#rereading the first chapter was a STRUGGLE

[lozeyart]

I went back to my old (abandoned) webcomic "Below Our Feet" and chose this page to redraw (because it was easy and I'm lazy). Also added some closeups! Mistakes I made this time around were that I made my canvas too small to work on, so on the new page, the word bubbles look too cramped (oh well, lesson learned) but overall I think I really improved! At least when it comes to the art side of things. When I was most of the way through I actually wished I had changed up the panel layout, and wished I showed them together in the same panels more than twice. I did change some of the dialogue slightly and changed how Alex (the taller one) dresses. This is on me when I made the comic, but the story takes place in 1847 in a fictional English town and I accidentally dressed Alex up in a mix of Regency and Victorian era clothing because I didn't do enough research. He is now wearing appropriate Victorian era clothing, albeit mid Victorian era clothing as there are more sources on clothing in the 1870s vs the 1840s. A part of me misses this webcomic and wants to do a reboot, there are a lot of things I would do differently, and I'd want to make it more of a slow burn, as I felt I was rushing things in the original, but I don't have the drive to do this project anymore, and want to do other things. But I still love my boys! Maybe one day I'll do something with them and their story, who knows!

[yannfredericks]

>:(

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 OFFER ME MY DEATHLESS DEATH

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one drunken encounter with dazai sends everything spiraling. suddenly, all of your problems are catching up to you at once and you're lost as to how you should proceed... or that's not entirely true—you know how you're going to proceed but it's impossible for you to come to terms with how far you've let this go.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: sorry that i haven't really been active this week </3 i've been so busy. ill try to get to asks and everything soon. forgive me</3 i hope you guys enjoy part 5, i rlly had fun writing this chapter. as always, comments and reblogs appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. reader and dazai argue, reader is a bit intoxicated, dazai heavily implied suicide attempt (not outright said/described bc he can't remember, but he assumes that's what happened) & he dissociates, dazai is in a pretty bad mental state the first half of the chapter, i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

You stopped seeking him out after that night.

Dazai sits in his apartment, knees curled to his chest and back pressed against the wall. He has to forcibly keep his breath steady—his homework for his engineering class is discarded somewhere to his left, he’d been working on it for class tomorrow before he made the mistake of checking his phone and seeing that you’d once again stopped reading his messages. 

Two days straight now of silence on your end. He could go to your apartment like he’s been doing for the past two weeks but every time he tries to push himself to his feet with the intention of going to you, he finds himself rooted to the ground. Your words ring damningly and persistently through his head—how you told Nakahara Chuuya that you’re only doing this because he found the proof of your occupation, how you told him that you tried to cut him off.

Dazai knew what he was doing by using the video as leverage over you. He knew he was forcing you into indulging him, that he was backing you into a corner, but he’d allowed himself to be blinded by your treatment of him. 

Even if it was coerced, no one has ever treated him the way you do—you remember the things he tells you off-handedly like he matters and you buy him the things he wants without him having to say anything like you care. You’re gentle with him—Dazai has only ever experienced bruising touches; Oda and Ango weren’t physical people and he can hardly remember his mother. He remembers the way his aunt dragged him out of the car kicking and screaming, tossing him to the ground in Suribachi before driving away. He remembers all of the nights he would get drunk at bars, ending up in strangers’ beds and waking up with a body that ached painfully and dark marks littered across his bandaged skin.

It’s hard to remember that you don’t actually want him when you treat him the same way he’s dreamed someone would treat him one day. It’s hard to remember that you turn your head away when he leans in to kiss you, that you ignore his lingering touches and change the subject whenever he almost gathers the nerve to bring the topic up to you.

You don’t want him. 

He’s forcing you to do this by using the video as leverage. 

You don’t want him. 

He rests his forehead on his knees. That gaping hole in his chest that had started to return that night after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment is all consuming now. His entire body feels numb and prickly, he feels uncomfortable in his own skin.

He needs to put a stop to this.

His gaze draws from his knees to the floorboard he’s hiding the flash drive under. He could just… get rid of it. Get rid of it and disappear—you probably wouldn’t even notice. Maybe you would, he remembers how you came to his apartment when you hadn’t heard from him after sending the couch. Then again, you might’ve only shown up because you wanted to lie about why you were cutting him off. Dazai just doesn’t know with you.

Maybe he should just go to talk to you. 

But if he talks to you… and the thought of leaving his apartment right now…

Dazai sighs, leaning back against the wall, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling, weighing both options carefully before coming to a heavy decision.

You’re not in your apartment when he gets there.

Dazai would usually wander around and find something to make himself busy with while he waits for you. You have a piano on the opposite side of the room that he sometimes likes to fiddle with—he’s taught himself a few basic songs while waiting for you to get back from work the past few weeks. He ordered a gaming console and a few games to go along with it when you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open last week, but he doesn’t even have the energy to go look for one; not that any are even particularly standing out to him. Sometimes, he just snoops around, but his legs feel like lead, like they’re bolted to the ground, so he just sits on your couch and stares at the black television screen as the minutes tick by.

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there—too long, it was still light out when he walked his way over to your building in Naka-ku and the sun had set a long time ago. He’s never felt lonely in your apartment before; in fact, he usually seeks out your apartment because he feels lonely and whether you’re here or not, it eases the void that grows in his chest.

But now? Each passing second, he feels colder and colder. A part of him thinks that he should take this as a sign and just leave, but his body is uncooperative, keeping him rooted to your couch as he awaits your return.

He’s planned out what he’s going to say to you; he’s rehearsed it in his head so many times that he thinks he could say the dreadful words while sleeping. Now, he just-

Dazai’s head snaps to the side when he hears the fateful ding of the elevator arriving at your floor. His eyes widen and his tongue swells with anxiety as he stares at the doors, his breath slows and his fingers bite into his pants as he waits to see you step into the room but when the doors finally start to slide open, he freezes when he hears laughter.

“I can’t stand you,” an unfamiliar male voice snorts and Dazai’s mouth dries as his gaze darts around, trying to figure out what to do. The last thing he wants is for a repeat of the other night—if this is another one of your mafia friends, Dazai has to move, but he doesn’t know where to go.

His gaze settles on a nearby hall leading to the bathroom and an unused room—it’s closer to him than the kitchen, he’d never make it to the kitchen because he’d have to go right past the elevator. His legs feel so heavy that it’s an effort for him to push himself to his feet. He almost stumbles right over them as he rushes into the spare room, keeping the door cracked open so he can hear and see what’s going on.

He peeks carefully through the crack, watching as two men enter your apartment—you’re with them and Dazai’s chest tightens painfully at the sight of you. You’re smiling as you lean against one of the men—Dazai recognizes him as the man who had come with you to his apartment complex the first time, he’d been waiting by the car for you—and you’re dressed prettily in a short black dress. You’re so dazzling to him that Dazai nearly tumbles right out of the room he’s hiding in, but luckily, he’s drawn out of his dazed state by another unfortunately familiar face: Nakahara Chuuya, the executive who had been at your apartment the other night.

Dazai quickly leans back into the room when the ginger’s eyes snap down the hall as if he could sense someone watching him. He lets out a puff of air as he looks around the empty room—he’d looked in here before when he first started coming to your apartment, but had been sorely disappointed by the fact that there was nothing in the room for him to snoop around in.

Now, he blinks because while the room is still mostly empty, there are some tools in here as if you’d had someone come in to take measurements to start building something in there. His gaze slides from the far wall to the one nearest to him, dragging his feet against the wood floors to slide his fingers against the lines drawn on the wall in pencil, realizing that it’s about the same size as the piano in the other room.

His throat tightens as he remembers your offer from the other day, wondering if you’d gone ahead and started having it done even after the argument with Chuuya and Dazai not showing up for two days. 

God, he doesn’t understand you—he doesn’t understand you at all. He starts to doubt every conclusion he’s come to the past two days because why would you go to these lengths for someone you don’t care about? For someone who’s forcing you into indulging him through blackmail? It doesn’t make sense, Dazai has never had so much trouble reading someone before you.

He leans against the wall, lashes lowering as he looks down at the floor. He doesn’t know what to think and now his well-rehearsed speech starts crumbling in his head. Distantly, he can hear the conversation between you and the other two mafiosos—you’re talking about something happening in Tokyo and Dazai wonders if it has anything to do with that argument from the other night.

But regardless of the topic of discussion, what matters more is that you sound happy. Your voice is light and airy, and you seem entirely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t seen Dazai in days. Dazai doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so happy with him before and why would you when he’s blackmailing you? Your laughter rings bright and pretty like a chime and Dazai feels sick to his stomach at the thought of you laughing like that for someone else; he imagines the way your laughter will fizzle when you see him, all of the liveliness in your face dying at his unanticipated appearance.

It feels like an eternity and all too soon at the same time when Dazai finally hears the two leave. He takes one deep breath, preparing to force himself out from where he’s hiding but then freezes at the sound of you raising your voice.

“Dazai, you can come out now.”

He blanches, staring at the partially closed door in front of him, half-debating on not even coming out because how did you know he was here? He thought he’d been careful, there’s-

“I know you’re somewhere in here, the cushion was warm where you were sitting.”

Dazai has half a mind to throw himself out of the window.

He takes in a deep breath as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hallway that’s suddenly too cold and all too short. He swears it was twice as long when he was stumbling from the couch to hide in the spare room. His feet scuffle against the ground as he walks forward, not coming any closer than where the hallway meets your living room.

You’re laying on the couch he’d been sitting on, head resting back against the pillows and a curious expression on your face as you watch him. He can’t read it—if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was fond, but he refuses to let that hope bubble up into his chest only for it to be crushed again. He thinks he should say something, tossing around a few options in his head, but he doesn’t get the chance to.

You hold out your hand to him. “Come here,” you say.

Dazai hesitates, eyes lingering on your extended hand before flitting back up to your face. He shouldn’t—he knows he shouldn’t—but he finds his feet moving forward before he can stop himself. He stands in front of you awkwardly for a moment, not sure what you want from him, but then his eyes shoot open when you reach out and grab his wrist, tugging him forward onto the couch with you. 

He pretends he doesn’t yelp when he lands on top of you, face flaming up when he shifts himself into a sitting position so that he’s straddling your waist, trying not to drop all of his weight onto you. He also pretends that he’s not entirely thrown off by the way your hands rest on his thighs, absently running them up and down the sides of them. 

“Where have you been the past few days?” you ask him quietly.

