#me and my highschool sweetheart were in all the same classes we used to hold hands for HOURS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

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push and pulls | ot7

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | requested | headcannon (paragraph form) ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: anon ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡᴀs: “cat and dog relationship with classmate!enhypen ? hehe headcannon or any format that you're comfy with :3 they could be highschool sweethearts in the end too 😭” ↬ ᴀ/ɴ:

i tried i'm sorry if this sucks 🤧

jake and jay’s are are like semi-suggestive (i think?) imma just say that they are semi-suggestive to be safe

i aint gonna lie i’m a sucker for Jay cooking 😪

jake & hoon’s are kinda short bc it’s like 1 am rn

Heeseung

Heeseung has always been good at everything no matter what it is. It isn’t to discredit any of his effort whatsoever, but as the school year continues everyone knows that things are just natural for Heeseung. Ever since your freshman year of high school, you’ve seen him as your main competition for 1st place in school. The problem? This man isn’t even aware of it. To you, he just breathes and wins the competitions, gets all the attention, and is at the top of everything. To him, it’s the only way you’ll even notice him. The competitions? It gives him a chance to stay after school to be with you. The attention? He’s only focused on yours. Him at the top of everything? Well, that one’s just because he’s Lee Heeseung. It’s after school one day and the both of you have stayed to help clean up the classes for extra credit. Like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances, his eyes drift to you whenever you don’t notice. Except for this one time.

“Stop looking at me!” you say, your eyes glaring at him. He’s taken aback as he never meant to offend you.

“Sorry,” he said, thinking that you’d just leave it at that. But instead,

“I know you’re fricking judging me Lee Heeseung.”

“What?”

“I can feel it in your eyes. I’ll always be second to you and I get it, you don’t need to rub it in, so just stop!” You throw the rag at the window, walking out of the classroom and he’s left alone wondering what the hell just happened. And suddenly the gap between first place and second begins to grow. To him, staying after school to study for competitions are no longer fun when you won’t even tell him to be quiet when he starts to sing. Your attention is gone just like his sanity. Being at the top never felt so lonely when you weren’t next to him. To you, staying after school becomes something you dread because of the silence in the room that you caused. Your attention seems as if it’s on everything but him but every day you have a hundred thoughts and all of them are infected with him. The two of you enter yet another school competition, making it to the top 3. Yet, unlike previous times, neither of you is in first place.

“In first place, we have Sim Jaeyun!” the announcer says. You and Heeseung look at each other in shock that the other wasn’t on the podium. Yet, you couldn’t care less. Because not getting first place causes you to go off on a rant that Heeseung joins in on. Staying after school turns into study partners at the nearby cafe which becomes study dates. Both of your attention is openly on the other. And while you’re both at the top academically, you become the couple goals everyone wishes they could achieve.

“ace of my heart 💞” you caption an Instagram post of a picture of Heeseung.

rest of the boys under the cut!

Jay

Culinary class is peaceful for Jay. He has control of everything, knows where the ingredients and cooking tools are, can do something he loves, and did we mention control of everything? As a chef, he learned what you were like the first few weeks of class. You were messy with apple peels next to the lime squeezer, engaging in a way of cooking that you defined as “organized chaos.” You didn’t use measurements, cooked things by eye, and used whatever seasonings felt right. It wasn’t that you were bad at cooking, he actually enjoyed your dishes. But your process was just something he couldn’t stand. And maybe he doesn’t really like you since you accidentally used the last of his honey when making cupcakes but that’s a story for another day. The culinary teacher decided to try something new to promote teamwork and for a week, the class would be in partners and cooking a dish new to both people. And who did Jay just have to end up with? You. As the two of you read the recipe for your first dish which was a dessert of sorts,

“What do you wanna use first, jackfruit or durian?” he asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips,

“Durian, because it looks like you,” you said before making your way to the table where all the ingredients were.

“Inner peace,” he muttered to himself as he watched you walk off. The next day, you were making peach tarts.

“Yah, Jay, look here,” you said as you held up your phone and the peach. In the photo you took, the peach was next to Jay’s face, sort of comparing the two.

“Why’d you take a picture of me?” he asked. He didn’t really mind photos, knowing full well how good he looked but you taking one of him came completely out of the blue. As you glanced up from your phone after hitting post, you were unable to stop your laugh,

“Your hair looks like a peach,” you said with a wink as you went back to cutting the ingredients.

“Do I just, do I just look like food now?” he muttered to himself with a huff.

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind eating you,” you teased. You were smooth, he’d give you that. But, damn, he wanted to make you feel the way you were making him feel right now.

It didn’t take long for you to learn that Jay’s way of teasing made you flustered as hell. If you’d ask him to hand you something, he’d hold it above your head forcing you to have to jump up. It just so happened that he did this once right in front of someone else’s station and as you jumped, you almost knocked into them which led to his arm around you,

“Watch where you’re going,” he warned with a teasing edge as he handed you the carrots.

When you handed him something, he’d take it in a way that his hand held yours for a second but that second was enough. As the two of you cooked together, you entered your own world with no one else but the other in it. He was patient with your organized chaos, his own habits finding a place alongside your cooking routine. For the last day of working as partners, you two were to bake cookies. You put in a pinch of salt then some sugar when suddenly,

“YAH!” you hear from next to you. Met with Jay’s wide eyes as he looked in the bowl where you put the salt and sugar,

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I told you to taste the salt and sugar before you used it.”

“The first one tasted like salt so I put more of the second one.” He took a pinch of the sugar already in the mixing bowl then tasted it, a disgusted look appearing on his face”

“You put salt then more salt, good job y/n.”

“Huh?” He took another pinch then brought it up to your lips and as you tasted it,

“Why the hell is there two kinds of salt here!”

“One’s fine, the other’s coarse. I wanted to eat these y’know.”

“Fine, head over to my place after school and we can make cookies together.”

“That’s not funny. You can’t mess with cookies,” he muttered.

“Who said I was joking? We can even drizzle honey over it.”

Jake

Perfection doesn’t even begin to describe Sim Jaeyun. A gentleman, kind, smart, has an accent that you can’t help but sometimes tease him about, and obsessed with Layla were all things you couldn’t fault him for. But sometimes, just sometimes, he could be a little too nice. You couldn’t help but feel jealous at the sight of the girl chatting with Jake by the benches and her feeling his arm up.

“Geez, tell her to go away!” you wanted to say to him as you started walking towards them.

“Hey,” Jake said with a smile as his eyes landed on you. The same smile he smiled at her with.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked, trying not to sound pissed but couldn’t help yourself.

“Yeah hold up.” Jake looked at the girl, “Just text if you need help with anything else on the homework,” he said before walking off with you.

“Who was that?” you asked as the two of you made your way to the cafeteria.

“New girl, needs help with physics so she asked me for help.” Jake was supposed to help you with physics.

“You gonna help her on Tuesdays?” you asked, referring to the day Jake always helped you. If he did notice your jealousy, he didn’t say anything about it. Oh, but he did notice. And he kind of wanted to edge it on to see how far things would go.

“Should I? She can hangout with me and Layla.”

“See if she likes me better than Layla.”

“Might take you up on the offer, watch your words, y/n,” he said with a chuckle.

“Yeah? You introduce her to Layla and I’ll divorce you then take full custody.”

“I didn’t know we were married, don’t we gotta go out on a date first?”

“I don’t know, do we?”

“Let’s do it right now then.”

“Fine! Wait what-?”

Sunghoon

On the ice, you and Sunghoon went together like sugar and tea. Off the ice, you two were like the coarse salt that ruined the cookies in Jay’s fic. You and Sunghoon skated well together, putting on a performance that typically got you first place, but that’s exactly what it was. A performance. An act. Nothing more, nothing less. Neither of you talked when you saw each other after practice the next day at school. Neither of you actively told anyone that you knew each other more than most couples did. But there was just something about talking to Sunghoon outside of ice skating, acknowledging that there you had an ice skating persona as well as the persona you showed to everyone else, that frightened you. So both of you made an unspoken agreement that you’d keep your ice skater lives in the rink and outside of it. Except for right now where the transfer student who coincidentally just so happened to be an ice skater and was wondering if you’d be his partner for the upcoming showcase.

“Y/n already has a partner,” Sunghoon said, cutting in as he stood next to you. The transfer student’s eyes settled on Sunghoon,

“You’re Park Sunghoon, the guy who-”

“Almost made it into the Olympics? Yeah. And y/n and I are gonna do it together this year.” You weren’t quite sure how to feel about Sunghoon suddenly “claiming” you (not in a toxic way whatsoever, we don’t condone that here). But you did know that this meant Sunghoon knew of your existence outside of the rink.

“Says who?” you said, trying to see how this would go. He looked at you, fear flashing in his eyes at the thought of the two of you not doing this together.

“I thought, I thought we were? Are we not? We have our outfits planned and everything.”

“I mean… plans change, Hoon.” That nickname, the one only you were allowed to use for him.

“Do you not wanna do it together?”

“I’m just gonna… go,” the transfer student said.

“I do wanna do it together.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“We kinda don’t have a relationship outside of the rink, Hoon.”

“We can make one, then. Right now.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Sunoo

You’ve always held a level of jealousy towards Sunoo. Sunoo has always been the guy who’s everyone’s friend even if he’s popular, the type of guy who waves at everyone, greets them with a smile on their face, and gets people to attend class/school events. Whereas you’re more on the introverted side, not really liking people. When it’s lunchtime, you tend to eat alone not really giving a damn about everyone else. You’re not exactly an outcast, just more comfortable by yourself. You’ve always been jealous of how Sunoo’s open to people, talkative, and just overall likable. Because unlike him, people think you’re being mean when you’re quiet and it looks like you’re not listening to whatever it is they’re saying. Around school, Sunoo has earned the nickname Sunny while you’ve been given the nickname Winter. Everyone sees how you walk away whenever Sunoo waves at you in the halls. Everyone is aware of how you scoff whenever Sunoo does aegyo in front of you. Everyone notices how you get mad whenever he links his arm with yours. But it’s Sunoo who sees the glint in your eyes the second they meet his by your locker. It’s Sunoo who notices the slight smile that plays at the corner of your lips whenever he calls himself “ddeonu.” And it’s Sunoo who’s aware that no matter how much you protest when your arms link, you’re never the one to let go first. So he sits at the desk in front of yours during lunch, chatting his butt off about his day while stealing bites of your lunch. He gives you face masks with the excuse of “it was a buy one get one free deal and I don’t know who else to give it to.” He asks if he can style your hair playing it off as “practice.” Little by little, you begin to open up. When you see him in the halls, you start to give him a smile reserved only for him. When he does aegyo you tease him by saying that Jake does it better. And when he links his arms with yours, your pinkies intertwine. You bring an extra bag of chips for lunch and start making your portions larger to share with him. You invite him to the mall since you saw an online promo while walking by. You start to enjoy the way he plays with your hair, sometimes even craving his touch. Because we all know, the sun has its way of melting ice.

Jungwon

Yang Jungwon, the class president, has a 100% success rate in getting field trip forms submitted on time. Well, it would be 100% if it weren’t for you. It seems as if you’ve made it your life’s mission to do everything and anything that’ll piss off Jungwon. Every time there’s a permission slip that needs to get signed, he constantly finds himself having to remind you of it so that it’d get turned in on time. Yet despite this, you always turn it in a day later. When things are kind of slow in class, you’re always talking to someone and have earned the title of the chatty kid no matter where the teacher makes you sit. Jungwon has no clue how someone as big of a procrastinator as you, always chatting with people when you don’t need to, and has your music playing so loud that everyone else hears, gets the good grades that you do. But regardless of what you do, you don’t bring down the class average so he’ll give you that. It’s time for a new seating arrangement and where does the teacher have you sit? Right next to him. So he’s dreading it, knowing that for the next 2 weeks he won’t get any work done, have to deal with you chatting to everyone, and has to be the one to catch you up when you enter class late.

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you settle in the seat next to his. He likes your smile, he won’t lie. But you’re annoying as hell. One week goes by as a back and forth of you constantly making efforts to get on Jungwon’s nerves but he returns the favor while teasing you back. With the two of you as partners, he starts to notice some things about you. Things like how you play with your thumb before raising your hand to answer the question. He sees that your notes are full of rushed scribbles and you dot your i’s close to the center but not just there. Your binder is covered with artwork of things you like and photos of you and your friends. Amidst your chattiness and tardiness, he finds himself looking forwards to certain things. He looks forward to your messy hair as you rush in 15 minutes late and start scribbling your notes in an effort to catch up. He looks forwards to how your conversations become a distraction from lectures. And he wonders to himself, what it’d be like if he were a photo in your binder.

As the second week continues, you start to see things differently with Jungwon. His reminders become less annoying and more useful as you take it in mind. When you’re late, he already has a second copy of the notes waiting for you on your desk. He buys you stickers for your binder using the excuse of “I stole it from my sister.” Before either of you realize it, it’s time for a new seating chart.

“Guess you’re happy to get rid of me, Wonie,” you joke as the two of you stood up to head to your new seats.

“I want you to sit across from me,” you hear him say.

“Huh?”

“At the Eggy Cafe on our first date,” he says before heading to his new seat.

Ni-ki

Dance class, it’s exhausting. Countless hours spent practicing a choreography that only lasts for a few minutes. Constantly getting yelled at by your teacher when you take a wrong step. Continuously in an unspoken competition with the best dancer of the school, Nishimura Riki. Ni-ki fools around during practices, usually to get on your nerves. Whenever you buy bungeoppang at the stall in front of the school, half of it instantly belongs to Ni-ki as he takes a bite when you’re not looking. Whenever the two of you are the only ones who’ve got the choreography down, sometimes you’ll slow things down to piss him off. There’s a flow to Ni-kis dances that no one else can replicate, a flow he was born with and can never be taught. Everyone, including him, is aware of this. But you’ve always been different from everyone else. All his life, he’s been told how good at dancing he is but you criticize him. While the others applaud his performance, your eyes are watching his every move. He almost hates how well you can spot the mistakes he can’t even see on himself. But as time goes on, these little competitions start to develop between you two, even outside of dance. When dance class ends, the two of you race to see who’ll get to the bungeoppang stall first. Last one there pays for bungeoppang. This is the competition you let Ni-ki win, using “I’m already tired from dancing” as an excuse. In the mornings, you compete to get to first period. Loser pays for lunch. This is the competition where there’s a middle ground between you two. Sometimes you win, sometimes he wins, other times you enter class together. When walking home, you compete to get to the bottom of the stairs at the subway station first. Whoever loses has to carry the other’s bag until you get home. Ni-ki lets you win this one, using “If I ran any faster I’d trip,” as an excuse. These small competitions become the things you look forward to throughout the week, enjoying the thrill of small moments with Ni-ki. At one point, the two of you (on separate occasions) talked to Jungwon about the competitions, telling your side. To the both of you, he says the same thing. “Why don’t you see who asks the other out first and plans the better date?”

❦ written by riri (@enhykkul) | blog masterlist

requests are currently open! rules can be found here | anon emojis

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b0rista · 4 years

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— 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄, 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍, & 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐃. ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: language, because i can't form sentences without using "fuck" every other word JDJD.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i only made this modern because i desperately wanted to include marco to the fullest leave me aloneEffsg. gn! reader, and i went pretty lengthy on this one so beneath the cut is where the headcanons start :)

𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓: bearbrickjia on instagram!

by far, the best friend group to have. everyone balances one another out, and it's a perfectly imperfect mesh of teenagers.

there's jean, the group's centerpiece. he's the alpha of the posse, usually working as their own personal line leader whenever they're caught doing something as a group. he'll never admit it, but he's also the dad friend. of course, he's more of a "i wish i never gave birth to you oh my god please leave me alone also i love you" type than the stereotypical dad friend.

there's marco, the glue holding the group together. unsurprisingly, he's the calm, kindhearted support system that balances out the cokeheads, keeping them all sturdy. without a doubt, the group would fall apart without him. they need him, okay!! and by "them," i mean jean and yourself. marco, never change.

following up, there's connie & sasha, the wonder twins. their roles are pretty self explanatory, given their natural rambunctiousness. they're the two that hang out outside of the group the most, for obvious reasons. they're the crackhead siblings that bring life to the group, despite the hot water they typically land the others in. through their antics and their comic relief, they're irreplaceable. still, it's easy to want to strangle them sometimes.

next, there's you! because you're the reader, i won't name any specifics, but you're greatly cherished. you mark your place in the crew through various ways, having a unique relationship with each and every member. when he's in need of a breather outside of his typical nest (AKA marco), jean hits your line. if you're needing any kind of assistance with literally anything ever, marco's there to help. craving some chaos? bitch, connie & sasha have GOT YOU.

the main hangout spot is jean's house, 100%. not only has his mom practically adopted the whole squad, but there's only two people living there, so it isn't crowded. connie banned literally all four of you from his place, lmao. there was too many people there, and his family lives to humiliate him.

the group has this one policy, set down by yourself and jean: four piece maximum. this is directed solely towards sasha, of course, considering her tendency to raid her friends' fridges entirely of any food. if she's ever caught rummaging through a fridge for longer than necessary, it's the home owner's duty to shout, "four piece minimum!"

^ it never fails to startle her 😭. one time, she hit her head so hard on the fridge ceiling at jean's house she had to use a bag of frozen peas to soothe the swelling.

then, she proceeded to eat the thawed out peas. jean gagged.

the inside jokes? endless. all it takes is one word from a single event, and the five of you are losing your shit. it's cute, to be honest, how overzealous you all get from a single instance from months ago.

"ha. heh. hee."

"what is it?"

"ngGhh,, chEDDAR TIDDIES-"

"AHHHHHAGAGSHHDJF-"

if there are any inside jokes formed between two group members that isn't shared with the rest of them, there will be immediate bitterness. one time, you and sasha were giggling to yourselves over some druggie named jerry who'd tried selling baskets of rotten cherries to the two of you during a gas station haul— the boys were not having it. what the fuck were you doing without them, "friends"?

right before starting your guys' senior year of highschool, the five of you were on a group facetime when you all sent your schedules into group chat. due to the scarceness of your soon-to-be-majors, absolutely none of you had any classes together. you had a single lunch period with connie while marco had one with jean, but that was about it. it was,, a dramatic discovery. sasha fucking screamed.

"i have nothing with nobody!"

"calm down, sash-"

"you have lunch with y/n! LUNCH! that's my place, lunch. this is despicable, this is evil, this is a braus hate crime-"

yeah, she didn't take it that well. it's okay, doe. the four of you made a special effort during your passing periods, giving sasha enough of a fix for her to make it through each and every day.

it isn't like the five of you don't hang out outside of the classroom, either!! if you hadn't already made plans during that week, the weekend is where you absolutely thrive as a group. study sessions that always shift into exclusive house parties, lunches spent at your favorite places, the occasional visit to the movie theater, and so on. with a mini crowd like that, it's hard for any of you to get bored.

jean's hopeless crush on mikasa is a big factor in your friendship. when everyone minus marco (because he's an angel) isn't mercilessly teasing him, you're all trying to actually help the fucker score the girl. from talking him up obnoxiously enough whereas she'll hear, or flat out telling her to give him a chance, it's an actual effort. though, it's unfortunately all to no avail. shawty's too smitten with eren to even consider her options.

