#maybe he should get some tofu tights

[secret-wrestling-blog]

i mean, i just get hungry for a nice steak whenever i see Bryan in these trunks.

[momobani]

Wilson!

THE WAY I hate YOU - Chapter 3 - 16.3k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: most people would die to stay in their honeymoon phase, you on the other hand might die from being in the honeymoon phase. 

Warnings: swearing, sarcasm, mention of food and alcohol, Nicholas (i feel like his existence is a warning in this one, you’ll see what i mean), mentions of sex 

Soundtrack rec: Hold Me Tight or Don’t - Fall Out Boy

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o

A/N: i personally was having a delightful time writing some of this, like more than usual lol that i went overboard with the word count, i hope you enjoy it too <3 (again ft some fun cameos! don’t take it seriously lmao)  

This is so not how you had imagined spending your Friday night.

The hot pot machine bubbled quietly in the middle of the table while you tried to simultaneously pay attention to what Nicholas was saying and fight a piece of meat that just kept disappearing below the surface of the broth. 

“So, what do you think?” Nicholas concludes. He’d just finished his side of the debate on which apartment you should choose to live in. The two of you had been meeting to organise your lives and had finally come to make a decision for where you’ll live. 

You finally manage to snag that piece of meat and bring it to your plate quickly. 

“Well, I agree about how much nicer it would be to have a laundry room but I’m not too hot on the location.” you reply.

“What do you mean?” he asks. “The location is perfect!” 

“What’s so perfect about it?” you inquire, looking down at the tablet between you. The map just showed it was some distance away from your current apartments, although closer to the supermarket you went to and the boba cafe you liked. 

“It’s pretty central to where we need to go,” he says, flicking through the photos again. “and there’sabasketballcourtafewblocksaway.” he speedily finishes. The slew of words don’t quite hit your ears in real time and your eyebrows scrunch together as you try to decipher what your husband just said. 

“There’s a what?” you ask. 

“And there’s a park so nature, yay!” he grins, trying to move on but you weren’t born yesterday. You raise an eyebrow combatively - he either tells you or you’ll veto this entirely. Nicholas sighs. “There’s a basketball court nearby and it’d be nice to play with my friends. Happy now?”

“What really is happiness?” you hum in thought, avoiding sinking into a philosophical blackhole, instead thinking about his revelation about the court and to some extent, the park. It might be a way to get Maki to come over to yours and hang out - you barely got to see him lately and you wanted to see how he was doing.    

“Hey, save the existential crisis for later and tell me if I can play basketball or not.” Nicholas pouts over a piece of tofu puff.

“I’m not about to choose an apartment based on that. Give me better reasons.” you shrug, coming down with a verdict that you were sure Nicholas wouldn’t like, but you weren’t about to just indulge him.

“Okay, let’s review; our own laundry room, underground parking, central location,” he lists, taking a moment to think between each one. “reasonable mortgage - hmm?” he wriggles his eyebrows the way you think those old school teleshopping people would but right now it feels more like the way a shady conman might. “Oh, and the park and the court.”

You purse your lips, weighing up the pros and cons. The place you’d chosen had some of the same perks - in terms of parking and location but there was no laundry room, just a machine in the kitchen and you didn’t love that. You mentally added the boba place to Nicholas’ list and the possibility of persuading your little brother to visit you so he wouldn’t forget you exist. 

Unfortunately, it made logical sense to pick the place with more perks and better price for value, but the whole thing sounded like Nicholas was fishing for a way to avoid you at home. 

On second thought, maybe that’s how you should consider it - it might give you opportunities to be independent of each other and not be constantly stuck together. You clear your throat and munch on a piece of rice cake for a moment.

“Fine, let’s take that one. I like doing laundry.” you say whatever nonsense that comes to mind. Nicholas is suddenly far too happy to pay attention to details. 

“Really?” his eyes are wide in surprise. “Okay, we better move fast then. I’ll send them an interest inquiry right now.” he forgets about the food and starts tinkering away on securing the apartment for you. 

You watch him, busy hands and roaming eyes. He pushes up the sleeves of his olive shirt - a comfy and clearly beloved cozy sweater - and focuses. You notice the details of his existence; his tense forearms, the tongue that swipes across his lips unconsciously, and the chain that hangs around his muscular neck. 

Sometimes it was hard to understand that you weren’t really strangers any more. 

You’d been married for two weeks already and had been seeing a lot more of each other than you thought you would before you lived together. There’d been several family and business dinners that had needed your presence but you went to each other’s places to eat occasionally while you looked at new apartments or planned your move.

So much for strangers. 

Nicholas was your husband now and you were his wife. It had already happened and you just needed to get used to it.

“YN?” you snap out of it, realising that you’d been spacing out while looking in his direction so he probably thought you were staring at him. 

“Yeah?”

He gives you a once over and goes back to his tapping on the screen. “Nothing, just checking you were still breathing.”

“I am.” you confirm, taking a deep breath in and exhaling. “See?” 

“Yeha.” Nicholas barely responds because he seems to have made progress on the inquiry. “And done. We should hear from them soon.” he smiles, pretty proud of himself. 

“Cool. Now we just have to somehow pack up our lives and smush them together in one place.” you say. 

“Don’t stress, it’ll be fine.” Nicholas says dismissively, getting back to his meal. 

“Let’s hope so.” you mumble and do the same. 

You had lived by yourself for a little while now, so living with someone else again all of a sudden was going to be a bit of shock to your system. 

The two of you had agreed to have your own rooms and your own space within the apartment, essentially cohabiting like roommates because nowhere did it say in any document you actually had to sleep in the same bed like a married couple would. 

You were married legally and in name only, as far as you were concerned. 

You drew up rules to keep the peace, basic things like keeping it clean, respecting each other’s space, and minding your own business, but you weren’t too worried about it. You were a great roommate, even if you did say so yourself.  

The apartment was secured over the weekend and you were free to move in from the following Thursday onwards. 

Several days later, your apartment was all packed up except for the bare minimum living essentials, which would come with you later. You helped the movers put your stuff in their van, telling them that they’ll meet your husband at the apartment while you hung back and sorted things out there. 

It’s sluggish to put the last few items in a box and double check your suitcase. You get a text from Nicholas that the movers have finished and are away already and you realise you’re moving slowly subconsciously; you didn’t want to leave yet.

You didn’t want to accept that you weren’t going to be the way you were any more. 

There was an echo of your footsteps that resonated through your now empty apartment, the space far too barren for your liking. In some ways you were glad, because you’d been able to negotiate which of your furniture you would keep and which you had to sell on since you had no need for it. 

Your precious couch and coffee table had survived and you were taking it with you, whereas Nicholas was bringing the dining table and chairs from his place with your somewhat enthusiastic approval. (The dining table was tastefully furniture to die for.) Your bedroom stuff had survived for the most part since you weren’t going to share any of it, but apart from that, you had to sell several things. 

You looked over your shoulder one last time at what used to be your place, before closing the door with a quiet click for the last time. It felt solemn; like the end of an era, so of course you were feeling a little sentimental. 

The drive to your new apartment was marred by heavy rain pouring down, the forecast for sunny clear skies completely wrong, so you drove slowly, putting on a sad ballad to match the mood. You were going to miss that place; it was somewhere you’d learned a lot about yourself, had your real taste of independence in and one that you cherished a lot. 

You get to your new front door, apartment 520* mounted in pretty gold letters against the dark emerald lacquer of the door. 

It felt like a betrayal when you entered the passcode for the first time and opened the door.

“Surprise!” you heard a yell as soon as stepped into the hallway. You jump slightly, suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. “Hey, roomie!” 

Nicholas was standing there grinning, all alone, blowing one of those annoyingly brightly coloured party blowers. The noise scratched a very specific part of your brain, and not in a good way. You moved to shove your shoes off.  

“Not exactly a surprise since we agreed to live here together, but okay.” you say shrugging and drag your suitcase into the corridor. 

“I guess,” Nicholas says. “but I just wanted to get one of these.” he holds up the party blower. 

“Great.” you move past him and look around for your furniture. You spot the stuff in your room and your couch is deposited randomly with your coffee table but what surprises you is that Nicholas’ stuff isn’t here yet. “Did something happen to the dining table, or?” you ask. 

“Ah,” he hums, thinking for a moment. “well, I’ve still got a few things to move since I was using Fuma’s van and it didn’t fit everything, so I sort of sacrificed the table. Sorry.” he finishes sheepishly. “Besides, isn’t it classic to eat on the floor the first night you move in somewhere new?” 

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a thing or not, I guess we’re doing it on the floor.” you say. 

“Huh?” Nicholas seems startled for a moment. “Doing what?” 

“Eating, duh.” you say. You wonder why that would have confused him; surely he wasn’t thinking you two were going to- oh my god, did he? No, you were just tired and imagining stupid things. You shake your head, “Whatever. I’m ordering. What do you want to eat?” 

And so you did eat on the floor on your first night in your new apartment, ignoring the perfectly good couch and sitting on a random blanket like an indoor picnic. 

It wasn’t all bad but there was a certain awkwardness being there, a little like the first time you’d met Nicholas. You just hoped you could get used to the apartment like you were getting used to him. 

* 

“No. I simply refuse.” you state as you stir your morning coffee. Nicholas sighs deeply, hunching over the kitchen counter. 

“But it’s a really good deal! We should go.” he argues. Instead of a debater, he sounds more like a kid trying to convince their parents to do something. You shook your head.

“I have things to do, you go if you really want to.” you say. Nicholas looks dubious - it’s the first time you’ve seen that expression on his face. 

“Mrs Wang-” you’re about to interject at the name calling but he doesn’t let you. “did you just tell me- your husband- to go on our honeymoon alone?” he asks, scepticism rising with every syllable. 

“You’re right. That sounds pathetic.” you concede. “Go with your friends. Make it a dude-bro-cation. Take Jo and Euijoo and…” you think hard, trying to remember names. “Fuma!” you snap your fingers, having remembered another one of Nicholas’ friends. 

“Don’t hurt yourself if you don’t know.” he says sarcastically.

“Hey! I met them one time,” you can’t help the defensive pout that you feel like came out. “and you have a lot of friends.” you mutter. 

“Not the point, YN. I’m not going without you.” Nicholas says. “This is practically a direct order from management, a.k.a the parents! And they’re offering to pay for everything.”

You sip your coffee, thinking. 

Your parents had dropped this bomb on you last night, telling you to go on a honeymoon while you were having dinner at your parents’ house. Both sides offered to pay for everything like they did with the wedding and call it a honeymoon for the two of you. 

It sounded fair enough.

You just didn’t feel like going though.     

You could go on vacation whenever you wanted to - you made enough money by yourself that you could splurge - but going now and officially calling it a honeymoon? It felt silly, like the cherry on top of this whole crazy arranged marriage business. 

“It’s just a vacation, why make it sound so - I don’t know.” you think out loud. 

“YN, please don’t make me beg you.” Nicholas’ shoulders slumped. “It’s a free vacation, for crying out loud! Who says no to that?” 

I would, you thought. You didn’t know what the situation in Nicholas’ office was, but in your office, department, part of hell, whatever you wanted to call it, you had to stick around if you didn’t want to be left behind or get your ass grilled by everyone else. 

You were already scrutinised enough for being the boss’ kid, but disappearing to go on a holiday with your husband just when the merger was really getting underway? You would get roasted con fuoco.

“You know what, I will beg,” Nicholas resolves, getting up. “I’m getting on my knees, I’m not above begging.” he announces before sliding off his slippers. It’s almost comical and you think he’s joking but he starts to bend down.

“Okay!” you exclaim, putting a stop to his buffoonery. “We’ll go on our stupid honeymoon.” 

You decided that whatever happened at work was better than having to hear him begging and bugging you about going until you agreed.

“That’s more like it.” he stands up straight, grinning. “I’m no fancy lawyer, but I know how to win in these situations.”

“You sure do, but do you ever think you’ll win your dignity back?” you say to him before leaving for your room. You leave him gapping after you in your kitchen.

“Who needs dignity? I’m going on vacation!” Nicholas calls after you, just before you close the door. 

*

The PA system crackles overhead and you fasten your seatbelt, getting ready for takeoff. 

Nicholas sits besides you, neck pillow already in place, as well as a fuzzy wolf sleeping mask placed over his forehead, the image of a travel diva personified in your husband. Of course he would be so extra for like a three hour flight.

You ignored him while you got comfy, pulling on your cardigan when they started to blast the AC down on you. 

“So, how remote is this island anyway?” Nicholas asks, sending one last text before switching his pone to flight mode. You pause to remember details on what you’d read. 

“Hmm, I’d say a lot. Something about limited signal and wifi.” you answer, shrugging. You’d fought tooth and nail about where you were going on vacation- no, honeymoon- and you’d compromised on the island since it had a beach, which is one thing you both wanted. 

Suddenly the air around you swishes. Nicholas whips around to look at you, desperate. 

“Are you sure about that?” he says with all but the zest of John Cena’s original delivery.

“Yes,” you say, silently edging away from him. “there’s this thing called ‘research’, ever heard of it?”

“Don’t patronise me.” Nicholas pouts, sitting back. You crack a smile.

“Ooh, big word for wittle Nichowas.” you chuckle, starting to think this vacation might actually be a good idea. You were going to watch your city-boy husband practically lose his mind in the jungle; it was going to be great. 

“Can’t you speak nicely?”

“No.” you say. 

“You are so incredibly frigid.” he shoots back. 

“Aha, I was born this way.” you take the opportunity to reach a quick hand and pull the fuzzy sleeping mask over his nose and mouth, snapping it lightly. He splutters slightly as he fights the wolf off his face. 

“Do you have a sarcastic reply to everything?” he huffs, putting the mask back in its place before you decided to redecorate his accessories. 

“Probably. Guess we’ll find out.” you hum, reaching into your pocket for chewing gum. You take a piece out then offer the pack to Nicholas, who also takes a piece in the most begrudging way. You smile to yourself, chewing as the plane takes off. 

This was going to be interesting.

*

Upon arriving, you felt two things: 

Firstly, the sweet smell of not answering work emails for ten days, and secondly, the colossal, mind-melting, soul-snatching humidity. It was horrific. As if you could practically taste it if you stuck your tongue out (you didn’t, though it crossed your mind).

You’d shed your cardigan, stuffing it into your carry-on bag and Nicholas had unbuttoned one more of his shirt’s top buttons. 

You make it out of the tiny airport, if you could call it that and not a helipad, and follow the signs to the shuttle bus that would take you to resort where your hotel was. 

After getting off the bus, your clothes sticking to your skin from the heat, you finally see the hotel up a short path. There was a lot of what you presumed was jungle or rainforest just outside the resort and it loomed majestically overhead behind the light chainlink fence that seemed to be placed there just for the thought of having it. 

“I could totally run away and live off the land, Robinson Crusoe style.” You muttered to yourself.

“What?”

“Intrusive thought. Nevermind.” you snapped out of it, continuing to walk. 

“Oh god,” Nicholas groaned miserably. “this island is literally in the middle of ass fuck nowhere!” 

You didn’t know what he was whining about, you’d both picked this place. “Your point?”

“We’re completely marooned - there’s like no signal, no wifi…” he complains while hoisting his phone up in the air as if it was the Lion King. 

“Don’t tell me you were actually planning on spending your vacation just watching TV in your room all day?” you throw a semi-judgmental glance at your husband over your shoulder. 

Nicholas pockets his phone silently and adjusts his shirt slightly from sticking to his body. You side-eye a couple of girlies that walk past you and gawk at Nicholas, obviously staring at the way the white fabric outlined the defined lines of his torso. You ignore the image and bulldoze forward to the hotel’s entrance.  

“Well, not all day, but now I can’t do it at all.” he says, disappointment evident in his voice. 

“Boo-hoo, the whole point of vacation is to chill. You can still do that perfectly fine.” you point out.      

“I like chilling,” he huffs. “Netflix and chilling, but now there’s no Netflix. Do you not see this may be the end of humanity as we know it?” he asks dramatically, eyes wider than a conspiracy theorist’s. 

“Hmm, not quite the crisis you imagine.” you reply. “Fortunately, there are these magical things - books - which have survived many millennia, and they seemed to have worked just fine for our ancestors.” 

“So what I’m hearing is, our vacation is, in fact, doomed.” Nicholas states as you walk into the hotel lobby, breathing in that delicious, stale air-conditioned air. You stop to bask in its coolness, breathing out in relief.    

“Your vacation,” you correct. “I’ll be paying my respects to my ancestors by reading.” 

“Ugh, well we can’t stay here. What are we going to do for ten days?” Nicholas asks. You wonder if he even heard what you said, but in his current state, you somehow doubted it. 

“You got a better idea?” you raise your eyebrows.

“I’ll build a raft, we can swim off the island.” he suggests. You’re about to lay down the most sarcastic, hard line of the century but the sound of thunder rumbling stops you. 

It was the loudest rumble you’d ever heard in your life and you suspected the lightning that preceded it might have struck not even several meters out of the door you’d momentarily walked through. The thought almost made you faint. 

“If you walk out of that door, Nicholas, so help me god.” you warn, wheeling your suitcase further into the building and away from the windows. 

“Noted.” he replies sheepishly, following your lead away from the windows, almost scrambling after you.  

Needless to say, it starts pouring torrential rain after that and while you check in, you can see the rain drops hammering violently on the window panes behind the concierge desk.

The lady there hands you a small card holder, telling you the keys are inside and you can’t really hear much else of what she says to you but it sounds like the standard if-you-need-anything-ring-the-phone mumbo jumbo so you thank her and go.

Little did you know, she’d warned you.   

You get up to the correct floor in search of your rooms, looking around while you navigate the soft-carpeted hallways. 

“One four three.” you mumble, trying to find the right number. You stop at the end of a corridor and take out the key card. You buzz the door open and push it forward. “Wait a minute-” you walk in several steps and circle back, thinking you’re losing your mind. 

“What is it?” Nicholas walks in, relaxed pulling in both of your suitcases. 

“I think there must be a mistake,” you say. “The suite only has one room. I thought we’d asked for two?” 

“Really?” Nicholas takes a few steps in, sweeping his eyes over the place and sure enough there is only one room. “That’s weird. Let me check with Jun-ge, he’s the one that booked our honeymoon.” Nicholas fumbles around with his phone for a bit, trying to find a signal for a minute. 

You vaguely remembered meeting Jun at your wedding; he was one of Nicholas’ big bro types at the company but you had no idea if he’d known about your marriage being arranged or not. 

Nicholas finally gets the phone to ring and the line crackles when it’s picked up on the other end. 

“Hello?” you hear Jun answer when Nicholas puts the phone on speaker. “Nicho, what’s up?”

“Hey, Jun-ge, quick question, do you remember booking our honeymoon suite?” he asks tentatively. 

“Yeah, is something wrong?” 

“Well, uh, we got here and it’s got just the one room, didn’t I put a note to find two rooms?” 

“You wrote ‘honeymoon suite’ and that’s what I got.” Jun replies, obviously not sensing that that was what was wrong with the whole situation. 

“Yes, Jun-ge, but I also wrote two rooms on the note, right?” 

“Dude, two-room honeymoon suites don’t exist.” you can hear Jun chuckling on the other end of the line. You were starting to regret not booking the rooms yourself. 

“Oh.” Nicholas says dumbly. “Okay, that’s cool, thanks Jun-ge.”

“Alright, kid, don’t have too much fun!” Jun laughs before hanging up. You look at Nicholas, attempting to hold your glare but you reckon it slips out regardless. 

“You wrote what in the note?” you ask, voice steadily quiet. 

“Two rooms.” Nicholas avoids your eyes and scratches the back of his neck, with the guiltiest look on his face.

“‘Honeymoon suite’!” you state, jogging his memory. “You couldn’t just leave that out, could you?” 

“Yeah, my bad.” Nicholas admits. 

“Right, well,” you walk into the actual bedroom part. There’s a super king sized bed that takes up most of the room, and it looks very comfortable. “I’ll gladiator fight you for the bed.” 

“That’s not very civilised of you, YN.” he muses. “Rock, paper, scissors-” Nicholas thinks he can take you by surprise, yelling out RPS unexpectedly, but you throw out your hand as a reflex,

“Shoot!” you finish, giving him a paper to his rock. He groans at the loss. 

“Best of three!” 

You roll your eyes before playing again, throwing out scissors this time intuitively. Nicholas threw paper and then sunk to the ground.

“Hah!” you grinned at your victory. “You should have taken your chances in a fight, but I think I would have won that too.” you shrug, faux sympathy coating your voice. Karma’s a bitch, but so were you. “Enjoy sleeping in the bath.”

“Bath?” Nicholas snaps up and runs off to check. 

Indeed, there was no couch in the suite, only a dinning room set up in the small living space, complete with a TV mounted to the wall and a grand bathroom that separated from the master bedroom. Besides a generously spacious shower cabin, there is a huge white bath in the middle of the bathroom, practically the size of a jacuzzi and though giant by nature, Nicholas would probably fit in it. 

He comes back to find you getting comfortable sitting on the bed, legs crossed gloatfully as you watched your husband lose his mind and it was only day one. 

“Fine. Be cruel. I’m fine. It’s fine.” he says, sounding less than convinced. 

“Is it though?” you smirk, loving the way he’s trying to stomach the loss but failing. 

“Yes. Totally. Fine.”

You don’t press it further but lie back on the bed, letting the mattress swallow you up. Vacation wasn’t so bad after all. You might not have Netflix, but you had a personal drama king right in front of you.  

You didn’t get to do anything for the rest of the day since it was storming outside but you had dinner down at the restaurant and eventually went to bed, or in Nicholas’ case, to the bath.

The next morning, you wake up naturally, blissfully rested and stretch with all the grace of a cat. You slept like a rock on this gorgeous bed and you really had to thank Jun for booking this particular room. 

You get up, quietly, and pad over to the bathroom, the door still closed. You pause, then knock on lightly. “Nicholas?” you ask. 

There’s a sleepy groan on the other side of the door, and then a thud. You panic for a second.

“Hey, I’m coming in!” you warn and work the handle. You find Nicholas in the bath in his pyjamas, blanket half-thrown off and the pillow lying on the floor. That explains the thud. “You okay?”

“Hmm,” he grunts, eyes still closed. He shuffles slightly, pulling the blanket and curling up on his side. 

“Alright, well, good morning to you too.” you mutter and leave. 

A while later, a disheveled Nicholas emerges from the bathroom. It must have been the smell of coffee that got him moving because you’re about to drink your first and hopefully only cup of the day. 

“About time, Sleeping Beauty.” you glance at him. You note he most certainly is not a happy ducky in the morning; there’s a deep frown on his face and his posture is giving an uncanny resemblance to a deflated balloon animal. 

“Hmm.” he responds with another grunt. You weren’t sure when exactly, but some time between last night and this morning, your husband seems to have been replaced with a cave man. The two of you hadn’t crossed paths too often in the mornings, so it was kind of news to you to see him like this.  

You sigh and put your coffee down, getting up to go to the pot and pour him a cup. Nicholas sits down stiffly in the opposite chair and you deposit it in front of him. Instead of trying to make conversation with a prehistoric species, you go back to your book, but you see he drinks the coffee. 

Twenty minutes later, you swap the location and find yourselves downstairs having a late breakfast (you refused to call it brunch), munching on whatever to start your day. 

Nicholas looks more like himself now, but you can sense the obvious discomfort from the way he keeps trying to massage his neck and shoulders discreetly, or stretches to try and work the muscle there. He’s wearing a loose fitting, linen button up and every move seems to expose a lot of skin but while you’re trying to ignore it, it doesn’t mean everyone else is. 

People who are sitting at the neighbouring table are throwing occasional slightly suspicious glances. There are some not so discreet wives checking your husband out and not minding their own and even some pretty waitresses smiling as they pass by. You roll your eyes as one in particular can’t seem to look away as she brings you a plate of fruit.

“What?” Nicholas notices that you’re making a face. He himself seems to be oblivious on the other hand. 

“Nothing. Eat your strawberries.” you say quickly, keeping a poker face. You could almost see the smug look that would appear on his face if you told him people were checking him out, so you stayed quiet.

“Right.” 

Back upstairs, Nicholas perches on the vanity table on one side of the room while you rummage around in your suitcase looking for some clothes. You’re aware of how he’s shifting awkwardly and you stop and turn to him. 

“I’m listening.” you state. Nicholas doesn’t say anything for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek and then the other side. 

“Please can I sleep in the bed?” he asks finally. 

“Hey, you lost fair and square.” you go back to looking for your swimsuit. Nicholas tilts his head.

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.” he hums. 

“No.” you say for good measure. “Happy?” 

“Not at all.” he replies. You think he’s going to give it a rest but then a second later he speaks again. “Fine, if I have to sleep in the bath, then give me a massage.” 

“Why me?” 

“Because you’re here.” he says like it’s obvious. “Ooh, better yet, buy me medicine and rub it on my shoulders.” he smiles, hopeful. You knew what he was doing but despite that, it was working. 

You scrunch your forehead, the idea less than appealing to you. You look from Nicholas to the bed, then to Nicholas again, weighing it up in your head. The bed was big enough, you were just going to have to stay on one side. You didn’t want to cause permanent damage after all. (It might scar you for life to massage medicine over his shoulders. And you guess it could do something to his posture or whatever.) 

“Ugh,” you spit out. “alright. You can sleep on one side of the bed.” you specified. “I’m not giving you the whole thing.” 

“Pleasure negotiating with you, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas grins and disappears before you can tell him off for the name calling. 

You get dressed, slipping on your one piece swimsuit and throwing on some shorts, and take your book down to the pool. The weather had cleared up completely compared to yesterday’s torrential downpour and the sun is shining brightly. The pool itself is located in a slightly more sheltered area and it doesn’t look like there was any damage from the rain.

You smile to yourself and find a nice lounge chair to camp out at. You adjust your sunglasses and open your book again to continue where you’d left off. 

“Are your ancestors proud of you yet?” you hear a voice ask before you feel a weight settle near your legs on the lounge chair. You don’t look up at Nicholas, before replying. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should go ask them.” you retort. 

“Oh, I will,” he says. “in like hopefully seventy to eighty years.”

You hum in response, not particularly feeling like playing along right now. Nicholas shuffles about, and you finally look up. 

Big mistake. 

You find him unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his frame. You blinked twice, trying to tear your eyes away from him. 

“Look after this, please.” he says after a moment, indicating to his discarded shirt. It lay half folded next to your bare leg. 

“Sure.” you mumbled. You watched as he threw you an acknowledging half smile and got up. You couldn’t help yourself for a moment; you stared after him. 

It was ground breaking actually. 

You’d not really given it much thought since your predicament was rather serious - life sentence married to a man you didn’t love and all that - but you had eyes and you noticed that your new husband was actually quite hot. 

Who would have thought? 

You clocked the well rounded muscle of his shoulders and back and his toned biceps, and though you avoided really looking (as in, you didn’t pull your shades down), the modest set of abs that graced his torso.

“How novel.” you observed out loud then went back to your book. You didn’t need to ogle at your husband; you weren’t a horny teenager any more. Moreover, this information changed nothing in your life whatsoever. You were still shackled together and sinking to the bottom of the ocean.  

You hear your name being called some time later.

Putting your bookmark in place, you look up to find Nicholas resting on the edge of the pool, his arms crossed and chin resting on top. 

“Yes?” you inquire, taking off your sunglasses to see him better. 

“Can you help me get out?” he asks, looking a little shifty, glancing side to side but there’s no one in your immediate vicinity. Just some people down the other end. You figured it was probably lunch time so it was quiet. 

“Huh?” you’re confused at the request. 

“It’s the deep end. I’m tall, but I’m not that tall.” he admits sheepishly. You guess he must be embarrassed to ask you for help. 

What doesn’t cross your mind is why a) he didn’t go to a shallower part of the pool, b) he didn’t cross to the opposite side and use the ladder!, or c) someone of his stature would struggle getting out of a pool. 

You get up and walk to the edge, extending a hand to him. Nicholas takes your hand in his wet one and you start to pull. 

Except you’re pulling but it’s not working. In fact, the world is suddenly tilting and you’re diving head first into the pool, gravity and Nicholas taking you in with him. You would have yelped but you close your mouth on instinct as you go down so you don’t get a mouthful of water.

The coolness of the water engulfs you suddenly and you struggle to orientate your way up to the surface again. You break through with an angry gasp for air. 

“Wang Yixiang!” you sputter loudly, venom filling up your veins. You hear his laugh somewhere nearby and you wipe your eyes, trying to locate him. He’s a foot away, also drenched, wet hair hanging in his face but smiling widely.

“Here, Sergeant!” he gives you a silly salute and you start toward him, eyes full of vengeance.

“Come back,” you demand after he starts swimming away from you. 

He’s not particularly fast and you manage to grab his hand and yank him back toward you. There’s a lot of water resistance but you’re adrenalised to you manage to get him to change direction. 

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be mad.” he says, well aware that today might be his last day as an alive person. You ignore him and do your best to try and dunk him. It doesn’t really work because he uses your strength against you and the two of you just spin around. You’re off balance and trying to just tread water even though here Nicholas could stand up, which was quite unfair. He stills suddenly. “Oh my god, look!” 

“Not falling for that one, dude,” you say, thinking he was trying to distract you from trying to dunk him. 

“No, really, two o’clock, it’s that man, uh, what did he do again?” Nicholas wracks his brain for a moment. 

“My two o’clock or yours?” you realise he’s being serious and you think to check. 

“Yours. The man with the moustache, we met him at the wedding.” You think back and try to place the description. You’re floating so you manoeuvre around to be able to glance in the right direction.

Sure enough you spot the person Nicholas was talking about. You saw him but he hadn’t spotted you yet.  

“Shit, it’s the tyre guy.” you say. 

“Right, that’s the one.” Nicholas agrees, as if the answer is now clear to him. 

“You had no idea who that man was, did you?” you ask.

“Not a clue,” he admits. “I was grasping at straws. He seemed familiar.” And you realise that it had worked. 

Yet, also it was that man; what was he doing here? Was he on vacation too? From what you remembered he was some business partner on your parents’ side. Your father had introduced you once before and then once at the wedding. 

You freeze, forgetting to tread water. 

Nicholas seems to notice you stop moving and grabs your waist, holding you up so you don’t start to sink. Your hands come up between you as a buffer and slap gently against his chest but you ignore what’s going on in front of you, deep in thought. 

Why was he here of all places? Was it a coincidence? What were the odds of that happening? 

What if your parents had sent him here to spy on you? That was possible right? Surely they wouldn’t do that though, you’d agreed to go on the honeymoon, that was enough, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes, feeling like your sanity was slipping away; it sounded like the type of thing they’d do. Just to make sure you were behaving. 

“Hey, YN, what’s wrong?” Nicholas squeezes your waist, trying to get your attention. You snap back to reality, seeing his concerned face a few inches away from your own. You hand’t noticed how close you were so you let go of Nicholas, breaking out of his grip gently. 

“Nothing,” you say as you swim toward the nearest ladder. 

You were definitely annoyed, your parents couldn’t just leave you alone, could them?

*          

After your early dinner, during which you constantly looked over your shoulder in case you spotted the tyre man, you go back to your room to continue reading. You hadn’t run into that man after all, but it was only a matter of time.  

Nicholas takes the opportunity to shower first after being in the pool, not that you were picky or going to fight him for it. 

The door of the bathroom opens some time later and he emerges with a towel around his head and one around his waist. You try to mind your own business but he’s rummaging around his own suitcase for ages, so damn loudly, might you add, humming and hawing at what to wear. 

You glare in his direction, but his back is to you, and all you see is the excess droplets on his skin snaking their way down his back-

“You having a good time there, Mrs Wang?” he turns around and catches you staring. Your eyes narrow at the name calling and you decide he does it to get a rise out of you, so you don’t give him the satisfaction.  

“I would have a better time if you had the capacity to make faster decisions.” you retort, looking down to your book as he straightens up. 

“No can do, you’d rather me wear clothes in bed, wouldn’t you?” he asks inquisitively. 

“If you dared do otherwise, you would find yourself in a very comfortable chair-” you pause. “in the lobby.” you finish curtly. 

Nicholas raises his hands innocently, giving you a quiet ‘okay’ before going back to the bathroom to get dressed. A minute later you hear the hair dryer come on and another minute he’s back to bug you. 

“Didn’t you finish that book yet?” he asks, trying to see the cover as he went past. 

“No, I started this one an hour ago.” you say. 

“What?” he stops in pure shock. “How many books did you bring?” he exclaims. 

“Ten.” you look up, giving him a tight lipped smile. “One for each day.”

Nicholas looks at you in awe, shaking his head. “YN, you really are something.” he says. “But this cannot be. Your eyes will glaze over, we’re watching TV, c’mon.” he prompts you to move over a little where you’re leaning against the headboard of the bed. 

