#one would think I would've grabbed one of the other unfinished pairs to work on next

[damnprecious]

I finished knitting a pair of socks today

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 27

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 4,779

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: GOODNIGHT AND GOOD MOURNING

Bucky counts two rings of the doorbell and six knocks. Second ring in case the first wasn't heard, six heavy knocks in case the doorbell might be broken, and yet despite this extra work, he never actually had any real expectations for the door to open on its own. Unfortunately, he gave up hope on that a few weeks ago.

Setting some bags down by his feet and cursing when they immediately tip over, he uses his new free hand to fish through his pocket, succeeding in not only finding his keys, but the correct one to unlock this blasted barrier before him.

Per usual, he's greeted with an eerily dark hallway that seems fitting for the start of a horror movie. Shuffling through the door with another curse as the same pesky bags get caught on the handle, he kicks it shut behind himself then calls out into the darkness as if it would reply, "Hey...It's me!"

Unfazed by the greeting of silence, he leaves his boots and coat there before making a b-line for the kitchen, pleased to leave all his grocery bags there to officially free himself of their incontinent weight. He goes to the fridge first, not to put anything away, but rather to grimace at the barren sight inside. Some condiments, a little bit of milk, veggies that look past their expiration date, and a half rack of beer…Good thing he went shopping.

Walking around the bar and into the living room, Bucky almost makes the mistake of going further which would've taken him right past the couch and, more importantly, the motionless lump lying there. When he does spot it in the corner of his eyes, he sighs - for some reason he still has a reason to sigh despite this having become a despairing routine as of lately.

Slowly, he steps over the few empty beer bottles on the floor and squats next to the couch where his frown only grows deeper as he pokes the lump, "It's past noon...You should get up and eat something - You need to get up and eat something."

He only gets a groan in response, but at least that's better than continued silence.

"I bought groceries. I can make something if you want?" Nothing, "...Or I can even order some take-out. Anything particular in mind?"

"...I don't want anything..."

Bucky inhales, although he tries not to make it sound so sharp. Standing upright and grabbing the empty bottles, he heads back into the kitchen, “...You’ll make yourself sick living off of beer alone, you know?”

"For your information, I had ramen yesterday."

"I'm proud of you," He's truly sincere, not that you'd believe that, "That means today, we can have something other than beer or ramen. Now, what do you feel like? I was thinking we could just do a simple, early dinner. I got some frozen pizza. Maybe we can have that and do a movie night or somethin' - just enjoy an easy going, lazy day. What do you say? I wouldn't mind another marathon of Lord of the Rings. You still keep the extended cuts under the TV stand, yeah?”

He’s rambling and normally, you find it enduring, however today - and for the last few weeks - his voice has been a distant echo in your head; nothing but a dull mumble against the terrible thoughts that overtake your care and concern. It makes you feel shitty in every way possible. Bucky visits every day without fail, armed with unlimited patience and kindness that he somehow manages to smother you in without actually smothering you (it’s been painfully obvious that he’s desperately trying to give you some space while still being present).

"Oh yeah, and I also got your favorite. They had it next to check-out. 'thought you'd like some," Even when a candy bar is waved in front of your face, your eyes barely shift to it before disappearing from sight when you curl further into your blanket sanctuary.

"...No thank you.”

Although his smile does wobble a bit into a frown, Bucky forces himself not to break; not here, not in front of you. He’d be an absolute hypocrite to complain, after all, it was him who spent several years moping which (unintentionally) dragged you into quite a lot of trouble. You pulled him from that hole, giving him the support he needed to move on from his past as hard as that had been. Now it’s his turn to return the favor.

Still - and he’s afraid he might be thinking selfishly with this, but there are days where he just wants to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and force you to go outside for once because the worry is eating away at him right now. It’s been weeks since the Snap - Well, five years for everyone else, but only a few measly weeks since the two of you had been thrown into this whirlwind of events that have left you both shaken.

It’s strange to think you can close your eyes and find out five years have passed. It’s even stranger to be thrown into a war for the universe immediately after, receiving no chance to process everything going on until you’re left with nothing. Natasha, Tony, Steve…The people who you cared for are gone and you never got to say goodbye - not in the way you wanted.

You were so damn happy, too. At long last, you had fixed your life, surrounded by people who were close to Hollie or at least understood that you were once her. No more pretending nor biting your tongue; you were free to just be you, both as Hollie and (Y/n). To think, you were actually excited for your future for the first time in, well, years - decades, even…then it all came tumbling down within mere minutes…Now you’re left with the shattered remains yet again and can’t help but ask yourself: how many more times? When will you have suffered enough?

