediately three perfect copies of himself appeared inside a golden colored smoke. They greeted him casually, definitely not possessing the seriousness clones should have in front of their creator, and turned towards the lil lady lazily stretched on top of his sheet. Sock looked up at them for a second, unimpressed by their presence (she was quite used to them at this point), and resumed her midday nap. 

“Don't worry Boss, we will guard her with our lives!” Announced one clone as he laid beside the lil sage, cooing each time her ears flickered. 

“I expect nothing less.” Huffed the great sage as he narrowed his eyes at the three clones. “Sandy will stay here with Mo, do not reveal anything… compromising.” 

“Don't worry Boss, we are you, you know how reliable we are.”Proudly declared one clone. Sun Wukong leveled him with an unimpressed glare, they all knew he tended to be too impulsive at times. 

“Just go save our loverboy.”

“Do not call him that.” Stuttered the sage with reddened cheeks, this was why he was reluctant to summon his clones in front of others. “I'm serious, you three better behave.”

“We will, we will.” 

The great sage stepped back, gaze still trained on the three gremlins wearing his face, he put a paw on the handle and did the universal sign of “I'm watching you” before leaving them. He was greatly reluctant to let them here with Sandy, he knew perfectly how they tended to have a loose mouth in front of other people, and they were things he didn't want others to know (like his feelings for a certain black furred monkey). It would be very embarrassing if Sandy of all people, his not-official but still kind of therapist, learned of that. 

Sun Wukong walked on the deck, the group was already there, each ready to explore every nook and cranny of the snowed mountain, also known as White-Maze Mountain for demonkind, a supposedly inhabited territory. The kids were the one holding the compass (Sun Wukong conceded it after days of pleading, he didn't like the idea of them holding something imbued with her power, but they were right when they said they knew the device better than any of them after using it so many times). 

“You're ready Monkey King?” Excitedly asked his mentee, almost jumping on site. 

“Yeah, I left three clones with Sock, if anything goes wrong they can help you.” Warned the King as he turned toward the tea-lover, Sandy nodded thankfully at him. 

“If everything is ready let's go, I don't want to stay longer than necessary here.” Grumbled Red Son as he crossed his arms over his chest, the dragon girl was almost glued to his side, something about leeching off his warmth. They all nodded, each one of them covered in multiple layers (except the sage, his blood ran hotter than most beings, the cold wasn't a problem for him.) 

They left the airship, stepping in the thick bone-white snow veiling the entire mountain. Sun Wukong shuddered, not liking the memory of her resurfacing, and followed his mentee, the boy seemed to be well-used to the compass, he handled it with ease. The sage trotted towards the warrior, who was walking a bit away from everyone, steel-like eyes trained on MK. 

“Hey. Cold place, right?” Like always, he was incredibly awkward with idle talk. But still, he wanted to try. They weren't exactly upset at each other, but there was tension lingering in-between them since their last therapy session. It was to be expected, even if they didn't fight (in the proper sense of the word) they were still disagreeing on the pilgrims' matter. Their visions couldn't be more opposites. 

“Well yeah, it's not like Flower Fruit Mountain after all.” Replied the macaque as he breathed out a crystallized puff of white air. Macaque had always been rather sensitive to the cold, his body was naturally cold (dealing with shadows cooled his skin) so he had troubles dealing with freezing temperature (like the sage had troubles with scorching temperature). Nevertheless, he wasn't one to stay put on the ship, no amount of cold could prevent him from following them. 

“I guess. Look, Macaque, I'm…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Cut the warrior as he turned towards the King. “We just disagree, it's normal.”

“... I… Sandy proposed solo therapy sessions for me, you know, to work out the whole pilgrim thing...” Tentativly mumbled the King. 

“That's great.” Replied the other with a soft smile etched on his lips. 

“You're not upset?”

“Why would I be?”

“I don't know… because I'm doing it without you?” Tried to explain the sage as he fiddled with his fingers. 

“Wukong.” Macaque stopped walking and put his hands on the sage's shoulders, stilling the King in front of him. “It's okay if you have problems you need to deal with alone. I'm not gonna be upset about you wanting to heal.”

“Hm, t-thanks Macaque.”

“Anytime. You’re kinda dumb to think I would be mad because of that.” Snickered the warrior, Sun Wukong gasped, greatly offended, and narrowed his eyes as the ebony monkey. 

“That's what I get for worrying about your pretty little head? ”

“You think I'm pretty?” Asked the macaque with a raised eyebrow. Sun Wukong stuttered, caught off guard, and fled towards the others. 

“No comment.” Mumbled the King with reddened cheeks. 

