#me: NO. i will not forgive the unforgiveable. end of. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stylesispunk · 5 months ago

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"You're the loss of my life" | part 2.

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

part one here

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers. In the aftermath, some scars hadn't healed. w.c: 12,9k (longest piece of writing I've ever written) warning: some fluff, angst HEAVY angst, mentions of dead, mentions of blood. Some events of the game will be mentioned here but they are not the same. Please forgive any grammar mistakes, since this one is so long I didn't check on everything. Paragraphs in cursive contain flashbacks. a/n: Thank you so much for the amount of love you gave to part 1, I Swear I can't put into words how wonderful was to read all your comments and thoughts. This part ended up being totally different from what I started writing but is already here, please feel free to comment or share your thoughts with me, I'm really excited to read what you think! Happy reading p.s, there is a a/n at the end :)

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You hadn’t counted the hours, nor the seconds after it happened. The pictures of blood and yelp were the only things ringing in your ears as a solemn sound taunting your worst nightmares, which became real.

Your face was dry from the salty tears dripping from your eyes

“It’s done.” Tommy said, tone somber as they look on his eyes.

Neither you or Joel spoke. He was still, 5 ft away from you, his arms red from the blood drying on his skin.

Sarah’s blood.

Your painful sob broke the stillness that was suffocating you three in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped out by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall on your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped your arms around you

Your painful sob broke the stillness that suffocated the three of you, in a moment where words were not enough to describe the pain. The feeling of being ripped apart by life itself.

You tried to stand up, walking towards the tree where Tommy had buried her, but your legs shivered, making you fall to your knees on the grass. Tommy wrapped his arms around you, trying to offer some semblance of comfort in a world that had suddenly become so cruel and unforgiving.

Joel remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the ground, his mind seemingly a million miles away. The weight of his grief was a palpable thing, a dark cloud that hung over him, suffocating and relentless.

As Tommy held you, you looked over at Joel, searching for some sign that he was still there, that he was still the man you had loved and married. But all you saw was a broken shell, a man consumed by his own despair.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “We need to be strong. For Sarah. For each other.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze never leaving the ground. The silence stretched on, a heavy, oppressive thing that threatened to crush you both.

Tommy tightened his grip around you, his own grief evident in the lines of his face. “We’ll get through this,” he said softly, though his voice lacked conviction. “We have to.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure you believed him. The world had become a dark and terrifying place, and you didn’t know how to find the light again.

But as you looked at Joel, you knew that you couldn’t give up. You couldn’t let Sarah’s death be the end of everything. You had to find a way to keep going, to find a reason to keep fighting.

For her. For Joel. For yourself.

And so, as you knelt there in the grass, your heart heavy with grief, you made a silent vow. You would survive. You would find a way to live in this new, terrifying world.

Because you had to. Because there was no other choice.

Another night had enveloped the sky, the darkness a heavy blanket that seemed to press down on you from all sides. You had fallen asleep—or at least that’s what Joel and Tommy thought—as you lay curled up under a thin blanket near the dying embers of the campfire. The exhaustion from the day’s events had left you physically drained, but your mind remained restless, haunted by the images of Sarah and the relentless march of time.

The quiet murmur of Joel and Tommy’s conversation floated over to you, their voices low and filled with an unspoken tension. You kept your eyes closed, not wanting to intrude, but unable to help listening in.

“I just don’t know how to move on,” Joel’s voice was a strained whisper, thick with pain. “Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. I hear her voice.”

Tommy’s response was equally quiet, a comforting murmur in the darkness. “We’ll get through this, Joel. It’s hard, I know, but we’ll find a way.”

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke again, the words tearing at your heart. “I should have saved her, Tommy. I should have done something.”

“You did everything you could,” Tommy insisted, his voice firm. “There was nothing more you could have done.”

Joel’s reply was almost inaudible, a broken confession that sent a chill down your spine. “If she hadn’t been there...if I hadn’t had to worry about her...maybe I could have saved Sarah.”

He was talking about you.

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Joel’s words hanging heavily in the air. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as you lay there, paralyzed by the enormity of what you had just heard.

Tommy’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it, a protective anger that surprised you. “You don’t mean that, Joel. You can’t blame her for what happened. It’s not fair.”

Joel’s sigh was a long, drawn-out sound, filled with resignation and regret. “I know it’s not fair. But I can’t help it, Tommy. I look at her, and all I see is what I lost. All I feel is this...anger. And I hate myself for it.”

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. The pain of Joel’s words was a sharp, physical ache, a knife twisting in your gut. The man you loved, the man you had always relied on, felt you were a burden, a reason for his greatest loss.

Tommy’s voice softened, a gentle plea. “You need to talk to her, Joel. You both need each other now more than ever. Don’t let this tear you apart.”

There was a long pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can, Tommy. I don’t know if I have anything left to give.”

The tears finally escaped, silent trails down your cheeks as you lay there, feeling more alone than you ever had. The love you had once shared with Joel felt like a distant memory, a fragile thing that had shattered under the weight of your loss.

The next morning dawned bleak and gray, the sky a canvas of muted clouds. You woke early, the remnants of Joel and Tommy's conversation from the night before echoing in your mind. The pain and betrayal still stung, a constant reminder of how much had changed in such a short time. You quietly gathered your things, making sure not to wake them as you slipped away from the camp.

You needed time alone, a chance to clear your head and process the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. The forest surrounding the camp was thick and dark, a labyrinth of trees and shadows that offered a temporary escape from the crushing reality of your grief.

Hours passed as you wandered aimlessly, the solitude a bitter comfort. You tried to make sense of Joel's words, to understand the depth of his pain and the burden of his guilt. But the hurt was too fresh, too raw, and all you could feel was the aching void where your heart used to be.

When you finally returned to the camp, Joel was waiting for you, his expression a storm of worry and anger. "Where the hell have you been?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the trees. "You can't just walk off like that!"

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling beneath the surface. But the words wouldn't come. You felt too empty, too drained to respond. The memory of his confession hung between you like a dark cloud, a silent reminder of the chasm that had opened up between you.

Joel's anger faltered as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding. He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Please, don't do that again. I can't... I can't lose you too."

Still, you remained silent, the words caught in your throat. You wanted to tell him how much his words had hurt, how deeply they had cut you. But the pain was too great, the wound too fresh.

Seeing your silence, Joel's face crumpled, the anger giving way to a deep, abiding sorrow. He reached out, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

You stood there, enveloped in his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. But the sadness was a heavy weight in your chest, a barrier that kept you from fully returning his embrace. The words he had spoken the night before replayed in your mind, a constant reminder of the distance that now lay between you.

For the sake of your marriage, for the fragile hope that someday things might be different, you decided to pretend. To bury the hurt and the anger deep inside, to put on a brave face and move forward as best you could.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at Joel with tear-filled eyes. "Let's just... let's just try to get through this," you said softly, your voice trembling. "One day at a time."

Joel nodded, his expression a mix of relief and regret. "One day at a time," he echoed, his grip tightening around you as if afraid to let go.

Four months had gone by in mere seconds. The story you and Joel carefully built waltzed into flames, and you didn’t look back after that house was set on fire. You had made your point clear, and you kept an oath in your words. You avoided Joel and forced yourself to pretend he didn’t exist. He became just a stranger you once shared your bare soul and body with.

It was not easy. Not for you, not for him. Your feelings were far from being buried, but in the midst of chaos, you couldn’t allow yourself to die from his words. A man falling out of love with you wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to you.

During the time your garden dried of thirst, a new arrival to Jackson caught your attention. A man. Dr. Matt Carter was a soft-spoken, kind-hearted man with a gentle demeanor and a wealth of medical knowledge. His arrival brought fresh air to the whole community. With his skills and charm, you found yourself drawn to his quiet compassion for others, as if this reeked world hadn’t corrupted him into becoming just a gosht of what he once was.

And you found yourself looking for that.

You and Matt had spent time together, sharing stories, sharing time, and the scars that had wounded both of your hearts. He lost his family during the first days of the outbreak, and you had lost yours somehow. His presence brought warmth to your soul; there was a tentative connection born from respect and understanding, hitting you like a wave.

And as if you were falling for another man, Joel watched from afar; his expression remained unreadable every time he had a glimpse of you in town. The sight of you smiling, genuinely smiling after everything he had put you through, stirred something within him—a mix of longing and regret that he had taken you for granted.

He had taken you for granted. He realized that now was far too late. His actions and choices had driven a wedge between you, and now he was paying the price. You had moved on; you had found someone who could offer you the warmth and kindness he had failed to provide. And he was left with the ashes of a life he had burned down with his own hands.

Ellie had become distant, her eyes reflecting a hurt and disappointment that cut Joel to the core. She no longer sought his guidance or comfort, retreating into her world, leaving him more isolated than ever. And Sophie... Oh god, Joel couldn't even bear to stomach her. The guilt and shame were too overwhelming, a constant reminder of his betrayal, but as he followed the figment of his worst intentions inside his head, he ended up in the same bed with her almost every night.

Every night, the guilt clawed at him as he sought solace in Sophie's arms, trying to escape the suffocating regret that consumed him. He hated himself for it, for betraying you even further, but he was trapped in a cycle of self-destruction that he couldn't seem to break free from.

One night, after another argument with Ellie that ended with her storming off, Joel found himself once again in Sophie's bed. The familiarity of her touch did nothing to ease the ache in his heart. Instead, it only deepened the chasm of regret and self-loathing that threatened to swallow him whole.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his choices pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket. He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't keep hurting you, hurting himself, and destroying everything that had once been good in his life.

He slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Sophie, and dressed quickly. He needed to clear his head to find some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of his emotions. He wandered the dark streets of Jackson, the cold night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it.

His thoughts were a tangled mess of regret and longing, and he found himself standing outside your house, the warm glow of the lights inside casting a soft halo around the doorway. He could see you through the window, laughing with Matt, and the sight of your happiness was like a knife to his heart.

He turned away, unable to bear it, and walked aimlessly until he found himself at the edge of the community, where the world beyond Jackson's walls loomed dark and foreboding. He sat down on a bench, his head in his hands, and let the tears fall.

"Hey."

Joel looked up to see Tommy approaching, his expression a mix of sympathy and concern. "What are you doing out here, Joel?" Tommy asked, sitting down beside him.

Joel shook his head, unable to find the words to explain the turmoil inside him. "I can't keep doing this, Tommy," he finally said, his voice raw with emotion. "I can't keep hurting everyone."

Tommy placed a hand on Joel's shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "You gotta find a way to make things right, Joel. For yourself and for them."

Joel nodded, but the path to redemption felt impossible to navigate. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted.

"Start by being honest," Tommy said gently. "With yourself and with them. It's the only way you're going to find any kind of peace."

Joel sighed, knowing Tommy was right, but the thought of facing you, of admitting everything, filled him with a deep sense of dread. Still, he knew he couldn't keep running from his mistakes. He had to face them head-on, no matter how painful it might be.

The morning air was crisp and cool as Joel and Tommy walked toward the communal dining hall. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden glow over the town of Jackson. Joel's mind was heavy with the conversation from the night before, but he knew Tommy was right. He had to start making things right, even if it felt impossible.

As they entered the dining hall, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and a cooked breakfast greeted them. The room was filled with the chatter of early risers, everyone eager to start their day. Joel's eyes scanned the room, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw you.

You were standing by the serving area, helping with the morning tasks. Your smile was warm as you handed a plate to one of the residents, your laughter ringing out softly. It was a sound Joel hadn't heard in a long time, and it struck him with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.

Tommy nudged Joel gently. "She's been helping out in the mornings," he explained quietly. "Trying to stay busy, I think."

Joel nodded, his gaze fixed on you. He hadn't seen you like this in months—so alive and vibrant—and it filled him with a mix of longing and regret. He wanted to go over to you to talk, but the weight of his mistakes held him back.

"Come on," Tommy said, leading him to an empty table. They sat down, and Tommy grabbed two mugs of coffee from a passing tray, handing one to Joel. "You should talk to her," he urged, his voice low and earnest. "It's not going to get any easier."

Joel watched as you handed out another plate, your smile lighting up the room. Just as he mustered the courage to stand up and walk over to you, Matt appeared at your side. The doctor wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple, a gesture so intimate and familiar that it made Joel's heart ache.

He froze, his intentions crumbling. The warmth and ease between you and Matt were unmistakable, a stark contrast to the cold distance that had grown between you and Joel. Tommy, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor, followed his gaze and sighed.

Joel didn’t know, but your heart felt heavy at the sight of him, weighed down by a complicated mix of emotions. Seeing him standing there, so vulnerable and sincere, had stirred something inside you that you had tried to bury for months.

You tried to focus back on Matt, his kind eyes filled with spark. "Is everything okay?" he asked softly, his hand gently touching your arm.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah.”

Matt gave you a reassuring smile. "Take your time," he said. "I'm here if you need to talk."

You appreciated his support, but your thoughts were consumed by Joel. Despite everything that had happened, the sight of him standing there, so lost and full of regret, tugged at your heartstrings. You remembered the man he used to be man you had fallen in love with.

As you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, your gaze kept drifting back to Joel. He was sitting with Tommy, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast. The sight of him like that broke your heart all over again. You could see the pain etched into his features, the remorse and longing that mirrored your own feelings.

The memories of your life together flooded back—moments of joy, field dreams, and quiet nights. It was hard to reconcile those memories with the man who had hurt you so deeply. Yet, despite everything, a part of you still cared for him and still wanted to believe that there was a chance for redemption.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Four more months passed; that meant you and Joel hadn’t spoken to each other in eight months, and that was everything you could think about. The silence between you had become a constant, oppressive presence in your life. Despite your best efforts to move on, Joel's absence was a gaping wound that refused to heal. During this time, your relationship with Matt has grown closer. He had become a steady presence in your life, offering you kindness and understanding in a world that often felt devoid of both.

So, as these months went by, doubts began to creep into your mind. Every time you were with Matt, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The shadow of your past with Joel loomed large, casting a pall over your attempts to forge a new chance.

Winter was fast approaching, and Jackson was bustling with preparations for the colder months. That night, the town had organized a party. The community gathered in the large hall, the warmth of the fire and the sound of music creating a temporary respite from the harsh reality outside.

You were with Matt, trying to enjoy the festivities, but the weight of your unresolved feelings made it difficult to fully immerse yourself in the celebration. You found yourself glancing around, half-expecting to see Joel in the crowd, even though you knew it was unlikely.

Matt noticed your distraction and leaned in closer, his brow furrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but tinged with worry.

You forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm just thinking about everything that's happened."

Matt's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "I know it's been tough, but we're here now. Together."

"I appreciate you spending time with me," Matt said, his eyes warm and sincere. "It's been easy adjusting to everything here, but your company has made it even easier."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad we met, Matt. You've been a great help to all of us, and it's nice to have someone to talk to."

You squeezed his hand, appreciating his support, but the doubt still lingered. As the night wore on, you tried to push your feelings aside and focus on the present, but it was a losing battle.

Later in the evening, you and Matt found a quieter corner of the hall. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours. "I've been meaning to talk to you," he began, his voice serious.

You nodded, bracing yourself for the conversation you knew was coming.

"I care about you a lot," Matt continued, "and I want to take this relationship to the next level. But I need to know if you're truly ready for that."

Your heart clenched at his words. You wanted to be ready to move forward and leave the past behind, but doubt gnawed at you. "Matt, I don't know if I can," you admitted, your voice trembling. "There's so much I haven't dealt with, and I don't want to hurt you."

Matt's expression hardened, and he pulled his hand away. "I can't keep waiting forever," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "I've been patient, but it feels like you're still holding onto something—or someone."

The truth of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been holding onto Joel, to the memories and the pain. You couldn't deny it any longer. "I'm sorry," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, but I can't ignore my feelings."

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand, but I can't keep doing this. I need someone who is all in, not someone who's still tied to their past, nor someone who wants to sleep with me."

Before you could respond, he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone in the corner of the hall. The weight of your unresolved feelings and the consequences of your indecision pressed down on you, and you felt more lost than ever.

You stood up, needing some fresh air, and walked out of the hall. The cold night air bit at your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself and took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts.

The night was clear, the stars twinkling above you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel the full weight of your emotions. You knew you couldn't keep running from the past, but facing it felt like an insurmountable task.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder where Joel was and if he was struggling with the same unresolved feelings that haunted you.

Because you thought he deserved it.

The dim light from the streetlamp outside your window casts long shadows across the room, its faint glow barely illuminating the small apartment. You had fallen into a restless sleep, your dreams plagued by memories of the past and fears of the future. The mattress beneath you was thin and uncomfortable, and the scratchy blanket offered little warmth against the cold reality of the world outside.

The sensation of an arm wrapping around your waist jolted you awake. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you were disoriented, caught between the remnants of a dream and the harshness of reality. You tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary, but then you recognized the familiar touch and the scent that belonged to Joel.

"It's just me," he whispered, his voice rough and weary. The tension in your body eased slightly, but the unease remained.

"Where were you?" You asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, the worry evident in your tone. "It's past 2 AM."

Joel sighed, his breath warm against the back of his neck. "Out scavenging," he replied, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We needed more supplies, and I couldn't sleep."

You turned to face him, your eyes searching for his in the dim light. The lines of worry and fatigue etched into his face were more pronounced, a testament to the weight he carried on his shoulders. "You can't keep doing this, Joel," you said softly, your hand resting on his cheek. "You need to rest too."

"I know," he admitted, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. "I just... I can't stop thinking about everything. About Sarah, about you, about how we're going to survive."

Your heart ached at his words. The pain of loss and the burden of survival were constant companions in your lives. "We'll get through this," you said, your voice filled with a determination that belied your own fears. "Together."

Joel's eyes opened, and he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. "I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But I'm so damn grateful you're here."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We're in this together," you repeated, your voice firm. "No matter what."

You had never told him you had heard the words.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate intensity, as if he feared losing you too. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest; the shared rhythm was a reminder that, despite everything, you were still alive and still fighting.

As you lay there in the darkness, holding each other close, the world outside the tiny apartment seemed to fade away.

You stood there, staring up at the night sky, lost in your thoughts. The cold air nipped at your skin, but you welcomed the sharpness. It kept you grounded and reminded you that you were still here, still feeling, even if every emotion seemed to tear at you from the inside.

A voice broke through your reverie, soft but unmistakable. "It's a clear night, right?"

Startled, you turned to see Joel standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets. The lines on his face seemed deeper in the moonlight, and his eyes held a mixture of emotions that mirrored your own.

After eight months, you were there face-to-face.

"Joel," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged slightly, the motion almost imperceptible. "I needed some air. I saw you out here. I thought maybe you could use some company."

You looked back up at the sky, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm not sure I can handle this conversation right now."

Joel took a step closer, his presence both comforting and suffocating at the same time. "I don't want to push you," he said softly. "I just felt like you might need someone to talk to."

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet night. "Talk? What is there to say, Joel? Everything's so messed up."

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I know. I never wanted things to end up like this. I messed up more than I can ever make right."

You shook your head, feeling the sting of tears again. “You ruin everything.”

No more words came out of his mouth, and you closed your eyes, hoping he would leave you alone.

"How long?" Joel asked finally, his voice breaking the silence. "How long have you been with the doctor?”

You looked at him, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. "We're just friends, Joel. He helps me cope with everything. But it's not what you think."

Joel's shoulders slumped, relief mingling with the guilt in his eyes. "I don't know what I think anymore," he admitted. "I just know that I can't keep pretending like this doesn't hurt. Seeing you with him reminds me of what I lost. What I threw away."

+++

The room was dark, illuminated only by the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the small window. You and Joel had finally found a place to rest in Jackson, a sanctuary after months of navigating through the states with Ellie. It felt surreal to be in a bed again, to have a roof over your heads and a semblance of normalcy.

You lay beside Joel, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. The warmth of his body next to yours was a comfort you had almost forgotten. As you turned to face him, you saw his eyes were open, gazing at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"I can't believe we're here," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the night.

Joel reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Me neither," he replied softly. "Feels like a dream."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "A good dream."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know it's been hard," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Everything we've been through... but we're here now. And I want you to know that I love you. Always have, always will."

The words took your breath away. It had been so long since you had heard them, since you had felt the certainty of his love. Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, cupping his face in your hands.

"I love you too, Joel," you whispered, your voice breaking. "More than anything."

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You buried your face in his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside might have been falling apart, but in that moment, you had each other, and that was enough.

Joel’s words cut through the night air like a blade. “Sophie is pregnant.”

You felt your breath catch, the weight of his revelation sinking in. Anger, hurt, and confusion are all mixed together in a tumultuous storm inside you. “What do you want me to do? To kill him?” you retorted, your voice sharp with sarcasm and pain.

Joel shook his head, his expression somber. “It isn’t mine.”

“Good,” you snapped. “I can't say what kind of mother Sophie will be, but that child doesn't deserve a father like you.”

Joel flinched at your words, the sting of them evident in his eyes.

“How do you know it’s not yours?” you asked.

“Because she is two months old,” Joel said, his voice steady but filled with a weary resignation. “And do you think I would have the strength to be with her after what happened?”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. The weight of the past, the betrayal, and the lingering feelings between you made it hard to breathe. “It’s not like you care about someone’s feelings,” you spat, your voice trembling with emotion.

“Come on,” Joel pleaded, his eyes filled with desperate earnestness. “You should stop being this unfair.”

“Unfair?” You echoed, your voice rising. “You think I’m being unfair? After everything you’ve done?”

Joel took a step closer, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’ve hurt you. But I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to lose you.”

“Then why?” you demanded, tears streaming down your face. “Why did you do it? Why did you throw everything away?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched into his features. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I was lost. I was hurting. And I made a terrible mistake. But I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

He never stopped loving you; he said those words.

You shook your head, and the pain in your chest was almost unbearable. “Loving me wasn’t enough, Joel. It wasn’t enough to keep you from hurting me. And now... now I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words crushing him. “I understand,” he said quietly. “But I need you to know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. To earn your trust back. Even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You looked at him, the man you had once loved with all your heart, and felt a flicker of the old connection between you. The weight of unspoken words and lingering pain hung in the air between you, and you took a deep breath, needing to finally voice what had been haunting you for so long.

"After Sarah died..." you began, your voice trembling. "I know you spent weeks wishing it would have been me instead of her. Don’t try to deny it. I heard you the night after. You and Tommy were talking, and he was telling you not to push me away, and you said, "

"She was our daughter," Joel interrupted, his eyes glistening with tears as he realized how horrible he had been to you. "You know what it felt like to lose her."

"I know," you replied, your voice soft but steady. "It would make you feel better to know I did it too, but that's the difference between us. I would never wish that because you mean everything to me, and without Sarah, I needed you to keep going."

Joel's expression crumbled, the weight of your words breaking through the walls he had built around his heart. He took a step closer, his hands trembling as he reached out to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I was so lost in my grief that I couldn't see how much you were hurting too. I pushed you away when I should have held you closer."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw vulnerability and regret there. It was a glimpse of the man you had once loved—the man you had hoped he could be again.

"I needed you, Joel," you said, your voice breaking. "I needed you to be there for me, but you shut me out. And then... then you betrayed me in the worst possible way."

Joel nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I know. And I can't change what I've done. But I want to make things right, if you'll let me. I want to be the man you deserve—the man who can be there for you like I should have been. All over man”

You closed your eyes, the weight of his words settling over you.

Joel's gaze softened, his eyes searching yours with a mix of sorrow and understanding. "I was scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scared of reopening old wounds, scared of facing my own guilt and grief, I thought if I buried it deep enough, it would eventually fade away. But I was wrong."

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words, the pain of years of unspoken grief rising to the surface. "I was scared too," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Scared of losing you, scared of facing the reality of what we had lost together."

As Joel's words hung heavy in the air, you felt a surge of anger and betrayal rising within you. "You're going to talk about her now?" You spat, your voice tinged with bitterness. "You never mentioned her because you felt it was better to pretend, she didn't exist?"

Joel recoiled at the accusation, his eyes filled with pain. "You don't get to tell me how I should feel," he protested, his voice shaking with emotion. "I loved her too, you know. Losing her was... it was the hardest thing I've ever been through. Because when I saved you, she died,"

"So, letting my baby die was your revenge?"

"It was my baby too," Joel insisted, his voice pleading. "I would have given anything to save him; you know that."

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. "You're..." you started, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain and anger. "I fucking despise you, Joel," you finally spat, the words heavy with the weight of your broken heart. "Fuck you, fuck Sophie, fuck everything that..."

But before you could finish, Joel's voice cut through the chaos, soft and filled with longing. "I miss you," he whispered, his words echoing in the space between you.

"You have to," you replied bitterly, your heart aching with the rawness of your emotions. "When did you stop loving me?"

"I love you," Joel said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You sighed, the weight of his words crashing over you like a tidal wave. "When did you fall out of love with me?" you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I never did," Joel confessed, his eyes locking with yours. "You're the love of my life. I would marry you in all the universes."

"But?" you pressed, your heart clenching with the fear of his answer.

"But every time I look at you, I see my baby girl in your eyes,” Joel faltered, his voice trailing off.

"You could have told me,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I don't forgive you, Joel. I loved the old you, I was in love with that man. I had a beautiful girl with him, and they both died that night."

"Stop talking like I don't exist anymore," Joel pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion.

"You don't," you replied, your voice hollow with grief. "The Joel Miller I loved would never do what you did."

As the truth of your words settled over you both, you felt the weight of your shared grief and regret pressing down on your shoulders. But somewhere deep inside, you knew that the man you had loved still lived, intertwined with the veins of your soul, forever a part of you.

You walked away from him.

As the days passed by, the encounter with Joel lingered in your mind, stirring emotions you had tried to bury. The pain, anger, and lingering love for the man he once was weighed heavily on you, despite your attempts to move forward. You found yourself distracted, your thoughts often drifting back to that night and the raw honesty of his words.

Joel, too, was affected by the confrontation. He became more withdrawn, his guilt and regret casting a shadow over his every action. You could see the torment in his eyes whenever your paths crossed in Jackson, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds that had yet to heal.

One cold winter morning, you were busy with your usual tasks, trying to keep your mind occupied. The biting wind swept through the town, and you pulled your coat tighter around you as you made your way through the streets. As you approached the central square, you noticed a commotion near the gates.

Ellie had arrived, her face flushed with anger. She stormed through the gates, her eyes blazing with fury. Concerned, you approached her, hoping to understand what had happened.

"Ellie, what's wrong?" you asked gently, trying to catch her attention.

She glared at you; her anger palpable. "Fuck you," she snapped, her voice filled with a bitterness that cut through you.

Taken aback by her hostility, you stepped back, watching as she continued her march towards the center of Jackson. You followed her with your eyes, your concern growing. It was then that you saw Joel arriving from the opposite direction, his expression tense and troubled.

Joel's eyes found yours across the space, and in that moment, you realized that something she had found out the truth. The weight of his gaze and the anger in Ellie's demeanor pointed to a revelation that had shaken them both to the core.

The air felt fresh against the skin of your face, but for a reason you couldn’t kept going, you paralyzed as you saw Ellie’s back from behind as she kept making her way towards Jackson in complete silence.

You and Joel had sworn everything he had said was true. You had made a choice for her and th guilt began to creep within you.

Joel noticed your distress, and walk backwards until he was in front of you “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I can’t keep this secret” you told him.

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked into your eyes. "I need you to be strong," he said softly. "For her. For us. We'll protect her from this, together. We can't ever tell her the truth," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She can't know what really happened with the Fireflies."

You stood beside him, the enormity of his words settling over you. "I know," you replied, your voice heavy with resignation. "But it's going to be hard to keep it from her, Joel. She deserves to know the truth."

Joel turned to face you; his eyes filled with a desperate plea. "Please," he said, his voice breaking. "I need you to promise me. For her sake. For all our sakes."

You met his gaze, seeing the anguish and fear in his eyes. You understood the stakes, the delicate balance that needed to be maintained to protect Ellie. With a heavy heart, you nodded.

"I promise," you said softly. "We'll keep the secret."

Joel exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," he murmured. "I know it's not fair to ask this of you, but I couldn't bear to lose her. Not after everything."

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering what comfort you could. "We'll protect her, Joel. Together."

Joel's expression softened. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

Ellie’s words stung, but your concern for her outweighed the hurt. Determined to understand what had set her off, you followed her through the bustling streets of Jackson. The winter air was crisp, and your breath was visible as you quickened your pace to keep up with her.

“Ellie, please,” you called after her, but she didn’t slow down. Her steps were fueled by anger and pain, and you knew something significant must have happened.

She finally stopped near the edge of the settlement, in a secluded spot away from prying eyes. You approached her cautiously, giving her space but making it clear you weren’t going anywhere.

“What happened?” You asked, your voice gentle but firm.

Ellie spun around to face you, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and betrayal. “You and Joel think you can just lie to me? About everything?”

Your heart sank. The truth had come out. “Ellie, I—”

“Don’t,” she cut you off, her voice trembling. “Don’t try to explain it away. I know what happened. I know what he did and what you both did.”

The weight of her accusation hung in the air, and you felt the full force of your guilt crashing down on you. “We were trying to protect you,” you said quietly. “We thought it was the only way.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, but her anger didn’t waver. “You had no right to make that choice for me,” she spat. “I deserved to know the truth. I deserved to make my own decisions.”

You took a step closer, your own eyes misting with tears. “I’m sorry, Ellie. We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it was the only way to keep you safe.”

Ellie shook her head, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You know, you both deserve each other,” she said, her voice breaking. “That baby you lost didn’t deserve a liar mother.”

Ellie’s words cut deeper than any blade. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the pain of her accusation mingling with the agony of your loss. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the words to respond.

“Ellie, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t say that.”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps behind you. Joel had followed, his face etched with worry and regret. “Ellie,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“Save it, Joel,” she said, her voice cold. “I don’t want to hear any more lies.”