^ with that being said, the four of you have to give jean the "there are other fish in the sea" scoop more often than you'd like to admit.

group cuddles. that's that.

because he's the tallest and therfore the longest (probably, depending on your height), everybody has a chosen body part of jean's to latch onto during naps. connie has one leg while you have the other, and sasha keeps her head rested on his shoulder. marco's at the very bottom, entangling his legs in your own. somehow, this is heaven for jean. he'll never admit to it, though. as far as any of you are concerned, he HATES IT.

ranking from #1 as the best and #5 as the worst, these are the rated group therapists: ⇩︎

#1: marco. self explanatory, he's an amazing listener and provides supremely good advice. that, and he'd literally rather die than let any of his friends internalize anything they're dying to let loose.

#2: you. really, you're just a lot better than jean or connie. sasha's okay at it, but she's not the best at rationalizing, leaving you at second best. basically, when marco isn't available, you're where the freak shows go. marco goes to you about things, too.

#3: sasha. again, she's just a loT better than the final two. sasha's a sweetheart! she's empathetic, and nonjudgmental. we love her in this house.

#4: connie. also somewhat of a sweetheart, although not as much as sasha. he'll drop a shit ton of humor into serious conversations, making them just a tad bit more tolerable.

#5: jean. look, he's a great friend! however, he isn't all that empathetic, and he'll have some trouble understanding. still, he would try his hardest to make you or the other three feel better :,)).

in a modern universe, i know damn well connie's a half-assed stoner 30% of the time. he doesn't light up all that often, and he doesn't tell anybody about it, even you guys. mainly because marco will grill him for it DJFK. however, you stumbled upon his mini marijuana stash and he was like ahh, shit. you didn't really care doe, his secret is safe with you. you, however, now have DIRT on him.

matching bracelets that you all made for eachother yEars ago but never wear 🥺🥺.

many, many, many poly relationship jokes. only jokes, though. some people take it too literally, which y'all just laugh at.

there's a miniature rivalry going on between you and another nearby friend group: reiner, bertholdt, annie, ymir, and christa. of course, all of you are friends, it's all fun in games— most of the time, anyway. it's a funny rivalry, and you guys go at it quite a bit.

one of your guys' most intense debates is whether or not marco has freckles on his dick.

he,, refuses to show any of you, or even anSweR you.

"you act like we can't just check whenever we use the urinals, man."

"CONNIE-"

now, marco refuses to go to the bathroom at the same time as any of the boys <\33.

the group band? black eyed peas.

#aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #attack on titan headcanons #aot scenario #aot headcanons #jean kirschtien #marco bodt #connie springer #sasha braus #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk headcanons #snk x reader #jean kirstein #sasha blouse

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yutahoes · 4 years

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Sakura

(Part One)

One

genre : Chaptered, Fluff

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Reader (Y/N)

word count : 1k words

taglist : @ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach @aaasteroidsky @readers-posts @delightfultacobread @bby-kji9 @a-bts-world @mel-yjh @yeolsechanhun @yutazen01

You’ll always be his Sakura.

Weddings.

They were never Yuta’s cup of tea. The idea of getting married scared him. How would you get yourself settled with just one person your whole life? Is it really possible to commit yourself to just one person? Maybe. And that idea definitely scared him.

But this is one wedding that he cannot say no to. A wedding that he must attend even if it meant traveling from Spain to Korea just for a single event. Lee Taeyong’s wedding.

If there’s someone who will haunt him for the rest of his life, that will be Taeyong. It was in fifth grade when he met him in Seoul and they became the best of friends until their college days. He was one of the friends who kept with the communication even if he returned to Japan. He owed a lot to him, his knowledge in Korean, how he adapted well in a foreign country, and the one always next to him whenever he would miss her.

To his surprise, Taeyong is getting married to his highschool sweetheart. How long had that been? They’re still together? That’s amazing. And the idea of falling in love with one person all his life came to him again.

“Yuta.” an older woman called and he recognized her as Taeyong’s mom. She was the person who took good care of him back when he’s still in Korea. “You’re here.” She engulfed him in the warmth of her hug that made the younger giggle. She’s really like his second mom. “I always see you in the news.” she complimented and even introduced him to some of her friends as her second son. “Have you seen Y/N? She’ll be really happy to see you.”

The name brought unwanted memories to Yuta that made his heart tug against his chest. She’s here? But then, why shouldn’t she? It was her who introduced him to Taeyong, the princess of their trio.

As one of the best men at his wedding, he waited in front of the aisle next to the groom who looked fidgety. Yuta laughed at that, Taeyong is always confident. Are weddings always like this? His gaze was focused on the little girls gracing the aisle with flowers for the bride to walk at and when he turned to the next person, the bridesmaid, he felt his heart jump out of his chest. Y/N.

When was the last time he saw her? Seven years ago? His little vacation in Chicago. She looked more mature now. And even if some of her features change, he can still see the little girl who said hello to him on the first day of class back in third grade. His first friend. His sakura. His first love.

She beamed when their eyes met but he just gave her a timid smile. She shouldn’t know that he’s too happy seeing her after all these years. The feeling of being scared came again. But now, he’s scared to fall deeper.

The wedding ceremony is simple but truthfully, Yuta wanted to just leave the place. The only person he knew is Taeyong, his bride, his parents, and Y/N. They’re all busy with their tasks so there’s no one to talk to.

He was surprised to see a young boy walking to where he is, staring at him wide-eyed. “You’re Yuta Nakamoto, right?” the boy asked, making him nod, laughing at how he knew about him. “You’re really cool on TV.” His eyes were twinkling in glee and the older was reminded of someone, her eyes twinkling the same as his. “Eomma was right, she’s friends with you. That’s so cool.”

His mom is friends with him? “Your mom?” he repeated, making the child nod. “Who is your mom?”

The question was answered when Y/N turned to where they are, calling for someone named ‘Jae’. Wait, hold up? She’s a mom now? “Oh. Yuta.” she greeted with a smile. Why do they have to meet like this? In front of her son who was looking at both of them. Who is the father of this child? Her boyfriend in Chicago? “Jae, Taeyong samchon is looking for you.” The young boy nodded, skipping to get inside. “Did Jae bother you? I’m sorry.”

Yuta shook his head. A lot is running in his mind right now. But all of that was easily forgotten when she sat beside him. “I was surprised when I saw you earlier. I thought you’re in Barcelona.” He nodded, reasoning out that it’s a once-in-a-lifetime event in Taeyong’s life and that he doesn’t want to miss it. “Oh. I always see you on the sports channel. You’re pretty cool, Yuta.”

“You hated sports,” he said with a laugh.

The girl had to shyly smile at that. “Johnny does.” So they’re still together. “And Jae liked watching soccer.” So that’s why her son knows about him.

His gaze fell on her fingers, no ring. Are they not married? “You’re still together with Johnny?”

She shook her head. “Not anymore.” The sentence made him look at her. They’re not together? “We had a divorce when Jae was two years old.” Divorce? They got married? How come he doesn’t know any of it before? “I tried writing to you but the letters were always returned to me. Maybe you changed your residence in Osaka.”

“You should have emailed me.”

“I don’t want to bother you.” She smiled at him then stood up. “It was nice seeing you again, Yuta.” He didn’t know what to say and just nodded at her. When she turned her back at him, he left out a heavy sigh. Why isn’t he happy to see her again? Why does he need to know all of this now? And why is he falling deeper?

When he went inside the reception hall, she was talking to Jae and another girl taller than her son. If he thought her son’s eyes resembled hers, he was more amazed at how the girl looks like her. Her daughter? She had two children? There’s no denying that they’re a happy family next to each other. A dream she had always wanted. A dream he thought he could fulfill with her. But it’s too late. She had already reached her dream. Without him.

Weddings.

He had always hated the idea of that before she came. But now, he hated it even more.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Two

And I’m back to making a chaptered AU. I only wrote until the fifth part of this and this doesn’t have an ending yet. But I wanted it to be shorter than Otou-Chan so we’ll see how the story goes and maybe take ideas from your comments and feedback. Once again, thank you for taking time in reading this.

(I didn’t use my Yuta’s angels tag list since this is a chaptered fic and I don’t want to force them in reading every chapter of this. But if you want me to tag you in updates, please feel free to tell me. Thank you.)

#yuta nakamoto #Yuta #nakamoto yuta fluff #yuta fluff #chaptered

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

Text

Plus One | Kevin Moon (Around The World Collab)

When your boyfriend of eight years suddenly decides to break up with you right before your destined trip for your cousin’s wedding, nothing can cure your broken heart. In a desperate attempt to make you feel better, Kevin states that he will be your plus one.

Genre: little angst, fluff, friends to lovers.

This fic is part of a collab “Around The World”, featuring different countries x the boyz members. I had the utmost pleasure of working with such an amazing group of talented writers for this project, so please don’t forget to check out their works too! ^^ <3

This fic is takes place on Mauritius Island.

Word count: 9k IZ A LONG ONE SO BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS

Tagging: @aniyawoos @chaoticdeobi @moondustaeil @juyeonzz @atbzkingdom @2hyunjae @jopping-to-my-kpop @jeongsinkookie @ihearttbz @heartyyjeno @bahnmi07 @sadlandia @itsquxxn

-----------

Eight years, gone just like that.

I stare at a spot on my navy blue suitcase, not really focused on what’s before me and more concerned about the memories flickering past my lids. I can’t help it. Everytime I see luggage, it makes me think of the way I kicked him out of my life. Everytime, a slab of pain will grab my heart between its icy fingers and squeeze it so that I can barely breathe. Everytime, until I feel like I’m drowning inside dark waters without the real desire to swim to the surface.

My psychiatrist told me that it had been for the better. That it had been an obsessive, unhealthy kind of love in the first place. But was it better now that I couldn’t even feel my heart in the hollow space where it’s supposed to be?

“Y/N.”

Still, I remember the messages on his phone, the way his touch would feel strange, eerily hollow for some reason, the way he’d avoid my eyes whenever he’d tell me that he was going out with the guys. I remember smelling his coat and recoiling at the cheap scent of perfume clinging to it like second skin, how he’d constantly tell me how wonderful I was-- too wonderful for him -- and that I should find better, that I didn’t deserve someone like him.

And then, when I’d stumbled into our flat a little earlier than I was meant to -- since my gym class had been cancelled -- and took note of the trail of shoes, followed by a coat, a shirt, a thong, before my ears picked up on the noises echoing from the bedroom doors…

“Y/N?”

His face when he spotted me, the astounded expression like a dog that had just been caught sneaking into the pantry. And the girl, a prettier woman, a curvy woman, with red lips and with those beautifully deep red wine locks tumbling down her back with the perfect physique that could make any man drool. That girl, who was none other than one of my good friends at work and who had spent most part of the year listening to my rants about him.

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” My head whips up when I register my name being called out, looking up to see a raven-haired, petite-faced man leaning against the bedroom doorway with raised brows and a concerned expression on his face.

“Oh, you’re here,” I say, as he crosses the doorway and sits beside me. The bed dips down under his weight as he tilts his head in that knowing manner of his, “daydreaming again?”

“No,” I mumble, but he sees right through my facade and with a sigh, his arms wrap around my shoulder before pillowing his head against my shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs as I allow myself to lean back against him, against his comfort. His lavender scent wraps around me, a little bed of comfort amidst all the pain.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I murmur, tears stinging the corner of my eyes, “it hurts, Kev.”

He only holds me a little closer, a little tighter.

If there is one person that I can trust more than myself, it’s Kevin Moon. I’ve known Kevin ever since high school, having hung out in the same friend group until we had become partners for an art project. It was only then that we’d become closer, and had been close ever since. With his angular features and almond mono lidded eyes and thin lips that were constantly shaped in a pout, the Korean-born man had moved to Canada when he was young, just like I had a few years ago. He had kept me afloat during my university days, I had comforted him through his first break up. He had been present during my final Fine Arts Photography Exhibition, I was up all night coming up with re-branding concepts for his design project. Overall, Kevin had pretty much been a constant in my life, you get the gist of it.

When he found out that my boyfriend had cheated just a few days before our destined trip to attend my cousin’s wedding -- mind you, I had been sobbing waterfalls and it was a miracle he even understood me through my blubbering mess -- he had half a mind to storm up to the guy and rip his throat out. But he did the most surprising thing; booked a ticket for himself and turned up at my flat on the eve of the departure, stating that he was going to accompany me to that wedding, whether I liked it or not.

My cousin, Emma, was getting married right where home was: Mauritius. The memories I once had of the small island nestled right in the Indian Ocean on the right of Madagascar, was of my grandma’s comforting food, the sea scented air that washed along with the too-white sandy beaches, the multitudes of merchants selling all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables on the side of the road, and small corner stores that looked like they had come out of a 1960’s movie. People liked to claim that Mauritius was paradise on earth, and in a way, it is.

“Come on,” Kevin had nagged when I shook my head adamantly. He’d wriggled his plane ticket before my nose, “you’re not going to let that loser spoil such a happy event are you? Emma’s waiting for you!”

In the end, he’d won. Which is why we are here, staying at my cousin, Emma’s, apartment in a village called Moka, located at the foot of a mountain and has an abundance of forestry adorning the sides of the road. It's chilly here, in comparison to the harbourfront, and constantly smells like fresh rain and has a gentle fresh breeze blowing through.

“You know, assholes like him are not worth thinking about,” Kevin says now, his arm a gentle soothing caress up and down my back, “your brain might rot.”

I can’t help but let out a soft, choked up laugh.

“It’s our first day here, let’s not ruin it by thinking about him, hm?” Kevin continues soothingly and I nod in agreement. He’s right. I’m just wasting time by reliving memories that I should be banishing from my mind.

“Okay!” he brightens up then, “where shall we go? The sea? The market? Or do you want to go eat?!”

--------------

The first few days are about meeting up with family and rediscovering Mauritius for what it is. Emma gives me a full-fledged hug the moment I open the door to her house, pressing me close to her with such motherly warmth that it takes everything in me not to break down right then and there. I greet my uncles and engage in small-talk with my aunts, help my grandma out in the kitchen as she continuously asks me why I’ve gotten so thin. While I know the main reason, I decide to smile and spare her the details, as embarrassing as it is.

No one mentions him, until one of my uncles slips during a conversation with Kevin, “so you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. Such a pleasure to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you that we started thinking she was just making things up.”

“Er--” Kevin reddens, “I--”

“So how did you two meet?”

It is at this very instant that my mouth decides to move on its own and I blurt out, “we’re high school friends.”

“Oh highschool sweethearts! How cute!”

Kevin doesn’t fail to mention what a mistake I’ve made to lie to my entire family to save face.

“I feel guilty,” he says as we walk out to the car, keys dangling from my wrist.

I unlock the car, “it’s fine. We’ll be in and out before they know it. They don’t have to know anything.”

“Hm, sure.”

After some well-deserved family time, Kevin and I decide to head to the west of the island to catch the sunset, my camera stuffed neatly in the backseat, where Kevin has tossed a few spare towels just in case. We each have donned our swimsuits for the occasion and it doesn’t take an expert to see the excitement thrumming through Kevin’s veins as he sits beside me like an excited child in the passenger seat.

“I never realized that you guys drive on the left side of the road,” he comments, head whipping back and forth in-between the passage of cars.

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to, especially if you’re crossing,” it is then that I notice that there is a newly built mall as we turn left at the green light, “hey, that’s new. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Cas-ca-velle,” he mumbles out with that strong accent of his. He is definitely not one to know French and I’ve been acting as his translator all along, considering that my family speaks French at home, “what does that mean?”

“Beats me. It’s just a fancy name for a new shopping mall,” I peer into its parking lot, “wanna visit?”

“Whatever floats your boat, honey. I’m all in.”

The mall is longer than it is wide, with white archways decked with wooden-style roofs that give way to an open-plan exterior. A wide beige cemented pathway occupies the space, with shops lined on either side.

“I never realized, but you guys are very multicultural,” comments Kevin as we pass by another family of four chattering quickly in a mixture of French and Creole.

“We’re similar to Canada that way.”

“Do you miss it here?”

My eyes glance over at him, notice the soft empathy in his expression.

“I guess I do sometimes,” I say while I kick at a stray pebble, “It’s like homesickness. But in a way I can’t quite explain,” after a moment, I ask, “do you miss Korea?”

“The food, mostly,” he grins bashfully, “my halmeoni makes a killer gamja tang.”

“Let’s go visit her one day.”

“Is that a promise?” he asks as I shrug, “if you want it to be.”

It’s a little past six when we drive up to the Flic En Flac beach and as we gather our things, my eyes light up upon falling on a nearby roti stand. I quickly slap Kevin’s arm in my bout of excitement.

“Ouch! What? What is it?”

“Kevin, you’re not going to believe this,” I point at the stand in question, “this roti stand? It’s the best roti in Mauritius. Here, take this,” I don’t wait before shoving my bag and camera in his arms, “I’m gonna buy us some. You go and find us a spot on the beach.”

“But--”

I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence before taking off, greeting the merchant who is just about to be wrapping up to ask whether I can get two rotis with ‘cari saumon’ (roughly translated into salmon curry mixed with indian spices), local and freshly made. The smell wafts through the folded paper wrappers as I grab them. They smell just like my childhood, where everything had just been as easy as having rotis by the beach without a care about the future that is to come. It’s nostalgic and I can’t help the smile tugging up my mouth at the thought.

Kevin is already settled atop a pair of spare towels and looks up at the sound of my footsteps approaching. I pass him one of the paper wrappers and he takes a peek, confusion flitting across his face.

“This smells spicy,” he mutters loudly enough for me to hear, “it looks like naan bread.”

“It is,” I agree, “except it’s flatter and more like a crepe.”

Throwing me a hesitant glance, he takes a small bite. I watch his face go from confused to impressed in a few seconds, before his eyes whip up to mine, “woah, this is good.”

“Told you so.”

“But this is really, really good,” he can’t help but marvel at it and laughing, I proceed to dig into my own roti, allowing my mouth to be filled with that salty fish taste melting along my tastebuds, the curry spices giving it the nice tangy kick you wouldn’t find anywhere else. The roti is soft and practically melts on my tongue and I can’t help but moan at how good it is.

“God, this is everything I’ve been looking for my whole life,” I find myself telling him, wrapped up in momentary bliss, “this, this is everything.”

I can feel his eyes on me, so intense that my own flicker up in question. He drops his gaze the moment I do and I frown, confused.

“What?” I can’t help but ask, wondering why he suddenly seems so meek, so shy and awkward, “what is it?”

“Nothing,” he replies like he’s trying to be casual, except that it’s anything but. When he gazes back at me, I notice the warmth in his maroon eyes, more the color of caramel in the dim light from the sunset basking his profile in a golden glow, “I think--I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you so happy, since...”

He doesn’t need to continue, for I know where this is going. Indeed, this is the first time in many months that I haven’t paid any attention to the hole inside my heart.