“Come on, Wukong, I want to know!” Called the macaque as he followed after him, but he didn't get to pester the sage any more, the group stopped before the mouth of a cave with a neck-breaking height. They all stood in tense silence, before groaning collectively. 

“Really? We're gonna enter the cave of the White-Maze Mountain??” Grumbled the pig as he glared at the cave's mouth. 

“How did the lantern piece even get there?” Muttered the dragon-girl as she nuzzled the Bull's son, he didn't even flinch at her antics, seemingly used to it. 

“We have the compass though, so we're like… unlostable!”Cheered MK, ever the optimistic. 

“That word doesn't exist.” Pointed out the scholar as he replaced the glasses slipping off his nose. “But this place realllly doesn't seem…safe.”

“We don't really have a choice.” Sighed the warrior, the kid decided to step in the darkness, he faltered a little, before finding his bearing with the aid of his golden sight. The other followed him, each keeping close to Red Son, who was lightening the way with a flame burning on his left palm. 

The place was old, each step was echoing in the large hallway, breaking the silence veiling the darkness. There were traces of demonkind on the walls, perhaps some fellow thought they could survive here (the place where the sun never showed), and got lost in the intricate array of caves iconic of the White-Maze Mountain. They walked in line, carefully following each other. 

They all suddenly stopped when MK decided to stop walking, hitting the one before them with groans. 

“Why did ya stop?” Asked the pig as he rubbed his snout with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Guys, there is a weird smoke ahead of us?” Nervously chuckled MK. Sun Wukong coated his own eyes with gold and stared ahead of them, there was indeed a thick snake-like smoke approaching them, he quickly turned back and realized there was even more smoke coming from behind them. 

They were all hit by a sudden dizziness. Macaque, the one at the further back and thus most exposed to the smoke, staggered on by himself, Sun Wukong immediately turned towards him and tried to steady him. The great sage (who was the least affected by the smoke) tried to warn the other, or at least do something to get them all out of here, but the floor beneath his and Macaque's feet disappeared. They fell away from the others, darkness devouring them. 

Sun Wukong embraced Macaque, curling around the other as they fell in the deep black. He took the hit for the both of them, restraining his pained groan behind gritted teeth. His hide was made of stone, a measly fall wasn't enough to truly hurt him. Sun Wukong took a few seconds to come back from his fall, his eyes fell on the black bundle he was tightly helding. He immediately used his golden vision and fretted over the warrior, checking for any injuries. 

“Are you okay? You're not hurt are you? Tell me-”

“I'm okay, Wukong.” Groaned the macaque as he pushed the fretting sage away. “What about the others?” Sun Wukong looked up, the hole in which they fell was completely wiped away, it was as if it never existed in the first place. 

“I don't know.” Sheepishly chuckled the King “Should have known there was something odd in this maze.”

“Try to contact the kid first.” Adviced the warrior as he tried to stand up, he still staggered, but he caught himself by leaning on the wall. Sun Wukong stayed near him the whole time, and stepped back only when he was sure Macaque could stand by himself. 

The sage focused and projected himself towards the kid, he found him relatively well, panicked but well nonetheless. MK brithened the moment he caught sight of him, he waved at him and fretted over him, asking billions of questions.

“Wow, wow, calm down bus. We're alright. What about you?” The sage gaze sweaped over the golden figure of the kid, he unfortunately couldn't see MK surroundings while projecting, but it was better than noting. 

“We're pretty okay. We're all together… You both are the only one that got separated…” 

“I see. Be careful of the walls, I think they can move, the floor beneath me and Macaque disappeared without warning. Also, the smoke doesn't seems to be lethal, but stay away from it.”

“Aye aye, captain!”Cheerfully replied MK, Sun Wukong chuckled, tail flickering happily. “We're gonna keep following the compass, what about you guys?”

“We're gonna try to join you.”

“How?”

“I'm the Monkey King, bud. Have a little faith in me, okay?” Chuckled the sage as he put his hand son his hips and puffed out his chest. 

“Okay, see you later.”

“See you later, bud!”

The sage sighed once the projection faded away, he turned towards the warrior and quickly approached him. He offered his help, but Macaque softly brushed him away, preferring to stand alone. 

“How's the kid?” Asked Macaque as he straightened his back, trying to look better, even if the sweat glistening on the edge of his face was betraying his discomfort (the sage could see it with his gold coated eyes). 

“Fine. They're following the compass. I don't really know how we're going to join them though.” Sighed the sage as he approached the wall, he knocked on it, frowning at the weird flesh-like sensation brushing his fingers, this array of caves was definitely not usual. He could easily get out of it by himself, destroying the array would be a piece of cake, but he couldn't risk that while the others were still inside. 