Dazai’s blood pressure spikes at the curious look you give him, as if he hadn’t been texting you for days with no response. He can smell the alcohol on you now that he’s closer and he wonders how much you drank—he thinks that’s probably why you looked so fond before and that’s probably why you’re suddenly being so touchy with him, it has nothing to do with him. That empty feeling in his chest starts to return.

He should have just left, should have just destroyed the flash drive and disappeared. 

“I texted you,” he replies tightly, feeling wildly uncomfortable as he’s unable to get a hold on the way he’s spiraling internally. “I can see you’ve been busy though.”

You tilt your head to the side as if you’re unsure of what he means and Dazai almost wants to get up and leave but the feeling of your hands on him, his lower body pressed to yours, it leaves him dizzy and slow. His breath catches as your hands slip beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing out against his bandaged sides, thumb drawing slow circles over the covered skin as if trying to calm him down.

Dazai thinks he might hate you.

He thinks he might hate himself more because it works. His heartbeat slows and relaxes into you a bit more. He wants to take you by the shoulders and shake you, wants to demand answers, wants to know if you actually care about him or if this is all just some big show for the flash drive. 

“I haven’t looked at my phone,” you finally say. “I’ve been the one dealing with the issues in Tokyo. It’s just been meeting after meeting the past few days. I thought you’d be here when I got back but you weren’t.”

Were you waiting for him? He wants to ask. Expecting him? Or are you just saying that because you can tell he’s unhappy and don’t want to deal with his attitude? Dazai just doesn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate with your hands on his body.

“Can we talk?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments.

“What about?”

About the flash drive. About you. About him. Dazai doesn’t know—about everything. So, instead he just says: “About this.”

Instantly, you turn your head away from him and Dazai’s frustration rises at your attempt at blatantly ignoring him. He reaches out to grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him and Dazai’s breath catches when your lidded stare lands on him.

“I’m drunk,” you tell him flatly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Bullshit,” Dazai immediately snaps, the pads of his fingers digging a bit too hard into your cheeks but you’re unfazed by it, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I think-”

Dazai doesn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence because you’re pushing yourself up from your laying position, one hand slipping out from his sweatshirt to cup the back of his head, the other still firm on his hip as you drag him down against you. Dazai’s breath catches when you press your lips against his, lashes fluttering shut. The hand on his hip slides around to his back, holding his body flush to yours—he lets out a low moan into your mouth when you nip at his bottom lip.

No, he thinks hazily, trying to push himself off of you but instead, his hands cup your cheeks and he tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. Your tongues dance in a way that leaves him dazed, it feels almost intimately familiar to him, somehow so in tune with one another that it’s like you’ve kissed hundreds of times before. 

He shouldn’t be doing this, he knows this. You said it yourself that you’re drunk, he knows you only kissed him to get him to stop talking but…Dazai sighs into your mouth when he feels the tips of your finger card through his hair, feeling you shift beneath him to let his hips slot between your legs.

But isn’t this what he’s wanted this whole time? 

Aren’t you finally giving him what you’ve denied him for weeks?

Your lips are intoxicating against his, and not because of the gin staining your tongue, he can hardly focus on anything with the way your tongue traces the back of his teeth, dragging against the roof of his mouth. He groans when you shift beneath him, one leg hooking around his waist. He separates his lips from yours to gasp for breath.

Shit, he thinks, lips parting when you kiss his jaw, trailing your lips to his ear to suck gently on the skin there before kissing slowly down his neck. He swears his entire body is on fire, breaths quick and shuddered; his mind feels so muddled and hazy that he has to actively tell himself to put a stop to this and even that is almost not enough.

It takes all of his willpower to push himself off of you, still breathing heavy, lips wet and swollen, his whole body tingling everywhere your lips and hands had touched. You stare up at him and Dazai’s body aches with need when he sees you’re nearly as breathless as he is, your own lips wet from his, eyes a bit glazed over. Heat burns in his lower abdomen but he can’t, not when he knows you’re drunk and not when he knows you’re only doing this to get him to stop talking.

Before Dazai can say anything, you look away from him again and he knows that it’s over.

“I’m tired,” you say. “Help me get to bed. We can talk in the morning.”

Dazai’s lashes lower as he nods, leaning down to help you to your feet. Even with your heels kicked off, you wobble on your feet, so he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady. The silence is almost foreboding as Dazai guides you up the stairs to your bedroom; you don’t make any move to break it, so Dazai does.

“We’re not going to talk about it in the morning, are we?” he asks quietly, looking down at you. You don’t look up at him and Dazai just wants you to at least look at him so when he gets you to the door of your bedroom, he stops and looks at you. You still don’t look at him. “Can you at least look at me?”

Dazai thinks he might be sick from the way you have to seemingly force yourself to look at him. Even drunk, he can see the displeasure plain on your face and it makes him want to curl in on himself again.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dazai,” you finally say, your voice is tight. “I want to go to bed.”

“I want to talk about it,” Dazai stresses. “I-”

Frustration flies across your face, emotions loosened in your intoxicated state. You turn away from him and slam open your bedroom door and Dazai winces, taking half a step back.

“It’s always what you want, Dazai,” you hiss. 

Dazai’s heart sinks, shaking his head because he doesn’t want to hear where you’re going with this. “Stop.”

“For weeks, I have been catering to what you want and now I don’t want one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum over it. I don’t want to talk about this—I don’t want to talk about it now, I don’t want to talk about it in the morning, I don’t want to talk about it. Can you just leave it be?”

Dazai takes another step back, staring at you silently. His ears ring as your words echo through them and though he can watch your face shift from frustration to guilt, it doesn’t process in his head—not really, not when all he can hear are your words on repeat over and over again. 

You reach out for him, fingers curling around his wrist but Dazai pulls his hand back, taking a step away from you, closer to the stairs. All of his fight or flight instincts are triggered, his body itches to run, to flee downstairs and get out of your apartment, but his legs are uncooperative, feet rooted to the ground as he stares at you blankly.

“I didn’t mean that,” you say after a few moments. “I didn’t-I just-”

“It’s okay,” Dazai replies, voice a bit distant even to his own ears. “I’ll drop it.”

“Dazai-”

“Let me help you get into bed,” Dazai interrupts, forcing a smile onto his face as he pushes himself forward. His movements feel weird and clunky, unnatural almost, but he successfully leads you into your room, pulling back the sheets to help you into bed. “C’mon.”

He helps you slip into the bed and pulls the sheets over you, there’s still that hazy look in your eyes as you look up at him and Dazai tries his best to make sure that the smile on his face doesn’t look strained. He’s pretty sure you can see through it even while drunk. You reach out to grab his wrist again and this time, Dazai doesn’t pull away. 

“Stay here tonight,” you say quietly. “Lay down with me.”

“I have class in the morning.” Dazai shakes his head, as much as he might ache to stay in your presence, he thinks if he stays in it a moment longer, he might actually break down—he can’t get your words to stop echoing. Only a steadily crumbling dam is holding back the torrent of emotions ripping apart his chest. “I can’t.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“I have to get all of my books, and finish my homework,” he tells you. “I can’t.”

“We’ll leave early,” you press, leaning up on your elbows. “C-”

“I can’t,” Dazai stresses, taking a step back and shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to go.”

You look conflicted, but to his relief and distress, you finally let go of his wrist. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. After your classes. You finish at three, right? There’s a restaurant in Minami-ku I’ve been meaning to take you to.”

Dazai’s throat spasms as he swallows, shaking his head again. “I’m busy after class tomorrow. I have meetings for group projects.”

“When are they over? I’ll pick you up after.”

He feels a bit sick to his stomach as he looks up at your ceiling, in turmoil and unsure as to what to do. He knows you’re not doing this because you feel bad—not really—he knows it has to do with the flashdrive. He knows it. He thought it would be easier having someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, even if it was only because of blackmail because at least he would have someone, but he was wrong because this is a type of torture that Dazai just can’t endure any longer.

“I’m not going to want to do anything after, I’ll be drained.”

“Then we don’t have to do anything.” God, you won’t stop trying. You won’t stop trying and Dazai knows that if it wasn’t for that stupid flash drive, you’d have laughed in his face and told him to get out. He thinks he might actually throw up. “I’ll pick up the food before going to get you. We’ll stay in. Watch a movie.”

“No,” Dazai says, raising his voice now. “No. I’m just going to go back to my place. I have to go.”

Though his legs feel like lead and his body still yearns to be near yours, he forces himself to leave your room. Doesn’t look back when you call his name. Doesn’t hesitate at the top of the stairs when you tell him to wait. He nearly stumbles as he makes his way down the stairs and when he gets to the bottom instead of rushing toward the elevator, he sits on the arm of your couch, resting his head in his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

You’re so frustrating. So impossible to read that it’s beginning to take a toll on Dazai. He doesn’t understand why you’re so adamant on not having a conversation about all of this. He thought you would’ve wanted to have a conversation about it for the chance of getting the flash drive away from him. 

You’ve done everything in your power to avoid any physical contact with him until now; only finally giving it to him when there’s an issue you really don’t want to talk about to try to distract him. Hell, you’d prefer to even talk to him about mafia business—you vented all about the issues with the Shimazaki-kai to him, and Dazai would think that’s the last thing you’d want to talk to him about. 

It doesn’t make any sense.

He’s drawn from his thoughts at the sound of something buzzing against the ground a few feet away, frowning as he looks around and spots your phone on the ground, probably lost in your drunken attempts to get to the couch. He hesitates before pushing himself off the arm of the couch, taking a few steps toward it before kneeling down to pick it up. 

He chews at the inside of his cheek as he stares down at the home screen of your phone, staring at Nakahara Chuuya’s name in the text notification. He knows that he shouldn’t go snooping. He knows it.

He does it anyway.

He spares one last glance up the stairs before unlocking your phone with the code he’s seen you put in hundreds of times by now, clicks on your message app and lets out a puff of air when he realizes that no, you hadn’t been lying. You have at least twenty unread message threads—Dazai’s is pinned at the top with Chuuya’s and someone called Mori, who you’ve never mentioned to him. There’s only one message thread you’ve evidently been reading the past few days considering there’s no dot next to it: Tolstoy, the last message being from a few hours ago.

He shouldn’t look. He knows he shouldn’t look.

He clicks on it anyway.

He bites down hard on his bottom lip as he scrolls to the top of the conversation—only a few message exchanges between the two of you, but they’re decently long.