And it feels good.

“Yeah,” I murmur as I watch the sun settle on the ocean’s horizon, fire kissing water, “I don’t know, I just feel like this is nice. Like it’s right.”

I spare him a glance from the corner of my peripheral and watch him shift. His sleeveless shirt slips, allowing me a glimpse of the naked skin underneath. I quickly look away, slightly embarrassed at the notion of even thinking of him in such a way.

“That’s how you should be, Y/N,” Kevin murmurs back just as softly. It’s almost like talking too loudly will break the sudden spell that has settled over our shoulders. He takes a sip of his beer before continuing, “you’ve suffered enough for someone who deserves nothing but shit for what he’s done.”

There’s a small pause as I digest his words. Then, I manage to murmur out, “thanks, Kevin.”

“No problem.”

Another small bout of silence ensues, covered up by the sound of the ocean roaring up the sand, distant birds chirping in the fading light of the sunset drowning into the now orange-flecked waters.

“Hey Y/N.”

I glance at him. He’s gorgeous, even more so somehow. Maybe it’s the time of the day, maybe it’s the mood, or maybe it’s the way my heart can’t help but be swallowed in gratefulness whenever I look at him.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you know water has memory?”

I choke on my beer, “do not-- and I mean this-- do not quote Frozen with me.”

“Huh, I tried.”

---------------------------

“So, Kevin huh?”

My eyes shoot up to meet Emma’s in her crusty-dust-filled mirror, presently lounging on her bed and flipping through a book as I had been trying on my bridesmaid gown. Kevin is downstairs, helping out with the barbeque grill with the rest of the family, and it is only now that I get to have some alone time with the woman I consider my sister.

She’s the only one that knew the exact details of my breakup, and that Kevin is only a mere replacement to cover my humiliated ass. I remember her trying to calm me down when I had called in a frenzy, practically hyperventilating because of the amount of pain that gripped at my heart and was choking me of all air.

I revert my eyes back to the dress, a baby blue as bright as a summer sky, and smooth my hands down my sides, “he’s been so good to me, ever since…” I can’t finish the sentence, voice already wobbling at the thought that comes with it.

“Hey,” Emma’s murmur causes me to look up, and in her eyes I see a flicker of understanding, “he’s not worth it.”

“I know,” I swallow back the tears crawling up my throat, “I know, it’s just--a hard pill to swallow.”

A hand comes to a rest at my elbow, before my cousin tucks her chin atop my shoulder, “it’ll be alright, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve you."

I nod. Then, just to change the subject so that I don’t break down in her arms, I gesture towards the dress, “so? How does it look?”

Emma tugs at some pieces here and there, rearranging the fabric as she sees fit, “I think it looks good. You look gorgeous. Kevin will swoon, for sure.”

“It’s not like that,” I hurriedly say as I strip out of the dress and put it back on its hanger, “we’re just friends.”

“Mhm,” she throws me a pointed look, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “'just friends' doesn't feel right..”

“Emma, really? Right after my breakup?”

“He came to Mauritius just for you Y/N,” she squeezes my shoulders comfortingly, “doesn’t that count for something?”

“Well, we’ve been friends since high school so…”

“I don’t think just any friend in high school would do such a thing if I asked,” Emma catches my eye in the mirror, her gaze deep and meaningful, “just think about that.”

I just nod in hopes that she’ll stop yapping away at my nonexistent relationship with Kevin, whatever that means. The hole in my heart is still so raw and filled with pain that I can’t even start thinking about another relationship. The thought alone is enough to drain me of all energy and I decide to brush it off for now as I follow Emma out in the backyard now filled with familiar chatter and the smell of cooked meat wafting through the air, with the sky bruising a soft purple to signal the end of a long summer day.

Catching sight of Kevin as I bring out one of the many salad bowls that my family has prepared, my lips can’t help but twitch into a slow smile when I see him by the grill, whipping away the multitudes of flies zipping back and forth as my other cousin deftly flips the sausages upside down with a trained rhythm that only years of experience can bring.

“Kevin! You’re not doing your job right!” my cousin cries playfully. Kevin attempts to flap the newspaper around while screeching, “oh god, my eyes are burning!"

“Someone bring more meat!” My cousin hollers.

“There’s more?!”

“He’s doing a great job,” my grandmother’s voice brings my attention back to the salad bowl in my hands, and I quickly bend to kiss her cheek as she continues, “better than any of your other cousins. They never help out.”

“That’s because you pamper them too much, grandma,” I grin at her and follow her to the dining table where my aunts are already settling down amongst themselves.

The evening passes by with good food and good company, the sky darkening and dotting with a veil of stars that has Kevin gawking in awe. I'm not surprised, you don't see skies like that anywhere, a sky that isn't so intoxicated with modern chemicals. My uncles take it upon themselves to introduce Kevin to all the types of Mauritian delicacies, such as chickpea fritters we call 'gato pima', small balls of graped choko vegetable and minced pork 'niouk yen', and to top it all off, a plate of cornmeal pudding also known as 'pudine mai' that makes Kevin's eyes go wide with surprise.

"This is dessert?" He holds it up in his hand, "with ...cornmeal?"

"Sure is," one of my aunts chime in with a smile, "made it just this morning."

It's past midnight when we get back to our little apartment with Emma's dress hanging off my arms, which Kevin doesn't hesitate to grab from my hold despite my protests.

"It's fine dude," he flashes me a quick smile, albeit tired, and my heart does this weird little squeeze in my chest at his thoughtfulness.

He's kind. Too kind. I really don't deserve someone like him.

"I'm sorry," I say as we settle onto the small couch, shoulders fitted snugly against each other, "my family is kinda overwhelming."

"No no," Kevin looks over, edges of his lips curled up, "I actually love your family, you know."

My chest warms, "thanks."

There is a moment of silence that we enjoy, the day's events sinking into my bones.

"Hey," he murmurs.

"Hm?"

My eyes slide over to catch his, dark pools glimmering with a certain softness that catches my attention.

I bite my lip. It suddenly feels a little warm.

"What is it?" I ask, voice hoarse.

"Is oreo a sandwich?"

I sit up so suddenly that I jostle him, "wait--what?"

He grins up at me with that little nose scrunch that I can't help but find endearing, "is oreo a sandwich?" I open my mouth to answer but he beats me to it, "is cereal a soup?"

"Stop."

Reclining back to lace his hands at the back of his head, he says, "is ketchup a smoothie?"

"Stop it."

"What about hotdogs? Are they sandwiches?" He continues in a singsong voice and rolling my eyes, I make a move to punch him once more. But he's faster, hand shooting out to hold my wrists. He pulls me over and I stumble, knee pressing against the side of his leg.

"Come on. Answer it," he wriggles his eyebrows.

"Nope."

“Don’t be a party pooper.”

“You’re so annoying.”

"Are you sick of me yet?" His face is so close that I notice the creases at the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

"That's an understatement."

"But really, do you think oreo is a sandwich?"

"No! Oreos are just oreos!"

“You’re no fun,” He pouts before finally releasing his hold. I draw back with a roll of my eyes, settling beside him once more and pillowing my head onto his shoulder.

Emma’s right. Kevin had sacrificed so much to be here with me, and he doesn’t even know Emma. Yet, he immediately dropped everything so that he could be my plus one, so that I wouldn’t have to face the music alone. The thought makes my heart swell with emotion and suddenly I’m all too aware of his presence beside me.

I shift to gaze at him, eyes tracing the curve of his nose, the indent above his lips before I whisper, “hey Kevin.”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you come?”

His eyes flicker over to mine then. A heartbeat passes. For a moment, I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat suddenly throbbing a little too loudly in my chest.

“Good question.”

Another pause.

“That’s not an answer,” I laugh slightly, to show that it’s all just fun and games.

But when I catch his eyes next, there’s something else brimming in them. They’re tender with emotion and it catches me so off guard that I almost don’t catch his next set of words:

“Because I care about you.”

My heart gives a quick lurch but I somehow can’t tear my gaze away. I want to say something. Anything.

But all I can muster is a soft, “oh.”

“Why do you ask?” he asks, voice hoarse.

I hesitate, “Emma asked why. And...I guess I wanted to know too.”

“Oh.”

The air feels heavy, heightened with the things that are threatening to slip off the edge of my tongue. A mixed series of ‘but why’s and ‘can’t you tell me more’ jumbling up my thoughts with so many possibilities that I decide to stay quiet for the sake of not ruining the moment. Because there’s this lingering fear that once I do say something, then it’ll just pull me down a rabbit hole that I can’t crawl out of, that the only escape lies on the other side.

And I don’t know if I want to take that leap yet. My heart is already so fragile with the aftermath of a love that went wrong. I don’t know how much more I can take.

So I just stay quiet and let out a soft sigh, and though Kevin shifts as if he wants to say something, he doesn’t. The question just hangs there between us, in-between the slithers of moonlight and in the cold Moka air, like a perpetual ghost we ignore as we drift off to sleep.

----------

Something shifts between us after that. It’s unspoken of, but suddenly, I am all too aware of Kevin as a whole. Things that I hadn’t noticed before surface as we spend most of our free time visiting the rest of the island; like how he loves ruffling his hair whenever he feels uncomfortable, or the way his bicep curls as his arm drapes over the wheel with the barest hint of muscle that is enough to be attractive yet subtle, or how he smirks in that attractive way of his whenever he thinks something is undeniably adorable.

The good thing about having Kevin is that I don’t get to think of him all too much, which is a blessing in itself. It’s been days since I’ve shed another tear and for that, I have to say I’m glad that I’m making progress.

We spent the last few days before the wedding traveling around the island to visit all the touristy spots that I know Kevin will enjoy, like a hike all the way to the top of Le Morne mountain, where I explain that’s where slaves would throw themselves off when their masters would find them. We visited Bois Cheri, a tea-making factory where Kevin had the pleasure of tasting all different kinds of teas cultivated in the fields below, and ate lunch on the Caudan Waterfront as we gazed at the boats lulling along the harbour.

“Woah, this place makes me feel like I’m in Aladdin somehow,” Kevin’s mouth is wide agape as his eyes try to take in the endless racks of stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables of the day. The Port-Louis Bazaar has always been one of my favourite places to visit, but it’s also one of the busiest. Even now as we attempt to squeeze our way through, people are jostling us here and there, causing me to press my bag to my chest in case any pickpockets are nearby. I prompt Kevin to do the same.

“Hey Y/N, I wanna check out the bags over there,” Kevin motions towards the hand-woven baskets situated at the far end of the market and I nod as we keep moving forward with the crowd like a pair of salmons trying to swim upstream. But there’s so many people, it’s so suffocating that it gets hard to keep up with Kevin’s figure. Someone elbows my shoulder and I groan, stumbling to the side in irritation, only to get pushed forward by another.

“Seriously--” I curse under my breath, when a hand suddenly appears before my eyes.

Looking up to see Kevin’s outstretched arm, I am only greeted with his bashful smile and averted eyes.

“Come on,” he doesn’t even wait for my consent before slipping his palm over my own and tugging me along, his hold firm and strong despite his skinny frame and the action is enough to render a flurry of butterflies soaring over my stomach.

Stop, I try telling my subconscious. That does nothing, however, to stop my neck from tingling with unfamiliar heat.

Kevin’s hand feels so warm. It’s comfortable, safe.

And I’m liking it a little too much.

He doesn’t let go when we reach the desired stand and talk over which bag looks the best and keeps his hand in mine for the entirety of our journey back to the car. Only when I unlock the doors that his palm finally drops from my hold and air rushes over my palm that is now a little too cold without his warmth. But while a multitude of questions are burning the back of my throat, they fall apart halfway through at the thought of his answer, before I decide to drop it altogether.

Kevin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit affected.

When the day of the wedding finally rolls around, I drive my car to Emma’s after a quick breakfast that Kevin surprised me with -- to my surprise, he’d managed to make a decent eggs and toast without burning the place down -- so that I can help her get into her gown and more importantly so that she doesn’t run away, lest her mind goes in a frenzy at the thought of tying the knot.

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure her, teasing a few of her curls so that they slip down to her chest in a perfect wave. She looks stunningly beautiful, with her strapless white dress that shimmers with diamonds in the light with every movement she makes.

I reach out to smooth over her veil so that it falls on either side of her face, frames her perfectly, and notice her big brown eyes staring back at me through her vanity mirror.

“You look beautiful,” I can’t keep the awe from my voice.

Her face blossoms into a smile, “you too.”

“Ah come on, you can’t say that to me on your wedding day,” I shove her playfully on the shoulder, “you’re the star of the show. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

“Okay mom,” she rolls her eyes before changing the subject, “So, how have things been? With Kevin?” My hands freeze in mid-action, “It’s good.”

I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s giving me a pointed look.

I sigh, “well, okay. Maybe you’re right. About the whole…’just friends’ thing not being true.”

“Why?” she straightens up, turns to me, “what happened? Did you kiss? Did he make a move--”

“No we didn’t kiss,” I’m quick to answer as my cheeks heat up. And after a few beats of hesitation, I give her a summary; the way he’d looked at me that night with eyes that held so much in them that it had made my chest swell, the way that he’d snitch glances at me whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and the fact that he’d grabbed my hand and didn’t let go even long after the crowd wasn’t an issue anymore.

Emma’s eyes are wide and sparkling with a feeling that I know all too well, I can practically see the cogs turning in her head and quickly shook mine in rapid retaliation, “Emma, no.”

“But--But he’s perfect for you!” she bellows in protest, “What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“I can’t go there. Not after,...not now, it’s too soon…”

She rolls her eyes, “it’s not like he’s asking you to marry him, christ’s sake. He likes you, and I feel like you’re only trying to deprive yourself because you feel like it’s not right.”

“It’s not right--”

“Who says so?” she cuts me off then, her gaze hardening on mine with such intensity it takes everything in me not to flinch back, “who says it’s not right? It doesn’t matter if it’s after two days, two weeks, two months. You think I don’t know how it feels to be heartbroken? You can’t just keep thinking about the past. You’re going to hurt yourself that way.”

My teeth sink down onto my lower lip, her words like ice-cold knives aimed straight at my chest.

“What you can control, right now, is the present, Y/N.”

“I know,” I mumble out half-heartedly.

“I can see it, you know, the way he looks at you,” she shakes her head, “even if you don’t like him back, you gotta be aware of all that he’s done for you.”

Her hands find their way to mine, enclosing them in her grasp before squeezing them with such care that I can’t stop the tears crawling up the back of my throat.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs next, “I don’t want to pressure you if that’s not how you feel. That--That was not my intention,” her eyes latch onto mine, filled with understanding, “I just want you to be happy.”

Happy.

That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time.

“Don’t you dare cry now,” Emma says while waving her hands around in warning, “you’re going to ruin your makeup and we definitely don’t want that.”

I sniffle, trying my best to hold in the tears now brimming through my eyes, “you’re right,” I attempt to smile, albeit it’s wobbly, “we don’t.”

“Come here,” she tugs my arm so that I fall into her embrace. Her head finds her way to my shoulder and she hugs me tight, not caring that her veil is getting all bunched up and wrinkled, “you’ll be okay,” she whispers, one hand stroking my back, “you’ll be just fine, little one.”

Then, pulling back and pushing a few strands away from my face, she flashes a bright smile, “we should probably head to the church soon.”

----------

“We now declare you, Vincent and Emma, as husband and wife.”

The church explodes in a round of applause and I join in the clapping, furiously trying to keep the tears of joy at bay. Vincent has been there for Emma ever since they met at work and it has been the most beautiful love story ever since; filled with the purest kind of love no one can imagine. Beside me, I feel Kevin’s hand coming to squeeze my shoulder in a reassuring manner and I feel warm all over despite the rush of emotion in my heart.

The wedding reception is to take place at a fancy restaurant overlooking the harbourfront. Our family has booked the venue for the evening, and as I enter, I take in the baby blue veils that come down each corner of the restaurant, sprinkles of glitter here and there as we make our way to our assigned tables that each have a baby blue napkin shaped in swans.

I don’t even have time to place my butt down when I hear a voice call out, “Y/N! Look how big you’ve gotten!”

Of course, big wedding ceremonies only mean that we get to meet all of our extended family that we haven’t seen since forever, and they’re all too happy to chat with me about living overseas. Soon enough, I’m bustled off to a table and look back over my shoulder to mouth a quick “I’m sorry” to Kevin. Bless his soul, for he only smiles and shakes his head, his hand motioning for me to go on.

I manage to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen since I was a little girl, talk over appetizers with excited aunts who want to know all about how it feels like to live away from family for such a long time, and nod along to the old uncles trying to get me to give a concrete answer about when and where will my wedding take place.

“Come on Y/N! You’re the next one after Emma for sure,” one of my uncles bellow, face flushed red as a result of the glasses of wine he has downed like water. He is Emma’s father, no surprise that he’ll want to get drunk from happiness and pride. It is his daughter’s wedding after all.

He leans close with a conspiratorial look in his eyes, “so tell me,” his eyes glance over to Kevin, currently deep in conversation with another one of my distant aunts. I watch as he says something to make her laugh, and something inside my chest warms at the action, “is he the lucky guy that’s going to ask for your hand?”

“Do you think he’s the one?” another uncle pipes up.

I purse my lips and attempt to shrug, “it’s early days,” I try laughing it off although it sounds forced, “who knows what can happen.”

“He’s a good kid,” an aunt says, “you know how we all have this sixth sense? Well Y/N, I have a good feeling about this young man. Don’t let him go. Something tells me he’s a keeper.”

A wild imaginative speculation, considering that we’re not even dating. But I nod along and say that yes, I’ll tell them whenever I decide to tie the knot.

It’s only when the dance floor opens and people start pooling onto the dance floor after the first dance -- led by no other than the bride and groom themselves -- that I finally allow myself to breathe. I find my way back to my chair, back to Kevin’s warm smile flashing in my direction as his eyes take in the fatigue lining my face.

“You look like you could use a drink,” is the first thing he tells me the moment I plop my butt onto my designed seat, the one that’s been kept cold ever since I stepped foot into the dining hall.

I gratefully accept the glass of wine he offers me, swallowing it down in a few gulps, “thanks,” I sigh with relief, “I needed that.”

“How was catching up with family?”

“It couldn’t be as bad as being left behind,” I peer over at him, guilt flooding me at the prospect of having left him all alone, “sorry. It’s just that everyone--”

“Oh stop that,” Kevin nudges my shoulder with his, “don’t be sorry. It’s totally normal. I’m happy for you. And I wasn’t left behind. I had a wonderful time talking to your aunt. She seemed so happy to tell me what your childhood was like.”

“Bet you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Hey, it works as blackmail. Why wouldn’t I like that?”

“Dork.”

“You’re friends with this dork.”

“Oh piss off,” I slap his shoulder playfully in retaliation, causing him to laugh softly as we watch couples glide across the dance floor like swans over water. The lights have dimmed, the yellow hues now replaced by soft cool blues and purples that cause Emma’s dress to shimmer every time she turns. She’s absolutely stunningly beautiful, and the way she and Vincent are gazing at each other just scream of pure love that wraps around them in a golden mist so enchantingly beautiful that I find myself catching my breath in the back of my throat.