"...(Y/n)...” Bucky breathes your name and you notice the crack behind his voice as he kneels down beside you, gently moving a strand of hair away from your face, “I’m not asking for you to be okay or to move on. I’m just asking that you take care of yourself a little better. You’re not eating, you haven’t left the apartment in days - I don’t even think you’re really sleeping either. I -...I’m getting really worried about you, darling…”

He has a point. You know he has a point because this isn’t the first time you’ve been here. If anything, you should be an expert on grief and recovery, having learned from experience that wallowing doesn’t bring anyone back…so why do you still feel like utter shit then? You should be a productive member of society, counting your blessings and moving on because you’re lucky enough to even be here. So many people have it worse than you. Bucky, for example. He lost Steve, too. He tries to brush it off, but you see the pain in his eyes. Steve didn’t die or anything. He just…left. He left both of you willingly despite the suffering you’ve already been cursed with…He abandoned you both with it and while you want to be happy for him and happy that he got to be with Peggy in the end as they both deserved…you can’t help feeling pissed…betrayed even…

Bucky has a right to be mad, too. He should have his own time to grieve for himself instead of being stuck in this dark apartment babying you. Even if he has already moved on (not that you’d believe it), that would be all the more reason for him to go live his life. Why does he keep fussing over you when he should be taking care of himself?

“I’m getting really worried about you, darling…”

…You wish you could make Bucky happy. You want him to be happy, having moved on from all those awful things HYDRA had done to the quiet, simple life he desires, yet selfishly at the same time, you don’t actually want to let him go. You’re stuck in this awful limbo where you want to throw in the towel and give up on everything you’ve worked so hard on throughout the years, after all, it sure didn’t take long to crumble around you, but at the same time, you’re so tired of feeling alone…You don’t want to go back to that life even if it means desperately grasping at strings and dragging poor Bucky down with you…

At long last you peek out from behind your blanket, lazily gazing up at the man in question. There was once a time when you would shamelessly swoon at the thought of having his affection and admittedly, you’re heart still flutters at hearing his concern for you, however after the Snap, you can’t help feeling numb inside as if your heart is covered in frozen ice that even Bucky can’t chip away…at least, that's what you had begun to believe until finally getting a good look at him.

Your heart speeds up so suddenly it makes a wave of nausea run over your entire body, making you feel a bit more awake than you had been before. For once you find energy for something and that's to wiggle your arm out from under the blankets, reaching until your fingers manage to touch the top of his head.

"...You cut your hair," You observe so stupidly, avoiding his eyes as you focus only on his new haircut which is quite the change. Yesterday he had his hair pulled back into a bun while complaining of the heat, however today, his long locks are gone, leaving a rather short yet soft fluff behind.

"Yeah...'got it done this morning," He slightly bows his head down towards you more, burning through all his willpower not to fully lean into your touch. He’s as cautious with his movements as he is in watching your expression and asking the question, “Do you like it…?”

You finally allow yourself to look at his face, your fingers just barely running along his cheek on their way to falling limb against the couch again. For a brief second anyone could miss, your lip quivers, but you do good to press it back the same way you blink away any tears threatening to make an appearance. Maybe Bucky notices, maybe he doesn’t.

"...It’s a good look on you,” You inhale, eyes drifting over his facial features to catch every detail because at this point you’ve abandoned all caution. You’ll accept in this moment that you’re being selfish and you’ll also decide not to care, “...You clean up nicely, Barnes. Who would’ve guessed?”

Bucky beams - quite literally, he beams with a boyish grin and glitter to his eyes after hearing you say something more akin to your usual self. Oh, how he’s missed your teasing. Sure, your voice is cracked and barely more than a whisper, but it’s progress he won’t object to. He also doesn’t object to you slowly sitting up while running a hand through your own messy air and sighing at your headache.

“So, um…A movie marathon, you said?”

“Unless you have anything else in mind?”

You press your lips, never letting the hand fall from your head. There’s a voice inside who tries to argue, reminding you that it’ll only end in more heartbreak if you try yet again to pick up the pieces of Hollie’s life, but God, it’s so damn difficult with Bucky’s adorable, hopeful smile. He’s attached to you even without understanding the truth. He cares for (Y/n), he worries about you…That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? You wanted that - wanted to know that he could love you as you, not as just Hollie, however there’s a side of you that doesn’t feel quite right about it for some reason…some reason you’ll ignore.

“...No. A movie night sounds fun…” 

Baby steps - that’s what it took for you to start functioning again after Bucky’s supposed death seventy eight years ago; lots and lots of baby steps. Misery doesn’t disappear overnight which is a cruel truth that hasn’t changed between then and the modern era, although misery does fade overtime if you can successfully focus on the things you like and the things you still have.

You might not have your family to pull you out of this funk like last time, but at least you have Bucky (a bittersweet switch, if anything). He’s kept you distracted with different movies he wants to watch and recipes he’d like to bake. He’s always around, in fact you’ve already told him he can keep that spare key to your apartment because honestly, neither of you can remember that last time he’s actually stayed at his own.