You shuffle slightly to the right, but don’t let go of your book even as he grabs the remote and switches on the TV. It’s a decently sized flat screen mounted on the wall in front of you, adjacent to the small dinning table. 

Nicholas hops on the bed beside you, mimicking your stretched legs, crossed at the ankles. The noise starts to distract you only because he’s channel flipping for a minute before he settles on something. 

“Perfect.” he mumbles and puts the remote down. You glance up at the screen and see the film name. 

“Really?” you ask, closing your book with a loud smack. “You’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on vacation?” 

“No,” he replies. “We’re going to watch Cast Away while we are on a remote island on our honeymoon.” 

“Yes, because that makes all the difference.” you mutter. You give in regardless since the movie keeps playing and you may as well pay attention. 

It’s kind of a long film but it’s not bad. You do at one moment overthink it and imagine what you’d do if you were in the same situation - you were halfway there anyway on this island - but you stop yourself because that kind of thinking was not a good idea. It would scare you unnecessarily. 

It gets to the part where Tom Hanks is trying to get off the island on his raft and loses his beloved friend, the volleyball. You watch as he yells, trying to stay afloat. It made you a little emotional and you look away for a moment only to notice Nicholas is watching intently, his own eyes glassy and lips tight. 

It fascinates you for a moment to see him like that since it was a wholly new side to him but you will yourself to look away, reaching to the bedside and pulling a tissue out of the box, handing it wordlessly to your husband. 

“Thanks.” he says under his breath and you hum just as quietly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about the wifi signal.” he sniffles. “I miss it so much.” he admits, raising a fist to his mouth. You nod, as if understanding, when in reality you’d basically popped the champagne when you found out there was no wifi.   

After the film finishes, it’s starting to get late so you pop off for a quick shower, wanting to get the chlorine off your body before sleeping. 

You brush your teeth and put on a t-shirt and sleeping shorts and get to bed. Nicholas joins you after brushing his teeth and turning off the big light. 

“Right,” you say, getting Nicholas’ attention. “Here is a line, it’s invisible but it exists, so stick to your side of the bed, please and thank you.”

“No problem. You won’t even know I’m here.” he nods obediently. “So shall we get to bed, Mrs Wang?”

You stop fluffing your pillow at his silly question and turn to give him a stink face. 

“You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?” you ask. 

“Nope, not until death do us part.” he shows you a toothy grin. 

It suddenly occurs to you that while you had shared your reasoning for giving into the marriage, Nicholas so far hadn’t really commented on the topic. You frown. Why hadn’t he mentioned that yet?

“That’s weird.” you say, continuing on your train of thought.

“Not really, it’s pretty standard for marriages.” 

“No, not that.” you shake your head. Starting to overthink it.  

“What then?” Nicholas asks as he lies down on his side. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice there must be something in it for you to agree to this union.” you say sceptically. 

“Pfft. Union. You make it sound so formal.” he replies sarcastically. You notice he isn’t offering any insights.  

“Well, we are legally bound together, unfortunately. I suppose it’s serious.” you reason.

“Yeah, so serious. Like donkeys pulling on a cart.”

“Don’t change the subject.” you quip. “I don’t know what it is you want, but I will find out and hold it over your head like a guillotine.” you warn, annoyed at the sudden suspicious toward the man now in your bed. 

Was this a defence mechanism - getting suspicious as soon as someone got close to you? 

“Can’t wait, ma cherie*. I hope your revolution works out.” Nicholas sighs, turning off the lamp on his side. 

“Impeccable attempt at humour, mon ange*.” you roll your eyes before reaching to your bedside lamp. “And by the way, donkeys pull their own damn carts.” you say, flipping the switch and turning your back to him. 

You fall asleep faster than you expected but it certainly has its drawbacks. 

For one, every once in a while you wake up because Nicholas has somehow managed to roll to your side of the bed and is hogging your area with his giantness, limbs splaying all over you, waking you up. 

You manage to shoulder him off you gently, using your strength to roll him back to his side and it seems he’s a heavy sleeper because he doesn’t wake when you end up pushing him away with your knees. 

You go back to sleep, satisfied that he’s far away enough from you that you can sleep in peace, only to wake up the next morning feeling incredibly warm and suffocated. 

That’s because Mr You-Won’t-Even-Know-I’m-Here has a vice grip on you; one leg thrown over yours and one heavy arm thrown over your waist while his face is tucked into your hair, as if you were one of those long, huggable body pillows.

You open your eyes and reach for your phone to check the time. It was 9-ish so you decide that’s enough anyway. You were going to wake him up. 

“Nicholas?” you say, voice croaky. You shuffle slightly, managing to drop his leg off of yours but the arm stays around your waist. “Nicholas?” you try again, patting his bicep gently. This time he stirs slightly, a low hum rumbling in his chest. You feel the vibration on your back and think you’re making progress. 

It’s difficult but you shimmy out from under his loosened grip and sit up while he automatically rolls on his back, eyes still closed. 

“Unbelievable.” you shake your head, looking down at his sleeping figure, before getting up. He looks way too peaceful and it makes you a little mad. You make no effort to be quiet since he was still out cold and probably won’t wake up for ages so you get ready for the day, make some coffee and sit with your book. 

Some time later, your husband finally decides to open his eyes and you look in his direction when he sits up and stretches, yawning like a cat. 

“Ah,” he exhales gruffly. “this bed is dope, oh my god.” he comments. “Did you sleep well?” he asks nonchalantly. You send a death glare in his direction, making him shrink back slightly. 

“I would have,” you start through gritted teeth. “if you weren’t trying to strangle me.” 

“Huh?” he has the nerve to look genuinely confused. “Did I do something?” he asks, meek all of a sudden. 

“I don’t know if anyone has ever told you,” you get up, getting closer to the bed. “but you are a heinous koala when you sleep!” you say pointedly, before going into the bathroom to get some sunscreen out of your makeup bag. 

“Nuh-uh,” you hear Nicholas call out. He has the audacity to disagree. You’re back out in a split second, listening expectantly. “Apologise to koalas, that was uncalled for.” he finishes. You’re taken aback; you thought he’d call bullshit and say you’d imagined it. 

You huff but ultimately concede; the creatures had never done anything to you personally. “Sorry, koalas.” you mumble and sit in front of the vanity to apply sunscreen on your face.

“Listen, I’m sorry,” Nicholas says, getting up. “I know I’m practically an ogre in the mornings, but I can’t help it.”  

“At least you’re self-aware.” you reply. “I’ll tolerate it for eight more days, but you’re on thin ice.” 

“Alright.” he says, closing the bathroom door. 

*

The next few days, the weather improves significantly and the two of you end up going to the beach or chilling by the pool. You even go to do this snorkelling lesson with an instructor and swim near some coral reefs, enjoying the beautiful crystal clear ocean. 

You also end up going to a spa for some random treatments out of boredom and a massage, which you weren’t too hot on but Nicholas begged you to join him since he didn’t want to go alone. (That and he said that you wouldn’t go because you were comfortable being a tense control freak. So of course you had to prove him wrong by sticking around. It was worth it.)

Another day you end up going out in a boat and fishing with some other guests at the resort. You had to admit, you were definitely having fun despite not having wanted to even go on vacation. Going fishing wasn’t something you’d ever thought about doing, yet here you were.

It’s then that you run into the tyre man for the first time. 

Fishing; you should have known that’s where you’d meet the middle aged businessman.

“Mrs Wang!” you hear a hearty voice greet you when he spots you. You almost grimace - you wished you’d told people to keep calling you by your own family name. Nicholas seems slightly startled next you while he holds his fishing rod. 

“Hi, Mr Lee, what a surprise!” you say, lying shamelessly. You’d been expecting to bump into him before he left. “How are you doing?” 

The man stops next to your spot at the rail of the boat, his own rod in hand and some bait in a bowl in the other. A woman joins him and you remember that’s his wife, whom you’d also met at the wedding. You greet her politely too. 

“Ah, well, we’re just out for some relaxation. You know how it is, can’t be cooped up in the office all the time.” Mr Lee replies. He doesn’t seem suspicious and you sense it could be possible that this was a coincidence and not a conspiracy. But you intuition doesn’t let up.  

“Right, of course.” you nod along. “We’re just here on our honeymoon.” you say, nudging Nicholas beside you. 

“Aha, really wanted to spend this special time in a special place.” he adds smoothly. 

“As well, you should. You’re young and in love, you shouldn’t waste away in an office.” he commends you. Was he testing you? Why mention love at all? What did he know?  

“Very true.” you say. “So, how long are you staying?” you ask casually.

“Oh, um, until Thursday.” he says, and you latch onto the slight air of awkwardness when he says that. You were staying until Friday, which was a little too close to your liking. “We really like it here but there’s no place like home, right?”

“Indeed,” you smile artificially. “Well, we should let you go. Enjoy the rest of your trip, we’ll see you back at home, Mr Lee. Mrs Lee.” you say politely, greeting each of them in turn. 

“Yes, thank you, we will. Y’know, there is a special event being held by the hotel on Wednesday, you should come along.” Mr Lee says. You wonder for a moment if that was bait. If it was then you were going to make him think he could hook, line and sink you. 

“Oh really?” you say, exaggeratedly fascinated. “Well, I guess we’ll have to think about it. No promises though; you know how hard it is to leave the bedroom on your honeymoon.” you drawled with a straight face. 

You hoped he would give that direct quote to your parents and make them as flustered as he looked right now. 

“Right, see you.” 

And with that you exchange some more polite nods, and separate, the Lees terrorised and Nicholas wide eyed to your left as he cast out his fishing rod.

“YN, I gotta hand it to you, you’re really scary sometimes.” he says so only you can hear him. 

“Only sometimes?” you reply, putting the bait on your line. “Guess I should work harder then.”

“Remind me to not get on your bad side again.” he says. 

“Oh buddy,” you sigh. “after using me as a body pillow, you have a reserved spot and VIP access.”

*

The next couple of days, the humidity is unbearable and if it isn’t, then it’s the heat. 

You’d been trying to sleep, but it was just too damn hot and the air con wasn’t doing much to help it. You’d shed any blankets and just had sheets instead, but even those got thrown off. 

Eventually Nicholas pokes you hesitantly in the middle of the night.

“You sleeping?” he whispers. You shift, then answer. 

“I was trying to.” you reply. 

“YN, it’s really hot, can we take off our clothes?” he asks. Perhaps the question would have flustered you if you weren’t completely baking right now. You don’t open your eyes but you nod.

“Yeah, I don’t want either of us passing out from excessive heat.” you agree and shrug off your shorts but realise that you needed to get up and put on a bra or cami since there was nothing under your t-shirt. “Damn it.” you mutter and get up, in search of something to wear. 

You settle on a thin camisole and hop back into bed. Nicholas has shed his shorts and shirt and is lying, just staring at the ceiling in his underwear, his hands behind his head. You don’t let your eyes linger, mostly because they’re too tired and you want to close them again. 

You read the clock on your phone, finding it was just past 4 in the morning. You sigh and lie back down.

Neither of you seems to be able to fall asleep again, the dawn light getting more intense past your curtains. 

“You awake?” Nicholas asks, shifting slightly. 

“Yeah.” you say, turning to face him. You spot the silver chain around his neck and the way it reflects the early morning light.

“What if we’re married for a long time?” he asks in the darkness. “Like for years?”

You wonder what sparked that thought. “We’ll just have to deal with it.” you reply. 

“Yeah, but eventually we’re going to start having needs.” Nicholas glances at you. “Like I’m going to want to sleep with someone and you’re going to want to sleep with someone. Then what? Do we sleep with other people? Do we sleep with each other? How do we get around that?”

The whole train of questions catches you off guard, however with even a second of consideration, you realise he’s raised a very valid concern. What would you do? It made you realise your marriage was more doomed than you’d thought. 

“You’re right. It’s a hard question that I don’t have the answer to.” you lament.

“Right,” he says, pausing for a while. “I guess, for me, I wouldn’t want to sleep with other people - I’d feel like I was cheating on you even if we agreed to go out and do that.”

“Really?” you’re genuinely surprised at the revelation. “You would feel like that even though you have no feelings for me?”

“Well yeah, we’re married and all that. And we’re friends right?”

You find yourself nodding in the darkness. “Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t feel nice to do that to a friend.”

“Would you sleep with someone else?” 

You take a moment to think. “Probably not. I’d keep thinking about you, waiting for me at home, in our house. I wouldn’t be able to do it.” you tell him honestly. 

It strikes you that this was possibly the deepest conversation you’d had so far, fittingly left for the middle of the night. 

“‘Our house’.” he repeats, tasting the words and letting them float up above you and into the early dawn gloom. 

“Strange, right?” you muse. 

“So, what are we concluding on the topic?” he asks, looking at you.

“The jury’s still out.” you shrug, unconvinced. 

“So diplomatic, Mrs Wang.” Nicholas laughs quietly.  

“Will you stop calling me that?” you yawn.

“Nah, it’s fun. You get so worked up about it.” he tells you. 

“So you like raising my blood pressure?” you inquire.

“Well, if we’re going to be married for years, I gotta find a way to entertain myself, don’t I?”

“You are a menace.” you state, no force behind your words. 

“Thank you. Right back at you.”

“Hah, I got news for you. This town is only big enough for one menace, and if it’s gonna be one of us damn it, it’s gonna be me.” you say stoically, but burst out laughing a split second later after hearing yourself back. You were feeling goofy; it was 4am. Nicholas finds it equally funny and laughs with you. 

It was then that you felt like you were finally comfortable around each other, at least enough to be staying up until morning, laughing about bullshit while lying around in your underwear.

Because that’s totally the sort of thing married friends did, right?

*

You wake up, barely conscious and notice your arm is slightly trapped. Then you realise why; you were tucked into Nicholas’ side, your head on his shoulder, hand on his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your fingers. It would have been a surprise and you would have scrambled off, but your limbs were too tired and too comfortable for any excessive movement.

Your eyes close again, and you let yourself drift off even though you had half the thought about what kind of dramatic reaction Nicholas might have to find you in that position after you’d given him a mouthful about being a koala. In your defence, it was his arm around you keeping you smushed together. 

The next time you wake up, you’re lying on your back, Nicholas still right next to you. You get up quietly, starting to get ready for the day. 

You’d agreed to go to that event thing the Lees had told you about because you’d mentioned to Nicholas that this could be some kind of ploy by your parents and you wanted to investigate. There was ice cream and booze so he didn’t need much convincing really. (Neither did you, if you were honest; you could use a bit of both).

Just as you’re putting the finishing touches of your makeup, Nicholas stirs and yawns loudly before sitting up. He spots you before the vanity, basically ready and checks the time. 

“Jeez, why didn’t you wake me?” he asks, swinging off the bed and hurrying to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, did you just hear yourself?” you call out to him. “Wake? You up?” you cap your mascara and get up, walking over to lean on the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed. You see Nicholas scrambling about, large form folded over the tiny sink, to brush his teeth at a furious speed. “I would rather go wake an actual sleeping lion up.” 

“Fwine, bwut you clould at weast teth am aalarm.” he says through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, dude.” you walk away, letting him struggle with the mint foam. 

When you get down to lunch (it was far too late to even attempt calling it brunch), you find that the event the Lees mentioned was going to start in just over an hour (it really was late thanks to your middle of the night joint existential crisis). 

After you finish eating, you make your way to the large garden of the hotel where the thing was going to take place. You were walking in blind pretty much, having no idea what on Earth was going on. 

There are at least ten or so tables set up and about twice as many guests, mostly couples by the look of it, seated within the area. There’s a small square mat or something of the sort in front of the tables, supposedly like a makeshift stage. Was this going to be some kind show? 

You spot the Lees just as promised at one of the tables and you start to look for another place to sit, but they notice you and call you over. 

“Shit,” you mutter, automatically reaching to your side to find Nicholas’ hand. 

“Double shit,” he says, taking your hand and lacing your fingers, and you look back at him. “look.” he motions to a poster propped up on an easel. 

You feel like you’re about to find some harder expletives when you read the words written in big bubble letters: 

COUPLES CONTEST 

“Oh my-” you can’t even finish the sentence.

You’d just walked into the adult version of those awkward middle school events that teachers would try to entertain students with.  

“We could still leave?” Nicholas suggests quietly. You want to agree but Mrs Lee is smiling from across the garden at you, sipping on her drink. 

“Too late.” you conclude and start walking to the half-filled table. 

“Well, you don’t know they’re spies for your parents.” Nicholas mumbles unhelpfully. “We might just hang out politely.” 

You reach the table and greet the Lees. You take a seat closest to Mrs Lee and Nicholas away from both of them. You felt like you were acting like protective buffer between him and them. 

“Oh YN, I just got off the phone with your mother-” Mrs Lee gushes to you immediately. “you remember we’re both part of that book club?” she says, as if it’s explanatory that she would be close to your mother. “Anyways, we were talking about how maybe you should join too, it might be fun. You could make friends with the other ladies there,” she suggests, “and between you and me,” she leans closer as if the men at the table can’t hear you. “it’s where we go to get away from our husbands, but shh!” 

You’re having a multitude of reactions under the surface (including searing rage towards your mother, wanting to sink into the ground out of awkwardness, and disappointed smugness that you were right that they were in cahoots with your parents) but you give her a polite chuckle and smile. 

You know she was just trying to be her version of friendly, for some reason that being recruiting you into some kind of married-women-who-don’t-want-to see-their-husbands exclusive club, so you don’t get too mad. 

“Well, I do like reading, but I think I think I like my husband more.” you reply, lightly rejecting the offer. You turn to look at Nicholas, giving him an ‘I-told-you-so’ face while he sighs contemplatively. You were also hung up on the fact that this woman called your mother more than you did, so who knows what other wack ideas she might have. 

“Darling, I don’t think Mrs Wang wants to go to that stuffy book club.” Mr Lee cuts in awkwardly. “Besides, these two are much younger than us, they should go on dates and enjoy themselves instead of boring themselves with books.” 

Oh boy, this was going to be a long afternoon. 

You had a lot to say but you weren’t going to utter a single syllable. Nicholas looks down helplessly, and you guess he’s trying to keep himself from laughing.  

Fortunately, at that pause in your conversation, you spotted two people walking up to the square ‘stage’. They looked like hotel employees, judging from their Hawaiian style shirts, one with a loud tiger print and the other with a large flower pattern. They were carrying microphones and tapped on them to check they were working. 

“Hello?” the flower guy said. His voice came out through the modest speakers set up on either side of the segregated area. He seems satisfied and so does his friend. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to our monthly couples contest!” he paused for a polite round of applause. “My name is Boo and I will be one of your MCs today.”

“And I’m Hoshi, your other MC this afternoon. We have a great few rounds of fun lined up for you and an exciting prize for the winning team.” the guy with the tiger print continues. 

“That’s right,” Boo says. “there are three games where each of our teams will compete head to head in an attempt to do the impossible - be the best couple!” 

“Firstly, if you take a look around, you will find our lovely assistant Dino coming around with some name tags; please take one and write your names on them.” Hoshi says. You did notice a guy in a regular employee shirt walking around and depositing said name tags on each table swiftly. 

“Alright, to start off, we have a game that will test your communication skills.” Boo announces. “The game is called ‘scream in silence’; here are the rules…”

You listen carefully as he explained it, even though you had seen this game played before. It was fairly simple so you thought you and Nicholas might do well at it. You just couldn’t believe you were trapped in a middle school dance on your honeymoon. 

“Okay, firstly, we’re going to need to split you up so that we can get through the game faster. Each of us will conduct a round and tally up the scores for you.” Hoshi takes over. Two of them split up the crowd into two and ask for the first teams to come to two chairs facing each other set up by Dino on each side of the area. 

You get split up from the Lees (thankfully) and end up sitting on Hoshi’s side of the garden. 

The game starts and you watch as one person out of the couple starts trying to mouth the correct word to the other as they both wear a pair of large noise cancelling headphones. It’s pretty fun since people are really awful at lipreading. 

You’re the third couple in your half of the crowd and you sit down in the opposite seat to Nicholas, the two of you putting on the headphones. It almost blows your mind how much you couldn’t hear through the headphones, and that was before Hoshi turned the music on. He held up the first word. 

“Lawn mower.” you said, trying your best to enunciate to Nicholas. His face immediately scrunches up, squinting at you from seven feet away. “Lawn mower!” you repeat. 

He mouths something that looks a lot like “Slower!” back to you and you shake your head, sure it was wrong. He tries again but you cut him off, starting to feel yourself becoming competitive. 

“La-wn mo-wer!” you try to break it down but he seems more confused. “Pass!” you shake your head. 

“Fishing.” you say as Hoshi shows you the next word. Nicholas blinks at you.

“Kissing?” he replies, frowning at the word. You weren’t sure how you managed to lip read it but you were sure that’s what he was saying. 

“No, fi-shing!” you attempt to break it down. “Fi-shing!” you were starting to get frustrated, your voice rising in decibels. “Fi-shing!” 

“Missing!” Nicholas tried again. You sighed.

“Pass!” you requested again. The next one was a phrase and it made you hesitate. “I love you.” you called out, just focusing on reading the phrase and not thinking about it. You felt so flustered saying it out loud, your face warming up and blood pressure rising. You didn’t think you’d ever actually say those words, especially not to your husband. 

Nicholas shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know.” you think he said. You steeled yourself, growing frustrated again, mostly with the appearance of the phrase and the way it mocked your situation. 

“I love you.” you tried again, saying it louder this time, as if he would hear you.

“Above you?” Nicholas said. You looked up, rolling your eyes at his denseness. 

“I love you, you bastard!” you screamed out, lying aggressively, noticing that people in your group were pissing themselves with laughter. 

Nicholas paused for a moment, mouth slightly ajar as the cogs turned in his head. The eureka moment came finally and he clapped his hands together. That got your attention and you perked up expectantly. 

“I love you!” he yelled back. Hoshi gave you an approving sign, telling you you secured a point. 

“And the time is up!” Hoshi declared, raising a hand and doing a slicing action at his neck to let you know since you couldn’t really hear him. You were more than happy to take those humongous headphones off and return to your seat. “That’s one point for YN and Nicholas!” he says while there’s a scattered round of applause. 

You go sit down and try to ignore what just happened. Nicholas does too, watching the game ahead of you.

There’s only one other couple in your group that manages to score a point, one Hanbin and Hao, who were just as tragically terrible at the game but very cute while they played it.

“And that’s the first round over,” Boo announces. “Let us tally the scores - oh my! This was not your lucky day every one, but we do have two couples who scored and are therefore in the lead.”

“Don’t be discouraged everyone, it’s still all to play for.” Hoshi says. “The next game might be somewhat easier. It’s a game to test your couple chemistry; the peppero game!”

You sit there trying to discern what that actually constitutes. 

“What is the peppero game?” Nicholas whispers to you, just as confused. There seems to be an excited buzz around you though because apparently people know what that is or think they might do better at it than the other one. 

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a corporate lawyer.” you whisper back. You never thought that some random game may become your greatest intellectual obstacle. 

It’s when Boo calls up the first group and explains the rules that it sinks in. You watch as each couple takes a peppro stick snack and holds it between their lips, starting to munch on it from both sides, slowly making their way to meet in the middle. The objective is to have the smallest length of peppero stick remaining at the end.  

“So that’s the peppero game.” Nicholas says, dumbfounded. 

“You shouldn’t have asked dumb questions.” you scold him quietly. 

“I can’t help it sometimes, okay?” he hisses back.

Once the first group is finished and the MCs take measurements, they don’t disclose the results before calling the rest of the couples up. You and Nicholas reluctantly step up and face each other. Boo comes around and offers you the pack of peppero and you pick one out, holding it up. 

You have to get quite a bit closer to Nicholas and his hands comes up to rest on your shoulders to hold you in place as you bite on one end and offer him the other. Due to his struggles as a giant, Nicholas has to lean in a fair distance to make it work and you try your best to rise to your fullest height. 

“And begin!” Hoshi calls out, getting the game started. You take tiny bites of the snack, forced to stare at your husband up close because your eyes could go nowhere else. 

Your mouth focuses on not dropping the stick but your eyes focus on Nicholas; there’s the colour of his eyes, they way his eyelashes become more prominent when he blinks at you, and the way you can see your own reflection in his eyes as you get closer. 

Nicholas looks you straight in the eye, your noses just shy of touching and you accidentally bite down harder on the stick, severing it cleanly. 

“Ah,” you breathe, realising your mistake. “Sorry.” 

He lets go of you and takes the stick between his fingers, examining it. There was a lot left, at least 3cm or so. 

You wait for the rest of the couples to finish and hand in your pathetic peppero remnants to Hoshi, who immediately makes a face. 

“Oh guys,” he says then raises the mic. “well we know who definitely lost the game. Sorry, you two.” he smiles apologetically. 

“Now that everyone has had a go, we can reveal that there was actually a penalty for the losers.” Boo says, basking in the crowd’s laughter. 

“Oh lord, here we go.” you mutter. Before you can leave, Boo stops you.

“I’m afraid you’re staying, guys.” he says. “This game was supposed to check your couple chemistry and sadly you had a less than favourable result.”

“Since we don’t want to send you away feeling crappy about it, the penalty is simple and sweet; kiss and makeup for losing the game.” Hoshi tells you. 

You have a serious déjà vu back to your wedding where a crowd was watching the two of you kiss. It makes your stomach twist with eminent embarrassment. Not again, you think. 

“Oh come, don’t look so glum!” Hoshi continues. “Cheer up, let’s give them a hand everyone!” he encourages a round of applause but in your mind it gets worse. 

You’d avoided looking directly at Nicholas but you found him watching you expectantly and you turn to him, leaning in to initiate the kiss. The faster you did it, the better. He seems to catch on and leans to peck your lips half-way. Your mouths barely touch but you did it and smile in what you hope appears a natural way. 

You look out to the crowd, seeing they’re looking back at you awkwardly. Judgmentally even.  

“Now what was that?” Boo questions. “That might have been more pathetic than your peppero, you guys.” he taunts you gently. 

“Aren’t you newly weds?” Hoshi asks, surprisingly observant of the wedding rings on your fingers. “This is your honeymoon, you gotta have more passion than that!” he says excitedly, as if he was the one getting kissed. You glance at him, finding something in his eyes that may or may not suggest madness. You were also starting to think he might have a voyerism thing.  

“Hey, this is peer pressure!” Nicholas attempts, trying to get you out of the MCs grip. 

“It’s for your own good, bro, we’re trying to save your marriage.” Hoshi says to you, microphone not quite picking up all of that.  

“Just a quick kiss,” Boo pleads. “or we’ll feel like we failed you.” 

You can’t help but laugh at his logic. It’s clear that they’re just trying to have fun so you give in, stepping up to Nicholas again, who gives you a reassuring nod. 

You lean in again, eyes closing, willing yourself to tune everything out. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek, holding you steady as your lips mold over his. You kiss your husband for the nth time; you were losing count but you were well aware that it was a finite number that you could count on your fingers. 

Ignoring everyone seems to help because you relax into the kiss and pull yourself closer to him intuitively, imagining you were back in that tunnel where you’d tried kissing the first time. It was hard to deny it, but Nicholas was a good kisser, whether he had been before you met or it was just that you’d practised together, and this kiss was no exception. 

It was good. 

Dizzyingly good. 

You pull away gently, feeling that you needed air, your heart beating faster than usual. The two of you look at each, unsure when you should really pull away. There’s a momentary silence and then a loud round of applause and you figure that’s a good cue to really separate and hurry back to your seats. 

“Wow, now that’s what you call a kiss!” Hoshi hollered, smiling widely. “Thank you for being good sports, and good luck on the next round.”

You wanted to call it irony. 

That’s what the strangest moments in life contained. You’d been pushed into an arranged marriage with a man you didn’t love, yet you had grown closer despite your circumstance, to the point where physical acts of affection were exchanged between you in public and you weren’t ready to die on the spot. 

So you did call it irony; the fact that you’d been so ready to resent Nicholas from day one but had become friends with him instead. Did friends kiss like that, you wondered. Married ones did, you supposed. 

There was a part of you that wished you didn’t feel the way you just did: as if you wanted to kiss him again. It was bothering you a little, a tiny voice in the back of your head, telling you that no matter what face you tried to pull and pretend to be angry that you’d had to kiss him, you were deep down glad you’d gotten to kiss him again. 

It felt like you were starting to develop a bad habit; the way one piece of chocolate sometimes becomes another, or one episode becomes three, and five more minutes of sleep becomes an hour. You made a note to avoid kissing him for a while, in case you started to spiral. 

It wasn’t a crime to want to kiss your husband but in your case, it could become dangerous.

For now, you told yourself it was probably just liking the physical intimacy that you’d been missing in your life and nothing more. Purely one of those pyramid needs things you’d read about.  

You can’t dwell on it too long because Boo announces the final game.

“We’ve tested your communication and your chemistry, now it’s time to test how well you know each other in a couple quiz!” 

“That’s right, this is simply a game of knowledge about your other half, shouldn’t be difficult, right everyone?” Hoshi chimes in. 

The thought occurs to you that you might be slightly disadvantaged this round since you’d met not that long ago but also weren’t a ‘real’ couple so to speak, but then you remembered the few basic notes you’d swapped between yourselves and change your mind - you might be better equipped than the other couples. 

Boo and Hoshi get each couple to write down five questions and their answers on a different piece of paper and invite each couple to do the quiz in front of everyone for fair judgment. 

You don’t need to tell Nicholas what kind of questions to write down because it was obvious - the stuff from the memos you’d shared. Was it cheating? You wouldn’t think so; technically nothing could have ever stopped other couples from doing the same thing as you. Besides, you were certain other people aimed for questions they were certain their partner would know. 

It was so obvious, it was practically an unspoken rule of the game. 

As expected, most couples do very well, only missing one or two answers, or if there was more, probably because they knew each other way too well and had a wider margin for mistakes and overthinking. 

You sat around waiting for your turn, but you ended up going last out of the whole group. You and Nicholas took to the floor, picking up the A4 whiteboards supplied by the MCs and getting ready to answer the questions. 

You did Nicholas’ questions first.

What was his favourite meal? You could have answered that just from living with him for a few weeks but you knew the official answer. 

If he could eat one fruit for the rest of his life, what would it be? It was so easy, you rolled your eyes as you wrote it down.

What style of dancing had he practiced during high school? Your pen started moving before Boo even finished asking the question.

What was the name and brand of his favourite cologne? This one annoyed you slightly because it wasn’t something you’d explicitly talked about but you had noticed in your shared bathroom at home. 

And finally, what was his birthday and star sign? You gave them the sun, moon, and ascendant just to be sure, memories from your memos. 

You finessed the challenge, giving the audience in front of you a smug finger gun and wink because of them had really struggled with answering their spouse’s questions. While you’re up there, you spot the Lees giving you a subtle thumbs up and you smile at them, genuinely for once. You’d almost forgotten they were there and also spying on you for your mother. 

You hoped they would relay everything they saw today and get her off your back. 

It was Nicholas’ turn to answer your questions and you’d really tried to keep them as simple as possible, asking things like your own star sign, hometown, favourite school subject back in the day, favourite colour (were you in kindergarten? today you might as well be), and your coffee order, which was one of the first memos you’d given Nicholas. 

He aces it just like you did, and you’re a little proud of him for remembering even this much about you. 

“Well, you saw it here first folks, we have another perfect team.” Hoshi announces. “We’re going to ask our other top scorers, Hanbin and Hao to get up here for a tie-breaker.”

Uh-oh. You started to panic at the prospect of more questions and especially because they would be of the unseen variety. 

“You did so well that we’re going to need to get some bonus questions in there, stuff that will make you think on your feet.” Boo informs the four of you. You’ll go first since you’re already sitting there. “We’ll do three questions each.”

This time you’d both write an answer down on the whiteboards instead of the hosts fact checking on the piece of paper. 

It was in that moment, that you accepted you’d already lost. There was no way you’d beat anyone when you’d known each other for like two months.  

“Nicholas, what is YN’s favourite time of day?” Boo asks. You think carefully about what Nicholas might say and try to write an answer down to match it. 

You think simply and thank whoever that it was an easy question. 

You both hold up your answer and check. A wave of relief washes over you.

Nicholas had written 4am on his board, matching yours. It was an obvious one since you’d stayed up that late just this morning. 

Nicholas manages to get another question right (it was about your job title, which almost makes you laugh because could they have picked better questions for you?) but misses the third one because it was simply impossible for him to know. 

“We’re going to get a little spicy now for the final one, if that’s okay.” Hoshi begins. “Where on her body, does your wife like being kissed?”

“Please do keep the answers moderately PG.” Boo pleads you before you write. Your heart is racing because you know this will be wrong.