“...I might have an idea but…” Macaque seemed hesitant, he frowned, eyes lost in his own thoughts, before sighing loudly. “ Don't talk about it, okay?”

“Okay. Why would I–” He cut himself when he saw Macaque's ears carefully unfold, blooming like the softest petals to ever exist, their shine lightly illuminating Macaque's face. Sun Wukong felt his heart leaps out of his chest, deafening him with his loud beats, as loud as rock slides. He couldn't look away, bewitched by the way the apendages flicked ever so slightly. 

“I can hear them. They're not that far.” Muttered the macaque, but Sun Wukong wasn't paying attention, stilled, returning to the very tones he was born from. “Wukong ?”

“Y-yeah ?”

“Leads the way. I can't see anything.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, that's true, I'm the one with the shining eyes, yeah.” Stuttered the sage as he stifly turned away, he took a deep breath to calm his beating heart, glad that the darkness hid his flaming cheeks, and carefully walked ahead. He tied his tail on Macaque's wrist, and if the warrior startled in surprise (not expecting the sudden contact) he didn't protest. 

They walked in silence, Sun Wukong slowering his steps to not push the warrior too far, he was still staggering after all. The sage threw once or two glances behind him, each time transfixed by the way the six ears fluttered, Macaque sometimes questioned his stares (he could see his eye glows in the darkness) but Sun Wukong pretended he was only making sure everything was alright. 

The maze, as the sage's had suspected, was moving with them. Sometimes unexpected walls would block their path and they always had to be careful of sudden holes. They didn't came across any smoke for now, the sage was quite glad for that, Macaque would normally be unfazed by any type of poison, but his body was a lot more frail than normal. 

They stopped walking after a few hours, well, the sage insisted to take a breather while the Macaque, ever so stubborn, wanted to go on despite struggling more and more. Sun Wukong created a few blankets with his hair, and lighted on a little campfire with hair woods and hair matches. 

“You're gonna get bald.” Snickered the macaque as he dived in his blanket, practically hiding in it. 

“Nah, my hair grows fast.” Replied the sage with a puffed out chest. 

“This is not something to be proud off??” Chuckled the warrior as he leaned over the sage, they were sitted sides by sides, shoulder by shoulder, each cuddled in their blankets, watching the campfire dance in the darkness. The sage coughed to hide his rising purr, trying to reign in the feeling that was warming him. 

“It is when you have a whole magic about hair.” Argued the King. 

“Hm, fair, I guess” Mumbled Macaque, cheeks redenned by the prevailing cold, his breath was coming out of his chapped lips in puff of white smoke. Sun Wukong's eyes trained on the other lips for a bit longer than necessary, tail thumping in interest under his blanket. He quickly turned away, immediately stilling his tail. 

“You're okay?” Asked the King, clearing his throat to clear his mind. 

“Hm, it's fucking cold, but it's alright.” Groaned the macaque, he huddled a bit closer from the sage, perhaps searching for his warmth. Sun Wukong shuddered, not because of the cold, and let his eyes fell on the warrior's face, observing the way the soft flames lightened up his mask. His fingers twitched under the blanket, wanting to hold the other closer, but he hesitated. He decided to do it after feeling another shudder coming form the warrior, he quietly extanded his arm and carefully grabbed the warrior's waist, pressing him closer. “Wukong?”

“You're cold. And I'm warm that's all.” Muttered the sage, head turned away to hide his growing blush. Macaque rose an eyebrow, but he said nothing of it and put his head on the sage's shoulder. 

“We're just resting for a little bit, then we go.” Mumbled Macaque, voice muffled by the blanket and the sage's shoulder. 

“Why are you in such a hurry ? They're fine right?” 

“Yeah but… I just… don't want them to be put in danger because of me, you know.” Sun Wukong frowned, pained by what he was hearing. He carefully thought of his words, not wanting to upset the other. 

“They…it's okay, they're doing it because they want to.” Muttered the sage as he pressed the other a bit closer, he put his head on the warrior's own, inhaling his comforting scent. 

“Even so. They shouldn't hurt themselves for me.”

“We care about you, Macaque. I care about you.”

Macaque stayed silent, face hidden in the other shoulder. Sun Wukong frowned, not wanting the other to stay on his mindset. Because Macaque deserved to be helped, he deserved to have people caring about him, and fretting over him. He deserved to be saved. 

“I want to help you.” Mumbled the sage, he slowly took the other's face in his hands, wanting him to see the resolution in his eyes. “The others wants to help you too. I… We like you Macaque.”