Once you stopped stubbornly pushing him away, Bucky was allowed to bear witness to some of the demons that have been haunting your mind since the Snap. It’s safe to say you’ve done your fair share of crying in front of him, letting your frustrations slip as you curse Thanos and the universe and anyone who can possibly be linked to causing your current pain. You’ve expressed your anger with Steve, your sorrow over Natasha, and mourning for Tony.

You’re thankful that, no matter what sobs or curses have escaped you, Bucky has never filled the gap with unrealistic promises that everything will ‘be okay’. You’ve grown tired of hearing that from others, so it’s been refreshing to have someone instead hold you during your moments of vulnerability while promising that they’ll always be there for you when life gets rough.

Thanks largely to Bucky’s encouragement and support, you’ve gotten better. Not ‘better’ as in fully fixed, but ‘better’ as in you can find the strength to go on errands into town and ensure you’re maintaining a healthy diet again.

Life seems to have returned to a small sense of normal again, strongly reminding you of your stay in Romania which you had treasured so much. Coffee together in the mornings, afternoons discussing each other’s day, movie nights, and take-out dinner…It’s no wonder that your parents have inquired about your ‘boyfriend’. Your relationship sure seems to be leaning that way from the outside looking in (more than it ever has before) and, despite how desperately you try to ignore it, sometimes you find yourself drifting too far into the domestic bliss the same way you had in Romania, dangerously letting your guard down until you’re ripped back into reality by an unwanted and awful reminder…First it had been Steve appearing in your apartment those seven years ago, now this…

“You know…” Bucky’s voice easily gains your attention, earning a pleasant hum as you curl your head closer to his chest in acknowledgment.

It’s hot out today meaning the air conditioning’s been blasting with a box fan rumbling mere feet away, yet you’ve still filed no complaint towards cuddling close to his side on the couch while binging an entire season of The Office.

Despite your patience waiting for a response, it doesn’t come too promptly. Instead he awkwardly adjusts his arm around you and swallows before speaking, “...We should go out to dinner tomorrow night.”

You’re both blind and deaf to his shyness, merely perking an eyebrow without taking your eyes off the screen, “Why tomorrow? Are you on a diet that says you can’t eat dinner on Tuesday nights?”

Usually he’d chuckle at such a comment, and he nearly does, a short sound making it past his lips which he quickly bites back, “N-No, I mean, we’ll still eat dinner tonight obviously, I was just trying - I’d like to go somewhere nice together. Sit down dining, type deal.”

Finally understanding the hint, you become a bit nervous yourself, “How ‘nice’ are we exactly talking? Red Robins kinda nice or um…make a reservation nice?”

“Nicer than Red Robins…” He rubs the back of his neck with a shrug, although you don’t get a chance to voice your concerns because he skillfully spots them first, “Don’t worry about money or anything like that. I’ve been saving. I was thinking I’d treat ya’ - take you out to dinner someplace special for the evening…I promised after all.”

Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise when you push away from him so quickly that you almost fall off the couch. It would be one thing for you to just turn and look at him, however your movements are desperate as if his touch had suddenly burned you. The way you’re actually looking at him doesn’t help, either. You appear as if you’ve seen a ghost, face pale and eyes wild as you stare.

“W-When?”

“Huh -?”

“When did you promise that?” You whisper rather cautiously, only further confusing the poor man.

“In Wakanda? A week or so before you came there I promised that when we see each other again, I’d take you out to dinner - as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” Bucky frowns, visibly concerned about your behavior, enough so that he hesitates to reach out to you, “Are you alright -?”

“- I…I don’t know if that’s a good idea…‘sounds kinda like a date, don’t you think?” You try to calm your heartbeat through deep yet casual breaths, even attempting a poor laugh at the end of your sentence, however it’s clear such struggling is useless; that damage has already been done.

Bucky bows his head in shame while slowly retracing his hand, “...Would a date be so bad?”

You open your mouth only to close it, fearing the nausea that bubbles within your stomach. This isn’t how you expected your reaction to be. You’ve been dreaming of this moment, desperately hoping for the day Bucky asks you out so that you can finally rekindle that relationship you once had and miss dearly. It would have to be by his own terms, you decided long ago, not wanting to push him by making the move yourself, however secretly, there has been another reason for waiting - a certain anxiety that has interested in relevance over these last nine years.

"The second I get back, I'm taking you out to dinner - a nice place, too, I've been saving.”

“Let me do this for you, Hollie. Eight o'clock sharp. Houghton's. I'd say wear something nice, but you look dazzling in anything."

It isn’t easy having lived two lives. It isn’t easy having the memories of a different person - although still you - who remains in pieces only inside your mind and personality. You’re Hollie. You’ve maintained certain traits of hers and you continue to love all that she had…but you’re also (Y/n). You don’t look the same and you endured a new childhood, in a new world, with a new family…While in your own eyes, you’d argue that this change is minimum, equivalent to the way a child changes into a teen and a teen into an adult, there’s has always been a fear hidden within your heart that others might not see the same.