Tolstoy: Do you still want Ilya? I can have him there by the end of next week, I just need him to finish up some business in Moscow first. You: Haven’t decided. You haven’t even given me the rundown on the side effects of his ability. I’m not going to use it if it’s going to fuck up his head—stop playing salesman and tell me what’s actually up with him. No ability comes without consequences. You know that. I know that. So stop fucking around. 

Dazai suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, vision tunneling on the ‘him’ you’re speaking of in the messages. A foreboding air settles over him, dark and oppressive, he has to physically force himself to keep reading.

Tolstoy: We don’t know of any side effects. Haven’t used it enough to figure it out.  You: So, you want me to use him as a lab rat? Be real, Tolstoy. Thought you had more respect for me than that. Tolstoy: I’m trying to help you. You want that kid’s memory wiped, I can have it done for you, it’s just a matter of how badly you want it done.

Dazai doesn’t read anymore than that. He drops your phone onto the couch, takes a step back, a step away. His mind spins, ears ringing as he stares down at—he doesn’t even know what he’s staring at. His vision is swimming and blurring—with tears, maybe? Or just from exhaustion? From panic? He can’t tell but he knows he’s not breathing properly and he knows he needs to leave, everything suddenly feels too suffocating, too enclosed. 

He stumbles over to the elevator, slapping the button and leaning against the wall as he waits for it to come up to your floor. It takes long—too long, each second that passes feels like an eternity and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

There’s only one “him” that your texts could be referring to. And it makes sense—it makes sense, doesn’t it? It makes sense why you’re so willing to divulge confidential information if you don’t intend for him to keep the knowledge of it. Makes sense why you’ve been notably careless with leaving files around your apartment. Makes sense why you told him about your ability. He’d thought you were finally letting him in, letting him know you, but-but of course, you weren’t. 

Of course, you weren’t. 

You were just…you were just trying to keep him placated, feed him bits of information to keep him happy because you knew you weren’t going to let him keep the knowledge of it. That you were gonna wipe his memory of it, of you, and send him back into that cold, dark void that’s been following him around his entire life and-

The bing of the elevator startles him, he flinches and still, he can’t breathe. His skin feels numb and prickly, his bandages are scratching uncomfortably at the scars hidden beneath them and he can hardly see straight.

Dazai needs to go.

He needs to go.

You wake up with a dry mouth, a pounding headache and an oddly foreboding feeling hanging about you. You push yourself into a sitting position, grimacing at the sun blinding you through the window—you don’t remember much of the night. You vaguely recall leaving the club last night with Albatross and Chuuya, the two of them incessantly bitching about dealing with you while you were drunk but in your defense, you think you deserved it after three days straight of meetings with the Shimazaki-kai on behalf of the Sun and Steel. 

Everything after leaving the club is a blur. You grimace as you push yourself out of bed, glancing around to see if you’d dropped your phone anywhere near the bed only to come up empty-handed. You don’t even bother to go to the bathroom and brush your teeth, anxious to find your phone and figure out what happened once you left the club.

You pray to god that it’s downstairs and you hadn’t left it at the club, making your way out of the bedroom with a sigh. You doubt Chuuya or Albatross would’ve been dumb enough to leave it there, but you’re pretty sure they were both drunk too and neither of them are functioning drunks.

You’re not even halfway through the door frame when pain shoots through your head, sharp and uncomfortable and then-

“It’s always what you want, Dazai.”

Suddenly, that foreboding feeling you awoke with makes sense. You stare ahead blankly as you remember who exactly was waiting for you at your apartment after you got back from the club. You remember the argument, you remember the crushed expression that crossed his face when you snapped at him, you remember pleading with him to stay or to at least let you take him out today and you remember him refusing, his voice pitched and cracking, wobbly, on the verge of collapse because-

Because of you. 

Fuck.

It’s with increasingly more urgency now that you rush yourself down the stairs, a small lingering hope remaining that maybe Dazai had stayed in one of the guest rooms or on the couch, that you could do something to fix this before it escalates even more. 

You don’t even know why you said that—it’s not like you mind giving Dazai what he wants, in fact, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You like seeing his face light up when you do nice things for him, you like when he tries to hide the way he gets all flustered, you like that he’s allowed himself to have hope with you—something he’s clearly denied himself for too long—and you what? 

You ruined it because you got scared? 

You ruined it because you didn’t want to talk about… whatever you have going on with him? 

You ruined it because you were terrified he was going to force you to come to terms with the fact that you’re using his stupid flash drive as an excuse to indulge yourself in him. That it would take minimal effort to have it destroyed but you’re putting it off because you want to be able to rationalize what you’re doing.

You feel sick to your stomach when you realize that your apartment is empty, eyes darting around to try to find your phone. You need to call him—he told you that he wanted to be alone today, or maybe he didn’t say exactly that but he implied it, but you need to at least talk to him now that you’re sober and can think straight. 

A distant part of you, a cold and logical part of you, tells you to just use this as the excuse to cut him off—you don’t need to get Ilya to fuck with his mind if he just hates you, you don’t want Ilya to fuck with Dazai’s mind. The thought of it makes your chest feel tight with guilt, so maybe you should take this opportunity for what it is, no matter how shitty it might make you feel, but-

But you won’t.

Finally spotting your phone on the couch, you snatch it up and unlock it, grimacing at the low battery percentage and then grimacing even more when there’s not a single message from Dazai lighting up your home screen. There’s seven from Chuuya, three from Albatross, and two from Mori, but you’re more concerned by the missed call from an unknown number and the unread voice message.

The foreboding feeling that has been looming only grows more intense when you click on the message for it to play out loud.

“This is Doctor Okamoto of Keiyu Hospital calling on behalf of a recently admitted patient… listed you as his emergency contact when he was brought in last night… unable to disclose any information regarding his injuries over the phone… suggest that you get here soon…”

At once, your vision tunnels and everything around you becomes white noise, your gaze is pinned on the ground, a smudge on the tiled floors as you try to keep yourself grounded because what? Dazai is in the-he’s in the hospital?

Because of you? 

You hadn’t been subtle approaching him that day in the library, it’s been a lingering thought since then, wondering if unsavory eyes had caught sight of you talking to him. The bar and the cafe were different, he had approached you—if any of your enemies had happened to see it, they wouldn’t think twice about it. But you approaching him had been dangerous. 

It had been a mistake.

Had it been a mistake to cost him his life?

And it’s not just that—you’ve taken him out to dinners. Picked him up at his apartment building. Places that you or your trusted affiliates own but there’s always the chance… and if he left the Port Mafia building last night in a rush, upset and not thinking straight…

Oh, you might throw up.

You’re not dressed properly. You’re still wearing your dress from last night and you fumble to put on the heels you must’ve kicked off in your drunken state. You don’t even care to get dressed, more intent on getting to the hospital and figuring out if—nausea builds in the back of your throat—if Dazai is alive, if he’s okay. You need to re-listen to the voicemail because your hearing had been unfocused and you’d only been able to catch bits and pieces of the doctor’s message.

And-

And you don’t even get into the elevator because your phone is ringing again as soon as you click the button. You don’t even look at the number before picking up, fearing that it’s the hospital again—it’s not, it’s Chuuya, and you immediately regret your decision because you aren’t even able to bark out a ‘what’ before he’s speaking.

“Where the hell have you been?” Chuuya snaps on the other side of the line. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours, we-”

“I’m busy,” you hiss right back, interrupting him. “I can’t talk-”

“You can talk,” Chuuya says harshly. “Get to headquarters. The Guild is in Yokohama now. We don’t have time to fuck around anymore.”

You don’t respond to Chuuya, heart sinking to your feet at his words, distress clawing at your chest so painfully that you think it might be easier if you just carve out your heart and toss it out the window. You hang up the phone without another word just as the elevator makes it to your floor, but instead of going inside, you make your way back up to your room, numbly changing into one of your suits so you could at least look somewhat presentable. 

You hardly even recognize yourself in the mirror as you wipe off your smudged makeup from your night out. Your eyes are vacant and your expression so empty that you think you could almost be looking at a statue. 

War with the Guild. Dazai in the hospital.

Everything is catching up to you at the same time and your mind is fraying at its seams, collapsing in on itself as the weight of everything bears down on you. You do your best to compartmentalize, focus on one thing at a time but you can’t even concentrate on one issue. 

You try to figure out what to do about the upcoming conflict, try to determine what exactly Fitzgerald might be planning so you can figure out what the Port Mafia will retaliate with, and your mind drifts to Dazai, you wonder if he’s okay, if he’s in critical condition, if it was one of your enemies that got to him or if it was something else.

You think about Dazai, all of the fear and guilt and anxiety tearing you apart, and your mind shoots straight to the Guild. Because if Fitzgerald knows about Dazai—if he knows about Dazai—then it’s over. It’s all over. If the Guild gets their hands on him, they’ll kill him when you don’t give them what they want because you can’t give them what they want. They want Yokohama and you can’t give them that. 

You can’t, not even for Dazai.

You don’t even register that you’re standing in front of the elevator again until it bings, startling you right out of your thoughts. You can’t leave the building while you’re spiraling like this—you need to get a grip on yourself, you don’t even know where you’re going yet. You need to figure out if you’re going to go meet with Mori and the other executives or if you’re going to go find Dazai. 

As you step into the elevator, it takes all but five seconds for you to make a decision.

Dazai wakes up to the familiar scent of antiseptic and a citrus-scented floor cleaning solution, the air is too stale and the air-conditioning is cranked up too high. He forces his eyes open, lids heavy and uncooperative, but he immediately lets them fall shut again briefly when he’s met with too white walls and the steady beeping of the heart monitor next to him.

His throat feels swollen as he stares up at the ceiling—the last time he was here in the hospital he was seventeen and had nearly bled out in the bathtub in Odasaku’s house. The only reason he hadn’t was because Ango happened to stop by the house to pick up papers that Odasaku had left for him, finding Dazai unconscious and face half-submerged in the water. He woke up here to find both of them hovering over him, Ango concerned and Odasaku visibly upset for the first time since Dazai met him.

He wakes up alone now because Odasaku is dead and he hasn’t spoken to Ango in four years—doesn’t even know where the man is anymore, doesn’t even know if he’s alive, doesn’t want to know either.

“Dazai-sama.” He hears a nurse say from the door to his room. “You’re awake, how are you…”

The nurse’s voice becomes white noise with the beeping of the heart monitor and the vents blowing above. Dazai retreats back into his own mind—a dangerous place, but right now it’s safer than the white walls that surround him, knowing he’s going to be badgered with questions that he doesn’t want to have to answer. 