Joel’s shoulders slumped, his eyes pleading as he looked at her. “Ellie, please. We did what we thought was best. We were trying to protect you.”

Ellie’s anger flared again, and she took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. “Protect me? By lying to me? By taking away my choice.”

Joel’s expression crumbled, and he glanced at you, his eyes filled with desperation. “We were wrong,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “We were wrong to keep the truth from you. But we did it out of love. Out of fear of losing you.”

Ellie’s gaze flickered between you and Joel, her emotions a storm of betrayal and hurt. “I need time,” she said finally, her voice cracking. “I need to think.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Joel. The guilt and regret in his eyes were too much to bear. You took a step back, then another, putting distance between you and the man who had once been your anchor. The man who had become a stranger through a web of lies and broken promises.

“Wait!” Joel called out, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t go.”

But you couldn’t stay. Not now. Not with everything crashing down around you. You turned away, your heart heavy with grief and sorrow, and walked away from Joel, leaving him standing alone in the snow.

As you made your way through the town, the cold wind stinging your cheeks, you couldn’t help but replay the events in your mind. The pain in Ellie’s eyes, the desperation in Joel’s voice, and the unbearable weight of your own guilt. You had thought you were protecting her, but in doing so, you had shattered the trust that had once held you all together.

The night was cold, a sharp wind slicing through the darkness as the three of you huddled around the crackling fire. The journey to the hospital had been long and arduous, each day blurring into the next as you traversed through abandoned towns and treacherous terrain. But tonight, there was a strange sense of peace among you.

You rested your head on Joel's shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours, a welcome contrast to the biting cold. Ellie sat across from you, poking at the fire with a stick, her face illuminated by the dancing flames.

"Ugh, you two are disgusting," Ellie joked, a playful smirk on her lips as she watched the two of you. "Get a room, seriously."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire. Joel's arm tightened around you, a subtle yet comforting gesture. "Jealous much?" you teased back, meeting Ellie's eyes with a grin.

"Yeah, right," Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "As if I'd want to cuddle up to Joel."

"Hey now," Joel interjected, his voice carrying a mock tone of hurt. "I'm plenty cuddly."

Ellie laughed, the sound infectious and genuine, filling the night with a rare sense of normalcy. It was moments like these that made the hardships of your journey bearable, the little pockets of happiness that you all clung to.

As the laughter died down, a comfortable silence settled over the three of you. You closed your eyes, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of Joel's chest beneath your head, the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby.

"We're becoming a little family, aren't we?" you mused on Joel’s chest just for him to listen.

"Joel."

He turned back at the sound of your voice, the familiar timbre soothing his demons as only you could tame them. How could he have messed up all he had with you?

You hadn't wanted to talk to him in so long that he felt he could cry just from hearing his name slip from your lips.

"Hey," he stuttered.

"I-" you started, struggling to find the words to begin a conversation with the man you had once shared your bare soul and body with. Carefully, you stepped onto the porch of the house you had once shared, your legs trembling. "I....- knew... well. Ellie found out the truth," you said, standing next to him, barely touching his shoulder with yours.

"She hates me," Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"She doesn't," you declared firmly. "She's mad at me too, but she doesn't really hate you or me."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he said, his voice tinged with hurt.

"I don't," you declared, your tone steady. "I don't feel anything for you, but I won't blame you for what you did."

Joel's shoulders slumped, and he turned to face you fully, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the connection you once shared. "I don't know how to make things right," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You can’t.” You declared, “At least, not for now. You need to let her alone for a while.”

Joel nodded, his expression a mixture of resignation and longing. "I know," he said softly. "I just... I want to fix things, but I don't know where to start."

You met his gaze, seeing the turmoil in his eyes mirrored in your own. "Sometimes, the best thing we can do is give each other space," you said, your voice gentle yet firm. "Let Ellie process everything in her own time. And in the meantime, we need to figure out how to move forward."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't even know if she'll ever forgive me," he admitted, his voice heavy with doubt.

"You can't control how she feels," you reminded him, your words laced with empathy. "All you can do is show her that you're truly sorry and that you're willing to do whatever it takes to make things right."

Joel's gaze softened, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, the weight of his words carrying the weight of his remorse. "For not giving up on me."

You gave him a small, sad smile.

Joel swore he could die just to repair what he had done to you, just for having you this close to him. If one thing had been different, what would it be like now?

The innocence of a first kiss doesn't compare to the stolen glances between two people who once knew everything about each other. And when you said so, you meant him.

He knew you; he drew a constellation in your arms, but he didn't allow you to catch a glimpse of himself in you.

You were a thing—a disposable one.

But he was everything, caring while being careless.

He was human; he loved you, but he was a man.

One who didn't know how to love after humanity had taken everything from him.

"Ellie." You said, looking at her sitting outside your house.

"Why the hell were you talking to him?" she asked, bitterness on her tongue.

"Because I knew you talked" you replied

"Yes, but I don't want you to talk to him"

"I was just checking on him" you defended yourself from her accusations.

"Why? Why do you care about him?

"Ellie-“

"No! He makes you cry every time he is near you, I don't want that.'

"I was part of the lie too and I'm sorry but if you would be here now, I wouldn’t be alive

"I don't hate you. I'm sad you did it, but you didn't make that choice for me. Joel did, he is the one to blame.

"Don't even defend him," Ellie snapped, her frustration boiling over. "I swear, I'll get mad at you for that."

You fell silent, the weight of Ellie's words settling over you like a heavy shroud. In that moment, you realized just how much pain and anger Joel's actions had caused, not just for Ellie, but for you too. And as you looked at her sitting outside your house, you knew that navigating this tangled web of emotions was going to be harder than you ever imagined.

As winter settled over Jackson, the town transformed into a snow-covered wonderland, blanketed in pristine white. The days grew shorter, the air colder, and the residents bundled up in layers of warm clothing as they went about their daily routines.

In the weeks that followed Ellie's revelation, tensions remained high among the residents. The fallout from the truth about the Fireflies cast a long shadow over the community, leaving everyone grappling with their own feelings of guilt and betrayal.

For you, the days passed in a blur of routine tasks and quiet contemplation. You found solace in the routine of daily life, throwing yourself into your work and trying to push aside the weight of your own guilt and regret.

As New Year's Eve approached, the town began to buzz with anticipation. Despite the somber mood that hung over Jackson, there was still a sense of hope and renewal in the air. The residents came together to celebrate the passing of another year, eager to leave the pain and heartache of the past behind them.

The streets were decorated with twinkling lights and festive decorations, and the sound of laughter and music filled the air.

The New Year's party was in full swing, with laughter and music filling the air. The community of Jackson was determined to celebrate and to find moments of joy despite the darkness that surrounded them. You were there, mingling and trying to put on a brave face, when suddenly you heard Ellie's voice rise above the din.

The room fell silent after that, all eyes turning towards the confrontation. Joel stood there, looking wounded and weary, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Ellie's words. Without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake.

You felt a pang of sympathy for Joel, despite everything that had happened between you. After a moment's hesitation, you followed him outside, needing to see if he was okay.

You found him on the porch of what was once the house you both shared, sitting on the steps with his guitar in his lap. His fingers plucked at the strings absently, creating a soft, melancholic tune. He looked up, startled, as you approached, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

"I didn't expect to come out here," you admitted, taking a seat beside him. "But I heard what happened inside. Are you okay?"

Joel let out a heavy sigh, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "Just another fight with Ellie," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "It seems like all we do lately is fight."

You nodded, understanding all too well the strain that grief and guilt could place on relationships. "It's hard," you said softly. "On all of us."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. "I never meant to hurt you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Any of you."

"I know," you said, your voice just as quiet. "But that doesn't change what happened."

Joel nodded; his expression hurt. "I don't know how to fix this," he admitted. "I don't know how to make things right."

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the only sound was the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the love and pain that still lingered between you.

"Maybe some things can't be fixed," you said finally, your voice trembling. "Maybe we just have to find a way to live with the pieces."

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with deep, abiding sorrow. "I'm willing to try," he said softly. "If you'll let me."

"I never thought I would see you with a guitar again," you said, ignoring his words and the way your heart constricted against your ribs at the reminiscence of the man you loved, back when Joel was full of life and hope.

Joel glanced down at the guitar in his lap, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess some habits die hard," he murmured, his fingers resuming their gentle strumming. The soft melody hung in the air, a haunting reminder of a time when things were simpler, when love and music filled your lives instead of pain and regret.

You watched him for a moment, the familiar chords stirring memories that you had tried so hard to bury. "Do you remember the first song you played for me?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Joel nodded, his eyes distant as he recalled the memory. "Of course I do. 'Can't Help Falling in Love.' You said it was your favorite."

"It still is," you admitted, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Even now."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound being the soft strumming of Joel's guitar. The tension between you eased slightly, replaced by a shared sense of nostalgia and longing.

Joel finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. "I miss those days," he said quietly.

"So do I," you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "But we can't go back, Joel. We can only move forward."

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "But I wish I could make things right between us."

You looked away, the pain of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "Some things can't be fixed, Joel," you said softly. "Some wounds are too deep."

Joel's fingers stilled on the guitar strings, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "For everything."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "I know you are," you said finally. "But sorry isn't enough to change what happened. It isn't enough to heal the hurt."

"I know," he said again, his voice filled with sorrow.

You smiled softly, a memory from the past momentarily lifting the weight on your heart. "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with Sarah back then?"

Joel's eyes softened, and he returned your smile, the sadness in his gaze briefly replaced by warmth. "How could I forget? You were glowing. It was the happiest I'd ever seen you."

You chuckled at the bittersweet sound. "You were so stunned, you just sat there for a minute, speechless. I thought you were upset."

Joel shook his head, his fingers stilling on the guitar strings. "I wasn't upset. I was overwhelmed. It was like everything I'd ever wanted was finally coming true."

A comfortable silence settled between you, the shared memory bridging the chasm that had grown between you. The night air was cool, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves nearby.

"I miss those days too," you admitted softly. "When life was simple, and our biggest worries were about making ends meet, not surviving day to day,"

Joel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We can't go back to those days, but maybe... maybe we can find a way to move forward."

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes touching a chord within you. "It's going to take time, Joel. And a lot of effort."

"I know," he replied, his voice steady. "But I'm willing to try. For us, and for Ellie."

The mention of Ellie brought a fresh wave of emotion. "She's been through so much," you said, your voice thick with concern. "We need to be strong for her."

Joel's fingers resumed their gentle strumming, the soft melody filling the night air once more. "We will be.”

Your heart began to beat faster—a heavy, suffocating rhythm that filled your chest. For a moment, it felt as if the man you once knew, the man you had loved with all your heart, was sitting right there beside you. In that instant, there was no cheating, no dead baby, and no outbreak. Just you and Joel, the way it used to be.

He looked at you with those soft brown eyes of his, eyes that once held nothing but love and hope. The same eyes that had crinkled at the corners when he smiled had looked at you with such adoration and warmth.

Joel's fingers, calloused yet gentle, reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was so light and tender that you almost didn't feel it. But the gesture—the simple, familiar intimacy of it—made your breath catch in your throat.

"Do you ever think about what could have been?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

Joel's eyes held yours, and for a moment, you saw the depth of his sorrow and regret. "Every day," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "I think about it every day."

The weight of his words settled over you, mingling with your own grief and longing. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap that had grown between you, but the wounds were still too raw, too fresh.

"I'm sorry for everything," he continued, his voice breaking. "For all the pain I've caused you."

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. "Stop saying that," you whispered. "I know you are."

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the past had dissolved, leaving only the two of you, bound by the love you had once shared. The guitar's soft melody wrapped around you, a bittersweet echo of the happiness you had known.

But reality, harsh and unrelenting, lingered at the edges of your consciousness, reminding you of the chasm that still separated you. The pain, the betrayal, the loss—they were all still there, lurking in the shadows.

Joel's hand lingered on your cheek, his touch a gentle reminder of what you had once had, and what you had lost. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, even as your heart ached with the knowledge that it could never truly be the same.

Joel leaned in; his intentions clear in the way his eyes searched yours. But as his lips neared yours, you instinctively moved your head, redirecting his kiss to your cheek. His lips lingered there for a few seconds, warm and soft against your skin, a hesitant caress that spoke of longing and regret.

The unexpected intimacy of the moment sent a shiver down your spine, and for those few lingering seconds, you let yourself feel the connection, the love that still lingered between you despite everything that had happened.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You looked at him, your own emotions a tangled mess. "I don't want to lose you either," you admitted, your voice trembling.

"Hey," Ellie said, her voice breaking the fragile silence. "Am I interrupting something?"

Joel pulled back slightly, his expression shifting from the raw vulnerability he'd shown to a more guarded demeanor. "No, Ellie," he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "We were just talking."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Talking, huh? It looked like more than just talking."

You stood up, brushing away the remnants of tears from your cheeks. "It's okay, Ellie," you said, trying to sound reassuring. "We were just... sorting things out."

Ellie crossed her arms, her gaze still flicking between the two of you. "Well, whatever. I just came out to get some fresh air. That party is too loud."

Joel gave her a small, understanding nod. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "Sometimes you need a break from all the noise."

Ellie looked at you, her expression softening slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked, her concern evident.

You managed a small smile, though it felt strained. "I'm getting there," you replied. "One step at a time."

Ellie nodded, seeming to accept your answer. “Can I talk to Joel?” she asked, looking for an answer

As you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. The tension between Ellie and Joel was palpable, and you couldn't help but worry about what their conversation might entail.

The knock on your door startled you awake, pulling you from the restless sleep that had plagued you for hours. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you stumbled to the door, heart pounding with uncertainty.

When you opened it, Joel stood on the other side, his expression hesitant yet hopeful. His presence filled the doorway, casting a shadow over the threshold.

"Joel," you said, your voice a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Hey," he murmured, his gaze searching yours. "I... I couldn't sleep. Can we talk?"

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready to face him again after everything that had happened. But the sincerity in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings, and you found yourself nodding, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel's words trailed off as he reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, stirring emotions you had tried to bury deep within.

Before you could protest or pull away, his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and regret, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

For a moment, you were lost in the sensation of his lips against yours, the familiarity of his touch washing over you like a wave. Memories of happier times flooded your mind, threatening to overwhelm you with their intensity.

But as quickly as it had begun, the kiss ended, leaving you breathless and confused. You pulled away, staring at Joel in shock, searching for answers in the depths of his eyes.

"Joel, what are you doing?" you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of emotions.

Joel's expression was pained as he stepped back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know what came over me."

You shook your head, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "We can't do this, Joel," you said firmly, though your heart ached at the words.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with regret. "I just... I needed to see you. To talk to you. To try to make things right."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's too late for that," you said softly, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air between you.

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know. I just had this feeling and I couldn’t sleep." Joel met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. "I just don't know if I can do this without you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice stirring something deep within you. But you knew that giving in to him now would only lead to more heartache in the long run.

"I need space, Joel," you said, your voice firm but gentle. “Go to sleep, please”

Joel nodded, his shoulders slumping further in defeat. “Have a good night, and happy new year” he said, smiling.

“Happy new year.”

As the next day progressed,

you went about your tasks, trying to focus on the bustling activity in Jackson. The town seemed livelier than usual, with people coming and going, laughter filling the air. But something felt off, a nagging sense of unease that lingered at the edges of your consciousness.

Hours passed, and you realized you hadn't seen Joel, Tommy, or Ellie all day. At first, you brushed it off, thinking they might be busy with their own tasks or simply taking some time for themselves. But as the day wore on and the sun began to dip below the horizon, that nagging feeling grew stronger.

You tried to push aside your growing unease, focusing on your tasks with renewed determination. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.

Finally, unable to ignore your instincts any longer, you set out to find out what had happened to Joel, Tommy, and Ellie. You searched the town, asking anyone you came across if they had seen them, but no one had any answers.

As the evening wore on and darkness descended upon Jackson, your anxiety reached a fever pitch. The streets grew quiet, the bustling activity of earlier replaced by an eerie stillness. And still, there was no sign of Joel, Tommy, or Ellie.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

As you approached Ellie, Dina, Tommy, and the rest of the group, the gravity of the situation became painfully clear. Ellie was hurt, her face twisted with grief and anguish, while Dina followed closely behind, offering what comfort she could. Tommy and the others looked devastated, but it was Tommy's expression that caught your attention. When his eyes met yours, he broke down, the weight of his grief too much to bear.

"Ellie? What's wrong?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"He's..." Ellie began, her voice choked with emotion.

"Tommy?" you turned to him, hoping for some clarity.

"Joel died," Tommy finally managed to say, his voice breaking with the weight of his words.

Your heart stopped, the world around you fading into a blur as the reality of his words sank in. Joel, the man you had loved and lost so many times over, was gone. The ghost of your Joel had died, and now you had lost him physically as well.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to process the enormity of the loss. Joel, who had been a constant presence in your life, was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

You reached out to Ellie, offering whatever comfort you could, but inside, you felt as though a part of you had died along with Joel.

Joel was gone, and with him, a piece of your heart had died too.

You stood in Joel's house, surrounded by the remnants of his life. Every corner held a memory, every object a reminder of the man he had been. It was both comforting and agonizing, a bittersweet symphony of grief and love.

With trembling hands, you began to search through his belongings, desperate to find something that would make you feel less worse, if only for a moment. You opened drawers and cabinets, sifted through papers and trinkets, but nothing seemed to ease the ache in your heart.

when you stepped inside his bedroom, his presence hit you like a wave, so inoffensive yet so violent, strong, with the force to make you fall on your bum and being trapped by its force.

You felt a lump, the air in your lungs hot stuck and you couldn't help but gasp. You sat on the unmade bed, looking around, caressing the sheets as if him would step for his door and say sorry for what he did.

The room smelled like him, a wooed incandescent essence you would never forget.

When you lifted your eyes to the bed table, there were two frames. A picture of him and Sarah, and your heart stopped for a moment, thinking they were together now. The second held a photo of the two of you, taken on your wedding day, your smiles bright and hopeful.

Tears filled your eyes as you gazed at the images, the pain of loss washing over you anew.

You turned to see Tommy standing in the doorway, his expression mirroring your own somber sadness.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. "I thought I'd find you here."

You nodded, unable to speak as the weight of grief pressed down on you.

Tommy stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning the space with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. "It's hard to believe he's gone," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, trying to keep his composure.

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your loss. "Yeah," you managed, your voice hoarse with emotion. "It doesn't feel real."

Tommy wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer as you wept. His shoulder was a sturdy anchor, absorbing the weight of your sorrow.

"I know it feels like that," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the truth. "I just... I can't shake this feeling that I could have done something differently," you admitted, your voice choked with emotion.

Tommy gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You did everything you could," he said firmly. "Don't blame yourself for his mistakes."

You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his words. In that moment, you knew that no matter how much you mourned Joel's loss, you would always have Tommy by your side, a beacon of light in the darkness of your grief.

"you're the only one left I have from that life"

"You're mine." He smiled as his eyes glistened "you're my sister and the best one Joel brought home'

You chuckled, trying not to break down into pieces in front of him. "I-he was the love of my life'

Tommy's expression softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "I know," he said gently, his voice carrying the weight of shared loss.

All the memories you once braid alongside with Joel, engulfed in fire.

With Tommy's comforting presence beside you, you found the courage to speak the words that had been weighing heavily on your heart.

"It takes a lot of strength to do this, but... I forgive you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath, as your gaze to the photograph of Joel, his image frozen in time, a reminder of the man you had loved and lost. The ache in your chest persisted, but alongside it was a sense of release, a small flicker of peace amidst the storm of emotions.

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the bustling suburban neighborhood. Children playing in the streets, and the sound of cars and laughing filled the air.

As you walk down the sidewalk, you see a house that you recognize instantly. The house you and Joel shared, the place where so many memories were made. Your heart aches with a longing so intense it nearly takes your breath away.

Pushing open the front door, you step inside and are greeted by the comforting vanilla smell of home. You hear voices coming from the kitchen and follow the sound, your steps quickened with anticipation.

When you reached the kitchen, you saw Joel standing at the stove, cooking breakfast with a smile on his face. He looked younger, his hair missed the grey you got used to, and Sarah was sitting at the table, her eyes sparkling with joy as she was talking with Joel. The sight of them together, so alive and happy, brought tears to your eyes.

Joel looked up and saw you standing in the doorway. "Hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with warmth and love. "You're just in time for breakfast."

Sarah turns in her chair and grins at you. "Morning, Mom! Dad's making our favorite pancakes!"

The flood of emotions was overwhelming you couldn’t even breath. You took a step forward, tears streaming down your face as you struggle to find your voice. "Joel, Sarah," you whisper, your voice trembling.

Joel's smile faded the minute he saw the tears in your eyes. He stepped away from the stove and came to you, concern etched across his features. "What's wrong, honey?" he asks, his hands gently cupping your face. "Why are you crying?"

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. You reached out and pull both Joel and Sarah into a tight embrace, holding them as if they might disappear at any moment. "I missed you so much," you sob, your heart breaking with the realization that this moment, as perfect as it is, can't last.

Joel looked at you, his brow furrowed with worry. "Missed us? What are you talking about? We're right here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, trying to memorize every detail of his face. "I know," you whispered.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, her voice soft and soothing. "It's okay, Mom. We're here now."

+++

a/n: I know that you possibly waited for another ending, but my mind ended up in different places. So, just to clarify I could never forgive the words or actions Joel did in this story but since the story was tragic, I tried to portray what it was like for them to navigate a world that went into pieces after the outbreak and how they lost themselves in it, how the reader despise what he did but still had that love for him in her because sometimes, evern when we get hurt by someone we may have a bad habit to reach out that person, and finally, I thought the dream was a tragic way to end the story, with the reader having her moment with the Joel and Sarah since she knew that she and the Joel she was in love with died that night too. However, he would end up dead from beginning so, sorry. I also added the new year eve party because you know how the spirits are during those days, like the hope and renewal that joel was waiting for but the reader no. I don't know if I did a good job, but still, bye, thanks for coming here 💌

I tagged everyone who asked for part ii and some who read part one, sorry if I forgot someone, or if you want to be removed, you can tell me.

tags: @immyowndefender @persephone-girl @elliaze @ninasully @whirlwindrider29 @missladym1981 @negansbestie @hobiebrowns-wife @zpandaqueen @ilovetaquitosmmmm @midnightbabylon @southernbe @joeldjarin @hiroikegawa @nothingbutaspeckofdust

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heavenlyvision · 10 months ago

Text

Begrudgingly betrothed

Word count: 23.6k

Pairing: Kuai Liang x F!Reader

A/N: It is done, I am sorry it took so long but as you can see, it is my longest fic so far !!! I may have gotten carried away but I am quite proud of this monstrosity of a fic so, please enjoy <33

Summary: There has been arrangements for you to marry a good friend of yours and you weren’t included in the discussion, now you have to come to terms with wedding a man you don’t love, understand why you have been put in this situation and learn to enjoy leaving home and living somewhere new.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, virgin!reader, dirty talk, dry humping, thigh fucking, fingering, cunnilingus, minor dacryphilia, tiny bit of size kink (if you squint), tease!Kuai, mentions of panic attacks, reader has both a mother and father, I think that is all !! <3

MDNI

This is… not an ideal situation for you. You have just been made aware, not asked, made aware, of the fact that you will be marrying Kuai Liang of the Shirai Ryu. It has been arranged between your family and the clan, and they both left you out of the conversation. To be fair, it could be worse, you know Kuai and have for a bit now but you did not foresee this coming. The shock of the situation and neglect to include you in the conversation is what has you upset the most.

Also, the fact that Kuai didn’t mention this to you at all? Is odd, you are close with him and you’ve always thought of him as your good friend, so to have him not bring up being arranged to marry him, at all… is upsetting and suspicious. But in the end, it’s not like what you think matters, considering this has already been decided for you and you’d really rather not kick up a fuss. It wouldn’t end well for you.

Picking your battles is smart, it’s a philosophy you live by and going against your father… is a battle you would not win, not this time anyways. You can tell, when he looks you in the eyes to tell you what is happening, he is not concerned with your feelings, he is only telling you the reality of what is going to happen.

At least it is not a stranger but somehow it’s not that much better, since Kuai didn’t tell you. You suppose, he probably has his reasons but you can’t get over being passed around like property, it’s sad, it makes you sad that your father is casting you off so easily and it also makes you sad that Kuai is, compliant with it, at the very least.

“This is something that will be happening,” your fathers voice is stern, even.

You look him in the eyes, firm, resolute, “I am aware and I will not resist but that does not mean I am happy, and I will not lie and say I am either.”

He is unmoved by your voiced displeasure, “You will do whatever makes this process go smoothly and you will do what you are told.”

You feel, so much right now but your face remains emotionless, unwilling to break in front of your father, “Fine but I am going to tell you right now, to me, this is unforgivable.”

Your father raises a brow at you, feeling no sympathy, “I do not need your forgiveness, I have done nothing wrong.”

He is unbelievable, so you tell him, “I hope one day, you will see how wrong you are but for now I will live with the fact that you have cast off your only daughter to be wed without her consent.”

“And I hope one day, you understand my actions and realise you are being a petulant child,” he retorts.

You ignore him and his rude statement, “If there is nothing further to be discussed, I would like to leave.”

He waves a dismissive hand at you, “Yes, fine, leave.”

Standing to your feet, you leave the formal dining area. He had asked you there under false pretences, you had expected a nice afternoon chat with your dad over tea and instead he dropped this bomb on you. After you shut the door, you head towards the garden, needing fresh air and solace to collect your thoughts. This is going to be a… trying couple of weeks.

The garden is quiet, you sit on an old wooden bench, looking out towards all the greenery. It’s a nice garden, your mother has worked hard on tending to it, the flowers are beautiful, at least they usually are. None of the flowers are blooming at the moment, dead or dormant for the colder months. It fills you with a sense of melancholy to know you are not going to see this garden as frequently after your marriage.

You’re facing the entrance currently and so you can see when Kuai Liang is making his way towards you. Normally, you would be pleased to see him but after the news you’ve just received, you are… maybe not unhappy to see him but certainly not excited either and he can tell as much when he looks to you, his demeanour sheepish as he approaches.

“I’m guessing your father has told you,” he says, standing in front of you.

You look up to him, “You mean that we have new tea?” you say sardonically before continuing, “Or maybe you are referring to the fact that I am supposed to be marrying you within the next few weeks, something that has been in the works for a couple of weeks without my knowledge and not only that but the fact that this will result in me having to leave my home and move somewhere unfamiliar, with people I do not know well?” Your face displays no extreme emotions but your tone is filled with threatening politeness.

There’s a few moments of silence, Kuai only looks at you, not knowing what to say to make this better and to be quite frank, there is nothing that will make you feel better at this current moment.

Your expression changes to a more easy going one, “Yes, he told me.”

Kuai sighs, “He was meant to wait for me, I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Well, that is where you went wrong,” you wave a hand at him, explaining, “He has to be the one to do things first, he was never going to let you tell me this.” Your father has an odd complex, he has the only say in things and he will be the first one to inform others of what they are to do. ‘Orders’ come from him and him alone.

Distantly, you wonder if he told you first because it will be the last ‘order’ he can give you before you are given away to another man. This is gross, it feels like swapping handlers, you feel as though you have no freedom and that all the times your father had told you, that you were so much more than just a woman, just a future wife, were lies. Like he meant none of it.

It feels as though, the relationship with your father will never be the same again and coming to terms with that is going to be hard.

You pat the spot beside you on the bench, “Sit down.”

“Thank you,” Kuai replies, sitting cautiously beside you.

It’s awkward between the two of you, mostly because you can tell Kuai has more to say but you won’t even look in his direction, which is making it hard for him to gain an opening to talk. It feels mean, but you know what else feels mean? Getting betrothed to a friend and not being told, even though he knew it was happening.

You sigh beside him, “Kuai, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” he doesn’t hesitate in answering.

“What about you and Harumi?” You were pretty sure they had something going on between the two of them.

He’s looking at you, “What about her?”

Your eyes stay forward but you really want to look at him and roll them dramatically, “What do you mean ‘what about her’? Everyone was pretty sure you two were going to wed.”

He turns his own face forward, looking out to the garden, “We are just friends, nothing more.”

“Be honest with yourself Kuai, I don’t want to be the reason you miss your chance at love.” You feel empty, this isn’t how you wanted to marry and it will suck even more if Kuai doing this causes him to miss out on love.

He is unconcerned by your hesitations, his tone even when he speaks, “I do not feel that way, not for Harumi.”

“But you feel that way for someone?” He doesn’t reply, “My concern is still warranted then.” You finish, his silence a clear indication that he feels some type of way for someone.

He wavers for a moment, going to say something before deciding against it.

You talk before him, making yourself clear, “If you still want to go through with this, in spite of your feelings for someone else, then that is fine. I will do whatever is asked of me but I want you to know… I think you should marry the person you love.”

Kuai stands up from the bench, his back to you, “Your concern is noted.” Is all he says before he walks away.

You’re left in the garden by yourself, Kuai has walked off, assumedly leaving for the day, he seemed to be getting annoyed at your pushing. The mention of him not marrying the person he loves probably displeasing him, which is fair but he also has the power to stop this from happening. This is all very confusing for you, no one even told you it was happening and now it seems like both your father and Kuai are neglecting to tell you everything. Neglecting to tell you the things that would have all of this making sense. Typical men.

At least the air around you is fresh, cold, but fresh and it’s helping to calm you down. Both the conversations between Kuai and your father not going well has upset you but at least the cool breeze is relieving, it’s what you need to gather yourself before moving forward. You’ll just have to look on the bright side… which you will do, when you find out what the bright side is. Because so far there doesn’t seem to be anything bright about this situation but maybe that is just your bad mood talking.

You stay in the garden for a while, thinking about all the things that are about to change for you. The actual wedding won’t be for a few weeks but that doesn’t mean you get to stay here; your father informed you that you have one week left here and then you are to be moved to the Shirai Ryu village. An upsetting fact but you will cope, at least you will know some of the people there. And by some, you mean Tomas, Raiden and Harumi, everyone else is a stranger but it’s better than nothing.