“She’s so beautiful,” the words fall from my mouth without meaning to, and I feel Kevin’s eyes on my face from the corner of my peripheral.

“You are too.”

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at him playfully, “thanks, but why do I have a feeling that this isn’t a compliment?”

“It isn’t,” he holds my gaze, “it’s just the truth.”

Emotion lodges at the back of my throat. I stare at him. He stares back, a glimmer of tenderness echoing through the dark pools of black, his whole expression relaxed into a face that appears flooded with affection for--

Me.

For some reason, no words seem to come to me as I open my mouth and close it. Embarrassment slowly bubbles through my stomach. I look away, unable to contain the goosebumps suddenly exploding across the back of my neck with that same familiar uncomfortable sensation I keep getting around him these days. Like I’m standing atop a cliff and preparing myself to jump.

“Wanna dance?”

I blink in surprise, before turning to the said young man beside me who has his head cocked to the side with that same expression. My heart can’t help but squeeze inside my chest before I push down the rising protest searing through my brain.

I nod. And off we go onto the dance floor. His hands settle on my waist, mine atop his shoulders in a casual sling. There’s enough distance between our bodies to show that we’re not together and yet, I can’t deny that electrical tension that keeps on pulling me towards Kevin like a magnet. I wonder if he feels it too, that searing heat that is so palpable I can feel sweat break out from the back of my neck. Asking, though, would mean that I’m aware of what’s happening, asking would imply that I want something to happen.

Maybe I do.

Maybe I do want to grab life by the reins myself and steer it wherever I want it to go.

“What are you thinking about?”

I blink. Right up into Kevin’s brown orbs, his hair catching the shades of blue from the disco balls. My throat runs dry.

“Uh--” my mind tries to scramble for a response, any response, “just--uhm, it’s kind of like our last day here.”

He cocks his head, “sad?”

“Kinda. I like it here,” my eyes brush over Emma and Vincent’s forms in the vicinity, catch my grandma sitting at one of the tables, little cousins running all over the place. Then, I look back at the said young man gazing at me with that undecipherable look in his eyes that makes my heart sing, and try not to squirm as I continue softly, “it feels like home.”

“We can always come back,” he uses ‘we’ as though it’s now an adventure kept between the two of us, a secret to our own little neverland that nobody knows about. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

“Do you want to come back?” I ask.

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah I want to come back. The views are amazing, the food is out of this world, and your family has been really kind to me.”

“I’m sorry, they are kind of overbearing when you first get to know them.”

“I love it,” Kevin says seriously, “I love that they’re overbearing. Couldn’t have asked for anything more.”

If I had any doubts, the sincerity dripping from his eyes is enough to wipe out any suspicions left from his compliment. The sudden urge to hug him rocks through me and my hands fist on the back of his shirt in response.

We keep on dancing silently, bobbing from one foot to another for a few minutes more before he speaks up softly.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I wouldn't mind getting married here.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “really now?”

“Yup,” he grins, “really.”

“Your future wife will have me to thank for that.”

“Maybe my future wife won’t have to thank you.”

There it is. That same borderline flirting that’s been happening for days on end.

“And why is that?” I probe, partly just to tease him, and partly because I just want to know.

“Maybe she might be right here, in this room.”

“Didn’t know you were into one of my cousins,” I start looking around the room, only for one of his hands to cup my cheek to turn my face back to his.

There is none of that teasing glimmer now. His eyes are darker, gazing down at me with such emotion that the breath catches in the back of my throat and the air halts in my lungs. We gaze at each other for a few beats longer, before I feel his thumb graze my cheek. Gently, so gently like he’d stroke a flower petal.

Swallowing at the heat of his hand cupping the side of my face, my hands unconsciously tighten on the back of his neck. He senses my nervousness, but only pulls me slightly closer so that we are mere millimeters from each other, noses hovering over each other in a space that causes my heart to stutter inside my chest.

When he opens his mouth next, his alto is hoarse, pent-up with emotion.

“I wasn’t talking about your cousins.”

My heart practically jumps to my throat, teeth biting onto my lip.

I can’t hear the music, nor the people. I can’t hear anything except for my pounding heart and Kevin’s soft breaths washing over my face.

His eyes search mine and we hold gazes for a moment too long.

“Y/N?”

I press my lips together, “Y-Yes?”

He moves even closer then so that his nose brushes mine in the most intimate of ways.

“I--”

“Y/N! I was looking all over for you!”

We spring apart like we just got burnt just in time for one of my cousins to grab onto my arm. He sends an apologetic smile at Kevin, before explaining, “we just need to sort out the takeaways. She’ll be back in a second!”

And without listening to my protests, he proceeds to drag me away from the said young man on the dancefloor. I look back, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry” once more -- it’s the second time that night!-- and see the raven-haired man laugh good-naturedly before shaking his head and waving me away. That does nothing to keep my heart from cartwheeling out of my chest, swelling up with such affection that I grin back despite the earlier predicament.

One thing’s for sure: I’m not done talking with Kevin Moon yet.

----------

I find him sitting alone in the tiny garden that overlooks the decorated pavillon a few hours later. His figure, illuminated by the soft yellow hues of interior light, seems to glow in the dark, the moon bouncing off his hair and catching the strength of his cheekbone when he turns and catches me staring. He only smiles though -- that beautiful tender smile that I keep seeing more and more these days -- before waving me over.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” I ask as I reach his figure. A soft breeze dances along the back of my spine, cool in contrast to the warm stickiness of the air.

“Your smaller cousin was showing me what she’d learnt in astronomy at her school,” he tilts his head up at the sky, “she’s quite the prodigy at that.”

“The next woman to land on the moon,” I joke.

“Jeez, I should get her autograph.”

“Wise idea,” that’s when I feel his hand slip into mine and I look down at him, blinking. He grins a little shyly, before tugging me forward so that I all but stumble right into him, halfway sprawled across his lap.

Heat explodes through my chest at the proximity of our bodies and I can’t help but avert my gaze from his, partly embarrassed that maybe there might be someone around to see, and partly because it’s only recently that I’ve started seeing Kevin in a new light that being so close makes my heart choke up and my mind to run blank.

We’re close. So close I feel his breath mingle with mine. My hands settle atop his chest lightly, “Kev,” I breathe out but nothing follows, too scared to verbally voice out what is going on for fear that it might all crumble into nothing.

I don’t want false hope. I also don’t want his heart -- or mine -- to break.

This friendship is too precious to let go. I can’t imagine a life without Kevin in it.

“Listen Y/N,” Kevin’s voice is soft, a hushed murmur resonating through his chest as his eyes search mine, “I think we both know what’s happening here.”

I nod mutely.

Taking a shaky breath, he continues, “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you. I know it’s been tough and that you’re still healing. I just--I just want to know.”

As his words wash over me as gently as the forest leaves rustling around us, I feel the warmth of his hand cupping my cheek, holding me like I am fine china and stroking my skin with his thumb so that butterflies suddenly rush along my middle.

I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood, " I-- well, I think you already know how I feel."

"I know," he breathes, "but I need to hear it from you."

As if it isn't hard enough to come face to face with my own feelings, having Kevin stare me down as though I put the moon in his sky makes me want to squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

“I like you,” I blurt out then, “a lot.”

There is a few seconds delay, before a shit-- eating grin --the biggest I’ve ever seen -- spreads across Kevin’s face like sunshine peeking through the clouds.

“Enough for us to go on a date?”

I nod mutely. I don’t trust my voice, not right now when I already feel so pathetic. Kevin’s grin softens into a tender smile, one that I can’t help but return when our eyes meet in the most intimate of ways. Suddenly, the air feels charged and alive with electricity, the heat between our bodies palpable as his hand moves to the back of my neck.

He tugs. I follow.

His lips find mine mid-way in a delicate kiss.

It’s soft. Softer than any kiss I’ve ever had. Kevin’s mouth parts over my own in a gentle caress, before he tilts his head to the side and captures my lower lip between his.

I gasp slightly at the contact, hands unconsciously tightening around his neck.

Slowly leaning away, I notice the film of lust like a dull glow at the back of his maroon orbs, just the slightest hint that he wants me as a woman. And that makes my lungs constrict, air suddenly halting in the back of my throat.

My skin is prickling with the aftermath of his touch. I let out a soft breath before he covers my mouth with his once more and all thoughts fly out of my brain the moment he does.

I don’t really know how long we spend outside, exchanging the softest of kisses underneath the moonlight, until I hear the soft exclamations of my family’s voices suggesting that it is time to head home. So I part from the said man and can’t help but blush at the lack of space between our bodies.

“We should probably head back,” I hate how wanton I sound, like I’ve just sprinted a mile when in truth I’ve been sitting in this very spot for the last hour.

He agrees and I descend from his lap, his hand subtly finding mine as we walk back to the wedding hall.

Emma is still saying her goodbyes, her hair now dotted with glitter, probably from the decorations that my younger cousins took pleasure in bathing her in. Her face lights up as soon as she spots our entwined hands and I try not to meet her eyes for I know exactly the kind of smug look she'll be giving me.

"Enjoyed the wedding?" She says as soon as we're within earshot.

"That must've been the best cake I've had in my life," Kevin lets out a dramatic sigh, "and that says something."

"Do I trust your taste buds though?" She teases.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he gasped in mock offense, before they both break into playful chuckles.

As we exchange our goodbyes and Vincent engages Kevin in a conversation, Emma takes this chance to drag me to her side as she whispers, "so you gonna tell me the tea or am I going to have to extract it from you?"

I press my lips together as I try to control the heat searing through the back of my neck, "...we kissed."

She gasps, "No way! OH MY GOD! Are you guys a thing then?!" The answer is as clear as water on my face and she clamps a hand over her mouth, would've jumped up and down if she could've, "OH MY, OH MY GOD. I knew it! I just knew this was going to happen--"

"Shut up!" I hiss, scared that Kevin might overhear and think I'm a big fat tattle tale. My eyes quickly swivel over to his and I'm glad to find his head bent towards Vincent in concentration.

"You need to tell me everything," Emma's eyes are sparkling, "like--as soon as you have some free time."

"You--" I send her a pointed look, then jerk my head at Vincent, "--need to tell me everything."

"Oh I will, don't worry."

"Anyway, I'll talk to you after your honeymoon."

"Okay," I turn around to find Kevin, not failing to notice the smirk playing on Emma's lips. I slap her arm in response, causing her to laugh before she calls out:

"Don't forget to use protection!"

-----------

"We'll come back right?"

That's the first thing that Kevin states as soon as we step inside security, away from the tears of my family that I just left behind a few seconds ago. My heart still aches when I think of their faces, all crumpled and blinking at me with tissues in hand and noses as red as traffic lights. But I seek comfort upon feeling Kevin's hand slip through mine as we walk towards our destined gate.

"Sure," I look at him; at his red-tinted cheeks (probably the aftermath of a sunburn), his newly tanned skin a fresh contrast against his white shirt, and the permanent grin that seems impossible to wipe off his face. My heart instantly flutters.

It's only been a few days since we've confessed our growing romantic interest in each other, but I can already feel the weight of his love pouring out of his heart and into mine the moment he realized that my arms would be there to catch him when he fell.

"I'm not going to wake up to an empty bed tomorrow morning, am I?" He’d joked when we stumbled, half-asleep, into Emma's flat after the wedding.

I frowned at him, "Why would you think that?"

"Just in case you think that kissing me was a mistake."

A small pause ensued, in which I realized that despite all my fears and all the pain I had been carrying in my heart ever since we landed on my motherland, I had not once considered how Kevin might be feeling at this very moment.

My eyes quickly took note of his countenance, sweeping right up to his face only to notice the flash of vulnerability in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth were tense, cheekbones taught against his skin as he awaited for my answer with baited breath.

Clearing my throat, I whispered, "it wasn't."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, "good to know."

His answer seemed so genuine, so wholehearted that my chest tightened in a mixture of gratefulness and affection, so much so that my arms automatically reached for him to tug him close. My nose found its rightful place at his neck and I breathed in his comforting lilac smell that I enjoyed so much.

I felt him take a breath. Then, softly, a hand caressed the back of my head. I buried even closer if that was possible.

"I really want this to work," my words were a muffled mess and I was surprised that he understood.

"Me too," he murmured into my hair, "and it will work. I promise I won't break your heart Y/N."

Looking back now at this tender moment in which we both weren't certain of where we were stepping, I can't help but laugh at the thought, for now the love and attraction is so natural I'm amazed it has taken this long to flourish.

Maybe I hadn't been looking the right way. Maybe I had been searching so far out and wide that I hadn't noticed that my safe harbour is the one standing right beside me.

"Hey Kevin," I call out.

Kevin turns towards me, where he'd been watching planes take off from the ground into the gorgeously blue sunny sky.

"Yeah?"

“I’m really glad you came.”

There's a few beats of silence although his mouth immediately cracks into that gorgeous, crooked grin of his that I adore so much.

“Me too.”

----

264 notes · View notes

mybiasisexo · 4 years

Text

Desperado

Genre: Angst | Highschool!au

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Length: 3.6k

Warning: Language | Unfinished

Summary: Your high school sweetheart left you... while still in high school. Cradling a heartache like this is difficult, but you are able to confide in an unlikely student who is just, if not more, broken than you are. Based on the song Desperado by Rihanna.

Author’s Note: This was going to be the first Sehun scenario I posted but idk I kinda just lost interest in it. I plan on finishing it, I swear! Also, this orange hair??? God tier!!!!! BRING IT BACK!!!!

MASTERLIST

credit

Heartache is never easy.

Especially when it is still fresh.

A sigh escapes your mouth as you squint up at the ominous building. Already the cacophonies of voices swim around you like the wind, sending a sharp chill down your spine. You can do this, you remind yourself. You have before.

You rush through the doors and scan the crowded hall. You missed school the day before and now need an assignment for your calculus class. The first person you find that you share said class with makes you cringe—it is Oh Sehun. You bite your lip; contemplating whether going up to him is even worth the effort, but you really need that assignment, so you give yourself a pep talk as you make your way towards the tall young man.

He’s at his locker, lazily spinning the lock back and forth as you approach him. “Um, Oh Sehun?”

His head slants over to your direction, dark eyes piercing.

“Yeah?” He asks nonchalantly, popping the lock and opening the metal door.

“I, uh, was wondering if you could fill me in on the calculus assignment from yesterday? I missed it.” You hate how soft spoken you sound, but you realize that’s the only way you talk on campus now.

“We have Calc together?” He wonders. You nod quickly and he shrugs. “Never seen you in there before.”

You pout slightly but dismiss his comment, not taking it personally. Oh Sehun never really notices anything anymore, apparently.

“Well,” You continue awkwardly. “We do. So, do you have the assignment?”

He digs through his locker, ignoring your presence, but you remain standing there, pride holding you prisoner. As you wait for him to do something, your head turns on its own accord across the hall. There you see a familiar man leaning against his locker with a pretty girl pressed against him. The pair giggle and share a sweet kiss.

Byun Baekhyun.

This man once held your heart. Unfortunately for you, he decided to crush it into nothing but powder without any warning.

For two and a half years he was your world. The two of you were deemed the Odd Pair because you came from different worlds, but somehow you both made it work.

He was the popular, smart, rich kid that everyone knew would own his own multimillion dollar business someday, and you were the quiet girl nobody seemed to notice.

But Baekhyun noticed you.

You and Baekhyun had been making plans for the future. Talking about colleges and whether to get an apartment together and the closest bus stops near campuses. Now there is nothing ahead of you. Baekhyun snatched your future and gave it to somebody else and now there is nowhere for you to go.

You are stuck.

Your breath catches in your throat and you try to focus back on Sehun, but your eyes are stuck like glue to the pair. The man cups the girl’s chin, thumb rubbing the flesh tenderly, and you feel the ghost of the familiar action on your own skin. Their happy faces blur, unshed tears obstructing your vision. You don’t try to blink the water back; knowing the fall of droplets will expose your weakness.

You vaguely register paper rustling and a pressure on your hand and your vision clears. You inhale sharply, like you’ve broken the surface of the ocean and notice the math assignment in your hands.

Sehun is watching you intently, you can feel it and when you dare to meet his stare you both stay like that for a long moment—having a silent conversation you are too terrified to actually interpret. Finally, he makes a noise in the back of his throat and closes his locker.

“Tough break,” he murmurs, throwing a strap of his backpack on a shoulder before spinning away, blending in with the rest of the school population.

“You would know,” you reply quietly to yourself, wiping the moisture from under your eyes.

~*~

You notice Oh Sehun quite a bit after the day at his locker. Notice him walking in the halls, somewhat aimlessly, taking his time. Notice him grab his lunch in the cafeteria and leave with it, never sitting with the rest of the students. Notice him in your shared calculus class, never interacting with anyone and always acing the tests. Notice him in the school parking lot, leaning against a rusty Monte Carlo as he puffs on a cigarette.

You notice how he is always alone.

He doesn’t interact with anyone. He never even seems to notice anyone else. He walks with his head held high, but his eyes glazed over, as if he’s going through the motions.

You notice how much he resembles yourself.

~*~

You have one class with Baekhyun—History, ironically—and decide that today you can’t do it.

So you skip it.

It is stupid and reckless and the first time you have ever in your entire academic career done it, but you refuse to watch them act all lovey dovey.

There’s only so much your crumpled heart can take.

You stealthily make your way down the stairs that lead to the gym but pause once you notice someone sitting at the bottom steps. You easily recognize the tall frame and wild bright orange hair and carefully slide to the bottom. Once your feet land on the last step, you find yourself sitting beside him for some reason, making sure to keep some feet between the two of you.

“Hey,” you greet nervously.

He only nods in acknowledgement.

You sit there silently staring ahead at nothing for five minutes. The whole time you fight with yourself, wondering why you are even sitting there in the first place, but you can’t deny how comfortable if feels. Especially the silence, it is well needed.

Finally, Sehun leans back against the giant banister and faces you. “So, how are you feeling?”

The question catches you off guard and your body jerks around to face him clearly. His sharp features are unreadable, but his eyes seem bright, the dark chocolate brown melting and twirling in what appears to be concern.

“I—I…It still hurts,” you stutter, still shocked by his sympathy.

“It gets better,” Sehun informs you in a quiet tone. He avoids your teary gaze, finding solace in watching his fingers knot together. “It might not feel like it right now, but it will.”

~*~

Oh Sehun.

Your Junior year Sehun was a bright friendly kid. He was a part of the male dance team and was dating the third most popular girl in school, Lee Hyunhee. The two appeared to be in love—at least, Sehun was genuinely head over heels. Baekhyun’s crowd somehow blended with Sehun’s—you assume populars stick with populars no matter what clique—so you had hung out with the pair a few times, although you wouldn’t have called Sehun a friend. You remember him being happy.

But Hyunhee broke his heart.

Cheated on him with one of his ‘friends’ on the team and then had the gull to get angry with him once he found out. She broke up with him in front of the entire school, in the busiest hallway, and stormed off with his friend in tow.