How are you feeling, Dazai-sama? 

What happened, Dazai-sama? 

We need to ask you a few questions, Dazai-sama.

Dazai feels defeated.

His head falls to the side as he stares out the nearby window, watching as a bird swoops down in view before taking off into the sky.

He doesn’t even remember what happened. He remembers leaving your apartment, he remembers… he remembers seeing your texts, your plans to wipe his memory. And… that’s about it? He vaguely remembers the familiar feeling of his lungs burning, remembers being tossed around by the rough currents of Tsurumi River. He doesn’t remember how he got there but it’s not exactly hard for him to piece together—even now, Dazai thinks he would rather be dead than have his memories forcibly erased.

“… to know what exactly hap…”

A dark and familiar cloud settles over him. His eyes feel heavy and his chest hurts. Dazai—he doesn’t even know what to think anymore. He’s so tired that his bones ache and his muscles feel so weak that he just sinks into the stiff mattress of the hospital bed.

He doesn’t know what he expected—he thinks that to some extent he expected you to leave him. Everyone has left him. His mother, his aunt, all of the brief friends he’d made over the years before they see him for what he is, Odasaku and Ango—everyone has left him, so he knew that you would too but… in this manner? Using an ability to wipe his memory of you?

Dazai has considered it before. He’s wondered if maybe his life would be easier if he could just… forget. If he could live without the memory of everyone who has left him hanging over him. Some days, on really bad days, he thinks it might be easier. To try to make himself feel better, he thinks that maybe he isn’t the issue, maybe it’s all just a self-fulfilling prophecy, that it’s his past experiences cursing him to make the same mistakes over and over again; that without them, he might stand a chance.

But then when he thinks about it—when he really thinks about it—he knows in his heart that it’s not true, and he knows that without the memory of them all, Dazai will only feel more empty. And to think that you were trying to take his memories of you from him… without even asking, without giving him a choice in the matter… it almost makes Dazai-

“Dazai.”

His gaze snaps to the side when he hears your familiar voice come from the door leading into his room. Instantly, he’s shaking his head and looking away again, he can’t even bear to look at you but you’re walking over to him, you’re coming to his bedside, you’re sitting next to him on the hospital bed and you’re reaching out to cup his cheek, forcibly turning his face to make him look at you. You look worried, something sharp and concerned in your eyes that makes his throat swell and he wants to spit at you and call you a liar but he can only sink into your touch.

“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice is hoarse, almost painful for him to use. 

“What happened?” you ask him quietly instead of answering his question—you never answer his questions, you always deflect, always maneuver around them. The ones you do answer, it’s only because you plan to- “Dazai, what happened? Are you okay?”

Dazai doesn’t know how you can look at him like this all the while planning the most diabolical betrayal that he could ever imagine. You’re either an actress deserving of international recognition or… or Dazai doesn’t even know.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice clipped. “Why are you here?”

“The hospital called me-”

“But why are you here?” Dazai cuts you off, grateful that his voice is firmer than the turmoil wreaking havoc through him. He must’ve given them your number while he was half-delirious when he was brought in—he figured that out already—but that doesn’t explain why you actually came. “Why did you come?”

“Because you’re hurt,” you say as if Dazai should believe you. 

And he wants to believe you. Wants to believe that you’d come running just at the mere idea of him being hurt, wants to believe that you would care enough to come for him. He wants to believe you so bad, but he knows what he saw. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Dazai tells you, finally gathering the willpower to pull his face away from where it’s resting in the palm of your hand. You don’t even let him shift away, hand slipping behind him to cradle the back of his head, fingers entwined with his hair. “Stop.”

“I’m not lying to you,” you say like a liar. “Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

You sigh heavily and Dazai hates the way you’re absently drawing circles against the nape of his neck with your thumb, hates how it makes him feel at ease and especially hates the way his lashes instinctually flutter shut.

“I didn’t mean what I said last night, Dazai,” you say so quietly that Dazai almost believes you. Almost. “I was drunk, I didn’t… I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t care about that,” Dazai says, proud of the way his voice stays sharp and cold. “I saw the messages between you and Tolstoy. I know what you’re planning. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t even want to look at you, just leave me alone.”

You draw back at his words, concerned expression melting into a blank slate as you pull your hand away to sit back straight. Dazai misses your touch instantly, longs for the warmth to return but he forces himself to ignore it all, keeping his gaze pinned on you, watching the way your mind races behind your eyes. He wonders if you’re trying to figure out if you can salvage this, wonders if you’re going to lie.

Instead, a heavy look settles over your face as you frown, glancing back at the way you came and for a moment, Dazai thinks you’re just going to leave. You rise to your feet and words lodge in the back of his throat, preparing to spit insults at you: he wants to call you a coward, a liar, wants to tell you that you’re cruel and vile and he can hardly even stand to look at you.

But then you look back at him and hold out your hand to him. “Come on,” you tell him. “Let’s sneak you out of here… I’ll explain everything when we get out of the hospital.”

Dazai wants to be spiteful, wants to turn his head away and ignore you, wants to slap your hand and tell you that there’s no explaining what he saw.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he places his hand in yours and lets that treacherous, treacherous spec of hope bloom in his chest again.

Dazai hasn’t spoken a word since leaving the hospital. You’ve tried to make small talk with him, but every time, he just turns his head away to look out the window. You gave up twenty minutes ago and Dazai is already regretting not indulging conversation with you because the silence is agonizing. He knows he should break it, but he doesn't know how to now. 

He glances at you from the corner of your eye. You’re leaning back against your seat, one hand on the steering wheel—he can’t see your eyes because they’re masked by sunglasses, but he can see the way your free hand rests on the gear stick, knuckles tense.

“What is this place?” Dazai clears his throat as he leans forward in his seat, peering out the windshield of your car to try to figure out where you’re taking him. He forces his tone to lighten, the smile on his lips strained. “Are you kidnapping me? Oh! Or are you taking me to some remote cabin to kill me? Bella, you truly know the way to a man’s heart.”

You let out a heavy sigh, one that makes Dazai toss a sweet smile in your direction. 

Some type of beach house, he recognizes as you pull up a windy road to the top of a cliff looking over the water. He can see to his left a path leading down to the water and to his right a nice view of a distant pier. It’s not a large house, but it’s nice—well-kept and refurbished with a view over Sagami Bay. It’s not too far out from Yokohama, probably only a little over an hour, but considering Dazai’s never left the city in his entire life, this might be the furthest he’s ever been. He can almost feel a bit of excitement bubbling in his chest. 

“I wanted to take you here, away from the city for a bit,” you finally say, fingers thrumming against the wheel of the car as you slowly guide the car up the gravel path. “So we can talk in peace.”

Your bland words whittle away his excitement and Dazai’s smile falters. He tries to distract himself with counting the strands hanging off the sleeve of his sweater but keeps losing count.

“Something you couldn’t have talked to me about in Yokohama?” Dazai asks airly as you pull to a stop in front of the beach house. 

He doesn’t turn to look at you, doesn’t move until you finally get out of the car, reaching into the back seat to grab two duffle bags, nodding for him to follow you.

Wow, he thinks dryly, you came prepared.

Dazai feels distinctly like he’s walking to his execution as he follows you to the steps leading up to the house, but instead of walking up them, you toss the bags on the porch and then continue up the path.

You’re going to push him off a cliff, Dazai thinks, feet dragging against the gravel as he follows you. This is it, all of the years that he’s longed for death and it’s finally about to find him at your hands. 

“I might not die from the fall,” Dazai says, words drawn long as he pouts. “You wouldn’t really leave me to suffer in freezing water, would you?”

“No,” you say, glancing back at him. He lets out a quiet breath of relief that’s quickly snuffed out when you add, “I’m not that sloppy with my kills. I’d kill you before dumping your body over the side of the cliff.”

Dazai blanches, but your lips curl up into an amused smile so he settles down, sighing as he purposely knocks his shoulder with yours.

“My bella is so cruel,” he sighs dramatically. “She hates me.”

You sigh as you reach the edge of the cliff, not turning to look at him. The wind whips around the two of you—it’s a cool, early spring night, the temperature just enough to be uncomfortable but you don’t seem bothered by it as you stare out across the water as the sun starts to set.

You’re beautiful, Dazai thinks, breath catching at the sight of you beneath the setting sun. The golden rays cast an ethereal glow over you, the wind ruffles your clothes and hair, and your expression is solemn in a way that’s become terribly familiar the past few weeks.

“I’m not going to do anything with the video,” Dazai finally says, voice quiet—finally taking the chance to say what he wanted to say last night. “You don’t have to keep… pandering to me because you’re trying to protect yourself. I was never going to do anything with it, I just… wanted you to give me a chance.”

When you look over your shoulder, you give Dazai a small, genuine smile that makes all of the air whoosh from his lungs. 

“Dazai, I’ve known you weren’t going to do anything with that video since day one,” you say, amused. “If I thought you were, I would’ve had someone confiscate it from your apartment.”

Dazai’s lips part, mind racing. “But then why-”

Your smile softens at the edges and you sigh as you lower yourself down to the ground, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Dazai joins you, thigh brushing yours and shoulders absently knocking together. Your hands rest in your lap and Dazai’s fingers twitch to reach for yours. He only hardly refrains himself.

“I don’t remember a life before this,” you say after a few moments, a distant look in your eyes as you stare ahead. “When I was seven… eight, maybe, I was pulled out of a warzone by the current leader of the Mafia. I don’t even remember my parents—anything about them. Their names. Faces. What they sounded like, what their job was. Mori… he found me in my town sitting in the middle of a whole pile of bodies and I couldn’t even point out which pair of corpses were my parents. I don’t remember anything before him… It’s all just black. Blurred.”

Dazai stares at you, eyes a bit wide as he listens to you speak. His lips part to say something but he decides against it, instead he seals his lips back shut and presses his shoulder against yours. Mori—that was the other name pinned up with Dazai’s message thread and Nakahara Chuuya’s—he must be the Port Mafia boss. His gaze traces your face as you stare ahead, catching the melancholic expression on your face. He itches to reach for your hand.

“I could hardly remember anything about myself. My first name… that’s just about it. My new birthday became the day Mori found me, my new surname—when needed—was his, he… he became my reason to live when I had none. Gave me a purpose,” you tell him faintly. “I spent two years on a warfront trying to figure out what my ability was so I could be the finishing touches of the immortal regiment that he was trying to create. As far as I remember, all I’ve known is… this. Him.”