₊ ⊹

When you head back to the house, everyone is waiting at the dinner table for you and by everyone, you mean Kuai is also sat at the table. He had stayed, apparently and now you have to sit through a very uncomfortable dinner with your mother, father and Kuai – your soon to be husband.

Sighing lightly and mostly to yourself, you move to your usual spot, sat across from Kuai, your mother and father sit at either end of the table. Judging by the atmosphere of the room already, this is going to be a long dinner.

Looking to Kuai, you can’t read much about how he is feeling. He is stoic and looks to be calm, but you can’t tell if he really feels that way or if everything he is feeling, is occurring internally. His eyes lock onto yours and you hold his gaze, wanting to challenge him, his eyes are unmoving and firm. You keep looking at him but you need to blink, you try holding out for as long as you can before your eyes start to water and you have to close them.

When you look back at him, one of his brows are raised humorously at you, entertained by your poor attempt at a staring competition. It wasn’t your initial intent to try and start a staring contest, only wanting to display your irritation for this situation but now you’re even more annoyed that you couldn’t get him to blink before you. You aren’t even convinced he’s blinked yet, weirdo.

Scowling lightly, you look away from him and down to your food. Your parents have been talking but you haven’t really been listening, all your attention was on Kuai Liang and his stupid face. Why he has stayed eludes you but you’re sure you will find out soon enough, it’s too late for him to leave now, he’ll probably stay the night and he’ll probably want to speak with you again before he leaves, presumably tomorrow.

“Are you paying attention to me?” Your fathers voice booms from the head of the table.

Your posture shoots up and your head flicks in his direction to look at him, you don’t know how to tell him you weren’t. He seems very angry, he’s never raised his voice like that to you before, his behaviour is starting to distress you.

Kuai speaks for you, trying to help, “It was my fault, I was distracting her.”

Your father is displeased though, you can tell by the way the corner of his eye twitches slightly and how his mouth pulls up, he goes to say something but your mother talks over him, “Now, I think that is quite enough, let’s eat and they can talk later, hmm?” She poses it like a question but it isn’t one, she’s telling him what to do right now and he concedes, like he most often does when it comes to your mother.

Dinner is silent and uncomfortable and you want to rip your eyes out of your head because this is the worst thing you’ve had to sit through. Last time you felt like this was when your parents had been arguing for weeks straight and then suddenly stopped, choosing to punish each other silently instead… which was somehow, way worse than the yelling and bickering.

You chance a glance up to Kuai and he’s already looking at you, his eyes are sympathetic to you and how uncomfortable you must feel but you feel worse for him. This isn’t his house or his family, it must be incredibly painful to try and eat dinner with a family that is currently annoyed with each other.

Taking initiative, you push back from your seat, “I’d like to talk with Kuai now, privately.” You squint at your father, frustration with him palpable.

“Thank your mother for dinner first,” he mumbles out.

Turning to your mother, you graciously say, “Thank you for dinner, it was lovely.”

“You’re very welcome,” she smiles and scrunches her nose at you affectionately.

As you round behind her chair, you kiss the top of her head before grabbing Kuai’s hand and tugging him off after you, he makes sure to thank your parents as he’s pulled along. You don’t look back and continue dragging him behind you, leading him to your room. It will be quiet there and you can maybe get some answers out of him.

“Where are you taking me?” He’s being pliant, letting you continue to lead him, even though he very easily could get you to stop in your tracks.

You try ignoring him but he tugs back a bit, showing you just how easily he could stop complying with you. Groaning and without looking back at him, you say, “My room.”

He stops all at once and your back collides with his chest. He doesn’t move though, not even taking a step back from you falling into him. He leans down behind you, mouth next to your ear, “Is that appropriate?”

His voice is deep and sets you on edge, a shiver threatening to run down your spine at the low timbre of his voice. You suppress it as best you can before turning your face to the side, both of you close like this. You thought he would pull away from you but he doesn’t, he doesn’t move an inch. His eyes are lidded as he looks at you, it feels like his gaze is burning through you.

Your head flicks forward, not able to handle the way he was looking at you just now, all the blood in your body feels like it’s rushed to your face. He pulls away from you, a hand landing on your shoulder. You gather yourself quickly and tell him, “It is appropriate, I have questions and you have answers.”

One of your hands grabs his from your shoulder and you walk off again, he trails silently behind you this time, letting you drag him around. His hand is very warm, warmer than before, he’d be handy to have close by this winter. You suppose that could be a bright side, you’re marrying a pyromancer in the middle of winter. It’s not much but the thought makes you smile.

When you approach your room, you open the door to let him in first and tell him to sit anywhere. You follow in behind him, shutting the door and turning to look at him. He is awkwardly standing in the middle of your room; he seems to be having trouble deciding where to sit. You watch him struggle for a bit, before he seemingly decides to just stand.

Laughing to yourself, you walk up to him and push on his chest, he walks back until his legs hit the edge of your bed, “Sit.” You tell him.

He sits down, carefully, eyes looking up into yours, “You are demanding.”

You roll your eyes at him and move across the room, when you come back, you’re dragging a chair you had kept in the corner. You place it in front of him and sit down, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes watch the way your legs move before looking back to you.

Kuai’s frame is still, not moving and very clearly not relaxed. It’s funny, looking at this large man sit uncomfortably on your bed. He shuffles a bit from side to side, trying to make the best of his situation.

“Do you want the chair?” You ask, taking pity on him.

He looks to you, “I am fine…”

You get up anyways and move over to him, offering your hand to pull him up. He takes it but pulls you down beside him instead, your outer thigh is pressed against his. You jostle against him a bit, the mattress bouncing lightly with your weight and the force of Kuai’s pull.

You pull your hand from his and gently slap at his shoulder, “What was that for?”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Whatever, go sit in the chair,” you huff out.

“No, I am comfortable here,” he says, amused as you sigh exasperatedly at him.

You cave, letting him do whatever he wants, “Fine.”

“What did you want to know?” He asks, redirecting the conversation.

Your posture slouches a bit, already wanting the conversation to be over, “Why didn’t you tell me? That I am to marry you?” you pause for a moment before continuing, “You have known for weeks now, I see you every week and have done for a while now. Did you not think this was something I would have liked to know about?”

He thinks for a moment, on how to phrase his words, “You deserved to know… but I did not have much of a choice.”

That confuses you, so you clarify, “In getting engaged to me?”

He shakes his head as he answers quickly, “No, no that is my choice… it was not my choice to keep it from you, your father decided that.” He doesn’t look thrilled by your fathers choice.

Your voice feels small, “You could have told me anyways.”

“No, I could not have. You are amazing…” he places a hand on your knee and squeezes,

You squint at him, “I feel a ‘but’ coming.”

“But, you are… confrontational?” He sees the way you frown at him when he describes you that way and corrects himself, “Or maybe curious is a better word… you would have wanted to speak with your father as soon as I told you.”

Looking away, you mumble out to him, “If you were worried about my father… I would not have told him, that you told me.”

“It was important to him that I say nothing, he wanted to speak with you… well, together but I suppose he decided against that in the end.” He’s trying to be gentle with you, his voice warm.

Facing him again, your eyes are filled with emotions and you can’t help it, “I am still very confused, he… he never had any intentions of marrying me off.”

“All I can tell you is that he does now, I don’t know what changed for him but I had heard he was looking for… possible suitors for you,” Kuai’s face scrunches up in distaste.

Your voice shakes with your question, “He was going to marry me off to… anyone?”

“I am sure not just anyone… but he was looking, yes.”

Your eyes well with tears, not only are you being given away without regard for your own feelings but he wasn’t even going to… he wasn’t even going to marry you to someone you knew.

Kuai grabs the side of your face tenderly, forcing eye contact between the two of you. A tear slips down your cheek and his thumb rubs it away, stroking your cheek gently. “I know… I know you may be upset with me and maybe what I’ve done is wrong but I offered– I insisted that I be the one you marry.”

Kuai marrying you, Kuai asking to marry you, is a kindness. A favour he is doing for you, to prevent a marriage between yourself and a stranger and as upset as you are with him, you are more upset with your father. Especially since, right now it feels as though Kuai is your only ally.

Your lip quivers a bit, trying to hold back more tears. He shushes you and pulls you to him, his warm arms wrapping around your body and holding you close, keeping you safe. One of his hands rests on the back of your head, stroking it, attempting to comfort and calm you. You reciprocate his hug, wrapping your own arms around his frame and pulling him closer, he feels sturdy and reliable.

“It’s going to be okay, I have you,” he mumbles into the top of your head and you believe him.

He holds you until you pull away from him first, once you’re no longer worried about crying, you sit back properly and wipe at your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for… I know this is hard for you,” his expression is sympathetic to you.

“I just… wish he had explained his reasoning more, maybe then it wouldn’t feel so out of the blue,” you sigh out before flopping back on the mattress, tired from the events of today. Your forearm covers your eyes as you lay down.

Kuai hums out to you in mindless agreement but doesn’t say anything further, his lack of a real response confuses you and when you uncover your eyes, you see he’s already looking at you. His eyes move up your stretched out body, silently watching you.

“Kuai Liang,” you call out to him, louder than your last sentence.

The shock of your voice contrasted against the quiet room has his eyes flicking back to yours, “What did you say?”

Something occurs to you and you sit up beside him again, he’s surprised by your sudden movements, eyes widening slightly. You turn to him completely, one of your legs crossed on the mattress.

“Kuai…” you hesitate to ask him your question but he hums at you to continue, “Am I… are we going…” he raises a brow at you, confused as to what you’re trying to ask him, “Do we have to kiss? For the ceremony?” You finally manage to get out.

He stifles a chuckle at your question, “Not if you don’t want to, it’s not necessary… you know that.”

Your mouth pulls to the side, considering things for a moment. He is right, it isn’t necessary but now you’re a little concerned about your future and what it means to be married to Kuai, “I haven’t… I’ve not been kissed.”

“Ever?” He seems taken aback by your confession.

You huff out, “I didn’t tell you to get made fun of, Kuai,” You told him because you’re worried about later, you’ve not had a lot of firsts and if you marry him, you want to respect that, you won’t be looking at others while married to him. You’re just, you’re in a predicament right now.

Before you can convey your concerns in a sensical manner though, he asks, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You’re shocked by his offer, and also tempted. You suppose you aren’t really going to have many opportunities at intimacy after the marriage, not unless you ask Kuai, the thought has your face burning up.

You feel shy, “Do you mind?”

“Not in the slightest,” he assures you, “Though, if you want me to kiss you, you’ll have to ask for it.”

His words and demeanour set you on edge, his eyes are watching you very closely. Watching how you fidget, “Would you kiss me?” You feel embarrassed and very hot in the face but you add, “Please?”

His expression turns smug and it makes your heart skip a beat, “Since you asked so nicely,” he turns to face you properly and reaches forward, one of his hands grasps your face, the other resting on your knee.

He leans in but you hesitate and he holds still, “I don’t know what I am doing.”

“That’s fine,” His breath fans across your lips, “I will show you.”

Is he trying to kill you? He might kill you, his words and his proximity to you, it’s setting your skin on fire, “Okay.”

“Good,” he murmurs, before leaning in again. You don’t move away this time and he presses his lips to yours.

He’s warm and his lips are soft, you mimic what he’s doing. The kiss is light and tender, he seems to be feeling you out, getting a sense for you. Your hands reach out to him, of their own provocation and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. He hums against you, his own hand on your knee is gripping your skin tighter.

He tilts your head to the side, the hand on your knee wanders higher, landing on your thigh and squeezing there. The grip he has further up your thigh makes you gasp and he licks into your mouth, the feeling new and overwhelming. He’s overpowering all of your senses and an involuntary whimper is pulled from your chest at the way he’s kissing you.

He grunts back at you, his thumb pushes into the hinge of your jaw, forcing your mouth open more. Giving himself more access to you, he’s taking your breath away, kissing you dizzy. You want to rub your thighs together for friction but with the way you’re sitting, it’s not possible. His palm against your leg is hot and it keeps moving further up, now grasping the fattest part of your thigh.

A moan slips past your lips to his and you pull him closer to you, he groans into your mouth. The kiss is hot and needy now, borderline messy. He pulls back momentarily, only to push your back into the mattress. His form follows right after, holding himself over the top of you. His lips are on yours before you can form a coherent thought, his tongue in your mouth again.

His hand grips at your thigh, pulling it upwards and resting it against his hip, not moving more than that. You reach up and tug at his shirt, pulling him onto you, your leg crooks around his side and pulls his hips to yours. The contact has a whiney gasp pulled from you and Kuai fights every urge in his bones to grind down into you.

Your arms loop around his neck again and you get lost in his kiss, in the closeness of his body. He groans deeply against you, as if he’s in pain. The sound shocks you and you pull back from him, your foreheads resting against each other as you huff shallow breaths.

“Are you okay?” You’re worried you did something wrong, or that you’ve hurt him somehow.

He shakes his head against yours, “Mm fine, you didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice is strained.

You sit for a second longer before you realise what had happened and it sets your face alight, “I’m sorry,” you rush out.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He repeats, voice still strained, laced with lust.

You had grinded up into him absentmindedly, your mind dazed and looking for friction, resulting in you rutting up into him without thinking. His cock is firm and heavy against you, pulsing with need.

You go to apologise again but he puts his mouth on yours, silencing what you were going to say with a deep kiss. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead on yours again, “You did nothing wrong.” He reiterates.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, you have nothing to compare it to but you have a feeling that kisses like that are hard to come by. “You’re a really good kisser.”

He looks down at you, amused by your comment, “How would you know?”

“Should I find someone else to kiss? To compare it to?” You tease him.

His gaze is firm, “No, you’re going to be my wife, the only person you will be kissing in the future… will be me.”

The words are possessive, and you think if you weren’t so delirious from his lips on yours, you would argue back against him but at the moment, you think you’re okay with never kissing anyone else, “Okay.”

He smirks at you, enjoying the look in your eyes. They’re wet and needy and he’s getting a lot of pleasure from seeing you like this, for him.

His lips are shiny from the kiss you shared and you can’t look away, wanting so badly for him to put his mouth back on yours, “Can you kiss me again?”

He doesn’t move and only looks at you, “I can.”

A few beats pass by in the quiet room, the only sound you’re able to recognise is the rapid beating of your own heart pumping blood through your head. He still doesn’t move, just watches you, you can’t tell if he’s having an internal conflict or if he’s teasing you. It’s starting to frustrate you though, and to ‘punish’ him for his inaction, the leg you have around his waist pulls him into you harder. Grinding him down into you, the feeling has you gasping, your breath stuttering in your chest.

Kuai groans at you but he also frowns, his hips dig into yours harder and pins your lower half to the bed. He gives you dark look, “Don’t.”

You don’t reply to him, your chest moving quickly with your huffed breaths. He watches you and the way you’re breathless for him, the look on your face and the warmth of your pussy through all the layers has him salivating. He is barely hanging on by a thread, his sanity shredding the longer he has his cock pressed tight against you.

His forehead drops to rest on top of yours, his lips ghosting your own, you move to press your mouth to his. A light kiss, it’s only a peck, it’s all he gives you but you want so much more, you’re hooked on his mouth, drunk on his kisses.

You almost beg him, “Kuai, please–”

He cuts you off with his mouth on yours, his lips urgent and needy, the kiss hot and heavy. Your brain buzzes, lost in the way he licks into your mouth, at the way one of his hands grab the plush skin of your thigh, his other lightly gripping your neck; holding you steady for him. He’s kissing you how he wants too, deeply and fully, taking over all your thoughts, filling your brain with only thoughts of him.

You can’t help the way you throb with need for him, your leg gripping him tighter, wanting him so much closer even though he is as close as he’s going to get. He hums into the kiss at the way you’ve started to grind into him again, your own noises shared in the kiss, small whimpers and quiet whines that he swallows down. Greedy for the small noises you’re making for him.

When he parts from you, you’re both breathless again, your shallow breaths intermingling together with your proximity. Kuai is giving off a thick heat, his skin warm to the touch, his head ducks into your neck and licks you. Ending with a small nip to your skin, he rests his head in the crook of your neck, breathing you in and attempting to catch his breath.

With the way you move under him and the way your leg grips him tight to hold his lower half close, he is going to fall apart on top of you, his head full of depraved thoughts. Wanting so badly to fuck you into the mattress but holding himself back.

“Kuai,” you call to him again.

He groans into your neck, “Shh– just, I need a second.”

You’re confused by what he means, a moment for what? All you want to tell him is how badly you need him right now. “I want you,” your voice is small, as if being quieter will negate the fact that you didn’t give him the moment of silence he asked for.

His hips buck into yours involuntarily, “Fuck–”

A gasp is pulled from you at the friction, Kuai pulls his head from your neck suddenly, pulling back to look at you. His eyes are intense and you turn your head to the side so you feel less exposed to him but his hand grabs the side of your face and pulls it back so you’re looking at him again. He doesn’t move or speak; he’s just enjoying the expression on your face again.

His hips grind down into you and a small moan exits you, you’re unable to supress the sound even if you tried. Kuai’s thumb is on your chin, pulling slightly to ensure any noise you might make comes out.

He slowly grinds into you, the noises you’d rather he not hear slipping from you. You’re burning with need for him, pussy throbbing for more. His brows are pinched together, his breathing huffed, biting his lip to keep the noises that threaten to spill from him suppressed.

Your vision is blurry, tears in your waterline from how badly you want him to do more to you, your eyes pleading with him to just give you more. His hand moves from your chin and his mouth is on yours again, kissing you intensely, his mouth is hot. Everything about him is hot, his temperature so high he’s heating you up.

He rips his mouth from yours and pulls himself up completely, his hands removed from your body and resting himself up on his knees. You’re bewildered by the loss of him and whine, his eyes are on fire as he looks at you below him. Hands clenching into fists beside him, itching to touch you again, to touch your naked skin, to touch every inch of your body.

He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself, “I think we should stop.”

“Why?” Your brows are drawn up at him.

He sighs, “You asked for a kiss and I delivered, we should leave it at that.”

You start pulling yourself off the mattress, weight held up on your elbows, “And if I want to ask for more?”

His eyes hold a warning for you, “Do not.”

You go to argue against him but there are loud footsteps walking to your room, ones you are all too familiar with. Your father is making his way to your room, you look to Kuai with wide eyes and he moves off the bed swiftly, adjusting himself in his pants and smoothing himself out. He’s trying to make it look like he wasn’t just dry humping you, while kissing you stupid.

Moving off the bed, you get to your feet in front of him, he smooths out your hair and clothes for you, his hand holds the side of your face for a moment and his thumb runs over your bottom lip softly. He’s caressing you gently, lost in you for a moment before your fathers loud knocks are suddenly heard on your bedroom door.

Kuai pulls away from you, coming back to himself at the sound of your fathers fist pounding on the wood. Walking around Kuai, you head to the door and open it slightly, enough to see your father but not enough for him to see Kuai further in the room, behind you.

Looking up to your father, you ask, “Yes?”

“I am looking for Kuai Liang, is he still with you?” Your fathers eyes try scanning behind you but there is nothing to see.

“No, he left a bit ago, maybe he is in the bathroom?” You offer as an alternative, trying to get him to leave and go the other way, away from your room.

He hums at you, considering you for a moment, “You know I love you right?”

“I– it doesn’t feel like it right now,” you tell him honestly, your trust in him completely shattered after today.

He looks tired, just so exhausted and like he might apologise, before his facial expression returns to its usual firm manner, “If you see Kuai Liang, let him know, I wish to speak with him.”

“Will do,” you agree hastily, hoping to end this interaction quickly.

He eyes you carefully and then eventually walks away; he seems to have so much to say but doesn’t know how to say it. It isn’t your job to force him to talk, though you might have to if you ever want to know his motivations behind all this. Whatever, it can wait until you aren’t a mess from Kuai.

Shutting the door, you turn around to see Kuai already moving for it to leave and find your father, “You’re going already?”

He pauses and turns to you, “Why?” And then leaning in close, he asks, “Would you like me to stay?” His tone is smug, expression cool and self-pleased.

You look away from him, “If I said yes?”

He sighs, hands coming up to rest on either side of your face, forehead leaning to yours, “I would like to stay.” He takes a moment, “But… I should talk with your father.” He pulls his head away from yours, still holding you in his hands.

Your face scowls at the mention of your father and Kuai’s thumb presses between your brows, massaging to release the tension. You relax your face but are still ultimately pouting at the prospect of him leaving.

He looks at you with a raised brow and you concede to him, “Alright, but try and ask him why it’s suddenly become so important I marry someone.”

“Yes ma’am,” he jokes, eyes lingering on you for a moment.

You aren’t sure why he’s looking at you so seriously but you understand when he leans in and kisses you so very gently, it’s short and only a little more than a peck but it makes your heart swell at how careful he is with you.

He hums when pulling back, “I don’t know if you have been told, but you’re expected to come back with me tomorrow.”

You’re taken aback, “I thought I had one more week?”

“I had asked for it but he changed his mind, earlier today.” He pulls back from you, giving you room to process.

You sigh deeply, feeling empty at this point, “Today has been too much, I’m not sure how to react at this point.”

“I’ll make you as comfortable as I possibly can, I want you to be happy there,” his tone is concerned, genuinely wanting you to be happy with him and with the Shirai Ryu.

You snark out, mostly joking, “I want to have, free will.”

“I will give you as much as I can manage,” he promises.

You tease, leaning towards him, “But kissing others–”

“–Is not on the table.” His tone is stern, expression unamused.

You smile at him sweetly, “I was joking, I will respect our marriage fully and completely”

“Fully and completely? And what exactly does that entail?” His expression is suggestive as he looks at you, subtly moving closer.

You feel nervous but can’t stop yourself from saying, “And if I said anything you wanted?”

“Then I would say, I’d like to test that,” His eyes are dark and lids low as he looks at you, not moving to touch you again but so obviously wanting to.

Your face grows warm under his stare, his voice has a lilt to it that sends shivers down your spine, “Didn’t you have to leave?”

He chuckles lowly at you before grabbing your hand and holding it firmly, “I want you to know… that I will be with you every step of the way and that you can talk to me… about anything.” He squeezes your hand once, in confirmation.

You squeeze his hand back and smile at him kindly, “Thank you… and you know… if you ever have anything you need to talk about, I am here to listen.”

Kuai takes several moments to look at you, and then decides he’s been holding off on leaving you for too long, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You don’t really know what to say, you want him to stay longer but know he probably shouldn’t, “Yes, we will talk tomorrow, hopefully you will have more answers for me,” you jest, smiling up to him.

“Hopefully,” he squeezes your hand once more, assuring you that he will try to get more information. He leaves after that, going to catch up with your father.

And now, you’re left alone and wanting Kuai. You miss the weight of his body on top of yours, you’re also feeling confused about your feelings for him. He makes you feel warm and the way he kissed you has you wanting to obey his every will. But you are also confused about his feelings for you, his eyes seem so honest but he had said he had feelings for someone else just earlier today and now you aren’t sure what to make of that.

Maybe, you just need to sleep and move on from today, but currently, you are feeling better towards this marriage. Having spent some time with Kuai and spoken with him more casually, you feel better about things. Knowing he had good intentions behind his actions puts you at ease, clearly, since you just about let him hump you into submission.

It’s a little embarrassing that you were about to beg him to fuck you when you hadn’t ever been kissed before, let alone had sex but he has an effect on you that you’ve never experienced and even though you’ve known him for a while now, he’s never been this forward with you. Feeling desire for someone you consider a friend is weird right? You aren’t sure, you’ve never really desired anyone before, not like this.

There is too much swirling around your head. Ranging from, Kuai and his soft lips, his firm hands, his warm skin, his hips grinding into you, along with thoughts of his grip on your thigh, his eyes as he looked at you, his restrained manner of handling you. All your thoughts are currently of him… you need to sleep this off, before your thoughts become more depraved and you hunt him down and ask him so nicely to take you, right now.

Yeah, it’s probably a good idea to turn in for the night.

₊ ⊹

You spend said night tossing and turning in your bed, waking up every few hours just to roll over and be upset that you’ve woken up before an appropriate time, again. When you finally do fall asleep at some ungodly hour in the morning, you’re startled awake what feels like only a few moments later by knocking on your door. You groan out at whoever is there, not ready to get up, not when you had finally fallen asleep.

They don’t knock again, instead just letting themselves into your room, you peak a look and can see it’s your mother. Groaning at her again, you roll over, shuffling further into your sheets; you are not ready to start the day.

“Come on, it’s time to get up,” her tone is soft, trying to coax you out of bed with kindness.

Another groan, “I don’t want to get up, I am tired.”

She sits on the side of your bed and places a hand soothingly on your back, “You… you’re leaving today.”

“I know, Kuai told me last night,” you grumble at her, mood worsening at remembering the sudden change in plans.

Her hand rubs circles into your back, “I couldn’t change your fathers mind, I am sorry.”

It occurs to you, that your mother probably knows what has changed with your father to incur this sudden behavioural change. You shoot up in your bed and face her, “Why is he doing this?”

She hesitates, eyes sad, “He just wants the best for you.”

Your gaze scrutinises her, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“I am telling you everything you need to know,” she replies, smiling at you sombrely before her face changes to a more enthusiastic expression, “Now, come on! time to gather your stuff.”

You flop back onto the mattress at her words, grumbling to yourself, you had forgotten that part of leaving would include… packing.

“It isn’t so bad, take your important belongings and some clothes, your father and I can bring over the rest after the marriage.” She pats your shoulder a couple times and moves around your room, looking for bags to put your stuff in.

Moving to watch her, you realise she’s trying very hard to make this easy on the both of you. Attempting to keep her expression easy and tone joyful but you can tell she is sad you are leaving home, especially so soon.

Sighing, you get up to help her, the least you can do is give her the same courtesy. You decide to offer her some words of comfort, “I will be okay you know? I like Kuai Liang, he is kind and I know some of the people in the Shirai Ryu already. I will adjust.”

She pauses what she’s doing and looks to you, “I know dear, I raised you well,” she flexes her arm at you jokingly, “Be strong and keep your head up. I know you will continue to fill me with pride,” She moves closer to you and places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing once, “You always have.”

Her words have you fighting back tears, you don’t want her to see you cry, you replace the look on your face with a strained smile, “I will do my best.”

“That’s all you ever need to do,” She pulls you into her for a hug, holding you in her embrace for a moment. You aren’t sure which one of you needs this more.

When she pulls back, she claps her hands together once and rubs them, “Alright, let’s get stuck into this.”

Rolling your eyes and supressing a smile you ask, “Where should I start, boss?”

She chuckles at you brightly and directs you on where to begin. It doesn’t take all that long to collect your most important stuff and pack it away. Anything left behind today will be picked up at a later date and even though you’ve not packed everything away, your room looks significantly more bare compared to before.

Your mother stops and looks around, “Well, I think that is about everything you will need for now.”

“Yeah I think this is good,” you smile at her.

She heads for your door, “You still have a bit of time before you have to leave, maybe have a nap, you look very tired.”

Shooting her a light-hearted glare you say, “Wow, I wonder why.”

She just smiles cheekily at you before leaving your room, presumedly going to tend to her plants, the garden may be wilting but she has a greenhouse with copious amounts of flourishing plants and flowers. The winter doesn’t stop her green thumb and it never has.

You listen to her advice though and the first thing you do when alone is get back into bed, not even making it the whole way up, just sort of flopping onto it and staying there. You’ve made yourself comfortable now, there is no way you’re getting up, not unless there’s a fire or something.

A few moments of peace is all you get before there is another knock on your door, “Are you awake?” Speaking of fire, Kuai has come to see you.

You huff face down into the mattress and mumble out, “You can come in.”

“What? I can’t hear you,” his tone is amused.

Grunting you hold your head up so your mouth isn’t pressed into the sheets, “I said, you can come in.” Your tone is exasperated as your head collapses back onto the bed.

The door opens and closes behind you and Kuai stifles a laugh at your body slumped on your mattress, not even bothering to make it to the pillows further up.

“Are you okay?” He asks tentatively, a little worried you’re going to snap at him.

Your words are mumbled again, “Mm fine.”

Kuai moves beside you and flops down too, laying on his back, “I spoke with your father last night,” that catches your attention and your head turns to the side to look at him, “Don’t get excited, he didn’t tell me anything new, just that it was important to him and that it is what’s best for you.”

You scowl at him, unimpressed with your fathers answer, “He’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“Starting?” Kuai asks playfully.

Your scowl deepens, “Whatever, leave me alone. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“I wonder why that is,” he says smugly, knowing it has something to do with him.

Turning back to the mattress, you hide your face from him, looking at him for too long is becoming your weakness. You can’t help it, he’s the one who looks so kissable, you might need therapy or something, these cannot be normal thoughts to have for a friend. Though, making out with a friend is also not normal? But then again, he is also your soon to be husband, this is all so frustrating.

Suddenly, you remember what you remembered last night, he’s in love with someone else but is marrying you out of kindness. He’s preventing you from marrying a stranger because of his concern for you but now you’re concerned about his happiness. But if he doesn’t like you, why did he kiss you like that? Was he just… in the mood or was he in the mood for you? GODS! men.

You must be grumbling to yourself out loud without realising because Kuai laughs beside you, amused at your internal conflict, “What are you worried about now?”

Sitting up, you tell him, “You actually,” he raises a brow at you, as if to say ‘oh?’, “You said you love someone–”

“–I never said I love someone, you did,” he interjects, also moving to sit up and face you.

You retort back, “But you implied it,” he keeps his mouth shut this time, knowing you’re right, “I am just confused? Worried? I mean… we kissed last night–”

“–I think it was a bit more than a kiss,” he interrupts again.

You look at him and don’t hesitate to say, “…Right, well that kind of adds to my point then doesn’t it?”

“And what is your point?” He’s pushing you to say what you mean.