What if someone who knew you then doesn’t like who you are now?

You were able to set that question aside for the others. Steve knew Hollie as a friend. You were close, although your interactions were limited and rarely were you alone. Frankly, you became closer during your time as (Y/n) when each other's support was needed more than ever. Tony knew Hollie as an aunt when he was very young. His image of you was built upon four years of vague memories with your care and support being at the forefront; that’s all he expected from (Y/n)...Neither of them truly compared to Bucky, a man who loved Hollie in more ways than one and got to know her best despite your short time together.

What if he doesn’t like who you are now?

Bucky loved Hollie - he still loves her. You saw her picture in his wallet once when he brought groceries over. You’re okay with that part alone, however you worried that if you immediately told him from the very beginning that you’re the same person as that girl in the photo - from that first day you found him in DC - would he have only loved you because of Hollie? Because the concept of being with you was his only chance of being with her again?

It’s ridiculous and foolish. You act jealous of yourself, although you honestly believed it to be in the best interest for both of you. You don’t want to exist solely as a living memory, not an individual, and you don’t think it would’ve been healthy for Bucky, either. He needed to love you for who you are now. He needed to move on in some way.

He has moved on. Hollie’s still kept close to his heart, yet he’s sitting here now asking for you. He’s spent months - no, years probably - loving you and looking to you as a means to finally be happy. This is exactly what you wanted…so why do you still feel so shitty inside?

"(Y/n)!”

You turn your head. You can tell by his eyes that Bucky didn’t mean to raise his voice, but at least it gained your attention at last. Cautiously, he reaches for you again, this time committing to the action. It’s only when the cold metal of his thumb runs along your cheek that you realize you’re crying.

“...It doesn’t have to be a date. We don’t even have to go. Don’t -...Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s not that big of a deal?” Oh, but it is. Bucky’s such a terrible liar. If it truly wasn’t a big deal, then why did his voice crack with a dejected undertone?

“I-I’m sorry…I’m sorry. I’m just…being emotional for no reason at all,” You huff mostly to yourself, miserably attempting to rub the tears away with the edges of your sleeves. Bucky has much better luck at it, carefully using his thumbs and palms to catch your tears. All the while, he searches your eyes for any sign of harm which almost makes you forget your sadness…almost…

Meeting his gaze, you move a hand of your own to his cheek, smiling softly, “I’d love to go on a date with you, James.”

“But -”

“- I’m afraid.”

His mouth snaps shut after your whisper and it takes him a second to meet it, equally as silent, “...Why?”

You don’t answer too promptly yourself. A keen eye would notice your hesitation as you heavily debate your next action, although you hide it well behind the admiration you seem almost drunk on while running your hand back into Bucky’s much shorter hair. For years you’ve bit your tongue and danced around your inner thoughts which has been a tiring endeavor for sure, enough so that in a moment like this, you’ve lost the willpower to keep the act up, choosing to instead speak directly from your heart regardless of the risk.

“...You’ve always been so good to me, James. ‘a real knight in shining armor…You know, I was so alone before I met you, not thinkin’ I’d ever find someone who could keep up with my nonsense. Others figured me to be crazy, that or they were intimidated by me being too ‘unique’, as my family put it. Whether I tried to change or not, it didn’t matter because if I wasn’t different to the world, I was different to myself. There was no winning and my displacement only seemed to grow with age. ‘started to believe the universe cursed me for some reason - that I must’ve done something terrible in my past or perhaps I was simply too happy at some point, leaving an overdrawn balance now…I didn’t want to do it anymore, but then you came around again. You gave me hope - meaning, even.

“I feel happy with you - very happy, as if I can breathe easy and just be myself without ever worrying about judgment again because as long as you like me, that’s all I need to know that I’m not crazy,” Bucky opens his mouth, but he doesn’t get a chance when you gently place a finger to his lips, “You mean sooo much to me, James, in fact I don’t think you’ll ever be able to truly understand the full extent of my love for you…and that’s what scares me. There’s…Well, there’s something I need to tell you, but I’m afraid that whenever I do, you’ll push me away. Whether it’s because you don’t believe me or you get mad at me -”

“- I could never get mad at you, darling -”

“- You say that now and I'm sure you believe it, but once you hear what I have to say, you might change your mind -”

“- I don’t think that’s possible -”

“- James -”

“- You said that I might not understand the extent of your love, but I don’t think you understand mine,” He interrupts more sternly, slowly grasping your wrist and lowering your hand over his heart. He holds it there and doesn’t let go, a hint of shyness in his eyes, “You mean a lot to me - you have meant a lot to me for a while now. Around you, I feel relaxed a-as if all those things HYDRA had done never happened. I start to think that I might actually deserve a happy life by your side and even if I don’t, then fuck it, I don’t find myself caring. I want to be with you anyways because every second that I’m not, I’m restless like a piece of me is gone…Being here with you, I…It’s a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time…There’s nothing you could say to make it suddenly go away.”