Dazai wants to say something but every word he tries to push out dies on his tongue. Instead, he finally does reach out to grab your hand, fingers curling around yours tightly. You look down briefly, an unreadable expression on your face before it softens and… and for a split second, Dazai can see you, he can see you: not a hardened executive of a mafia, but an eight-year-old girl, lost and confused and landing in the arms of the wrong man, and it makes him sick.

The traitorous part of him wonders if you’re only telling him this because you still plan on following through with the memory wipe, so Dazai does what he always does when someone threatens to take one of the few things he wants—he digs his claws in and doesn’t let go. 

“The war ended before I could figure out how to use my ability and I followed… him to the underground. We ended up with the Port Mafia while the previous boss and his family were still leading. He was…” You trail off, frowning. “Dangerous. Yokohama was a terrible place under his leadership. He slaughtered civilians who spoke poorly about him and the Mafia, killed his own men for looking at him wrong… Mori became his doctor and for the good of the city, he decided to kill him.”

“I remember the old boss—what he did to the city,” Dazai says quietly—how could he not? His aunt was terrified of being in Yokohama because of him, was constantly talking about leaving the city… she finally did after dumping Dazai off in Suribachi and leaving him to fend for himself against the wolves. “It was bad.”

“It was,” you agree absently. “Mori—he wanted it to be as bloodless as possible. He tried every route, but the only way for it to be bloodless was if he had someone to corroborate that the previous boss died in his sleep and left the Port Mafia to him.”

Dazai almost scoffs.

“No one would believe that.”

“We’d hoped maybe one of his grandchildren would step up. Even if it was clearly a lie, people would have to listen because they were his blood,” you say with a wry smile. “They didn’t.”

“So, what happened then?” he presses when you don’t immediately continue. He frowns when he catches the sudden change in your demeanor, like you’re sick to your stomach, unable to push out the next words. He feels a bit dreadful, squeezing your hand gently. 

“We had to wipe out the whole family,” you whisper, looking down at your lap, “and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s granddaughter—she was asleep, had a bear tucked in her arm and a nightlight on the right side of her bed. I slit her throat, then both of her older brothers. They were kids.”

Oh.

Dazai’s throat spasm as he swallows, the picture forming in his head cold and chilling, but instead he forces out:

“You were a kid too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Hadn’t been for a long time,” you say, voice flat, leaving no room for argument. “We hunted down the whole bloodline, immediate to extended family. Mori was insistent on it, said we couldn’t risk one of them ever returning and upending everything we’ve built. He’s still searching for some to this day just to make sure.”

That’s… foreboding to say the least. Dazai watches you carefully, the grim expression on your face and the frown on your lips. He pulls your hand into his lap, tracing your fingers gently to try to ease you and he watches from the corner of his eye as your expression softens again when you look at him. It makes his chest feel tight and fluttery.

“I was sixteen when I met Itou.” The cold expression on your face warms at the unfamiliar name. Dazai watches as the corner of your lips curve up into a fond smile, as if you’re reminiscing. “He was seventeen. We were partnered up for years. This was his beach house—or, well, I don’t know whose it was but Itou took it. He was awful, honestly. A terrible fucking person, had more blood on his hands than any other member of the Mafia, found way too much joy in tormenting people. He was awful, but he was the closest thing I had to family. He tried to show me a world beyond just… bloodshed and violence. Took me to amusement parks on days off, snuck me onto school trips with random groups of kids and told me to ‘blend in’ as training for infiltration missions, showed me how to live, not just… survive. He died on a mission a few weeks after I turned eighteen, made me promise him that I wouldn’t go back to how I used to be without him, that I’d at least try to be happy.”

Double oh.

Dazai almost does throw up now, mind drawing back to a face that has been haunting Dazai for four years now, Odasaku’s last words ring through his head painfully—a reminder of his own inadequacy, of his failure to fulfill his friend’s dying wish.

He remembers the way your face shifted when he told you about Odasaku at Kido’s Boutique and he wonders if he’d reminded you of Itou back then when he spoke of the man and his promise, just like how he was reminded now. His grip on your hand tightens unintentionally—as if you can sense his thoughts, you squeeze his fingers gently. 

“I didn’t,” you say with a tight smile. “Threw myself into work, accepted that my fate was to live, breathe and die for the Port Mafia. I didn’t see the point of anything—well, not until I met you, at least.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker up to you, breath catching when you meet his gaze this time. And god, you look beautiful—so beautiful that Dazai thinks that if he dies now, he could die happy. He almost wishes that he could die now, fall off the side of the cliff with the image of you burned behind his eyelids. It would be a better death than he deserved.

“You made me happy. Make me happy,,” you tell him quietly and Dazai’s heart leaps into his throat. “So effortlessly that I can’t even understand how you do it, but it’s impossible for me to justify dragging you into this world just because I’m selfish.” Dazai parts his lips to disagree but you don’t even give him a chance to speak. “So when you came to me with your stupid blackmail, it was so… easy to just use it as an excuse for me to indulge in you.”

Dazai doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t get it. You’re sitting here talking to him, explaining everything, and Dazai still doesn’t understand. He makes you happy—he makes you happy and you make him happy, there doesn’t need to be any more complications than that. You don’t have to push him away, you don’t have to cut him off, you don’t have to use that memory wiping ability on him.

“I don’t understand,” Dazai says, voice hoarse. “You make me happy too, so why is…”

“Because Chuuya is right,” you say with a smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “The risks… Dazai, you can’t ask me to put you in danger like this. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair to cut me off because you’re scared,” Dazai counters, voice a bit pitched. “It’s not fair that you want to wipe my memory without my consent. I don’t care about danger, I don’t-”

You look at him sharply, an intense expression on your face that makes Dazai hesitate.

“I never would have done it without talking to you first,” you say tightly. “Do you really think that little of me?”

Dazai looks away, not answering the question. “I never would have agreed to it,” he replies, voice equally tight as yours. “Never. It’d be a waste of your time.”

You sigh and Dazai feels you shift next to him but he pointedly keeps his gaze trained ahead, refusing to look at you. He feels your fingers brush his cheek before the pressure becomes a bit firmer as you turn his face so that he’s looking at you. You’re so close that his nose brushes yours, the pads of your fingers are warm against his skin; if he leans in just a bit, he’d be able to kiss you.

He wants to kiss you.

“You don’t know what’s at stake,” you say softly, breath fanning across his lips as you speak. He can almost taste the mixture of mint and nicotine on your lips—you smoke when you’re nervous, he’s noticed it over the past few weeks with you. The more nervous you are, the more cigarettes you run through; he wonders how many cigarettes you’ve gone through since you’ve gotten the call from the hospital. “The danger-”

“You want me,” Dazai whispers, squeezing your hand, leaning in a bit more. “No one has ever wanted me before. Not like this. Not for me. You want me.”

The last sentence—it doesn’t come out as a statement, it comes out as a plea. He wants you to say it. You didn’t the last time, but he needs to hear it now. Desperately. His nails dig into your hands, he doesn’t even dare to breathe as he waits for you to speak.

“I want you,” you agree, voice so quiet like you don’t even dare to speak the words out loud in fear of the consequences of them. “I want you. I want you so bad that it scares me, Dazai Osamu.”

And Dazai breathes. The breath he lets out is long and shaky, the relief that sweeps over him is almost debilitating. He searches your eyes to make sure you mean it and when he only finds honesty and a type of fear that he’s never seen in you before, Dazai knows.

“You think it doesn’t scare me?” Dazai asks you, voice cracking. “Everything I ever come to want is always lost. Ever since that first day we met, I-I knew that I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted before and I’ve been terrified that one day you’ll leave me. Promise me that you won’t. Promise me.”

You stare at him and for a terrible moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to shake your head and say you can’t, but then you swallow, nod and say, “I promise.”

Dazai kisses you. And then he kisses you again. And again. And again. Until his lungs burn and he can feel your lips curve up against his and even then, he kisses you still. Kisses you as the sun sets over the bay and the moon rises above the mountains. Kisses you until the wind becomes too bitter for the two of you to stay outside and still, he smiles as he peppers kisses across your face, walking back down the path to the beach house.

He ignores how your phone has been buzzing incessantly all night, praying for at least one day of peace before reality slaps the two of you in the face again.

[speakergame]

Progress Update - 3/4/24

Hello and happy March!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!

I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.

I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞

I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.

Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙

(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)

I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 

To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.

So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.

Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 

Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 

All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.

This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 

These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.

I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.

Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.

[periwinkla]

Narumitsu/AA fic rec list No.1

---- Multi-chapter ----

pressure (pushing down on me) ApprenticeofDoyle | @apprenticeofdoyle https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440966/chapters/69694179

miles edgeworth's terrible, no-good, very bad week ApprenticeofDoyle | @apprenticeofdoyle https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390913/chapters/72203136 (this one isn't completed but please listen to my advice: a fic does not need to be completed to be enjoyable and/or give you necessary feelings) This author writes so beautifully, go read both!!! The first one has such cute and emotional moments and there's a scene in particular I will cherish most dearly for all of eternity. The second one follows as the title says Miles's most terrible misfortunes (aka AAI), so enjoy his very well written struggles.

The Miraculous Disappearance Of Phoenix Wright JJsADragon | @4ragon https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341994 This is Phoenix-centric, narumitsu is background - it's so beautiful and it's full of Phoenix drama and... hear me out... Godot!!! But, being serious here. This one really struck me. I don't know, I don't quite have the words to explain. You need to experience it yourself. But I can say that it made me rethink my whole perception of Phoenix's character. Vacation All I Ever Wanted JJsADragon | @4ragon https://archiveofourown.org/works/25088599/chapters/60774496 Same author as previous one and what can I say? It's gorgeous go read it. Also side note I actually laughed out loud at very very frequent intervals.

Saturation (ongoing) TiedyedTrickster | @greentrickster https://archiveofourown.org/works/20272603/chapters/48054286 Already talked about this previously....: It's a Miles-POV fic, sweet & cute, emotional, with an amazing sense of humor. The character relationships are chef's kiss. Absolutely brilliant all around.

The Things We Agree to Believe are True actual_goblin | @metaphorical-goblin https://archiveofourown.org/works/42658245/chapters/107157108 I think this is the kind of thing you need to read without any explaination whatsoever. It's just... an adventure, I would call it, and very very beautiful, so just jump in. There is one thing I can say though. If you like character exploration, to a degree that is frankly out of this universe, GO.