“If you stopped interrupting me I could get there,” your eyebrow raises at him in admonishment, “I am just… I guess I’m just confused about what you’re feeling… because you love someone else… but then you…” you look away from him, “…You kissed me like that last night and I don’t know how to feel… I don’t know how you feel.” Embarrassment is seeping into every fibre of your being, feeling really exposed at being honest with him.

He intakes a deep breath, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to.”

Turning your head back, you shoot him a pointed look, telling him that what he’s offered is not enough, “Kuai–”

He stops you before you get even more annoyed at him, “–I love you.”

You’re shocked and have no idea how to react to that, “I–”

“–I kissed you like that because I love you and have for a while now,” he’s looking right at you, unashamed by his feelings, “I am not expecting you to feel the same, I am only telling you so you worry less, so you don’t think I am the type of man who kisses someone like that for no reason.” His words are filled with emotion but also stated as fact, he’s informing you of his feelings, not asking anything of you in return.

You heart stutters in your chest and you look like a deer caught in headlights, he doesn’t need you to feel the same but his sudden confession has put the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You calm your nerves to tell him how you feel, “I am not sure how I feel towards you–”

Kuai doesn’t let you finish your sentence, “–I told you; I do not need you to–”

“¬–Could you stop interrupting me?” You look at him exasperatedly, getting tired of not finishing your thoughts, “I am not sure how I feel towards you but I know that I like you… more than a friend, and I wouldn’t have let you kiss me like that if I didn’t.” Your gaze averts his, looking anywhere but his eyes.

He’s smiling to himself, “You like me?”

“I mean… obviously…” you pout slightly.

He hums at you and moves closer, pulling you to his chest by the back of your head, he holds you against him, “I can work with that.”

If he touched your face he would be able to feel the way you’re burning up, his confession and your own making you nervous and embarrassed. This is certainly not how you thought the past couple days would have unfolded but as Kuai holds you to him, you can’t help but feel okay right now.

You snuggle into him slightly, your arms wrapping around his torso to properly be held by him, “I am still feeling uncertain about the future… but right now, I think I am good,” your words are mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

His chest rumbles under you, humming, “Whatever you are still worried about, I will be with you… every step of the way.”

Pulling your head back, you rest your chin on his chest and ask, “Promise?”

He looks down to you and without hesitation says, “Promise.”

His actions make more sense to you now and that fills you with relief, even if it also frightens you somewhat. Right now, is okay though, being held by him and being assured he’ll be with you, it makes everything okay… just for now, in this quiet moment between the two of you, everything is okay.

Raising yourself up, you push your face into his neck, feeling the urge to be closer to him, your arms also wrap around his neck. He pulls you to him by your middle, holding you firmly. You nuzzle into him, he’s warm and smells really good, he’s making you dizzy.

“You are really warm,” you breath out, words spoken into his skin. It almost feels like his temperature rises as you tell him.

His grip on you tightens momentarily, “You are torturing me.”

You don’t move from him, too comfortable and cosy to pull back, “How?”

Your breath tickles the sensitive skin on his neck and a suppressed shiver runs down his spine, a noise getting caught in his chest, he doesn’t reply to you though; choosing to ignore your question instead.

The sudden urge to cuddle further into his neck hits you but you don’t want to push his boundaries, so you start to pull away from him, mumbling out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s not what I meant,” his hands move to hold your face, stilling you so you don’t pull away from him anymore.

Your heart feels like it might beat right out of your chest, Kuai is looking you over, eyes examining your face, flitting over your lips carefully. You want him to kiss you, especially since all your thoughts have been consumed by the memory of him kissing you, how overwhelming it was, how good it felt.

His thumb strokes high over your cheek bone, hands gentle with you and so warm, adding to the heat already resting under your skin. The look in his eyes is the same as last night, the way he looked at you just before your father knocked on your door, a little lost in you. He moves towards you and you prepare yourself for his lips on yours but he moves his head to your neck, nuzzling into your skin.

You feel a little let down at the lack of his lips on yours until you gasp at the way he has latched onto your neck, not sucking hard enough to leave a mark but enough to have you reacting viscerally to him – not that it seems all that difficult for him to pull reactions from you anyways.

He moves to another patch of skin, leaving open mouthed, wet kisses on your neck, nipping every now and again just to hear the small sounds you let out and the way you twitch against him. Your hands grab at his back for leverage and your head tilts to the side giving him more access. One of his hands grips at your flesh, fingers digging into your thigh and massaging, his other hand on your back, keeping you in place for him.

A sigh passes your lips at the way his tongue licks up the length of your neck, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling. He hums in satisfaction to himself at your involuntary reactions, enjoying every second of playing with you.

He pulls your shirt to the side to reveal your shoulder, his mouth kisses along it, giving the same treatment he gave your neck. Though, his nips last a bit longer, not afraid to leave marks where he knows no one will see, his teeth graze your skin and it has a small whimper leaving you. His chest rumbles with a groan, not quite reaching the air but vibrating through him all the same.

Your quiet whimpers turn into a surprised moan when he bites your shoulder, his teeth digging in momentarily before he retreats, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I got carried away.” His voice is strained, his mind clouded with the sounds you make, the feel of your soft skin, he’s realising slowly that maybe he should stop putting himself in these situations with you. Clearly, he does not possess much self-restraint when it comes to you, especially not when you are so willing.

“Don’t apologise, I don’t mind,” your voice is shaky, both from him and from your nervousness at admitting you liked it, you liked the way he’s marked you. The dull pain of his teeth biting your sensitive skin set you alight, your pussy throbbing for him.

He groans properly this time, his skin growing hotter against you, his hand on your thigh gripping for dear life. “Don’t tell me that, not right now,” his voice is still tense, fighting every urge he has to fuck your cunt with his tongue. Fighting the urge to taste every inch of your body.

You mumble out to him, “I like the way you touch me.”

“That did the opposite of help,” he grunts out, his forehead still resting on your shoulder, too afraid to move because he knows the look on your face will make him dizzy. His thoughts only filled with depraved images of you, of all the things he’d like to do to you and seeing the wet, needy look in your eyes… will break him.

You sit quietly and let him rest up against you, his breathing evening out slowly but surely. He seems to be trying very hard to be respectful but if you’re being honest with yourself, what you want him to do to you is anything but.

Taking pity on him, you decide not to push and instead offer him a way out, “Kuai, I think we have to leave soon.” It’s not a lie, you are both due back at the Shirai Ryu.

“I know,” he says, pulling his head away from you, he shuffles back a bit too, putting some distance between the two of you, “Again, I am sorry.”

“And again, I don’t need your apology, I said I liked it and I meant it,” you’re doing your best to be confident in yourself, “Now, let’s get going or we’ll be late,” you cement, moving off the bed and to your bedroom door.

He watches you walk across the room, a bit stunned by you, turning back you look at him and raise a brow, “Are you coming?”

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he replies, still sitting, you shrug it off and walk out the door.

You feel light-headed, the sensation of his lips and teeth still linger on your skin, you really would’ve liked to have spent a few more moments alone to see what he would do to you. He looked equal parts fucked and hungry and the thought of him taking you how he pleases sends a thrill through your bloodstream. It’s really too bad but you suppose you will have new opportunities to be intimate with him now that you will be living with him.

Kuai catches up to you eventually and you spend the little time you have left with your parents, going over last-minute things about the wedding and saying your goodbyes. You hold your mother for a long time and when it comes to your father, you would really rather not interact with him but you won’t be seeing him for a few weeks so you hug him anyways, as much as you are angry with him, you will miss him. Though, you don’t hug him nearly as long as your mother and there is an air of contempt surrounding you, directed at him.

Before you leave, you take one last walk around your house and the gardens, knowing you won’t be back for quite a bit. It’s not forever, you will visit but you’d like to commit as much of it to memory now, before you leave. Kuai joins you on your walk, keeping you company, he’s nice to walk next to, his body radiates warmth just to your left.

“You will be handy to have in the winter, I don’t handle the cold all that well,” you hum out to him.

He smiles to himself, “I will keep you warm.”

“I will hold you to that.”

When it is finally time to leave, your parents see you off and then you’re gone from your childhood home, starting a new chapter with your future husband. It’s bittersweet, mostly because while you are excited to embark upon and explore this new relationship with Kuai, you are also still feeling upset at your situation, at the choice that was ripped from you. But like your mother said, all you have to do – is your best, that is more than enough.

₊ ⊹

Being back at the Shirai Ryu is… overwhelming or maybe nerve wracking, mostly because you won’t be leaving, this is going to be your home now… Oh gods, this is going to be your home now. Your heart feels like it’s seizing in your chest and you grab for Kuai standing next to you, hand bunching into the side of his shirt.

He notices and leans down to you, “Are you okay?”

You look up to him, your eyes round, you’re panicking and you don’t know how to stop. You can’t find the words to express that, though. The only response you’re capable of is scared eyes and a shake of your head, this is all starting to feel so real.

“I have you, I’m right here,” Kuai pulls you to him, engulfing your frame in a hug, his arms holding you securely, “Everything is okay.”

The pressure of being held is helping to calm you but you’re still feeling frightened, “Okay, w–we should go…we have things to take care of,” you can’t help the slight shake in your voice.

“It can wait,” his chest vibrates under your ear as he speaks, “I’m going to keep holding you until you are ready.”

You focus on your breathing and trying to slow it, attempting to take deep breaths. With your head pressed to Kuai’s chest, you can hear his heartbeat, it is steady and calm, his breaths are deep and even and you find yourself matching them. His calmness helps to steady you, he’s such a sturdy person, you’re glad he is here.

Eventually, you come back to yourself but you don’t want to pull away from him just yet. Moving your face, you press your forehead into his chest, “Thank you,” you mumble against him.

One of his hands moves to your head and strokes the back of it, “Do you feel better?”

“Marginally,” you breathe him in, he smells nice.

He pauses in thought for a moment before enquiring, “Have you ever panicked like that before?”

You sigh against him, “Not for a very long time.”

Panic attacks are not something you are a stranger to, your memories of them very unpleasant but you had worked hard on yourself to get to where you are now. You’ve not had a panic attack this bad in a long time, not since you were younger.

“If you find yourself panicking again… look for me,” his hand tilts your head up, so your chin rests on his chest, “I will drop everything to help.”

You nod at him, confirming that you will find him, if need be.

Before you pull back, you lean up as far as you can and press a soft kiss to his cheek. When you step away and look at him, you think you see a small pink tint flushing his skin. You don’t get to look at him long though, he grabs your hand and walks you through the village properly, taking you to his home.

You’re familiar with his house, you like it, it’s homey and light, it very clearly displays that a man lives in it but it’s still nice. Kuai is a tidy person for the most part, only forgetting cups in some of the rooms he walks into, he has a bad habit of making a drink, taking it with him somewhere, placing it in that room and then walking out of said room without the drink. It’s endearing and not all that bad since he usually remembers at some point and cleans up after himself.

He leads you down the hall to his spare room, “You can stay in this room.”

Nudging his side, you say, “You don’t want to sleep next to me?” You’re joking, mostly.

“You are welcome in my bed anytime you want, dear,” he’s leaned closer to you, his voice low as he says it, suggestive in nature. Before you have time to be embarrassed and stutter out an answer, he moves back and pats the top of your head, “If you do want to sleep next to me, you are more than welcome, I promise to keep my hands to myself.” His tone has an air of humour to it.

“Thank you,” you mutter out, stepping into the room to place some of your stuff down.

Kuai also follows in, putting the rest of your bags on the floor in the corner of the room, “I know it isn’t much but I hope you will be comfortable.”

“It’s perfect, Kuai, thank you,” you’re being earnest, the room is perfect, it has everything you’ll need and that’s more than enough.

Something on the nightstand catches your attention, “Did you get that for me?”

He comes up beside you, “I did, is it okay?”

The big smile that breaks out across your face can’t be helped, “It’s more than okay, thank you,” you lean your head onto his arm, your fingers looping in between his.

He has gotten you a plant, a small but beautiful one, it sits in an ornate pot on the nightstand, right by a window. The plant is green and leafy, some kind of trailing ivy, your mother would know the genus, species, order, family, etcetera. She really is a plant genius and in a small way it has rubbed off on you, in the way that you love plants, you’re not nearly as scientific about it all.

Kuai thinking to get you a plant… it fills you with joy, he’s continuously showing you how much he cares for you and every time he does, it gives you pause, your own feelings for him buzzing under your skin. It’s only now that you recognise and understand, that these feelings are not how you are meant to feel for a friend, you hadn’t considered liking Kuai like that until you had wanted to kiss him.

Being able to recognise them doesn’t make it easier though, if anything it makes it harder, having all these feelings for him and not really understanding how to express them. It certainly doesn’t help that your situation is not exactly… orthodox.

Looking to him, you can’t help the mass amounts of affection you are feeling for him right now, “Kuai, I really do mean it… thank you.”

“It’s just a plant,” his eyebrows scrunch at you, equal parts amused and confused by your heartfelt sentiment.

Your answer is simple, “I know.”

Kuai squeezes your hand before leaving the room, giving you the chance to settle in for a moment. You unpack a couple things and put your clothes into the dresser, you don’t really want to unpack though and so, instead, you end up flopping onto the bed and star-fishing out across the mattress. It’s a nice mattress, not too shabby, nothing to write home about but it’ll get you a good night’s rest.

A little less than half an hour passes by and Kuai comes back to check on you, only to see you sprawled out on the bed, “Done unpacking, already?”

Looking to him, you complain, “It’s boring and I don’t want to do it.”

He raises a brow to you, “How much did you do?”

“Most of my clothes and a couple other things,” shrugging, you add, “What can I say? I packed light.”

He wordlessly looks down to your other bag sitting in the corner, completely untouched.

You shake a hand at him dismissively, “I’ll unpack as I use things.”

“I foresee that annoying you,” he comments.

Scowling, you bite back, “Guess what’s annoying me right now.”

He fights back a laugh and instead asks, “In that case, are you ready to see the others?”

“Come help me up,” you beckon him over with a limp hand.

He lightly rolls his eyes at you but moves to help you up all the same, one of his hands grabbing yours and pulling you to your feet.

“Why, thank you very much,” you joke, patting his shoulder as you leave the room, you can hear the exasperated sigh he lets out from down the hall and it makes you stifle a laugh.

₊ ⊹

You’re meeting Harumi, Tomas and Raiden in a small garden area, it’s not fairing any better than your mothers, everything either dead or dull. It’s cold and you really would rather be inside, you pull your sleeves down over your hands, your fingers needing the small reprieve from the cold.

When you see Tomas he immediately pulls you in for a hug, happy to see you for the first time in a while, “It has been too long, how have you been?”

“I’ve been better,” you chuckle against him.

The hug lingers for a bit and Kuai clears his throat lightly from behind you, Tomas pulls away quickly at the sound. His hand lands on your head and pats you, “It will be nice having you here,” his smile is kind.

You appreciate his compassion, “Thank you, Tomas.”

Raiden moves in for a hug next, holding you and telling you lowly, so only you hear, “If you need anything, we are here for you.”

Pulling away you give him a look to convey gratefulness but don’t say anything verbally. Kuai moves to stand closer to you, his side brushing yours at how close he chose to stand. You appreciate it, the warmth is already radiating off him and you shuffle the tiniest bit closer to him, seeking more of his warmth.

Before you have a chance to make a note of Harumi’s absence, you hear her voice calling to you all, “I am here! Sorry, I got held up.” She moves in to hug you quickly, “It’s good to see you.”

You smile politely at her, feeling uncomfortable, from the cold and also from her, Kuai may not love her but you don’t know how she feels, “It’s good to see you, too,” you echo her sentiments.

Everyone starts chatting to one another, talking about their days and such, you really would like to listen but the cold is creeping into your veins and you feel like you might start shaking soon. Kuai must notice because he leans down to you, “Cold?”

“Very,” you press out, tone strained from the chill in your bones.

Kuai’s hands grab either side of your arms and rub up and down, trying to help warm you, “I think we should head inside,” he announces, “Tomas, is your house clean?”

Tomas looks up and away to think on it for a second before Raiden intervenes, “I cleaned earlier.”

Tomas turns to Raiden to thank him, but you don’t hear the rest of their conversation, Kuai has already begun walking the pair of you in the direction of their house, wanting to get you inside as soon as possible.

“You should wear more layers,” he notes.

“Maybe I wasn’t expecting to stand out in the open,” you huff out in reply.

You make it to Tomas’ house but the others haven’t caught up to you yet, so now you’re just cold in a different area. You move from foot to foot, trying to keep moving, hoping the movement will warm you up. Kuai watches on, amused by your fidgeting.

“This is your fault,” you grumble, “Fix it.”

He looks at you with a supressed smile on his lips and a puzzled look on his face, “And how am I meant to do that?”

“I don’t know! Warm me up… give me a hug or something,” you’re being a bit dramatic but you’re really cold.

He breathes out a small laugh but does hug you, his arms wrapping around you fully, holding you close to him. He’s so warm, in his arms is so much nicer than in the cold. You nuzzle into his chest, humming in contentment, “You’re so warm, so nice,” you mutter out against him.

A hand moves from your back to the side of your face, his palm warming your cheek, “Your face is very cold, you weren’t lying about not handling the cold well.”

“I would not lie about something like that,” his palm is large against your face, you close your eyes and lean into it, savouring his heat.

You don’t see him move but you feel his lips against yours, the warmth and sudden contact makes you gasp in slight shock. His lips aren’t being demanding, he’s being tame right now. The kiss is still enough to make you dizzy though, warm and full, you think maybe he just makes you feel like that. You kiss him back earnestly, your hands tugging at his chest.

As much as you want it, he doesn’t kiss you any deeper, not willing to risk being seen by the others in such a state. He also wants to kiss you more; he wants to see the look on your face after he kisses you stupid, he just doesn’t want the others seeing it too.

When he pulls back, he says, “Your lips also looked cold.”

“Dumb,” you retort, pressing your forehead to his chest again.

You can feel his quiet laughter move through him, “Did it help?”

“…Maybe.”

You don’t wait much longer for the others, you half expected Kuai to remove you from him when they got within eyeshot of you both but he doesn’t, he lets them see how he’s holding you, how you’ve latched onto him.

Tomas asks, “Are you okay?”

“Mm fine, jus cold, lemme inside,” you grumble out at him, words muffled by Kuai’s shirt.

When the door is finally opened you’re the first inside but you are disheartened when you realise it’s still cold in here too, “Why is it so cold in here?” You whinge out.

“It is not that bad,” Raiden comments.

“You’ll warm up,” Harumi laughs lightly, patting your shoulder on her way past you to the kitchen.

Tomas apologises to you with his eyes but you turn to Kuai and point at him, “Come here.” He pretends to be apathetic towards you, stoically moving to your side, “Just stay close by, please,” you ask, giving him your best and prettiest begging look.

“Mhmm,” he agrees easily, his expression extremely self-satisfied, loving how this has all been playing out.

Your hand reaches for his, trying to be as slick as possible, not really wanting the others to make comments on it. Kuai easily grabs your hand when he realises what you’re attempting to do, not bothered by the others and only really wanting to keep you comfortable. His large hand is heated and comfortable and while it doesn’t warm your whole body instantly, it sure does help a whole lot, his closeness is making this cold bearable.

The afternoon is spent all together, drinking tea and chatting, seeing everyone is nice, it’s been a while since you’ve spent some time with them and you had missed it. Kuai makes sure to stay close the whole time, just like you had asked him to, he truly does radiate heat. You think maybe he’s raising his own temperature just to keep you comfortable; you’ll have to remember to thank him for it later.

At some point, Kuai gets up to grab you another drink, you had told him you were fine but he was already standing and walking into the kitchen. Now that he had finally detached from you, everyone focuses their attention on you. Suddenly, you’re feeling very nervous under their eyes.

Tomas breaks the quiet, seemingly voicing what they all want to say, “What’s going on between you and Kuai?”

You don’t really know how to answer that, “I am not sure what you mean.”

“Are you two actually together now?” Harumi clarifies for you.

“We know he is marrying you because of your father,” Raiden adds.

Tomas directs his attention to Raiden, “Not just that, he loves her–”

Harumi gives Tomas a look, scolding him wordlessly for outing Kuai’s feelings for you.

The cold may not be a problem anymore, not with all the heat in your cheeks. You don’t answer straight away but your lack of a reaction to what should have been a bomb drop gives away your knowledge of Kuai’s feelings for you.

Harumi points at you, grinning, “You already know.”

“What? How did you know?” Tomas asks, surprised.

Raiden’s expression is unamused and sympathetic, feeling bad for you at their prying, “You do not have to answer, it is between you and Kuai.”

Tomas agrees with Raiden, “Yes, but also…” he leans in closer to you, over the table, “Tell us.”

You change your expression to an unreadable one, completely stoic as you lean in closer, “He told me.”

When Kuai walks back into the room, your drink in hand, he sees you and Tomas leaning in closer to each other across the table, he raises a brow at the pair of you, “What happened while I was gone?”

“Nothing,” they all chime out together.

You say nothing though, silently sitting back in your chair, Kuai moves to his seat next to you, sliding your tea across the table and then looks at you, waiting for you to tell him. Glancing around the table, you can tell Tomas is silently begging you not to tell him.

You turn to Kuai and smile, thinking of a lie to cover up the reason you were leaning over the table, “I was winning a staring contest against Tomas.”

“I doubt that,” he replies quickly.

Now you’re offended, “And what do you mean by that?”

“If you are going to lie, learn to do it well,” he teases.

“I can lie well,” everyone grumbles in disagreement and you gasp in faux hurt, “I can,” you insist.

“You really can’t,” Raiden says.

You frown at him in response.

“It’s only because you do not lie often, you are confrontational…” Harumi adds, her words trailing off when she looks to Kuai and see he’s shaking his head lightly at her, informing her of her poor word choice.

“I am not confrontational,” you pout out.

Tomas tries placating you, “Of course not, you are just… direct?”

Kuai changes the topic and places a hand on your shoulder, “Anyways, if you were going to pick a lie, you should have picked a believable one, you are very bad at staring contests.”

You look at him and scowl, squinting your eyes at him in anger, “I am not going to say anything because I am not confrontational.”

Everyone at the table is immensely amused by the way this has all unfolded, wearing smiles while you sit with your arms crossed, slightly annoyed at being called confrontational… again.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Kuai insists, a hand moving to pat your head, stroking you in an offer of comfort.

Everyone at the table agrees, trying to make you feel better.

Even though you disagree that you’re confrontational, it’s nice to be amongst friends. You let go of being upset pretty easily, mostly because you weren’t all that upset in the first place, you know they were just joking around.

Both you and Kuai don’t stay much longer after that though, leaving back to his house after another hour or so passes, it was good seeing them, you hadn’t realised how isolated you had been feeling at home until you spent some time around friends. Being here might be a good thing.

₊ ⊹

The night is cold and it’s keeping you awake, the blankets you have are not enough to stop the chill from creeping in or the shivers that run through your body. You think back to earlier today when Kuai offered his bed to you but you feel hesitant to take him up on it, that would be weird right?

Another shiver shakes your body and you decide you don’t care, you are cold and he is a fucking furnace, you are getting into his bed. You move quickly, not wanting to give yourself time to change your mind and also not wanting to feel the cold for too long.

You make it to his room, your footsteps rushed and quiet, you walk up to his side of the bed. Your hand goes for his shoulder, wanting to gently wake him but before you have a chance to call his name and shake him lightly, his hand shoots out and grabs yours.

It startles you and makes you jump, “Geez, sorry–”

“–Are you okay?” He questions, sitting up quickly to check you over.

You’re still shivering, the cold so much worse without a blanket on top of you, “I–I’m fine… never mind, don’t– don’t worry about it,” your words are stuttered slightly, your teeth chattering, “Sorry for wake–waking you, I am going back to bed.”

He frowns sleepily at you, his hand still holding yours, “You’re cold,” he observes.

Another shake wracks through you and he grumbles disapprovingly at it. His hands grab you, pulling your body to his, taking you with him as he lays back in the bed, before rolling to his side. You are laying down facing each other now, his warmth already so welcome. He grabs the blanket, bringing it up around you properly and then he’s shuffling closer, an arm slinging over your side.

His heat makes you hum, “Thank you.”

He only mumbles his response, mostly sounds and not really words. You press your body as close to his as possible, your cold feet tangling with his and he grunts at it, “Why are you so cold?”

“Because it is a cold night,” you mutter out, “We do not all have magical fire powers.”

“You going to be in my bed every cold night?” His voice is thick with sleep, eyes closed.

Pressing your head to his chest, you answer, “If it bothers you, then no.”

“It does not bother me,” his response is quick.

“Kuai?” he hums at you, telling you he’s listening, “Did you make yourself warmer today? When you were next to me?”

He’s quiet for a few beats, “…Yeah, I did.”

“Thank you.”

“You thank me a lot,” he comments.

“You do a lot of things that I am grateful for, I do not know how else to express that,” you sigh, your body finally relaxing, Kuai’s heat finally removing the chill that had settled into your bones.

Kuai holds back from saying the first things that enter his mind, his sleep addled brain immediately thinking of suggestive ways you could thank him, “You don’t have to thank me for the things I choose to do for you.”

“Of course I do,” you’re resolute in your reply because of course you do, who wouldn’t thank someone for their kindness, “Are you saying, that if I were to do something out of the kindness of my heart for you, you would not thank me?”

He immediately disagrees, he would thank you for anything you did for him, “No–”

“–Then why would I not thank you?” You cut him off, already knowing you have won and made your point.

“Just go to sleep,” he grumbles.

You laugh lightly, happy with your victory.

The conversation naturally dwindles though and you find yourself slipping into unconsciousness. With Kuai keeping you warm all night; it is probably one of the most pleasant slumbers you have had in a long time.

₊ ⊹

The past week has been good, you have been a bit home sick, longing for your mothers cooking and company but you have been settling in okay. The days aren’t boring, you have the company of Tomas, Raiden and Harumi. Most often, you have been with Raiden, he seems to have more free time so you spend the day with him more than the others, he is nice company. Though he is quiet and you feel annoying when you talk too much. Sometimes, leaving the interaction wishing you had just been quiet instead.

Kuai has been good to you, he has cooked for you a bit but you have also cooked some nights. Mostly because he is not the best at cooking, you are not going to tell him that though. You’re appreciative of everything he has done to help make you comfortable, you are not about to tell him that his cooking is not good. Because it is okay, it is edible, it’s just not… yummy.

He’s been out today, you would have gone with him but it’s too cold for you, even with him by your side. Some days you can bear it but not today, no, instead you have had a hot shower, like as hot as you could make it without burning yourself. Which you love, the hot showers help with the cold so much but with the cold air, you’ve been worried about your skin drying.

It’s annoying to do but you endure the cold so you can rub moisturiser into your skin, this isn’t so bad and quite pleasant in almost any other season but standing in only a robe with panties underneath, a leg up on the bed, rubbing moisturiser into your skin, during winter… is fucking freezing and you just wanna rug up and get warm.

You don’t even hear Kuai get home, not until he’s standing in your door frame and almost choking on his spit, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he turns around, arguably not as quick as he could, eyes lingering on your leg perched atop the bed.

“You don’t have to be sorry, it’s fine, I’m only moisturising,” you dismiss, not really all that bothered by him seeing you like this. Though, you did think there was more time until he got back, you would have closed your door if you knew he was going to be home soon.

He turns back around, now that he knows you are fine with his presence and moves across the room to you, “How was your day?”

“Mmm, it was fine… cold, I was alone for most of the day though,” your hands rub at your thigh, massaging the cream into your skin.

Kuai’s voice sounds a little distant, “You did not see Raiden today?”

You only realise why he sounds so distracted when you look to him, his gaze set on your leg, intently watching the way your hands massage at your thigh, “If you like watching so much, why don’t you do it for me,” you joke, not really meaning anything by it.

“I will,” he replies quickly, eyes flicking up to lock on yours, “If you let me.”

Your brows upturn at him, a little confused by his eagerness but it’s not like you’re having fun doing it yourself, “Okay.”

He rounds the bed, moving in front of you; your leg comes down and he lowers himself onto the mattress, tapping your thigh once he’s sat, asking you to put it back up. You do, your foot resting on the bed again, right next to him. You were not expecting this position and it feels incredibly revealing.

He grabs the moisturiser off the bed and pumps some into his hand, eyes looking to yours to check if you’re really okay, before beginning to rub it into your calf. He starts lower on your leg, fingers pressing into your muscles, moving up and down. Eventually, he drags his palms up your leg, reaching your thigh, his fingers grip and pull at the skin and muscle, his hands travelling high up, the pressure feels good.

His hands are warm, the cold not a problem anymore, not with how he’s warming you, not with how intimate this feels, you honestly were not expecting this to feel so… arousing. The higher his hands travel the more your skin heats, seemingly Kuai is having the same problem, his hands growing hotter against your skin the more he rubs the moisturiser in.

Once it’s been absorbed, he asks you for your other leg, which you give, swapping sides for him. His eyes don’t leave your lower half, very carefully watching your thighs, you remember in the back of your head how much he seemed to like gripping your thighs while kissing you.

This time it looks like he’s grabbed more moisturiser, “Kuai, that’s too much, it will take forever to rub in.”

“That’s fine,” he mumbles out.

You insist, “No seriously, my leg can only get so moisturised.”

His eyes look up to yours, “I will find somewhere else to put it,” his eyes drag down your torso with his words, the implication causing blood to rush to your face.

He starts with your calf again, the product slipping all over your skin, he really had grabbed too much. It doesn’t stop him though, his hands move up to get it on your thigh and then his hands are rubbing into your skin again, trying to get it to rub in. Even though there is a surplus of product on you, he persists, massaging you the same as before. It feels good and as he rubs into one spot on your thigh, a small, gasped whine passes your lips.

His fingers are firm as they dig into you, his hands traveling higher again, the sounds that slip from you can’t be helped. You do supress them as much as you can, mostly stopping them in your throat. Kuai pushes all the moisturiser on your calf to your thigh before tugging you to sit in his lap.