You chuckle apprehensively with a shake of your head, letting your gaze finally fall from his, “...I bet I could…”

“I highly doubt it,” He rolls his eyes, leaning close enough for his own quiet laughter to be felt. You steal a glance at his lips, nearly giving into your own temptation to touch them, although you hesitate there instead.

“You don’t know -”

“- I don’t need to then -”

“- This is serious, James!” You plead weakly, trying to pull your hand from his and move off his lap where you just now notice he’s brought you, yet it should be of no surprise that he’s stronger than you and won’t let this matter drop so easily without resolve.

Your actions cause his concern to return and he becomes serious once again, his stormy eyes watching you so very carefully with his bottom lip puffed out in a pout, “...What’s really wrong, (Y/n)? I don't get it. You just said that you love me too and that must be true - I believe that it's true because, I mean, why else would you have stuck by my side after all the shit I’ve dragged you into? I-If I have to do more to prove my love for you, I will, if that’s what has you so worried - Or if you’re not ready for a relationship yet, that’s fine, too. Just…tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it. No more beatin’ around the bush…Please, darling…”

Suddenly, your eyes feel so stern watching him despite the tears that fill them as you slightly bow your head in what you would deem as shame, although he might mistake it for anger given how persistent and strange you’re behaving. He’s all ears, though. Maybe slightly taken aback by your vulnerable speech, but this isn’t the first time you’ve expressed your inner thoughts with him since the Snap and he’s here to listen without judgment as he’s always been. He just hopes he didn’t make you uncomfortable by overstepping.  

Usually you're the one to make him flustered. He thought all of your prior flirting meant he was safe to ask you out, however he’s now starting to second guess all of that. He hasn’t dated since Hollie, after all. He’s been out of the game for so long, it’s completely possible that he read the situation wrong. Then again, you just admitted to loving him, so what’s stopping you? You had assured long ago that you have no actual fiancé, he's certain you aren't dating anyone else at the moment, and you've both gone in public countless times together, so surely you aren't ashamed to be seen with him even despite his muddy past. Is it too soon after the Snap? Are you just not ready for commitment? Why are you suddenly acting so hesitant as if you haven't spent the last several years longing for each other?

"...Bucky," He shallows somewhat nervously when you whisper his name, meeting eyes once again, "...I'm Holiday Stark..."

NEXT CHAPTER ->

<- PREVIOUS CHAPTER

[writemywaytoyourheart]

One → Two

a/n: guess who finally got a laptop mofos? when I say that this fic has given me grief.....I am in no way exaggerating,,,, but, the past is behind us! let’s just enjoy it now 😅 pls...I seriously hope y’all like this. technically it’s still Friday for some people ;) and I promise that the story will get better as we go along.

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of alcohol consumption, a creeper dude, emotional abuse, insinuations of past sexual abuse, insinuations of self harm, language.

Word count: 3.7k

Trigger Warning: if you are easily triggered by this type of stuff, pls don't read it. I have some fluff on my account, you should enjoy that instead! Here's a link to my other works → BTS ML

Tag list: @melikeylikeyjimin

If you wanna be on the tag list, send me an ask or dm :)

Daisies in the Dark Masterlist

All stories have a beginning and all stories have an end.

But, how does one know where to start a story? And maybe, sometimes we don't want to know the end; since unfortunately, not all stories have a good finish. Perhaps we'd like to leave it unfinished and rewrite it in our minds, because all humans want a happy ending.

You're still reading so I guess you'd like to see for yourself how this story goes.

Have you ever heard the story of how the sun fell in love with the moon?

No?

Well, you're about to...

And I can't promise you that it's going to go the way you'd like.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

3 yrs before the incident

One more chance. I'll give her one more chance, you thought as you grit your teeth, watching your once best friend in the lunch line chatting it up with the annoying girl from history class.

Your breath caught in your throat when your former bff Lena made eye contact with you from across the cafeteria after filling her lunch tray. A small smile went to find it's way onto your face when Lena's eye contact lingered, but it was gone in a matter of seconds when she just twitched an eyebrow and sauntered off to sit at a table across the room; the conversation between Lena and her new bestie continuing as if nothing had happened.

So it was true, she'd left you for someone else. Like you were worth nothing more to that girl than a tissue; use it once and throw it away. Not a very good comparison at the time, but that's all you could think of as you watched them sit down; you were worth no more than a small used tissue.

Figures...

Your hands started to twitch awkwardly not knowing what to do with themselves now and you stared at the lasagna on your lunch tray; if you could even call it that–all it was was a lump of overcooked noodles drenched in sauce the color of a burnt tomato with who knows what posing as the ground beef, covered in a crispy layer of cheese.