You write ‘cheek’, hoping it’s generic enough to get you the point, but Nicholas writes ‘neck’ and you throw him a glare. He shrugs innocently. 

“Oh no, what a shame!” Hoshi exclaims. “Very close to perfection, but not quite. Now, let’s see if YN can match or better your score.” 

You’re asked about Nicholas’ shoe size and you think hard, trying to remember if you’d ever seen an actual number. By some miracle, you guess the correct number after taking a little longer to answer the question.

“Right, so far so good.” Boo says, leading up to the next question. “What is Nicholas’ love language?” 

You freeze. 

Not good, very not good. 

You wracked your brain, trying to figure it out on the spot. In the end you write ‘physical affection’ because of the way he never leaves you untouched in bed and hope for the best. Nicholas turns his board around and you sigh at the ‘acts of service’ scribbled there. 

“Oh disaster strikes again!” Hoshi squeaks. “YN, you have one more question before we hand it over to your competitors.” 

“We’re going for another spicy question, as is customary.” Boo continues. All you hear is ‘game over’ in your head, flashing in big red letters. “If given the chance, what is the freakiest public location Nicholas would want you to partake in the act of coitus?”

You felt like throwing yourself down a flight of stairs. 

Translation - where does he want to fuck?

Low key it was a super personal question but also awkward since you were in a group setting, even if you were all adults here. 

You had no idea, so you just wrote down the first thing that popped into your head: ‘balcony’.

“And now, the big reveal…” Hoshi trails off dramatically. You’re so over this and just want to go back to the comfort of your hotel room and hide from the world until you left the island. 

You turn the boards and your suspicions are confirmed. You lost.

Nicholas had written ‘conference room’. 

For a moment, you think about why he wrote that and then it sends you spiralling; you could have easily answered that question with just an ounce of thought. The war room, of course. Why didn’t you think of that? 

“Ohhh, so close yet so far!” Hoshi says. “I’m sorry guys, but that’s three out of six for you, if Hanbin and Hao can get four or more, they win. Thank you for playing, good job!”

You thank the MCs and sit down, watching while Hanbin and Hao got question after question right. They won the round so easily, that it was laughable. 

“Welp, at least we tried.” Nicholas nudges your arm.

“Sorry I messed up.” you say.

“It’s fine, it’s not like we knew any of the answers.” he says simply, absolving you of blame. 

In the end, Hanbin and Hao are the overall winners because they had managed a point in the scream in silence game, a good score in the peppero game and a complete sweep in the quiz. Their prize is pretty fun too - a free twenty-four hours renting a yacht around the island.

“Congratulations! Now, a speech from our winners, please guys, say a few words.” Boo asks. 

Hao seems too stunned to speak so Hanbin takes over, a big smile on his face. 

“Woah, well we didn’t expect to do so well. We only got married in April and we’ve been too busy working to get a vacation, so it’s really amazing to get such a nice surprise. Thank you for playing everyone and thanks to our wonderful MCs!” he wraps up nicely and you applaud, smiling as they both sat down. 

“Lovely!” Boo says when the clapping dies down. “Right, everyone, just before we go, we do have one more thing to announce. We have a runner’s up prize too; a romantic dinner and stargazing experience for two.” 

“Sounds like a treat, right?” Hoshi chimes in. “We can now reveal that our runner up couple is…YN and Nicholas!” 

You hear your names being called and you find yourself confused.

You had scored in the first game, completely failed the second, but managed to get runner up in the third, so it did in fact add up, but it still felt strange. 

“Congrats, you two. See us afterwards so we can fill you in.” Boo instructs. “Well, everyone. Thank you for a delightful afternoon. We hope you enjoyed yourselves as much as we always do. We’ll wish you a pleasant evening and another congratulations to all our winners! This has been Boo…”

“And Hoshi! See you later, folks!” they finish in unison. You had to hand it to them, they’d been very fun hosts and you had had a good time despite thinking you’d be stuck making awkward small talk with the Lees all afternoon. (You were almost sure that being separated from them had been the stroke of luck that had saved your day.) 

“I can’t believe we actually won something. What a weird day.” Nicholas muses as the crowd slowly disperses. 

“There are stranger things in life, are there not?” you reply, tempting him into a philosophical discussion. 

“Nope, no more thinking. We got a dinner to claim.” he smiles.

*  

In some ways it was fitting that your last night on the island would be so special. 

The dinner you’d won was really amazing and you enjoyed the food thoroughly on the balcony of the largest restaurant in the resort. 

You could see the stars between the clouds when they became clearer as the night grew darker. It was worth any momentary embarrassment you’d felt yesterday while competing in the couple contest.

It was getting late by the time you finished your meal so you decided to go and get some sleep since you’d be waking up early tomorrow for your flight home. 

By the time you left the restaurant, a dark cover of dense clouds had converged in the sky and hid the stars from you as you slowly strolled back to the hotel. 

“Aren’t you glad we came?” Nicholas asks suddenly. He’s moving with some energy despite having mirrored the way you stuffed yourself with food. You, on the other hand, were half a step behind, feeling the weight of your decisions, you had no intention of eating again for at least another day. 

You thought for a moment, assessing the collection of good times you’d accumulated over the past week and a bit, then considered for a moment how the hell you were going to deal with getting back to work. Somehow, all the fun you had outweighed your incoming stress. 

“Yeah, I’m glad we came.” you admit. Nicholas is smiling when he glances at you, a little proud he convinced you probably. 

You seem to have spoken too soon because in the next split second you feel a series of rain drops falling on your face and then a rapid succession which gets starts to drench you before you can even react. 

“Shit, you really know how to jinx things, don’t you?” Nicholas comments, squinting as the rain gets harder, but you see him smiling. You’re in the middle of a narrow street and nowhere to take cover.

“You started it!” you reply, infected by his smile. You raise a hand to shelter your eyes from the rain as you look around. There was no one else out.  

“Come on!” he grabs your hand and starts running, dragging you behind him. Your legs start moving against your will and you follow him, hoping you’re headed in the right direction since it’s difficult to see in the rain.

The heavens open up torrential rain on the two of you but as you run in between the rain drops, your hand secured in Nicholas’, you can’t help but laugh when he does. 

You felt so liberated for a moment.

You didn’t think about work, or the fact that the only reason you were here was because your parents had decided to derail your life, you just ran, as carefree as a kid, splashing through puddles, ruining your sundress and sneakers. 

You thought about how you’d only ever seen this happen in movies; how it was some big romantic moment where the leads run and laugh and look all in love as they get drenched, but the reality was that it was exhausting, even if still a little fun, as you tried your best not to lose Nicholas in the curtain-like rain. 

It only takes a minute to get to the hotel and you burst through the doors, startling the nightshift staff at the desk and you chuckle at their stunned then relieved faces.

You’re both panting, you more than Nicholas since clearly only one of you worked out, and you will your lungs not to explode as you catch your breath. 

Nicholas turns to you, face lit up despite the end to your night. “You look like you just swam here.” he says, bringing a hand to your forehead to move the wet strands away. You pause for a moment, surprised by how tenderly he brushes his finger tips against your skin, pushing the hair away. 

“Yeah, well, you look like a wet dog.” you retort sassily despite being short of air. It was true that you both did, drenched from head to toe and to the bone. 

“Okay, I’ll acknowledge it, let’s go shower before we catch a cold.” 

You get back to your room, feeling a little guilty that you’d been dripping all over the hotel’s plush carpets, but you had no choice. 

“You can go first.” Nicholas says, already unbuttoning his soaked through shirt.

“What about you though?” you ask, taking off your shoes. “You should dry off at least, you might get cold.”

“I’ll be fine, just go.” he insists. You’re about to let it go but he sneezes, trying to cover it up with clearing his throat.

“Fine, my ass.” you sigh. “Okay, this is a simple problem so there must be a simple solution.” you say and think for a moment.

You have an idea when you spot the wolf sleeping mask peeking out of Nicholas’ toiletries baggie.

“How about this:” you start. “you take a bath and wear the mask while I take a shower? That way we both get warmed up.” 

“You’re so determined to make me return to that bath, aren’t you?” Nicholas shakes his head but agrees. “Alright, I know my place by now, Mrs Wang.” he finishes by throwing off his shirt, then trudges to the bathroom, swiping the mask in passing. 

You wait for a minute, hearing the water running and the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. 

“Okay, you can come in now.” Nicholas calls out a moment later. 

You creak the door open and close it behind you, eyes sweeping over the scene to make sure he was wearing the mask. Nicholas was sitting in the bath obediently, his broad back to you but you could see the mask was over his eyes. 

Satisfied, your hands got busy removing your dress and underwear quickly, leaving them to hang and dry. You padded across the bathroom and hopped in the shower, starting the water.

Neither of you says anything, a less awkward silence than you thought hanging between you but you barely notice because you rush yourself to finish as quickly as possible. You stop the water and open the cabin door, stepping out so you can reach a towel off the shelf. 

You glance in Nicholas’ direction in paranoia and freeze when you notice the mask is sitting on the ledge of the bath. In the process, you drop the towel, which in turn makes a moisturiser fall on the floor with a thud and the noise makes Nicholas turn around.

You lock eyes, his widening in panic.

“Ah!” you both scream when you realise what just happened, Nicholas throwing himself to face forward and you scrambling to throw the towel around yourself. 

“What are you doing!” you huff, incredibly flustered as you clutch the towel to your body. 

“What are you doing!” he demands, just as freaked out.         

“Why aren’t you wearing the mask?” you ask, picking up the fallen moisturiser. Damn your self-care diligence.

“I was washing my hair, I had to take it off.” he explains, sitting rigidly with his back to you. 

“Oh,” you get it now. “fine. Nevermind.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn.” he says, clearly a bit embarrassed. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” you shrug, forgetting he can’t see you. 

“Nice tattoo, by the way.” you hear the smirk in his voice and you close your eyes. How did he manage to see that of all things in a split second? 

“You better forget what you saw, or else.” you warn him. 

“I’ll try but no guarantees.” he replies. That was good enough for now. 

“Okay. I’m going now.” you open the door. “I hope you prune up like a raisin.” you say over your shoulder and shut the door.  

You wanted to shrivel up too; become but a speck of dust, not because of embarrassment necessarily, but more like because you didn’t like what you were thinking about. There was a fraction of a second when Nicholas’ eyes widened, that you felt like you wanted him to keep looking. 

You shudder at your own deprivation, blaming your busy schedule for not going out and hooking up with more people. Now you were a mess at the slightest incident. 

You just hoped at least Nicholas would forget…

~

*apartment 520 cuz it sounds like ‘i love you’ in chinese and i couldn’t miss an op. also ‘ma cherie’ = my dear/darling and ‘mon ange’ = my angel literally in french

ALMOST FORGOT TO ADD THIS!!!! for all your meme needs <3

A/N: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 I gotta say, i felt just a little unhinged writing some of this, Nicho's too much y'all, i'm not normal about this man. i hope this chapter gave you whiplash cuz same <3

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

momobani masterlist

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟGrandparents → Lee Felix x reader ˚₊· ꒰🧸꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊Your grandparents' vacation home really is beautiful…

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊best friend¡Felix x fem¡reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊fear, horror, angst (maybe-)

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊trigger, the subjects addressed are somewhat difficult - blood, mention of death, torture (the chapter does not keep its focus exactly on the friendship between the reader and Felix), a terrifying parallel universe, fictitious address mention!

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊1,4k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊English is not my first language! Risks of spelling errors! I will be grateful for feedback from readers 💙 I explored a different universe and theme in this chapter, focusing on a more "scary" subject, so to speak. I hope you like it and have a good reading 💙🌊

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 has definitely always been my specialty. Just the sound of cutlery touching when I prepare the meal or the sound of butter melting in the pan brings me a feeling of being at home.

My grandparents always loved my food so, whenever I can, I prepare something light and healthy for them.

"Grandma, what do you think if I make Ratatouille for lunch? I saw a really easy recipe and it has all the ingredients in there." I smile at the lady sitting at the counter across from me as we eat our tofu omelette.

"I think it would be a good idea. I think your grandfather would like it, he needs to innovate in his taste." we laughed at the comment.

"True! I think these weeks that I've been here have been the greatest luck for you." I say playfully. Since I was a little girl, my grandmother has always been a great cook, always preparing my favorite dishes with great care and love. Now as time goes by, this task has become tiresome for her and I am more than happy and grateful to repay her for all those years of care, if only for a few weeks.

After we finish eating breakfast, I clean up the entire kitchen and go upstairs to study for my entrance exam.

Particularly these vacations came in handy, although I don't stop my study routine, I can still do everything calmly and without pressure or the weight of many responsibilities.

���

After a long day of studying, I lay peacefully on my bed while listening to flower by Jisso. Drumming my fingers to the beat of the music, I startle when I suddenly hear loud backing outside my room.

Startled, I remove my phone and quickly get up towards the door, still a little dizzy from the sudden rise. Hesitantly turning the doorknob, afraid something has happened to my grandparents, I open the door to find my grandfather standing with his back to me, staring at something at the ceiling.

Looking up, I follow his gaze to the attic door. I sigh relieved but still confused by the event.

"Grandpa, what are you doing? It's already 20:00 at night, you can't be wandering around! Do you know how scared I was?" I face him with my hands resting on my hips. He turns to me with a lost look and a slight smile.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry. I was looking for your grandma, I couldn't find her anywhere."

"Do you want help looking for her?"

"no need, dear. She must be in the garden, I haven't looked there yet. Sleep tight." He walks away still with a lost face, leaving me even more confused behind.

"Could it be that it expired?... I hope not." I go into my room, closing the door and finishing my occupations.

—

"Are you kidding? I freaked out on that part. I think you should see a psychologist."

"or a psychiatrist…" Felix speaks softly but loud enough for me to hear. Every day I video chat with my best friend Félix. He has always helped and motivated me, even more so when I was tired from studying.

"But seriously, I have to stop freaking out at 3:00AM because of the series. I think I'm going to end up waking my grandparents up at some point."

"or getting rid of dark circles. Dude, you live studying! You were supposed to be dead tired at dawn, not freaking out because his favorite fictional character took off his shirt." he rolls his eyes scolding me.

"And it's my fault that he's so handsome? I think you're blind, little boy."

"Shhh! Shut up. Go rest, seriously. I have to leave to run some errands at work, so bye." he blows me a kiss hanging up the call before I can even say goodbye. I close the notebook sighing in exhaustion. "Maybe he really is right", I think.

I leave my room in search of some water, but I stop as soon as I notice the attic door I saw earlier ajar. I narrow my eyes, finding the situation odd. Getting closer, I pull the small cord present in the small door, thus going down the access stairs.

Entering the room slowly, I look for anything that can light the room, thus finding a lamp. With the environment already lit, I look around assessing the state of the place.

"look… I thought it would be worse." I think aloud, recording every detail around me. Usually in macabre movies everything is so dusty and smelly, but everything was incredibly clean and organized.

I sit in the armchair that was right under the long lamp. Straight ahead was a small coffee table, with just a photo album on top of it. I smile thinking that I would find teenage photos of my grandparents or childhood photos of my mother.

As soon as I take it in my hands, I slide my fingers through the crimson colored cover that had a fuzzy thickness. As soon as I open it, I read a handwritten dedication on the first page and smile as soon as I finish reading.

❝For all the moments we had together, I can't leave them engraved only in my heart, that's why I dedicated this book to her.

— Joseph M.❞

"how cute." I say but as soon as I turn the page my words fall apart and I feel my throat slowly closing up. "What?… What the fuck is this?” I widen my eyes as I look at the disturbing photos. I see my grandmother tied up with her head bleeding while she is lying apparently unconscious on the floor. In shock, I feel tears running down my eyes. My breath hitches in my throat as I feel my vision blurring. The book falls from my hands and with it, something also falls next to it.

Hesitantly, I slowly look at it and see some sort of cartouche. As soon as I take it in my hands, I let out a desperate scream, throwing it away.

Nails.

Ten in total. Real human nails…

Full of dried blood and arranged according to finger order.

Washing myself off the floor, I run as quickly as possible to my room. Locking the door, I grab my cell phone with my hands still shaking and breathing unevenly.

"hello? Yes, yes, I need you to come to 36 Morrow Road as soon as possible. I-I saw something strange, please... come quickly." I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself down, to no avail. I lift my head as soon as an idea comes to mind. My mom.

I open my notebook waiting for the call to load.

"Mom! Mom, help me."

"hey, hey, honey! What there was? Why are you crying? You're all red."

"Mommy, I-I... I-I don't know what to do."

"calm! Take a breath and tell me what happened." She says in a calm tone, being understanding. I would appreciate it if it were another situation, but I'm too desperate to take it easy.

I hear a noise outside my window, which overlooks the backyard by the lake. Again I see my grandfather standing, this time facing the peaceful lake, only instead of confusion, I feel despair and fear… a lot of fear.

"Mom, Grandpa's been acting weird II... I found some weird pictures in the attic. And there was blood... a lot of blood." without my control, more tears stream down my face and I can swear I'm close to having a breakdown.

"my love... what do you mean your grandfather?"

"Yes, my grandfather… he's standing in the yard, staring and… why are you looking at me like that?"

"daughter… I don't know how to say it, but… her grandfather died three years ago. After my mother disappeared he… killed himself in the lake in front of our old house."

"… Excuse me?"

A/N_ I know Halloween is over but I couldn't help but post something more related to the theme. I hope you enjoyed it and feedback is very welcome. 🤍

⊹₊˚ʚ❛original by:: @hyunjinners . Like × reblog!¡❜ɞ

[frogs-in3-hills]

Day 2 of the @domaystic prompt challenge: "A stash of…"

Hunter x Hunter | Gen | SFW | 1,362 words

Relationship: Killua & Gon

POV Gon Freecss

Summary: "…Chocolate. Killua has procured a very extensive snack collection."

Gon isn’t sure he’ll ever completely understand just how, exactly, Killua had apparently once managed to spend a full ten million dollars on only a year or two’s worth of snacks.

Even without the influence of Aunt Mito’s watchful eyes, Gon’s diet has remained fairly healthy during the course of their adventure. And Leorio could really only take, like, twenty percent responsibility for that. The only times he ever really indulged was when Killua was trying a particularly interesting new snack—which, to be fair, was pretty often—but the point still remains that he literally can’t wrap his head around how it’s even possible to spend that much money so quickly.

Killua once sat him down and tried to explain the logistics of it, recreating the specific budget plan and everything in his tight, messy scrawl. Something about inflation, scarcity bias, monopolies, and commodity investments. As soon as numbers started getting involved, though, Gon feared the whole thing might make his brain explode. It made him feel pretty bad, honestly. He was genuinely curious, and Killua was trying really hard to be patient and explain it all, dumbing his words down progressively further until his words sounded like some kind of jumble between caveman-speak and yet-undefined-technical jargon.

Well, it’s probably best that Gon sticks to more targeted problem-solving, anyways. The Greed Island stuff had made a lot more sense to him because they had such a specific goal in mind. He’s happy to let Killua take the reigns with the bigger-picture economic stuff; it’s just another cool product of his training, and Gon doesn’t see the point in trying to outclass his expertise like that.