You gasp lightly, surprised, “What are you doing?”

“Too much product, going to put in on your other thigh,” he states, his hands rubbing your other thigh again.

The way you’re straddling him is even more exposing than the position you were in before, the lower half of your robe split open now, your panties completely revealed to him. Luckily, your upper half is still covered, you might have fainted if he had your tits in his face while he massaged your thighs.

Kuai is very focused on your thighs though, his hands digging into both of them at the same time, massaging your inner thighs. You’re sensitive where he’s touching, especially like this, your hands hold onto his shoulders, repressed whines getting stuck in your throat. Your thighs twitch under his hands, he moves them further up, all the way to your hips. His hands slip under either side of your panties and rub into the skin of your hips.

Most of the product is absorbed now but Kuai’s hands still travel up and down your thighs, he’s setting you on the edge, his hands exploring you have you almost shaking on top of him. You’re so aroused at this point, pussy wet and needy and he’s only been massaging you.

He still doesn’t stop touching you and you end up pulling his head back by his hair, making him look you in the eyes, “Kuai, please.”

The look in your eyes makes him groan, he hadn’t realised how much of an effect he’d been having on you, mostly touching you for his own enjoyment. He pulls you to him so that you’re sitting in his lap, you twitch and pant at the feeling of his hard cock against your covered cunt.

“Sorry,” he mutters, “Got distracted.”

“Not that, I’m really wet now,” you tell him, not caring for apologies, instead wanting him to do something about it.

He moans at your confession, his hands gripping your thighs harder, his eyes dark and lustful.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse, accurately. “Fix it.”

“And how am I meant to do that?” He smiles cockily up at you.

You decide to snark back, “Are you worried you won’t be able to make me cum?”

His smile doesn’t falter, not falling for your bait, “Yes, I am, why don’t you show me how you do it?”

“Kuai, please,” you plead with him instead, eyes begging him to do something to you, “Do whatever you want to me just– please do something.”

“Whatever I want?” He checks and you nod your head, “And what if I want to do nothing? Leave you a needy mess like this? Then what?”

“Then I will cry,” you answer and you wish that upset him but he seems to be even more pleased at that comment, “You are mean.”

“I am not, you’re just soft,” he retorts.

You grind your hips down into his lap, your pussy rutting against his cock, he chokes on a sudden moan and grips your hips, stopping you from moving.

“Now who is mean?” He asks, voice strained.

“Still you,” it’s grumbled out with annoyance, you’re becoming sexually frustrated.

You decide to try and be meaner, one of your hands leaving his shoulder and dipping into your panties, running through your folds, when you hit your clit you moan and twitch atop of him. His eyes are watching you, small groans vibrating in his chest.

You pull your hand away from your pussy, showing him just how wet you are, fingers coated in your slick. His immediate response is to grab your hand and shove your fingers into his mouth, licking them clean, his mouth hot. You whine at him, he’s officially back to being meaner than you. You feel like a big mess, wet, sticky, needy– downright desperate for him.

He removes your fingers from his mouth, tongue licking at them a final time before pulling away, “That was mean,” he blames.

“Please, Kuai, I will take anything– just make me cum,” you’re back to begging.

He smiles evilly at you, “No.”

“Why not?” Your eyes actually well with tears, threatening to spill.

He holds the side of your face and coos, “Because having you wet and needy on top of me, is really doing it for me.”

“You are evil,” you pout at him.

“You seem to like it,” he’s still smiling at you, like he’s got you in the palm of his hand… and at the moment he does, if he’ll promise to get you off, you’d do just about anything.

He pulls your face to his, lips locking with yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue licking into your mouth, his warmth overwhelming you. His hand on your thigh digs in, holding you firmly. You moan into the kiss, your hips trying to grind down into him again, succeeding marginally. He gasps against you and lets you rut down. Enjoying the friction himself, just as aroused as you are, just better at hiding it. His cock twitches in his pants and you whine into the kiss, wanting so badly to be filled by him.

He pulls away from you, something occurring to him, “Has anyone ever made you cum?”

You’re panting against him, “I hadn’t even been kissed Kuai, take a guess.”

A large smile breaks out across his face, ecstatic at the fact that he’ll be the first person to make you cum, “Mmm, I will make you cum then.”

You perk up, “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll have you cumming in your little panties for me,” he says it easily but the words embarrass you just as much as they arouse you.

His hands grip either side of your hips and begin dragging you up and down his covered cock, the head of it catching on your clit and making you keel over, your head landing in the crook of his neck, hands holding his shoulders.

Your hips help, moving back and forth with his pace, the friction delicious, it has you salivating for him. He’s gasping out groans under you, enjoying this just as much as you are. He moves his hands to your thighs, spreading you wider on him. His grip stays on your thighs, obsessed with them, with their softness.

You press a light and wet kiss to the skin on his neck, the feeling sends a shiver down his spine, his cock jumping against your cunt. His hands are hot against your thighs, the heat radiating off him suffocating. You muffle your moans into his neck, embarrassed by how whingey and desperate you sound.

Your panties are completely ruined, so slick they’re stuck to your cunt and slipping against the fabric of Kuai’s pants. He pauses for a moment and you whine against him, he shushes you in response. He only stopped to pull his pants down, still in his boxers but wanting less layers between you.

When your pussy comes back into contact with his covered cock, he groans out loudly, mind drifting far from him, if he thinks too hard about how wet you are or how desperate you are for him, he might end up fucking you stupid tonight.

He begins grinding you down into him again, losing his mind at the new feeling, of how much better it feels without his pants on. Without the extra layer, his cockhead catches on your pussy hole through your panties and he groans like he’s been gut punched. You wiggle down on him, seeking penetration that won’t happen, not with all the layers.

You sob into his skin, so horny and wet, you’re drooling onto his shoulder and neck, saliva coating his skin. He keeps rutting you down on top of him, desperate to have you cumming for him. His mind only filled with how you must sound when you finish, how you’ll sound moaning his name.

You can’t think of anything, only thinking of his cock rubbing through your folds and catching on your clit. Every other thought you might have, dying before you are aware of it. You’re shaking against him, getting close to your end, your stomach tensing, cunt fluttering around nothing. Your whines breaking off into nothing, choking on all the sounds you want to make for him.

Kuai notices, “So close aren’t you? Fuc–”

He gets cut off by you biting him, your teeth digging into the skin on his shoulder, you’ve bit him as you cum, his words pushing you over the edge. Your first, thoughtless response being to latch onto him, a way to try and ground yourself. His cock spasms at the feeling, his own orgasm rocking through him, his nails bite into your skin, holding you to him firmly as you both finish at the same time.

He groans loudly, his orgasm shocking him, not expecting to cum so suddenly. You’re limp against him, your teeth no longer imbedded into his shoulder. You pant and shudder against him, aftershocks wracking through your body. He pulls you back, only because he needs to see the look on your face and when he does, he smiles brilliantly at you, overjoyed by your expression.

Your eyes are all gooey, cheeks tear stained, you look like an absolute mess for him and he thinks if he hadn’t just cum, he could cum just from seeing you like this. He tucks you back into his shoulder and holds you to him, letting you regain your strength before trying to move either of you.

You feel dizzy and lost, “It’s never felt that good before.”

“Mmm just you wait,” he retorts humorously.

You still twitch against him slightly but you pull yourself back and press a full kiss to his lips, your tongue licks into his mouth, his hand grabs at your face, letting you kiss him how you please, a moan passing from him to you. You pull back from him properly, sitting in his lap looking at him, feeling a little bashful now.

“What was that for?” He asks, eyes glassy.

You smile sweetly at him and say, “That was a thank you.”

He smiles affectionately at you, his eyes dopey and in love, “You should always thank me like that.”

You bop him on the nose with a finger, “Okay.” Apparently, an orgasm makes you agreeable and happy.

He shakes his head at you in amusement before asking, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, waited for you.”

“Let’s eat then,” he says, picking you up as he stands.

You squeal at him as he carries you down the hall like that, you’re stuck to him, clinging on for dear life, scared you’ll fall but also trusting that he won’t drop you. The whole house is filled with your shared laughter.

₊ ⊹

The next couple weeks are more of the same, you spend a lot of time in Kuai’s bed, seeking his warmth most nights but nothing happened between the two of you. He seemed to be trying to control himself better around you, it would have bugged you but things had honestly been busy. With the wedding approaching fast, you had other things to worry about and your anxieties started peaking their ugly heads again.

And now that the day is here, you feel wracked with nerves the whole time, it hadn’t been so bad… not in the beginning. There were a few hiccups, like the awkwardness between yourself and your father, you’re still holding resentment against him, especially since his motivations remain unknown to you.

Your father had seemed… sombre, when no one was looking there was a sadness looming around him, you aren’t sure what exactly could be the reason for it and you would ask but he wouldn’t tell you either way. He’d only say that it is rude to ask someone why they look run down.

There was one point in the day that you tried talking to him but he had only brushed you off, giving you shallow pleasantries and congratulations. It hurt, to be pushed aside when you had concerns for him, you think the least he could have done was entertain a polite conversation with you but he was not at all interested in talking with you, not in the way you needed him to.

You had also tried asking your mother about your father but like you predicted, she gave away nothing. Instead, she focused on you, how you were feeling and settling, how you were going with Kuai. It was nice to see her, to talk with her properly, you have been missing her company. You also tried a few more times to get her to tell you what was wrong but she’s a tough nut to crack and she continued to assure you nothing was wrong, maybe you are looking too hard for things that aren’t there.

Kuai had been with you most of the day, trying to stay by your side and make sure you felt okay but he had people coming to talk to him a lot, he eventually got pulled away from you, not too long ago actually. Now, he’s probably stuck in a conversation somewhere; one you do not care to stick around for.

This whole day has been uncomfortable and you’re nervous, the future in front of you now and you have no idea what happens after. What changes now? You are aware nothing has actually changed, only the legality of your betrothal to Kuai but things still feel scary, everything feels scary and you feel small. It feels like you may be having a panic attack again.

You scan the crowd for Kuai but fail to find him and instead rush to find a quiet place you can hide for a moment, somewhere you can calm your thoughts and focus on your breathing. It doesn’t help though, now you’re alone with your thoughts, the quiet a welcome change from the overstimulation of being around people but not helping in slowing your thoughts.

All your anxieties are still there, just somehow louder without all the other noises happening around you. You start hyperventilating, now freaking out about not being able to calm down. And you’re frustrated, you have enjoyed your time here for the past month, you feel less isolated, you feel cared for, Kuai makes you feel cared for but you are not coping with the change well, you are not coping with your fathers betrayal well. You are not coping well, not right now. Right now, it feels like the world is caving in around you.

Tears are streaming down your face and you wish they would stop, it will mess with the makeup you’re wearing and then people will have questions, oh gods, what if they have already noticed your absence? What if people are looking for you, what if someone finds you here like this, all sad and pitiful… you might die on the spot, from mortification.

Footsteps can be heard nearby, getting closer to you, it has you holding your breath and standing stock still, hoping the bushes and pillar will be enough to hide you from whoever is in the area. They keep approaching though, their steps seem rushed, like they’re looking for someone, great, they’re probably looking for you.

Kuai rounds the pillar and sees you, he rushes out a sigh of relief, happy to have found you, “I have been looking all over for you, are you okay?” His hands cradle your face and his thumbs gently rub the tears off your cheeks, attempting to fix your makeup.

“I couldn’t find you, I did look,” your voice is shaky, threatening to cry again.

Truthfully, you feel relieved to see him too, his presence immediately bringing you a kind of comfort you hadn’t realised was gone until he was back beside you. You had been leaning on him all day to help keep you together more than you thought, you knew he helped make all of this easier but you hadn’t realised just how much him being near helped you.

“Come here,” he pulls you to him, holding you in a hug, keeping you safe, “Do you want to talk about it?”

You don’t really but you’ll try your best to tell him anyways, “I got scared, nothing changed but it also feels like everything has changed. I am worried about my relationship with my father, I feel betrayed by him… and I guess… I have not been coping as well as I thought I had been.”

“You have been doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances,” his hands rub your back, “You have been doing your best, you have been adjusting as well as anyone can, I am in awe of your resilience, dear.”

You sniffle out, “I worry that I am becoming a burden to you, Kuai.”

“You could never burden me,” he leans down and presses a small kiss high on your cheekbone, when he pulls back he looks you in the eyes, his gaze intense and sincere, “I love you.”

The reminder of his open love for you takes your breath away, he does not repeat it often, only when he thinks you have forgotten it. Only when he thinks you need to hear him say it, he needs you to know how highly he thinks of you, how beautiful you are to him, how amazing you have been throughout all of this.

You never know how to reply to him, saying thank you feels dumb, so you kiss him. Leaning up to him, you press your lips to his gingerly, careful and tentative as you do. You hadn’t kissed during your ceremony, it’s not tradition but in the quiet area you have found, where it is just the two of you, you share a soft kiss, one filled with your appreciation for him and his love. Parting is harder than it should be, every time you kiss him, you hope it will last just a little bit longer.

“You are my husband now,” you comment.

He smiles softly at you, “That I am.”

You both head back to where everyone else is, once you’ve calmed down, he stays with you the whole time and offers you reassuring words. You would have loved nothing more than to go home and be done with the day but you soldier on and get through it.

It is uneventful, more of the same but this time Kuai makes sure to stay close by you, a part of him touching you the whole time. His hand always on you somewhere, whether it be on your back, shoulder, hand, knee, he’s there and he’s making sure you remember it.

Ultimately, he is what gets you through today and you are so grateful to him.

₊ ⊹

After everyone leaves, you’re back at his house… well your house too, it feels a little weird to say though, especially since you feel like you don’t contribute much. His house has been feeling more homely but you can’t tell if that’s his house or him, you think you may just be feeling at home with him.

You shower first, needing to get out of everything and into something comfortable, when you’re finished, you head to Kuai’s room. His door is open and he’s lying on his bed waiting for the shower to be free.

“I am done,” you walk to his side and his hand grabs yours, squeezing once.

He hums at you, “Thank you,” his form moves off the bed, his body brushing up against yours as he slips by you to head in the direction of the shower.

You’re feeling a little odd, you could just go to bed, or even get into his bed and sleep off today but you know people usually celebrate their marriage. It may not be a ‘traditional’ marriage but you would like to sleep with him, he sets your skin on fire, he fills your head with dirty thoughts and… well, you don’t really have any good excuse… he makes you horny and you want him to fuck you.

Sighing, you crawl onto his bed and into the spot he was just in, it’s still warm and cosy. You sit and think about things as you wait for him to come back but all you’re really thinking about is how much you’d like to be filled with him, how hot his skin must get, how vocal he may be. No matter how hard you try to think of something else, your mind wonders back to him and his toned body under you, or above you. Your thighs subtly rub together, seeking friction.

When Kuai come back into the room, he’s wearing his pants low on his hips, he’s shirtless, chest bare and still has some water trailing his abs, his hair down and damp, you can’t help the way you stare at him. You try, you try really hard not to make it obvious but by the way he raises a brow at you, you know you’ve been caught red handed.

You speak before he has the chance to be mean, “Aren’t you cold?”

He hides his smile at your question, “I run hot,” he notes, obviously.

You feel silly, “Right…”

“Was today okay?” He sits down facing you, a hand landing on your knee.

You’re actively having to fight off the shiver that wants to shake your whole body, “It was fine, with you beside me.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, his hand gripping your knee once before pulling away.

Telling him you want to sleep with him is hard, you haven’t actually tried saying anything yet but he picks up that something is bothering you.

“Did you have something you want to ask me?” He raises his brows to you, encouraging you to ask what you want to.

Biting the bullet, you decide to be direct, “Don’t we… have to consummate our union… or whatever?” You feel very awkward and you’re having a hard time looking him in the eyes.

“We don’t have to,” he replies.

You feel dejected, like he has outright rejected the idea of sleeping with you, “You don’t want to?”

He’s quick to answer, “I want to,” he looks at you, eyes dark, “You know I want to.” His gaze looks like there is a fire raging inside, feelings for you burning just under the surface, “But only if you want to.”

“I want to,” you’re fiddling with your own hands, nervous, “It’s just that, it’d be my first time.”

“Maybe we should wait,” he offers.

“For what?” your brows upturn at him, “I want it.”

He closes his eyes to think for a second, trying to be respectful even though you’re in his bed, asking him to fuck you, on your wedding night. His focus is on trying to keep enough blood in his head so he can think. Not realising that you’ve shuffled closer to him, not until your hand reaches for his wrist and shoves his hand down your panties. You’re resting on your knees for him, legs spread just enough for his fingers to slip through your pussy lips.

He groans, like he’s been punched in the stomach, “That’s just not fair.”

“Trying to show you I want it,” you mutter out, bashful.

He’s weak, how could he resist you when you’ve pushed his fingers to your cunt, your very wet cunt. He drags the tips of his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick all over yourself, you gasp in response and grab onto his shoulder, his skin hot under your hand.

He focuses on where his hand is under your panties, wishing you weren’t wearing any, “I can tell you want it; I still have reservations.”

“Is it because– hah–” you’re cut off by his fingers carefully circling your clit, your nails lightly dig into his skin, “–is it because –mmph– I’m a virgin?” You gasp out, wanting to understand his hesitation.

“Partially,” he hums, his other hand moves to grip your thigh, trying to stop your twitching, “Also because I like your neediness for me, wonder how far I could push you.”

You frown at him, thighs trembling at the stimulation he’s providing, “That would be cruel–”

“–It would be, yes.” He cuts you off only to agree. He looks to your eyes, they’re blown out and glazed and as much as he enjoys taunting you, he would also enjoy getting his dick wet.

You can’t help the way your pussy flutters at his words, you wish you didn’t enjoy how mean he seems to be when it comes to the bedroom. He’s so very often gentle with you and the change in attitude when it comes to this topic affects you in a way you can’t really explain. He knows though, especially since your cunt got so much slicker at his teasing.

He pulls his hand away from you and you whine at him, “I am not going to fuck you–”

“Why–”

He shoves his fingers covered in your wetness into your mouth, effectively getting you to shut up, “Because…” his eyes are set on how your lips wrap around his fingers, on the way your tongue slips between them, licking him clean, “…I said so.” He doesn’t offer anymore explanation.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth slowly, enjoying the view of your lips around them. Once he’s able, he pulls you to him by the back of your neck, his lips harshly meeting with yours. His tongue licks into your mouth, tasting you, he’s fervent, insistent. Mouth hot and the kiss wet, you can only let him kiss you how he pleases and whine into him, he’s overwhelming you and not giving you much of a chance to do anything else.

His hands push at your robe, wanting you to take it off, it slips from your shoulders and pools around your waist. His lips don’t part from yours but his hands move to grab at you, palming your breasts, massaging at you. His fingers pinch at your nipples, rolling them, you break the kiss, moaning louder than you were expecting to.

The sound embarrasses you and your hand moves off his shoulder to cover your mouth, Kuai grunts in disapproval but continues playing with your tits, focus solely on them. You gasp and whine from beneath your palm, your body jerking in response to him. You press your chest forward into his hands more, his eyes are dark and glazed, lost in how big his hands look on your tits.

You pull your hand away, enough to pant out, “Kuai –hah– I can’t– please, I need more.”

“Wants and needs are not the same thing,” his voice is low and gravelly, eyes still on your tits.

You push his hands away from you and stand up on wobbly legs, your robe falls to the floor properly and you push your panties down your legs, kicking them off your feet. Kuai is in awe of you, eyes trailing every inch of your body.

“I know that, and I meant what I said,” you huff at him, you passed want a while ago, you need him now. His hands grab for you but you step away, staying just out of reach, “I need you, please.”

He nods at you quickly, “Mhm whatever you want, just come here.”

You move within arm’s reach of him again and he pulls you down to the mattress, your head lands on the pillows and you laugh in shock. He leans down over you and presses his lips to yours, kissing you quickly. And then he gets off the bed to pull his pants down, freeing his hard cock. He’s large and thick and you think that taking him is going to be… a challenge for sure.

You must look concerned by his size because he says, “Calm down, I meant it when I said I wasn’t fucking you.”

You grumble at him, “I could take it.”

He chuckles, “I am sure you could, not tonight though.”

You’re confused as to what’s happening, “Then what are we doing?”

He crawls back onto the bed, over top of you, and nuzzles his face into the side of yours. His lips press light kisses to your skin before pulling back to look at you smugly. “There are other ways to get off,” he states, matter-of-factly.

“But I want to be…” you trail off before mumbling out, “…full.”

His head drops to your shoulder, and he grumbles lowly about how you’re trying to kill him, or how you’re really testing his patience. Taking a deep breath, he looks back to you and says, “Roll over, onto your side.”

“What? No please?” You joke.

He squints at you and then just flips you onto your side himself, he tucks in behind you, essentially spooning you. His hard body presses into your back, he holds one of his hands out to you, “Spit.”

You do as you’re told without thinking twice, immediately spitting into his palm. He sighs quietly and takes his hand away from you, soft clicking sounds can be heard behind you and Kuai groans out, his head landing on your shoulder. He fists at his cock for a bit, getting it slick for you.

“Keep your thighs closed,” he directs, deep voice by your ear.

His cock slips between your thighs, spreading your pussy lips open on his thick length. You gasp at the feeling of his dick running along your cunt, the head lightly grazing your clit as he slips against you. He moans into your shoulder at the warmth of your pussy, his cock jerking at how wet you are for him.

He breathes in as he pulls back, his dick slick with you. He pushes in between your thighs and you gasp out a whine at how his tip hits your clit. Kuai starts a steady pace, thrusting backwards and forwards, his dick sliding against your pussy. Looking down, you watch the way the head of his cock pokes out between your thighs, you clamp them together as much as you can and Kuai’s hips stutter, a moan pulled from his chest.

You’re leaking against him, his dick sliding easily through your folds, his breath sputters at the plushness of your thighs, at the slick of your creamy cunt. The tip of his cock oozes thick globs of precum, his arousal driving him insane. His hand grips onto your hip, holding you still and needing to ground himself.

Your hips move with him, your need for him heightening. He’s so hard and pressed right against you, it would be so easy for him to change his mind and push inside. Moans and whines spill from you freely, your hand reaches back and tangles into his hair. Kuai presses his head to your shoulder, his pants and moans right next to your ear.

“Kuai –hah– can’t you just –nngh– put it in,” your eyes burn, like the pleasure might make you cry.

He groans into your neck, “No –nngh– I couldn’t –hah–”

He is right, with how big he is and the fact you’ve not had sex before, there is no ‘just’ putting it in. But even though he’s right, your horny brain doesn’t care, “Please~”

“No,” he bites back, “Now stop asking or I’ll stop.”

You whinge at him and even though you want to keep protesting, you think better of it, knowing he definitely would hold off on his own pleasure just to torture you further. Kuai mouths at the side of your neck, getting carried away and sucking at your skin, no doubt leaving behind some dark marks.

He’s getting lost in feeling of your wet cunt and soft thighs, “You’ve got such –hah– soffft skin –fuck– pussy is fucking dripping –nngh– for me.”

His slightly slurred and growled out words drive you mental, moans getting stuck in your chest from how you try to stuff them down. You rock your hips back against him, desperation clawing up your spine.

Kuai’s hand pins your hip to the bed, holding you down, wanting you to stay steady so he can fuck through your thighs how he pleases, “Be good and stay –hah– still.”

Your cunt jumps against him, you’re throbbing for him, your thighs slick and a complete mess, both from his precum and your arousal. You’re frustrated from the lack of fullness, your pussy begging for his cock.

“Kuai~ please –hah–” you let yourself trail off, remembering his threat.

His thrusts speed up, the glide easy, meeting no resistance with the complete mess made of your lower half. You can feel the growls in Kuai’s chest and hear the gasping noises he’s making against your skin, his tongue licks at your neck before he whispers to you.

His voice is low and grumbly, broken only by gasped moans, “Bet you have the tightest little cunt –nghh– probably have me cumming just from filling you –hah–”

You tug at his hair and he moans into your ear the sound has your pussy quivering for him, all the sounds he makes sets you on fire. His hot skin holds you close to him, making you feel faint. And then his mouth is back on your skin, leaving behind more marks.

The sounds you try to stuff down drive him crazy, you’re trying so hard to be quiet but can’t help but make noises and it’s not only boosting his ego, it’s making his cock throb for you. He has half a mind to cave and fuck you open on his cock right now.

Kuai’s cognizance is far from him, his thoughts only focused on your slick cunt and thighs on his cock. He slurs out to you, “You’re such a –hah– pretty little thing –mmph– my pretty little thing –nghh– my pretty little wife.”

You gasp and twitch against him, hearing him refer to you as his wife has your head buzzing, something primal in you loving being referred to as such. Your stomach fills with butterflies, his words doing things to you that you don’t really have the wherewithal to understand right now.

You’re getting close to finishing, your pussy twitches and your stomach clenches, your hand in his hair holding on tighter. He groans into your neck, his own end sneaking up on him. He’s losing his mind at everything, everything about how he’s fucking your thighs right now has him going crazy.

His dick spasms between your legs and his teeth bite into your neck, the feeling a shock, it runs down your spine to your cunt. The blunt pain pushes you off the edge and you cum on Kuai’s cock, choked moans pulling from your chest. You gasp and whine, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. Your mind is gone as you cum on him, the only thing slightly grounding you is the feeling of Kuai’s hot skin and his tongue as he licks at the bite mark he left behind.

The way you jolt against Kuai and how your thighs seem to clamp tighter have his own orgasm slipping from him. His cum landing on your thighs and his bed. He groans loudly into your skin as he cums and he finds himself wishing so badly that he had cum inside you. He nips at your skin some more as he comes down, enjoying the way you jerk against him as he does.

The hand he had on your hip wanders over your body now that he doesn’t have to hold you down, he pulls at the skin on your thighs, at your tits, and when he reaches your face he wipes the drool away from the corner of your mouth.

He checks you over, “You with me?” You hum out to him in confirmation, and he adds, “Good, cause I’m not done with you.”

His words send a thrill through you, what else could he possibly do to you?

He pulls his cock from between your thighs carefully and then pulls you to lay on your back, he positions himself over you. You’re so pliable now that you’ve cum, letting him manoeuvre you however he pleases. His hands push your thighs open and he’s breathless at the sight, you’re a mess, slick and cum coating your thighs and cunt. He groans out at it, his mouth pooling with saliva, he wants to put his mouth on you so bad.

His fingers drag along your skin, collect what cum he had gotten on you, and then his fingers are pressing through your folds. He’s playing with your pussy, coating it in his cum. A single finger prods at your entrance and slowly slides inside. The grip you have on his single finger almost has him going feral, the fact you wanted him to fill you with no preparation makes him nearly laugh.

You gasp at how his finger has pushed into you, not expecting it but enjoying it, finally having something inside. He gently moves it in and out, slowly fucking you, your thighs try to close at the stimulation but Kuai body between your legs stops them from getting too far. His free hand moves to your thigh and holds you open, his gaze greedy for how open you are for him right now.

He can’t stop thinking about how you would feel split open on his cock, how you would leak around him, how tight you must be and how fucked full he’d make you feel. His skin is buzzing, his cock hard for you again. His finger retreats and you whine at him, the sound you make has his heart racing, you sound so fucked out and cute.

“You make such cute little noises,” he hums out to you.

“Why–”

He shushes you, “Just lay there and let me play with you.”

Gods, he’s going to kill you, your cunt jumps at his words and your stomach twists in knots. The things he has been saying tonight have you gnawing at the bit, wanting him to stop because it’s embarrassing and also never wanting him to shut up because it’s arousing you.

Kuai’s finger collects more of the cum he left on you and then he pushes it inside your cunt, he’s finger fucking his cum inside you and it’s going to make you faint. His finger crooks up inside you and your hands move to cover your mouth, loud moans threatening to rip from you.

Kuai only smiles at your reaction and hums, “Can try and be as quiet as you want, won’t work.”

Your pussy clenches down on him at the sound of his voice and his smile grows larger, he’s enjoying watching your reactions to him, loving the control he has as he fingers you. His pace has been steady and consistent but with his own need to see you cum clawing up his spine his hand speeds up, fucking you faster and harder, his head filling with images of you cumming for him.

He’s thinking about how tight your little cunt will grip him as you finish and how you would feel cumming on his cock. His eyes are glazed and blown, fucked out and he’s not even fucked you. You’re gasping underneath your hands, eyes rolling to the back of your head and spilling tears. The sight has Kuai enamoured, relishing in the way you’re crying over his single finger.

He crooks his finger up to hit a specific spot inside you continuously and it has you cumming with a suppressed shout. Kuai was right, you grip him tight as your cunt spasms around him, your body twitches and your thighs quiver.

As he pulls his finger from you, all your slick and the cum he pushed inside oozes from your convulsing pussy hole. He tuts at you in mock disapproval, you’re not really sure what he’s referring to though, you’re still panting, trying to catch your breath after your second orgasm.

When you’ve regained some of your faculties, you look to Kuai and see the absolutely fucked out look on his face. His eyes glassy and wet, focused on your pussy, his cock fully erect again. He doesn’t look all there at all, like his thoughts are a million miles away from him.

“My pretty little wife has made a mess all on my sheets,” his words are slurred together, “gonna have to clean it up,” his hands run along the insides of your thighs, “You gonna let me clean it up?” He finally looks to you, his eyes bordering on feral.

You nod shakily at him, words failing you right now.

At your approval he’s immediately shuffling between your legs, you don’t know what you were expecting but you’re shocked when he gets on his stomach and pushes your legs open as wide as they will go before licking up the whole length of your pussy. Your stomach jumps in delight and shock, your hand moves back to your mouth to cover the moan that he pulls from you.

He’s lapping at you like a starved animal, not really cleaning any mess but more… making an entirely new one. Your head is up in the clouds, not able to focus on anything but how it feels to have his tongue lick at your pussy. His mouth then suddenly latches onto you, his tongue entering your hole and drinking down all of your cum.