You definitely weren't hungry, but staring at the sad excuse for lunch in front of you and contemplating life as nothing more than a wisp of a tissue floating through the air, not knowing where it might end up–was better than watching Lena start a new chapter without you.

It didn't make sense, you were best friends...weren't you? Guess it didn't matter now, since a friendship takes two people to make it work, and seeing as one was currently occupied elsewhere, you would have to make do with what you had, which was...a depressed piece of lasagna staring at you from it's home on the untouched tray. You poked at it with your fork and looked at it-thinking. Then you whispered to the disheartening meal,

"Oh well...at least you're not gonna leave me for that annoying- what was her name? I don't even know, but who cares, right?"

Then you suddenly realized what you were doing and looked up quickly in embarrassment, afraid someone had seen you. But the regular drone of kids talking, shouting and laughing was the same as always. Of course no one had noticed, because you were invisible.

And you were talking to a piece of lasagna.

Highschool was great....

You were a senior this year, at seventeen. At least this was the last year of hell, then you could do whatever you wanted. You had a lot of things you wanted to do and places to travel to, maybe you couldn't do them all but you'd be damned if you didn't at least try.

But one thing was for sure, you couldn't just sit there and stare at that fake lasagna pretending like Lena wasn't betraying you right across the room. So you got up and brought your uneaten food to the window where kids leave their empty lunch trays and put your tray down, but kept the small carton of chocolate milk. Then headed out of the cafeteria to spend the rest of your lunchbreak in the library. You fiddled with the unopened milk carton and mumbled to yourself while you walked,

"It's fine, I don't need her anyway."

Just numb the pain.

That wasn't the first or the last time.

-

-

2 yrs before the incident

"Uhhh, ya know what little missy? I think if you give me twenty-five percent off everything, maybe we could come to a compromise?"

This man......was going to die in a minute if he kept going on like this.

You tried your hardest not to just scream at this pervert to leave and say you wouldn't do a damn thing for him. You just settled for licking your dry lips while he started to smirk at you. He brought his hand up to rest against the counter, then started to slowly tap his fingers. You made eye contact with him and said sternly, "I'm sorry sir, but I can't do that."

"What if I give you my phone number? And we'll make it fifteen percent..." He tried again, not once breaking eye contact with you.

"Excuse me sir-"

"Yes, doll?"

"Do you have a coupon?"

"No, I don't bu-"

"Then no, we can't move the price down at all, would you like to pay the full price or leave sir?" You stared him dead in the eyes, this creep, you thought angrily, how dare he call me that? I hope he just leaves, I don't care if he doesn't buy anything. The man leaned over the cash register, "hmm, this isn't very good customer service. Maybe I won't come back." Please don't, you thought, but instead of saying that you settled for, "it's not about customer service, this is store policy, I'm sorry sir but I can't do anything."

"Ya know what? I like it when you call me sir- you say that a lot to me....what's a pretty little lady like you doing working in a rundown grocery store, hm? What about college? You're what, eighteen? If you'd like, I can give you my number and you won't have to worry about this job, I'll take care of you." He smirked and arched an eyebrow at you from the other side of the counter.

It was probably a good thing there was a big cash register between the two of you, since you weren't sure what would've happened if you had free range. By now your brain was just blurry and you saw nothing but blackness because of the fury settling inside. What a disgusting man. You didn't care if you got fired, you were gonna teach him a lesson or two about trying to get young girls to do stuff for him in exchange for money. You leaned forward which made him lean back in surprise, then you said loud enough for the other people in line to hear,

"If you do not pay the full price right here right now, then leave. If you think I'm looking for a sugar daddy then you are sadly mistaken. You have enough money to pay for a girl's life in exchange for your own personal services, so you have enough to pay the full thirty five dollars. There are people waiting behind you so make up your mind now, sir." You said the last word mockingly and raised an eyebrow at him in defiance. The man's eyes grew in shock, then he glared at you but he didn't say a word as he threw forty bucks in your direction, grabbed his bags and stomped out of the store.

You took a deep breath and smiled at the next customer who cautiously came forward with their items.

-

The second you stepped through the door after working a twelve hour shift you slumped against the wall and yanked your sneakers off; dropping them to the floor carelessly. The apartment was dark so you assumed your mom wasn't home- probably out drinking away her troubles again. Walking into the kitchen, you sighed at the sink full of dirty dishes, and the counters that were no better. The smell wasn't too bad, probably because your nose was used to it by now. You walked to a cupboard and rummaged around until you found a sleeve of saltine crackers. After that you grabbed the softened butter and a knife and walked to your room; stepping over and around the miscellaneous junk spread throughout the apartment.