Gon learns best through example, anyway. And in this case, he hopes he never gets an example to learn from.

~~~

They’re staying at a quaint little inn for the moment, one with a cute modern exterior and a surprisingly roomy two-bed. It’s erected right next to a candy shop, which is pretty exciting, too. Gon and Killua had a wonderful time pressing their faces against the glass display cases, admiring the eclectic assemblage of all sorts of treats from around the world. Gon had elected to purchase a pack of vanilla bean candies and one of those cool lollipops with a scorpion inside, but strangely enough, Killua hadn’t wanted anything. Maybe he was feeling naseous after Gon had spent a solid ten minutes trying to convince him to try a lick of his lollipop, employing the tried-and-true sales pitch of waving it around a mere two inches away from his face.

That was a few hours ago, now.

Gon wipes some sweat from his brow as he steps into their inn room without knocking, having just grown bored of chasing butterflies down the street (he’s never seen this species before!) He can see Killua slouched on the table next to the radio, possibly asleep. But Gon knows better than to expect that he’ll continue sleeping for long now that there’s another person in the room. He doesn’t take it personally, really, since he knows Killua has to be cautious like that. It’s just the way he is.

He’s a little hungry, so he heads into the kitchenette. It’s a tiny thing, furnished with only a minifridge and a hot plate on the counter, plugged into a slightly dangerous-looking exposed outlet. They should still have some leftovers stuffed into a styrofoam take-out container somewhere in there, some kind of noodle dish with tofu and bean sprouts. Gon isn’t sure what it’s called, but they had something similar back at home, and he remembers that it was always delicious cold.

The fridge hums loudly, almost like a sigh. Gon begins to open the door, and four things happen in very quick succession.

The little light inside flickers on with an annoyed, electric grumble, just as his hand overpowers the suction-like force holding the door closed.

Three boxes of mint chocolate cookies tumble out with three sequential thwacks, each one landing neatly atop the other on the floor.

Gon can hear and feel something falling against the inside of the door, so he rushes to slip his hand through the side and extracts two more boxes.

Now reasonably sure nothing horrible will happen, he opens the fridge door the rest of the way.

The inside is packed with a smorgasbord of all sorts of treats: at least ten more boxes of mint chocolate cookies, a section of packaged mooncakes and mochis stuffed so tightly together it kind of looks like a giant fungal growth, barricaded by an interlocked gummy bear fencing. There’s a layer of half-melted blackcurrant popsicles behatting a small tower of tupperwares jam-packed with assorted chocolate truffles. It’s all kind of formed a little ecosystem of precarious balance—almost grotesque, in a way, seeing the sheer amount of stuff that’s been tetrised into the tiny space, all organized like a little cityscape.

Gon blinks at the patchwork of commercial color, blinks again.

Closes it.

“Killua?” He calls.

“Mm?��� Killua replies, having evidently just woken up. His voice is still sleepy and thick in a way it normally isn’t, and it’s kind of cute, in that kittycat way, like an I know exactly what I did wrong but you can’t be mad at me because I’m so cute kinda cute.

“What’s with the fridge?”

A silence follows before Killua says, “You think it’s too much…?”

It’s a dangerous tone. Not in the way that means Killua’s mad, but more in the way that means Killua’s embarrassed. Gon knows this means that there’s a correct and an incorrect answer, and he better not get it wrong.

“No,” he says slowly.

“M’kay,” Killua says. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

And, okay, it’s not a lie—sure, it seems a little excessive, but Gon knows Killua is just kind of like that sometimes, and he doesn’t actually mind. It’s not like they’re really struggling for money, and if they run out, there’s nothing stopping them from just returning to the Heavens Arena (Leorio had definitely been right to become a Hunter so he could make more money).

Killua also sometimes gets weirdly defensive about it, in that way where Gon knows it’s really about something else that he doesn’t want to talk about. So, since it’s not a problem, and since Killua doesn’t want to talk about it, Gon is fine with just letting it happen without too much pushback.

He heads to the small pantry instead, mildly hopeful that he won’t find it in similar shape.

Gon opens the pantry door.

…

Gon closes the pantry door.

Well, wait a minute—he opens it back up against his better judgment—there’s something interesting in here. Standing on the tips of his toes, he reaches into the depths of the pantry, sinking down to the elbow through bags of pickle-flavored chips, fizzy rock candy, and an assortment of Popin’Cookin’s, and dislodges a package from the back. The dim kitchen light reveals its contents: seaweed snacks, apparently. The package is illustrated with a few pieces of nori, glazed with almond slices and sesame seeds. Curious, Gon tears it open and pops one into his mouth.

“Hey, Killua?” he calls again, his mouth still half-full.

“What’s up?”

Gon pads into the little living room where Killua is still sitting, head cradled in his arms with that sleepy-alert look (he really is like a cat sometimes, isn’t he?).

“Let’s get some more of this seaweed stuff later! It’s really good.”

He blinks, then straightens up a little. “…Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Gon confirms. “It’ll be fun! You always shop for this kind of stuff on your own.”

The expression that Killua makes next is, in Gon’s opinion, pretty rewarding. Really, being friends with Killua on its own is very rewarding, but Gon especially loves being able to notice how he’s really feeling in moments like this: gratitude, in a quiet sort of way. His face doesn’t change, but he definitely stares a little too long, taking his time to wrap his head around it.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Let’s go tomorrow.”

Even if he can be a little disarming at times, Gon seriously loves being friends with Killua.

[sleepy-razor]

Dear brother of mine(Xiao + sibling figure!reader) PT. 2

Request!!: Hey, Lake! The big brother Xiao hc is really cute my heart melts- Continuation perhaps, a scenario of how will he react if his lil' sibling decides to help traveler find their twin, and maybe...what happened in the Chasm Archon Quest? Maybe a little ouch in the heart-

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, a touch of angst, and just to be safe, 2.7 Archon quest spoilers toward the end!!

Notes: Hi!! Thank you so much for the kind words, I'm really happy you enjoyed the first part! Hopefully this second part lives up to expectations as well!

GN!Half-Adeptus!Reader

When you tell Xiao that you wish to help the traveler, he’s not entirely surprised.

Xiao isn’t quite sure how to feel when you approach him asking to speak with him in private. The act in and of itself is nothing new, you’re continuously pestering him (though he uses the term “pestering” lightly, you don’t truly bother him) to just hang out instead of training.

However, how nervous you seem while talking to him, the averted gaze and the way you fidget nervously with your hands as if to quell some sort of anxiety tells him that you’re possibly going to tell him you’re doing something dangerous, so he’s already on high alert.

“I was thinking of joining the traveler for a bit, to help find their sibling,” you say, and Xiao releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

The relief Xiao feels is immense. He thought something was seriously wrong.

He tells you that if you wish to do so, he can’t do anything to stop you, but he does express that he wishes for you to return every once in a while, definitely only to train though, he says quickly, turning away to hide the embarrassed flush that crosses his face.

You see the way the tips of his ears turn red anyway, but for his sake, you don’t say a thing.

You definitely keep to your word, occasionally returning to the Wangshu Inn to catch Xiao up to speed on your travels over a plate of almond tofu and to get a bit of training in before you return to the traveler’s side and explore the other nations.

You worry, though, about how Xiao is doing without you.

He’s not exactly the most expressive guy, and he hardly ever asks for help when he needs it.

Which makes it your responsibility to help your big brother out of a tight spot, before he ends up getting himself hurt.

Of course, there are times when it feels like you’re too late.

You should have known.

You should have known that Xiao would have pulled a stunt like this, the self-sacrificing fool.

You stare, distraught and yet somehow also numb, at the empty space where Xiao should have been standing while everyone tries to get their bearings.

You had seen how Xiao was weakening, the resigned and determined look in his eye as his mask fell away, contemplating his next move.

A whispered apology reached your ears. You and Yelan had both moved, trying to stop him, but before you could even touch him, you’d been whisked off the platform and deposited onto the grass outside the mines.

“[N-Name],” Yanfei starts, but you barely even hear her.

You feel cold and numb as you continue to stare blankly, only barely registering when someone put a hand on your shoulder. The traveler.

Your vision blurs with tears.

How could he do this to you? Xiao was one of the only things that you had left that resembled a family, since your parents had died long ago.

How could he leave you all alone like this?

With that thought in mind, you completely break, sobbing into the Traveler's shoulder as they pull you into a comforting hug. They know how it feels to lose a sibling, after all.

As you're crying, you feel a touch on your head that's so achingly gentle, you could only link it to the caring hands of the Geo Archon, but when you look up, he's nowhere to be seen.

Instead, you can feel the energy of the earth around you humming with the ancient power of the late Rex Lapis, igniting a small spark of hope within your chest.

Please, you pray. Please, save him.

No sooner than the prayer entered your mind, the Geo energy solidifies, depositing a weary figure on the grass.

Xiao looks bewildered and weary, brow furrowed in confusion as he realizes that he's outside of the Chasm and surrounded by those he evacuated.

Eyes widening, he looks around almost frantically, and when his eyes land on your tear stained face, you can see the guilt that writes itself all over his expression.

"You idiot!" you scold, throwing yourself at him and trapping him in a hug as your tears start to fall again. "What were you thinking?!"

Xiao is too stunned to answer, frozen solid at the surprise embrace.

"I thought I lost you!" you sob against his shoulder. "I thought I was going to be alone again, you jerk! Why would you do that?!"

Slowly, as Xiao listens to your words, hesitantly returning the embrace you locked him in, one hand finding the back of your head as he sighed.

"I'm sorry, [Name]," he whispers, so quiet that you're sure you're the only one who heard it.

By now, everyone else has left, giving the two of you some space.

"I didn't want to lose you the same way I lost them."

"How do you think I felt then?" you demand, lifting your head to glare at him.

He truly looks guilty, even avoiding meeting your eyes.

"You're some of the only family I have left. Please don't leave me behind too," you plead. “I don’t think I could take it...”

“I felt the same,” Xiao says quietly, finally meeting your gaze. You falter as you catch sight of the pain in his expression, clear as day instead of buried deep beneath a mask. “I did not want you to meet your end the way Bosacius and the others did. If that meant I would not survive, I was willing to pay that price.”

Things are different for a while after that.

It feels as if the distance between you has returned for a little while, this time of your own doing rather than Xiao’s.

He doesn’t question it. In fact, he understands it.

He had hurt you with his self-sacrificial act. Even the Traveler was upset with him and hadn’t returned to the Inn to visit for a while.

However, you stuck around, returning to your routine of training and spending the nights together up on the balcony Xiao frequented as you watched the stars.

It’s quiet, far quieter than Xiao is accustomed to when you’re around, but you’re here, and that’s what matters to Xiao.

You’re his younger sibling, and just being able to share space with you and know you’re alright is enough for him.

[qingxinis]

jealousy - xiao, childe x gn reader

anon asked: hi! ill like to request something among the lines of xiao and childe (separately) being jealous, with a gn!reader, please! :) thank you! <3

omg my first request!! tysm for requesting, i really appreciate it!! i hope you like it, anon <3 

gn reader x xiao, gn reader x childe sfw warnings: none

word count: around 400 and 500 words, respectively. 

xiao

anguish. 

seeing you with another person, oblivious to their blatant flirting, gave him anguish. it was just a normal night at wangshu inn, you had brought xiao some almond tofu and was about to leave, until some merchant from fontaine stopped you to start some small talk. you, of course, dropped everything you were doing and started talking. how could you just carelessly stop to talk with some random merchant? what if he was dangerous? thoughts concerning your safety went through xiao’s head like a hurricane.

no, he wasn’t jealous, he was just concerned about this stranger — or at least that’s what he would like to think. 

one minute passed. then five. and then twenty. xiao had enough at this point, as only his gaze wasn’t enough to intimidate the pesky merchant, and you looked fairly tired of talking. the adeptus made his way to the both of you, your eyes immediately shifting towards him with curiosity. he wasn’t one to show many emotions and he knew it, but this was too much. the merchant looked at xiao with annoyance as he tried to grab your attention once more.

“y/n” xiao said, and you looked at him with confusion in your eyes. “i see you’re tired. do you wish for me to accompany you through your way home?” 

you looked very confused. xiao never offered to do something like that before, and he knew you were wondering. “i wouldn’t like for you to run into any monsters, that is” he added quickly, making you look at him with even more confusion. yes, he knew you could fend for yourself, and at first he didn’t mind your presence much, but you had grown to become something he cherished. so, it was only normal for him to offer to take you home, right?

maybe this will be enough to scare him off, xiao thought. and yet, he was wrong. 

“actually, i was thinking the same-” the merchant started to say, but suddenly stopped at the feeling of xiao’s gaze on him. maybe it had finally worked, staring at him with unmatched anger. “oh no! i just remembered i have something really important to do! see you, y/n!” and, with that, the merchant was quickly gone. 

xiao could only sigh in relief. 

childe

childe was jealous, and that was obvious to everyone around him. 

both of you were strolling around liyue harbor, enjoying one of his rare off duty days. it was a sunny day, the breeze was nice and the streets were bustling with people looking around shops and enjoying their day. everything was perfect, the way your hands intertwined, the way you laughed at his flirtatious jokes, the way your hair flowed with the wind. 

so why had your ex suddenly appeared?

it was funny, really. your ex didn’t even recognize childe, neither as your current boyfriend or one of the fatui harbingers. if he did notice you both were having a date, he was surely happy to intervene. it made childe’s eye twitch slightly out of annoyance, but his facade was perfect. well, almost.

it was his body language that made it clear for you. the way he held your hand slightly more tight, as if you were going to leave him at any moment. the way his stare made its way between you and your ex, switching between you both constantly. it was clear that he was annoyed, but you couldn’t do much about it, as your ex just wouldn’t stop talking. he would ask you about your family, about your current occupation, about the present. you were quite uncomfortable, but what could you do? just turn away and go?

on childe’s mind, that’s exactly what you should do, but he knew you were way too polite to do something like that. so, he waited. for a while, that is. as the conversation seemed to have no end and you seemed quite uncomfortable, childe decided it was time to intervene. 

“hey comrade, i’m sorry to interrupt but me and y/n were about to go eat something together, i believe they must be quite hungry, right?” he looked at you, and you instantly nodded, noticing his quick plan to get rid of your ex. 

“oh? i’m sorry, who are you? we are having a conversation here, if you can’t tell” you ex replied, and something sparked in childe’s eyes. 

it wasn’t anger, but rather amusement. 

“my name is childe, but i also go by tartaglia. nice to meet you!” as childe said his name, he noticed a sudden fear in your ex’s eyes. he retracted back, looking at the other like an alien. 

“t-tartaglia, you say?” your ex said, and childe nodded enthusiastically. this is fun, he thought. your ex turned to you, looking frightened by your current boyfriend. “ah, i’m sorry, y/n, but i suddenly remembered this thing i have to do… farewell!” he said, quickly making his way away from you both with trembling legs. 

after your ex left, you looked to childe and suddenly burst out laughing. he followed, laughing heartily as well. and you two continued your date, thankfully without any interruptions this time.

[melting-tofu]

since request is still open, i would like to request xiao's reaction when he finds out that his s/o has an incurable sickness. im really craving for some angst rn so if you want to go as far as writing the part where his s/o died, i wouldn't mind at all. thank you in advance and have a nice day!! <3

i had to swallow all the sadness while writing this so now you must suffer the same too.

you have no ideas how many times I have rewritten this.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, angst with soft Xiao :(, s/o's death, I didn't count words but this may be pretty long.

------

Since you fell ill, your everyday journey was limited to your bedroom, and Xiao was always the one to take care the most for you. Every morning, he would be there to greet you with some Qingxin flowers, sometimes crystalflies, when you woke up. And then he would spend most of his day around the room to take care of your needs. Nighttime was when you would ask him to lay down with you, which he wouldn't deny, but he would stay awake for the rest of the night to make sure you were safe, looking forward to the day you would fully recover and everything would be alright again.

Despite having no interest in human cooking, Xiao learned to cook your favorite dishes, and soon, for some reasons, they eventually became his favorites, too. His cooking was surprisingly amazing that whenever you brought up the topic he would get so flushed. And he also held the honor when he got to feed you 👉👈

He still put his hopes above everything, that one day your sickness would be over, so he could take you to wherever you want. He couldn't keep his heart when you kept talking about the places you wanted visit so he just happened to go there himself and return with a souvenir.

"Adeptus Xiao, are you alright?"

Xiao snapped, eyes still dull as he looked at Verr once more. This couldn't be true, could it? Your illness could never be cured, he heard it right from her. You knew that too, even in the first place, but you only told her, either you didn't want him to know or you just weren't ready to tell him yet, in the end he would lose you anyway... It tugged at his heart stringー no, it slashed millions of cuts to his heart. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that, he didn't want to believe that. It should not be true and if mere mortals could not help you then he would find a way himself.

He sat silently, not wanting to continue this conversation, his heart felt tight against his chest as he clenched his fists. He could feel his eyes started glistening but quickly wiped them before standing up, "Mhm, I... I understand."

No, Xiao wanted to say more than that, he could have yelledー But knowing you hiding it from him like this, he understood you wanted him to stay calm and enjoy his time with you, he shouldn't have been too emotional and must have kept his heart for longer. So he did, and quickly headed to the kitchen to make you breakfast then toward your room, maybe he was a bit late and you were already awake because he took so long to talk.

---

Your state had gotten worse from time to time, you didn't even bother to count how many days had it been. That night, like always, you asked Xiao to sleep with you but he would still stay awake anyway. His heart ached when your voice was barely audible, and how your weak grips tried to hold him as tight as you could. "Xiao, I'm.. a bit tired.. Maybe I will doze off soon." your breathy voice called out to him as your body started cooling. You had been talking less and less to him recently, so hearing you managed to say something like that soothed Xiao a little. He held you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead before whispering "It's okay. Rest, I will be here when you wake up."

.

The sun was up for quite a while and you should have been up soon, Xiao shifted to get off to get preparedー but those thoughts shook off his mind when things felt a lot quieter than usual. He didn't feel your soft breaths anymore, you didn't even move the slightest, your body was cold, no matter how much he tried- he couldn't feel your pulse. He panicked, his hand shakingly reached up to check everywhere else he could, no signs of life. His whole body tensed up and before he knew it, tears were dripping down his cheeks already. He leaned in to kiss you, but you still remained the same, you just laid there, lifelessly in his arms.

He waited for a bit more, and a little longer, longer until he didn't want to care about the time anymore. "Ah- (Name), hey.. it's time to get up n-now... I.. y-yesterday you said you wanted me to- to make you almond tofu today, right? I- I can- No, no no no, don't scare me like this. I'm here, w-wake up-" The atmosphere started chilling and became unsettling. Pressing your body to his, he cried out, his glistening amber eyes stared as the tears stained your shoulder. Just yesterday, hours ago, you smiled at him and he showered you in affections. How could you leave him like this. There were things you wanted to do with him for the day too, and yet you were not waking up, just the adeptus alone and shattered his heart to pieces.

---

Why did... why does life have to be that much cruel to him? Letting him be on his own was enough, then why did it just give him a temporal peacefulness then snatch it away so easily, that's a thousand times more cruel.

Immortality, it's unfair, having to witness the ones he cared about passing away hurts more than anyone can imagine. Xiao closed himself from people to avoid that, yet he still chose to love you and let himself fall again. The Vigilant Yaksha strongly believes one day, you will be back, he can get to see you again, so he keeps hoping..

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Twenty One

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous character's death, crying, grieving

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Stepping off the bus you give a huge yawn. It wasn’t a long bus ride from Osamu’s apartment to the shrine but it dragged on from the little sleep you got last night. Kita wasn’t keen on having you walk from the apartment in your current state, and Aran almost called a taxi for you. But you couldn’t let them pay for it when you could’ve walked. You all settled on you taking the bus, albeit Kita provided the fare.

You’re pretty sure he feels a bit bad that you weren’t going to be there when Osamu woke up, but he was still completely passed out when you left. You couldn’t wait any longer unless you wanted to be late, so you left the apartment that morning with a promise from Kita to call with any updates.

You’re extremely grateful that Kita is willing to be forthcoming, especially after you weren’t 100% helpful during Kita’s initial search for Osamu. But as you walk towards the shrine entrance, you power off your phone and slip it into your bag.

Today is about Hajime, he deserves all of your attention.

Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki wait for you at the entrance, all dressed in nice shirts and ties. You give them a small smile, working hard to bring it to your face. They give you smiles that are equally lackluster, but you don’t blame them at all.

“Y/N-chan~” Oikawa called in a high voice. HIs smile is the biggest, and the fakest. He pulls you into a hug as soon as you are in arms reach. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

You nod against his chest. “Yes, thank you. And thank you for bringing me clothes.”

“What’s this about last night?” Makki asks in a pale imitation of his usual teasing voice. He looks pale in the bright light of day and his hand is held tight in Mattsun’s.

You shake your head gently. “I’ll tell you later.”

“He’ll hold you to that.” Mattsun warns. HIs face is blank - at first glance his stoicism is taken for apathy, but you know the real truth.

It’s silent for a beat before Oikawa speaks up. “Well, shall we?”

You all nod and together walk into the park. It’s quiet and you don’t pass many others on your way. No words are exchanged on your walk but you all walk close together.

As you round the corner, you can see Hajime’s grave. Your breathing picks up and you reach for Oikawa’s hand. It’s always a surreal moment, seeing the exact location where Hajime is meant to be. His tombstone doesn’t stand out for the others, save for today - it shines in the sun a bit more and fresh flowers are in a vase by the base of the grave.

“The Iwaizumis’ were here earlier.” Oikawa mentions in a breathy whisper. “They didn’t want to impose on our visit.”

Mattsun clears his throat. “We should visit them soon.”

Makki makes a noise that sounds like an affirmative but it’s hard to tell from tears he’s audibly trying to hold back.

Soon, too soon, you’re standing in front of Hajime’s grave. You read the epitaph on the stone, as you’ve done every time.

Here lies Iwaizumi Hajime - a son, a friend, a brother. His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

This has been the sixth time you’ve read this inscription - the first, second and third time you were unable to get through the first few words without breaking down and crying. The fourth time you were able to read it all before you cried, and the last time you were able to be a pillar of support to Oikawa who broke down then.

And now, as you read through the words, you feel the familiar tears well in your eyes and a blanket of melancholy settle over your shoulders. But this time, you stop and take in the meaning of those words.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

You glance to the side at your friends, those who also loved Hajime. Makki is opening weeping, his face buried in his hands. Mattsun has his arms around his boyfriend, his face hard and eyes glossy. Oikawa has brought his hands together and bowed his head. His eyes are closed but the little crease in between his eyebrows give away his distress.

You look back to the grave, to this grand sculpted piece of stone, this final resting place for your best friend, and close your eyes.

I miss you Hajime. You’re not particularly religious, nor do you have much belief in deities or gods that watch over you. But since Hajime’s passing, you’ve been able to fully understand the appeal of an afterlife - if tHajime is out there, somewhere, you can still talk to him. You can tell him how much you miss him and know that he’s hearing you. There’s some comfort and peace that can be found with the ritual.

But there’s also danger. There’s the potential of developing disastrous habits, or forging an alternate reality where your loved one isn’t dead. And you can lose yourself in that reality.

That’s why you sent those messages to Hajime’s old phone - you needed that last line of communication, albeit one-way communication. You needed to trick yourself into believing that he was really alive, to numb yourself from the harsh truth that he wasn’t.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

Is his spirit living on, truthfully? Were you really honoring Hajime’s life and legacy with those messages you sent? Or were you leading yourself down a path that you had no intention of straying from?

When Osamu texted you back from Hajime’s number, you were devastated. But in a way, Osamu had been your saving grace - you had no choice but to break your habit once he received the new phone number. There was no way you could continue to burden him with your messages and please and desperation. It was the clean break you needed, the hand to lead you out of the dark. And not only did he help break the habit, he became another person you could depend on.

You think back on the coffees and lunches you had shared and messages sent late in the night. You became close, unnaturally quick. Did you both just click with each other? Or did you rely on him more than you should? Was your dependence on him detrimental to your budding relationship? Did you rely on him to be a pillar of strength, because he, quite figuratively, took Hajime’s place in your life?

Your eyes open quickly. The fact that the answer is not crystal clear worries you. How long have you been using your friends, albeit subconsciously?

Suddenly Osamu’s anger towards you makes complete sense. And is justified. You need to apologize to him. To him and Hajime. You knew (or hoped at least) that you’d have the chance to apologize to Osamu. But now, this is your chance to apologize to Hajime.

You clasp your hands together and close your eyes. (And you work really hard to ignore how foolish you feel.)

Hajime, you think. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you how I felt about you and not being upfront about my feelings. You feel tears behind your closed eyes. I wanted to be able to love you like you deserved but I was scared. And I’m so sorry.

You can picture Hajime’s smile, the way his eyes would close when he would laugh, how he would curl into himself when he couldn’t stop laughing.

A few tears eek past your closed eyes.

You can also imagine Osamu, his eyes crinkling at the corners, in time with the upturn of his lips. You can feel the gentle, soothing patterns he traced on your back while you cried.

You weren’t able to love Hajime the way you wish you could have. Maybe you can give it your all with Osamu.

But why does that idea make your stomach twist and fill you with shame? Why does the idea make you feel like a villain?

You open your eyes again and look at Hajime’s grave.

Is it because to give it your all with Osamu would mean letting go of Hajime?

“Are you ready to leave?”

Mattsun’s voice brings you out of your heavy thoughts. You look at him, seeing an openly weeping Makki held tightly in his arms. You nod and turn to your other side.

Oikawa is crouched down, with his head bowed forward and one hand resting over Hajime’s name.

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Oikawa.” He doesn’t give any indication that he heard you, but after a few seconds he rises. He wipes his face and turns to leave.

“Let’s go.”

Mattsun guides Makki out, letting him continue to cry as they walk. You bring an arm around Oikawa’s waist and pull him in tight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes back.

Hearts heavy, you all exit the shrine and make your way to the park. It’s not far from the shrine but no words are exchanged throughout your walk. It remains silent as you enter the park, find a good spot in the shade and set up the picnic.

It’s a glorious day - blue skies without a cloud in sight. A gentle breeze blows through every now and then, and the temperature is perfect.

As everyone settles onto the blanket Oikawa opens his bag and pulls out the food. You take yours from him and open the container. A sad smile crosses your lips. “Agedashi tofu?”

Oikawa nods. “Seemed fitting.”

“Is it really picnic food?” Mattsun asks. Makki is quiet, his eyes and nose red.

“Anything is picnic food at a picnic!” Oikawa retorts.

Mattsun raises his eyebrows and puts a piece in his mouth. His face quickly morphs to surprise as he chews. “I take back what I said.”

Oikawa harrumphs and turns to his meal. You share a small smile with Makki before tucking in.

The food really is quite good. The tofu is crispy on the outside but flavorful on the inside. The four of you sit in silence as you eat. You don’t feel the need to make conversation, but the silence you bask in is melancholic.

Suddenly Oikawa slams down his container. His utensils rattle against the lid and he harrumphs again. The noise brings you out of your stupor, and you glance at Mattsun (sharing a curious look) before speaking up. “Are you okay Tooru?”

“No!” Oikawa cries. He sniffs and turns his head away, glaring at the blanket. You sigh inwardly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Oikawa would crack. He’s been surprisingly strong today but you know he harbors a lot of hurt and you were waiting for the moment you could come in and support him.

“I’m annoyed!” His brief explanation makes you furrow your eyebrows and you wait for him to continue. “I knew today would be awful and I thought that putting together this picnic would help us cope, but all I can think about is how much Iwa-chan would laugh at me right now!

“And I miss him so much and I want to embrace that feeling but all I hear is ‘Shittykawa, stop being a diva’ and ‘You idiot, this is too much.” Oikawa sniffles back the snot in his nose and shakes his head. “Iwa-chan was such a brute.”

You, Mattsun and Makki share surprised looks at Oikawa’s rant. But they soon give way to loud laughter that bubbles from your chests.

Because Oikawa is totally right. Anytime you all (mainly Oikawa) tried to plan a party for Hajime - whether it be a birthday party or celebrating some achievement, Hajime would hate it. You weren’t sure if he hated having the spotlight on him or his instinct to hate whatever Oikawa would put together.

“Do you remember when we tried to throw a surprise birthday party for him?” You ask through your laughter.

Makki giggles. “Yeah, and he punched Oikawa in the face!”

“Or,” Mattsun pauses to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “Or when the security guard chased Y/N and Iwa off the school grounds for some game?”

You nod, feeling another fit of giggles take over. “Yeah! Oikawa tried to organize a scavenger hunt!”

Makki snorts loudly, which pushes you and Mattsun over the edge again. You look at Oikawa, who is looking put-out but is clearly trying to hold back his laughter. Makki snorts again, making Mattsun wheeze, and Oikawa breaks.

The four of you are completely losing it in the park, laughing loud and uninhibited. Between breaths you all share more stories - most of Hajime trying his best to reign in you and Oikawa while Makki and Mattsun didn’t do anything to help him.

You’re not sure if it’s you or someone else, but soon tears mix in with your laughter. You look around to see your friends laughing and crying as well.

Watching Maki & Mattsun tease Oikawa for his ugly crying face, you can just picture Hajime sitting with you all. And instead of the thought making you shrivel up inside, warmth blossoms in your chest. You can see Hajime beating Maki in another arm wrestling match, or laughing at something sarcastic Mattsun said. If you really thought about it you can see Hajime yelling at something that Oikawa did (whether he deserved to be yelled at or not.)

You can imagine Hajime sitting next to you now in the sun. If you were to meet his gaze you know that he’d give you a fond look. You can picture it perfectly. It’s one that he’d wear when his friends would achieve the impossible, or break through a challenge that had been keeping them down.

It was a look of pride.

He always wanted what was best for you, and for his friends - his selfless actions could fill books that could fill libraries. His praise for you all made you keep pushing forward. It’s one of his most admirable traits, and one reason why you fell in love with him.

You know, deep down, that he would be okay with you moving on. This whole time it was you that was scared of letting go.

But here in this park, on the anniversary of Hajime’s passing, you finally feel okay with moving on. And if you could tell him that, he’d wipe the tears from your eyes and give you a soft smile. A smile that says how proud he is of you, one that says much he loves you, and one that you know means that he’ll always be with you.

In a way, Oikawa’s specially-planned lunch worked exactly how it was meant to. Because even though exactly six months ago your world completely fell apart, you can sit here now and feel some peace. You know that you have to pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. You know that some days the pain will be unbearable. But with your friends here, you have the strength to put yourself together again. With that thought, you look up at the sky and smile.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: This entire scene was maybe the second or third scene I drafted out when I wrote this story (mainly because I had been writing so much angst and I needed some relief for these guys.) Like honestly, I don't think they have all sat together and talked about Iwaizumi in this story at all like this - laughing and reminiscing together. It makes my heart soar - of course they're not magically fixed or things are going to be getting better in the end but there's a clear difference between their dynamic from the start of the story to now. And that makes me very happy. 💖💖💖 I hope you are all enjoying the story, thank you so much for reading!

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef @badkarma-a @reina-de-tay @meianshugoswife

[gaiuswrites]

yoga!din thoughts:

they've been fucking around for awhile, but only in the studio. never beyond the studio doors, not even in the cramped, single-person bathroom across the hall. their relationship is purely physical—probably couldn't even consider it fwb. he likes her, is irritated by her, likes the smoothness of her pussy. she likes him, is fascinated by him, likes the rigidness of his cock. it doesn't go much further than that.

that all changes when they run into each other at the grocery store.

I-

christ on a cracker here we go. I’m ready to die now. Cause of death, yoga!Din oh NO-

This... I have no idea what any of this is, but Jess and I have been having a good ol’ time with it. I also want to give a shout out to Rachel for always being a rock in these unprecedented times and taking interest in this main man and I’ll probably be sending you similar messages for your masseuse au to torture you and im not even a little sorry about it

(warnings: SMUT, spanking, language, so pls minors, politely, go home thanks)

She always does this—why does she always do this? 

She drifts down the aisles with the practiced effort of a trapeze artist, juggling the load of groceries bundled to her chest.

Get a cart. Just get a damn cart—a basket, something.

But no. She doesn’t. It happens every time: she goes in for one item—maybe two—and two turns to three and three turns to four, and suddenly they’ve multiplied like rabbits and she’s got half the store in her arms.

Trail mix from the bulk bins, almond milk, coffee grounds, bananas, spirulina powder, those delicious chickpea chips that were buy-one-get-one—how was she supposed to just walk past that—spinach, tofu, zucchini noodles, salmon fillets—

And she nearly drops it all when she spots him. Dark hair, dark eyes.

She stalls out, puttering to a halt. He’s reaching into the frozen meats section, rifling through the various cold cuts. She’d recognize the yawn of his back anywhere, the slope of that broad plane�� his arms too, how his tricep cuts across the tawny gold. The shapes they can make. 

The positions they can bend her into.

Maybe it’s best if she just turns around now, sneaks away, pretends like none of this ever happened—she could do that. That would be easy—the easier of the two options, to be sure, because the alternative sounds terrifying and messy, and maybe if she just backs up nice and slow—

Din wheels his cart forwards and glances up. Shit.

He’s not sure what he’s even looking at at first. His feet slow, and there’s a groove creased into his forehead, brow ticking down. She’s here— right here in front of him. How can she be here? How can she be anywhere but where he knows her best—knows her at all? Inside that room, woven limbs and sweaty skin on glossed wood floors. How can she be here—outside that sacred space—in his fucking grocery store?

They stare at each other. She breaks first.

“Hi,” she mumbles out, beguiling.

“Hey,” Din responds, gruffer than he means.

“Hi,” she says again, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

A grin tugs at him too, but he tampers it; they let a silent, pregnant beat pass between them and then—

“What are you doing he-“ “Have you been here befo-“

They’re speaking over each other—nervous and out of step—and they share a huffed chuckle. They’ve never been this before. They’ve always been physical and brash and bold and they’ve never needed words—they’ve shown each other exactly what they meant and what they wanted through touch—and now, when they need them most, they’re at a loss.

“Just getting some supplies,” she answers him with a shrug, causing one of her many parcels to slip from the precarious tower she’s constructed, and Din, ever agile, catches it before it strays too far. 

“My hero,” she quips dryly, gratefully, as he carefully places the package of tofu on top of the heap. He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Is that stuff any good?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she smirks.