You caught the entire fiasco. Watched as Sehun ran away as if someone were chasing him, all while gripping tightly to Baekhyun’s hand.

Now you held a similar pain.

Summer came soon after and once school started again he was different.

He was a loner. He didn’t address anyone, didn’t acknowledge anyone. He never talked and didn’t rejoin the dance team.

He became invisible.

~*~

“You really need to go to class,” Sehun softly scolds you as he watches you make your way beside him on the stairs.

You haven’t returned to your history class for a week now. Instead, you have been joining Sehun at the gym staircase.

Despite his statement, he scoots over a little, allowing you room on the step he was residing on.

“I can say the same to you,” you reply. He shakes his head in disbelief but you’re pretty sure you catch a small grin on his lips. “I brought us something.”

You yank your backpack onto your lap and rummage through it until you find the gift. Pulling out a brown paper bag, you hand it to Sehun who takes it graciously.

He peeks inside and pouts immediately. You can’t help but to be entranced by his eyebrows bunching together.

“It’s crushed,” he whines, pulling out the giant yet flat cinnamon roll you bought.

You roll your eyes and snatch the dessert from his grasp. “It’s been in my bag all day.”

Taking a bite, you lean back on the stairs. “It still tastes delicious.”

Sehun sighs and you feel his fingers break off a piece. You study him as he chews thoughtfully.

“I guess you’re right,” he allows with a shrug. He then leans forward and takes a giant bite right from your hand.

“Ew!” You squeal, laughing loudly from his antics. He doesn’t join in though, just continues chewing with a look of content.

Slowly. Slowly you and Sehun have been getting closer. You wouldn’t say you are friends just yet, but you are definitely more than acquaintances.

You see yourself in him and you believe he sees the same in you. Both have felt heartache like no other, both of you have to look at the person who broke your heart everyday, both of you are still attempting to heal.

But now neither of you has to do it alone.

“Sit with me at lunch,” you say to a busy looking Sehun in your calculus class.

He scoffs, not taking his eyes off the sheet he’s finishing.

“Sehun,” you whine. “You never sit in the cafeteria.”

“Yeah because I hate it in there,” he murmurs.

You sigh dejectedly.

“You can join me though,” he offers nonchalantly.

You blink up at him. “Really?”

He sits up slowly and finally glances down at you. His face is as unreadable as always, but his eyes are a dead giveaway to you, and now they sparkle with excitement.

“Yeah. I mean, why not?”

“Okay!” You agree quickly, a huge smile on your face. Sehun scoffs again at your reaction, but he doesn’t look away.

The two of you make your way towards the cafeteria. Sehun’s long lanky legs carries him a few steps ahead, and you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose, to keep eyes off of you both. You bring the book you’re carrying closer to your chest, trying as hard as you can to not draw attention to yourself, to stop your heart from beating any faster than it already is.

You can admit you’re excited. Sehun is slowly opening up to you and you feel honored that out of all the people he could do that to, he has chosen you.

You glance up quickly and, of course, just so happen to lock eyes with Baekhyun. He’s talking to his close friend Kim Jongdae. His sentence carries as your eyes remain locked, but he quickly shakes off whatever it is he is thinking and continues with his conversation. You quicken your pace so that you’re closer to Sehun. He feels it and peeks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow but you ignore it as the pair of you enter the cafeteria and join the line.

It’s silent as you grab your food and take Sehun’s lead to, unsurprisingly—although a tad disappointing—the staircase.

“So is this our staircase now?” You ask with your mouth full of food.

He starts coughing, choking on the bite he just took and you quickly pat his back and hand him his water. He chugs it empty and then pins you with his dark glare, eyebrows seeming sharper with his intense stare.

“I always eat here.”

You raise your hands in defeat. “But now I’m eating here too.”

“That doesn’t make it ‘ours’. I found it first.”

“And I found it second,” you shrug; enjoying the reaction you’re getting out of Sehun.

He glares at you again and you chuckle softly.

“Are you okay?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Baekhyun.” His name alone causes your blood to run cold. “I saw him look at you on our way to lunch. Are you okay?”

“I….” Your heart is racing, but it is less because of Baekhyun and more because of Sehun’s concern for you. “I’m fine… now.”

“Oh.” Sehun blinks in surprise before facing away from you awkwardly. “Well, that’s good…then.”

The pair of you continue eating in a somewhat awkward silence for a chunk of time before Sehun is calling your name.

You turn towards him. He’s still facing forward as he clears his throat. “You know, you can…well, we can come here to eat lunch. That way you won’t feel the need to keep skipping history. I know you’re getting behind.”

You suppress a grin. “I’d like that, Sehun. Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugs, eating again.

~*~

Time is going by and you’re finding yourself gradually getting over Byun Baekhyun. You deny the cause having to do with spending a lot of time sitting on stairs, that surely has nothing to do with you moving on. You’re relieved all the same, the stinging in your heart now a mute thud from time to time. School no longer is a chore to you—something you have to just endure. You find yourself actually looking forward to it, looking forward to him.

Your friend, Oh Sehun.

It’s mildly hilarious how in the span of a couple months you have grown rather close to the tall young man. You’ve seen sides of him you doubt most have in years and his odd charms draw you in like a spell.

That being said, you can’t find it within yourself to truly like him romantically. There is no denying Baekhyun took something from you when he left. Made you hard, and you are afraid to let anyone else get that close. Afraid of trusting someone just for them to turn on you without any remorse.

And you know Sehun feels the same way.

Because there are times when his stare lingers a little longer than appropriate. Times when he accidentally slips and says something that makes you lose your breath. Times when he moves his body so close to yours you think you might burst into flames.

But he always pulls back.

The reality is Sehun is just as broken emotionally as you—if not more. He never talks about Lee Hyunhee, and you’re too nervous to bring her up. There is this unspoken rule between the two of you that she is off limits in conversation. It’s as if you’ve built your wall out of wood and Sehun out of concrete, there is just no getting to him.

But that’s what makes the relationship work, the fact that you both understand that and try your best to help the other.

Isn’t it amazing how healing friendship is?

Not to mention refreshing. Having someone around who gets exactly where you’re coming from without any judgment is a welcoming feeling, something you lacked in your life. You are starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s because Sehun is guiding you.

You just hope you’re doing the same for him.

Okay so yeah, you’re getting over Baekhyun, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t still feel some type of way watching him and his girlfriend being all mushy in your shared class with no regard of who may or may not be watching.

They sit directly in front of you and have been touchy since class started and you can’t take it any longer so you ask to go to the bathroom.

While wandering the empty halls, you consider skipping all together, but know Sehun would rip you a new one so you just continue to the bathroom.

On the way back you hear some voices and pause.

One of them sounds like Sehun.

“I saw you with her.” The other voice, a female, says coldly.

There is a scoff as a reply and now you know that’s Sehun.

“So what if you did?” He snaps. “It’s none of your business who I hang out with. It hasn’t been for a year.”

“So I can’t be concerned for you?” She counters. The question confuses you. Who is Sehun talking to? “Sehun, I still care for you no matter what happened in the past.”

“You never cared about me, Hyunhee!” Hearing her name is like having a bucket of ice cold water poured over your head. “You broke my fucking heart! Someone who cares about someone doesn’t do that!”

“Sehun,” Hyunhee purrs and you scowl. Unable to fight it anymore, you peek over the wall out into the hallway they are in. Just as you expected, Hyunhee is resting a hand on Sehun’s taunt forearm. “I’ve always cared about you. And regardless of what I’ve done, I still consider you a friend. So, as your friend, I’m telling you that hanging out with her is bad news.”

Sehun squints his eyes at the beautiful girl. “Why would that be bad?”

“Because she uses people, Sehun. She used Baekhyun and now she’s using you.”

Baekhyun? Was Hyunhee…talking about you?

“That’s ridiculous,” Sehun dismisses and you swell with pride.

“Is it? Byun Baekhyun is the most popular guy in school and he left her. He was her ticket. Now that he’s with Choi Somin she has to find someone else. The thing is nobody wants her.”

“But I’m not popular.” His voice softens drastically and it makes you nervous.

“Oh, yes you are, Sehun. You will always be one of us. No matter how hard you try to shut out the rest of the world. We all still see you.”

He remains silent and it urges her to continue. “She sees it, Sehun. You’re vulnerable. She can manipulate you.”

Your body moves on it’s own accord and before you know it, you’re right in front of them.

“Sehun,” you call his name loud and clear. They both turn towards you. Hyunhee does with disgust and Sehun in a daze. He blinks at you lazily.

“Sehun,” you repeat, your voice now lowered to almost a whisper. Tears spring in your eyes and you bite your lip to hide the trembling. “You don’t honestly believe her do you?”

“Looks like it’s time for me to go,” Hyunhee says, collecting her bag from the ground. She throws a look at Sehun. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Neither you nor Sehun break eye contact as Hyunhee saunters off, clearly satisfied.

Your chest heaves and your hands curl into fists. You’re pissed, but don’t know at what exactly.

Sehun murmurs your name but it doesn’t hold any warmth.

“Please,” you beg. “Please tell me you don’t believe her.”

The bell rings, but neither of you register it. Doors swing open and students pile out in waves, yet you both stay frozen staring at one another trying to convey your true intentions.

Sehun’s emotions are always bared to you through his eyes, but right now you can’t decipher anything and it’s driving you crazy.

You’re also drawing attention. Those walking around you slow down and take in the stare down with curiosity. You can feel their eyes on you like pinpricks and it’s adding on to the rising anxiety. You’re going to burst at any minute you can feel it.

Your name is called and you jolt as if being awoken. Byun Baekhyun is cautiously making his way towards you, girlfriend in tow. They both seem apprehensive, but it might have more to do with the aura around you and Sehun, who is still glaring at you unblinkingly.

“You left your stuff,” Baekhyun says. His eyes jump from you and Sehun but he doesn’t say anything about it. He clears his throat. “I thought I’d bring it to you because, well… yeah.”

You’re speechless. Your throat burns painfully as you take your bag from him and bow thankfully.

“I…” Again he takes in Sehun’s frame. He then leans in closer and whispers with concern, “are you alright?”

You break.

Gulping back the bubble forming in your throat you glare at him. “How could I possibly be alright, Baek?”

He flinches at your hostile tone and the use of the nickname you had given him.

“I just… Sehun’s glaring and… you look upset—I—”

“There are people here who think I only dated you because you are popular and that leads me to believe you believe that! I gave you so much of me! I gave you two years of my life and you just left me, Baekhyun! You left me!”

You are yelling now and a crowd is forming, but you are beyond reasoning right now. You never got closure with Baekhyun, never sat down and discussed anything, you guess now is a better time than any.

“I want to hate you so bad for what you did to me. You destroyed me yet have the gull to be friendly and bring me my stuff all the while your girlfriend—my replacement—is right there! You are so cruel, Baekhyun. People think I used you, but the truth is you used me!”

Baekhyun’s face is flaming red with embarrassment. He keeps opening and closing his mouth but nothing is coming out.

A hand wraps around your arm and you see Sehun through blurry eyes.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He tugs you gently out of the hall and everyone parts for you. Once you’re out into the parking lot you break down. Loud sobs shake your frame violently.

Suddenly, you’re engulfed as Sehun wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his embrace. This only causes you to wail harder, soaking the front of his shirt with your tears.

“That’s right,” he encourages. “Let it out, Babe. Don’t keep it in anymore.”

#Sehun scenarios #sehun scenario #exo scenarios #exo scenario #sehun oneshot #sehun onshots #exo oneshot #exo oneshots #Sehun #sehun fanfic #exo fanfic

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fruityutas · 4 years

Text

the devil wears prada

mafia!lee taeyong x female!reader

lowercase intended, not proofread

!this story is a work of fiction and the characters used in it are in NO WAY like this in real life!

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this as i’ve decided to make one

genre: thriller, fluff if you squint hard enough, ANGST

p.2/?

p.1 here

summary: lee taeyong is a cold-blooded mafia leader, not meant to give or receive love. what happens when an innocent bystander turns out to be the most beautiful woman he’s laid eyes on?

✰ warnings: cursing, blood, murder, descriptions of wounds (man does taking nursing classes help with that lmao), violence, toxic relationship, suggestive scenes

—————————————————————

“i'm afraid i can’t let you go, sweetheart.”

“ah, i see you’ve finally finished. please take this brat, i’m getting quite tired of looking after her.” the new man laughed at your captor.

“you take the front seat, Jae. i want to sit with our little friend.” The man that was watching you climbs into the front seat of the van while the new man gets in the back with you. he looks at you for a while before sighing. you try not to make eye contact with him, fearing that if you do he might get angry.

“why did you walk through such a rough part of town so late? i mean, it was like you’re asking to be taken by someone. luckily for you though, i’m not a creepy old man, just a, how do i put it lightly? i’m not a good person for sure, but i don’t kill random people so you’re in the clear on that.” you stay silent and still avoid his eyes. he sighs and scoots a little closer to you. “what’s with the silence, little lamb?” you grimaced at the nickname he gave you. his hand gripped your chin firmly and he brought you to look into his eyes. “answer me.”

“i was studying late and took that route home because all the busses were done running.” he sighs and lets go of your head.

“well, you’re stuck with us until we decide what to do with you.” you let out a shaky breath and scooted away from him, burying your head in your knees. you don’t see it, but the man named taeyong looks at you with pain in his eyes, knowing that you won’t ever be allowed back to your family or home.

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the van’s doors open and you look up and squint at the bright lights of what appears to be a garage, although much bigger than any you’d ever seen.

“get up, you need to get inside so we can all assess what the hell to do with you.” you slowly climb out of the van, and taeyong grips your arms to help you.

“So what is this place exactly?” you ask as you walk with him and the other two original men.

“this is our meeting house. you were probably told who we are by the target that you were initially thrown in with, am i right?” you nod but then shake your head.

“well, he kind of told me. all i know is that you guys are called nct.”

“ah, well he was right about that. i hate i have to introduce myself in this fashion, but i’m this mafia’s leader. my name is taeyong.” you suck in a breath and nod.

“i suppose that means i can’t leave you guys’ sight huh?” taeyong gives you a tight-lipped smile while holding open a door for you. it led to a beautiful kitchen that held two younger men.

“those two are chenle and jisung. they’re the youngest in here, but don’t worry, they’ve never been on actual missions yet. they might be around your age?” they truly looked like kids, barely out of highschool.

“i guess, i’m 20 so probably not though.” taeyong chuckled.

“well you can babysit them sometime, seeing as they are 18.” they both turned to the two of you and looked confused before shrugging and smiling.

“hello, i’m chenle. taeyong, who is this?” this one was slightly shorter than who you assumed to be jisung, and spoke with a loud demeanor, while the latter stayed quiet, staring at the floor rather than looking up to the rest of you.

“this is a special guest, she’s going to be here for a while, so treat her with respect.” taeyong eyes the two boys with a playful glint in his eyes.

“you can call me y/n.” chenle nodded and glanced at taeyong, his lips forming into a smirk at the sight unbeknownst to you. taeyong was looking at you with a warm smile on his lips, one that hadn’t come out from hiding even when johnny was around.

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taeyong had never seen such a beautiful woman before. the pure fear that radiated off of you when he first saw you made taeyong want to take you in so only he could have you. it wasn’t a caring type of want, but a controlling want. taeyong loved to be in control, and you were never exposed to anything like this before, so he knew he could comfort you and form you to be perfect for him. when you clutched onto him in the garage, you only sealed your fate stronger, you weren’t going to slip away so easily now that taeyong wanted you to stay.

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“ah, y/n, can you please help us cook this?” chenle asked with a cute smile. he and jisung had gotten really close with you in the three days you’ve been in the house. they would always ask you to play games or help them make something to eat. you treated them like your little brothers, always being persuaded by their cute pouts.

“of course, what do you need me to do?” you poked your head into the kitchen and smiled. chenle and jisung were both hovering over a bowl of what appeared to be cake batter. “now what in the world are you two doing?” you chuckled at the sight of the two boys struggling to make a cake. they giggled and moved aside so you could take over.

“ah, taeyong, look! y/n is so nice she helps us cook!” you turn halfway looking at taeyong who had entered the room silently, but smiling. he comes over to you and presses against your back slightly while putting a hand on your waist. you blush as he puts his head on your shoulder, giggling in the process.

“you should tell them to cook it themselves so i can take you somewhere else, huh?” taeyong’s sultry voice hit your ears and you almost dropped the whisk when he started to kiss your neck lightly. he chuckled before pulling away, only enough to turn to the others in the room. “hey, you two. i know for a fact that you can cook this together, so why don’t you? i’m taking our lovely y/n for a little while to show her something.” the two boys nodded and giggled mischievously before taking the bowl and stirring the contents perfectly fine. taeyong, without taking his hand off your waist, guided you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. you had never been allowed up there before today, as your bedroom was conveniently located on the main floor of the house, along with chenle, jisung, jeno, jaemin, and renjun’s rooms. they liked to call themselves the ‘dreamies’ but you always shook you head and laughed when they said that. taeyong had told you from the first day not to go up there, because you hadn’t been introduced to the others yet, and they took anyone they didn’t know as a threat. they of course knew of you, but you weren’t exactly well-accepted within them. jaehyun had already established this form the first time you met him, and mark always avoided eye contact when speaking with you.

“wouldn’t you like to know why i’m taking you up here?” taeyong’s teasing voice was like a melody in your ears, a song you could listen to forever. you shrugged and held onto his arm the closer you go to the top of the stairs.

“i’m sure it’s for a good reason, you told me to never come up here.” he turned and smiled at you.

“i actually do have something to show you, but you have to promise to keep quiet when i show you, ok?” you look at him with curiosity written all over your face.

“uh, ok. i won’t be loud or anything.” your mind races with thoughts of what it could be. was he finally going to dispose of you? what if he locks you up somewhere? or what if he killed your family and was about to show you their bodies? you pushed those thoughts out as far as you could, he had been very nice to you and that display of intimacy in the kitchen wasn’t imagined, so why would he hurt you? well, for starters he was a mafia leader. ‘right’ you thought. ‘a deadly and cold-hearted one at that’ you shook your head and looked at his profile while he walked you to the destination. you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous, his strong jawline and pointed nose. the scar beside his large eyes stood out to you the most, where did he get it from?