After about an hour of sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone and munching on what your dinner was that night, you heard the door open and what you could only assume was your mother stumble inside. Your mother's heels clacked against the hard floor by the door, then a heavier pair of footsteps could be heard with them. You sighed deeply, but stayed as quiet as you could. Not again, you thought miserably. Just, please just go do whatever you're gonna do and leave me alone, you prayed silently squeezing your eyes shut.

There was a lot of stumbling and cursing and your chest was tight with anxiety, scared that at any moment they would drunkenly come into your room by accident. Eventually, your mother's bedroom door slammed shut and you let out the breath you had been holding. Thank you God, thank you, you clasped your hands and shook them, then carefully and as quietly as you could, you set the remaining crackers and butter on your nightstand. Then you shifted in bed to lie on your left side and tried to make sure the bed didn't creak at your movements– cringing a little when it squeaked a bit. It was gonna be alright, he–whoever he was, didn't know you were in the house.

You closed your eyes and tried to ignore the lingering feeling on your skin, even though it had been over a year since the last time. You stuffed your hands over your ears, willing yourself to sleep despite whatever was going on on the other side of the wall.

-

Morning came all too soon, and with it a massive pounding headache from the lack of sleep. You groaned when the sun hit your eyes and made the darkness an annoying shade of orangey red from behind your eyelids, your brain in a fog from the tiny bit of sleep you were able to get even though it was plagued by nightmares. Then you suddenly snapped awake and shot up in bed, grabbing your chest and feeling all around yourself frantically, breathing a sigh of relief when you felt your shirt still on your body. You were okay, it was just another nightmare. You tried to steady your breathing while taking deep breaths in and blowing them out slowly. Then you looked towards the door and cupped a hand by your ear; listening intently. After a minute or two of silence that didn't really prove anything, you sighed and swung your legs out of bed- planting your feet on the floor despite laundry being scattered everywhere. Sneaking towards the door you put an ear to it then slowly turned the knob. Normally you wouldn't even be risking going out of the safety of your room but you really had to pee, you would just have to be quick.

You scurried quietly to the bathroom and when you were finished you were on your way back when your mom's door swung open. You flinched and wrung your hands keeping your eyes downcast, too afraid to look up. But then you sighed in relief when it was only your mother that pushed past you to go to the bathroom. You decided to risk it and peeked into your mom's bedroom. A weight lifted off your chest at the sight of the empty bed–he must have left earlier.

-

"Aren't you supposed to be working or something? Why're you just sitting around reading?" Your mother scoffed at you from the doorway, after slamming your bedroom door open to confront you.

You set your book down–not ready for another fight, "they gave me today off, I'm back on the schedule tomorrow." Your mother just glared at you and crossed her arms, "oh, so you think we can afford to have you lying around, taking days off? Lazy ass." With that she turned and slammed the door shut, leaving you to sit there and scold your heart to stop hurting, because it just wasn't worth it.

You don't need her Y/n...

Just numb the pain.

So that's what you did.

-

-

1 1/2 yrs before the incident

You walked into the apartment after three classes in a row; each one being about two hours long. You dropped your backpack by the door with a thud then changed your mind and picked it up again, not wanting another fight when someone tripped over it in their drunken state. You decided just putting it in your room would be best. 

Canned vegetables with canned chicken really wasn't too bad if one could figure out the right stuff to put in it. After years of this, you had discovered your favorite seasonings and you were mixing yourself up a nice concoction for lunch before going to work, humming and talking to yourself as you did so–when there was loud pounding on the front door.

You weren't very alarmed, knowing exactly who it was, and so you opened the door and stepped aside as your mother staggered in, thankfully alone. Turning to look at you, your mother's eyes were a bit glassy as she spoke, "is there any food around here or do I have to do all the work for that too?" She wasn't drunk, but she wasn't too far away from it. You didn't say anything and just walked to the kitchen, took your lunch and handed it to your mother.

"I just made this for you, thought you'd be home soon."

Your mom just snatched it away and walked to her room calling over her shoulder, "almost nineteen years old and all you can do is make a half-assed meal for the woman that gave up everything for your lazy ass."

You just grabbed your bag and put your shoes on, trying to ignore the insistent hunger pangs in your stomach, then walked out the door for work.

-

"Y/n? May I speak with you please?" It was the next day and you were just leaving the history classroom when your professor called you over. Your grades were far from satisfactory, but you really did try. You walked over to Professor Kim's (who also happened to teach your Korean class as well) desk and tried not to hang your head, since you knew what was coming. She was a nice lady, but could also be strict at times.

"Y/n, I'm going to get straight to the point. I heard that you wanted to travel to South Korea. We both know you're struggling a bit in the academic department, but I know you're a good girl, and you speak Korean pretty well."

You looked up, utterly confused, this wasn't about you almost failing history class? Professor Kim just smiled and continued, "there is a scholarship program to go and stay in Seoul for a year, learning Korean and going to the university there. I thought you might be interested in it."