He’s closer to her now, less than an arm’s length away, and Din’s eyes flit to the fading mark at the swallow of her neck, peeking up from the collar of her shirt— the mark he left there just days prior, when she ground down on him, supple frame speared by his cock, rocking frantic and needy up and down on him, whimpering hushed noises into the empty studio. His hand splayed the width of her back, cradling her to him as she rode Din, stretching around him fucking perfectly. 

“Fuck, this pussy takes me so well,” he seethed through a clenched jaw, her breasts rutting against his chest with each bounce of her hips. He growled. “You’re so - shit - you’re tight-” 

Din gave her ass a sharp smack before pawing at it, grabbing a fistful of the flesh there and she moaned— she fucking moaned, depraved and oaky, and knocked her head back, lips falling open and eyes rolling shut. Din groaned at the sight—this woman, this fucking thorn in his goddamn side—sheathed around him, writhing as he fucked up into her—and she had the audacity to moan like that. 

“You like that?” He slapped her ass again and she whimpered, clawing at him, tangling her fingers into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He had to resist the urge to shudder—snapping his mouth tight around a whine.

Normally, she’d meet him with some sort of resistance. She was cheeky and smarmy and they both knew it—it’s a game they played—perfectly balanced, perfectly opposed. But she couldn’t help it—she was too far gone, too fucked out, and the words unspooled from her lips like yarn. 

“Yes-yes—fuck, Din- please.”

That earned her another swift crack, the pillowed flesh prickling red from the sting of his palm, and it tore a guttural sound out of her, wrecking through her pretty throat. “God, you’re a filthy little thing. So f-fucking filthy for me-“ 

He ripped her orgasm out of her, his fingers snaked between their bodies, furiously working at her clit in tight, wet circles. It felt like a punch to his gut, as her pussy clamped down around him and gushed. 

When he finally came, spilling into her slicked cunt, he had to bite down on her neck just to keep from fucking shouting. 

He tears his gaze off the bruise, returning to her face—and it’s hardly any better. The corner of her mouth has turned up, just barely, the whisper of it wry and aching. That look—that infuriating, debilitating glint in her eyes—has settled and it makes his cock twitch against his jeans.

“Having a barbecue?” she asks, nodding to his cart, the beer and buns and patties there.

He clears his throat, “Something like that.”

Fenn insisted on it—’I’m not wasting the perfect weather. We’re all doing something, whether you like it or not’— He could only fight her on it for so long. Lesser men have tried and failed, and he knew it best to quit while he was ahead.

“Sounds fun. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Din has to fight the roll of his eyes.

The spell had been broken. They’d spirited themselves away—lying to each other and themselves—as if their tryst existed above consequence, above ramification—like they weren’t even real people. Just ideas, ideas they’d fuck and then suddenly and conveniently vanish—out of sight, out of mind; would disappear as the sun that set on them, blurring lines into the dark.

But he sees her here, clumsy willow arms and cotton tee and cut-off shorts and those beautiful fucking legs he loves wrapped around him so much, and she’s glowing despite the ugly fluorescent sheen cast up from the linoleum tile and—

It’s different. She’s different. Fuller. He knows her now—like this. And he can’t unknow her.

His throat bobs. Maybe he should ask her if she’s free. If she’s got plans. Maybe—

“I’ll see you on Wednesday then,” she says, something unreadable in her voice.

Din swallows. He nods. “Wednesday.”

Oh fuck, he likes her.

She tips her head to him, grinning something small, and shuffles off towards the register.

He watches her go, eyes following as she rounds a corner and slips away. She can feel them on her, his eyes, boring into her backside—all the way to her car, through the town, up to her driveway, into her kitchen where she cupboards her groceries—she feels him, the heavy heat of him, melting against her spine.

@djarinsbeskar @frannyzooey @pedros-mustache

[bumbleklee]

Could you make a fic based on the song Moondust By Jaymes Young? With Xiao or Zhongli? It’s fine if you decline, I enjoyed your Lonestar fic a lot! Also, thank you in advance if you do this! ^^

after this, i decided im a monster. this is so sad, like so so sad. i don't know if this is what you had in mind but since the song is basically about learning how to live/love without someone, i went down a death route. i also went w xiao. pls enjoy (and grab a tissue)

before reading: ANGST!!! you literally die and are a ghost the entire time. mentions of injury and blood as well as self-harm and suicidal thoughts. word count is around 2.1k (under cut for length)

I'm building this house, on the moon Like a lost, astronaut Lookin' at you, like a star From a place, the world forgot And there's nothing, that I can do Except bury my love for you

Death was quick.

You know instantly that you’re dead the second you open your eyes. You can still remember the feeling of the Fatui pyro agent slicing his knife across your throat and if you think about it enough, your neck tingles. You remember falling to your knees, being laughed at, and then you saw nothing.

Well, you saw blackness.

And then when you came to, you were standing in the middle of Liyue Harbor. The world seemed duller but it was real. No one paid any mind to you, so you assumed you were a ghost.

It’s nice to still be able to watch the sun rise high above your hometown.

There’s no panic, no rush to find out what’s going on, you don’t need to. Your hands travel to your throat and the horrific wound is gone. In fact, all of the scrapes and bruises and imperfections on your body were gone. Death brings solace, you humor.

Your peaceful moment was interrupted by two frantic voices. They catch the attention of everyone in the area, including you, and you spin around quickly.

Xiao.

“Break the contract, please, Zhongli-” His voice is frazzled, filled with a sadness the living can’t understand. “I can’t live without them.”

You looked down at your left hand, heart shattering at the absence of the jade ring. Right. You were going to marry Xiao later that year. Not anymore.

A hundred thousand memories of sweet kisses and long nights flooded into your mind. They caused you to hold your breath, too many emotions crashing through your tired form. You felt like crying but couldn’t (ghosts didn’t have tears, you guessed).

You’re standing right in front of the love of your life and he can’t see you.

Maybe it’s a good thing he can’t see you because Xiao already looked wrecked. His eyes were puffy and red and his hair was disheveled. Unhealed scratches wound his arms like ribbon. You had been with Xiao for years, through the good and the bad, and never once had you ever seen him in this state.

He’s pleading still and Zhongli has an indescribable expression on his face. “I can’t,” His voice is barely a whisper, “You know I can’t.”

Xiao wails, falling to his knees. Zhongli feels his pain, you know he does, yet he won’t put him out of misery. You watch as Zhongli bends down and lifts the adeptus into his arms, swiftly walking away from the crowd. You follow ensuite and Xiao’s eyes are hazy, staring through you over Zhongli’s shoulder.

“I’m right here.”

But he doesn’t hear you.

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

You begin to follow Xiao around. Not that he goes anywhere, too heartbroken to move, but you keep watch of him like he once did for you.

He resorts to staying in Zhongli’s apartment. The consultant isn’t around most of the day and Xiao rarely leaves his bed. His tears stain the satin pillowcase and he curls upon himself. Sometimes you stand in the doorway and stare, other times you muster up enough courage to go and sit on the unoccupied side of the bed.

The first time you touch Xiao again is at night. He’s crying and without thinking, you wrap your body around his. His chest is pressed against yours and you press your lips to his shoulder.

It’s not warm anymore. In fact, it feels like nothing.

But still, you hold Xiao until he’s asleep. You don’t let go all night, opting to watch your beloved finally get some rest. You wonder if this is how it’s going to be for the rest of eternity? Would you follow Xiao around aimlessly for centuries more?

Or maybe you’re just stuck here. You recall a saying from an elder in Liyue years ago, “Spirits with unfinished business can’t move.”

You decided then that you were going to help him move on, help Xiao bury his love for you.

Nothing can breath, in the space Colder than, the darkest sea I have dreams about the days, driving through your sunset breeze But the first thing, that I will do Is bury my love for you

There’s no book about being a ghost. You have to figure it out on your own and you’ve never been more grateful no one can see you go straight through the wall for the third time that hour. Over time, you create your own handbook in your mind, jotting down anything you discover as your time as a dead person entails.

Within the first week, you understand that no one can see you, hear you, or feel you. And while you can vaguely touch objects and people, the sensation is different than when you were alive. Every human trait was thrown out the window - you don’t need to sleep, breathe or eat and drink anything.

You attend your funeral exactly a week after your body was discovered and someone propped your sword against your casket. You try to grasp it, to pick it up, but you only manage to push it over with a gust of nonexistent wind. It clambers to the floor, the funeral parlor growing silent, and you take this as your cue to leave.

You wondered if Xiao, or anyone of that matter, could sense you at least. Even if Xiao couldn’t see you, just him knowing you were there would ascend you to the afterlife (right?).

You also find out you can’t leave Liyue. There’s an invisible border keeping you trapped in the country and, frankly, you don’t mind. Xiao won’t leave Liyue so you don’t need to leave Liyue. But sometimes you get anxious that one day Xiao will leave Liyue and never return. And if you haven’t accomplished your goal yet, would you truly be stuck as a monster among men?

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

On particularly good days, Xiao talks to you. Zhongli was gone early one morning and Xiao pulled himself out of bed and to the living room, opting to open the blinds and see sunlight for the first time in weeks.

You sit on the coffee table with your legs criss-crossed as Xiao mumbles desolate words.

“I keep just wishing I would wake up dead. I miss you so much.”

You frown. “I’m here, I’m right here.”

But he can’t hear you. “You aren’t here to make me laugh at your stupid jokes anymore. And I just...I should have been there! I should have-”

His voice cracks and you move off the coffee table, wrapping your arms around his quivering body. You try to press yourself against him, squeeze your arms so tight that he’ll feel you, but you can’t. You can’t kiss his chapped lips and move your bodies so he’s curled into the crook of your neck.

Sometimes, you watch Xiao hurt himself. He digs his nails into his arms or thighs until he draws blood, only to push it all away and scream into the ground. You want to snap him out of him, tell him to stop doing that to himself, but you can only sit and stare.

You were nothing to Liyue - a common human who added nothing of importance to society. Yes, your death was sad for many people but the world kept turning. Xiao, on the other hand, was so special. He was the Vigilant Yaksha - the people of Liyue needed him forever.

“I miss you. I love you. I miss you.”

I'm a cast away, and men reap what they sow And I say what I know, to be true Yeah I'm living far away, on the face of the moon I've buried my love to give the world to you

Xiao goes out sometimes. It’s either to patrol the city or on a walk with Zhongli. It’s not much but it's an improvement. Like always, you follow him.

He’s started to have nightmares, waking up in a rush. He used to comfort you when you had nightmares and it pains you that you can’t return the favor. You try, by God, you try. You run your hands down his back comfortingly but Xiao only cries harder.

When Xiao sees Ganyu for the first time in months and she gives him homemade almond tofu, he smiles. It’s small and quick but you see it.

Growing up, you had thought that the living mourned the dead. When your grandmother died, you felt broken for a while, but that pain was minimal compared to this. Having to live endless days as an invisible soul while the living grieved was unbearable.

When no one is around, Xiao breaks down. He hurts himself, insults himself and wishes for you endlessly. When Xiao tries to jump off the roof of the apartment complex in the middle of the night and survives with only an injured arm, you realize he’s pushing his body. He’s trying to kill himself.

So, you scream.

Every waking hour of the day you scream.

“I’m right here, Xiao! I love you and I’m right here! I’m sorry for being careless and getting killed but you aren’t ready to join me yet!”

You know he doesn’t hear you, he can’t hear you, and yet Xiao slowly stops hurting himself.

The brightness of the sun, will give me just enough To bury my love, in the Moondust I long to hear your voice, but still I make the choice To bury my love, in the moondust

It takes a year for Xiao to finally begin to cope with your death and you know your journey will be coming to end soon.

He still talks to you except now it’s hopeful and filled with acceptance. On the anniversary of your death, he travels to the Dragon-Queller early in the morning. He sits down in the spot he used to take you to and rubs the grass softly, as if motioning for you to sit down next to him.

You do.

“I’m leaving Liyue next week.”

A million feelings run through your veins. You want to throw up, scream, cry. Is a week enough time to get Xiao to move on from you? Had he already moved on? There were too many questions you couldn’t fucking ask.

You can’t bear to listen to the rest. Your feet travel on their own, taking you far away from Xiao and back into the heart of Liyue Harbor. You didn’t know where you were until you heard a voice call out for you.

“Hey, you!”

You were imagining voices now. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Y/N!”

A short, young woman came into your view and you finally looked up. You had walked right into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. Hu Tao was staring at you, not through you.

“I knew you were still here.”

Hu Tao could see you.

It didn’t make sense but you didn’t have time to make it make sense. Without thinking, you cried out to Hu Tao and begged her to help you save Xiao, save yourself.

“I want to go with him,” You say.

“But you can’t.”

“Then he’s going to forget about me.”

Hu Tao chuckled softly, “You think Xiao would forget about you?”

You don’t answer. Maybe it was you that didn’t want to forget about Xiao. Either way, it hurts. “He’s going to fall in love with someone new and-”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

It was. You wanted Xiao to be happy without you, to learn to love again. You wanted him to bury his love for you so you could both be free.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Hu Tao says, “Xiao will find you again one day.”

She clasps her hands together and reaches them out to you. You look down and see a moving image of Xiao. He’s still talking softly, this time with a small smile on his lips. You close your eyes suddenly, not wanting to see anymore. You step outside of the funeral parlor and whisper “I love you” into the wind.

The sun is shining high in the sky when Teyvat begins to disappear from your vision.

Maybe in another life you and Xiao will spend forever together. You’ll have a grand wedding, start a family, and grow old together like you should have. But for now, you’ll see him from the moon.

[marblesphere]

Xiao x reader

!Angst Warning!

Slowly and gently, I can see how he tucks the loose lock of her hair to her ear. I can also see how she blushes at his gentle gesture. A small barely noticeable smile on his lips. I clench my fist tightly, I feel the Qingxin flower's stem crushed in my palm. I want to walk away from the irritating scene, but my feet are rooted on the ground. As if some force prevented me too.

It took all my willpower to tear my sight from them. "Xiao…" I whispered to the wind, hoping he would notice. But alas, the harsh reality proved otherwise.

10 years. It took me ten years to befriend the so-called vigilant yaksha. The only remaining yaksha. The yaksha which is said to be the coldest amongst all of the adepti in Liyue.

I met Xiao when I was 6 years old. I was lost in a forest near Liyue harbor. I remember Granny Ping said to call Adeptus Xiao if I ever had any trouble. So with a snotty nose, I wail out his name. A gust of gentle breeze blows before a tall big brother (at that time) in teal arrived. He frowns at me. I still remember my hand, which was full of snot and tears, grabbed his long sleeves and cried to it, effectively soiling the pristine cloth.

He almost flung me instinctively, but I know how hard I grabbed it and I am still a Liyue citizen. Xiao kneeled and with an awkward pat on my head, he lifted me up easily. Without a word, he jumps high. I can still vividly remember the breeze blowing my face. I stopped crying immediately and realized how high we were.

Tears were replaced with small giggles. From the position we were, I found my parents shouting my name. "Papa and mama." I leaned my body, wriggling out of his arms.

"Don't move." That was the first time I heard his voice. It's so beautiful that I shut up immediately. Xiao maneuvered and landed near to my worried parents.

"Mama, Papa!" I rushed to them right after Xiao put me down. My mother quickly hugs me tight, afraid if I were to disappear again.

"Where were you?! Do you know how worried we were?!" Papa scolded.

"But Papa, Adeptus Xiao took me home." I wriggled out from my mother's embrace and looked behind me, only to find empty space.

"Adeptus Xiao was with you?" Papa asked bewildered.

"Yep. Granny Ping told me to call for Adeptus Xiao if I had trouble. I did and he came. He jumped so high and I could see you." I excitedly told them my tale.

Not long after, I finally found out not many people can meet the elusive Adeptus. But I was determined to meet him again. To thank him and befriend him.

So, I ask the most knowledgeable person in this world, Granny Ping. Granny Ping told me that Qingxin is his flower. I want to pick one, but it only blooms in high peaks which is impossible for me. So, the next best thing is buying from a florist. Granny Ping also told me where to give the flower. Wangshu inn. Thus, I made it my mission to go there everyday to give him a Qingxin flower.

In Wangshu inn. As expected, I couldn't meet Xiao, instead I met the owner. Verr Goldet. After hearing my reasoning to visit the elusive Adeptus. She told me to put the flower on the balcony on the highest floor. I will stay there for hours without meeting him. And I do this everyday for almost a month.

Maybe Verr was taking pity on me. She told me to help her deliver a plate of Almond tofu to Xiao. And thus, our second meeting. I was so excited that I almost fell flat smashing the tofu to the floor if not for his fast reflex.

Xiao frowns when he sees me. "Adeptus Xiao, thank you." I smiled as I gave him the flower.

"Don't come close to me." He frowned.

"But, I want to." I shook my head. "Granny Ping told me you have protected us. I want to thank you." I pouted.

"...I am just doing my job according to the contract. I don't need any thanks." He said.

"Even so, I want to thank you." I said persistently.

I think that was the time he gave up explaining to a small naive kid. From that day on, I meet him everyday with a Qingxin flower and a plate of almond tofu. Of course, I still have to call him or else he won't show up even with almond tofu.

After a year, he softened up a bit. At least, I don't need to wait for him on the balcony. He will always be there by the time I reach the balcony with a flower and a plate of almond tofu. Another year and I can even manage to slip a Qingxin flower to his hair. And the second year of our meeting is truly the start of my happiness. Xiao gave me a small trinket made from sage technique to ward off evil. Every year following that on my birthday the small trinket will increase, a crystalfly, a leaf butterfly, you name it. And last year, he gave me an amulet. The amulet I have never taken it off since I wore it on my birthday.

In exchange I too, so persistently celebrate his birthday, since he won't tell me when is his birthday, I just mark the date we met is his birthday, not until a few years later he finally grumpily told me his real birthday.

I started learning martial arts and cooking courtesy from Xiao for the former and Smiley Yan for the latter.

10 years of hardwork, 9 years of nurturing feelings, all of them have gone to the drain. With just one appearance of this girl. No, she is not a traveller with a fairy. She is just someone from Qingce village. Xiao met her when he was patrolling around the area. Just in a month she undone all my hardwork. Now they are a step away from being lovers.

I made my way back home. For the first time in 10 years, I didn't go to Wangshu inn, no I didn't go to meet him. A fresh Qingxin I have picked and a plate of almond tofu are laid forgotten on the table. Fresh tears finally flowed down from my eyes. It hurts. It hurts so much looking at them. It hurts so much seeing him smile at them. The smile that I thought only I could see.

'It's not yours anymore.' A sickly sweet voice whispered

'He is finally happy. He finally rid himself of you. You are just a worthless girl. You don't deserve him.'

'The love of his life is not you. It will never be you.' The sickly sweet voice cackled gleefully.

That night I succumbed to the negative emotion of mine.

The next day, I resolved to investigate that girl. I have realized I am not good enough for him. That's why I want to make sure she is good enough for him.

'You just want to make yourself better if you find a flaw in her. What a liar.' The voice back in my mind echoed.

I shake myself, trying to get rid of those voices. First, I will obviously start from Liyue. I heard her parents are doing business in Liyue and she sometimes tags along. And today, she didn't come. Perfect. I have double checked in her parents' shop.

But every answer I get from them lowers my spirit. In the end, I can only summarize her in one word. Perfect. She is so perfect. All of the people I ask from will sing a praise to her. It's almost impossible for a perfect human like her to exist. But she is, and now she could even open the vigilant yaksha's heart in the span of a month.

To clear my head and the annoying voices in my head, I make my way to the secret place I have found a few years back. Inside the forest where I first met Xiao, there is a small patch of Qingxin flower field deep inside the forest. Qingxin flower, which is said to only bloom in the highest peak, somehow can grow in that patch and only that patch. The area around it is also safe from hillicurls or slime. Xiao said he never detected any malicious intent around the small field. Thus, that area became our secret spot.

Either Celestia likes to mess with me or I am just that unlucky, I met the perfect girl. She is surrounded by hillicurls. I frowned, I materialized my weapon and took a step.

'Why don't you just leave her alone. She is powerless. If the Hillicurls get her killed, then no one will be with your precious Xiao again. You can have him all by yourself.' The sickly sweet voice is tempting me with that.

I stop dead in my tracks. Indeed, If she is dead, then Xiao will have no one but me. It will be just the two of us again. I take a step back and turn myself.

'Good. This is what you should do.' The voice cooed.

"Kyaaa!!"

I grit my teeth and spring back to act. I rush to the group of hillicurls, which fortunately just 3 of them. I swipe their feet using my polearm. "Run!" I barked at her. She flinches at my harsh glare and voice, but finally starts running.

I quickly engaged with 3 hillicurls. I am not a pro, but Xiao taught me enough to defend myself. I panted after I finished the last hillicurls. I am just glad I didn't get any deep injury. "Kikiki!" A small fireball flew past me.

I cursed my luck. A pyro abyss mage is waving his staff and 3 small monster heads are firing flamethrowers at me. I barely dodge it. "Kikiki!" Then another cyro abyss mage comes out.

I gulp. This place might be my grave after all.

*3rd POV*

Yue Mei is just picking herbs by herself. She giggles at the thought of the famous vigilant yaksha literally swept by her feet in their first meeting. She fell in love at the first sight. She glanced at a charm on her neck. She is really grateful for this charm. She made a wish a year ago in an adepti abode. And that adeptus gave her this charm. She is told to wear this everyday, everywhere she goes. This charm will help her.

True to his word, after she had worn this charm. Everyone has become nicer. They gave her a lot of free stuff and some even started to court her. She was shy at first, the attention she got was really overwhelming. But, she already has an ideal man. A man who is strong and handsome. And her ideal man turned out to be Adeptus Xiao.

She blushes again remembering him. Their last meeting ends up with Adeptus Xiao tucked her hair back to her ear. This intimate gesture is really making her happy. Soon, she will confess to him soon. And they will become a couple.

But, her daydream is short lived. A group of hillicurls suddenly appear and surround her. Fear gripped her entire being. "A...ade...adept…" She is too afraid to even call the yaksha. One of the hillucurls raises its club high. "Don….'t… Kyaaaa!!!!" She let out a blood curdling scream as she closed her eyes.

But the pain didn't come. When she opened her eyes she saw the hillicurls on the ground and a girl wielding a polearm glared at her with such hostility. "Run!" She barked at her. Yue Mei flinches at her harsh tone. But her feet finally gained their freedom as she ran away to the direction of Wangshu inn.

Her feet are tired and trembling. She collapses on her knees. "Adeptus Xiao." She whimpered. A familiar breeze whirled, and Xiao came. Looking at the trembling form, Xiao frowns, "What happened?" He kneeled in front of her.

"Hi...Hillicurls…" She managed to stutter.

He hisses, knowing those monsters targeted someone under his protection. "Where are they?"

"There…" She pointed to a direction. "A girl...wielding...polearm...is...holding them...off…" She said shakily. The entire time she clutched her charm.

"A girl… wielding polearm…" His eyes widened. A girl wielding a polearm. The only one that comes to his mind is "[Your Name]..." He whispered. Somehow his mind becomes clear, as if the fog in his mind has been blown away. Xiao quickly summons his own spear.

"Don't!!!" Yue Mei quickly grabbed his hand. "Don't...leave...me alone." Tears streamed down her eyes, making her look so pitiful. This usually invokes some kind of protective instinct from the opposite gender. But, unfortunately for her. She is dealing with this the one and only Conqueror of Demons. Now the spell has been broken, he is not as nice as previous him except to a certain mortal.

"Release me!" He growled as he glared at her, more specifically at her charm.

She flinches at his harsh tone and glare. She stares at him wide eyed. He never used this kind of tone with her, not even on their first meeting. Her hands loosen up. And Xiao quickly disappears from her, leaving her all alone.

Xiao rushes to the direction that the girl pointed to. His mind is racing with what ifs. He finally arrived, but [Your Name] is not on sight. There are only 3 dead bodies of Hillicurls. He calms down a bit. She can handle herself just fine if it's only 3 Hillicurls. But, when he observed more carefully once again, his blood ran cold. Not far from him, a puddle of red blood is spotted, along with two dead abyss mages.

His heart thumped loudly, looking at the trail of blood moving to a certain direction. To the direction he is so familiar. His mind starts racing with a really unpleasant outcome.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" The wind brought a familiar tune.

"...Xiao...where are you…?" He heard it. Her voice. But her voice is so weak, like she will disappear forever. Xiao has never rushed this fast. Right now in his mind, there's only she has to be alright.

*1st Pov*

"Hah...haah…" I panted as I stabbed my polearm to the ground, using it to stabilize my body. The puddle of blood on the ground beneath me is proof it's too late for me. 'If I were to die… At least let me choose the place.' With that in mind, I dragged my feet to our secret spot no, my grave. The small patch of Qingxin flowers.

I drop my body in the middle of the patch, hissing from the pain. But the smell of Qingxin is calming me down. It feels like Xiao is with me.

"~~~♪ ~~~ ♪" with my shaky voice, I started humming a tune. This song is passed down from generation to generation in our house. Apparently this song is some kind of a prayer back in the ancient times. My eyes are blurry now being soaked by blood. "...Xiao...where are you…?" I couldn't see anymore. I reach out my hand, hoping he will grab it. Then a miracle happened. I can see Xiao grabs my hand and pulls me up. I can feel the pain has started to dull and then disappeared, I feel so light, so free. I can see him clearly. Hand in hand the two of us wander to wherever we desire.

"Thank you for coming." I smiled.

[1eaf-me-alone]

This is my first time doing an ask, so sorry. But I saw your post about matching and I thought it sounds fun, don't feel any pressure btw. I am a female with she/her pronouns, my mbti is ISTJ-A 6W5, I am straight, I am pretty short tbh, I am 5'1. My zodiac sign is Libra but I am not really like one. My hobbies are cosplaying and playing video games, the games I like are either fantasy or science fiction like Genshin, skyrim and Overwatch. As a person I am introverted and can easily get tired when I am in crowded places, I wouldn't say I am shy. Planning and seeing things from a realistic and logical is how I make my decisions. I don't like to show emotion, so if someone asks me if I am ok when I feel low I might just burst out crying not saying a word of what happened or why I am sad. So my ideal partner is someone who won't pressure me with my emotions, someone who is loyal and just makes me feel safe.

(Romantic match up, if it should have one platonic that is up to you🙂)

And don't feel pressure about writing this

your match is ……. Xiao and Kokomi

(Xiao as romantic and Kokomi for platonic)

Xiao:

the two of you can be short together - you won’t be getting any short jokes from him.

sometimes the two of you could just sit there together in silence. Sharing the moment together.

As both of you don’t like loud/ crowded places you usually meet in small quiet places- or above the wangshu inn. On the roof. 

Xiao admires the way you plan everything from a logical point of view.

Both of you don’t like showing emotion. But maybe the two of you could learn to open up together?

He won’t pressure you with emotions, in fact he definitely is very good with personal space 

Whenever Xiao cares for someone he cares for someone. He’ll make sure you are safe at all costs. Whatever it takes. If anyone lays a finger on you he won’t take it lightly 

If Xiao does ever ask if you are ok- and you do end up bursting into tears he’ll just be there patting your back and listening if you when anything to say. 

Both of you are there for eachother

Crouching on the roof of wangshu in as you gaze into the sky and talk 

Whenever you come visit him you may bring him some almond tofu. He really likes that you do that. 

whenever Xiao kisses you, he means it. The first time he does so, he looks you in the eyes, gently cups your face, and kisses you.

You will feel safe with Xiao he will make sure you won’t get hurt.

Xiao looked at you. ”are you ok?” unstoppable tears started rolling down your eyes, you hugged your chest tight, and pulled your knees in wanting to disappear just how Xiao could do whenever he didn’t want to be there . You couldn’t bear to see his expression right now. Xiao hugged you tightly, never wanting to let you go.

— — — — —

Kokomi:

whenever the both of you need alone time, or somewhere to relax Kokomi will lead you to her private cave. the two of you could sit there talking, reading or doing anything you want together.

sometimes she’ll lead you to waterfalls, as the two of you hear the sound of splashing water 

Both of you look and plan things out logically and whenever Kokomi needs help (and sometimes she doesn’t admit so) she’ll come to you- as you also view things in a very logical perspective 

You were surprised at how planned out Kokomi really is. She seems to have back up plans for her back up plans 

You try and tell her not to overwork. You can see when she’s overwhelmed from all the people around her and you try comfort her. 

Whenever you burst into tears, Kokomi will stick by you. She won’t even ask why you are upset. She’ll just be there to make sure you are ok. 

the two of you could go on walks together

Whenever you cosplay Kokomi might help you- or you could cosplay together (as friends) 

Both of you enjoy reading and solitude. 

You worry about how much Kokomi overworks. 

The two of you take care of eachother. Making sure the both of you are healthy, and not too tired. 

Planning and seeing things from a realistic and logical point of view is how you both make my decisions.

Both of you sat under the waterfall, you gasped in astonishment the foot of the boulders sprinkling up bubbles of spray, as it created a breathtaking rainbow mist. The droplets sparkled beautifully in the dying light and shimmered like stars in the sky. The sound of the thrumming waterfall blocked out all your worries and thoughts, as you looked at Kokomi and smiled. — — — — —

I hope you enjoyed reading this anon :)

well that’s all with the fourteenth ask if you want to send an ask click here for more details on the event.

[sweetestlamb]

All I Want for Christmas is You- Part 2

Summary: Mun-yeong realizes somethings about herself and gets an unforgettable Christmas. . 

Author's note: Thanks for all the love for part one, part two made my heart ache a lot while writing and there’s only one more part to come! Once you finish this part it will be pretty obvious what the next part will be LOL but thanks for joining me on this Christmas journey y’all. HAPPY READING. 

Trigger warning: mentions of child neglect, domestic abuse. Don’t read if those are triggering to you, do what’s best for you. 

It's her fault, she knows that entirely, she was the one to get her hopes up. When she came home and saw the suitcases on the ground, her heart beat skyrocketed thundering through her brittle ribcage babum babum it thumped as she dropped her backpack on the ground and ventured further into the lavish space. Fingers lightly caressed the matte black case as her eyes darted around looking for any signs of humanity.

Glasses.

On the pristine clear center table sat her father's reading glasses. The ones he would perch on the edge of his nose while he would look over his blueprints, nudging them up with a single digit when they slid down the bridge of his nose.

"Father?" The foreign word left her tongue, a word she hadn't uttered for months. She spun around desperately longing to catch even a glimpse of the elusive figure.

There was a distant sound of a door opening and then her father stood there in the hallway. Her lungs almost collapsed as she struggled to complete a simple bodily function she'd mastered since birth.

"Mun-yeong."

That was all he said. And it was the sweetest sound, suddenly flashbacks washed over her of running to meet her father by the door when he would arrive home. He would lift her up and spin her around, her gleeful squeals bouncing off the mansion walls. He would ask her about her day and tickle her little belly before she could answer.

Once upon a time they'd been happy. Too happy. She'd spent so much of her life laughing, maybe that was why the universe was balancing it out now. Before Gang-tae crashed into her world she had no reason to smile.

Flashes of her huddled under her blankets listening to the screams of her parents in the kitchen below, her mother's manic screech as she accused her father of cheating. Her father's adamant denials and then the metal crashes, her mother always became physical, bruises would litter her father's body. Then one day her mother was just gone. Without a single goodbye suddenly she was motherless. But she still clung to the idea of having her father, his love would be the balm on her wounds.

Then he moved them to the city, busy and bustling with life and movement and her eyes widened with wonder and she thought this would be their new beginning.

Her father took countless business trips, so much so that she never saw him, would glare at the other girls at the father daughter events. Remembered shoving a group of girls who called her an orphan, the rage singing through her blood.

Sang-in was hired soon after and she was a demon, she knew it and reveled in making his life a living life. She was demanding and bratty, crying and screaming in equal terms but he was persistent, disgustingly patient. He would smile at her antics fondly and never rise to her bait. Without her permission he was the first one that came to her mind when something good happened in her life.

When she'd written her first story, a morbid thing about consuming the things you loved, it had gone missing temporarily and then popped up in the visor of his car. When she demanded to know why he took her story his only response was, "It deserved to be shown off." She'd scoffed at the sentimental response twisting away to wipe at moisture that escaped.

So all in all it was her own fault for expecting something from someone who had given up on her a long time ago. Who she should have given up on too.

So she'd stood there silently with her father, deep wrinkles marring his skin.

Waiting.

"I didn't think you'd be home, I should have called first. I just came to get some important things, I have another business trip. Switzerland."

Important things. She took in the ties and pens in his hands, carefully folded clothes and sketches. Those were the objects he'd considered important here, she was discarded and left behind but those objects they were essential.

She wanted to scream, to hurl words at him like knives, slicing him up into shreds just like his words had done to her heart.

"Okay."

She collected her bag off the floor, walking past the stranger in the room without a second glance. It wasn't until she heard the front door close that she finally allowed the emotions simmering below the surface to erupt.

The decorations had been the final straw. It was salt on her festering wound.

She didn't expect Gang-tae to show up, thought that he too would forget about her existence. But instead he had tilted her world off axis, uttering words that her ears hadn't heard for years.

Love.

She didn't know what she felt for him exactly, she needed him that much she knew. She knew her jealousy and possessiveness wasn't healthy, knew that he wasn't hers, he wasn't an object or something she could own. But she wanted to. Wanted to lock him away and keep him to herself, there would be other Ju-Ri's- pestering ants- ready to steal him away and she wanted to smash them all to pieces. But did that translate to love, was she even capable of such a fragile emotion?

She falls asleep in his arms, rocked into a fitful sleep as he strokes her head whispering sweet nothings into her starved ears. She wakes up bewildered in her plush bed, thick blanket tightly tucked around her frame. When she ventures out into the living room after brushing her teeth and brushing her tangled hair, the sight of her boyfriend with an apron around his broad chest is enough to knock away some of the ice around her heart.

"What are you doing? You didn't go home?" Her voice is sleep laden and raspy even to her ears and she watches with feminine satisfaction as a chill runs down his body.

Twisting to meet her eyes, he locks eyes with her. The warmth in his deep orbs could rival that of the sun. It's almost painful to look at.

"Good morning. I didn't want to leave you. I called my mom last night, told her I was staying with Jae-su. How are you feeling?"

Like shit. Her eyes are sore and her throat is scratchy like she swallowed a bucket of sand.

He nods as if she spoke words, reading her face like an open book.

"Here." He hands her a cup of tea. "The soup will be ready soon and the rice is finished. Can you get us some plates and chopsticks?"

She absently listens to his requests, getting what they need on autopilot before sitting at the table and watching him move comfortably in her kitchen. After a minute of stirring and tasting he deigns the soup perfect and he brings the hot pot over to the table, before going back to scoop fluffy white rice into a deep round bowl.

The aroma perfumes the space with smells of spice and warmth, and she watches as he serves the food, handing it to her first.

"I hope you enjoy the meal."

She can't remember the last time someone made food for her, the closest thing she has is room service and one time Sang-in made a grilled cheese for her, too burnt around the edges and the cheese not all the way melted but she'd seen the treat on an American drama and demanded it.

"Thank you." She replies barely a whisper feeling vulnerable before him, he's seen her at her worst so many times but for some unfathomable reason he hasn't left. Unlike Sang-in he's not getting paid so she truly doesn't understand.

The first sip of soup is delicious, salty and thick with chunks of fish, potatoes and soft tofu. She hums at the flavor eagerly going back in for more, stuffing giant spoonful's of rice into her mouth until her cheeks puff out.

His airy chuckle breaks her single minded focus and she peers up at him inquisitively.

"What?"

"You're cute." He shrugs, looking her right in the eyes as if he isn't the same boy who blushes when she holds his hands.