Macaque sighed, his eyes turning away, not willing to dive in the sage's own gaze. 

“Please. We just want to help you. You're important.” Sun Wukong put his forehead on the warrior's own, hands softly cradling his face. “I know you feel like you don't deserve this because you feel guilty. I know the feeling, I feel guilty a lot. But we care about you, let us care.”

“Why are you so insisting?” Mumbled the warrior as he gazed at the sage, eyes boring into him. Sun Wukong felt a tingle pass through his skin, he gulped, trying to reign in his feelings, trying to keep his eyes on the other gaze and not let it fall lower. 

“I told you, I care about you.” 

“... Yeah ? Say it again.”

“I care about you.” Macaque ears fluttered, shining a bit stronger. A smirk bloomed on his lips, and his eyes shined with a mischievous glint. 

“Again.” Sun Wukong raised a eyebrow, chuckling a little, but he indulged him nonetheless. 

“I care about you.” Macaque leaned in his palm, ears brushing against the sage's fingers, soft like silk. 

“Again.”

“I care about you, Macaque.” Chuckled the King, he closed his eyes, blush high on his cheeks. 

“Again.”

“I care about you.” Sighed Sun Wukong, his breath only inches away form the warrior's own. 

“Hm, again.” The warrior put his hands on the sage's neck, pushing him ever so slightly closer. 

“I care about you.”

“One more time.” Mumbled Macaque, face softened by the flames. Sun Wukong admired a bit slightly, and nuzzled his cheeks, making him laugh. 

“I care about you, you hardheaded dimwit.” Macaque snickered, he nuzzled the sage's cheek, breath tickling Sun Wukong's skin. 

“Yeah, I care about you too.”Soflty whispered the warrior, eyes crooked like moon crescents. 

“Damn. Kinda know why you wanted me to repeat it so much.” Muttered the sage, unable to hide his smile after hearing Macaque say that. They giggled, both of them high on the feeling swarming inside of their chest. Sun Wukong, caught in the moment, leaned over the other, and naturally, like the waves crashing on the shore or the sun rising at dawn, their lips met. 

It was just brush, almost not there, a caress of lips that filled them both with sparks. Macaque pushed further, lips crashing into him, dancing together in the sweetest of dance. Sun Wukong shuddered, tail thumping in delight, and pushed back. This was heaven on earth, thought the King as he lost himself on the feeling. Macaque was the one to separate them, he stepped back a little, breath slightly struggling. 

“You kissed me.” Muttered the warrior with a rising blush. 

“Wha–no you kissed me.” Corrected the sage. 

“No, no, you're the one who initiate it.”

“Well, maybe, but you're the one who deepened it.” Pointed Sun Wukong. “Wait, why are we even arguing?”

“I don't know… W-we should go, the others are probably waiting for us!” Squeaked Macaque as he rose on his two feet. 

“O-oh, yeah, you're right.” Sun Wukong followed the other example, he erased the blankets and the fire with a flick of wrist, retuning them to hair, and they resumed their walk in a tight silence, both of them los to their own musing. “So are we gonna talk about it?”Asked the sage after only a few minutes. 

“About what?” Replied Macaque as he felt the wall to walk properly. 

“The kiss?”

“W-well what do you wanna say about it? ” Asked Macaque. 

“I don't know!” Sun Wukong rubbed his face, trying to erase the blush etched on his cheeks. “I liked it?”

“It was a good kiss.” Shyly admitted Macaque. 

“Yeah. Good.” The sage took a deep breath, calming his stuttering heart. “Sooo, is this like, a friend thing?”

“Hm, I don't know?”

“What do you mean I don't know?” Groaned the sage. 

“I don't know! I don't know a lot about relationships, you were the only friend I ever had, okay.” Bitterly mumbled the warrior. 

“W-well, it can be friendly. Like friends kiss right?”

“Maybe? I won't do this with anyone thought.”

“Me neither. Maybe it's a friendship thing, but with just us…”

“Where are you going with this?” Tentatively asked the warrior, seemingly lost by his rambles. He should stop rambling, he was worsening the situation. 

“Nowhere? Just…just wanne say I liked it?”

“Okay, me too, let's leave it at that for now. I can hear the others, they're near.”

“Yeah good idea.” Awkwardly chuckled the King while he silently guided the other in the dark. 

“Friendship!? Friends doesn't kiss, Wukong, you idiot!” Cried the sage in his mind, cursing himself for screwing this up. He should just keep his mouth shut until they found the others, his traitorous lips were doing him more harm than good. 

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