“i’m assuming you are worried about what i’m about to show you, but it’s not bad, don’t worry.” his voice interrupted your thoughts as you both stopped outside a large door. he opens it and moves to let you in first. you walk in cautiously but relax once you realize that it’s a bedroom, that you assume to be taeyong’s. it’s decorated with very minimalistic items. greys and whites are the main colors, but here and there are little splashes of color. taeyong picks you up and places you on his plush bed before sitting next to you, guiding your face closer to his with his hand. your face is surely red with the closeness of the man in front of you, his beauty captivating. “what i want to show you is something you have to agree on, ok princess?” you nod your head fervently. he smiles and tells you to close your eyes before gently kissing your lips. you don’t hesitate to kiss back, caught up in the feeling of his skin on yours, a fire burning deep in you. when taeyong breaks the kiss you whine at the loss of feeling. you take his face and pull him in for another kiss, and he smiles into it. the only noises in the room being the smack of lips on lips. taeyong takes the lead after a few moments, pushing you gently down on your back while he crawls over you. his hands make their way to the hem of your shirt, tugging up to take it off. you comply by lifting your torso, only breaking the kiss for a second. you do the same to his shirt, and soon all your clothes were off and strewn across the room. “i’m going to pound you into this bed until you’re screaming my name, princess, until everyone in this house knows it’s me making you feel good”

#lee taeyong #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct taeyong #nct taeyong x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #taeyong x reader #taeyong #mafia nct #mafia taeyong

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missinghan · 5 years

Text

dandelion ⤖ hwang hyunjin

❖ genre : strangers to lovers!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 12,2k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : it’s funny how you’ve been second-guessing every single thing in life to the T but the only thing you didn’t just happens to be running after a total stranger named Hwang Hyunjin.

one.

“And that, my friend, is the end of the chapter. See, that wasn’t so hard, you just need to pay more attention to the details.” Minho shuts his textbook closed and grins at you from your laptop screen.

Your typical Monday starts with online school and ends with Lee Minho since your non-existent brain cells furiously agree to comprehend zero ounce of what your teacher rambled about accounting. Being the sly snake that he is, Minho ‘kindly’ offered you a weekly tutor session with him. Kindly, that is. And you simply cannot see that specific word in his less than appropriate vocabulary when all he did for the past ninety minutes was repeating the same damn things that your teacher did last week.

You groan rather quietly. “How am I supposed to pay more attention to them when they’re so fucking small ?” And you don’t even have to think twice to see that smug smile appearing on your friend’s face.

One that pops up whenever he’s clinging onto Han Jisung’s back like the sloth that he is, one that also occurs when he’s mentally prepare himself to clapping back at you with the most obnoxious yet witty comment that’s gonna make you wanna jump through the laptop screen and strangle him until he begs you to stop.

“Well, aren’t you being unreasonable ?” Minho tuts. “In fact, the smallest details are by far the most important.” You can’t help but scowl when he’s talking all calmly in his wisdom glory as if he’s Sherlock Holmes and you’re John Waston, running after him from one place to another as he keeps lecturing you and acting all mysterious with his stupid deerstalker.

As if he’s asking you to examine a dead body with grand conclusions and spits at you afterwards “Nice one John, you missed every single essential detail that’d give us a lead, again.” A stark contrast compared to when he’s yelling and running around spontaneously. Tsk, so unnecessary.

You feel a rush of air rising up in your rib cage as you cough harshly into the sleeves of your shirt. “Alright— smartie pants, how about you— go find Han and just make— out on Changbin’s expensive leather couch, yeah ?” You say between coughs, hand reaching for the oxygen tubes that’s carelessly thrown on the side of your bed.

The boys always come over to Changbin’s place for a movie night every Monday. You believe that they’re planning on seeing the sequel of ‘Jumanji’ to switch it up instead of watching Woojin’s sappy dramas. How fitting.

Minho pouts. “Come on sour patch, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to point out how much of a dumbass you are.” And it’s no doubt that those words of his are dripping with sarcasm and fake empathy. He’s too predictable at this point.

Normal people would have freaked out to see their friend choking on air like this but it’s been countless times since Minho saw you hacking up lungs and had people yelling at him “Why the fuck are you just standing there ? She’s dying !” But truthfully, you do that all the time and he just doesn’t want to waste a single chance to at least make fun of you.

You sneer at him. “Hold your fucking tongue, you hypocrite.” As you put on the oxygen tubes and loop them around the rim of your ears, you breath adjusts itself slowly and steadily until you don’t sound like a drowning donkey again.

“Whatever Y/N, I hope you don’t fail Park’s accounting class because that’d ruin my reputation.” Minho rolls his eyes dramatically as if the scene he’s just caused wasn’t dramatic enough in the first place. “Do you have the slightest idea of what I was trying to teach you for the past hour and a half ?” He asks semi-seriously because no matter how passionate he is about pestering you, you failing a subject because of him is the last thing he wants to go home with on his conscience.

“Nope.” You beam.

Minho closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. He’s trying so hard not to scream out loud right now, such an amusing sight. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” He repeats after himself, sounding more like he’s trying to prevent himself from exploding rather than comforting you about your stupidity. “We can just start over, I’ll just make a quick summary and you try to do the assignments by yourself after this, okay ?”

“Fine.”

And as Minho starts blabbering about the mere basics of accounting, the door swings open to reveal Jackson - your nurse - who’s pushing a cart full of medications inside your room, the wheels screeching against the tiled floor. “Having fun with maths again, I see.” Jackson comments with a mischievous smile.

“Hey Jackson !” Minho inquires innocently. They both used to share a room when Jackson was still in college. Not to mention, he was good friends with 3racha and made dope music for Minho’s auditions. So you can say that Minho’s technically allowed to fanboy a little over your nurse. “You best believe that Y/N has been doing the most to comprehend what I was saying since she just appreciates me so much.”

Jackson cackles loudly, too loudly for the sake of being in a hospital. He’s lucky that they spent a good amount of cold, hard cash to make the walls soundproof. “Just bear with her until freshman year is over. Don’t pick on the sick kid, that’s not very nice.” And now all you want to do is to put both of their heads on a stick because you know that having both Jackson Wang and Lee Minho in the same conversation is equivalent to the definition of ‘oneself against the world’. Because Jackson too, acts like an old bitchy cat and loves to laugh his ass off at your impending misery.

You grit. “Square the fuck up.” But the scowl on your face soon fades as your nurse reaches his hand outwards underneath the blue fabric that has the whole cart covered and pulls out a brown paper bag. Now, it’s Jackson’s turn to give you a dirty look when you gratefully take the McDonal’s order from his hand like a three-year-old. “You peasants can live for the time being.”

“You’re lucky that your body needs 3000 calories per day or else Jaebum will fire me for feeding you junk food so often.” He informs you rather sarcastically as he scatters your description medications across the table where you’d chose to put your collection of stuffed animals instead of other necessities like textbooks or plastic binders. “I didn’t sign up for this FYI, ugh, I need money to pay off student’s loan too you know ?”

And that’s another perfect example of one hundred and one reasons why you’re not pumped for college like other kids. First off, what do you mean if someone’s privileged then they get to turn the assignment in later than everyone else ? And secondly, how the fuck can a graduate pay off their loans when they’re struggling like a fish out of water to find a decent job ? Not to mention, college dramas are the absolute worst. Things won’t be as lighthearted as highschool when students are entering bars with fake IDs and do drugs to get their minds off things that are stressing them out, which is almost everything.

In conclusion, college is just more of a shithole than highschool so you don’t really get the hype about it.

“You’ll be fine, Wang, stop being so whiny.” You snicker and drop a french fire into your mouth before chewing obnoxiously. “Have fun with your night shift.” You wave him off as he glares at you while pushing the cart outside. The moment Jackson swings the door open again, you can see a figure passing by but this one in particular catches your attention. And surprisingly, it’s a boy because it’s been ages since you have some kind of interest in guys, non-platonically of course.

Not to be one of those creepy people, but you’d admit it, he’s quite the looker. Defined nose, full lips and cute mono lids, the air tossing his black mullet like how every protagonist makes their entrance into the movie. But he also has oxygen tubes put on just like you, perhaps you’re in the same boat ? Either way, that’s not the point because while pretty boy’s out there looking like a runway model in sweatpants, you’re nothing more than a couch potato because you’ve been doing nothing other than staying in bed all day.

Good gracious he’s cute.

“And that is how you can work on simple balance sheets.” Your friend closes in but frowns at your lack of attention. The door finally closes with a soft ‘click’, hurrying you back to reality to find a not-so-happy looking Minho. “Y/N, would you be a sweetheart and tell me that you didn’t miss a single detail during the last five minutes ?” His smile is rather stiff because his facial muscles are struggling hard not to burst as anger slowly bottles up inside of his chest captivity. For fuck’s sake, he hates it when you don’t listen on purpose.

You cock your head to the side dumbfoundedly. “Wait— everything makes no sense.”

Minho sighs in desperation. “Oh... what if you were smarter ?”

two.

“Kkami !” Someone exclaims from behind you.

You stop in the middle of your track and take out a side of your earbuds. The footsteps are getting louder and louder by the second along with the male voice. “Excuse me- pardon- Kkami I swear to God !” You decide to take a full ten seconds to comprehend what’s happening before turning around. The next thing you know is your head comes in contact with something hard, causing you to stagger backwards and land on your bottom.

“Ugh, my head.” You wince at the aching feeling on your back as your pupils slowly dilate and adjust your vision on the current surroundings. The moment you lay your eyes on the figure in front of you, your mouth automatically lets out a silent scream. A cute boy just bumped into you, but then again, you wouldn’t overreact if he’s just any other cute boy. But he’s that cute boy who managed to distract you from Minho, who got your attention even when you just stared at him through a barely opened door.

The boy widens his eyes when he sees what he’s caused. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He apologizes with a smile, offering you a hand to pull you up right. “Are you okay ?”

You take his hand, almost flinching when his touch sends electricity throughout your body. His hands are much bigger than yours and are fully capable of enveloping your smaller ones with ease. You like that about him because you’ve never truly experienced what it feels like to hold someone’s hand in a non-platonic way. “Uhm, yeah, I’m okay but are you though ? You sounded like you’re going through a crisis looking for someone.”

He smiles at you, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “My mom brought my dog here and he accidentally ran off.” His laugh is melodic, sounding just like Mozart to your ears and you can’t help but crack a smile too. “It was nice meeting you, and I really have to go find him before he got to the NICUs or something… but I think we should get to know each other more. What do you say ?” He chides with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You yank his hand away harshly. “I thought you’re better than that.” It’s ridiculous how boys with A+ look can just slide into your lives and stay for as long as they want then just disappear as if they’ve never been there in the first place. You’d hate to see a version of yourself who spends all day crying in bed because some bastard doesn’t love her back so this pretty boy over here better go before you throw him off a cliff.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.” And with that, you walk away without turning your head, not even once. Well, so much for a Tuesday afternoon. Tuesdays are supposed to be easy-going for you since you just have to get yourself through several assignments and essays but someone just had to pop up in your life and ruin everything.

The scowl on your face drops when you push the glass door of the pediatric unit open. Immediately, the kids see you and quickly abandon their nurses to run towards your direction. Your dad just got back from a business trip in Sydney and he still thinks that you’re a nine-year-old so your room is basically filled with candies and other sweet treats. That’d better change today. “Behave well and all of you will have one.” You chuckle at the kids’ eagerness, personally handing one bag over to each and every one of them.

Five minutes later, the amount of treats are slowly trickling down until there’s only one bag left. In which, you’ve saved it for a specific someone since he’s just that obsessed with Australian candies. Your phone buzzes. How convenient.

[ 3:45p.m. ]

yongbokie | okay, I’m here, where are you ?

y/n | seventh floor, just go straight down the hallway and it’s on the right side.

“Here’s your worksheets, now where’s my Tim Tam Slam ?” Felix shoves the stack of papers into your arms as soon as he spots you inside the pediatric unit, surrounded by children, a whole lot of children. He knows your love for kids all too well and the fact that you’re lonely in this hospital is no shocker. Meaning, you’re a part-time kindergarten teacher ( aka whenever you feel like slacking off on school work ).

You scoff at him, throwing the bag of candies at him with as much aggression. “Changbin’s gonna kick you out sooner or later if you end up looking like a pig, enjoy it while you can.” That’s obviously useless since Seo Changbin is as utterly soft for Lee Felix as you are for kids. Both are annoying little pricks but somehow, your little heart can never get mad. “And you better share that with Chan too or else he’s gonna write an entire diss track about me.”

“CB97’s new diss track material is apparently Tim Tam Slam, how terrific.” Your friend snickers and tears the bag open single handedly with his teeth while his other hand tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t even need a cup of hot chocolate, that’s how bad Felix is craving his childhood candy.

“Ooh, earrings ? And jeans too ?” He cocks a brow at your dainty pieces of jewelry. And you never wear jeans in the hospital, never. You think that’s it’s equivalent to asking someone to suffocate you as if the hospital isn’t suffocating enough. “Who are you trying to impress ?”

Upon his teasing, you let out an audible groan. For once in your life, you’ve made up your mind and actually packed something decent because hospital romance is a thing and you need to be prepared at all times. Not to mention, you might as well snatch yourself a guy who’s totally father material because you hang out at the pediatric unit most of the time. “Haha, very funny. Try and find me someone cute then.”

Just then, very slowly, a familiar figure takes long strides towards your direction. “Anyone, but him.” You deadpan.

“Him ?” Felix says over a mouthful of chocolate as he turns his head to the front door.

And holy shit.

To your dismay - with a bag over his shoulder, face flushed from running with beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks that make him glow like Edward Cullen and his wet fringe covering his eyes slightly — is the pretty boy from yesterday, well, more like five minutes ago. They say everything’s uglier close-up but not him. He’s absolutely breathtaking, undeniably brilliant as if he had just stepped out from an anime. But you’re not falling for that perfect smile again, at least for the time being.

“Oh hell no.” Felix quickly identifies the boy and hangs his jaw open, the plastic wrapper falling out from his hand. You look at your friend in disbelief, your expression mirroring his - completely lost for words.

The boy waves his hand at him and smiles widely. “Yongbok !” And just like that, your brain starts to process the new amount of overwhelming information. Slowly, and steadily, all the dots are connected. That guy is definitely heading towards your direction. No one knows Felix’s Korean name unless they’re close friends or family members. Jesus motherfucking Christ-

Felix demands loudly. “Hyunjin, do not move !”

The pretty boy - whose name is apparently Hyunjin - stops abruptly at his friend’s sudden outburst. He turns his head only to accidentally make eye contact with you. Cocking a brow, he averts his attention back to Felix. You too, tug on your friend’s sleeve before questioning him.

“You know him ?” “You know her ?”

Felix widens his eyes in terror and quickly pushes Hyunjin away. “You people are insane ! Six feet away at all times, it’s a fucking simple protocol !”

“Huh- wait what ?” You stutter. Soon enough, all of the colors on Hyunjin’s face are completely drained and a worrisome feeling suddenly runs down your spine.

You exchange a weird look with him. “Don’t tell me that you’re a...“

“Are you also a… “

Felix face palms himself. “You fucking guessed it.”

three.

The next few weeks get a little bit mayhem since you’re wrapping up the semester while being hospitalized at the same time. Meaning, you’re struggling real hard to balance the whole feud with finals and all of the medical stuff along with really boring paperwork because your body decided to fail you once again.

No one was really able to give you company since they have to deal with their own problems too. Your parents are busy with their draining business trips while your brother - Woojin is getting his bachelor degree soon. And Minho is graduating in less than a month. Moreover, you haven’t met the pretty boy since your first and only encounter.

Speaking of the Devil, “Fancy seeing you here.”

You peel your eyes away from your laptop and see Hyunjin. In which, almost makes you fall right off the stool that you’ve been occupying for the last hour. You’re still procrastinating like highschool but you’re actually determined to finish your essay because if not, you won’t be able to walk away from your problems again.

“Six feet away at all times, not six feet under the ground. So knock it off.” You deadpan, ushering him further away with a wave of your hand. If you were being completely honest, Hyunjin just took the breath right out of your lungs at the slightest glance. Time really does make people blind because you almost forgot that although he did try to flirt with you that one time, he’s also drop dead gorgeous. And that makes your heart tingles, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Hyunjin makes a ‘I’mma-need-you-to-relax’ face and takes a seat on the opposite side of the table. “You still radiate big passive aggressive energy, not so good of a first impression.”

You laugh dryly. “Speak for yourself. Talk about some shitty flirting skills.”

“In my defense,” He raises a brow and throws you a look, one that makes you feel personally attacked. “I was genuinely trying to make friends, you sure know how lonely it is to be hospitalized all the time, don’t you ?”

You sneer at him. “Well, you picked the wrong person.”

“How am I supposed to know that you’re also a CF-er ?! You weren’t wearing your oxygen tubes.”

Apparently, you think that life hates you more than most of the world’s population because you weren’t just born with cystic fibrosis, you were born into it. The genetic disease gifts you with constant lung infections and gives you a hard time to breath in order to function like a normal human being. More accurately, the protein inside your body becomes dysfunctional so it loses the ability to move chloride to the cell surface. Meaning, the mucus in various organs can attract more bacteria along with germs, causing infections and inflammation.

So naturally, minimizing contact with any kind of germs and other CF-er are your top priorities unless you want to catch their bacteria and choke to death on it instead. With that being said, you’ve just come to a realization that Hyunjin touched you the other day, skin to skin without any kind of protection like gloves. Some CF-ers have caught each other’s bacteria before by touching a doorknob, and that story scared you shitless.

You speak up, finally. “Uhm… so.. were you okay ?”

“If you’re asking if I got cross-infection or not, then no, I’m totally fine. None of that B. cepacia shit.” Hyunjin answers while avoiding your eyes. He quietly reaches inside his backpack and pulls out a blue binder that looks like it’s been used since elementary school because plastic never really goes away.

You raise a curious brow when he pulls out some pieces of papers that are covered in an awfully dizzy amount of words. “What you got there, pretty boy ?”

“Now you’re talking, I almost ended up on the ground laughing when you thought that I was nothing but a shallow fuckboy.” Hyunjin is still pissed off because not only did you despise him, you also happens to be Felix’s best friend. Totally irrelevant, but he’s also mad at Felix for not telling him about you sooner. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want the both of you to accidentally kill each other or anything but still, Hyunjin did hold your hand and nothing happened.

You prop your head on your hand, lips cracking a smile. “But I’m interested now, no hard feelings. You really need to lighten up drama lama.” You’re just noticing this now, but it seems like he’s really similar to Felix. Point break, he’s an easy victim to pick on anytime, anywhere. Of course you’re going to take advantage of this.

Hyunjin replies monotonously. “I need to practice my lines for the upcoming play for finals season.” He’s trying so hard not to give in and smile at you because he’s decided to play hard to get.

“No wonder why you’re a dramatic little dipshit. How fitting.” You grin coyly at the scowl on his face. “Okay, sorry, let me tone that down. What are you guys playing ?”

Hyunjin groans. “We’re trying to fit an entire season of ‘Once Upon a Time’ into a two-hour play. And my fucking God, Captain Hook has a shit ton of lines.” Although it does appeal as a privilege to other people that drama majors can skip through the whole ‘cramming and crying’ to pass their finals, what people don’t know is the amount of work and effort that needs to be put into a single play. It requires patience, team chemistry, diligence and lots of, lots of caffeine to have a decent performance for the whole school.

There was this one time he pulled seven all nighters in a row just to finish ‘Peter Pan’ before the holiday hit. And for the following five days, he basically lived on his bed and fed on leftover pizza that his roommate refused to microwave.

You offer him kindly. “Maybe I can help you practice ?” You really feel like a fucking angel with your own imaginary halo shining ever so brightly on the top of your head. “I got nothing better to do anyway, not planning on being stuck with accounting 24/7 or I’m gonna end up in an insane asylum.”