Kindred timepatches | @monimolimnion  https://archiveofourown.org/works/28852137/chapters/70772769 It's about Miles adopting Pess! And it makes him realize a few things. It's so so very heartwaming. Set during the 7y gap. I think whatever I say might spoil it so I'll just describe how it made me feel! Fuzzy. Warm. Sappy. Cozy like wrapped in a blanket in winter with a nice cup of cocoa in hand. ---- One-shots ----

pressed beneath the burden of proof harmony | @harmonization https://archiveofourown.org/works/57174151 So very very very well written - I love how the author describes thoughts and emotions... it felt like I was feeling them myself.

Trials, Texts, and Tribulations bluemoodblue | @blue-mood-blue https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590601 Just very very sweet and with such nice subtlety it made me scream internally-- I love subtle things.

A Boy at the Airport KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS) | @krisseycrystal https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741124 Kid Apollo + Wrightworth. cute too cute too extremely cute family feelings overload ---- my heart is flying away...

Code to My Heart SnowOnVenus | @legayllyblonde https://archiveofourown.org/works/57499360 Incredibly beautiful and the drawings made to accompany it are absolutely charming and so fitting to the story... I especially love how Edgeworth's character was explored here. This will forever be inprinted in my heart.

To be honest there are so many more so I will probably make more lists in the future, as I also need to reread things (I have terrible, terrible memory)... hence the '1' on the title.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Elementary, Chapter Two

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x teacher!reader

chapter rating: M (no explicit smut but my blog is always 18+ ONLY, just one steamy makeout but the smut show begins next chapter so strap in 😎 as always, i cannot force myself to reread my own writing so this isn’t proofread)

word count: 4.9k

series masterlist | joel masterlist | joel playlist

It was Saturday afternoon, your book club meeting nearly wrapped for the day. You were delighted to see Sarah’s face, half-expecting both her and her father to forget about the meeting, but she was one of the first ones here.

Joel greeted you with a shy wave and a smile as he walked her into the small room in the corner of the library, his grey t-shirt and jeans fitting him far too well.

“Mornin’,” he greeted, both of your eyes trailing away to watch Sarah make a bee-line for the snack table. “That’s my fault, I forgot to make a grocery run.”

“That’s what they’re there for,” you waved off his worry and fixed your eyes on his again.

“I, uh, tried to keep up,” he held up his copy of Sense and Sensibility, surprising you with how far into the book his bookmark rested, not quite where the rest of you were but not too far off. “I don’t know about that Willoughby guy…somethin’ seems off.”

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled, shifting your weight onto one hip and crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly waited his assessment. Joel cracked a charming half smirk and nodded confidently.

“Yeah. No man is that perfect.” You snorted a laugh and eagerly agreed. “So I got it, then? He’s a bad guy?”

“No comment,” you replied with an untamable grin, something about his presence filling you with a girlish giddiness you hadn’t felt in years.

“Sarah!” Sarah’s new friend, Jessie, squealed when she entered the classroom and spotted her, causing both you and Joel to look over with proud smiles.

“This was a good idea,” Joel turned back to you. “Hadn’t realized how sheltered she was. It’s nice to see her have a friend.”

“We all deserve friends,” you noted.

“You know, if you ever need a friend…I’m right here,” he offered with a shrug, busying his eyes by looking down at the book he was holding.

“Would Sarah be okay with her dad and teacher being friends?” you asked, Sarah’s well-being your ultimate responsibility and priority over whatever you happened to be feeling for her father.

“Yeah, we, uh, talked about it…I may have made a comment about how pretty you are,” he chuckled in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “And she’s been teasin’ me about it since.”

“Pretty, huh?” you smirked and relished in the blush you brought to his face, his eyes rolling as a husky chuckle slipped from his lips. “Well, Joel, if I ever need a friend, how can I go about getting in touch with you?”

“Right,” he nodded, frantically reaching into his pocket to pull out his flip phone, your lip caught between your teeth as you watched him struggle to find his phone number—of course he didn’t know it by heart. “Alright, you ready?”

You clicked your pen and pulled out your post-it note/bookmark, jotting down his number as he read it out to you.

“Are we gonna start or what?” Harriet snapped from her wheelchair, making both you and Joel laugh.

“I’ll be back to pick Sarah up at eleven,” he tapped his book with yours before walking out of the room, only stopping to place a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before disappearing, leaving your heart longing for more.

Taking a deep, necessary breath, you turned to the group and smiled. “Alright, how far did everybody get this week?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at your phone so goddamn much since you got the damn thing,” Tommy teased his older brother as they walked around their favorite H-E-B supermarket, Joel determined to surprise Sarah with a fully stocked fridge and pantry for once.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled as he swore he felt a buzz in his pocket, tugging his flip phone out for the twentieth time since stepping inside the store, hoping to see a message or an incoming call from you.

“That the plummer for the project on 15th Street?” Tommy asked as he loaded a case of Gatorade into the bottom of the cart.

“No, it’s, uh—“ Joel was nervous, having gone so long without having a romantic life that he started to feel like a teenager again, too embarrassed by the weight of his crush to tell anybody. “Sarah’s at her book club so I’m just makin’ sure I don’t miss her call if she needs me to pick her up early.”

“And her ‘pretty’ teacher ain’t got nothin’ to do with that?” Tommy teased with a grin, amused by the look of betrayal and embarrassment on his older brother’s face.

“Sarah told ya, huh?”

“Yep,” Tommy laughed and took over pushing the cart. “You ask her out yet?”

“Not yet,” Joel sighed, the idea of going on a first date at his stage in life seeming ridiculous. What would they even do? Go to a movie? Go out to dinner? It all seemed too…cliche. “What do people even do for dates anymore?”

“Take her to Lady Bird Lake or a museum or somethin’. She’s a teacher, she’ll be into all that,” Tommy suggested. Joel nodded at the advice, making a mental note of it before being interrupted by the first actual ring of his phone all morning.

“Hello?” Joel answered the unsaved number with a hopeful heart.

“Joel?” your voice responded, bringing a smile to his face.

“Hey,” he greeted, sounding more like himself. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chirped, but he could tell there was something you were holding back.

“Sarah’s okay, right?”

“Yes! Sarah’s alright, she’s waiting here with me—“Joel heard his daughter greet him in the background. “The meeting ended a bit early, and I was trying to start my car, but it looks like I have a dead battery. Is there anyway I could get a jumpstart?”

“Oh—yeah,” he mouthed to Tommy that they needed to go checkout, Tommy pushing the cart towards the registers without needing any further instruction. “We’re just checkin’ out at H-E-B, but I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“Sounds good, thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief.

“No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for,” he hoped his attempt at playfulness didn’t fall flat, and judging by your chuckle, it hadn’t.

“That and lots of other things.” Joel’s heart sped up as he contemplated the other things. “See ya in a bit.”

“So,” Sarah started as she sat beside you in your well-used Ford Focus, the two of you reading as you waited for Joel to arrive. “You married?”

You laughed at her bluntness, looking over at her only to see her deadpanning. “No, I’m not married. Not anything.”

“Why not?” You laughed again, this time incredulously.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” She didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, making you shrug and giggle again as you tossed your hands up. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the men I go after.”

“Like my dad?” You blushed and turned back to your book, finally pulling a laugh from the girl much wider than her years. “I think it would be cool if you two started to go out.”

“What makes you think we want to go out?” you challenged with a smirk, trying and failing to erase it from your face.

“I haven’t seen my dad try this hard since…well, ever,” she chuckled. “And both of you always have this stupid smile on your face after you see eachother. I’d say that’s a pretty big tell.”

“You’re too observant for your own good,” you noted as you felt your cheeks creep with heat, embarrassed that she’d caught you.

A few quick honks cut off the conversation, both of you stepping out of the hot car to greet Joel as he and another man pulled up in front of where you were parked. Joel climbed out of the passenger seat with a smile, striding over to both of you with two water bottles in hand, giving you each one.

“Drink up, it’s hot as hell today,” he commanded and both of you obeyed.

“Hey,” his companion stepped out of the drivers side and joined the three of you, giving you a nod. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” you held your hand out for him to shake and he grinned mischievously.

“Likewise.” Your cheeks heated again despite the cold water bottle cooling you down.

“Mind if I pop the hood?” Joel pointed at your car, your head eagerly nodding in response. You watched him closely as he walked over to the drivers side, bending down to find the hood release. His shirt stretched over the broadness of his back, a line of sweat darkening the gray fabric down his spine. With a sudden thirst, you took a healthy chug of your water, hoping it would soothe the fire burning inside of you.

“Thank you guys,” you started as you turned to Tommy, needing to distract yourself from Joel.

“It’s no problem,” Tommy assured, his arm draped around Sarah’s shoulder. “How was, uh, book club?”

“Oh!” Sarah chimed, earning a furrowed brow look from her father as he walked over to the bed of the truck to grab some jumper cables. “Can I go over to Jessie’s house tonight? She’s having a sleepover—“

“I don’t know,” Joel exhaled as he returned. “I need to talk to her parents first.”

“I have their number,” you offered, pulling your phone out of your purse. “If you want it.”

“Sure,” he gave you a tired smile and trailed his eyes over your form properly for the first time since he arrived. Your hair that was once freely falling had now been put up, the sweat on the back of your neck causing your hair to stick to your skin in a way that bugged you. Your makeup was probably well into oily territory, your mascara smudged the last time you checked it in the car’s rearview mirror. The only thing half-presentable about you was the sundress you were wearing, it’s floral, cotton fabric flowing in the warm April breeze. “Uh,” he caught himself staring and quickly turned his gaze back to his daughter as he fished out his cellphone. “Here—you can type it in.”

After giving Sarah the phone number, she and Tommy retired back to the cool a/c in his truck, leaving you and Joel alone. An irresponsible thing for the two of you to be.

“Care to show me how it’s done,” you asked, unable to stop yourself from wanting more from him—more attention, more of his voice, more…everything. Being around him made you feel like you were burning alive, and yet strangely enough, the only time relief came to you was when you got closer to him.

“No one ever taught you how to jumpstart a car?” he teased with a smile, glancing over at you as he clamped the metal prongs onto the negative and positive sides.

“Not really,” you chuckled, pointing at the opposite colors. “So black goes on negative and red goes on positive?”

“Yep,” he nodded before pointing at the inside of the car. “Go on and try to start it up.”