His face presses as close to your pussy as he can possibly get, his nose up against your clit makes you clench down on his tongue and a loud groan rumbles from deep in his chest. The vibrations of the noise he makes has you crying out, your hand doing little to stop it. Kuai’s hands hold onto your thighs, gripping them tighter at the sound you make.

You’re practically panting for him, your hips rise and fall, attempting to ride his face. He holds you down, his mouth fervent on you, hot and wet. The noises that fill the room are embarrassing and obscene. Lewd, wet noises of your cunt and his mouth enter your head and you twitch in response, your skin heating at the realisation that it’s your pussy making those noises.

Your hand is getting damp from how you drool at Kuai’s tongue in your pussy, eventually you can’t take it and need something to grip onto. Your hand moves from your mouth and tangles in his hair, the other gripping at the pillows above you. The moans and whines he pulls from you are falling freely now, unobstructed and just as embarrassing to you as your messy cunt.

When you tug on his hair accidentally, he groans into your pussy, his tongue moving more desperately. Kuai’s hips rut into the mattress below, not able to stop himself from seeking friction. His head fully invaded by you and your cunt. He’s almost whining into your pussy, obsessed with how fucking slick you are, how you seem to just keep getting slicker.

His nails bite into the skin on your thighs where he’s holding you open; you’re shaking like a leaf for him. Your whole-body trembles with how sensitive you are and he’s happily tongue fucking you through it. He doesn’t stop making small noises of pleasure as he licks into you, his hips still rutting down into the bed.

Your whines hit a higher pitch, your hands grabbing and letting go before grabbing again, your orgasm is on the tip of your tongue, or on the tip of Kuai’s tongue and it feels like too much. Your limbs want to flail but Kuai is holding your legs still, not at all deterred from getting you to finish.

“Kuai~ It’s –hah– too –mmph– much,” you cry out to him.

You don’t know if he chooses to not acknowledge you or if he’s so far gone that he doesn’t notice, but he continues tongue fucking you into the next dimension. The relentlessness has you crying now, tears falling freely at the overstimulation. You’re shaking so much and it truly feels like you need to run away from the feelings you’re being given. But even if you try to wiggle away, it doesn’t work, Kuai uses barely any of his strength to hold you still. He grunts into your cunt in disproval, the most communication he’s given since he first put his mouth on you.

A gasped whine is let out as you cum, your pussy spasms around Kuai’s tongue and he moans out at it, nearly whining into you again. His tongue fucks you through it and his nose presses to your clit, he shakes his head lightly to encourage the stimulation. He drinks down your cum while groaning, enjoying himself immensely, ecstatic that he’s finally gotten to shove his tongue inside you.

He pulls back from you, not wanting to overstimulate you more than he already has. You don’t even feel conscious anymore, vision dark and unfocused. The thing that brings you back to your body is Kuai biting at your inner thighs, he’s leaving marks on you, teeth biting in hard enough that an impression of his teeth will be left behind for a while. You let him do it, not really present enough to move anyways and even if you were, you like the marks he’s left behind, you like how possessive he seems to be in bed. It screams to that primal part of your brain.

Kuai pulls back to look at you and the marks he’s left on your thighs, he smiles to himself, full of pride. His hands gently smooth over your thighs before he moves up the bed to lay next to you, he pulls you to your side and hold you to him. You close your eyes, your body soft and pliable, like a ragdoll.

“Are you still with me?” He asks.

Without opening your eyes, you retort, “Are you?”

He chuckles at you but is also sheepish, “Yeah, sorry… I got carried away.”

“Don’t apologise, I liked it,” you mumble out to him, “a lot.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, “Good.”

You remember that he was hard again and open your eyes to look at him, “Do you need me to… are… do you need help?” You have a hard time phrasing your question.

He looks away from you, his cheeks a light pink, “I am fine…”

You object, “But you didn’t–”

“–I did.”

Your eyes widen in understanding and then you feel incredibly hot in the face, “Oh.”

He hums at you and changes the topic, “Are you satisfied?”

“For now,” you smile cheekily at him.

He leans down to you and presses a soft kiss to your lips, “I think… you might be trying to kill me.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you raise a brow to him.

“Mhmm,” he dismisses before leaning in to kiss you again.

His lips are gentle and he’s being tender with you, kissing you sweetly after making you cum for him three times. His warm hand skates along your skin, the action raises your skin and you press closer to him, seeking his warmth.

He parts from you and pulls the blanket over the two of you, your hand tangles in his hair again, this time brushing it with your fingers, playing with it mindlessly. You end up scratching at his scalp lightly and he melts for you, enjoying the feeling. You play with his hair for a while but everything is heavy, including your eyelids.

You pull your hand from his hair and instead wrap it around him, tugging him close, he tickles your back as you fall in and out of sleep, you aren’t sure how long he stays awake for but wrapped in his arms, warm and content, you drift to sleep not too long after he presses a small, final kiss to your lips.

₊ ⊹

A/N: Thank you for reading the whole thing, holy cow !! I hope you enjoyed it and I hope it fulfilled everyone’s expectations. As always my inbox is open for questions, thoughts and feelings, don’t hesitate to slide in. I hope everyone has a beautiful day/night and I will now be preparing to write just friends part 2 !! <33

#mk1 smut #mk1 2023 #fanfic #smut #kuai liang x you smut #kuai liang x reader smut #kuai liang x you #kuai liang smut #kuai liang x reader #scorpion x reader smut #scorpion smut #scorpion x reader

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sinkovia · 9 months ago

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Consequences: Alternative Ending

-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Mention of blood.

Consequences

As Simon drove to the bar, guilt weighed heavily on him, pressing down on his chest like a leaden weight. What was he doing? Not only had he put his hands on you, but he had also broken the promise you both made to each other.

What was he thinking, treating you like that? Speaking to you in such a hurtful manner when everything had been entirely his fault?

With each passing moment, the gravity of his actions sank deeper into his conscience, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of remorse and self-loathing that consumed him.

As he drove, his mind raced with thoughts of you, the pain he had caused, and the irreparable damage he had wrought upon your relationship. The realization of his own behavior filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.

Unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer, Simon made a U-turn, the screech of tires against asphalt echoing in the quiet night, and began driving back to the house.

Every mile brought him closer to you, to the chance of making things right, of seeking forgiveness for his unforgivable actions. He couldn't believe what had gotten into him, how he could have hurt the one person he loved and cared about most in his life.

He would make amends, he would get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, and he would do whatever it took to repair the damage he had caused.

Just as he began retracing his steps back home, his phone began to ring, and he saw your caller ID flashing on the screen. He answered, putting you on speaker as he focused on the road ahead.

"Sweetheart, I'm so-" His words faltered as he heard your cry of pain echoing through the phone. His heart seized in his chest as he listened to your strained voice.

"Simon, something's wrong with the baby, it hurts, it hurts so much, I don't know what to do." Every word pierced through him like a dagger.

His heart plummeted as he listened to your cries, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. “I’m coming, sweetheart. Just hold on. I’m two minutes away, baby.” Simon reassured you, his voice laced with urgency and fear.

Your cries of pain tore at his soul, and tears blurred his vision as he raced home.

Simon wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he found himself praying fervently to any higher power that would listen. He prayed for your safety, for the well-being of your unborn child. He knew that this was his punishment, his reckoning for the harm he had caused.

"Simon I cant-"

A sudden thud on the other end of the phone made his stomach plummet. His heart pounded against his chest as panic seized him, his hands trembling and slick with sweat.

"Y/n, baby, what was that? Are you okay?" Simon's voice cracked with worry, but he was met only with silence. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he sprinted to the front door as soon as he pulled into the driveway.

With a forceful push, he burst through the door, his eyes scanning the rooms in a desperate search for you. "Y/n, where are you?" he called out frantically, his heart hammering in his chest.

Racing to the bathroom, his worst fears were confirmed as he found you unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath you. "Fuck, no, no, no," he muttered under his breath, his hands shaking as he scooped you up into his arms.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to open your eyes for me," he pleaded as he carried you to the car, buckling you into the passenger seat. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other periodically checking your pulse, Simon sped towards the hospital with a single-minded determination.

Simon burst into the ER with you cradled in his arms. The nurses sprang into action, swiftly transferring you onto a stretcher and wheeling you away to the surgery room.

The sight of you, unconscious sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He paced the waiting room, unable to sit still as his hands shook with fear and anxiety.

Sinking into a chair, Simon buried his face in his hands, consumed by guilt. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had caused your suffering, that his actions caused you stress and had put you and the baby in danger.

With each passing second, Simon's mind raced with a litany of regrets and what-ifs. If you didn't make it through this, he knew he would never forgive himself. The thought of losing you, the love of his life, because of his own actions was unbearable. All he could do now was wait, gripped by the crushing weight of uncertainty.

When the nurse finally called his name, Simon practically bolted from his seat, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Simon's voice was filled with anxiety as he pleaded for reassurance.

The nurse motioned for him to follow her, and Simon eagerly complied, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Your wife and baby are okay, but there are some complications with the pregnancy,” she began, her tone grave. Simon's breath caught in his throat, fear gripping him like a vise. He willed the nurse to walk faster, desperate for answers.

“The placenta began to detach from the uterine wall, pressing against the cervix, resulting in bleeding. While the placenta has stabilized for now, if it continues to dislodge, there's a risk of miscarriage. However, if she reaches the thirty-two-week mark, premature delivery is an option, with the hope that the baby can complete development in the NICU.”

Simon listened intently, absorbing every word with a sinking feeling in his chest. “Is there anything we can do to prevent her placenta from pushing further down?” his voice laced with desperation.

The nurse shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately not. What will help is bed rest—no walking or any physical movement that would cause her uterus to push the placenta further down.”

“So she’ll stay here until the baby is delivered?”

“Yes,” the nurse confirmed as she opened the door to your room. As Simon rushed to your side, his eyes filled with tears, you turned your head to meet his gaze. With a weak smile, you reached out to touch his cheek as he gently cupped your face.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so so sorry, this is all my fault,” Simon whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You shook your head gently, “It’s okay, what matters is that you answered. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t.”

Simon's head dropped against your hand, “I should have never said those things to you, I should have never put my hands on you like that, I should have never broken our promise. I don’t know what I was thinking love, I'm so sorry.”

You gazed into his eyes, seeing the remorse and regret etched in his expression. Despite the pain and uncertainty swirling around you, you found it in your heart to forgive him.

“I forgive you, Simon. We'll get through this together, okay?”

He nodded, his grip tightening on your hand as he leaned in to kiss you gently on the forehead. "I love you so much,"

Simon's hand gently cupped your cheek again, his thumb moving back and forth. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured, his gaze shifting to your stomach. “How do you feel?”

“I feel a bit uncomfortable, but I'm okay,” you replied, gently moving your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Simon exhaled deeply, nodding in relief. “I'm glad.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and both of you turned your attention to the doctor walking in, followed by a nurse wheeling in a machine.

“I was told you didn't know the gender of your baby,” You nodded in confirmation, exchanging a glance with Simon as your anticipation grew.

“This here is an ultrasound machine. You both can listen to your baby’s heartbeat, and we can find out if it’s a boy or girl,” the doctor explained. Simon's grip on your hand tightened, and you offered him a reassuring smile, though your thoughts lingered on the safety of your baby.

“This won’t hurt them or make the placenta move?” you asked with concern. The doctor shook her head. “No, everything is safe for you and the baby,” she reassured.

Simon leaned closer to you, anticipation and nerves intertwining as the doctor prepared the ultrasound machine. The room seemed to hold its breath as the gel was applied to your bump, and the doctor began to maneuver the wand.

Then, there it was—a steady, rhythmic thumping sound filling the room. Your baby's heartbeat, strong and clear, echoed through the space. Tears started spilling from your eyes, and Simon let out a choked sob as your grip on each other's hand tightened, your eyes still glued to the screen.

Simon's voice caught in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. In that moment, as you listened to the steady beat of your baby's heart, you felt an unbreakable bond between the three of you, a love so deep and pure that it brought tears of joy to your eyes.

The doctor continued to shift the camera around until she got a better angle and took a few pictures. She gasped and smiled, “Are you ready?” You quickly nodded your head, gripping onto Simon's hand harder.

“You guys are having a baby girl!” the doctor announced. You sobbed out and smiled, turning to Simon, whose tears prickled off his eyelashes, the joy in his heart insurmountable. He cupped your face and kissed you.

“Congratulations! I’ll give you both some time to yourselves,” the doctor said before leaving the room.

"We're having a little girl, sweetheart," Simon couldn't contain his excitement, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he showered you with kisses.

"We can finally pick a name!" Your eyes sparkled with joy as you looked up at him. He gently took your hand and planted soft kisses on your knuckles, each one filled with love.

"Did you have any names in mind, love?" Simon asked, his eyes filled with anticipation as he awaited your response. Your smile softened as you gazed up at him, a glint of excitement in your eyes.

"Yeah, I was thinking about Marie…" you began, the name of Simon's late mother rolling off your tongue with a sense of reverence and love.

Simon's smile widened, his eyes glistening. "Marie Riley, that's a beautiful name, love," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with affection. "I know," you replied, gently cupping his cheek, feeling a sense of warmth and connection in choosing a name that honored his family.

The next two and a half months passed by in a blur, the days blending into one another as you remained confined to the hospital bed. Simon never left your side, his presence a constant source of comfort and support.

Every morning, he would slip out to your favorite breakfast place, returning with a tray of steaming hot food just in time for your waking moment. His care and attention were evident in every detail, from the way he fluffed your pillows to the gentle way he brushed your hair away from your face.

During lunchtime, he would disappear briefly, only to return with a homemade meal that he had lovingly prepared himself. The aroma of his cooking would fill the room, warming your heart as much as your stomach.

In the evenings, he would set up your new laptop, eager to continue your tradition of watching your favorite show together. He would sit beside you, holding your hand as you laughed.

And every week, like clockwork, he would arrive with a fresh bouquet of flowers, the vibrant colors brightening up the sterile hospital room. His apologies were a constant refrain, a reminder of the regret he felt for his actions on that fateful day.

Despite the passage of time, his remorse never wavered, his determination to make things right driving him to do everything in his power to ensure your comfort and happiness. Each day was a testament to his love for you, a promise to never let you down again.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Simon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. You reached up and cupped his cheek, offering him a reassuring smile. “Simon, it's okay, really it is. We’re okay, I’m safe, Marie is safe, you’re safe. That’s all that matters now.” Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his softly.

“I love you, Simon, always,” you murmured as you pulled away, looking up at him with affection. Simon's gaze softened, filled with so much love it made your heart swell. “I love you more, Y/n,” he replied tenderly.

You shook your head teasingly. “Impossible, there's no way—”

But your words were cut short as a sharp, searing pain tore through you. You screamed out in sheer agony, gripping Simon's arm tightly. “I think the baby is coming,” you managed to gasp between breaths, the pain radiating through your entire body.

Simon's eyes widened in alarm, and he immediately called for a nurse. A group of them rushed in, swiftly wheeling your bed to the delivery room. Simon stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand firmly as you braved through the intense waves of pain.

“I can't… it hurts, it hurts so much,” you cried out, your voice trembling with agony. Simon grabbed a small rag, wiping the sweat from your forehead, his eyes filled with worry.

“They're going to give you a shot for the pain right now, sweetheart. You need to try and sit still, can you do that for me, baby?” Simon's voice was gentle yet urgent as tears began to gloss your eyes. Despite the agony, you nodded, bracing yourself for the needle.

The momentary distraction of the shot didn't alleviate the excruciating pain coursing through your body. After a few minutes, you were still in agony, the intensity no less than before.

“It hurts, it hurts so much, I can't take it, I feel like I'm being torn apart,” you sobbed, your voice filled with anguish. Simon cursed under his breath, frustration evident on his face. The epidural had failed, leaving you to endure the pain without relief.

The nurses worked tirelessly to make you as comfortable as possible, while the doctor instructed you to begin pushing. Each push felt like an insurmountable feat as you cried out, clawing into Simon's arm for support.

“You can do this, sweetheart. Just one big push, I know you can do it, love,” Simon encouraged, his voice unwavering despite the tears in his eyes. He gently wiped the sweat from your forehead as you struggled through the pain.

With each push, you felt as though you were reaching your breaking point. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Simon felt utterly helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease your suffering.

“Just a few more pushes, the baby is almost out,” the doctor reassured, urging you to keep going.

Simon squeezed your hand tighter, his voice trembling with emotion. “Just a few more pushes, love. You’re almost there, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his heart breaking with each scream of pain that echoed through the room.

The baby finally emerged, and the doctor immediately began stimulating her chest. “Why isn't she crying? Is she okay? Is my baby okay?” You sobbed, your heart pounding with fear. Simon's eyes were wide with worry as he watched the doctor work, his hand gripping yours tightly.

Then, Marie’s cry pierced the air, filling the room with relief as both you and Simon let out a sigh of relief. Tears streamed down your cheeks as they gently placed Marie on your chest, her tiny body nestled against yours.

You kissed the top of your daughter's forehead, your breaths becoming increasingly labored. “Are you okay, love?” Simon's voice was filled with concern as he glanced at the doctor and then to your heart monitor, which showed your heart rate declining.

“What’s happening? Why is her heart rate dropping so quickly?” Simon was panicking as he looked from the doctor to you. Your head was tilted back against the pillow, your eyes half-lidded as you gazed at Marie.

“She’s losing too much blood,” the doctor explained gravely.

Simon's heart sank as he watched your eyes flutter closed, the heart monitor reading a flatline, the sound echoing in his ears.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered frantically, his hands shaking as the nurses handed him Marie. The sound of Marie crying seemed distant as he focused solely on the constant, agonizing sound of your flatline.

The nurse grabbed the defibrillator and yelled "clear" before administering a shock to your chest. Simon's gaze never left your face, his tears falling freely as he gently held his daughter, the weight of fear heavy in his heart.

“Clear!” Each shock caused your chest to lift up, but still, the ringing of the flatline on the heart monitor remained unchanged.

Simon's world shattered as he watched the nurses desperately trying to save you. He begged and pleaded with them, his voice choked with fear and desperation, as they worked frantically to revive you.

Despite their efforts, the defibrillator failed to bring you back. Your body unable to withstand the trauma of childbirth.

Simon watched helplessly as the nurse put the pads down and the room fell silent, the only sound being the relentless sound of the flatline, a cruel reminder of the fragile line between life and death.

"What are you doing? Do it again!" Simon's voice reverberated through the room, filled with desperation and anguish.

The nurses and doctor exchanged somber glances, their silence speaking volumes. "I’m sorry-" the doctor began, but Simon cut her off with a choked voice, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

"No, don't fucking apologize. Don't you dare fucking apologize. You bring her back, goddamn it!"

Simon’s breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every sob. Tears streamed down his face, his voice trembling with emotion. "You have to bring her back, please. I'm begging you, please just try again."

Simon was consumed by a profound sense of loss and emptiness. The love of his life, the mother of his child, was gone, leaving behind a void. It was as if a part of him had been torn away, leaving him adrift in a sea of grief with no hope of salvation.

As the reality of your death settled over him like a suffocating blanket, Simon felt as though his own heart had stopped beating. The world around him seemed to fade into a blur of pain and sorrow, each breath a struggle against the weight of his grief.

But amidst the darkness, a small glimmer of light emerged. Marie's cries ceased, and Simon's gaze fell upon her tiny face. Her eyes, wide and curious, mirrored yours in a hauntingly familiar way. It was as if you were looking back at him through her innocent gaze.

Sinking into the nearest chair, Simon cradled Marie close to his chest, his tears mingling with hers as he mourned your loss. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, the words a futile attempt to convey the depth of his remorse.

An apology meant for you, for all the things left unsaid and undone, for the pain he had caused, for everything he had done wrong, a lament for the loss of both you and the life you had dreamed of together.

As he held Marie in his arms, Simon couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

This was the consequence for his actions.

If only he hadn't acted the way he did towards you, if only he had been more understanding and supportive, maybe you wouldn't have faced such complications in your pregnancy. Maybe, just maybe, you would still be alive, smiling beside him as you marveled at your daughter together.

But now, as he cradled your daughter next to your lifeless body, Simon realized the cruel irony of life's give and take. Marie would forever be a bittersweet reminder of the love you had shared, a beacon of hope in the darkness of his grief.

Every time he looked at her, he would see traces of you in her eyes, hear echoes of your laughter in hers. And though the pain of your absence would never truly fade, Simon knew that he would do everything in his power to honor your memory and protect the precious gift you had left behind.

Tag list: @shinchanboi

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cherriegyuu · 9 months ago

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midnight rain | lsm

pairing: seokmin x f!reader genre: angst, smut, a little bit of fluff word count: 17k summary: after seven years away, you finally return home. meeting seokmin again wasn't in your plans, but life wasn't willing to let you have it your way. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, oral, swearing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested the dearest @ressonancee. but also, it's part of svt ans songs from midnights. i just wrote two in one and something that was supposed to be short became this monster. i hope i wrote seokmin in a way you'll like it. prompt: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do." Seokmin ➝ Midnight Rain He was sunshine, I was midnight rain ↳ it was the oldest story in the world, the bright boy fell for the grumpy girl.

Letter #1

Seokmin,

You know, I've always been very proud of not being a very attached person. I've always been proud that I can put myself first and second, because I know I need to do it, because I know that no one else will do it for me. So, when I came here and dropped everything I had, I thought it would be a lot easier than it actually is.

When I turn around in bed at night, after days of trying to get used to the time zone and weeks to the weather and the people here — which are both bad and for completely different reasons, nothing is like in the movies — I always hope to find you there by my side and being able to snuggle up to you like I always did. I wake up in the morning and make enough coffee for two people and take two mugs out of the cupboard, and only then do I realize I'm alone here. I don't need two mugs and I made too much coffee. Sometimes, in the middle of the day, I find myself typing your number, which I have memorized despite the fact that no one remembers phone numbers, because phones exist for a reason.

You have no idea how much I miss you and what I would do to be able to hear your voice again. I would do anything, I swear I could. But I know I no longer have that right. I know that what I did is unforgivable and although I want your forgiveness, I hope you never forget what I did to you.

You were still good to me on the last day. You took me to the airport, you said goodbye to me, you hugged me tight like you know I like it and you did your best not to shed a tear in front of me.

Every now and then I catch myself thinking that I messed up. I could have done my master's where we graduated, I didn't need to move to the other side of the world and leave the life I knew behind. But at the same time, I accept it. Coming here was my dream, it was always what I dreamed of even when you were by my side as well. And maybe that's why I never told you about the application, about being approved. Maybe I waited until the end, until the very last second to tell you because I knew you were the only one capable of changing my mind.

When I was by your side, I started to dream of a different life, a life that had you at all times and in all aspects. But, as you may have already noticed, I chose my first dream.

I know I won't regret it. I can't afford to regret it. You’ll become who you always wanted to be and I’ll be there to give you a standing ovation. Not there, next to you, but from afar.

“That was Sunday Morning, by Hong Joshua. Ah, whenever I hear this song I remember my college days. I've said this here a few times, and I think I sound like a broken record by this point, but Joshua and I went to the same college and he was always singing this song in the hallways. Any small gathering between friends he would pull out the guitar and sing. So I'm sorry, but you're going to have to listen to this song at least once a week for the next year. Or until he releases the next one.”

Seokmin looked at the monitor to his right as a pre-recorded commercial for the next show started. The comments were going up too quickly, which made reading them an almost impossible mission.

On the other side of the glass, Chan made a sign indicating that the commercial was over. Seokmin looked at his friend as he lowered one finger after another and finally pointed at him. Chan placed a sheet of paper, which was always used, against the glass, which said “last, chat”. Indicating that he still had one more question to answer.

“We have time for one more question” Seokmin said, opening the internal chat he used with the other radio employees and read the question that Chan had sent “I ended a relationship of almost four years a few months ago, but I still can't understand what happened. I haven't even returned his things yet. How do I get in touch saying I want to return it?”

Seokmin swallowed. He knew that Chan hadn't done it on purpose, that he had no way of knowing everything that had happened between him and you, but he hated how much the question resonated in his head. It was a feeling he shared and for him it had been a little worse because you lived together during your last year of college. So when he entered the house and saw all the furniture, the decorations, your clothes still in the closet, it was like entering a time machine. In that 30 square meter space, for a few minutes, you still hadn't left.

He took a deep breath, away from the microphone so the sound wouldn't be picked, and leaned forward.

“It's a difficult question, really. If it's been a few months and he still hasn't picked his things up, it's because he doesn't need them, so I don't think you should bother contacting him. Hmmm”

He bit his lip and rested his elbows on the table, thinking if he should continue talking or if it would be better to stop there. Seokmin always thought it was better not to let personal feelings show on the radio, but he had moments when he couldn't follow his own rules.

“I can tell you from experience that sometimes silence is better. Because if you know the truth, it could hurt you even more. When I was in a similar situation, after a while I simply discarded the person's belongings. At first, it will be difficult, because you’ll see that shirt you gave as a gift, that letter you wrote and remember what it meant, the moment you gave those things to him. But little by little you will achieve it. Don't feel obligated to just move on when you're not ready. People will always tell you that it's about time, that it's been so many weeks or months. You’re the one who knows about your feelings.”

Chan knocked on the glass again, almost desperate because Seokmin's answer had been too long. It wasn't the first time he had gotten lost in what he was saying and maybe had been talking in circles. It always happened that he remembered you when he answered a question.

And in that specific question he was being a hypocrite because he knew that if he opened his closet, deep inside it, he would find at least two boxes full of your things hidden. He rarely went near those boxes, he liked to pretend they didn't exist and most days he managed to achieve that thought. But there were other days…

“So we come to the end of another Cupid's Corner with Minnie. See you again next week. Cupid’s Corner with Minnie: Unveiling Love’s Melody, One Relationship at a Time!”

Seokmin removed his headphones, stood up, and waved at the cameras he knew were pointed at him. He grabbed his phone and the bottle of water he always carried with him. The red light above the door finally went out and Seokmin left the studio.

Immediately, Chan appeared beside him. He had just gone blond, and it strangely suited him.

He knew the youngest was desperate, not that he was doing a good job of hiding it. The disheveled hair, pointing in all directions, also helped a lot.

“You’re going to have a heart attack if you continue like this” Seokmin said laughing.

Chan was the newest employee, handpicked by Seokmin a few months before. Seokmin needed someone to help him organize the broadcasts after his previous assistant quit because she had gotten a job in the field she had studied. Seokmin even talked to her and offered a higher salary that would come out of his own pocket, but nothing seemed to help. Not that he blamed her, in her place he would have done the same thing. But in the position he was in, changes made him uncomfortable so he did what he could to make sure everything stayed the same.

Maybe it was trauma.

“It’s because they yell at me, not you.”

One of the reasons Seokmin chose Chan as his new assistant was his sincerity. In the middle of the interview he “I think there are things in your program that need to change” and started listing things that he thought were dated or ideas that had been used too much and therefore didn't have the same effect on listeners. The others had found him presumptuous as if he wanted to know more than those who worked at the radio. Seokmin disagreed and that's how Chan got the job.

“They yell at you because you’re the new guy, no one yelled at Jiah”

Chan made a sound in the back of his throat, like a scoff.

“That's because everyone was afraid of her” Seokmin rolled his eyes and reached for the folder Chan was carrying “Oh, right. Tomorrow is your lecture for the communication classes, but they said it is possible that students from other courses will also be there, because it’llll be in the auditorium”

Seokmin nodded, reading the guidelines Chan had made. He needed to admit that he was organized and had absolute control over everything he did. He was sure that if he asked about Wonwoo's program, Chan would know how to answer as if he worked directly with him.

“You know how it is, I have fans” Chan pretended to vomit “If you go tomorrow, we’ll go out to dinner later, I’ll pay”

"Deal"

Seokmin always found it strange to be called to give lectures at the college where he studied. He wasn't a teacher and he didn't think he had done enough to be someone who could give advice to someone. In fact, Seokmin was sure he hadn't done anything big. His life, to put it very simply, was flat. At least, almost all of his life.

Seokmin has always been the type of guy who makes plans and follows through on those plans. When he was sixteen he got it into his head that he wanted to work in radio. It wasn't without reasons, of course. He joined the school radio and despite doing very little, because the school director had to know everything that would be done, even the nouns he would use in the sentence, he fell in love with the idea. That's why he decided he should study journalism in college, that way even if his radio career didn't work out, he would still have a profession.

But his dream was to work on a radio, to have his own program. So that's what he did.

He entered college as planned, sunk into student debt, and graduated exactly as he had planned. In his last semester, he got an internship at the biggest radio station in the country. He was on cloud nine. It was as if he had received the green light in life and everything was on the right track.

At least that's what he thought. At least that was what he had forced himself to believe. The internship became a permanent position and one day he just happened to be in the right place at the right time. That's why he never felt prepared to give anyone advice. Despite having decided on the career he wanted to pursue, he knew that he also needed to count on a little luck and help. The only words he could offer were “you work hard, study, make contacts, and throw the rest into luck’s hands”. It wasn't the kind of thing he wanted to hear when he was a student looking forward to the future, so he certainly wouldn't say it to anyone.

However, Chan convinced him that it would be a good idea to give the talk.

“You’re going to tell me how you got here, that’s all. An unknown face who quickly went on air to cover someone for one of the most beloved radio broadcasters in the country. I'm sure if you say that shit fell on your head, they'll like it” Chan had said laughing.

Overall the lecture went very well. Better than expected. He answered the questions as honestly as possible and used his best smile to get rid of the more awkward questions.

Despite the good day, he knew he didn't want to repeat the dose anytime soon.

“They want to know if you would be willing to do one of these a semester” Chan whispered because he knew the answer Seokmin would give, so it was better for the students not to hear.

“No” was all Seokmin said “But I’ll still buy you dinner”

Chan punched the air in celebration, catching the eyes of those around him, but he seemed to care very little.