“Thought you’re already in one.”

“Say that again and I’ll skin you alive !”

four.

Hwang Hyunjin is fortunately blessed by whatever gods up there because you finally finished finals way before the D-day of his play. Which means you feel even more obligated to help him practice his lines.

But in all seriousness, he technically doesn’t need you because all you do is read the other characters’ lines right off the script anyway. Unlike you, even in the hospital cafeteria with a stainless steel fork as the hook on his right hand, Hyunjin plays the character as if he’s the one and only, non-biological heir of Leo DiCaprio.

You can see why he chose the dramatic arts because he embraces and studies closely every movement, every gesture, every inch of flesh, every drop of emotion that his character has to offer. No wonder why they let him play one of the male protagonists because you can’t imagine anyone other than him play the iconic Captain Hook. And it’s actually nice to not having him spatting some kind of witty comments at you every two minutes.

You clap your hands together. “Act 4. Scene 1.”

“I already told you, I’m just a blacksmith !” Hyunjin tries to whimper as quietly as possible to avoid dirty looks from other people. He’s portraying that scene where Hook basically got tied up on a tree so that the others could get him talking.

Your eyes narrow down into a glare, mentally throwing daggers at his general direction. Meaning if Hook doesn’t spill who he really is, he’s gonna be the monster’s meal in a matter of time. “You won’t talk to us ? Maybe they’ll talk to you and snatch one of your limbs for lunch.”

“You can’t just leave me here like this !” He sudden yelps, startling you in the process. You quickly avert your attention from the script to his eyes, clearly they show nothing but desperation and mischief. As the character should have.

“Su-Sure you’re not.” You stutter, not knowing how to express the words inside the parentheses.

Hyunjin guides you patiently. “Say it like you’re gonna set me on fire if I dare to test you. Be aggressive, talk aggressively, act aggressively. Aggressive is your middle name now.” His voice starts to get louder and louder at the end, a thing that he accidentally adapted from Chan. He doesn’t even need megaphones to yell at someone at this point.

You give him a curt nod before gripping the script tightly once again. If you’re gonna help him, you’ll have to make it seem like you’re not slacking off.

“Sure you’re not.” You deadpan, cringing at your own attempt to sound intimidating. Acting was never your thing either way. You’ve only been chosen for pity roles like ‘Girl #2’ or ‘Tree #5’ for some plays back in middle school and the beginning of highschool.

He smirks. “Good for you. You bested me. I can assure you that the number of people who have done that before can only be counted on one hand.”

Another thing, you fucking love Emma Swan because she’s practically your twin. The only thing is that you’re not even half as badass as her. Sometimes you don’t even realize that there’s a script in your hands this whole time. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be funny ? Who are you ?”

“Kilian Jones.” Hyunjin says with a glint of fierceness flickering in his irises. His intense gaze almost makes you run straight into the restroom and scream for a good five minutes. “But most people have taken to call me by my more colorful moniker, Hook.” The rasp in his voice sends chills to the core of your bones.

You cock a brow. “As in, Captain Hook ?”

He beams. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.”

You pant slightly out of nervousness, gripping onto the edge of the wooden stool for fuck’s sake. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.”

Hyunjin shakes his head gently. “Don’t just read out the line. Don’t become the character. Make the character yours. Make it seems like her lines are personally tailored to every single detail of your existence.” He’s mentoring you as if you’re the one who plays Emma Swan and not that one pretty girl from his class. You swear, you’re not a stalker, he literally just spilled everything about his life after very few conversations with you.

You nod. “Hurry up, they’re getting closer. Unless you want to be dinner, you better start talking.” This time, you finally got a good grip on the character’s emotions, slowly falling into a haze.

“Cora told me to gain your trust so that I can learn everything there is to know about your storybook.” Hyunjin singsongs, lips curling upwards. You really want to deck him in the face right now. That’s how good of an actor he is. “She didn’t want any surprises when she got over there.”

You pretend to be in disbelief, jaw dropping in the process. “She can’t go there. We already destroyed the wardrobe.”

He chuckles this time. God you wish you can wipe that stupid smirk off his face, although everything’s just an act. “Ah, my enchantment remained. Cora gathered the ashes and she’s gonna use them to open a new portal.” He looks at you, wiggling his brows to show off his skills before continues. “Now, if you’d just kindly cut me loose—“

“Let’s go.” You say monotonously to your non-existent cast, waving your free hand as a signal for them to walk away.

“Wait !” Hyunjin slams his fist on the table loudly. It seems like he’s getting immersed in the character again because he can’t be bothered to give two shits about the fact that everyone’s having their eyes on him. More accurately, on the two of you. “You need me alive !”

You also try to ignore all of the weird looks. “Why ?”

“Because we both want the same thing. To get back to your land.” When you meet Hyunjin’s eyes, you nod at him to continue with the script. “I initially arranged for transport with Cora, but seeing just how resourceful you are, I’ll offer you the same deal. I’ll help you as long as you promise to take me along.”

You clear your throat. “How are you going to help us ?”

Hyunjin proceeds to elaborate, slowly. “The ashes will open a portal but to get to your land, she’ll need more. There’s an enchanted compass, Cora seeks it. I’ll help you obtain it before she does.”

“So Cora won’t make it to Storybrooke and we’ll be one step closer to being home. Sounds too good to be true.” You mock him, the corners of your mouth twitching slightly.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

“I’ll need you to tell me one thing then.” You point the tip of your sword (knife) directly at his throat (a good three inches away) as an attempt to threaten him. “What does the infamous Captain Hook want in Storybrooke ?”

“To exact revenge on the man who took my hand. Rumplestiltskin.” Hyunjin finishes his line and claps, breaking out of character. He looks disturbed at the particular way that you’re pointing the knife at him. “And… cut ! Put the knife down, Y/N. You’re a sadist, not a murderer.” He pushes the piece of cutlery away as if it’s a ticking bomb.

This time, it’s your turn to wiggle your brows at him. “You don’t know me. What if I’m an actual murderer who preys on the innocent at night, when everyone’s fast asleep in their cozy beds, when they’re the most vulnerable ? What if I’ve been living a double life this entire time and you’re my next target ?” Actually, scratch that. Hyunjin thinks you’re pretty fitting for the role of Regina aka the Evil Queen.

“Admit it you moron, you’re a sucker for my acting.” He flips his imaginary long hair and you make a gagging noise. It seems like Hyunjin has adapted the habit of holding grudges from Felix because the shy pretty boy that you met a few weeks ago is nowhere to be seen. Like he has grown accustomed to you, he treats you like an old friend, just catching up on things with each other. But in reality, his confidence level just went from a 100 to Han Jisung because you’ve been feeding his ego way too much.

“There’s room for improvement.” You shrug, trying to keep a straight face. Emphasis on the ‘trying’ part. “Bet you’d do better if that pretty girl was here.”

Hyunjin blows a few strands of loose hair out of his face. He looks really good with disheveled hair, and it’s tickling something at very bottom pit of your stomach. “Kinda wish you could play Emma. You two are literally the same person. She’s just slightly cooler because at least she doesn’t sleep with opened windows.”

“Is this a fucking call out ?” You hold back the urge to slap him with your slippers. “My room’s on the third floor for fuck’s sake.”

“Rapists can climb.” He smiles cheekily and it makes you ponder about how many more questionable behaviors of his you'd have to deal with for the long future. “You’re definitely going, don’t leave me hanging okay ?” Hyunjin declares and slaps a ticket on the wooden surface, sliding it across the dining table.

You blink countless times at the ticket, hesitating to grab it with your bare hands. “Take it, I’m wearing gloves anyway.” He reassures you, skimming through some of the scenes that he feels like he could do better. Hyunjin might not look like it but he’s really hard on himself. He takes every single scene, every single line seriously and you admire that about him. He even complained to you how he could have done better for the role of Diaval for ‘Maleficent’ from last month’s play.

“So the play’s on March 20th ?” You play dumb and pretend to question him after reading the bold letters written in gold.

Hyunjin peels his eyes away from the script and smiles, eyes forming little crescent moon shape. “Yeah, the day that I’m turning 21, kinda terrifying but since it’s adulthood, I’ll have to bear with it for the rest of my life. At least I have the right to make decisions for myself now.”

You ask him timidly as your hand fiddle with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Uhm so, do you wanna, I don’t know, get coffee after that or something ?”

He gives you a dirty look, hard. Clearly Hyunjin’s annoyed. “Look who wants coffee now.”

“That’s not a ‘no’ that I heard.”

“You’d better pay up then, I haven’t got paid yet.”

five.

[ 8:23p.m. ]

y/n | meet me on the terrace.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Hyunjin mutters as he rushes to the dressing room, and even more loops of ‘oh my god’ run through his mind, faster than a lighting bolt. He totally forgot about you until you made eye contact with him when the cast members took a full ninety degrees bow to the audience. You were clapping, cheering on for him like an old friend. But you were smiling, so brightly that he thought you could have lit up the entire stadium on your own.

Chan finally finishes bowing to the rest of the cast and the crew. He feels like he can only breathe properly once the play came out smoothly. Unfortunately, it didn’t. Minho slipped over his long coat during the second scene, Seungmin was struggling with the lighting and Jisung nearly threw himself over the balcony. Besides that, everything went pretty okay. Little errors are unavoidable so he’ll let everything slide, because the play that he spent months planning out, training the cast so eagerly didn’t come out as a flop.

“Woah, mate, where are you going in such a hurry ?” He quirks a brow when Hyunjin swings the door open, hair disheveled with ‘panic’ written in bold capital letters across his forehead.

Changbin supplies unhelpfully as he steps out from behind the black curtain. Little strips of confetti are sticking onto his sweaty hair, thanks to Jisoo who kinda went overboard with the can of hairspray. “He invited a friend to come in and watch the play, can’t leave her hanging now, can he ?” He wiggles his brows in the most obnoxious way possible, being the little pest that he is.

“I didn’t even say that my friend’s a girl— she’s not even my friend— wait, she is but we’re not that close— what, fuck you.” Hyunjin gives up after four attempts of forming an actual sentence. As if he’s forgotten how to speak, his voice fails him once again when a witty retort lingers at the tip of his tongue. He gives in and goes behind the curtain, quickly changing out of his costume. Like okay, pirates are cool and all but their sense of fashion is pretty questionable because leather boots and salt water ? Not compatible.

Changbin peels the confetti off his hair before singsonging. “Our Hyunjinnie got himself a date, he’s all grown up now.”

Chan throws his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. This is why he’s not planning on falling for someone soon because having a chaotic, annoying group of friends can only make things so much more difficult. “Give him a break, Bin. A boy can love whoever his heart yearns for.” Then he pauses, and continues. “Do you want to tell us something about her ?”

Hyunjin scrunches his nose and starts singing. “Sing a yo ho, you can beg, plead and whine. But yo ho you are wasting your time.” The moment he finishes the line, he’s already changed into his normal clothing and pushed the curtain open.

Chan and Changbin looks unimpressed. They both think that their friend should really stop quoting his own lines. Hyunjin throws Changbin the hook, then checks his own reflection in the mirror. Not too shabby, at least he didn’t forget to shave this morning. But it’s just you after all, you’d never judge him… wait no you’re highly judgmental. You once called him out for having a piece of carrot in the corner of his lips, shameless.

“Hear me out one last time, mates. Then I’ve got a date with destiny.” Hyunjin continues to sing because he’s absolutely enjoying every moment of Changbin suffering and mentally dying on the floor. He wouldn’t even feel bad if his ears started bleeding or something, hanging out with weird people have turned him into a sadist, just like them. Tragic.

Before Chan decides to wrestle him to the floor, Hyunjin starts moonwalking towards the door as he jumps straight to the last bits of the song. “Sing a yo ho, I’ll meet her tonight. Yo ho must be fate’s design. At last our hearts can be intertwined, can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. God is on my side.” He’s just making up lyrics at this point nothing makes sense anymore.

The door shuts with a small ‘click’, making him snap his mouth closed. Then I’ve got a date with destiny. Right, a date. Well, it’s technically not a date when you asked him to meet up on the terrace where there’s so much to offer. A brilliant view of the city, the ethereal moonlight which sets the atmosphere, just you and him standing face to face.. holy shit it’s a date ?

“You’re late.”

Hyunjin whines loudly at your cold statement and supports himself on his knees, chest heaving up and down at an abnormal space. Cystic fibrosis and ten flights of stairs are like water and oil, they don’t blend. “I was changing, do you know how hard it is to slip out of those leather combat boots ?” Upon your silence, he leans himself against the metal railings and sighs, standing a good six feet away from you. “Hey, at least I looked fly in them.”

You automatically groan because fuck yes, he did look hot. Pirates aren’t supposed to be hot, they’re supposed to be smelly barbarians with shitty attitude. “Since when are you so cocky ?”

Hyunjin tuts. “I’m very much aware of how good looking I am, thank you for taking your precious time to care about my tiny existence on this glorious planet.” He cocks his head sideways, narrowing his eyes at your sketchy posture. Both hands are hidden behind your back and you’re trying too hard to keep a straight face. “What are you hiding from me ?”

“Nothing.” You let out a small giggle. Clearly he’s not buying it. “Fine, close your eyes.”

Hyunjin frowns at you but still closes his eyes nonetheless. He has enough faith in you that you won’t have the heart to knock him out cold before selling him off to some kind of mafia organization. “Y/N if you’re planning on kidnapping me, you might as well just do it—“ The words grow dead on his tongue once a small ‘pop’ occurs. What the fuck ?

“Hey Hyunjin.”

He flutters his eyes open at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. His hand immediately fly to his mouth to stop himself from screaming. “Oh my god, shut the fuck up !” He utters, shocked at what’s happening in front of his eyes. “You’re kidding, you’re kidding, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You laugh loudly at how frantic he is once you get down on one knee with a black velvet box in your hand. A silver band with his name engraved on the inside. “Hwang Hyunjin, can you fathom enough courage to walk with me through your youth even though sometimes you wish you could throw me off a cliff ? Can you bear the burden of indulging an impulsive and indecisive person like me in the long run ? Because if you can, then happy 21st birthday, you’re officially stuck with me with the label of being best friends.”

Hyunjin teases, lips curling up into a smile. “Can’t you be a little bit more romantic ?” Although he’s decently attractive, he’s still one of those guys who bury themselves in hopeless romance just because he spends way too much time on Netflix watching some random sappy show while Kkami is watching some stupid dog documentary right next to him on the couch.

“Fine, I also got myself one. We’re matching.” You confess, showing him your band resting nicely around your index finger. “Since I just know you so well, are you happy with your present now birthday boy ?”

You finish it off by slipping the ring onto his finger like a cherry on top of a sundae, watching in amusement at how his face is lighting up with joy. “Wow,” He manages the breath out, as light as a feather. “You’re so fucking cheesy, I hate you.”

You laugh wholeheartedly. “Come on, let’s go downstairs. You have a whole party waiting for you to inhale. Cakes and junk food and all.”

When you stand up right again, shivers run down on your spine at the cold breeze passing by. The wind greets concrete and your skin just the same, tearing through the air and banging loudly against your eardrums. Hyunjin suddenly grabs the sides of your face, still keeping a good distance between you two. Your cheeks are instantly tinted pink at his touch. “Y/N ! Can you hear me ?!” He tries to shout over the wind but fails miserably.

“What ??” You ask loudly, not being able to catch what he was trying to say.

“No, you can’t hear me ??”

“What ? I can’t hear you !”

He beams at you and the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. “I have something to tell you !” If he’s doing this now, there’s no going back.

“I still can’t hear you !”

Hyunjin ignores your confused expression. He slowly inhales to take a deep breath before shouting his heart out at you. “Y/N, I’ll protect you ! No matter what !”

You can’t quite understand what he’s trying to convey to you but seeing him smiling so widely like this, you know that you could never trade him for anything else. Because no one has ever made you feel this way before, heart pounding inside your rib cage so loudly just by looking at him. You like how you can just see him, and be happy.

He’s irreplaceable.

six.

Felix glares at the silver band wrapping around your finger, one that’s particularly matching with Hyunjin’s. “So what ? You two are dating now ?”

“Lee Felix I swear to god, for the tenth time, it’s a just birthday present !” You cry loudly at your best friend overreaction.

Jeongin butts in. “Yeah right, rings, matching and all. Don’t you think that’s a little bit romantic ?” You’re so fed up with these theatre kids it’s actually ridiculous, you’d rather be cursed than have them singsong into your ears everyday about how you and Hyunjin are acting somewhat sketchy. Sure, being dramatic is naturally what they do for a passion but sometimes you just can’t help it but snap at them to go and kiss a statue.

“That’s the point of it, dipshit.” Hyunjin sips on his drink obnoxiously, reading through the final page of his reading assignment in a haze. He’s a little bit out of it from running around all day to not get yelled at by his professors for being late to every single damn lecture. “I’m desperate, I need something cute to lighten up my sad life so don’t judge me.”

Jisung suddenly pries loudly because unlike you or Hyunjin, he actually gives zero fuck about publicity and personal information. “Hyunjin and Y/N ? I ship it ! Since you both have been super single and super antisocial for so long, why not date each other ? Get married even, don’t you dare forget my invitation.”

Needless to say, he quickly earns a smack on the head from Seungmin, hard. Hard enough to knock some logic and common sense into that little disturbing glimpse of thing that they call ‘a brain’ inside his head. “God, Han, you’re so dumb. If you want them to both choke on each other’s bacteria and die, then yeah, hit a five-star restaurant up with that reservation.”

Sometimes Seungmin wonders why he even befriended Han Jisung in the first place. They nearly threw hands at each other back in highschool because Jisung would constantly forget his stuff inside Seungmin’s locker and Chan had to manually pull them apart later.

“Actually..” Hyunjin fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. “I think I might have my eyes on someone.” Your heart automatically sinks at his words. Is this what betrayal feels like ? How come he’s never told you before ? Didn’t he promise that he’d never hide anything from you ? Does your friendship mean nothing to him at all ?

You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t once thought about dating Hyunjin. But you don’t really see the point because it’s just a label over your relationship, it’s not gonna change how you treat each other. At least it’s not gonna change how you treat him.

But in the end, you want nothing but the best for him so you’re obligated to become his dating counselor.

Felix tuts eagerly. “Ooh, spill the tea. I’m here for it.”

“Let me guess, it’s that girl from Literature & Criticism 19B ?” Jeongin yawns lazily. Apparently he’s not digging the fact that Hyunjin doesn’t have any non-platonic interest in you.

Hyunjin shakes his head profusely. “No ! We barely talk, it was only for a presentation from last month. And also I feel kinda awkward around her. Things never click between us.”

Then, he proceeds to continue with dreamy eyes. “The girl that I’m talking about is so beautiful, so smart, so brave. She enjoys food like no other, like no one is watching and isn’t ashamed of the fact that she can live off donuts and Netflix for three weeks straight. She’s honest, playful but also very gentle and caring. Kinda reminds me of my mom, which is weird but whatever. Maybe people finding a sense of comfort in their partner who’s similar to their parents is a thing.”