“Just start it?” you asked, worried about messing up.

“Yep, like you normally do,” he encouraged you with a smile, watching you as you sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. Both of you gasped at the sight and sound of your battery sparking and then smoking. “Shit.” He walked over to the now ruined battery and investigated as you came out to join him. “Wasn’t your fault, my cords must be fucked or somethin’. I’m sorry—just ruined your battery.” He sighed and gave you an apologetic look, but you were quick to brush it off.

“Don’t worry about it,” you placed your hand on his arm and watched as his head turned to look at the contact before locking his eyes with yours. You fought the urge to worship his biceps like your celibate and cavewoman-like hormones were urging you to and pulled your hand away. “I’ll just call a tow truck and have them tow me to an auto-shop.”

“They’ll take you for all you got.” He shook his head and gestured back at the truck. “We can take ya to go get a new battery for almost free.”

“Almost?” you chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the only payment I ask for is maybe…a date?” He gave you a bashful but hopeful smile as he tucked his hands in his front pockets. “Maybe tonight?”

You stared at him with a widening grin, pleasantly surprised by his proposition. You hadn’t thought he’d make the first move, at least not this soon. Throwing caution to the wind, you nodded, your stomach fluttering as you watched him sigh in relief.

“Alright, well, let’s work on gettin’ you a new battery and go from there.” Joel waited for you as you locked your car up and joined him again, following him over to the backseat of his truck. He opened the door for you, giving you that warm smile that was beginning to feel like a drug as you climbed in beside Sarah.

Joel remained outside as he unhooked the cables from their working battery to your dead one, shutting the hood of the truck with a firm slam. He ungracefully hopped into the passenger seat, looking over at his brother.

“Take us down to the Autozone,” he ordered, Tommy glancing back at you with a raised brow and smile as he waited for his brother to use his manners. Joel sighed, “Please.”

“That’s better.”

It took under an hour to go get your new battery, bring it back to your car, and have Joel install it. As he bid you goodbye, he let you know he’d give you a call once he figures out a time for your date tonight, and you couldn’t help but beam with excitement.

The entire rest of the afternoon was spent going through your closet, taking the longest shower of your life, and fussing with your hair, wanting to be ready if Joel chose to be last minute with your plans—which normally would thoroughly turn you off, but you were weak when it came to Joel.

Thankfully, Joel called at three, asking if you’d like to join him for a walk at Lady Bird Lake. You eagerly accepted the offer, mildly surprised by the unconventional choice in date but not disappointed with it.

As you sat in the living room, you heard a car approach your house and moved to peek through your window, the same dark pick-up truck from earlier rolling into your driveway. You grinned as you watched him hop out of the drivers seat, dressed in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He looked so masculine and broad, but there was something in the warmth of his smile, the deepness of his eyes, that showed he was soft, too.

Quickly heading to your front door, you opened it before he could knock, his look of surprise when you swung the door open turning into a smile as he took you in—a sage green wrap dress that fell between your ankles and knees, your makeup soft and complimentary, your smile knee-weakening.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented softly, as though you weren’t meant to hear it. “Uh, got these for you.”

Joel handed you a bouquet of yellow daisies and you gave him a touched frown, kissing your teeth as you pressed the petals to your nose.

“This is very sweet,” you gave him a smitten grin and gestured back into your house. “Let me just go put these in some water. You’re welcome to come in.”

“Alright,” he followed you into your house and down the hall to your kitchen, his eyes scanning the scene as though your home would reveal some hidden secret about you. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” you replied as you filled a vase with water at the sink. “I found it for a really good price last summer, and now the owner’s gonna sell it to me.”

“Take it you like Austin then. You from around here?” He asked, leaning his hip against the counter.

“Nope,” you continued to tell him where you were from. “But I do love it here. Besides, I’m getting older. Seems like a good investment.”

“Old,” he repeated with a smirk. “You ain’t nowhere near old. Me on the other hand—“

“You’re what, mid-thirties?”

“33,” he corrected. “But my body is pushin’ seventy.”

“You haven’t heard the way my bones crack when I get up every morning,” you joked, earning a laugh.

“We’ll just have to be gentle with each other, then,” Joel quipped, not taking much time to think before he spoke. He internally cringed at the way you looked away and chuckled awkwardly, scolding himself for his stupid joke.

“Hopefully not too gently.” You shot him a wink and every worry of his faded into oblivion. “Alright, then, shall we?”

“Yeah,” Joel swallowed his desire and walked you out to the truck, helping you into your side before seating himself. “You ever been to the lake?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “Is it pretty out there?”

“It’s pretty, but you’re gonna give it a run for it’s money in that dress,” he flirted, shooting you a glance and a peek at the smile he was wearing proudly. Your cheeks turned hot at his compliment and you rolled your eyes, grinning like a lovesick teenager.

“You’re a flirt,” you pointed out.

“Me?” He laughed. “I haven’t flirted in…shit, I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“Well, you’re a natural, then,” you nudged his arm with your elbow and felt dizzy by the sparks shooting through your nerves by the simple contact.

“Sarah gave me a run down of things I should and shouldn’t do tonight,” he filled you in.

“Oh yeah? What are the do’s?” you implored with an amused smile, watching his profile as he drove.

“Pay, open doors, and ask questions,” he replied.

“And dont’s?” Joel chuckled and shook his head.

“She said I’m not supposed to kiss you until the second date.” You scoffed and waved that thought away. “You disagree?”

“Strongly,” you answered him with a laugh, Joel laughing along with you.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, then.” He shot you a wink and you felt like your heart was being shocked back to life. “I haven’t been on a date in so long. You gotta let me know if I’m fuckin’ this up.”

“You’re doing just fine, trust me,” you assured. “I can’t tell you the amount of shitty dates I’ve gone on, so the bar isn’t very high for you tonight.”

“Well, that’s sad,” he chuckled and shot you a lingering look as he stopped at a red light. “Hopefully I can break this streak of shitty dates.”

“I think you’ve already done it,” you laughed. “I mean, I can’t think of a first date that sacrificed hours of his life to replace my car battery on a Saturday afternoon.”

“You’re right, I’m setting the bar high,” he chuckled and shrugged. “Gonna have to change your oil next time just to keep up my reputation, then for the third date maybe rotate your tires—“

“Are these euphemisms?” you asked with mischief in your smile, not knowing the way you made his heart speed up with it.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted with a smile, his cheeks flushed pink. When he turned to look at you, he saw a bitten smirk, his head shaking. “That amuse you?”

“A little,” you nodded.

“Callin’ me a flirt,” he shook his head in mock scolding. “Look at you.”

After your leisurely walk in the park—the green of the grass and array of colors from the flowers and butterflies swarming in the air just as beautiful as Joel attempted to describe it on the way over—you and Joel found yourselves outside of an ice cream shop, sharing a chocolate and strawberry sundae.

“How are you not terrified every day? I only have Sarah to look out for and I can hardly manage, I can’t imagine a class full of ‘em,” Joel spoke, watching you as you spooned the last bit of the ice cream into your mouth.

“It’s scary at first, but then you develop this sort of bond with them—it just happens naturally, and it makes you feel responsible for them. You know? It’s just like…I feel a responsibility to show them some peace and understanding, because who knows what they have going on at home. I show up for them because I might be the only person that’s doing that, you know?” You shrugged, trying not to read into the way he was looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, his posture relaxed as he sat back in the metal patio chair. “You gotta stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He chuckled, amused by your fluster.

“Like that.” You gestured at his head. “You know exactly what you’re doing, giving me those pretty brown eyes—“

Joel’s laugh cut you off, his head shaking. “I’m just listening to you talk, I have no control over my pretty brown eyes.”

“Mmhm,” you rolled your eyes and chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“I, uh—Sarah’s away tonight. If you wanted to come over—“ Joel watched as you lifted an eyebrow. “Not for that—well, I mean—but I just meant to continue talking. We have a pool—“

“Why didn’t you start with that?” You stood upright and snapped your fingers at him, earning a grin. “Chop, chop, Mr. Miller.”

Joel made a pit stop at your place so that you could change into a swimsuit, throwing your dress back on over it before hurrying back out to the truck. Once inside his house, you found yourself studying the scene much like he had earlier at yours. It felt almost unreal to be in his space, the intimacy of walking the same halls he walked every morning and night turning you drunk.

“Pools out back, I’m gonna grab us some beers.” You nodded at him as he broke off towards the kitchen while you kept forward towards the sliding glass door to his patio.

Pulling the door open, you were surprised to see a rather nice little backyard set up. He draped yellow string lantern lights in zig zags from fence to fence, illuminating the pool and patio table.

“Here you go,” Joel appeared from behind you, handing you a beer before walking over to the table and taking a seat. You joined him, giving him an expectant but playful smirk as you entered a staring match. “What’s got you smilin’ like that?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, turning your grin towards the pool. “I’m just having a good time.”

Joel’s chest swole with pride at your confession.

“You wanna get in? It’s heated.” You gave him an impressed up and down, making him chuckle.

“Fancy,” you teased as you stood up, avoiding his eyes as your hands found the knot holding your wrap dress together. Before you could move to untie the knot, Joel’s hands rested over yours, his body now standing tall in front of you. Your eyes shot up to meet his and your breath faltered, his lips just a few inches away.

“May I?” Joel asked for permission as he replaced your fingers on the knot with his own. You gave him a quick nod, your lips parting as you waited with bated breath for him to undress you. Joel slipped the knot undone, the dress falling open. His eyes traveled from your face down the front of your body as he slid the dress off your shoulders, leaving you in just your swimsuit. His hands were quick to touch your skin, a soft gasp spilling from your lips at the fire his skin on yours caused. “You’re too beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” you praised, lifting your hand to cup his bearded cheek. Joel’s lips curled up at the sound of your compliment, his hands giving your waist a squeeze. “Remember that rule we talked about breaking earlier?”

“Uh-huh,” Joel nodded, leaning in to fill the gap between your lips until he was crashing into you, your fingers threading into his hair as you accepted the attack. Joel moaned as you tugged on his hair, walking you back against the table and hoisting you onto the metal. “You taste so sweet, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, earning a growl of desperation as he licked and sucked his way down to your neck, fighting the urge to leave his mark on you.

“Hey, neighbor?” Joel’s older neighbor called from over the fence, interrupted their heated makeout. He sighed and rested his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to gather his composure enough to form a response.

“Yep?” Joel called back.