"Cute? I'm not cute. And why are you so brave lately?" His confession replays in her mind, her traitorous heart thumping away frantically in recollection.

This time he does pause, putting down his spoon and looking at her over the  table with a serene little smile on his achingly handsome face.

"Love makes you brave."

She chokes on air, sputtering and coughing at his boldness again.

His laugh is loud and booming this time, rattling her bones and then he dives back into his soup with a happy chuckle.

"We're leaving after we eat. Wear something warm."

"Don't tell me what to do." She fires back. But she walks off to her room to change after slurping the last bits of the soup, ignoring his amused brows and knowing smile. Annoying.

He's changed too when she comes back out and she looks at him confused.

"I had Sang-tae meet me with a change of clothes earlier."

She wonders what time he woke up to do all these errands and why he's even going through all this trouble for her, she's not worth it.

But he looks gorgeous as ever in an emerald green turtleneck and dark wash jeans, his eyes are positively gleaming as he looks at her. She's swaddled in a cashmere cream sweater that hangs over her thick plaid skirt and tights. The way his eyes graze over her form makes her warm and she escapes before he can burn her up.

As she bends to tug on her winter boots she feels his presence behind her, he tugs her backwards into his hold. She immediately stiffens at the affection, unprepared for it.

"You look pretty."

Her heart flutters at the soft words whispered directly into her ears and she scoffs, leaning back further into his embrace.

"Why are you so mushy today?"

He hums instead of replying, suddenly spinning her around and she almost falls at the rapid move. He catches her with a strong grip on her waist.

"I really want to kiss you."

Her breath hitches as she gazes up at him, taking in his hungry stare and red lips. She reaches out to latch onto his sides, tugging him closer until their faces are inches apart.

"Do what you want."

He doesn't need to be told twice and almost instantly he's devouring her, licking at the remnants of soup on her tongue. She rises on her tiptoes to fully meet his passionate embrace, his love driving out all the cold that still stubbornly remained. His hands slide into her soft tresses as he bites at her plump bottom lip, sucking the sore flesh into his hungry mouth. A moan escapes her throat and she can feel how his fingers tighten on her scalp. When they break apart, he looks dazed running his tongue across his lips as if chasing her taste. It lights a fire in her belly.

"Okay now we can go."

"What the hell is this place?" She sneers looking around in contempt at the beaming families.

"A tree farm. I come here every year to pick out a tree with my family. I wanted to pick one with you."

She turns around walking away, skin crawling from being in such a place. He must have lost his mind. But he catches her hand in a large clasp and when she looks back vehemently, she meets his puppy dog eyes and pleading bottom lip.

"Please?"

She's not going to fall for that, he's not even that cute. No, she's definitely leaving and locking her door and telling security but to let anyone up.

"What about that one?" He inquires dragging her to another tree, identical to the one before it.

"They all look the same, I don't care. You pick." She whines for the hundredth time about ready to stomp and throw a tantrum like a child they'd walked past earlier.

He shakes his head and walks away again spewing some crap about finding the perfect tree for her. And then she spots a crooked tree in the corner, far away from the other trees. It's a decent size but it leans slightly to the right and the pines aren't as full as the other trees they've seen. It looks discarded and abandoned as a family walks past it, "Definitely not this one. Who would want an ugly tree like this? They all snigger. Something like sympathy swirls in her belly and she catches Gang-tae's eyes.

"I want that one."

He nods asking no questions, "It's perfect. I'll go get someone to pack it up for us."

It's not until they have the tree wrapped and tied that she remembers that they took a cab here.

"How are we going to carry this thing home?"

Gang-tae looks up from his phone with a smile before a car horn sounds behind them.

"With help." He points behind her and when she turns around she meets the grinning face of one Lee Sang-in, waving from the front seat. He hops out and immediately picks up the tree going back to strap it to the hood of the car.

Then he opens the car door for her with a bow, "Young mistress. It's good to see you."

She rolls her eyes at the title, he hasn't called her that since she was young and wanted to pretend she was a princess.

She hears Gang-tae thank him quietly before sliding into the car right after her, their thighs pressed closely together.

"Where to now? Sang-in asks adjusting his mirror

"Hom--"

"The mall." Gang-tae interrupts and she looks at him in surprise. "It's part of your experience, trust me?"

She doesn't respond but it scares her that her heart immediately says "yes", she does trust him.

When they reach the mall he grabs her hand again, pulling her out with a quick "See you later" directed at her driver, who nods in response driving off to find parking.

"Why are we here? I don't need anything."

He looks at her mysteriously before speaking, "You're going to buy gifts for the important people in your life."

Her father's voice echoes in her head and bile collects in her throat. He must notice the shift in her mood because he pulls her close.

"Shhhh. Not them. The important people in your life. The people who you love."

"Who....who I love?"

He drags her away from his hold and looks into her eyes softly brushing her cheeks.

"Yes. The people who make you happy. Only think about that."

Nodding she finally breaks from his embrace and steps into the mall, it's busy and crowded but Gang-tae uses his body as a shield and the shopping begins. By the time they leave the sun has began it's descend, vivid yellows and pinks painting the sky.

As if summoned the car pulls up by their feet, Sang-in hopping out to open her door once again.

This time when they both get in he doesn't ask them for directions and starts the familiar route back to her place. Head too heavy with ideas she stares aimlessly out the window, too overwhelmed to converse to Gang-tae.

When they reach her apartment she is unprepared for the sight that greets her.

On the sidewalk standing in the blistering cold are Sang-tae, Seung-jae, Jae-su, and Gang-tae's mother. They all begin to wildly wave when they see the car pull up.

"What?" She barely gets out before Gang-tae is tugging her from the car. Bounding over to the small group.

His mother is the first to speak, "Interesting how you slept at Jae-su's house but here you are at Mun-yeong's apartment." Her face is hard as ice while looking at her son but it melts to the warmest smile when she sees Mun-yeong. She ignores her son's breathless excuses and his older brother's mischievous sniggers at his little brother's discomfort.

"Oh Mun-yeong don't you look pretty? You must be cold, let's head up." The woman links their elbows and begins to tug her into the building. Seung-jae skips along with them happily linking arms from the other side and introducing herself to Gang-tae's mother.

Behind her she misses Sang-in trying to leave only for her boyfriend to block him, dragging him along with the group.

"So fancy." Gang-tae's mom whispers looking around, clutching at her threadbare sweater looking self-conscious and Mun-yeong tightens her hold.

"I like your house better." She says honestly, thinking about how much love is soaked in every surface of the small home. The smile she receives is better than all the riches in the world.

It's not until she reaches her front door that she remembers the mess she left behind, turning to Gang-tae with terrified eyes she looks for help.

He smiles at her, shaking his head and waving her in.

With trembling fingers she pushes the key into the hole and opens the door.

It looks at neat as ever, not a decoration in sight but all the broken glass and tinsel is gone. It looks reborn.

Breathing out a breathe she didn't release she was holding she steps inside, there aren't enough slippers for everyone- she's never had this many people over- and Sang-in rushes off to get extras from the front desk.

"Well, let's get started." Gang-tae's mom says, opening a large box she was clutching in her hand. Inside are the prettiest ornaments she's ever seen, homemade ones and lopsided ones that look like they were created by a child's hand.

As if reading her mind the woman lifts one bringing it closer to Mun-yeong before leaning in as if sharing a secret, "Gang-tae made this for me when he was six. He was so proud to show it off. Every year we put it on the tree, it deserves to be shown off."

The motherly pride bursting from her eyes steals Mun-yeong's voice and she remembers when someone said those very same words to her. Finding his eyes in the room, the urge to hug him washes over her but too frightened by her own emotions she hugs herself tightly instead.

"It's pretty."

And then it's a whirlwind of movement, Gang-tae's mother putting everyone to work- the men are setting the tree up in a corner by the window, while Seung-jae is on decorating duty leaving her on chopping duty in the kitchen.

"I'm not very good with a knife." She admits, embarrassed by her uselessness, it's clear that Gang-tae and Sang-tae were taught to be self-sufficient, both comfortable in the kitchen.

Instead of chastising her the woman takes the knife she was holding awkwardly in her hands.

"You need to hold it like this unless you'll chop those dainty little fingers off, I hear you're a writer so be extra careful. Just hold it like this and let the knife do the work." She models as she instructs Mun-yeong slicing the carrots into perfect rounds, before handing the utensil back to her.

"Try."

And so she does and they're nowhere near as perfect, not as even but they aren't too bad and pride sears under her skin.

"I did it."

"They look great. Keep going just like that." The praise makes her light-headed and she keeps chopping, wide smile spread across her lips.

"Hey Mun-yeong-ah, do you like this here?" Seung-jae calls from her spot on the couch, standing on it to put a sparkling string of snowflakes draping from the curtains.

She nods in reply. Too choked up to find her voice.

Her friend looks at her with warm knowing eyes before turning back to her decorations.

"We should let Mun-yeong put the star on top. Hey, Mun-yeong we're done over here, you wanna put the finishing touch?" Jae-su calls out to her, bits of tinsel lost in his hair as he waves her over to the almost completely decorated tree. The lights are twinkling, reflecting beautifully in the glass and she steps forward with her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

She stands in front of the tree, staring up at the empty spot for the star.

Gang-tae places it in her hand, his thumb gently swiping across her trembling skin.

"Here I'll help." Sang-in whispers, stepping behind her and lifting her off her feet so she can reach the top of the tree. Tears glisten in her eyes as she finally places the star on top.

"It's perfect." Her voice is too soft, she doubts anyone heard it.

But then they all explode in a small applause.

"It looks great Mun-yeongie! Nice job!" Sang-tae calls out, clapping the loudest before meandering off to try to steal food from the kitchen.

They all snigger at his pained "ow!" as he's thwarted once again by his watchful mother.

By the time they're sitting down to enjoy the feast her mind is going a mile a minute, listening to the rambunctious conversations around her as her world collides with Gang-tae's. She's never sat at this dining table before, opting to eat her meals in the safety of her room. But now she understands why others do this, eat together. It makes her fuller than the food she's shoveling into her mouth.

"One more minute." Sang-tae says loudly checking his watch.

When the clock strikes twelve, all is moving and she's passed from arm to arm until she's finally in familiar arms, Moon Gang-tae. He rocks her side to side as he tucks his head into her hair.

"Merry Christmas Mun-yeong, I love you."

She clings to him, emotions bubbling up as she fights back her tears. I love you. She thinks it loudly in her mind, this must be what love is. The way that she feels about him has to be love, it's too big to be anything else. She's certain.

"You don't need to say anything. Just know that I'm not going anywhere. That's love. It doesn't ever leave."

All these damn confessions. He'll be the death of her.

"Annoying."

He giggles before pulling away to hug his mom and Seung-jae fills his void, lifting her off her feet and she can't stop the cheerful laugh that explodes out of her.

She's happy.

They all clean up, pushing her on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate with large marshmallows. And then she realizes they're all going to leave, she's going to be alone again.

Cold icy dread fills her gut until the inevitable moment comes.

"We're all done. It's pretty late. We should start heading out." That's Gang-tae's mother as she packs away her things neatly and Mun-yeong wants to get down on her knees and beg them all to stay.

She's pulled into a warm embrace again.

"You make sure to come over often okay? We need to practice your chopping skills and fatten you up, you’re too skinny.” 

It's not a question but she still nods letting the woman hug her and Sang-tae ruffles her hair, punching at her chin and asking her to keep Gang-tae in line, she smirks in response nodding.

Seung-jae hugs her and promises to text when she gets home, skipping out the door to catch her taxi.

Gang-tae kisses her head and she presses her face into his neck, "Thank you."

He hugs her closely, breathing her in before twin coughs cause them to break apart.

He rubs his neck bashfully under the hard looks from his mother and Sang-in.

With a final bow, Gang-tae leaves with his family. But not before promising to come over tomorrow. Love never leaves, it always comes back.

Then it's just her and her driver.

"He's a good kid. Did you have fun today?"

She turns to look at him with wet eyes, tears finally falling after all the kindness she was shown today.

"Sang-in," she chokes out, "Why didn't you ever quit?"

He looks at her curiously before walking to sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to him in invitation. After a moment she sits down beside him melting into his arm around her shoulder.

"You were such a demon." He finally speaks and she turns to stare at him, his eyes are filled with fondness. "You were demanding and I was scared to come to work sometimes honestly, I did think about quitting once. Just once. But then I read that story you wrote, do you remember?"

She sniffles, "Yeah. The girl who ate everything."

He nods in agreement, "The girl in that story was so lonely that whenever she made a friend she would swallow them whole. Or they would run away. I knew that girl just needed someone to show her that you don't need to own everything you love. They can just live beside you, loving you too."

"I bought you a gift." She pulls away, brushing away her tears to collect the gift that Gang-tae helped her wrap in her room when everyone was busy.

She runs off to get the gift and brings it back to Sang-in, thrusting it at his chest. He looks at her with wide eyes before grabbing the shiny red square.

He opens it gently, peeling away the tape instead of ripping the paper, reverence in his very move.

He stares at the black box before prying it open.

Two buttery soft leather gloves stare back at him.

The gift feels stupid and too little in the wake of the words he just said to her and she's about to tell him that she'll get him something better and this isn't his real gift, she's never done this Christmas thing before she needs practice and--

"I love them."

He slips the driving gloves out of the box, sliding them over his calloused hands.

"Thank you Mun-yeong."

His reaction forces her to be honest with him, "I want you to be my driver for a long time. So you need to take care of your hands."

He nods softly, "Yes. I'll make sure that I do."

"I also got you this. If it's too weird you don't have to use it."

It had caught her eye at the mall, seeing it on others before but knowing she would never get to give it to anyone. But then Gang-tae had been there telling her to get it, she looked at him like he was insane but he insisted, "You know who you want to give it to. Stop hesitating, your heart knows best."

So she shoves another box at him, looking away in embarrassment, not emotionally ready to watch him open it.

He gasps when he does. A loud gasp that bursts out of his chest, he leans back into the couch as if sitting is too difficult.

"I.. Mun-yeong... I don't....thank you."

#1 dad.

Those are the words on the tie that hangs from his finger, the tie is silky smooth a deep hue of blue that has bits of silver when it catches the light.

In every sense of the word he's been like a father to her. More than her own father ever has.

"He's really rubbing off on you isn't he?"

She can't argue. Without his guidance she would have never done any of this, wouldn't have looked into her own heart to find these hidden dormant emotions. 

"I think I love him."

Sang-in stills before brushing her hair behind her ears, "Then I'm not the one you should be telling. Love should be expressed. “ 

“I will. I’m going to tell him.” 

Tomorrow can't come soon enough. She has to tell him how she feels.

I'm in love with Moon Gang-tae.

[iamalivenow]

“Xiao.”

He had told Aether plenty of times to call him should he ever need but the reality of it happening is somehow different then he imagined it would be. His name, in Aether's voice, glides along the wind and settles formlessly in the space around him. There's a pull, at his core, a contract that he initiated being fulfilled, that turns him in the direction the wind came from.

No one had ever- no one other than Morax has ever called him like this and he had assumed the pull was divine in nature, but no. No, that doesn't seem to be right.

He rides the wind quickly, and maybe a moment after being called, he arrives.

The rush of a river greats him, a crackle of a fire, and Aether, wide eyed.

“Did you not expect it to work?” Xiao can't help but ask, Aether looks so startled. “Did you doubt me?”

“Just didn't think you'd come so soon, is all.” He says, and smiles. “Happy Birthday.”

Ah-

Why does it feel like his face is burning.  

“Yes.”

Aether laughs, a soft sound he's not used to hearing. Warm and gentle, something about it reminds him Morax or Barbatos. Maybe his call here was divine after all.

“Thank you for the letter. And the Crystalflies.” Xiao finally notices, and how did he miss it up till now, that Aether's hair is out of it's usual braid, dripping down onto the sand. It's even longer like this, which makes sense but somehow the thought never even occurred to him. “I was wondering if you'd want to put them in my hair for me?”

An utterly lethal blow.

Completely devastating.

He debates very heavily inducing a Karma flare up and bolting immediately.

“Can't do it yourself?”

“I-” Aether sighs and oh no did he say the wrong thing please don't let that have been the wrong thing to say- “My sister usually did my hair for me. And then since I got here I'd ask Paimon but she's-” Aether tilts his head and Xiao glances over to the tiny sleeping form, curled up by the fire. “It's long.”

“It is.” Xiao nods and Aether nods too, “Did you call me just to do your hair?”

“Ha-” It sounds like a laugh, maybe, but he gives up half way through. “Y-yes. I guess I did. You don't mind, right?”

“I- I don't.” He moves closer and is Aether blushing or is that just the light of the fire reflecting on his skin- “It's the oddest thing anyone has ever asked of me.”

“So it's memorable?”

Very.

Very memorable.

Xiao doesn't answer, just places a hand on Aether's shoulder, slowly, and turns him around so that Xiao could get to his hair.

“Why is it... wet?”

“I just washed it- I didn't want it to be gross for- for you.”

For him? Was this a plan- was the a premeditated plan- was this his birthday gift? Xiao swallows on nothing, and drags his fingers through Aether's hair.

“I've never served as an attendant in this capacity before. Don't blame me if it's bad.”

“It won't be!” He sounds so confident. “Tell me when you want to put the Crystalflies in. I have them.” Aether's head tilts back- so that he could have an easier time of it probably.

His hair is thick and healthy, Xiao understands why he braids it, walking around with all of it down would certainly get in the way of fighting, and probably be too hot to bare anyway. With it wet it's a little darker than usual, almost golden in the firelight, like spun thread that he runs his fingers through slowly and carefully.

Morax, on occasion, would make jewelry or art that required thin gold thread. Xiao had always stared with a sort of distant admiration, more for the act of creation than for the material but he really feels like he's coming around on it all of a sudden.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to braid Aether's hair, tapping him on the shoulder whenever he decides to place the glowing material into whatever space demands it. There's some realization that none of them are necessary, really, that Aether's hair is already as beautiful as it could ever be, but the Crystalflies sparkle in cool blue tones that do look gorgeous in his hair.

At some point, maybe half way through the braid, Aether's shoulders seem to relax which makes Xiao tense for a moment. He's not sure why, he's seen Aether relaxed around him before, but now? With Xiao's hands in his hair? It's totally different- radically different- now he's responsible for that and thats-

Xiao breaths out through his nose very, very, very slowly.

“When you're done, don't run away.” And Xiao doesn't jump at that. He does not. He didn't let his guard down enough that just hearing Aether talk would make him jump. Because he wouldn't do that. And he didn't.

“I don't run away.” It comes across a little indignant- maybe because it is, because he doesn't run away.

He tactically retreats.

It's different.

“I made you something- food. I made you food. That you like. And I was hoping you could try it for me, with me.”

“Okay.”

“Mm.” He sounds satisfied as he settles again, and Xiao keeps going. Being cooked for- Xiao settles on a tight braid, with most of the Crystalflies nestled at the point where the braid starts, a crystalline cluster that refracts the light and leaves shiny little blue dots along the crown of his head.

“Done.” Aether steps away from him, Xiao feels a weird pang of longing, and he walks the few steps to the river, twisting this way and that. Now out of the glow of the firelight, he's light up in soft blue and Xiao was right. They do look pretty in his hair.

“Oh,  they're gorgeous!” You're gorgeous. “I'm going to try and wear it like this for as long as I can- Xiao, they're beautiful.” You're beautiful. “Okay- okay-” He comes bouncing back, smile as radiant as the crystals in his hair- “Sit down, eat with me.”

“Okay.” Aether grabs his hand and tugs him down onto one of the logs set by the fire, and Xiao goes, staring up at him like he's the sun. “You didn't have to do this.”

“I wanted to. And you said you wouldn't mind, spending time with me.”

“I don't.”

“I'm glad.” There's the sun, being absolutely blinding again. “Here. I hope I made it right. The consistency is sort of a nightmare to nail.”

Oh there's a plate of food in his hands- he takes the first bite, and it's perfect. Dreamlike and perfect.

“You didn't have to-” He starts again and Aether cuts him off.

“Did you like it?” Xiao nods and Aether sits back, sighing with relief. Why? He gets it perfect every time. “I made more, you can take it with you when you head back to whatever it is you were up to before I interrupted you.”

“I wasn't. Doing anything.” He puts more tofu in his mouth to make himself stop talking.

They eat in comfortable silence, Xiao taking turns staring at his feet and at Aether's braid.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, for coming over and indulging me.” Aether says quietly, and moves to sit a little closer to Xiao. He's warm, though Xiao runs hotter.

Xiao takes a deep breath.

“I enjoyed it.”

“I'm glad.” Aether turns his head and presses his lips to Xiao's cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Yes.” Because he can't think of a single thing else to say.

Aether laughs and rests his head on Xiao's shoulder.

“Thank you.” He says and Aether nods, pressing another kiss into his neck.

Maybe he can learn to like his birthday, actually.

[coreastories]

The Heartbeat

AO3: Part 14 of Days and Nights of Forever  

One dark day for Corea, one terrifying day for Gon and Tae-eul, but life goes on.

When it's fate, there are no coincidences.

Directly follows 

Corea News: The queen of Corea stuns in London and 

Corea News: A dark day for Corea

I’m so sorry. When I dropped A Dark Day for Corea last Friday, I meant to get this done the next day and not prolong the suspense. But I underestimated it. Sunday came and went and I wasn’t done. 

I spent all weekend finishing this so I couldn’t reply to you guys either. I mean, what could I say to you all wailing at me except that I’m writing, which I should DO, not say, right? 

So here it is. 11,000 words. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy. 

With thanks to @collectsfallenstars and @pateetsie for support and threats and encouragements and threats and confidence and threats and all the love and swearing at me. 

November was more beautiful in Corea. Perhaps it was unfair to make the comparison because Corea just happened to be closer to the tropics, closer to the sun, farther from the frozen winds of the north, but she couldn’t help it, even if she did have one sunny day in London and that was considered lucky, Elizabeth had told her, especially in November! 

No, lucky was living in this beautiful country, coming home to her husband, and with the view of all these red and gold trees outside the car window. 

And she had breakfast ready when she got home. She grinned. She thought about calling Gon again but he was probably busy cooking, and she didn't want him to time her arrival. She'd already ruined her own surprise by giving in and calling him earlier. 

“Jangmi, did you tell your omma we’re home?” 

“Ye, Mama. And she says she’s got cheonggukjang ready for us.”  

Both Tae-Eul and In-Yeong said, “Oh my God.” They laughed. Jangmi’s mother’s cheonggukjang was a hit among the guards-- and the king and queen.

And after days of British food, chonggukjang would be heavenly. 

“Don’t tell Ho-pil until we’ve all had some,” said In-yeong. “I don’t know how he makes it disappear so fast. Maybe he has a black hole in his stomach and he just pours it in.”

They were still laughing when Tae-Eul saw it. The other car. 

It was barrelling through the left of the intersection too fast. Too fast to make the turn it should make. 

And then, in contrast to that speeding car, everything else went slow. 

In this slower time, Tae-Eul recognized several things. 

One: Jangmi was a good defensive driver and had already slowed and stopped the car. 

Two: The other car could have crossed the road, perhaps grazing their front bumper, but it could have gone past all the same.  

Three: The driver of the other car was too senseless to see the opportunity Jangmi provided to avoid collision. In the grip of panic and trying to control his car, Tae-eul saw him wrenching at the steering wheel with both arms in a mindless attempt to make his turn. Even though it was too late. Even though there was no room. 

Four: At that speed, at that trajectory, the other car would nosedive into the side of their car. 

Tae-Eul laid both arms across her lower belly and prayed to God and the fate that brought her here. Was lashing out praying? Because she lashed out in shock and anger that this would happen to her, to Gon, their child. 

Maybe God heard her, or maybe it was her mind playing tricks to help her cope-- the crash was deafening but it was like a gentle rocking when it came. 

It was what happened after that was terrifying. 

Tae-Eul felt her seatbelt simultaneously loosen and tighten around her. For half a second, she was buffeted bodily against nothing but air before she felt secure again. There was a terrible noise like thunder right inside her ears and something slammed onto her face, stunning as a well-placed uppercut. 

She was blinded and her eyes burned. 

She tried to see what had happened to Jangmi and In-Yeong but she cried out at the pain and shut her eyes tight and kept both arms over her pelvis. A firebrand shot through her left shoulder and she cried out again but she kept her arms where they were. 

That was when she prayed. With her eyes watering and burning and her ears ringing, she begged to be safe. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“How are you? It’s not too cold?”

“No. Or maybe I’m just hot. Go back to sleep. I’m going to bed, too.” 

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“I had ban-ban on the plane. Go to sleep. I’ll call you when I wake up. Saranghae.” 

“Saranghae.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“I loved the music and the story but I was honestly so sleepy. It lasted more than two hours. In-yeong had to poke me several times. I lost count after the sixth one. Stop laughing. I bet you fall asleep watching it before it even gets good.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll call you again on your morning.”

“What are you making for your breakfast?” 

“Nothing special. Just eggs and tofu and I have kaktugi.” 

“Mmmm. I miss that.” 

“I miss you. Go to sleep.” 

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t worry so much. Just think of her as any old ahjumma.”

“Are you crazy? She’s the queen.”

“No, she’s not. Not to me. Not to the kingdom missing you. You’re the queen here. She’s a queen. You’re a queen. You’re equals.” 

“I’m wrinkling my nose at that but I miss you. You should have come with me.” 

“You said--” 

“What do you want me to bring you?” 

“Nothing. Just come home.” 

"How cheesy."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 “How was the food?” 

“Quite good. I’ve had Angus roast, fish and chips, a full English breakfast-- the sausages here are good, maybe I can bring some-- scones and clotted cream-- I need you or the cooks to learn to make that-- cottage pie, shepherd’s pie, crumpets, and this thing they call Welsh rarebit? It’s cheese and toast. And I loved the vegetables in my salads. 

“And the milk and cream here--I think it tastes a little bit like Corea’s. It’s so creamy and delicately sweet. 

“I love their chocolate. Cadbury’s. I think we have it at home, right? Should I order more? 

“I forgot to tell you-- I almost drank alcohol at brunch when they sent more dishes and apple cider to our table with the chef’s compliments. In-Yeong thought it was juice too. They forgot I was pregnant. I was taking a sip and it didn’t smell and taste like alcohol but Elizabeth took my glass and told me it can be quite strong here.

“I can’t wait to eat ramyeon, though. And ban-ban. I’ll have them when I’m on the plane. What are you laughing at?”

“You talked for five minutes about food.” 

“That wasn’t five minutes!” 

“I love you. I miss you so much. I’ll see you in… sixteen hours.” 

“I can’t wait.” 

“To see me? Or for ban-ban and ramyeon?” 

“Take a guess.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m here.”

“What?”

“I flew earlier. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll just drive over. Jangmi was on the phone with Yeong long before we landed so I’m sure they’ve arranged things for the escort.”

“But I was going to pick you up-- all right. I’ll see you here, then. Do you want breakfast?” 

“Oh do I! I want everything. I want moo saengchae and galbi and my mouth is watering and I can’t talk anymore. Stop laughing.” 

“I’ll make everything. Saranghae.”

“Nado saranghae.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gon clung to her voice in his head while everything else seemed to ring and clamor in an infuriating barrage of noise.

He had been talking to her less than an hour ago. 

Less than an hour ago, his only thought had been kissing his wife, making breakfast, and holding his wife, his queen, the mother of his child, the best part of his life.

Now he couldn’t get enough air. His mouth was dry and he felt like he’d be violently ill. His hands were fists on his knees and he resisted the urge to thump something.  

He prayed. He listened to her voice from their last conversations together and he prayed. He sat there in the back of his car and prayed as they sped to the hospital. He begged that they weren't his last conversations with her. Begged for her safety. Her safety was his child’s. Both of them had to be safe. He begged to hear that voice again soon. Now. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yeong sat in the front seat and tried not to let his brain spirale. He needed facts, not speculations and imaginings. In his ear, he could hear his team as they kept him up to date on every minute detail. Everyone was his eyes and ears. Yeong listened and tried to stay in the present, not any horrendous future. He was trained to look ten steps ahead. But it was difficult in this case. His brain refused to catalogue the unthinkable.  

The king was quiet in the back seat, still as pale as when Yeong first told him what had happened.  

The queen was supposed to arrive at ten this morning. Yeong already had plans in place for the escort going to the airport and back, because the king wanted to pick up the queen. 

Nine am and the PA office would have given word to the media whether or not the press could gather at the airport. Yeong had already coordinated with the airport authority for traffic and crowd control as a contingency.  

He would have received a brief from the PA office and given a brief to the teams at eight-thirty. 

Before seven o’clock, his phone rang. Jangmi told him the queen’s jet was already approaching Corean airspace and the early arrival was supposed to be a surprise for the king. It was testament to how much Yeong had changed-- or how much he had gotten used to the king and queen anyway-- that he didn’t even sigh. He just ended the call, made another, and deployed Ho-pil’s team to the airport in their SUVs. 

At eight o’clock, Ho-Pil called him. 

“Seonsaengnim. Code Orange. Collision with civilian vehicle. The queen seems to not have major external trauma. No... bleeding. En route to CorGen now. Civilian in custody. Also en route to CorGen under escort. Jang and Park also injured. En route to CorGen.”

A pause. Yeong couldn’t speak and Ho-pil seemed to be catching his breath. And Yeong stupidly waited for the punchline. That he was being pranked. Dumb and dangerous prank, but a prank all the same. But all Ho-pil said next was, “Captain, that fucker was fucking soused. I could smell him when they loaded him on the ambulance. I wish I could kill him.” 

Yeong closed his eyes and tried not to close both fists. Wouldn’t do to break his phone right now. “You said she’s not bleeding?” They both knew the significance of what he meant. 

“No. But after examining her for a bit, they sedated her. They said it was because she couldn’t breathe properly and her heart was already working too hard, which would be bad for both of them. She has a bad friction burn on her left cheek from the airbag. The other windows all held except Jangmi's so the queen didn’t have lacerations. In-Yeong broke her wrist. And Jangmi took a real beating. When they were getting him out, they were so careful, but he still cried out. Never heard him make that noise before. And they both couldn’t hear me, Captain.” 

Yeong took a deep breath. Ho-pil’s report gave him information and time enough to get back his wits and his sense of duty. It was his queen, not his friend. Not his best friend’s wife. And he had to go tell his king, not his best friend. 

“CorGen knows to keep quiet when it’s the royal family. And they know protocol. Don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“Yes, Seonsaengnim. And the EMTs already called Seonsaeng Chae. I’ll call you with updates if you don’t join us first.” 

Yeong hung up. He must have drooped during the call because he realized he had to square his shoulders as he went to find the king. He was almost relieved when the king wasn’t in his suite. To make things simple, he asked the control tower where the king had gone. With the queen away, he could be anywhere. 

The control tower answered quickly: The kitchen. 

Right. Of course. The queen had probably already called him. 

When he entered the kitchen, the king was laying a slab of meat on the grill pan. 

“Yeong-ah. We don’t need to leave. She’s already on her wa--” 

One look at Yeong’s face and the king stopped talking. In quick, efficient movements, the king turned everything off, wiped his hands on a towel, and rounded the counter. “What happened?” His voice was clipped and dangerous.  

Yeong told him. He saw the color drain from the king’s face with every word.  

And then there wasn’t really anything else to say other than, “The car’s ready.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

CorGen was used to VIPs. This hospital was where high society wanted to be treated. They had six VIP rooms and these went to ministers and their families, athletes, actors, chaebol owners, heirs and executives. 

Royalty was a different level altogether. With the queen pregnant and seeing a CorGen doctor, they’ve opened the seventh VIP room. It was reserved for the royal family, always had been since the hospital opened, but the king had never used it yet in his lifetime. 

While the hospital preened at the prestige of opening VIP 7 at last, no one had imagined VIP 7 would ever be needed yet. 

Because the queen was only at fifteen weeks. 

So when the full force of the Royal Guard arrived at the ER, there was a momentary stupefaction as if everyone was waiting for someone to tell them what to do, or to tell them it was just a tasteless, dangerous joke: it couldn’t really be the queen in that gurney.  

Song-eun, arriving at the ER to attend to the queen, saw that freeze. She had frozen herself. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing until she exhaled when she saw the queen wasn’t  bleeding. She had expected the worst. 

And then everyone moved in sync. 

They wheeled the queen straight to the prepared trauma room and surrounded her while the EMT and residents rattled off vitals and conditions. Airway and breathing good. Hypotensive because of vasodilation, CO at 45% higher than normal, right, they would fix that. The queen was already on oxygen and fluids. Pulse ox was stabilizing. 

“Mama, I’m here. You’re with me,” Song-eun said to Tae-eul, this queen who had made Song-eun a friend, a sister. “I’m going to take care of you and the little bean.” 

Sok-jun joined her with two other attendings--neuro and trauma--and they all rattled off directions to their residents and interns. One of them took samples for the trauma panel and the KB test while Song-eun assessed the queen. 

“Mama, I’m going to perform a pelvic exam to check on you, okay?” 

Under the sheet, her hands moving efficiently, no blood, everything normal. Good. 

The queen was already in a neck brace, and she didn’t seem to have spinal injuries as the EMTs have said. The fetal HR monitor beeped steadily. Almost sixteen weeks. Could probably detect omma had been in trouble.

“Mama, you’re doing good so far. And the little bean isn’t upset either.” 

Sok-jun was finished with his own examination and did FAST again even though the EMT’s already did. Song-eun scanned the monitor alongside him. No free fluid. Good. He met Song-eun’s eyes and nodded and left. 

The neuro attending was already examining the queen’s eyes. Song-eun saw what he saw. “Reactive, symmetrical pupils.” Thank heavens. Good reaction to stimulus. “We can check for focal deficits later. Keep her stabilized.” 

Both of Tae-eul’s eyes were red with corneal abrasion and Song-eun winced. She gestured to one of the interns to administer antibiotic eye drops. 

“Get me that KB test result asap,” she said as Tae-eul got the polymyxin for her eyes and an ortho team looked at the queen’s legs, which had ugly bruises. But they were superficial. “Let’s use the Lodox right now and then take her to CT. Head and chest just to be sure." Neuro nodded. "Keep her asleep for another hour. Mom and baby are stable. Let’s keep it that way.” 

She’d just only noticed and recognized Seok Ho-pil when he spoke. He had stood quietly at the door, not getting in the way, but not relenting to be pushed out either. 

“Seonsaengnim, forgive me-- are all those safe for Her Majesty? The CT and the Lodox? What’s the KB test? And can she hear you? I thought she was sedated so she won’t be distressed?”

Song-eun nodded. “We talk to patients under sedation. Sometimes they can hear us. And no, she’s not in distress or in pain, don’t worry. And yes, everything’s safe. Absolutely. I want the CT of her head and chest because that’s where the airbags hit. The Lodox is a full body scan, very safe, low-dose x-ray. I don’t want to miss any injury at all. The Lodox will see if there’s any and we can determine if we need more imaging done then. The KB test is to check if and how much the baby’s hemoglobin transferred to the mother’s bloodstream and we can prevent the potential of Rhesus disease if mom and baby have different Rh blood factors.” 

She looked at the rest of the Royal Guard, all listening intently. They were probably privy to the fact that the queen was a rare B negative. It was why Song-eun had been so afraid if the queen was bleeding. Only 1 in 3000 Coreans matched Tae-eul’s Rhesus negative blood. She could take O-neg, but if she needed platelets… Song-eun shuddered. At least she hadn’t slipped and informed the entire room. But the entire room would probably be under NDAs in a matter of minutes. 

She could see eight guards in total, scattered in the ER lobby, gathering stares from everyone, and three had already moved ahead, probably to check the Diagnostics Room where the Lodox was. 

And then suddenly there were more black suits almost completely covering up the seafoam walls of the hospital. 