"I just…"

What Seokmin was about to say, an announcement that he needed to go to the bathroom, died in his throat as he looked straight ahead.

Letter #2

Seokmin,

I thought I would be able to adapt faster here. It was very hard in the beginning with transport, getting around in general was very difficult. So I chose a weekend and went walking around the neighborhood where I live. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I thought I should check it out. Besides, I can wake up in the middle of the night and decide that I want to eat something that I don't have at home, so it's good to know if there are any stores or markets that open in the middle of the night (in this neighborhood there aren't any, maybe that's why I won’t stay here).

I discovered that going out there, although productive, wasn't such a good idea. Nothing wrong happened, I didn't get hit on or someone was rude to me. Quite the contrary, most people pretended they weren't even seeing me. The problem was that everything made me think about you.

I walked by the store that sold a lot of random old things and decided to go in. You know I love filling the house with trinkets. I didn't find anything there that I liked, but I saw that they were selling camera films. For a moment I forgot everything that had happened and all I could think was, I think Seokmin is running out of film, I need to buy more because he will only realize when he doesn't have any left.

I bought it and brought it to the apartment. I opened the door and called your name. It was only later, when I noticed where I was, that it wasn't our apartment, that I realized what I had done.

Even without meaning to, even when I try not to, I find myself looking for you. Everywhere. I go to a restaurant and think about what you would like to eat, I see a dog on the street and I imagine you bending down to pet it. It's not on purpose, I just can't help it. I try, but it's in vain.

I wonder if it will pass. Will this feeling that I succeeded in my career but ruined my personal life disappear or will I feel like this forever — or at least for a good few years?

yn.

It was as if all the air had been ripped from your lungs and there was no way in the world to get you to breathe.

Somehow, some way, Seokmin was standing in front of you, in the middle of the college hallway.

For a moment it was as if you had been transported back in time, to when you were still 22 years old. In another moment you would have simply run up to him and thrown yourself into his arms as if you hadn't spent the whole night clinging to him, as if you hadn't seen each other before classes, as if you hadn't shared the smallest space in the world on the subway for 20 minutes. And your body seemed to remember all of this, like some kind of muscle memory, because you felt like you were being projected forward. Towards him.

You thought Seokmin would talk to you, you were sure he would. But you saw the way his gaze changed, the way it went from complete surprise to a hard look, completely different from anything you had ever seen from him.

In your memory, Seokmin was always brilliant and was always willing to welcome everyone with open arms, even when he felt more shy. You didn’t understand, that look he gave you was completely different from what you imagined could happen.

When you made the decision to return, you knew that there was a possibility of meeting Seokmin, no matter how small it was. You didn't know if he was still friends with the same people, if he still kept in touch with them. You certainly hadn't kept in touch with anyone - except for the two times you talked to Joshua. The possibility existed, but being realistic you knew it was as big as winning the lottery.

Of all the places you thought you could find Seokmin, college was the last one and maybe that was even why you accepted the job. When you were taking the last tests, the ones that would say whether you would graduate at the end of the semester or not, Seokmin was categorical in saying that he would never set foot inside college again. So you thought it was a place he would never go, but there he was. And in your first week, when you needed everything to go well. Not to show that you were ready and that you could do the job, but to reassure yourself that you had made the right choice in accepting the job.

You didn't have time to decide whether to talk to him or not. Seokmin made the decision for both of you. He continued walking as if you weren't there, talking to the boy next to him, laughing. The only indication that he knew who you were was silent once and one that only you could distinguish.

He turned around and left as if nothing had happened.

Was it possible that only you had felt that way? That just your heart had decided it didn't know how to beat, as if a storm was raging inside your body?

You didn't have time to analyze what had just happened. You just forced yourself to take a deep breath and also keep walking as if those brief seconds weren't enough to make your entire world turn completely upside down.

Seokmin dragged his feet into the room, tripping over the rug at the foot of the bed. A curse came out of his mouth, followed by a burp. When he invited Chan to dinner he had no intention of ending the night drunk, being carried home like someone who had just had his first drink.

It had been years since he had gotten that bad and it was comical that the previous occasion was also connected to you.

The memory of leaving you at the airport, on a flight in the middle of the night, was still vivid in Seokmin's mind. Worse than that memory, was the one of you telling him that you had gotten a place in a master's degree on the other side of the world, 18 hours before leaving the country.

“I need to tell you something” you said as he pulled his coat over his head and patted his pockets, making sure he had grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. He needed to leave as quickly as possible, he was already late.

Seokmin had plans to ask you to marry him. He had rented a house where you could spend the weekend, where it would be possible to see the stars. He had prepared himself, but he needed to leave right that second so he would have enough time to go to the house, get everything ready and come back to get you. The owner of the house would help him, since Seokmin decided that he wouldn't tell any of his friends because they might just ruin the surprise.

“I'm already late” he said, quickly looking at his watch. "Did something happen?"

He asked, noticing your already somewhat desperate look. He knew that whatever had happened couldn't be good.

To be honest, he had noticed that something was wrong a few weeks before, and for a while, he decided it would be better not to get into it too much. He knew you well enough to know that you would offer the information when you felt ready to do so. But thinking back on everything, he wished he had asked before, he wished he hadn't given you space, he wished he had forced you to talk to him sooner.

“I passed my master’s degree abroad”

Seokmin’s first reaction was to be happy for you. He knew how much you wanted that, that it was your dream. So he did what any boyfriend would do, he hugged you and congratulated you, told you that you had tried so hard and that they would be idiots not to accept you. The feeling was true and his smile was genuine. He was happy for you.

Knowing what he knew, every now and then Seokmin wondered if he would have done anything differently if he knew what the next words would be out of your mouth. He could have made a fuss, he could have begged you to stay, he could have offered to go with you. But at the time he didn't do any of that.

“I’m leaving today, I need to be at the airport at 11 pm”

Seokmin's ears rang deafeningly. It was as if he had been punched and needed to brace himself against something. The sofa was the closest piece of furniture.

He thought he heard it wrong, he wished he was dreaming, but all he had to do was look at you. It was true. It was as if a puzzle was being completed in Seokmin's mind. The way you had suddenly become distant, how every time he entered the room you hurried to change or close whatever you were looking at on the computer. He didn't even know you signed up. He imagined that you must have done some kind of test, some interview and he didn't even know anything about it.

He had no idea.

Had he been a bad boyfriend, someone who was so focused on making the long-awaited proposal that he had ignored everything else? Or had you hidden it so well that he hadn't noticed?

"What? You’re leaving today?"

It was like the world was spinning too fast and he was trying to keep up with what was happening. It was like being on a roller coaster that kept on falling. He remembered well how the little box with the ring he had carefully chosen weighed in his pocket.

“I didn’t even know you had applied for a position” he whispered, almost just to himself “You didn’t tell me”

And it was at that exact moment, when he looked at you, that Seokmin realized that your relationship was over. You avoided looking at him, your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your coat, which was his. He saw your eyes fill with tears, you swallow hard, and remain silent.

It was unlike you, to stay quiet when you had too many things going through your head. He desperately wanted you to talk to him, to tell him what had been going through your head. He just wanted to understand. Did you believe he would somehow stop you from going? If there was one thing he knew about you, it was the fact that you always put your education first. It wasn't a secret and you didn't want it to be. He just didn't expect things to happen that way.

Seokmin sat in front of the closet, on the floor, and with difficulty opened the doors. Deep in the back, behind several shoe boxes, were two old boxes that he hadn't moved in years. Part of him wished the things inside the boxes were ruined, that they had mold and anything else that could ruin its content. But he had been careful, kept everything in order, taken all necessary precautions, and cleaned the closet periodically.

He ignored the first box and pulled the smaller one towards him, placing it on his bent legs. Seokmin wasn't one to revisit those memories, he liked to keep them as far away from him as possible, but on nights like those, it was impossible.

Seokmin knew what he would find and was sure how he would feel, but he still took the lid off the box, but he didn't dare take out any of the items inside it.

He knew he had reached his lowest point when he was holding on to memories he had of you and not focusing on what was actually happening in his life.

Letter #3

Seokmin,

I talked to Joshua today. Talk is a bit too strong of a word. We exchanged a few words on Instagram. He posted a photo and I liked it, he sent me a DM asking if I was ok and how things were going. I lied, of course. He said everything was fine and he was happy. He didn't talk about you and I didn't ask.

It was very hard to contain myself. I want to know how you are. The more selfish part of my brain wants you to be just as bad as I feel. You know that little demon that sits on our shoulder? He assures me you're even worse. And I hate to think that's the case, but at the same time, I'm sure you're not okay. I know you, we dated for four years, we lived together for almost two years

You were always the more emotional one of the two of us. You were never afraid to show your feelings, not for me or anyone else. You always loved so openly, without any fear. I admit that at first, it scared me a little.

I was an 18-year-old girl who came from a family that had no idea how to show affection, so I was always more reserved in that aspect. And there you were with your beautiful, bright smile, with open arms, affectionate with anyone who came along. I thought you were a crazy person who didn't have the slightest notion of the world. It took a while for me to realize that your world was brighter than mine in ways I couldn't understand.

You were always so untethered, free, showing yourself to anyone who had eyes. When I was closed and more reclusive, you were open and expansive. When I was very shy or reserved, you were more charming and brighter than usual. Not even my worst mood, which seemed endless at times, was a problem for you.

One day you just showed up and decided that you would stay by my side, no matter what. Believe me when I say, I tried to push you away. But with each passing day you were further under my skin.

A kiss at a random party turned into a date at every party, parties became meetings at the college library, which led to coffee dates. One day you decided at the end of each date you had to take me back to the dorms and you kissed me for a long time on the side of the building where no one could see — or at least I made myself believe no one did. Then that alone wasn't enough and you were always with your fingers intertwined with mine, or your arm around my waist. And kisses were no longer reserved for empty streets, of course not. You kissed me anywhere, anytime, no matter who was watching.

You were sneaky, Seokmin.

When I realized it, I was in love with you. Your arms were my refuge. You were my safe space. My home.

yn.

You hated that Seokmin’s reaction, or lack thereof, had gotten to you so much. It was like being punched, and then one more, soon the punch became a beating and to finish with a flourish, it was as if a truck had run over you.

You had plans to go out at the weekend, though alone. Everything was so different, the places you knew no longer existed and friends from the past no longer spoke to you. You would have to rediscover the city without anyone's help. Despite your plans, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the house.

When you decided to return, you knew there would be no way to escape Seokmin. He had become successful not only in his career as a broadcaster but also as a celebrity of sorts. You never imagined you would see his face in magazines or on billboards selling fried chicken. You didn't expect that when you turned on the TV you would see his face in different programs.

In fact, you knew all of that was happening, but somehow you managed to convince yourself that you wouldn't have to see any of it. You managed to make yourself believe that you would not be haunted by his images and voice.

When you were away, you always listened to his programs, more than once each one, but it was almost like a relationship between fan and celebrity. You could separate very well what was him and what was you. But being there, in the same country, in the same city, it was much more difficult to make that separation.

Because once you were back, Seokmin was no longer just the radio host with a show about relationships. Far from it. Seokmin was your college sweetheart, the guy whose heart you broke but who, even after seven years, was still in love with.

That was the reality. you were still in love with him. There was no relationship in the world, no man in the world, that would have made you forget about Seokmin. Sometimes it worked, sometimes you managed to forget about him for a few months and that feeling of loss, of emptiness, that had settled deep inside your heart became smaller and smaller. And then it would come back full on as if it had never left.

Maybe that was your curse, your punishment for leaving behind someone you could have spent the rest of your life with. And somehow you knew you would have been happy. Or at least a different kind of happiness.

After spending the weekend holed up inside your apartment, after convincing yourself that you needed to prepare for teaching classes and unpacking the move, she decided that on Tuesday night she would explore the city.

Exploring wasn't the right word. You had discovered that one of your favorite restaurants still existed, it had just changed location. And, despite being on the other side of the city and being completely aware that you would have to pay a fortune for a taxi or risk taking the subway alone almost at closing time, you decided to go anyway.

You needed to feel like one thing hadn't changed, or at least still be recognizable.

You heard your name being called a few minutes after sitting down. You raised your head, recognizing the voice, but couldn't tell who it belonged to. Directly in front of you was a woman, with short hair, in her fifties.

“It’s really you!”

You stood up and a second later you were being hugged. Maybe you had gone there for that reason, knowing that there would be someone there who would recognize you. Or at least you hoped there was. And when you were welcomed with open arms by her owner, Niah, you wanted to cry for the first time in a long time.

“Hi” was all you could offer, your voice weak.

You quickly turned your face away, trying to be discreet as you wiped away your tears. The last thing you wanted was to cry in front of someone else. Tears were reserved for dark moments in the silence of your apartment, they weren't meant to be seen by people you didn't even know in a crowded restaurant.

“Look how beautiful you look. You haven't been around for so long. Seokmin told us that you had gone abroad to study, but I thought you would come back sooner.”

You just managed to smile, even though it was embarrassing. It was strange to hear his name coming out of someone else's mouth so easily. For years, his name was just an echo in your own mind, almost as if it were a fantasy of yours.

There were days when you managed to convince yourself of this, that Seokmin was nothing more than a dream.

“Are you just visiting or are you back to stay?”

“I'm staying” you said after a second, when you managed to find your voice again “I got a job here, I have nowhere to run”

Niah laughed and hugged you once again, tighter this time.

"Great, that makes me happy. We always miss you” Niah smiled and ran her fingers down your cheeks, brushing away some tears that were stubborn to fall “What do you want to eat? Today it's on the house. Consider it a welcome gift.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in your throat and the remaining tears.

"What do you recommend?"

The amazing thing about meeting Niah again was that she still acted exactly the same way. She didn't see you as someone who had simply packed a suitcase of clothes and left the country overnight. To Niah you were still that same person from 7 years ago who ate whatever she put in front of. You and Seokmin were always guinea pigs for all the new recipes.

The food was still wonderful, if anything it had just gotten better.

You had a fork halfway to your mouth when you heard the door open, the sound of the bell indicating the entry of a new customer. You almost instinctively turned to look. You choked on your own saliva when your eyes met Seokmin's.

It was as if you were back in the hallway that day. Your heart simply stopped, and the world fell into suspension. For a moment, it was as if you had been transported to the past. You were almost certain that if you looked at the table you would see books open next to the cutlery; you knew that if you looked at Seokmin for another second or two his face would break into the most beautiful smile, he would wave and call your name.

But your illusion shattered into small pieces as his neutral expression contorted into a frown. With the same foot he entered he turned to leave.

“Seokmin!” you called him, getting up from your chair.

Part of you thought he was going to continue out the door, but he stopped. Half of his body was outside the restaurant, the other inside.

“Hurry up and close that door!” Niah said leaving the kitchen “You’re letting out all the heat”

Even with Niah's voice calling him, Seokmin remained standing at the door. You sat back down, but without taking your eyes off him. He didn't know what he expected of him, but he felt an indescribable relief when Niah pulled him by the sleeve of his coat and forced him to sit in front of you.

“The restaurant is packed, so you will have to share a table” she said as she turned her back.

Seokmin shook his head, clearly against sitting there, staying in the restaurant, but he still took off his coat and hung it on the chair before leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

It was clear he was working out, his shoulders had gotten broader and his arms bigger since you last saw each other. You almost laughed at the pose, remembering all the times you had seen him in a similar situation. But this wasn't the time to laugh when everything else was screaming that he was uncomfortable with the situation, that he didn't want to be there.

It didn't take a genius to know that Seokmin wanted nothing to do with you. His reaction to seeing you in the hallway the week before and the way he was looking at you in that moment were enough answers.

You felt like the walls were closing in around you and there wasn't enough air in the room.

What were you thinking when you called his name? What were you thinking when you silently watched Niah pull him inside? Why were you still sitting there?

A waiter who worked with Niah passed by your table and you called him discreetly, not wanting to attract the attention of the restaurant owner.

“Can you wrap everything to go, please?” you turned to Seokmin “You can have the table. I was already leaving”

It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

Seokmin laughed lowly, scornfully, his sideways smile making the hair on your arms stand on end. In general, Seokmin has always been the type of guy who didn’t lose his cool easily, who would always rather let things go than have any kind of confrontation. But when he really got stressed out or nervous, it took a while for him to calm down again.

You had seen that storm in his eyes very few times in the years you spent together. The last one was when he went to the airport to say goodbye to you. That day the storm was just confusion and pain, you knew you had done that to him. But he sat there in the restaurant, in front of you, in silence while the people around him chatted animatedly, completely oblivious to what was happening between the two of you.

"What it was?" you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, nothing” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture “It’s just like you to do that”

You narrowed your eyes at the same time you felt your cheeks get hot.

"Do what?"

"Runaway"

Letter #4

Seokmin,

It took me almost a year to convince myself that it was okay for me to look at social media. I convinced myself that every woman does this, that every now and then we look at our ex-boyfriend's Instagram, just to find out if his new girlfriend is ugly. I've told you this several times, but every female experience is universal.

I wish you were one of those low profile people, who post a picture every 6 months and it's a cut mango on a pretty plate. I wish you hadn't posted so many pictures. But more than anything, I wish I hadn't spent hours and hours looking at the photos. I wish I hadn't been analyzing every photo of you, I wish I hadn't thought “that's a new mole” and wondered which others had appeared since the last time we saw each other.

I had memorized every mole of yours. On your face, on your arms, on your back. On the worst days, when I missed you in a way that almost made me give up everything and go home, I kept remembering each one of them. I tried to remember the sound of your laugh, your voice, how you stroked my hair until I fell asleep when it wasn't a good day.

I keep wondering if one day this feeling will just go away.

It's been a year since I left. I went out with other guys, and I almost dated one of them, but you're always there in the back of my mind, almost comically because even against my will I can't help but compare them to you. I can't help but think that only you know how I like my coffee, how only you know that if I'm in my worst mood, there's no joke in the world that can make me laugh.

I know it's not fair to them. I gave you the chance to get to know me, I allowed you to get closer. I wanted you to come closer to me. Now I wonder if you're doing this for someone other than me.

I like to imagine that you also compare other women to me, that even now that you're dating I stay there, in the back of your mind, making fun of you.

Unfortunately, she's not ugly, but your smile was brighter when I was next to you.

yn.

To say that Seokmin had spent the rest of the week in an envious mood was an understatement. He was stressed and everyone around him soon noticed the change. He really tried not to let his personal life get in the way of his work. It was something he never struggled with. Work was work, what happened when the lights went out and he left the radio should never cross paths with each other. That week, however, it was impossible.

Meeting you at the restaurant caught him off guard. That day in the college hallway had been difficult, but he managed to just keep walking as if nothing had happened. He liked to pretend like he hadn't gone out with Chan right after and drank like there was no tomorrow, like he hadn't opened the boxes he had kept for years and cried while looking at the photos of the two of you together.

He had gone to the restaurant that day because he needed some form of comfort and didn't want to call any of his friends because he knew he would end up telling them everything that happened and would receive advice and words he would rather not hear. The restaurant was the best idea he had. Or maybe the worst possible one.

Maybe he had done it consciously, because he wanted to see you one more time, and wanted to make sure he hadn't imagined you. It wouldn't have been the first time.

In the first few months after you left, Seokmin got into the habit of visiting places he went with you, or places you liked to go alone. It was probably a form of torture, but he liked to imagine it was a way to forget and overcome the breakup. On several of those days, he believed he saw you. He realistically knew it wasn't you, he clearly remembered seeing you get on the plane and waited until it took off to leave the airport.

The worst thing that could have happened to him was you calling for him. Seokmin couldn't help but wonder if he had always reacted that way to you, if your presence was always so great that before he even saw you he knew you were nearby. That day, as soon as he opened the door, before he even saw you sitting there with your eyes wide open, he knew. He knew you were there.

The last thing he expected from you was you saying his name, as if asking him to sit with you, that Niah, knowing how the relationship had ended, would have made him sit in front of you.

Seokmin noticed your discomfort, the way your spine had become a little straighter, the way your eyes were hard and cautious at the same time. Your reaction made him angry. What right did you have to behave that way, as if you were hurt when all the decisions regarding a relationship both of you were in had been made by you?

You were the one who signed up for a master's degree abroad. It was you who never told him about your decision. It was you who kept everything secret, making him believe that the two of you were on the same page and that despite your different goals, you would be able to pursue them together.

Turns out he was wrong, those dreams were just his and didn't include him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chan asked for the thousandth time.

For the first time in a long time, Seokmin was having a hard time hiding how he really felt. That polished, carefully carved mask had fallen. It was a completely atypical day and everyone was able to notice his sudden change in mood. Even Chan, who normally did a great job of ignoring all the problems around him and focusing solely on his work, seemed to be walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s really obvious, isn’t it?” Seokmin asked in a low voice and Chan just nodded "And if I pretend it's because of the new segment, will anyone believe it?"

Again, Chan nodded. Since he had started the program, 3 years before, Seokmin would receive calls and speak directly to listeners. Although there were always interactions, those were always done through live chat and email when he received questions or stories from people who were not listening to the program when it was airing.

Seokmin wasn't nervous about the idea, he was actually excited. Chan knew this and knew that whatever the problem was, it was still the same as the day of the lecture. He didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to seem invasive, but he still wanted to make sure Seokmin was okay �� or at least, well enough to do the program.

“I think everyone is already thinking that” was a lie and even Seokmin knew it, but he was grateful.

“You may already know this, but today we will start a new segment. We'll call it the heart to heart helpline, at least until we find a better name at least” Seokmin's voice and laugh resonated through the taxi “We'll take your calls and some of you will be able to talk to me and ask your questions live, instead of by chat. Each person will have a maximum of 2 minutes and we will answer 6 calls today”

You had left the house completely willing to avoid anything related to Seokmin. Realistically, you knew you couldn't do anything about the billboards and his face at bus stops, but you could very well avoid his radio show. And for a few weeks you had managed to do just that.

That day at the restaurant had almost been a cathartic moment. Somehow, it was as if something had clicked and fallen into place. The Seokmin you left behind no longer existed. It had been a naive thought to think so. You didn't expect that he would still be exactly the same person, of course not. Seven years had passed and Seokmin, like you, was approaching his thirties. Obviously, many things had changed, but you still expected to see traces of that 22-year-old boy you had known and loved.

You didn't spend more than five minutes with him at that table. And it was much more than enough. He had accused you of running away, of continuing to do this for years. Of course, that could be his view on everything, but it was never your intention. The only problem was that you hadn't been able to tell him those things. You had been so lost and so completely helpless in front of him that you had forgotten that you knew how to speak and form sentences.

You had spent years of your life writing letters to him, letters that he would never read, but that was beside the point. You wrote letters as a way to appease the emptiness you felt in your heart. You never, not for a second, thought you were running away. You never wanted to run away, but Seokmin seemed to believe you did.

In a sudden burst of anger, you took your phone out of your bag and dialed the number Seokmin spoke on the radio. You didn't expect your call to go through. In fact, you didn't even know what you expected.

“Please wait a minute, we will connect your call” a non-robotic voice said as you paid for the taxi.

Seokmin was still chatting animatedly with a listener who didn't have a real question, but who “just wanted to say that I really liked your show and that I’m a fan.” It was impossible not to roll your eyes. If she, and everyone else, knew how much of a complete asshole he could be just because he had the opportunity, they would never want to see his face again.

Or maybe they would team up against you in favor of the immaculate Seokmin. God knew how easily a man could turn public opinion in his favor with a beautiful smile. And God was also a witness that Seokmin's smile was simply wonderful, one that took your breath away, one that made you smile along because it was contagious.

“Welcome to the heart to heart helpline” Seokmin’s voice sounded in your ear “What’s your question?”

You didn't really think that your call would get through to Seokmin, you didn't think the signal would be good enough inside the elevator, but none of that seemed to be a problem.

“Hello, can you hear me?” he asked.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You knew you were going really crazy, but you decided to throw caution out the window and be the crazy person everyone used to believe you were.

“Yes, I’m here” you could have sworn, that even over the phone, you felt Seokmin tense up “It’s a question about an old relationship, we broke up years ago, if that’s okay”

You struggled with your keys, trying to unlock the door as quickly as possible. You needed to get to your computer or tablet, whichever was closer. It was almost a physical necessity to see Seokmin's reaction to your voice, your question.

You always knew how to tell if he was truly calm or if he was masking what he was feeling. You wanted to know if you still had any other sort of effect on him. Whatever it was, it was better than angry disdain.

“Old relationships should stay in the past, don’t you think?” he finally said.

You nodded as you ran into your room. You knew you would find the tablet under your pillow — you were sure that if your mother saw it she would say that your brain would explode due to the radiation from the device. With a few taps, you opened the stream of Seokmin's program.

“I think so. But the problem is that we keep seeing each other. I don’t think it’s something either of us want, but it seems inevitable.”

You turned the sound off, you just wanted to focus on his reactions. Seokmin swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed on the microphone in front of him. To anyone, it just seemed like he was concentrating on the call, on what the person on the other end of the line had to say, but you knew very well that it was to hide his reactions.

"Your question?"

“Well, he called me selfish and said I ran away when we broke up, but that's not exactly what happened. I wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he wants to listen to me.”

Seokmin took a deep breath and seemed to think about what to say next, his eyes no longer on the microphone, but on the ceiling.

“And why does he think that about you? You probably gave him reasons, don't you think? I don’t think anyone would think that about someone without anything having happened.”

“I always dreamed of studying abroad, so when the opportunity came, I went. I…"

“Did you tell him you were going?” Seokmin clenched his fists on the desk, his fingers gripped the pen in his hand tightly until his knuckles were white. “Did you give him a chance to say something or did you just walk away?”

You were speechless, eyes focused only on Seokmin. The way his hair perfectly framed his face, his sculpted thin nose. He was still exactly like he was seven years ago, just somehow different. He was the same, but he also wasn't.

You hadn't given him the chance to say anything, you had just walked away, but because you believed it was the best thing to do. You would have stayed if he had asked, I would have aborted all of your plans for him,

“Long distance relationships don’t work” you said finally, your voice lower “especially when there’s an ocean separating people”

“I'm going to guess and say that you were together for a while because I don't think anyone would care that much about a quick relationship” his voice became more sober, completely in control of his emotions, the opposite of what you felt, like you were enclosed every second that passed “I agree with you, long-distance relationships don’t work. Different cities are already complicated, I can't imagine what it would be like to be with someone who lives in another country. You didn't give many details, but I believe he had reasons to feel that way, just as you had your reasons for leaving without warning. I think the best thing for both of you is to let it fall into oblivion. It makes no sense for either of you to dwell on these feelings. Maybe your desire to talk exists because you think you've left things open with him, but he may think that what's in the past shouldn't be remembered. Maybe you're just a bad relationship he wants to forget.”

Letter #5

Seokmin

I found out by chance that you now have your own radio show. One day it was an empty slot in the schedule and the next it was your voice. To my joy and delight, it was one of those programs that also had video streaming. I say joy and delight in a very ironic way.

But I'm not lying when I say I'm happy for you. You always said it was your dream and in a way, here we are, achieving our dreams. It would have been better if we could have lived through this together, I think. Maybe if that were the case I wouldn't have this empty feeling inside my chest.

But I discovered a long time ago that I can't keep crying over spilled milk. I left and you moved on with your life. They were conscious choices, I knew what I was doing. I knew that making this choice would have hurt both of us, but I also knew that we could overcome it. It's just taking longer than expected. I honestly thought that by this point, so many years later, we would have been able to live as if the past were just that, the past.

But it's not like that for me or for you.

I may be completely crazy, but your show is about love advice and how to deal with heartbreak. Sometimes, when I hear you talk, I'm sure you've already dealt with all your feelings, after all, you've had other girlfriends. But there are other moments, when you answer a question or when you read one of the pre-written texts when I'm sure that what you said applies directly to what we both had.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

It's been four years since I left. I already finished my master's degree and started my PhD, exactly as planned. I have a date tonight with a guy who seems genuinely nice, but here I am, writing yet another letter that will never be sent to the guy I was in love with.

What am I still doing?

Seokmin had always believed that for a relationship to truly end there must be no trace of it anywhere. When he told his listeners that they should get rid of items, it was not a lie. He was just terrible at following his own advice. The old story of do as I say, not as I do.

Finally, he decided it was time to take his own advice. With a little pain and resentment added to the mix, of course. At this point, he wondered if he could already be considered a masochist or if he still had a few boxes to tick to get the title.

Getting your address had been easier than expected. All he had to do was ask Niah, who offered the information without any resistance.

“Being thirty didn't make either of you any smarter,” she said as she leaned across the table and wrote the address on the napkin.

“Almost thirty” he felt the need to correct her, but decided he would ignore the hidden message in her words.

Seokmin never stopped going to Niah's restaurant. It was there that he had cried his sorrows over the cheapest drinks possible, he didn't have the money to pay for the good ones, while Joshua tried to console him. He had never seen Niah so stressed and angry. She hadn't said anything, but you could clearly hear the sound of her cutting the vegetables more aggressively than necessary.

Little by little she became calmer about the situation and started talking about you with the same affection as before. Seokmin always thought she had somehow kept in touch with you, or at least found a way to get your number or a way to contact you. At first, he had been angry, but somehow he believed he didn't have that right. It was only after a year that Seokmin decided to ask and the answer he received was “if I still had contact with her, I would have already screamed at her about disappearing without telling anyone”.

Asking Niah for your address was the only option he had. He refused to go to college, where you worked. He didn't know what would happen, whether you would be friendly with each other or the conversation would end in a shouting match just because. Because after years of no contact and considering the way things ended, it was pretty obvious that resentment could resurface — at least Seokmin had resentment up to his neck and knew that not releasing them all at once required almost inhuman self-control.

He looked at the building one more time before getting out of the car. It was one of those without a doorman. Seokmin knew that if he rang and asked to be let in, the probability of being sent to hell was very high. So he pulled up his cap down and covered as much of his face as he could while he balanced the boxes on his arms.