The look in his eyes makes your heart crack a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit. It’s that kind of look that you’ve never seen before but know too well what’s behind those brown eyes of his. The goddamn look one can only have when they’re thinking about that special someone who effortlessly makes their heart swell, who puts a smile on their face no matter what. It’s also that kind of look that you have whenever you’re thinking about Hyunjin.

“Alright lover boy,” You crack a smile, rolling up your sleeves because things are about to go down. “You’ve just got yourself a dating counselor. A good old trusty friend who’s gonna be there if you accidentally have a mini mental breakdown on your first date.”

“What do you know about dating ?” Felix’s more than stingy comment just stabs your sky high ego like a needle pricking the tip of a finger.

You kick his knee from under the table, earning a low grunt in return. “I am the best in the business. Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan ? I did that.”

Then you lace your fingers together neatly and look at Hyunjin dead in the eye. “So, what’s your ideal first date ?”

He makes a thinking face. “I haven’t thought about that yet but maybe.. a hike ?”

“Huh, cool.” You take a total of ten full seconds to process what he just said.

You deadpan. “It’s a hard no. Consider the fact that she needs nothing but donuts and Netflix in her life, you’re gonna have to rage war with Satan in order to get her out of the house. Popcorn and blankets are total necessities, make them extra fuzzy too. Let’s stick a pin in that, we’ll get back to it later.”

Felix asks, followed by a loud yawn. “Copy that, what shows is she into ?”

Hyunjin lets out a prolonged sigh. “I’m not so sure but she hates rom-coms and sappy dramas with a passion.” If you’re being completely honest, he really needs to calm down because if a girl is willing to cuddle with him, she’ll literally watch anything. And by that, you mean she will definitely pass out after the long winded introduction of the two protagonists.

“Sounds like a gal who’d watch The Umbrella Academy.” And you totally didn’t say that just because it’s your favorite show. Because for once, Netflix actually didn’t produce something that was undeniably shitty.

Hyunjin sounds uncertain. “I have never seen it before.”

“But he can ?” Jeongin raises a brow.

You shake your head gently. “The show is vicious, violent and contains extremely disturbing content along with really shitty relationships between siblings. Also, the humor doesn’t suit you. Does a fifty-year-old man who’s stuck inside a thirteen-year-old boy’s body and is also someone who fell in love with a mannequin, grew up in a broken family, and became a murderer who timetravels sound enjoyable or what ?”

Seungmin makes a face. “That can be a dealbreaker.”

“Meet us halfway here !” Jisung clatters loudly.

“Sorry, let me back it up a little bit.” You put your hands up in defense. “Hyunjin, it doesn’t matter if all you want to do is go out on a hike and she just wants to curl up into a ball inside her blanket. It doesn’t matter if you guys have different taste in movies. Nothing matters if she truly feels the same way for you because as long as the feeling is mutual, she’d definitely do anything to satisfy your picky ass.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He turns his head to face the window and a grin quietly curls its way up on his lips.

You should have seen the look on your face.

seven.

Woojin growls at you from your laptop screen. “It’s one in the morning ! Get the fuck back to sleep !”

He’s extra cranky today because he just finished off his final paper before graduation happens. Running on one hour of sleep per day with a cup of espresso doesn’t sound like the most ideal thing to do but fuck that, he’s not gonna throw all those years of crying over overdue projects in the trash.

You on the other hand, are so fucking close to soil your pants because your heart is literally dangling off the edge. It’s either gonna roll backwards and land safely as if nothing has ever happened or everything’s going downhill from there. An endless pit of impending misery. And you’d hate to see yourself shedding tears while hogging a bucket of ice cream in your bed like a psychopath. So your only option is unfortunately, your hard headed, dumbass brother.

But he’s not a complete idiot because his brotherly sixth sense is still there, and it’s never been better. “Okay, something’s up. Spill before I personally drag my ass to the hospital and beat you up to get something out of you.”

You stutter, tripping over your own words like an absolute fool. “It’s— uhm… whatever, it’s not a secret anymore. It’s— it’s—“

“It’s Hwang Hyunjin.” Your brother reads your mind like a magician, leaving you utterly speechless. But it’s not even a surprise because apparently, everyone knows about your feelings for Hyunjin, just not Hyunjin himself. He’s unbelievably dumb even when Minho and Jisung keep on hinting at him in a not very subtle way. And that makes you wonder why you even fell for him in the first place. Even that fat cat who always takes naps on your balcony knows because you’d be smiling stupidly while FaceTime-ing Hyunjin all the time. It’s a miracle that the cat has not once given you a dirty look.

You sigh. “Yeah, I‘m confused.”

“About what ?” Woojin huffs tiredly and blows some strands of hair out of his face.

You blurt, panic mode is fully on. “About why I like Hwang Hyunjin so fucking much when he already had romantic interests in another girl !”

Woojin thinks you’re being ridiculous and stubborn at the same time, which can make things that much harder for him to break it down for you. Firstly, if one is loved, then one is loved. There’s no reason needed for loving. This might sound like total bullshit, but ‘love at first sight’ is a thing, people are just too heartbroken to accept it these days. Secondly, if you really like Hyunjin all that much, you should be spilling your heart out at him, not at your brother. But whatever, Woojin is one step closer to pushing you towards confessing to your crush because he’s gifted with the ability to prevent you from doing anything dumb.

“Then what makes you not wanting to like him ?”

You widen your eyes. “What ?”

Woojin shakes his head gently, an exasperated sigh escapes his lips. “You can’t love all of him. This is real life, not a fucking John Legend’s song. If you don’t even know what you hate about him in the first place, you’re not gonna know why you like him relentlessly.” His words slowly sink into your mind, trains after trains of thoughts are dashing through your mind at the speed of light. Goddamn, your brother is right.

“Gosh, I don’t know. I can’t hate him even when I want to.” Before you can pick every single strand of hair off your head, Woojin once again snaps you back into reality with a serious look on his face. He’s not messing around this time. “One, he’s a CF-er. And two, I’m not gonna be the one who walks down the aisle to have them announce our marriage. Three, he only sees me as a friend.” There’s no happy ending for people like you, especially you. The moment you found out that Hyunjin’s also a CF-er, you knew all too well that it’s over for you both.

Your brother scrunches his nose in annoyance. He really should have signed you up for a dating counseling session. “You don’t know what the future holds. It could be better, it could be worse. Or nothing would change at all. Whatever happens, humans still yearn for the happy ending of their own imagination. Because after all, we were the one who pushed ourselves towards dead ends.”

“What’s so wrong with loving someone ?”

“There’s nothing wrong with loving someone, but how we love them.”

Again, Woojin’s right. Every minute, every second, every moment with Hyunjin always leaves you completely stripped and vulnerable. All of your concerns, insecurities, and strength are revealed unintentionally. And the walls that you’ve spent years building ? Mercilessly destroyed. Someday, you’ll either look back on it and smile or you’ll realize that once you’ve fallen, there’s no turning back. You just can’t control who you’ll fall for.

Being in love with Hyunjin is another reason why you believe that life hates you to the very core of your bones. It’s like the whole universe is playing with your mind, because all it takes is to make Hyunjin exists at the same time as you do. That alone is enough to mess up your entire existence.

You cover your face with your blanket, voice muffled beneath the soft fabric. “What’s your point then ?”

“My point,” Woojin sits straight up from his bed and yawns in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible. “is that you can still fall for Hyunjin even when he’s a CF-er, even when he likes someone else. Hyunjin is still Hyunjin. Cystic fibrosis or none, he’s still just Hyunjin. And you love him for who he is. Don’t ever forget that. And don’t get mad when things don’t work out because loving is hard, loving is painful. You just try your best not to get hurt. Every scar has a story and it represents how you’ve grown throughout time. So it doesn’t matter if you accidentally trip and make a fool of yourself. You simply like Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m not going against that.”

You unknowingly smile. The perks of having an older brother always come at the most unexpected time. You suddenly feel bad for all of those kids who grew up without siblings.

“So are you telling me not to be all sad and miserable ?”

Woojin nods absentmindedly. “Precisely. One day you might be strong enough to smile as you watch him intertwining his fingers with another woman’s. Give them your blessings, countless words will never be enough. What they want is your genuine honesty, how you’re truly happy for them. After that, take a different turn, or just move on as it is in silence. But do not let the memories that you made with him become meaningless because trust me, that hits harder. And that’s how you can love someone without being petty about it for the rest of your life.”

You say. “I think I can hold back my tears when Hyunjin’s getting married now.”

“But he needs to know first.” Woojin interrupts you abruptly.

You break out of your trance and ask. “Knows what ?”

“About your stupid feelings for him !” Woojin is quick enough to hold back the scream stuck inside his throat because if not, Chan’s gonna grill his ass so hard for making questionable noises in the middle of the night while his roommate is stressing over a song that’s yet to be complete. The double life between a college student and a SoundCloud rapper isn’t as hot as people tend to think. It just consists of a whole lot of cramming homework while trying to come up with a new batch of lyrics every two weeks.

“He deserves to know that. The sooner the better.”

Conveniently, your phone buzzes on your night stand.

[ 1:17a.m. ]

hyunjin | I’m gonna do it.

hyunjin | I’ll confess to her.

hyunjin | this is so terrifying what do I do ?

eight.

“Y/N wait up, you still have to take your medication !” Mark yells after your panicked figure dashing through the hallway while he’s pushing a cart with an awful amount of medicines piled up.

You shout back at him abruptly. “I’ll be back in an hour ! Don’t tell Jackson about this !” Whatever, you hate being on a drug trials anyway. Having multiple pills shoved down your throat each and everyday makes you sick to the core. It seems like you’re only getting closer to being buried six feet under the ground. But that’s not the point.

Point is, if you’re going to die sooner or later, there’s no way in hell you’d let your life end before you tell Hyunjin how you truly feel about him.

“Hyunjin, where exactly are you going ?” You manage to talk in between short breaths while having him on the other line.

He replies bluntly, uneven breathing and quick footsteps can be heard. “You know how everyone has their own youth, right ?” You keep running despite the fact that what he said just makes no sense. What on Earth is he planning on doing ?

“I also have a youth of my own.” He pauses for a while. “But it seems like… my youth is one to be forever reserved.”

You shake your head furiously, confused at what he’s trying to convey. “Hyunjin, I don’t get it. One moment you’re talking about how you’ll confess to the love of your life and now you’re telling me this ? Did something happen ?”

Hyunjin ignores your question and continues. “My parents would always urge each other to work harder, to make more money so that I can have a lung transplant and prolong my life day after day. But it’ll cost us five hundred thousand dollars, eight hundred even. So I was more than happy to tell them that I’m ready to stop walking on this beautiful flower path anytime. Then, I saw the heartbroken look in my mom’s eyes. That look, it’s— it’s haunting, and hurt me profoundingly.”

His breath hitches, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Knowing that he’s in such a vulnerable state but there’s nothing you can do about it hits so hard that you hate yourself. “There was a man who came up and met me in my hospital room one day, told me that he saw every single play that I’ve participated in. He wanted to sponsor me, to let me fully enjoy my own youth, to give me the money to fly to the States, to get a lung transplant, and lead me to stardom afterwards.”

“But..” He suddenly chuckles. “I have no desire to receive his generosity. Not even one bit. Now, before you start yelling at me, hear me out. I know that I’m selfish, I know that I’m being stubborn but the life that he’s talking about. That’s not the life that I’ve always dreamt of. The life that I wanted, is one where all of my family and friends, are eternally safe, and happy. That’s it, it’s as simple as that. Hence, I’m willing to give that chance to someone else. Someone who’s very special and close to my heart.”

Hyunjin lets out a muffled sob on the other line and you’ve never felt so helpless before. You just wish you could run to him, tell him that everything’s gonna be okay, and touch him. You don’t know how someone who’s so close can be so far away at the same time.

“Because.. well, because cystic fibrosis isn’t just leading me on a path that’s one step closer to death, but it’s also threatening the happiness of the girl I’ve unfortunately fallen for. Unfortunately, that is. She’s always been the biggest ‘what if’ because there were nights where insomnia would creep up on my spine, it was impossible to shut my eyes with her on my conscience. Because why me ? Why me ? I just need a little bit more time, just a little so that I can see her smile, so that I can hold her close, so that I can finally tell her how I really feel.”

“Time is a currency that you can only use, not make. And I’m already running low. Obviously, I can care less even if I die tomorrow. But as long as I’m alive, let me live as merrily as possible, as happily as possible, and to be able to see my loved ones as long as possible.”

Just then, it feels like the whole world just stops spinning when all you can hear is the sound of your shoes tapping against the ground, and him sobbing like a distressed child, raw deep down from the inside. You didn’t realize that you’re crying uncontrollably until salty drops of tears trickle down on your cheeks and drench the collar of your shirt. They blur your vision but you keep on running because Hyunjin needs you, he needs you now.

The icy grey sky is like a piece of fabric draped over the whole town. Dark clouds snuggle closer to each other as they hold in the heavy rain in their delicate forms. All of a sudden, rain pours over you with a roar, thunders grumble vigorously in the distance. The coldness of its touch pierces right through your skin and chills run down your spine beneath your clothes that are now soaking wet. Your footsteps never once falter and continue to move on down the slippery path.

“To love you as long as possible.” Hyunjin breathes out, as light as a feather. “Y/N, I hate to break it to you but I no longer want to be friends with you. Because I already love you too much to accept the label of being best friends.” He says with such determination and huffs. “With that being said, I’ll now consider the ring on my finger as a proposal. And to answer your question on my birthday, yes, I would love to walk with you on this path with the remaining time. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, to care for you, to be someone that you can lean on. So what do you say ? Are you ready to take my hand and my hand only ?”

“Yes, I am.” You stop once you’re right in front of the café that Jisung used to work in, where many unforgettable memories were made throughout time. And on the opposite side of the road, is Hyunjin. Your knees grow weak at the sight of him. Damp hair, teary eyes with a smile on his face. He’s absolutely ethereal and it’ll only take you a few more steps to get to him. “Hyunjin !” You wave at him, the balls of your feet automatically send you running towards his direction.

You feel like you’re hazing because everything’s all too good to be true. How he’s looking at you lovingly, how you’re yearning for his touch, how you’re so close to have him in your arms. Sadly, the sound of rubber tyres hissing against the concrete floor snaps you back to reality. Before you can even process anything, there are two lights ahead blinding your eyes. With a jolt, you realize that those lights belong to a car.

You didn’t know how it happened but the next thing you know is the feeling of the entire weight of your body is pinning you to the ground. Every single limb, every part, every organ inside your body feels like they are being crumbled like a piece of paper. Pain, there’s so much pain. The metallic taste of blood is soaking through your teeth, leaving you in that weird grey area between being awake and being unconscious. You can feel your flesh being torn open, your bones cracking, your lungs caving in for cramped air in silence. Silence, that scares you more than the blow itself. It feels like an eternity, just lying there, completely paralyzed as you wait for Death to arrive.

It seems as if the agonizing pain is the only thing that's keeping you alive.

“Y/N ! Y/N !” Hyunjin calls out to you helplessly as he cups the sides of your cheeks. Seconds later, you can feel his mouth against yours, giving you the amount of air that your lungs has been dying to have. “Y/N, stay with me, stay with me.” He mumbles against your ear before wrapping your arms around his neck to carry you on his back. Hyunjin is chasing time through the night, through the hellish downpour to not waste a single minute, a single second to keep you safe. Because he’s just so sick, so fucking sick of life for taking everything away from him. He’s not gonna lose you, not like this.

“Hyunjin,” You whisper weakly.

He shakes his head. “Don’t fucking die on me or I’m never gonna be able to forgive you.”

“Hyunjin, I’m kinda sleepy.” You laugh, tasting the coopery blood inside your mouth. “I’ll just take a nap, just for a while, okay ?” Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, you can’t tell whether he’s just being stubborn or he can’t hear you with the heavy rain down pouring onto him. But that doesn’t matter anymore because you’re far too exhausted to start arguing with him. Naturally, you’re going to allow yourself to black out either way.

nine.

Weeks later, you’re standing on the rooftop by yourself to run away from the stuffy air of the hospital, those floors and walls that all have an undertone of bleach. They suffocate you, everything does.

You watch the sunset at horizon, enjoying the majestic sight in front of you as if it’s the last thing you’ll ever witness. Rich hues of red, yellow, orange blend into one another gracefully, dancing in between the pink fluffy puffs of clouds. Your spirit soars into the distance as you inhale deeply, feeling refreshed after a long day. It does feel nice to not have all sorts of machines attached to your body like ropes that are tying you down into a single place and trapping you inside a tiny box.

Everyday, you’d sneak out of your room to come up here, and meet him again.

“Y/N,” You close your eyes, smiling at the sound of his voice echoing inside your ears. “By the time that you’re listening to this audio, I would probably, you know, be gone.”

A single tear silently roll down on your cheek. “But I’ll tell you what. I’m not scared of dying, because having the persistent information that I’m always one step closer to hell than everyone else has accidentally made me numb. I am terribly afraid of one thing though.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “I don’t want to be separated from my friends, my family, and from you. Moreover, I don’t want to see the people whom I love so devotedly suffer just because of me. I know what you’re doing, wipe those tears off your face right now. Chin up, and smile. Or you’ll end up complaining about your face getting puffy again.”

You laugh at his words, and attempt to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “Once I’m no longer walking on this flower path with you, that means a new chapter is ready to be open. I cannot thank you enough for bumping into me that day. And thank you for agreeing to practice my lines with me. I could have never played Captain Hook if it weren’t for you. And thank you, for the ring, it’s the most precious thing I've ever had on my hand. But I’ve figured… you deserve a new life. I know that five years doesn’t sound like much but maybe in those five years, things might change and there will finally be a cure for cystic fibrosis.”

“You might think, how could you possibly move on without me ? Well, think of me as a dandelion. Oddly charming, with a short life span. But I’ll never really go away because at the end of its life, a dandelion’s pistil will give birth to countless of seeds. Those seeds will be carried away by the wind and continue to grow, to breed, to multiply themselves for so many more purposes.”

Hyunjin suddenly starts crying quietly, you can hear how he’s trying to muffle his sobs and it makes your heart shatter into a million pieces. There’s absolutely nothing that you can do. “I’m very content with the life current that I have, or had. At least I’ll die knowing that I have no regrets.” He chuckles. “But there’s still something that I need to tell you, just in case. Not to be pessimistic, but just in case.”

“Y/N, I love you, more than anything in the whole wide world. It’s so frustrating because there were times where I wish I could just have you in my arms, to feel your warmth, to kiss you, to touch you. I don’t care about labels because that wouldn’t change my feelings for you. I’d still love you foolishly because I care too much. Too much that it hurts. I want to spend the little amount of remaining time with you. I even don’t know if you’re the one but I need you in my life. You and only you.”

His voice cracks. “...just don’t miss me too much, okay ?”

You can swear that it’s not hazing but if you look far enough, Hyunjin is still there, waving at you with a smile on his face.

Approximately six feet away.

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