Song-eun stepped out of the trauma room and came face to face with the king. 

She had faced her share of devastated husbands in her career and she hoped she never had to look at the king looking like that again. This was her king and her namdongsaeng and it was heartbreaking to see him so terrified. 

She broke protocol and spoke first. “Pyeha, we’re still about to confirm with CT and Lodox about the queen’s injuries, but the baby seems to be fine right now and the queen has passed all tests so far. We just need to confirm and keep them both stable. We’ll do our best. We have everything we need here.” 

The king didn’t speak, just stepped past her and into the room. His eyes landed on the monitors and then on the queen. Song-eun was glad everyone had been prompt and fastidious about keeping the queen under a warm sheet. 

As it was, the king only saw the queen’s face, with those angry red patches on her left cheek and jaw. The king took a deep shuddering breath and released it, hands rising and fingertips pressing to his eyes. 

Song-eun looked away. 

She nodded to the orderlies scattered like discarded umbrellas because of the arrival of the Royal Guard. They were easy to spot in their lilac scrubs in the mass of black suits. The two closest bowed to the guards on the way, bowed to the king, bowed to the queen, and then pushed and pulled the gurney. 

The king startled as if he was going to grab the gurney but stopped himself. Song-eun laid a hand on his arm, and he jumped again. 

Song-eun pressed her hand on his arm more firmly. “We’re taking Her Majesty to the Lodox and then to CT. You can come with us if you like, Pyeha.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok-nam watched Mo Jin-ha burst into tears and wished she could just as easily let go like that. But she couldn’t, she never had, and one of these days, it might kill her, but she wasn’t going to faint this time. 

Not until she heard something that would really make her faint. 

“I’m sorry-- it’s just-- you know how much I struggled before I finally had Woo-jin and this is-- this is awful.” 

Ok-nam patted Jin-ha on the shoulder. Poor Jin-ha had had three miscarriages. It was why she was here, crying, instead of following the king to CorGen. Woo-jin was her little miracle, but the loss of her other children still stung. Would always do. 

“Hush now. Let’s wait and pray. We should hear from them any moment now. And you need to make an announcement before rumors spread.” 

Jin-ha nodded, wiping tears and straightening her spine. Ok-nam turned to the two policemen who had arrived, hoping to get a statement here but instead seeing the press secretary lose the composure she was famous for.

“Drink your tea, gentlemen,” Ok-nam said. “You do have colleagues who went to the hospital?”

“Yes, ma’am. But if we could get a statement from you--when you hear from them-- then we wouldn’t need to disturb Their Majesties.”

Jin-ha gave another sob. “Oh, the poor queen. She loves that baby so much-- I hope she doesn’t--” 

Ok-nam thumped a hand on her chabudai and Jin-ha and both men jumped. “Stop that,” Ok-nam said, ignoring how her heart thumped mournfully and fearfully in her chest. “Don’t think that. Don’t speak of that.” 

The phone rang and they all jumped again. Ok-nam answered it just as Seung-ah arrived and knelt beside her. 

“Captain Jo, what has--” 

“Lady Noh. The queen is fine. No major injuries. They’re still monitoring the queen and the baby. The king is with her. They’re getting her scans.” Ok-nam closed her eyes and sagged in relief. Jin-ha gave a sob of relief and Ok-nam shushed her. 

“Seung-ah has the accident footage so you can see,” Jo Yeong continued over the phone. “We’ve already released it to the police. Jangmi has a clavicle fracture and rib fractures and In-yeong has a broken wrist, three fractured fingers, bruised ribs.”

Poor Jangmi and In-yeong. “Do you-- do you have that driver?”

“Yes.” And that was all Yeong said. Ok-nam heard rage in that calm voice. She felt rage herself. “I’ve sent all information to Secretary Mo. She can make the statement at her discretion. I’ll update you.” 

Ok-nam put the phone back in its cradle. Seung-ah, pale-faced and pale-lipped, raised her iPad but Ok-nam turned away. 

“Are you mad? I don’t want to see it. Show it to these gentlemen.” 

Jin-ha seemed to have already received the same footage and the information Captain Jo mentioned in her iPad, and judging by her gasping over the screen, Ok-nam made the right decision not to look at the footage. 

“I’m going to pray.” 

She took a private, empty, circuitous route so she wouldn’t trail anxious and hysterical court maids and court ladies. She had no time and no patience to comfort anyone. 

In the kitchen garden amongst the onggi, her tears surprised her. She wiped them almost angrily. 

There was no call for tears yet. 

She bowed and prayed. 

----------------------------------------------------------------

The sound is not unlike galloping horses. Maybe galloping horses on the coast, because he can also hear a swishing noise like the wind and the surf. 

Tae-eul is laughing. “It’s so loud and fast! Are you crying?” 

“No.” He blinks his eyes and sniffs as quietly as he can. He sees Song-eun biting her lips and looking amused as she holds the Doppler against Tae-eul’s belly. 

Tae-eul squeezes his hand. He moves his eyes away from the ultrasound screen just as she also does. Their eyes meet, and his breath stutters a bit because her eyes are at their most beautiful yet since he met her. 

He kisses her hand. And with their child's heartbeat drumming in the background, they grin at each other. 

------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Gon listened to it more times than he'd admit. It was in his playlist for cooking breakfast. He even danced to it in the shower. Tae-eul had caught him at it one time and had laughed so hard and so long she had to sit on the floor.

She didn’t tease him about it, but she invariably looked at him and giggled whenever anyone brought up the baby’s heartbeat or when she listened to the file in her own phone. 

He stopped the audio file and put his phone back in his pocket. The beeps of the two heart rate monitors were discordant and so different from the rhythmic gallop and swish of his baby’s real heartbeat but he let those beeps deafen him to everything else. 

He kissed Tae-eul’s hand and wished her awake. 

She was so pale against the cream sheets on the bed. She now had bandages over her cheek and jaw. Her eyelids were rimmed with red. Her brows were slightly furrowed. She wasn’t tranquil in her sleep. 

They’d told him she wasn’t in pain. What scared him was if she was trapped in some nightmare after the terrifying experience she just went through. 

It had been almost an hour or so since the tests were done. The CT and the Lodox both found a hairline fracture on her left clavicle. 

They’d put her arm in a sling for that and kept her in the neck brace in case of whiplash. Everything else seemed fine. Her head, her spine. Until she woke up and complained of what else hurt, they had no way of knowing, apart from the bad bruising on her left shoulder, on her toes, and on the front of her shins when her legs might have flown and hit against the front seat. 

Her blood pressure was back to normal. They’d told him she had been distressed--in the emotional term-- when the ambulance arrived, her heart rate too fast and her breathing erratic, which was why they sedated her and put her on oxygen immediately. 

He just knew why she’d been so anxious and afraid. 

Song-eun walked into the room and Gon blinked back the sting in his eyes. “Noona.” 

“Pyeha. You know Her Majesty is Rhesus negative. We can confirm now that Little bean is Rhesus positive, just like you. We found some hemoglobin of little bean’s in the queen’s circulation so I’m giving her the RhoGAM now.” 

Gon watched Song-eun administer the shot on Tae-eul’s arm. 

So he saw it when Tae-eul grabbed Song-eun’s hand. 

“Mama, you’re awake. How are you feeling? I just gave you a RhoGAM shot. We talked about it before.” 

Gon got up and Tae-eul saw him. She let go of Song-eun and reached for him with both hands at first, but both hands went to her belly below her navel, where the fetal HR monitor’s attachments were. 

The vital signs monitor made a harsh protest. Tae-eul’s heart rate was spiking. 

Gon said, “Tae-eul, you’re all right, the baby’s okay.” 

She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but made an expression of pain, touched her jaw, and cried out when she discovered the raw skin of her burn there. 

Gon grabbed her hands in his, looked into her eyes and said, “Tae-eul. You’re all right. The baby’s all right.” 

She just looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him. And she was already crying. 

Gon stared at her. Why wasn’t she-- and then it clicked. She was probably still deaf from the airbags. He looked at Song-eun and she had obviously come to the same conclusion. She tapped her ears, and then pointed and nodded at the fetal monitor, already rounding the bed to get to it herself. 

Gon beat her to it. He let go of Tae-eul with one hand and reached for the fetal monitor to turn the screen toward Tae-eul. His movement was enough to make Tae-eul look in that direction, turning her head as much as she could in the brace. 

Gon returned both hands to cradle hers. He bent down to press his lips against her fingertips. He could feel himself shaking with relief now that she was awake.   

She looked at the fetal monitor for long moments. The vital signs monitor quieted but her crying continued. Gon bent over her and gently took her in his arms without actually lifting her up. He snaked one arm under her waist and the other arm under her side. She sobbed against his shoulder and he felt her grip the back of his pullover. 

He pressed his cheek against her hair, glad she was awake, his heart breaking a little with each sob. She shouldn’t have had to go through this. This much fear. This much worry. 

Her sobs slowly stopped until she was only taking deep shuddering breaths. Gon gently pulled back his arms, kissed her uninjured cheek, and wiped her eyes, careful not to actually go near her eyelids with the tissues. 

Song-eun caught Tae-eul’s attention. As if she hadn’t just witnessed a breakdown, Song-eun spoke and gestured at the same time, and she enunciated carefully so that even Gon saw her words as much as heard them. 

“Tae-eul. Look at me. Baby is here--” Song-eun cupped both hands low on her belly, over her pelvis. “Airbag was here--” Song-eun pointed both open palms on her shoulders and mimed the slam of the airbags over her face and shoulders with a slamming movement of her hands. 

“So baby is safe. Okay?” She turned to Gon. “And your car was awesome. God. I have to get one of those.” 

“I’ll buy you one,” Gon said, without taking his eyes off Tae-eul. She had calmed down, wincing and squinting with her eyes, looking between them and the fetal monitor. 

Song-eun nudged him away from Tae-eul’s side and took his place, sitting beside Tae-eul’s hip and leaning forward to Tae-eul. She held up her index finger. “Follow the finger, Mama. Good. Okay. I’m going to use my light.” She shone that light in and out of Tae-eul’s eyes. Then she placed both her palms under Tae-eul’s. “Pyeha, show her to push on my hands. I saw how she gripped your sweater but I want to make sure.”

Gon mimed bearing down with his hands. Tae-eul pushed. Next, Song-eun mimed making fists with both hands. Tae-eul did that, too. Song-eun swiveled her hips on the bed so she faced the window, leaned back on her hands, and extended and raised her legs, one after the other. Tae-eul did the same. 

Song-eun smiled and squeezed Tae-eul’s hands. “Good, good. Just need to wait for your ears to come back. They’ll be back in a bit. You’re good.” 

Gon nudged Song-eun aside and she willingly went, smiling. He pushed the button on the side panel and raised Tae-eul’s bed gently, watching her face for any discomfort from her fracture.

Then when she was more or less sitting up, he leaned forward and hugged her as gently as he could, kissed her on the forehead and on her right cheek. He felt her arms close around his waist, and he pulled back before she tried to raise her arms higher. He didn’t want her to strain her fracture. 

He enunciated like he saw Song-eun do, not exaggerated but clearly defining each syllable. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?” 

Her eyes went from his lips to his eyes.  She spoke carefully now, testing how much her jaw would let her do. “Why can’t I hear you?”  

Gon said, “The airbags.” 

Song-eun said, “It’s temporary. Around sixteen to forty-eight hours. Is there a ringing noise?”

It took three tries before Tae-eul understood the question, then she shook her head no. 

“Oh, good. I’m glad you don’t have tinnitus.” Song-eun cast another long look at the vital signs monitor, smiled at Tae-eul, retrieved the empty syringe she’d dropped when Tae-eul grabbed her, and left, saying she’ll be back later. 

“Did you catch that? She said your deafness will last overnight or two days.” 

Tae-eul nodded. Then she looked past him at the fetal monitor again, blinking, her eyes spilling tears. Her hands went up to her eyes and Gon stopped her hands before they made contact. She looked at him, wincing. “My eyes hurt.” “I know. I’m sorry. That’s from the airbags, too. Here, noona gave me your eye drops.” 

If she didn’t catch that, she quickly understood when he came back to her side with the bottle he’d fetched from her bedside table. Tae-eul being Tae-eul, she tried to be helpful. When she couldn’t tilt her head back at all in the neck brace, she tried anyway. “Ow.” She looked down at her shoulder and her sling as if discovering it for the first time.

Gon used her bed’s recliner and applied the eye drops. 

“You have a crack on your clavicle. So don’t move your shoulder or your arms. Does your neck hurt? We’re not sure if you have some muscle strain there.” 

“Will you just use your phone? Or find a pen and paper. A… a whiteboard and marker. I’m getting tired trying to read your lips.” 

That return of her spirit made him smile. He put down the bottle of eye drops and started writing on her palm instead. And grinned when she also smiled. 

But when he was done, her lips were trembling and her face was twisting. She reached for him without raising her hands much from her lap. 

Carefully so he wouldn’t jolt her injuries, he moved forward where he sat on her right. He slid his arm around her waist and gently pulled her close. She sighed and entirely rested her right side against him. 

“I can’t believe it. Just-- just my collarbone?” 

He nodded. It wasn’t just her collarbone, but he could elaborate later. 

“I was so scared. I thought it would be worse--”  

“Me too.” He wrote the hangul on her palm. 

“What about Jangmi and In-yeong?”

“They’re okay, but they have fractures. They’re in surgery to fix them.” 

“Oh no. Fractures where?” 

“I don’t really know yet. I’ve been with you all this time.” 

“They’re going to be so frustrated,” Tae-eul said. “They’ll have to be off-duty.” 

“Well, you’ll also be off-duty. You can all be off-duty together.”

“Talk again.” 

“What is it?”

She pressed her hand against his chest. “I can feel your voice.”

“Oh. It’s the vibrations.” 

She pressed her fingertips at his throat. “I feel your voice better here. Say something.”

“Saranghae. I was scared to death. I’m grateful you’re all right. Are you really all right?” 

She nodded, eyes spilling tears again. “You and Song-eun said I am.” And her eyes flicked to the fetal monitor. 

Gon sighed and held her closer. 

“And you’re sure the baby’s all right? What did Song-eun say?” 

This time, he took his phone out of his pocket and typed on it with his arms around her. 

She said we’re lucky you’re only almost 16 weeks. The baby’s still small, and the layers of protection are thicker than if you were further along. You did have to get a RhoGAM shot now, and Song-eun says she’ll monitor the baby for Rhesus disease from now on.  

Tae-eul was nodding as she read his screen. The Rhesus incompatibility situation wasn’t new to them. They’d learned about it in her first screenings. 

Do you have other questions?

Tae-eul stiffened a little in his arms, and Gon thought she was finally going to ask about the driver. Gon had been trying not to think of him either. He had focused on Tae-eul, but now that she was awake and asking questions, the driver was invading his thoughts. 

He still didn’t know much aside from the fact that he was completely drunk. 

However, after relaxing in his arms again, Tae-eul poked the top right of his phone screen and said, “It’s almost eleven. Why am I not hungry? I haven’t eaten in twelve hours.”

Gon exhaled a laugh. He kissed her hair. He loved this woman. He typed, You ate at eleven pm?

“Don’t go there.” 

Still smiling, he typed, I think they gave you something in your IV so you won’t feel acidic and hungry in case you stayed asleep longer. And they gave you vitamins and other essentials. I’ll go ask if you can eat. 

He gently maneuvered her back onto her bed. She sighed against her pillow and then looked at the fetal monitor again. Her eyes suddenly went droopy, and Gon knew her adrenaline spike after waking up had worn off now that she knew their baby was safe. And her eyes were probably tired anyway. With her corneal abrasions, sleeping would do her good. 

“Hold off on the food,” she said as she closed her eyes. “But get me my kalbi.”

Gon pushed the bed’s button again and put the bed back in full recline. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then on her lips, lingering there for several long moments. He loved her, he had missed her, and today he’d nearly lost her.  

When they parted, she said, “Saranghae.”

“Nado.” 

He didn’t leave her, of course. Gon dropped on the armchair and took several deep breaths, exhaling quietly. His relief sent him doubling over, elbows on his knees, and he thanked God over and over. A litany of Gamsahabnida. 

Then he leaned back on the armchair and just looked at her. Now her face no longer looked pinched, as if she was truly sleeping now. Once he was sure she was in deep sleep, Gon hit 3 on his phone. 

“Yeong. Ask Dr Chae if Tae-eul can eat. She’s asleep now but she asked about food.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.” And before Gon could ask, Yeong added, “My report is in the Drive. I have a lead so I’m about to leave, Pyeha. We’ll continue updating the doc.” 

“All right. Thank you.” 

Gon took a deep breath and navigated to the Drive. He wasn’t about to leave Tae-eul’s side and Yeong couldn’t deliver the report personally, so this Drive folder, usually for documentation only and something Gon had never looked at, came in handy. 

He saw the thumbnail of the footage and his jaw clenched. As king and sovereign justice, he had to watch it. 

He watched Jangmi approach the intersection defensively, not crossing it even with the light on green because of that suspicious oncoming white car from the left. 

He watched the white car barrel through the intersection-- other cars swerving to a halt. 

He watched his wife’s car stop beyond the path of the white car, just like all other cars had done. 

He watched the white car swerve for no reason at the last second and ram into his wife’s car, even though practically all the cars had given it a clear path across. 

He watched it twice and closed the video before his blood boiling made him throw his phone at the wall.  

He could feel his jaw trembling with rage and he swore under his breath to release some of his anger. It made him feel dirty even though Tae-eul was asleep and couldn’t have heard him. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Tae-eul, letting the sight of her calm him. 

He opened the report next. Aside from details that he already knew, like the time and location of the collision, and Tae-eul’s condition at the time of the ambulance response, it now included photos of Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s x-rays and Yeong’s notes. 

Jang Mi-reuk: 

lacerations on the face, neck and arm (left)

Type 1 distal clavicle fracture (left)

Type A oblique rib fractures (left posterior 4th, 5th and 6th ribs) 

Type B transverse rib fracture (left posterior 7th rib)

30% pneumothorax (left lung) 

severe bruising on the left side

sensorineural hearing loss and tinnitus (prognosis: temporary)

Park In-yeong: 

bruised ribs (left)

distal radius fracture (right) 

displaced, mid-shaft and intra-articular fractures of the phalanges (left little finger, ring finger and middle finger)

sensorineural hearing loss (prognosis: temporary)

Gon was glad Jangmi wasn’t worse. He was the only one on the left side of the car, the side of the collision. The other car had rammed the queen’s car a little behind Jangmi’s seat, and even with the car’s airbags and collision safety technology, look at all those broken bones. And his lung had collapsed.  

Yeong’s report says they didn’t know how exactly In-yeong broke her wrist and fingers. Probably from slamming them against something during the crash. 

Damn. And it was In-yeong’s right wrist. She wouldn’t be able to shoot a gun for weeks. The little crack shot wouldn’t like that. 

The next page was about the driver. 

Gon read it all but the only thing that stood out was the blood alcohol concentration. The driver weighed 160 pounds with .25 BAC. 

That was beyond driving under the influence. Influence was about a quarter of the man’s blood alcohol level. What the driver did was practically-- 

Gon’s brain supplied manslaughter. He closed his eyes. No one had died. But someone could have. Someone could have. And if Gon hadn’t bought the safest car in the world, or if Jangmi simply chose any of the other cars in the fleet, where would Gon be right now? 

---------------------------------------------------------------

“SPEAK UP! I ASKED YOU WHAT HAPPENED TO THE QUEEN AND YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ME!”

Ho-pil gestured to Dong-min and ran to VIP 6, the VIP room where he could hear Jangmi bellowing. He found the man shouting at his nurse from his bed by the window. 

On the other bed, In-yeong was awake and looking mournful. When she saw Ho-pil, she said, “I can’t hear it but it’s hurting my eardrums. How’s the queen?”

Ho-pil gave her two thumbs up. Queen was okay. Baby was okay. In-yeong sighed and then winced when that action jogged her ribs. 

Ho-pil marched over to Jangmi, who was still bellowing like a wounded bull. 

He was a wounded bull. His face, neck and arms were bandaged, his torso was bandaged and in thick braces. He also had a bandage over his clavicle where his surgery incision was. His left arm was in a sling secured with straps to keep his shoulder immobile. 

When he saw Ho-pil, he stopped shouting. But he was still yelling. Ho-pil winced. “Sunbaenim. How’s the queen?”

Ho-pil repeated the two thumbs up that worked with In-yeong. 

Jangmi burst into tears. 

“Should I have moved the car and tried to avoid it? It happened so fast. I should have done something.” 

Ahh shit. Poor Jangmi. Ho-pil pulled out his phone and typed rapidly.  

You did exactly what I would have done if I’d been the one at the wheel. This wouldn’t have happened if that other bastard wasn’t blind drunk. The queen is fine. She has a clavicle fracture like you, but not as bad. And there’s something about her getting the Rhesus injection thing because she has that rare negative blood type and the baby’s a positive. Don’t terrorize your nurses. They’re the ones who’ll give you food and pain meds. 

He showed the screen to Jangmi and the great bull calmed down with every word, and then turned sheepish by the end. 

“I’m sorry, sunbaenim. Thank you. But I still want to apologize to the queen. Can we see the queen?” 

Ho-pil mouthed, “Can you get up?”

“Sure, if you help me.” 

“I’ll help you later. Rest for now. I think Their Majesties will let us know if they want to see--” 

Dong-min pounded on the open door and waved frantically at Ho-pil. “Seonsaengnim, the king wants--”

And then the king himself stepped into the room. 

They all bowed their heads. Not just out of respect. The king looked murderous. For some reason, Ho-pil had a flashback he couldn’t identify because he had never seen the king like this before, but his mind told him the king was dangerous when he looked like this. 

And contrary to Jangmi, the king spoke in quiet, precise syllables that made the hair on Ho-pil’s neck rise. 

“Sub-captain Seok. Captain Jo is already investigating that man.” Ho-pil heard disgust and knew the king wanted to call the man something else. Ho-pil already did in his own head. “He has a lead somewhere else. Now I want information on where that man drank all night. If it was an establishment, the owner, and the staff who served him. If it was a private party, who he was with. Call his employers or his employees.” 

“Ye, Pyeha. His family, too?” 

“We already know his family. Captain Jo sent it in. In any case, I don’t want testimony from anyone who might beg for him not to die.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.”

With a nod toward In-yeong and Jangmi, the king left. 

They waited ten seconds, and then In-yeong and Jangmi asked him what the king said. Ho-pil typed it on his phone and showed it first to In-yeong, and then to Jangmi. 

In-yeong had just looked vindictive. Jangmi spoke their thoughts aloud. Real loud. 

“HOLY SHIT.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A loud, grinding noise and the crash of metal against metal. 

The piercing shatter of glass breaking. The explosive full blast of airbags. Brakes squealing. 

Pain and burning on her eyes, her shoulder, her legs, everywhere. She struggled to part her eyelids but they wouldn’t cooperate beyond a small squint. She couldn’t see Jangmi and In-yeong at all. 

She couldn’t hear anything either. 

Someone was lifting her and she told them to be careful, she was pregnant, but if they heard her she had no idea-- she knew she was speaking but the way she heard herself was different. Was she dead and was it this quiet when you were dead? 

She couldn’t be dead-- she was going to have a baby. And Gon would be devastated. No, no.  

Suddenly, her eyes were open and she saw the car coming again as if to finish the job now that the paramedics had brought her out of the shelter of the car. 

Determined that it wouldn’t get her this time, she struggled against the paramedics and ran with all her might away from them all, away from that car. 

But it still hit her and she felt that gentle and violent rocking again. 

It made her ill. 

Suddenly, she realized she really was throwing up over a basin. Her eyes were really open. When she was done, she could see beyond the basin and her sheets. Cream sheets and blankets now being gently and efficiently changed around her by court maids in their familiar uniform. Leaf green walls and cream paneling and a big glass window showing the dimming light of sunset. 

She was in a hospital room, not a highway full of stopped traffic and one murderous car. 

Something cool and comforting was being pressed against the right side of her face. Comforting in contrast to the dull ache she felt in her legs and feet, her shoulder, her face. Everything hurt. 

Gon was beside her. He was the one holding the basin and the towel against her cheek. When he saw she was really done being sick, he passed the basin to a court maid, wiped Tae-eul’s mouth with the towel, and offered her a glass of water with a straw. 

Tae-eul sipped water and swallowed it with some difficulty past the sobs building in her chest and throat. She held off as long as she could, but they came out anyway. 

When she woke up this morning, she had cried with relief. She had been so afraid, so sure that she was about to be told she was no longer-- but then she felt the attachments on her belly and saw the fetal monitor and-- she cried with relief. 

Right now, she was crying from residual terror. She had been a detective. She knew what this was. Only, she had known and seen it happen to others. In colleagues, in witnesses, in suspects. 

Now she knew what it was like. And her detective’s brain tried to feed her with facts to ease her anguish. She focused her eyes on the fetal monitor. Her baby was fine. She was fine. She couldn’t hear but she was fine. She was in the hospital. She cracked her collarbone. But she was fine. The car hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t hurt them. 

Gon was real, his arms around her, his hand stroking her hair soothingly, and his breath against her ear. 

The sick feeling in her stomach receded. Her heart slowed down. She clung to Gon’s arm and let herself fall back against him, on the familiar shelter of his shoulder. 

She pressed her lips together to close her mouth and stop crying. There was no need to carry on like this. She looked at Gon, drank him in with her eyes, and let that gaze and that nose and those lips and that jawline blot out the last vestiges of that car from behind her eyelids. 

But it frustrated her that she couldn’t hear his voice. She could feel his chest rumbling softly and his lips moving against her forehead but she heard nothing. 

He brought his face close to hers, gently tilting her chin so she could see him. She focused on his lips as they moved. “You’re all right. I’m here. Are you all right?” 

She nodded and shook her head. “Everything hurts.” 

Gon’s mouth curved down. “I’m sorry. Your medication should take effect soon. Noona gave you another dose some time ago. You’ll be fine.” 

She nodded, raising her right hand to cradle his neck. When he spoke again, she felt it against her palm. “Do you want to tell me about it? What woke you up? Was it the accident?”

She nodded again. “Just… I saw it all over again. And everything I heard then. I wish I could hear something else to push it out of my head.” 

Gon pulled some tissues from the box on her bedside table and gently dabbed at her cheeks, careful not to make contact with her eyes. 

He said, “I could sing to you. Maybe only feeling the vibrations on my throat would make it sound better.”

She caught all that from reading his lips and it made her smile. “Go on.” 

And Gon sang. An English song he’d heard her alternately sing and hum. It was like a lullaby. Soft, comforting, the notes rising and falling in smooth harmony. She could hear the song in her head, and her mind added the tune to Gon’s voice vibrating against her palm, drowning out that awful screech of metal.  

“Moon river, 

wider than a mile, 

I’m crossing you in style some day.”

Her stomach chose that moment to grumble. 

Gon stopped singing and looked at her. “I know I can’t sing as well as you, but that was rude.” 

Tae-eul laughed. 

“Come on. Let’s get you fed. You’ve had nothing but liquid nutrition all day.” 

As if listening for this, another court maid came in and laid a tray on the bed. Then she placed and uncovered a black and gold ceramic dosirak on top of it. Tae-eul smelled kimchi and kalbi and her mouth watered. 

Gon picked up the tray and placed it over her lap. She opened her mouth and he chuckled, taking a little bit of everything into a spoonful and bringing it to her mouth. 

“Good?”

“Really good. Did I lose my phone?”

Gon nodded. “It was on the seat behind Jangmi. Why?”

“Give me your phone.” 

She didn’t even have to navigate much. The file she wanted was on the homescreen. She played it at maximum volume. Nothing. 

She sighed. 

“You remember how it sounds, though, right?” Gon asked. 

Oh, she did. But she wanted to hear it, not remember it. 

She wanted that heartbeat to assure her, distract her, make her feel safe and happy again. And Gon’s voice. She needed his voice, too. 

They both ate the dosirak without talking much, both of them retreating inside their own heads, and then Gon helped her wash her face-- with wipes-- and brush her teeth-- with a basin. 

Maybe her pregnancy-safe painkillers still had narcotic side-effects, or maybe she was just tired out from everything. She drowsily played with Gon’s hand in her lap. 

She decided she couldn’t put it off any longer. “Gon. The driver.” 

He looked at her, and his gaze was still the same whenever he looked at her, but she saw the fury there, the hard and unforgiving glint. 

“Tell me about the driver.” 

He took his hand from hers, navigated his phone, and gave it to her with the document open. 

She scrolled past Yeong’s notes on her condition, on Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s, her heart squeezing at their injuries, and then there he was. His driver’s license. Kim Ae-go, 1977 08 29, Gijang-gun. 

The report had been updated an hour ago with priors. Several counts of DUI and possession, the first one when he was 16. When he was 19, he had crashed his car into a house, killing a cat and her four kittens. The case was settled. When he was 24, he had hit a 15-year-old kid on a bike and the kid was paralyzed from the waist down, but the case was settled. Five years later, he was tried for vehicular manslaughter-- a 17-year-old girl and her 10-year-old sister were killed-- but was acquitted. 

“I can’t believe this.” 

Gon looked at her, that glint in his eyes sharper now. 

“This... this son of a bitch is a menace.” 

Gon blinked. 

“Well, now that he has endangered the bloody queen and the heir, he has no chance of being acquitted, has he? You can even behead him.” She slammed his phone down on the bed. 

Gon stared at her, his eyes flickering between her and the vital signs monitor. 

“What? I suppose we can’t have him beheaded just because I was the one attacked this time. He should have been punished long ago. Just… just get him imprisoned for life. No parole.”

In response, Gon’s hand came to cradle her uninjured cheek, and then he was kissing her, pressing and stroking her lips with his, taking her lower lip in his mouth, pulling on it and teasing it with his tongue. 

Then he just lingered there with their lips brushing while they both breathed each other’s air. His eyes stared into hers, and the glint was still there, but it was a different kind.  

He kissed her again, just a quick but still persistent kiss, and then withdrew. 

He took his phone from where she’d slammed it on her bed covers-- now the silk from the palace-- and typed on it. He showed her the screen. 

I wanted him beheaded. But I suppose life imprisonment is more appropriate so he can properly reflect and pay for his sins. He’s already under lock and key in the hospital. No chance of being acquitted, no. And yes, life with no parole. 

Get better soon, my queen. I missed you. And I love you when you’re bloodthirsty.   

She didn’t quite slam his phone down on the bed again, but it was still close. She felt ridiculous about it and glared at him. 

He was laughing as he pushed the button on her bed.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Gon was shaken, however. He watched Tae-eul asleep in the glow of the lamps, her face golden and beautiful and angelic. Was this Tae-eul’s purpose in his world? Not just a queen but a trap for pests? 

He opened his phone and tapped their favorite audio file almost automatically. The volume was still on the last setting by Tae-eul-- maximum-- and he didn’t lower it. He let it wash over him. 

It sounded like how his heart thundered in his ears that morning-- just that morning-- when Yeong told him Tae-eul had been in a car crash.  

It also sounded like a drum roll before an announcement. What would he announce? That the queen was taking a leave of absence? Could he send her--ask her--to stay in the republic and hope she was safe there?  

He grimaced at the stupidity and futility of that thought. 

His phone buzzed in his hand. It was Yeong. 

“Pyeha. I’m coming to your room and I’ll stay with the queen.”

“Why?”

“He’s awake. He remembers everything. And the Minister of Finance is here.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ok-nam saw the sickle moon again in her dream. And just like before, it turned into a brilliant sun. 

She didn't know why that thrilled her and assured her but it did. 

She was just about to happily sink further in her dream and sleep when she felt herself being pulled to wakefulness. 

It was the phone. She answered it and heard the king’s voice just as what happened that day hit her.  

"How are you? Have they told you everything?" 

"Pyeha. How is the queen?" 

"Better. She's fine. They're both fine." Ok-nam sighed. "Lady Noh. Should one punish severely or well?" 

Ok-nam didn’t even have to think about it. “Do both. Always.” She dipped her head with emphasis even though the king, her little boy, couldn’t see her. “This is how you make things right. This is how you inspire other people to also always make things right.” 

“Hmm. You and your punishments that involve three generations.” 

Ok-nam raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t really do that! You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you.” 

---------------------------------------------------------------

The Minister of Finance was prostrate before the king. 

This day was just full of surprises. Ho-pil had just arrived back at the hospital to make a report to the king when Captain Jo asked him to escort the minister to VIP 5. Ho-pil balked at that, disgusted that the minister and his asshole son were in the VIP wing right alongside the queen, but Yeong told him the entire VIP wing was currently occupied by the Royal Court. 

True to the Captain’s word, VIP 5 was empty. 

It seemed to be under renovation. Bare walls. With the minister prostrating on the bare floor. 

“Pyeha, I beg your forgiveness. I am horrified at what has occurred. At what my son did. My entire family deserves to die.” 

The minister was a spry seventy-four year old that Ho-pil had admired. But the man had aged since Ho-pil had last seen him. He felt almost sorry that the son’s sins were being visited on the father. Almost. Because the father had sins himself, didn’t he? 

The king, standing tall with the minister at his feet, spoke in his quiet way. No fury this time, but it still made Ho-pil swear he’d never do anything to warrant the king speaking to him in that tone. 

“I am not going to make accusations, Minister. But your son has been endangering people for more than two decades. He has even killed two girls. He was acquitted. With his priors, the acquittal seems impossible until one looks at the family he belongs to.  

“What do you hope to obtain?” 

“Our lives. We deserve to die but please let my family live, Pyeha. I will accept all other punishments I deserve.” 

The king replied without pause. “So be it. You are henceforth stripped of your title and ministership. You and your wife are banished from Corea. Your son will be tried and imprisoned the maximum sentence. As I’m the sovereign justice, and this time the case is right before my eyes and I hope I’m no longer an inadequate teenaged monarch, I can assure you your son will die in incarceration. Is that to your satisfaction?” 

The minister lowered his head further on the floor. “Pyeha-- my parents-- they’re the ones who coddled the boy. I humbly suggest the punishment extend to them.” 

“Very well. I trust your word. They will join you in exile. None of you are allowed to set foot in the kingdom. Not even to die here.” 

“Thank you for your mercy. Thank you for sparing my children and grandchildren, Pyeha.” 

If the father impressed Ho-pil, the son disgusted him. 

The king didn’t even bother to speak to the gibbering man. What a fucking cockroach, begging for forgiveness without acknowledging his actions. The king entered his room, looked at him, and just seemed to tune him out when he began talking.  

And when Ho-pil told the king that the cockroach had thrashed the server who had confiscated his car keys, Ho-pil saw the king’s hand clench at his side. 

Ho-pil was sure that if the Four Tiger Sword had been at the king’s hip in its scabbard, he would have slit the man’s throat. 

But aside from that small movement anyone untrained would have missed, the king didn’t even flinch as they left the room. 

“Add that to his charges. And place the server in protective custody. I think Captain Jo already made contact with the family of the girls and they’re under our protection as well. Cut off all communication channels of the Kim family until and after the four senior Kims are exiled.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.” His investigation had told him as much. The old Kim patriarch had a long reach without having to step outside his villa. It was just unlucky for the old man he was now standing toe to toe with the king. 

“Sub-captain Seok, please inform Secretary Mo that if there are other cases like this that have escaped my notice, I want them all at my desk by Friday next.” 

Ho-pil stood tall and took immense pride in saying, “Ye, Pyeha.”

----------------------------------------------------------------

The guards at the door of VIP 7 were instead standing near VIP 6. Gon heard the din of raised voices as he stepped past them. The guards had stepped away so they wouldn’t hear. What on earth--

As he stopped at the door, he heard Tae-eul’s voice clearly, and it stunned him because for a moment, he thought she was talking to him. 

“And do you think the republic has force fields that prevent a car crash? I could have a car accident there, too.” 

Then Yeong spoke. “What if you had died? What if the baby--”

“Don’t think that. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose--” 

“Are you going to look at death every day? I thought it was over.” 

“Why do you always make me talk in cliches? We do look at death every day. Anything can happen to anyone at any time.” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it. You were used today to finally catch that man. You saw his records. Once he slammed into YOUR car, there was no hope for him. His entire family’s power gone just like that because he happened to crash into the queen this time. That was unnecessary. That was senseless. The king would have caught on to him sooner or later. But look what happened. And because you and I both know you’ve been put here on purpose, aren’t you a little suspicious? Aren’t you even a little afraid?” 

“Of course I’m afraid. I’m terrified. But there are things you fight and stay for even when you’re afraid. You know that.” 

Gon had felt his stomach drop at Yeong’s words, and then Tae-eul’s just knocked the wind out of him. Yeong didn’t answer, so Gon opened the door. He found them on opposite ends of the room, Tae-eul in bed and Yeong standing at the window. 