He stood there like a madman for almost twenty minutes until someone finally left the building. Seokmin felt like he was committing a crime when he slipped through the door before it closed. Even though the feeling was strange he made himself believe it was the only option he had and he really didn't have any bad intentions. He just wanted to return your things and, hopefully, arrange that if you ever met again, you’d simply pretend you don't know each other, instead of talking nonsense to each other.

Seokmin took a deep breath once before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps and a second later the door opened.

When you imagined what your Wednesday night would be like, the only option that crossed your mind was to order a pizza and watch a movie — the random option of Netflix seemed like your best friend and the only possible option because you weren't even able to choose what to watch by yourself.

Not even in your wildest daydreams could you have imagined that Seokmin would show up at your door with two boxes in his hand.

You were partially tempted to close the door on his face, but you knew that doing so would only make the whole situation worse. If Seokmin, who clearly didn't have any good feelings about you, was standing there at your door it was because he had something to say. Or more precisely to hand it over to you, considering the boxes in his arms.

Silently you stepped aside so he had enough room to enter. You wanted to slap yourself for the complete war zone that your living room was in. You were still unpacking the moving boxes, not that you had taken much with you. It was too expensive to send things from one country to another, especially furniture. You had only focused on your clothes and books and a few things you wanted to keep, and that alone was more than you were willing to spend. In addition to the boxes, you had all the things you still had to buy, but you still didn't have the mind to do it.

You had so much going through your head that cleaning the apartment was just another task you wanted to avoid. But it was one that could be left for later. In the few minutes that Seokmin spent there, you wished you had tidied it up, that he hadn't seen how that room represented your life at that moment: a complete mess.

"What are you doing here?" you finally asked when you managed to get your vocal cords to work properly.

Seokmin didn't seem to care about the mess but paid attention to everything else around him.

He placed the boxes on the counter and took off his cap, pressing the brims with his fingertips looking for what to say next. He had rehearsed an almost poetic speech in the car, something about being adults and how your relationship had ended a long time ago, so neither of you should have any regrets left. But the moment you opened the door and looked at him it was as if all the words had simply evaporated from his mind, as if he had never learned to speak in the first place.

It had always been that way with you. Sometimes when he looked at you, even when you were still together, he got lost. He was like a man adrift who had finally found solid land. It was as if he heard a click and the world started to move once again.

One of his favorite things, when you were dating and living together, was being able to come home after an exhausting day and see you sitting on the sofa in the living room, your computer on your lap, while you studied, occasionally shouting profanities at the computer. On those days, Seokmin would simply push the computer away and lay his head on your lap.

“Just five minutes” he used to say with his eyes closed.

You’d laugh, fingers immediately running through his hair, as if it was the most natural movement in the world.

“Who do you want me to insult today? You know my vocabulary is very colorful.”

How many times had he slept in that position, without meaning to, and you had to drag him to bed because “it's comfortable for you, but my legs are numb and you have to take a shower, you won't sleep dirty next to me, sir”.

It was impossible not to wonder where it all went wrong.

“I came to return your things” he pointed at the boxes.

You suppressed the urge to bend down and rummage through the boxes. You wanted to know what he had kept, what he considered important enough to keep for so many years. You knew he no longer lived in the apartment you shared. When you were looking for apartments you saw that that one was up for rent. It was necessary to restrain yourself from choosing it. It wasn't a good apartment, at least not at the time — the photos on the website said the property had undergone renovations two years earlier and had no tenants since. It wasn't big, it barely fit one person, but it was what your extremely limited budget could afford at the time. Somehow you and Seokmin turned that small space into a home full of life. Of love.

In the places where you lived, you bought all kinds of trinkets to fill the space, furniture you didn't need and never used, hoping to imitate, for even a second, the feeling you had in that little 35 square meter apartment.

You never quite managed to do that.

“Thank you” you said sincerely “I thought all my things had gone in the trash”

You laughed and Seokmin squeezed the back of his head and pointed at the boxes.

“I sold what I could, I didn't want to put it in storage because I really thought we would never see each other again. The money is in an envelope”

“Why did you keep all this?” the words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself “You should have thrown it away or, since you sold it, you should have spent the money”

Seokmin had asked himself that question several times before, sober or not, and he never had an answer. After a while, he simply stopped questioning and accepted it as something he had to do, to have some kind of sanity. It didn’t. Knowing that those boxes were inside his wardrobe, having to go through them the two times he moved, only brought back memories that he would like to forget.

Ever since you had seen each other again for the first time, memories that Seokmin had struggled to bury came to the surface as if they had just happened. He started to dream about you, dreams that range from memories to things that never actually happened, he started to wonder if it would be okay to talk with someone. His brain always screamed NO, so he was stuck just dreaming.

“I don’t have a good enough reason. It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

The last time Seokmin felt so embarrassed around you was right when you met and even then it only lasted a few minutes. The 18 year old Seokmin was much braver than the 29 year old man in front of him.

That boy, without any guilt or remorse, would have asked every question that could cross his mind. You’d say “your mind is beautiful, it even echoes sometimes”. Seokmin wanted to still have some of that boy's strength. Maybe that was the only way to know what he wanted. He wouldn't ask and he knew you wouldn't offer the information to him without being pressured.

“I think in the end, we both got what we wanted.”

You realized you said the wrong thing when you looked at Seokmin’s hands. A second before he was clutching his cap until his knuckles turned white, the next his long fingers were still. You didn't want to see the expression on his face. You knew what you’d find. You messed up, but couldn’t take back what you said.

“You got what you wanted” Seokmin corrected you, his voice firm, his tone hard.

“You always wanted to have a radio show”

“No, I wanted you. I could adapt to everything else if it meant I would have you.”

You shook your head. You knew it wasn't true. Hell, even Seokmin knew it wasn’t true. The first time you talked, Seokmin mentioned how much he wanted to be a radio host and have his own show, of any kind. I don't have a preference, I know I can give anything my own colors. You felt envious of his certainty, of the way he knew he could do it.

“The show has always been your dream” you tried again, despite knowing it was in vain to argue with him.

“My dream was to have a life by your side. You never, not once, told me that you signed up to study abroad, you never even mentioned it. When it was time to go you just got on a plane and disappeared. You never even gave me the chance to follow you. I could have been a journalist anywhere in the world”

Seokmin hated the direction of that conversation, hated being so exposed in front of you after so many years. In the past, it wasn't a problem. Before he wanted to be exposed in front of you, he wanted to share everything he was, every aspect of himself with you. No more. The problem was that he couldn't just stop. A gate was opened and there was no way to close it.

“So, what? Would we both be living based on our dreams? Because this is a dream, and you know it very well.”

You clung to the top rail of the chair, your head lolling forward in an almost futile attempt to stop him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You knew you couldn't hold them.

You weren't the type of person who cried often, you did what you could to avoid it, but when the tears came it was impossible to simply stop them from falling.

“Yeah, maybe I was really dreaming, because I believed that you loved me in the same proportion, but it’s quite obvious that you didn’t”

Seven years of pent-up frustration couldn't just disappear, he should have known. He should have imagined that going there would be a problem, that being in the same space as you without any kind of interference was a mistake. But he was still there and there was no way to escape. It was better to end everything quickly than to keep those feelings for another seven years in the hopes of one day being able to say something.

Seokmin watched as you went to one of the boxes in the corner of the room and opened it forcefully, tearing the cardboard, and causing some of the contents to slide across the floor. He felt his body freeze as a roll of film stopped at his feet.

“So explain to me, why do I buy a roll of film every time I pass by a store?” you put both hands inside the box and took out several rolls of film, of different brands and models. “Explain to me, why have I followed your career all this time and never missed a damn show in the last 3 years? Why would I wake up in the middle of the night to watch the broadcast and then listen to the show again while going to work because I just wanted to hear your voice?”

You walked to another box, but you opened this one a little more carefully as if wanting to protect the contents.

“Why did I spend 7 years writing letters that would never be read to a guy I never loved?”

You threw several envelopes at Seokmin’s chest. Your face and body shook out of anger or another feeling he couldn't quite tell.

Seokmin bent down to pick up one of the envelopes from the floor. His name was written in your careful handwriting. He didn't need to look at all the other ones to know that they were also addressed to him. He didn't know how many letters were scattered on the floor, or if there were any left in the box. The only thing he was sure of was that he had no idea how to proceed.

“If that doesn’t say I loved you, if that doesn’t say I still love you, I don’t know what the fuck does.”

Seokmin saw the first tear run down your face and fell silent. He knew he should turn his back, he knew he should walk away, just like you did seven years before. Instead, he took four steps in your direction, his eyes never left your heaving chest and the tears that ran freely over your cheeks.

At that moment he knew that he only had two options: he could turn around and leave, he gave you back your things that alone made his plan a success; or he could kiss you like he had been wanting to since the moment he saw you again.

To hell with his plan.

Seokmin held your face in his hands and pulled you to him, crashing his lips on yours. It was an all too new feeling but also familiar, almost like coming to a remodeled home. It was him and it was you, if only it was just that simple.

You sighed into him, your arms wrapping around his slim waist while your hand balled a fist full of his shirt. There were so many moments where you wished you could be right in that spot, again in his arms. Dreams and daydreams, wishful thinking, whatever you could call it. Thoughts of Seokmin had always been a constant in your mind. It was impossible not to compare other people you went out with to him.

Your longest relationship had been one of almost a full year. Although the beginning had been good and easy, with you somehow managing to avoid any and all Seokmin related dreams and thoughts, it turned sour the second he crossed your mind.

“Seokmin, I…”

He shook his head and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes so intense that it was difficult to keep looking at him.

“Let’s not overthink it, okay?” was all he said.

You held his face for a couple, searching for something in his features, anything at all, that could indicate that the moment wasn’t for that. But all you saw in him was the same emotions you felt, the same need and desire.

You pulled Seokmin to you again, this time hungrier, your chest pressed to his. Your mind was loud telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t be doing that, why having him so close to you was truly the most dangerous situation you could possibly put yourself in. But all of those voices, all of those words and thoughts were silenced the moment he kissed you again.

His lips were hungry, demanding all of you. And it was so easy to just give in to him, to his hands roaming on your body, down your back until he reached your ass. He gave it a light squeeze and ran his hand back up again, this time under your shirt. You moaned softly at the contact of his skin on yours, as he kissed your neck, bitting on the exact same spot he found years before.

He smiled over your skin.

“At least this hasn’t changed”

It was all too much but not nearly enough. Just having him that close to you was dizzying enough but him touching you and enjoying the fact that you were just as weak for him at twenty nine made you never want to let go of him again.

“Where’s your room?”

You took Seokmin by the hand, guiding him through the narrow corridor.

Your room was barely a room to begin with. You had no furniture except for the mattress lying on the floor, your clothes were either on the suitcase or on the chair on the side.

“This is unlike you” Seokmin said, his chest pressed to your back while he nibbled on the skin of your neck.

“I… hm… I” you sturred a little when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot, making him chuckle “I’m waiting on delivery”

Seokmin turned you around in his arms while lightly pushing you down on the mattress. His eyes never left yours as he ran his hand under your shirt, moving the fabric up until your chest was exposed.

It had been so long since you had been with anyone, it was almost like a reflex to want to pull your shirt back down. Since him, it had been hard to just let yourself be exposed to someone like that. You had become awfully aware of your body and things you never cared for or paid attention to before suddenly became worries. You didn't like that insecure version of yourself but when Seokmin cupped your breast in his hand his touch was almost solemn.

It was probably the worst timing in the world when you felt tears burn on the back of your eyes. You pulled his face to yours again, trying to hide your tears from him once again.

Suddenly, his touch was tender when he pushed a few strands of hair away from your face, his fingers careful.

Seokmin moved down on your body. When you saw his fingers on the waistband of shorts you lifted your hips off of the mattress to help him move the fabric down quicker.

He kissed your hips and inner thigh. You moaned in anticipation, your hand taking a fist full of his soft hair. When his lips finally found your clit it was like fireworks erupted behind your closed eyelids.

Seokmin was impossibly hard in his pants, embarrassingly so like he was a teenager having his first time.

He never thought that he would have you in his arms again and yet there you were in front of him, no reservations. Just for him. And for a moment it was like his brain was in short circuit, the small electric waves running all over his body, down to his toes.

He licked a path from your cunt to your clit. He went down on you almost in desperation, his nose brushing on your clit every now and then.

"Seokmin..." his name was barely a whisper in your lips, but it was also a chant.

Your orgasm hits you quickly, leaving you short of air and with shaky legs. You were spiraling in the most enticing way possible. It didn't stop Seokmin though as he kept sucking you frantically.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him up and to you again.

I love you, the words almost fell out of your lips. It would have been so easy to just say them, to be open about your feelings just this once.

Deep down you knew that that moment would be a one time kind of thing. It was just the kind of moment people sometimes needed to just completely let go of everything. Or in this case, nothing. It was to let go of seven years of complete nothingness and silence.

You opened the button of his jeans and pushed it down, his boxers following along. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him a couple of times. Realization suddenly came over you. You never expected Seokmin to show up to your place, much less that it would lead to that moment, and there wasn't anyone else in your life, so you weren't ready for it.

"I don't have a condom" you said breathlessly.

Seokmin looked lost for a second, his brain going to his wallet, questioning whether or not he had one in him.

"I can pull out," he said "if that's okay"

All you did was nod and Seokmin aligned himself with your hole. He pushed in slowly, savoring each moment when your pussy pulled him in until there was no space between the two of you.

Seokmin kissed you again to give himself time to adjust to you squeezing him. You held his face close to yours, in your eyes a mix of emotions he didn't want to understand. Not in that moment at least.

"I don't want anyone else," you said looking into his eyes, your thumb running over his bottom lip "No one else can make me feel the way you do"

To hell with care and self-preservation. You let go of those the moment you opened the door for him, the moment you let him into your home, the moment you didn't push him away when he kissed you.

Seokmin fucks you slowly, his pace torturous as you beg and beg for more. He intertwined his fingers with yours and held one of your hands above your head while the other one held your hips in place.

"Seokmin... harder"

And it's like a switch has gone off inside his brain. His once slow pace becomes shallow. The sound of your breaths and his skin slapping against yours were the only ones heard, echoing through the empty room.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, catching you so off guard you scream because it's too much.

You pushed Seokmin away and watched in ecstasy as he wrapped his hand around his cock, his hand working fast as your name left his lips when his release fell on the sheet by your side.

Seokmin dropped his body over yours again, his forehead on your shoulder. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over his hair.

"I love you" you allowed yourself to say, even if it meant nothing to him.

Letter #6

Seokmin,

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm coming home. Or the closest thing I still have to a home. Needless to say, my mother is happy with the news. She's been tormenting me for years, asking me to come back, but since I set foot here I decided I wasn't going back.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't go back.

Every time I thought about going back, the first thing that came into my head was the last image I had of you. Your teary eyes wishing me a safe flight, saying I love you and hope you accomplish everything you want. I regretted it the moment I gave my things away and handed my passport into the hand of the airline girl. I should have come back, I should have given up, but I couldn't. That old story of putting myself first and second, you know how it goes. In this case, my entire top 10 was just different versions of me.

I think I actually felt scared because as time went by, little by little without me realizing it right away, you became a very big part of my life. A part that could change everything. I felt like I depended on you too much. It wasn't fair to you or me.

We were only 22, Seokmin. When we were so young, we thought that life was conquered and today I know that is not the case. Far from it. At 22 I had a degree and worked part-time at a cafe to pay the bills, just like you.

You might think I'm selfish, I'm sure you do based on the things you say on your show. I was selfish and on some level, I don't regret it. I did what I always planned to do, what I always wanted to do. And now I'm coming home.

Part of me wants to run and find you, explain why I made the decisions I did, why I never told you. But I know you won't want to listen to me. I wouldn't want to listen to me either. Why would I listen to someone who left just like that? It really wouldn't make sense.

But another part, this one a little more rational, says that I shouldn't throw salt into the wound after so many years have gone by. I have the scar here, hidden enough for no one to see, but prominent enough for me to remember what I did every single day.

I think that's what I'm going to do. I think that's what I have to do. It wouldn't be fair to just show up in front of you and say “hi, I'm back” after seven years.

You have become a big “what if” for me. What if I had stayed? Would we have stayed together or would our relationship have ended years ago? What if I had told you what I was doing while I was doing it? Would you have asked me to stay? What if I had given the possibility of a long-distance relationship? Would we have worked out or would you start to resent me for leaving and end up hurting each other anyway?

The most absurd thing is that I still like you, I'm still in love with you. I've always heard that distance makes love end or something like that. I haven't seen you in seven years, I don't know what's going on in your life — you're really good at hiding everything being a celebrity now — so it doesn't make any sense that my feelings haven't changed even after all this time. This guy I see online might not be the Seokmin I fell in love with, just like I'm not the same person you remember.

Every time I hear your voice I still feel butterflies in my stomach. I sleep and dream about you. When I wake up I think about you and I wonder if you think about me too. It is not normal. It's not healthy. Life went on and I think it is our obligation to move forward together. We are not a museum to only feed on the past.

Let's continue as we are now, what do you think? We will once again be in the same country, in the same city, but I think it's best for both of us to pretend that nothing will change. It's a huge city, what are the chances of us meeting?

Before you even opened your eyes, you already knew what you would find. Or who you wouldn't find. You knew the space next to you on the mattress would be empty. You had noticed the exact moment Seokmin had gotten up, but you forced yourself to believe that he had just gone to the bathroom. You had kept your eyes closed and had somehow gone back to sleep.

You had been naive to think that the night had changed something, that the way everything seemed like it would be fine was an indication that things had finally gotten back on track. If any, the train simply ended up derailing.

When Seokmin kissed you it was magical, no matter how cliché and teenage it may sound. It was as if the world had fallen into place again, as if you had finally returned home after being away for so long. You couldn't help but wonder if that was why you'd taken the job, in the foolish, unconscious hope that there might be a chance, however slight, of being with him again.

You forced yourself to sit up and pulled the sheet up to cover your naked body. The shirt and shorts you wore the night before were next to you on the floor, but you refused to wear those clothes, opting to rummage through the boxes in the corner of the room looking for clean ones.

You didn't want to go to the living room, didn't want to be mocked by the two boxes that Seokmin had left on the counter, but you couldn't help it. It was as if your feet had a life of their own. When you realized it, you were already sitting on the living room floor with the two boxes in front of you.

You momentarily decided to ignore the smaller black box and pulled the large one closer. The first thing you saw was the envelope Seokmin mentioned the night before. Money, especially the one in the envelope, wasn't something you were going to worry about. You didn't care about it, you didn't lie when you told him that he should have spent it. That money would remain untouched.

There were also a few books you read and made annotations on, two stuffed animals, and all the picture frames you had left behind.

One of the things you regretted the most was not taking with you when you left were photos of you and Seokmin. You had only taken one, which was folded inside your wallet. It was already so old and worn out that it had almost turned to dust, but you would never get it out. It was you and Seokmin at Niah's old restaurant, he was smiling at the camera while you looked at him. It was your favorite picture.

At the bottom of the box was the camera you had given Seokmin as a birthday present a few months before you left. You had saved whatever money you could for months to buy him the camera he wanted, one that he always talked about and whenever you passed by a store you stood outside looking at it, almost as if it would magically appear in his hands.

You understood his reasons for leaving the camera there — or, at least, the reasons you could imagine—but you wished he had kept using it. Not because it was a gift from you, but because it was something he wanted. His smile was so big when you gave it to him, the tip of his nose slightly pointed down because of it.

Carefully you put everything back inside and put it aside.

The smaller box, for some reason, was scary. It was light and black, and you could hear its contents moving as you held it in your hands. You took one last deep breath and removed the lid.

Inside were photos you had never seen before. Photos of you alone, Seokmin wasn't in any of them. In none of them were you posing or smiling directly at the camera.

Most of them had been taken from a distance, without you noticing. In some you were inside the cafe where you worked, smiling at customers and serving tables, in others you were simply walking down the street, looking through window shops and pointing at something. Seokmin had taken countless photos of you without you even realizing it.

It was strange to see yourself through his eyes, even if it was a version of you that no longer existed. A much younger and more optimistic version. Did I smile that much? you couldn't help but ask. You never saw yourself as particularly optimistic or constantly smiling. You were happy, that's undeniable, but you didn't know that's how people saw you.

There were so many photos, from completely different moments, both from the beginning of your relationship with Seokmin, and from all the phases you went through together.

Behind the pictures were the post-its that you left around the apartment, reminding Seokmin of somewhere you had together or simply saying that you loved him. So many had a simple “I love you” written on them, others said “have a good day today!”.

You had no idea he had kept them. You always thought that once read, they were discarded, but there they were, intact as if you had just written them.

The very first one you had ever written, when you had just started dating, was also there. At the time, unlike Seokmin who never had a hard time expressing how he felt, it was almost impossible for you to be openly honest. So you wrote it on a post-it and stuck it inside one of his notebooks. He had shown up at the dorm a few hours after you left the library.

“Say it again, but this time looking at me”

You frowned, pretending you didn't understand.

“Your nose is beautiful”

You laughed when Seokmin wrapped his arms around you, squeezing a little, trapping your arms close to your body. His face was very close to yours.

“What you wrote in the note” he said softly, his cheek pressed against yours “Say it again, please”

The truth was that you had loved Seokmin, in a way you didn't believe was possible and maybe that was why you spent the last seven years writing letters to him.

Seokmin never left your mind, not truly. There was always a desire, even if veiled, to return home, to find out how he was, to just say “I know I messed up, I’m sorry”.

It was that desire that made your entire body go cold as you took one last item out of the box. A smaller box that fit in the palm of your hand. You knew what it was before you even opened it and opening it was the worst choice at that moment. Your heart, which was already broken, somehow managed to break even more, into a billion, shiny, new pieces.

Seokmin would have proposed if you hadn't left.

When the first sob echoed through the living room, you didn't try to hold it back, you just accepted the feeling of being absolutely lost and heartbroken.

The weather outside the building seemed to mimic the way you had felt in the last few weeks, torrential rain that had no end in sight. You watched the news hoping for an improvement, hoping that the rain would stop for at least a few hours, but it seemed like a distant dream.

All your students were already gone and there was nothing left for you to do. The handed in assignments were graded and the tests were ready to be applied the following week. You had never hated yourself so much for simply doing your job. You wanted to be, at least for that day, like other teachers who left corrections until the last possible second and left students desperate for their grades.

The hallway was in complete silence, a clear sign that everyone had left already. And you had already waited hours for the rain to stop, until the sky was completely dark, and if anything the rain had only gotten worse.

You sighed and picked up your bag from the chair. You wouldn't risk taking any books, papers, or documents home, the possibility of everything getting ruined was too big. Besides, you needed a rest, at that point it was well deserved.

Ever since you had opened the boxes Seokmin left behind, you had immersed yourself in work in every way possible. You had accepted all of the dean's requests and even offered to teach extra classes whenever there was a missing professor.

And even so, even though you had more work than you wanted, you still found time to look at all of his social media. You still listened to all his programs, even listened to the old ones before going to sleep.

It was almost like a form of elaborate torture done solely and exclusively with you in mind. And worst of all, it was self-inflicted. It was as if your brain liked it, begged for it.

The box with the engagement ring was next to your pseudo bed. It was the last thing you saw before going to sleep and the first thing you saw when you woke up. Instead of spending hours on your phone, you sat there, staring at the small box.

You hadn't dared to open it again. You had never felt so lost as you did that day, looking at that ring.

You wouldn't be a hypocrite to say that you had never imagined your life if you had married Seokmin, but before it was nothing more than a daydream. The ring made that dream an attainable reality. It had been in your hands and you just walked away.

A curse left your lips when you noticed that the umbrella you had used that morning was missing from the umbrella holder next to the door.

“Great, that’s exactly what I needed” you muttered, slamming the door shut behind you.

You were tired, exhausted to tell the truth. All you wanted was to get home, take a shower, and watch some relationship reality show, to escape the tragedy that was your own love life.

You closed your eyes and sighed as you reached the entrance. The next bus stop or subway station was at least a 15 minute walk away. That was a problem that existed when you went to school there, everything was far away. One would think that they would do something to improve that, but one would be wrong.

You thought about taking shelter in the nearest coffee shop, but you knew it was almost closing time. You wouldn't be the person who forces employees to stay late, not when you had worked at that exact coffee shop years ago.

Even with your heavy coat covering most of your body, the rain was cold on your back and it was hard to see anything ahead, even if it was just a few steps away. Even the sound of cars was muffled by the rain.

“yn?” a car was on your left, and it was moving at the same speed as you. The face of whoever was behind the wheel was blurred by the rain, but you would have recognized that voice anywhere in the world.

“Let me give you a ride”

You shook your head. The last thing you should do was get in the car with him. It was too dangerous, you were sure that if you looked at him for more than a second you’d start crying. Just by hearing his voice your eyes were burning and a lump was forming in your throat.

“It’s fine, the bus stop is right there”

“There was an accident back there, the bus won’t be here anytime soon”

You grumbled. Of course, there was an accident, of course, there wouldn't be a bus and with your luck, the subway would probably be closed too.

"If your car went through the accident, a taxi will too”

You quickened your pace, not because of the rain, but because you wanted to get away from him. You needed to get away from him.

“Jesus, yn, just get in the car. You’re going to get sick”

You pretended you didn't hear what he said and kept walking, face down – trying to escape both the rain and him. The first tear fell from your eyes. For the first time in days, you were grateful for the rain, because you could pretend it was just water and not a visual representation of your broken heart on your cheeks.

Seokmin stopped the car right there, in the middle of the street. He didn't care if someone was standing behind him honking like crazy — something that was bound to happen.

When he left your apartment that day he felt like he was 22 again, but this time he was the one leaving.

Hearing that you loved him was everything he had wanted, but the timing was strangely right and wrong, both at the same time.

Both of you screamed, shouted, and said what you wanted to say — or at least part of what you wanted to say. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, at the same time a new one was placed on it.

After you fell asleep in his arms, the only thing Seokmin could think about were the letters scattered across the living room floor. There were so many. He couldn't believe you had spent all those years writing letters to him.

He needed to read them all. He would have done it in the living room, but he didn't know what awaited him, so he collected them all from the floor and a few more that had been left in the box and left.

He read the first one in the car, he couldn't wait until he got home.

Seokmin cried right there, the same way he cried when you left. Inconsolable. His heart broke and healed in equal measure with every word of yours he read.

Seokmin always believed that you left like that, without a single word, because you didn't like him that much, because you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Not that he thought the entire relationship had been a lie, but he thought that somehow the love had ended. It happened to everyone, the probability of it happening to him was also high.

The truth could not be different. There wasn't a letter in which you didn't say you loved him, not always in those words, but he knew you well enough to know that was what you said.

After reading all the letters, Seokmin called Joshua. He cried on the phone with his friend and then once again when he showed up at his place with bad beer and takeout food. “Since we’re going to talk about our college days, I think we should do the same thing we did back then” was all he said.

Seokmin was on his way to you when he saw you walking without an umbrella. He wanted to talk to you, to know if even after so long you still wanted to try with him one more time. It was better to try than to always wonder what could have been.

“I read your letters!” he shouted louder than the rain.

His words were enough to make you stop walking, but you still didn't turn to face him. It was too hard to breathe. Your chest rose and fell irregularly each time you tried to pull the air in.

You knew Seokmin had taken the letters. Part of you knew he would read them, but the last thing you expected was for him to want to talk about them.

“I know” you said when he approached “I saw they were gone, and you were the only person who came by”

“Do you know why I accepted to host a love advice show? Besides it being something I've always wanted, of course” he didn't give you time to answer “Because a part of me wanted you to listen, to know that I was okay, even if it was a lie. I thought that if I talked about it on a show that had used the nickname you gave me, you’d regret it. I thought that I should make you regret it because it was the only way I could still think about you without looking like a fool after so long. I thought you didn’t care, that you had left because you didn’t like me anymore, so making you regret your decision was the only option I had”

You shook your head. It wasn't true, not by a long shot.

“I'm sorry” you said softly “I should have told you what I was doing, that I had applied for the and got in. I thought it was my only option. It was so stupid. I was so stupid”

Seokmin laughed a little, fingers running under your eyes. A second later he pressed his lips over yours.

“I know, I read your letters”

Seokmin,

It's been a good few years since I wrote you a letter. After a while, I didn't think I needed it anymore because I started saying everything I wanted, everything I felt, looking at you. Of course, this new arrangement has its demerits, as the paper and pen don't look at me like a lost puppy. But paper and pen don't kiss me either, so it has its bonus.

I thought when I came home four years ago, I would never see you again. I thought you would just be the guy who has a radio show that I would listen to every now and then. I didn't expect to see you my first week back and again and, well, again.

As you probably know, I've never been a big fan of rainy days. I always preferred sunny days because those were the days I woke up ready to face the world. I felt better overall. But also because they reminded me of you. You know, when the sun appears after gray days? For me, you were always like that. Grand and brilliant.

But after that day, I started to like rainy days too because they started to be full of the two of us. Rain was no longer synonymous of an unproductive day, but rather of the memory of our fresh start.

You know this, we've talked about it a few times, but I spent a few months waiting for it to sink in. Sort of expecting that one day I would wake up and it would all be a dream. It was hard for both of us, I know. It was seven years of hurt and resentment and we had to navigate this uncertain sea without a map. Nobody teaches you how to do this, believe me, I looked. I found countless books on how to start dating, how to save a relationship, and how to get over a relationship. The problem is that none of them teach you how to rekindle a relationship after seven years apart, but during those seven years one of the parties wrote letters and the other had a program just to mourn the sorrows of the relationship.

I've read several, so you can trust what I say on this.

It really wasn't easy, but I think we came out better, stronger, in some way.

I love you and I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives. Our forever begins today, in a little while. So stop crying, put ice on your eyes to help the swelling go down, and go to the aisle because I miss you already.

I love you.

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