You were so shocked you couldn't speak for a full minute, just stuttering out nonsense until Professor Kim laughed and put her hand on your shoulder. Then she handed you a packet, telling you to fill it out and give it back to her as soon as possible.

This couldn't be happening. Good things didn't happen to you. Could this actually be your escape?

You thanked Professor Kim over and over then scurried out of the room before anything else could be said and possibly destroy this amazing opportunity. As you left there was a new lift to your step.

-

Two weeks had passed and no word from the scholarship people. You turned nineteen in those two weeks, but that didn't mean much to you. All you could think about was the scholarship. Things at home didn't change, they never did. Until one day when you were heading home from work, completely exhausted, and you saw the mailman at the front door knocking. You ran up the steps but your mother opened the door right when you got there. You said hello to the man and took the mail from him, being our to thank him. When you turned to go inside, your mother snatched all the mail from you and stalked off. You followed her cautiously, "uh, may I see that? I think I might have gotten something." Your mother turned and glared at you then spat, "and what could you have gotten in the mail? You don't even have friends, and the bills are in my name." You tried not to roll your eyes, even though the bills were in your mother's name, she wasn't the one paying them.

Scanning through the envelopes, your mother stopped when she saw one with the name Y/n Y/l/n on the front. She turned and looked at you accusingly, "what is this?" Before you had time to even process what you were doing you snatched the envelope out of her hands and dashed around her, running to your room. You shut the door and locked it, hearing the woman outside screaming horrible accusations and threats at you but not caring a single bit. The envelope was white–super white actually, almost looking unnatural. Your fingers shook as you gently tore it open, running a finger carefully along the top so you could pull the letter out. The paper inside was just as bright, and the bold black lettering stood out.

Your breathing hitched, was this actually happening? A second scan over the letter and a quick yet painful pinch to the arm confirmed that, yes, this was actually happening. Your hands trembled as you slowly pulled your phone out of your pocket and carefully typed in the number printed on the paper. The sounds of your mother screaming outside the door and hitting it, the cars outside, your own heart pounding in your ears- it all faded away to a dull thudding when you heared the ringing through the phone, once, twice, you held your breath, three rings in, four......click

"Hello? This is Jill Dunning, how can I help you?"

"H-hello? I- I was told to call you."

"Are you Y/n Y/l/n, by any chance?"

You cleared your throat nervously, then took a deep breath before answering.

"Yes, I am."

-

1 month later 

The flight there was extremely long and tiring so by the time you were getting off; you could’ve cried tears of joy, having felt like the plane ride really was going to last forever and you’d never step on solid ground again. But there you were; standing in the middle of the Seoul airport, completely and utterly free.

Not to mention, completely and utterly lost.

You looked around but couldn’t see anything other than a lot of people rushing around; businessmen and women, families with little children that stared at you with wide eyes, college students; and yet not a single soul that looked like they might help you find who you were looking for. You shifted your heavy backpack and decided to walk a bit, maybe you could find where the luggage came through and you could at least collect the rest of your bags. After you walked for another minute you saw a sign with a suitcase on it, hanging from the ceiling with an arrow pointing down. You hurried over to where it was pointing and saw a giant metal thing with suitcases going around on it, people looking at tags and grabbing them before hurrying off again. 

You walked over briskly and just in time too, because your two suitcases had just come around the bend in the giant machine. You double checked the tags and after confirming they were yours, you heaved them off the machine and caught your breath after setting them next to you. Then you had to figure out where you were and where your roommate, who was to be picking you up, was. You went to the name of your roommate in your contacts and pressed it before you held your phone to your ear. After one ring, the sweet voice of your roommate answered in Korean.

“Hello? Y/n?”

“Hey Eui, I just got here and I’m so lost. I just got my bags.”

“I’m so sorry Y/n! I’ll be there in less than five minutes. Traffic was awful, but I’m walking into the airport now. Just stay by the baggage area, ok?”

”Ok, thanks Eui.”

You had talked to her on the phone many times over the past four weeks and you really liked her, you couldn’t wait to meet in person. You hung up and looked around, watching everyone else go about their days; rushing to catch flights, leisurely browsing the shops in the airport, then you heard an excited squeal and turned to see a girl running and jumping into the arms of a boy who you assumed was her boyfriend. You just smiled and kept looking around- trying not to think about how badly you wished that was you.

“Y/n?”

You turned at the sound of Eui’s voice and smiled widely when she approached you with open arms. Eui wrapped her arms around you and then pulled away, still smiling, “welcome to Seoul, are you ready to start over?” That had to be the best sentence you ever heard in your life. You smiled back at her and grabbed one of your suitcases while Eui grabbed the other one.

“Definitely.”

And you were; a new place, a new school, a friendly face, and no people from your past. It was time to start over and let things go, because life just got a whole lot easier.

You had no idea that whether you liked it or not, your past would continue to haunt you, no matter how many miles away you ran.

“Let’s go.”

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