Both of them looked impassive, although Tae-eul’s visible cheek was flushed. 

“Did I interrupt something?”

Yeong said, “No.” Tae-eul just sighed. 

Gon knew that no matter how tenacious she was, what Yeong said had bothered her. Of course, it would. 

To his surprise, Yeong spoke up. 

"I'm worried about you. Both of you. If something happens to either of you, I'm the one who'll be left with the pieces. I’m meant to protect you. Why else do I remember everything? But how can I protect you from something like this? I’m powerless and useless.” 

Gon took a deep breath and spoke of the realization that had come to him between his call to Lady Noh and his audience with the ex-minister. “Something or someone else will prove powerful and useful then, Yeong-ah.” 

Yeong scowled at him.  

“It’s a balance. How do you think I felt this morning? I was king but what good was that when Tae-eul was in a car crash? But that car proved powerful and useful. Jangmi’s defensive driving ended up powerless and useless but that car protected them, didn’t it?” 

Yeong turned his head to the side, his gesture of thinking over what Gon said. 

“I was thinking like you earlier. It crossed my mind that maybe I could ask her to stay in the republic. But like she told you, that didn’t make sense. And when I found out about that man’s family, everything made sense. You said I could have caught on to him sooner or later-- but can you think of any other circumstance where he would have been trapped so cleanly without escape?” 

Yeong scowled and sighed. Tae-eul said, “I think that’s the longest he explained something without a math reference, don’t you?”  

Yeong sighed again, but this one sounded amused, and the look he gave Tae-eul was full of exasperation. Something Gon was familiar with because it had been directed at him for dec--

Gon snapped his head to Tae-eul. “You heard me?” 

Tae-eul grinned and tapped her right ear. “Loud and clear. Ever since Yeong came in and woke me up.”

“I didn’t wake you up. You were already awake.”

“What about your left ear?” 

“Still fuzzy. I think because it got the brunt from all the airbags and the… the crash.”

“It will come back. I’m glad you can hear again.” 

“Me, too. Give me your phone.” 

Gon smiled, moving eagerly toward her, and Yeong did the same, toward the door. “I’ll see myself out. I don’t like being in the room when you two start smiling like that.” 

Gon clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. Live for today.” 

Yeong just gave him a side-eye. “Tell yourself that, too.” 

Gon nodded. “I do. Everyday.” 

------------------------------------------------------------

Tae-eul watched the two best friends exchange words--too soft for her to hear-- before Yeong made it out the door. When she was out of here, she was going to send Yeong and Seung-ah to Jeju or Pyeongchang so he could decompress. 

Maybe they could all go as a treat to the entire guard while Jangmi and In-yeong were recovering. 

Gon gave her his phone, kissed her, and then retreated to the en suite. She heard him at the sink, brushing his teeth, the clink of the water glass against the counter, and then the gentle thump and soft buzz of his luggage as he opened zips and probably got his pajamas. 

There was the faint noise of the shower door sliding on its track, once, twice, and then the muffled cascade of the shower running.  

She listened to every little noise. She thought she even heard the soft hum of his electric razor. Even the soft slap of his hands as he applied aftershave. It made her smile.  

And then she heard the shift of the sound of his footsteps from tile to carpet, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her from the side of the bed. 

“I thought you’d have it in full volume but I came out to absolute quiet.” 

Tae-eul snorted. “You don’t know absolute quiet. And I was waiting for you.”

He smiled and helped her move on the semi-double bed to make space for him. It might be a VIP room but the bed still couldn’t be too big to hinder patient treatment. She made sure the space was big enough for Gon to lie on his back rather than on his side all night. 

He laid down on his side, however, with his arm over her waist and under her sling, kissing her temple and her cheek. 

She squeezed his arm with her left and then she tapped play on their favorite audio file. 

Tae-eul closed her eyes and listened to it. Then she remembered Gon dancing to this and giggled. She turned the volume loud and then softer, and the little bean’s heartbeat remained steady and strong. 

This was what she’d wanted to hear all day, what she’d known she would hear soon when she’d heard the soft click of the door after Yeong had entered and it latched closed. 

So when Yeong had seen she was awake and started talking about his fears, she had been calm and peaceful, with her faith a solid presence in her mind and heart, all because she had known she was about to hear this heartbeat again. 

She felt Gon’s thumb swipe at her cheek. “Do you hear any difference?” 

She didn’t open her eyes but she tilted her head a little. Gon’s voice was another thing. “Hmm?”

“This is from today.” 

“What?”

“This is the little bean at fifteen weeks, not at twelve weeks.”

Tae-eul smiled and laughed a little. “Really? I don’t hear any difference, do you?”

“No. It’s like nothing happened.” 

Tae-eul chuckled. “Like nothing happened.” 

___________________________________________

Question/reader reaction to A dark day for Corea: WHY DID I DO THIS?! WHYYY!

Answer: You know that sweet pregnancy trope where they listen to the baby's heartbeat? I wanted it in a flashback in a currently bleak scene. 

And this is what came to me. I did my research and I kept finding things to support what I wanted to do, like the new Mercedes Benz S-class 2021 (to be released in September), the loss of hearing from airbags, and so many other bits. I loved it.

I did drop Corea News ahead so I’d be committed to seeing this through. 

I almost paid for subscription to a medical procedures journal, but I did find specific answers for free. The key is to ask specific questions lol.

If I got anything wrong, forgive me. I could have asked medical people around me, but I’m shy and writing is solitary. 

FACT: Rhesus negative blood is RARE in Asia. There was a sad news item in Korea where a man died because he needed platelets and couldn’t find enough donors. He had B-negative blood. 

All right, let me know what you think. Please drop a line, thank you! :) 

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Thirteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Fluff and smut in this one. Would love to know how you are still liking the story!)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Masterpost

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry took turns staying over at each other’s places more often. You both agreed it was easier for him to stay over on school nights because you needed more things to get ready for work in the morning. So you would stay at his place more on the weekends. You were tired most mornings with him there, but it was a good tired. Your mood at work was overwhelmingly positive, and many people noticed. You couldn’t help it, essentially being given an orgasm every other night of the week did wonders for you. Between the way he would rub you, or go down on you, you were perfectly content with where things were with Harry. He was happy to be given head or a hand job as well.

Harry desperately wanted to be able to touch more of you, to feel more of you, but he knew he would get there with you eventually, and there was really no rush. The awful run in with Jake was slowly slipping from your memory. You truly were feeling like your old self.

Wednesday morning, Niall popped into your office. You were standing at your desk, editing away at a clip a client had sent in. You see Niall and take your headphones out.

“Hey.” He says with a smile.

“Sup?” You’re clearly busy, but don’t want to be rude.

“Are you doin’ anything for Halloween?” Halloween was next weekend, and you hadn’t thought twice about it. You used to love Halloween when you were in college, but not it was less fun when you didn’t have a full weekend of dressing up and binge drinking.

“I don’t think so, why?”

“I’m gonna have a party at my place, just decided last night.”

“Oh fun! Your place really is perfect for a party.”

“I’d like to do some type of costume contest.”

“Hmm, like a couple’s costume contest?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not necessarily, I just think having a contest of some kind will get more people to want to dress up.”

“Definitely, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll have to think of some costume ideas.”

“You and Harry should be Tarzan and Jane.” He starts laughing.

“He would never go for that, but something tells me he’ll be open to some interesting ideas.”

That night when you get home from work, you walk into the delicious smell of a home cooked dinner. Harry has his apron on, and is frying up some tofu and veggies. You walk over to him, and wrap your arms around him.

“Dinner’s almost ready love.”

“Wednesday’s are my favorite. Rest day from the gym, you get off work early, and you cook for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and hang up your jacket. “What are we having?” You ask, sitting at the table.

“Garlic and ginger tofu stirfry.” He says placing a plate in front of you.

“Oh yum! Thank you sweetie.”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiles at you. You both dig in and you can’t help the moan that comes from your mouth. “Good, huh?” He chuckles.

“Mm, very good. God, you are such a good cook.”

“So are you.”

“But you’re better. So...”

“So...”

“Niall told me he’s having a Halloween party next weekend.”

“Yeah, he texted me last night. What should we go as?”

“Yay, so you’re into it?”

“Of course, I love Halloween parties. It’s fun to take pictures of people dressed in what they wish they could wear all the time.”

“Good point. Any ideas for costumes? I want to be creative, but it’s kind of last minute so I don’t know how much time we’ll have to make something.”

“Hmmm, what about like eighties punk rockers. We could wear leather pants and black eyeliner.”

“Are you going to wear a wig?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because eighties rockers had long hair.”

“Not all of ‘em. I won’t wear a wig, but I’d wear everything else.”

“You just want to see my butt in a tight pair of pants.”

“Not true! Although, you would look incredibly sexy.” You swat a hand at him while you shovel more food into your mouth.

“Oh! What if you were like Charlie Brown and I was Peppermint Patty?”

“Isn’t she a lesbian? Wouldn’t really work for a couple’s costume.” He laughs.

“Are we really going to discuss whether or not a comic strip character is a lesbian? And who cares if she is, they’re still good friends, it would be cute.”

“You could be snoopy?”

“How could I possibly dress up as snoopy?” Harry starts to blush.

“Well, you could wear like a white dress, and paint your nose black. You could buy the dog ears, and um, a collar.” He looks down at his food.

“You want me to wear a dog collar?”

“It would be part of the costume.”

“I do have a black choker I could wear…does he wear a black collar or a red collar?”

“I can’t remember, we can look it up.”

“I think I have one in both colors. You know what, this could work, and I think I have a white jumpsuit I could wear. I could wear my white heels, the choker, and you’re right just paint a nose on and buy the ears. You must have black shorts, we could buy a yellow polo and paint a black zig zag on it.”

“This’ll be fun.” Harry loves when you say the word we. It was a word he used to be scared of, but it sounds so good coming from your lips.

That weekend you two go to WalMart to pick out the extra components of your costumes. You buy some black fabric paint, and slip a piece of cardboard inside the shirt. Harry lays down some newspaper for you on his kitchen floor, and watches you intently while you paint the zig zag on the front and back of the yellow shirt.

“Okay, now don’t touch this, and just let it dry, I don’t want it getting smudged.” You hand it to him, and he places it on his desk to lean against the wall.

“Do you like to paint?”

“I do, actually. My Nannie used to paint when she was younger, I actually have some of her art hanging in my apartment.”

“Maybe we could go to one of those like, wine and paint nights at a bar sometime.”

“You’d be into something like that?”

“Sure, Niall and I have actually done it together a couple of times, it’s pretty relaxing.” You burst out laughing.

“You two have the weirdest friendship.” You say wiping tears from his eyes.

“Oi, what’s the difference between two men having a boys night and two girls having a girls night?”

“I suppose not much, it’s just funny to picture you both getting wine drunk and painting. But from your original point, I think it would be a lot of fun if we did that sometime.”

//

You had your period this week, so you couldn’t wait for Halloween to roll around because you knew you’d be done by then. You took out your white jumpsuit. It was cute, low cut with spaghetti straps. You bought it because it had pockets and because it was boot cut. The ones that flared out too much made your legs look weird. You slipped it on, and twirled in your mirror. It really made your butt look great. You left your hair down and straight, and stuck your dog ears on. Then you took out your black choker and your red choker, still not being able to decide which one would make more sense. You didn’t want to look like Brian Griffin, so you went with the black choker. You paint a black nose onto yourself. You slipped your white pumps on, and waited for Harry.

Harry strolled into your place around eight-thirty. He had a pair of black converse on, paired with black shorts, and the yellow shirt you had made for him. His jaw nearly hits the floor when he sees you.

“I didn’t know snoopy could be so sexy.” He says walking over to you. “Is, um, aunt flow still in town?”

“No, she left yesterday.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers like that.”

“I had to really dig them out of my closet. I tried to make the outfit work with my boots, but it just wasn’t happening.” You notice his nails were now black and yellow.

“Can I just say I love that you color coordinated your nails?” You hold his hand looking over the colors.

“Hey, when I commit to something, I commit.” You give him a funny look. “Right, shall we head over?”

“Yup, let me just grab my bag. We’ll go back to your place after, yeah?”

“Works for me.” He smiles, and takes your bag down to the car, checking out your ass in your jumpsuit. “That really is a sexy outfit, (y/n).” You feel your cheeks heat up when he places a hand on your thigh as he drives to Niall’s.

“Thank you, Harry.” You give his hand a little squeeze.

When you get up to Niall’s, the place was already packed. You spot him right away. He had a white t-shirt on that said ‘chill’ on it and you immediately rolled your eyes. You spot Sarah who is wearing a tight red dress that she pinned the word Netflix to. Niall comes over to the greet you, and to take the bottle of wine you brought.

“Glad you guys could make it.” He looks you both up and down. “Charlie Brown and Snoopy? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you are unoriginal, mate.” Harry grabs your hand and brings you over to the drink cart to make the two of you drinks. You wave to Sarah who gives you a thumbs up.

You just realized you had never been to a big party with Harry before. Well, you both had been at Niall’s holiday party last year, but you weren’t there together. Nor did the two of your even speak. You remember him slightly talking to a group of girls who were probably all waiting the clock out to see who he would take home with him.

Rachel was there with a girl, who you recognized as the girl she took home from the bar over a month ago. You make eye contact with her, and you both wink at each other. You were so happy your friend groups were merging.

“Oi! It’s the lad himself!” You hear a man with a thicker British accent yell to Harry. Harry whips his head around, and you swear you had never seen him smile quite so big. The man was wearing all yellow and had a picture of Heinz Mustard on his belly. Ketchup probably not too far away.

“Lou!” Harry yells back, and the two practically run into each other’s arms. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here?”

“I drove in for the party, that alright with ya?” The two hug for another second, before Harry turns back to introduce you.

“Babe, this is my mate Louis. Louis, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).” You hold your hand out to shake, and he takes it kindly.

“Nice to meet ya.”

“Same to you. So, did you go to college with Harry and Niall?”

“Yeah we spent some time at uni together. It’s so funny, ya live in the same country with a guy, only a couple of hours away your whole life, and it takes goin’ ‘cross the pond at some random school to meet.”

“And you also decided to stay in the states?”

“Yeah, well the girl I was with at the time convinced me to stay here with her. We broke up eventually, but by that time I had already gone through the process of dual citizenship.”

“Oh I see.”

“Mate, El is here with me tonight, I’m sure she’d love to see ya, let me go grab her.” You see Harry roll his eyes after Louis leaves.

“I fucking hate his girlfriend, her name is Eleanor.”

“Oh, why do you hate her?” You put a hand on his arm to soothe him.

“She just rubs me the wrong way. She hated how close Lou and I were, that’s why he lives like two hours away, because the three of us would hang out all the time. The three of us lived together for a while, and she yanked him right out.” Louis walks over with Eleanor, and yup, she’s ketchup.

“Hi Harry.” She says with what you assume is a fake smile, because he’s giving her one as well. They give each other a small hug.

“Hey El, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).”

“Hi, love, nice to meet ya.” Why were there so many British people in this area? How did they find each other? “Girlfriend! Well, it’s ‘bout damn time, H.” You look up at him and scrunch your nose. You had never heard anyone refer to him like that. 

“Was just waitin’ for the right girl.” He hooks an arm around your waist, and you feel peaceful.

“Harry, come do shots with me like old times. I know Niall has that good tequila.”

“Deal.” The boys go into the kitchen to find shot glasses, leaving you with Eleanor.

“Did ya ever watch Boy Meets World growin’ up?” You make a face at the odd question, but laugh.

“Um, yeah, I loved that show.”

“Right, well, what you’re lookin’ at”, she points to the boys who are clinking two shot glasses together. You already know you’re going to have to uber back to Harry’s later. “is a the real life Cory and Shawn.”

“Which one of us is Topanga?” You giggle.

“Me, of course. I was always the third wheel with them. I met Louis in grad school, and you would think that two boys wouldn’t act like such children around each other.” You didn’t think Harry was close with someone other that Niall. “Jesus, and when the three of them would get together.” She rolls her eyes.

“They seem to really miss each other. It’s good for guys to have friends.”

“Oh I agree, I don’t mind Niall. Harry just never really warmed up to me, and would make things difficult for Lou and I. I know he blames me for why Lou lives so far away, but I got a really good job offer and he wanted to come with me.”

“I get it. My best friend lives outside the city, and it’s hard enough to get together with her only an hour away.” Yes, you still considered Kate to be your best friend, even if you still weren’t talking to her. “It’s a two way street, both people have to make the effort.”

“We invite Harry to visit all the time, but he always say no. I think he would feel like the third wheel, not that that’s possible. Maybe now that he has you, you could convince him to come out for a weekend here and there. We can’t stay with him here because he doesn’t have space for us. And hotels can be so expensive.”

“Sure, I could definitely put a bug in his ear.” You hadn’t been away with Harry yet, you didn’t really want your first weekend away to be with another couple, but you would see how things go.

“Thanks, Jesus, look at them.” You see them laughing as they take another shot. “That’s their third shot you know? We officially no longer exist at this party.” Before you can say anything, Sarah comes up to you with a shot glass for yourself.

“Here, Harry asked me to do one with you.” You take the cold glass from her and tip your head back.

“I love tequila, I’m gonna get more. Eleanor come on, come do a shot.” She sighs, but follows you into the kitchen.

You grab a lime and some salt. You cut up the lime into small sections.

“What are you doin’?” Harry slurs. Wait, Harry is drunk? He never gets drunk.

“I’m gonna do some shooters.”

“Shooters?” He mimics your American accent.

“Yup, give me your hand.” You lick a small spot on the top of his hand, his eyes growing wide at the PDA, and shake some salt on it. You do the same to your own hand. “Okay, so, how it goes is, you lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime.”

Eleanor and Louis do as you did, and you all lick the salt at the same time. You take your shot, and grab the lime immediately to suck on. Harry can’t help but watch as your teeth sink into the fruit and suck the juice. You take it out of your mouth and look at them.

“See, way more fun way to take a shot.”

You start to feel a bit tipsy, and suddenly the music is calling you. You walk away without saying anything to find Sarah and Rachel. The three of you form a little group so you can dance. Niall really did have the perfect layout for a party. There was room to sit or stand around to just chat, and he had the room for dancing. Whatever playlist was on was hitting just right. Some oldies and newer hits was the perfect combination.

Eleanor leaves to use the bathroom, and Niall goes to stand with Louis and Harry, as the boys watch the girls dance.

“I gotta say Harry, she sure knows how to move it.” Louis says.

“Yeah, she sure does. I would have loved to know her in uni, apparently she was quite the party animal.”

“The three of them were.” Niall says, taking a sip of his drink. “Sarah has told me some wild stories. (y/n) apparently is one of the most fun people to party with.”

You move along effortlessly to the beat of the song. You and your friends are laughing and singing along loudly to the music, but no one can really hear you. A lot of other people start dancing, it might as well be a club in here.

“Lou?” Eleanor says after coming back from the bathroom.

“Yeah, love?”

“Come dance with me?”

“You bet, see ya guys out there.” Harry rolls his eyes as Eleanor drags him away.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was comin’?” Harry looks at Niall with a pout.

“Thought he was goin’ to flake. He’ll be around all weekend, don’t worry you two can have some alone time, I’ll make sure of it. Just try to pretend to be happy for him.”

“I am happy for him, I just wish he found any other girl to make him happy.” Niall starts to walk away. “Where you goin’?”

“My girl is out there shakin’ her ass, so you better believe I’m gonna go dance with her, and you should do the same, plenty of guys are watchin’ her.” He points over at you, and it was true. Plenty of people were watching you.

A drunk Harry stumbles over to you, and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your backside. He starts dancing with you, like really dancing with you. He wasn’t the embarrassed man who referred to himself as a giraffe the first time you went dancing with him. You wondered if this was what he was like in college, if he would grind with girls to show them what he had, and bring them home with him. You shake the thought from your head, and move against him in perfect rhythm. He turns your around to face him, his hands slipping down to your butt. You wrap your arms around his neck, and dance on him. He’s dying to know your college stories. You seem like such a good girl, but maybe not, and he wanted to hear all about it.

In a bold move, almost forgetting where you were, you grab hold of his collar, and yank his face down to yours, kissing him. He puts his hands on your face, and pulls you in for a deeper kiss, while your hands go on his hips. Your tongue is instantly in his mouth, and he tastes like tequila. He was so incredibly sexy, and you were extremely turned on. You hadn’t been able to do anything all week with your period in the way. You still pleasured him because you wanted to, but you missed his touch.

“Jesus, look at ‘em go.” Louis nudges Niall, taking a break from the dancing.

“You know, I’ve only ever seen them kiss in public once, and it was nothin’ like that.”

“He’s really into her, huh?”

“He asked her to be his girlfriend three weeks in.”

“Wow, yup, he’s got it bad. Wonder what it is?”

“She’s just…a good person. Instant connection.”

“Good for the lad, he deserves a good woman.”

Harry breaks your kiss, as he remembered where you are. If you were anyone else, he would take you and lead you to the bathroom, press you against the wall, and take you from behind. But he couldn’t do that with you, not yet anyways.  He leaves you to dance with your friends, and you catch him dancing with Louis and Niall. You can’t help but take your phone out and take a quick video of the occasion. You and your friends take selfies and videos of yourselves. You’re still in awe of Harry, having more fun that you had ever seen him have. Louis brought out an exceptional mood in him. It was funny to see the three of them sing along to the same song, wondering what Harry’s singing voice might sound like.

The party slowly dissipated, but not before you and Harry were deemed best costumes. You didn’t win anything, but the bragging rights were nice. You offered to help clean up, but Sarah told you she would help Niall. Harry was in deep conversation with Louis while you went to grab your coats. They were looking at Louis’ phone and snickering like children. You smile and hand Harry his coat.

“Lou, I’m gonna go get settled in the guest room, night Harry.” Eleanor said.

“You’re stayin’ here?”

“Yeah, hotel was too expensive. What are you up to tomorrow, was hoping to just have lunch with the lads.”

“I can definitely do that.” Harry turns to you. “You don’t mind right?”

“Not at all, babe.”

“Just text me tomorrow, mate.” The two hug, and Harry hooks an arm around your waist. “Oi, Niall!” Harry yells.

“What?” He yells from the kitchen.

“Great party mate, I’ll be by tomorrow.”

The cold air on the street slaps the two of you in the face.  You take your phone out to order an uber as Harry holds you from behind, humming into your hair. You had never seen him quite so drunk before. Usually you were the one that was drunk while he was perfectly fine. You were still buzzed, but you were nowhere near where he was. You lost count of how many shots he had actually taken. You just knew he consumed a lot of tequila.

The uber pulls up pretty quickly, and you both climb in. You keep an arm around Harry, and he rests his head against your shoulder, still humming some song you can’t quite make out. You key into his apartment, and immediately take your shoes off. He watches you walk into the bathroom. You really needed to pee, and you needed to wash off that black make up on your nose. You take your dog ears off, but leave everything else on. He’s by the sink drinking some water when you return.

“Didja have fun tonight baby?” He asks you, guzzling down the water.

“Yes, babe, don’t drink that so fast, it’ll upset your stomach.”

“Aw, are ya gonna take care of me tonight?” He says in the sweetest voice. “Treat me like your l’il baby?”

“Do you want to be treated like a baby?” You raise an eyebrow at his funny words.

“Not particularly.” He slurs. “Did you know that I love babies?”

“Yes, you’ve told me before, remember? You like shooting maternity photos for people.”

“You know, I really do.”

“I’m glad you had fun tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so much.”

“S’not true.” He pouts. “You make me laugh all the time.”

“It’s okay, Harry. I have fun with my friends when we haven’t seen each other in a while too. You and Louis looked like you were having a great time.”

“We were, he’s really my best mate. Niall is too, the three of us are like the three amigos.”

“So I saw. It was funny watching you three dance together.”

“It was just like being in uni again. Everyone always wanted to come to our parties, we threw the best parties (y/n).”

“I believe it.”

“Are you mad?”

“What? No, of course not, why would I be?”

“Because I drank a lot more than I should have. I was supposed to get ya home.”

“But you did, the uber was just fine.”

“Let’s go sit on the couch, yeah?” He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you towards the couch. Before you can sit down he looks you up down. “Where’d ya nose go?”

“Washed it off.” You shrugged.

“This is such a sexy outfit, have I told ya that yet tonight?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You giggle. “But it’s always nice to hear.” He pulls you close to him, and pats your bum.

“You have the best ass I have ever seen, have I ever told you that?” You feel your cheeks flush. He was starting to get fresh. You slip your hands to his butt to mimic what he’s doing to you.

“I could say the same about you.” Giving one of his cheeks a little pinch, he jumps back a half inch.

“Oi, if you do that again, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Oh really?”

You start pinching at him again, and he starts to tickle you, making a ghastly laugh come from you. You slap your hand over your mouth, but he pulls it away. You try to tickle him back, and you end up chasing him around his little apartment. He picks you up from behind, swinging you around, making you squeal. He puts you down on the bed, he hops over you and lays on his back, he looks at you and taps his legs. You get the idea and crawl on top of him, straddling his legs.

“I’d like this to come off ya now.” He slips your straps off your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you.”

You lean up, and put your arms through the straps. You push the material down only a little, causing Harry to pout for the millionth time tonight.

“I’m not wearing a bra with this.”

“I know.”

“I like when you take your time with me.”

Harry sits up against the headboard so you can sit on him easier. He brings his mouth to your jaw, and kisses down your neck. He sinks his teeth in where he always does. The skin must be raw there with how often he kisses you in that spot. He licks over it to soothe you, and kisses down your chest. His hands move up to your breasts, and kneads them through the material. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod yes. One hand moves to the back of the jumpsuit, and un zips the small zipper so he can easily tug the material down. Your breasts pop out, and he looks like a kid in candy store. Sloppy wet kisses cover your chest instantly. He sucks on your left breast, and you groan with your head rolling back. He take the piercing between his teeth and he twists it. You roll your hips on him involuntarily.

“You like that?” He coos. You nod your head. “Use your words baby.”

“Yes, I like that.” You say through your teeth, as he continues to suck on your tender nipple. Your hands go straight into his hair and rake over his scalp, causing him to moan while he sucks on you.

“I gotta get his off of ya, please will you let me?”

“Yes, but you have to take yours off too.”

You hope off the bed, and he does the same. You take his shirt off him, and push his shorts down his legs, careful to leave his boxers on. Your jumpsuit falls off, pooling at your feet, and revealing a white lace thong. Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“You, you were wearing this all night?”

“Um, yeah?”

He takes you, and gently bends you over the bed. You rubs a hand over your ass. You half expect him to spank you, but he knows better, he knows you don’t want that. A finger dips into the material, and he plays with it for a moment.

“Your ass looks amazing right now.” You start giggling. “What?”

“I can’t tell if you’re an ass man or a tit man. You seem to really like both.” You say looking back at him.

“If it’s a part of your body, then I like it.” He puts both hands on your ass and kneads your cheeks. “This is just pure perfection.” He leans forward to press himself against you. He’s so hard against you, it makes you push back into him. “(y/n), can we try something different tonight?”

“Harry”, you stand up to face him, taking his hands in yours. This was a dreaded question. Selfishly, you liked things how they were. You knew he wanted to feel every inch of you, but you were still working through things at therapy, and you just couldn’t let him touch you like that yet. You sigh, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry, I’m just not ready for-“ You’re cut off by his hands on your face and his mouth on yours.

“I didn’t mean, doing more. I just had a different position in mind. I’m not ever going to suggest anything more until you say so.” He reassures her.

“Alright, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, first, how would you feel about sitting on my face?” Your eyes nearly pop out. That wasn’t something you did often. Even though his head had been between your legs countless time, sitting on his face just seemed really vulnerable. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. To ride his face, to be so in control of the situation.

“Yeah, we could try that. What was the second?”

“Hm?”

“You said first, what’s the second position?”

“Let’s just try this, and then I’ll bring that up.” He says with a grin.

“Okay, but, let’s turn the lights off.” You point the switch on the wall, and he flicks it off.

“Take your panties off baby.”

You slide the thong off and toss it on the floor. He leaves his boxers on for now. Harry lays on the bed, right next to you. Your breathing felt heavy as you crept your way up to him.

“Don’t be shy, love. You’re so beautiful, I’m dying to see you from this angle.”

With his words of encouragement, you swung your leg over him, and lowered yourself onto his face. You were already dripping for him. The second he started sucking on your nipples you were a goner. Harry started to suck on your clit, and you grabbed at his headboard. You let out a breathless moan at the way he nibbled and sucked on your most sensitive area. You sunk down on him a little, and he moved his mouth to your warm, dripping center. His tongue lapped around you for a moment, but went up inside you so you could ride him. His hands moved to your hips and gently rocked you. You started to move yourself slowly against his face. His little bit of stubble adding the perfect amount of friction. Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him back and forth, riding his tongue. Your moans started to get louder and louder, clutching at the headboard, trying to pinch your legs together, looking for some release. But his hands on your thighs kept your legs open. You didn’t know if it was the different angle, or the fact that you were so in control, but you were feeling amazing. You loved looking down seeing him under you like this. You rocked faster on him, a thumb moving to rub your clit. That’s when you knew you were done for.

“Oh, fuck, Harry! Fuck!” You moaned out, over and over. “I’m goonnnnaaa, ahhh…” You came, hard on his tongue. He slowly sucked on you so you could ride your high out. He lifted you off of him, and he wipes his face. His chest was heaving up and down, and slowly he steadied it. He looked up at you and smiled.

“That was so hot, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it felt incredible. So, um…” You knew you weren’t done with him yet. “What was the other position?”

“Eager?”

“Curious.”

“I want to do that to you, while you do it to me.” You furrow your eyebrows for a second, putting two and two together. A slight squeak leaving your mouth.

“Are you asking me to 69?” He nods at you.

“Would you feel comfortable with that?”

“Well, would you have to eat me out…like from behind?”

“Yup.” He’s so comfortable with it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have your ass in his face like that. You also didn’t want him accidentally licking your asshole or something. “If you don’t want to it’s okay, I just thought it might be fun to do that at the same time.”

“Well, we can try, and if I feel weird we’ll stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You reach down and tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips up so you can bring them down his legs, tossing them aside. You wanted him in your mouth, that wasn’t the problem. You also didn’t want to be that close to his asshole either. He probably didn’t care because he was still intoxicated. You stare at his dick, it is absolutely throbbing for you, this snaps you out of any concern.

“Right, so it’s a little easier if we both lay on our side.” Confirmation that he’s done this before, wonderful. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you know he didn’t mean anything by the comment.

You lay on your left side, eyeing his dick that has begun to leak at the tip. You feel him move between your legs, as you stroke your thumb over his tip. His mouth is on you again, and you moan out that different sensation you’re getting from having him lick you from the opposite direction. You put on hand on his hip, and the other on his dick. You start out with just the tip in your mouth while your hand worked his base. You feel Harry groan into you, causing you to moan with him in your mouth. You had never done something quite so erotic. He licked you quicker and quicker, as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your mouth. He rocks his hips into you as you do to him, you’re way more turned on than you thought you’d be. His chin is rubbing against your clit as his tongue goes back inside you.

“Ahh, shit!” You say with him in your mouth, taking him deeper. You feel him hit the back of your throat as he rocks into you, and you choke on him for a second. He stops to see if you’re alright. “Fuck, don’t stop Harry!” You say pumping just for a moment before wrapping your swollen lips around him again.

You felt your stomach tighten and you knew your release was coming. You could feel tears streaming down your cheeks from having his cock so deep down your throat, but you loved the way he tasted. Neither of you warn each other, just as you’re releasing on his tongue, his hot come comes shooting to the back of your throat. You take as much of it into your mouth as you can, but you need to moan out from your high. You cough up some of his come back on his dick, and you try to catch your breath. Harry turns his body so he’s fully laying on his back. You swallow what you can of the come that’s still in your mouth. You feel him yank at your arm, and he pulls you up, so you’re lying on his chest. He’s stroking your hair, trying to steady his breathing. His chest is laced with sweat.

“How, how did you like that?”

“It was different. But it felt amazing. I love the way it feels when you’re do that and you moan into me, it’s so hot Harry.” He moves to kiss you but you back away. “I should really go rinse my mouth out first.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” His pupils are still blown out. You look at his dick, it’s twitching, could it really be getting hard again? “Lemme kiss ya.”

“Please, I just want to rinse my mouth out, hold on a sec.” You quickly go to the bathroom, and rinse your mouth out. You’re back to the bed quick, just like you said. “See? Okay, now I’ll kiss you.”

You lean down and kiss him, slightly tasting yourself on his lips, but it’s not a big deal. He sucks on your bottom lip, biting it pretty good, and you groan. Your hands are in his hair in seconds, pulling at it. He wraps his arms around you, and pulls you on top of him. You keep your lower half hovering over him, not wanting to make contact.

“Please, I’m so hard again, please touch me.” He says against your lips.

“I thought when guys drank like this they had a hard time getting it up.” You say taking him into your small hand, giving him slow pumps.

“It has the opposite effect on me, god that feels good.”

You pump him until he’s panting. You loved the sight of his parted lips, and the way his hands grabbed all over your body.

“(y/n), can I please come on your ass?” You’re surprised at him.

“Um, sure.” You squeak.

You get off him quickly and lay on your stomach. He grips himself in one hand, and puts the other on your hip. He pulls you up slightly so your butt is more in the air. You hear him moan out, and it nearly makes you come again. Sensing this, at the sight of you squeezing your legs together, Harry reaches around to rub your clit, careful to only use his thumb.

“Fuck!” You scream out, feeling your third release of the night come at the same you feel his hot come spread all over of your back and butt. You nearly collapse on the mattress. You hear the bed creak, and watch as Harry saunters to the bathroom, coming back with a towel. He wipes you clean, and you turn over, amazed by him and what his simple touch does to you. You know you need to get up to pee, if you don’t you’ll regret it. He puts on a clean pair of boxers, and watches you go into the bathroom. You’re still crazy wet. A mix of you and him. You almost feel bad having to wipe it all away, but no guy will ever be worth having a UTI for.

“Here, wanna wear my shirt? You always look so cute in my clothes.” He coos, holding up a t-shirt. You happily take it and put it on. You get back on the bed with him, and he hugs you close to his bare chest. “You did so good baby, so good. You were amazing.” He rubs your back. You loved the way he always tried to make you feel better. It’s not like you were having BDSM, it’s not like he slapped you around. It wasn’t like you needed time to come back to him. But he knew you were always after doing something new or different.

“It was really nice, Harry. A good suggestion.” You snuggle into him, and he puts the comforter over the both of you. “Thank you for always being so nice to me.” You knew he’d be rougher with you if you let him. You knew if you said the word, you’d let him raw you over his desk. That was the thing with him though. He always asked for permission, and he didn’t do anything unless you said so.