“Your girl’s locked out, just came knockin’ on our door.” Joel’s brows furrowed and he immediately straightened up, his eyes apologetic as he handed you your dress.

“Thanks,” he called back before placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” you assured as you tied your dress, the throbbing between your thighs persistent but the sound of him calling you baby was a more-than sufficient distraction, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You sat back down at the table and waited until Joel came back out, your fingers drawing hearts on the dust covering the table. When you caught yourself, you scoffed, disgusted by the cutesy feelings filling you to the brim, and wiped the table with your palm. Walking over to the edge of the pool, you rinsed the dust off and listened as the glass door slid open.

“Hey,” Sarah greeted, her voice nearly making you fall into the water as you weren’t expecting it. “How was the date?”

You stood up and chuckled, ignoring her question by changing the subject. “How was it at Jessie’s?”

“It was good, just didn’t want to spend the night,” she informed as she sat on one of the patio chairs, swinging her feet.

“Where’s your dad?” You weren’t sure what to say to her and desperately wanted Joel to come out to help carry the burden of this awkward tension.

“Using the bathro—“

“Nope,” he interrupted as he stepped outside, mouthing an apology to you as he walked over to her and kissed her head. “Can you go inside for a second?”

“Sure thing,” Sarah gave you a knowing smile as she left the two of you alone, closing the glass door behind her.

“Sorry,” he stepped to you, placing his hands on either side of you face. “Don’t think we’re gonna get to continue that tonight.”

“It’s alright,” you rubbed his chest.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, eyes full of reverence as he looked at you.

“Whenever,” you shrugged, pinching his chin. “I’m free after five every night.”

“I’ll try to talk Tommy into babysitting on Friday.” You grinned at his suggestion and nodded your head. “Lemme grab Sarah and we’ll drive you home.”

“Wait—“ You stopped him before he could get too far, tugging him down for a deep kiss, his arms wrapping around you and squeezing you so tight that you hoped it would last all week until you saw him next, but the minute he let go of you, you already missed him. “One more kiss.”

“One more,” he repeated as he kissed you again, slow, deep, and lingering, the two of you procrastinating. Finally, you gathered the will to pull away, chuckling at your breathlessness. “Alright, if we don’t stop now, I’m just gonna keep on torturin’ myself.”

“Not into that?” you quipped seductively, tilting your head at him as you tucked your hands into the back pockets of his jeans to pull him closer. Joel chuckled and shook his head at you as though you were testing every ounce of his strength.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with you, aren’t I?” he husked, leaning back in to place a feather-light kiss to your lips as you responded with a grin.

“Your hands are already pretty full, wouldn’t you say?” Joel laughed against you and gave your ass a squeeze, his palms having already been firmly planted there.

“Oh, I like you,” Joel hummed, pecking your lips once more before pulling away. “Here,” Joel handed you his keys before pinching your chin. “Start the truck up and I’ll go get Sarah.”

“Sure thing,” you beamed as you watched him start towards the house, stopping him once more with your voice. “Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“I like you too.” You and Joel stood there lovestruck, a chuckle slipping from his lips as he struggled to find the strength to take you back home, not ready for the night to be over. But knowing that the best things come to those who wait, Joel took a breath of patience and smiled.

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

[rabbitsrants]

CONAN DIES WHEN RAN CRIES

i'll let shinichi explain:

chapter 71

when i first read this chapter, i thought that shinichi was sweet talking ran to avoid her wrath, but rereading the manga made me realize how misguided i was

"it hurts me when you cry" is shinichi admitting something deeply personal, it's him explaining why ran's tears always get a reaction out of him, regardless of the circumstances, regardless of the body he's in

chapter 9

ran: is struggling with shinichi's absence

shinichi: starts calling her on the phone as himself

chapter 48

ran: is emotionally overwhelmed after the karaoke bar case, thinking that shinichi is back and avoiding her, waits for him in the cold for three hours

shinichi: comes up with the idea of talking to her as himself by turning off the lights

i love this moment so much, cause he's using both ran's love language (physical touch) and his own (words of affirmation) to ground and reassure her and it works

chapter 95

shinichi: tells ran to stop crying and ignores heiji in the middle of a case to ask her to wait for him

chapter 143

shinichi: checks on ran after using her for his deduction, drops honorifics when he realizes what he's done and defeatedly endures her tears

also shinichi: never involves her in a case to this extent ever again, even 1000 chapters later

chapter 260

shinichi: involuntary flakes on ran during their date and has to face her as conan

also shinichi: forgets he's conan for a sec as he drops the most epic lines in the manga

chapter 334

ran: is heartbroken cause it's valentine's day and shinichi's still gone

shinichi:

puts the jacket on her when she falls alseep,

reaches out to her as himself

and eats her chocolate

just to get her to smile again.

chapter 479-483

ran: supsects conan's real identity again and feels like he's completely out of reach even though he's so close

also ran: stops suspecting him but still expresses feelings of emotional distance to shinichi

shinichi: gets a second phone just for ran

and carries it with him wherever he goes.

chapter 727 (white day)

ran: starts crying because she thinks shinichi didn't get her anything for white day

shinichi: goes out of his way to draw attention to his gift so she stops crying

(LMFAO, he's so extra)

chapter 743-752

ran: feels like her feelings for shinichi are one-sided, is absolutely devasted, runs off crying

shinichi: drops his current case, runs after her

and confesses his love for her, so she never doubts his feelings for her again.

chapter 884

ran: is frustrated by all the misfortune shinichi brings

shinichi:

in conclusion, shinichi only has two weaknesses: aptx 4869 and ran's tears. and the funniest part is that aptx didn't even kill him like it was supposed to. ran's tears on the other hand? i believe they possess great power. enough power to kill shinichi?

visit the shinran library for more

[imviotrash]

🗡️Edward Midford and Autism coding 🗡️

During my Hiatus from the Kuroshitsuji fandom, I got diagnosed with autism. It took me some time to come to terms with that and to figure myself out.

I returned to the Kuro fandom last summer, due to (what I now come to recognize as) my longtime special Interest finally getting an anime adaptation and upon rereading some of my favourite arcs, I came to the realisation that I see a lot of my (and my peers) autistic traits in Edward. What's interesting about this character is that he has a lot of autistic traits, that are not really touched upon in media. So lets get into it!

The gentleman extreme (and how everything is taken a bit too literal/seriously):

In his introduction in chapter 52 he is shown to uphold the same beliefs as his mother, scolding his sister for behaving in an unbecoming manner. He's shown to be very close to his family and strictly upholds their values of protection. At first one may assume he is just like his mother, but it is quickly revealed that he is far more ridiculous. His upholding of his gentleman status is often paired with anger, such as in chapter 58, where he scolds other men for not letting women and children go on the lifeboats first (king behaviour) and also being the one to later recommend to look for more survivors. He has a strong code of ethics and upholds it, even if it is seen as ridiculous or even dangerous.

When it comes to clothing, he also upholds strict values and instantly gets flustered and afraid when that standard is not upheld, to the point where he needs physical distance and shields his eyes.

From these tidbits already we can observe that he is ridiculously formal, upholding the social decorum to the very extreme. While autistic individuals are known for their non-conformity, they are also known to accidentally not conform by confirming too much and following instructions to every detail. I fall into both extremes, but I definitely stick to the latter when it comes to social interactions.

I think Edward definitely falls into that category, because he represents how ridiculous the Victorian code of ethics and etiquette can be if upheld at all times. I may dabble into headcannon territory again, but I strongly believe that knighthood and the chivalry connected to it is something like a special interest for him, which contributes to the way he acts.

Aggression and volume:

In his introduction he yells at his future brother in law. A complete overreaction and incredibly ironic considering his previous scolding regarding etiquette. This happens multiple times, especially when confronted with Ciel his gentlemanly behaviour suddenly turns into childish banter. He is usually soft spoken but can be louder if he is simply commanded to do so.

Volume control is something a lot of autistic people struggle with. For me it's especially when talking about special interests or talking to a person who interrupts me A LOT. I am quiet and do not speak often, so when I do I must make the most of it.

Based on cannon evidence, I believe that Edward may struggle with this too. He's loud to get his point across, because he believes that loudness will make others listen to him.

Spiky hair, in this economy?

So we all know Frances and her strict rules regarding men's hair, right? Everything has to be slicked back and she thinks Sebastians hair is atrocious (so do I). So why is it that her son is the only one allowed to run around with this type of hairstyle? Alexis has very nicely brushed back hair, Elizabeths is also nicely done. Isn't it strange that she makes an exception for ONE family member?

So here is where I dabble into headcannons, because I think the exception was made because he has sensory issues regarding his hair. He doesn't like it slicked back in any way and feels uncomfortable with any product in his hair.

Once again, heavily falling into headcannons, so take this one with a grain of salt.

Elizabeth and her influence:

Edward is incredibly attached to his sister. Mainly being protective of her and not trusting other men (especially his brother in law) to treat her with the respect she deserves. He knows and appreciates her skill and knows she's incredibly capable. So...why is he so attached?

Elizabeth is an important catalyst for his behaviour, because it shows the extremes of his gentleman code. His good manners instantly turn into ridiculous aggression as soon as he sees something that he views as a threat to her. Despite his behaviour towards Ciel, he does care about him, because he realises how important he is to his sister. Elizabeth is a person of comfort for Edward. He admires her talent and sees her as a valuable family member who has been through a lot of hurt.

Autistic individuals often have trouble with boundaries and attach themselves onto others quickly, which leads to them unintentionally treating them incorrectly. This is definitely the case here, since he gives little (social) agency to Elizabeth for the sake of her protection. He genuinely cares about her but is unable to set healthy boundaries, because his way of emphaphy differs from the social norm.

Masking and copying behaviour:

What is interesting about Edward is how he copies the behaviour of others. He has a role model and copies their behaviour because he desires to master it. So why does he do that?

My answer is masking. Edward genuinely admires these people, but is unsure of how to adapt their skills in his own way, so he copies them. This is something we can often see in masking. Behaviour that is seen as acceptable by society is often copied by autistic individuals to blend into society. I think for Edward it's a combination of masking and admiration. His strong upholding of the Gentleman code also fits well into this category.

Beyond that, the Blue cult arc also proves that he able to severely alter the way he behaves, if needed. Does he feel comfortable with that? Absolutely not. But he does have the great ability to do so if instructed, which proves to yet be another factor for him masking his behaviour.

Mediocrity in a Neurotypical society:

So Edward had this nice monologue about him being mediocre compared to his prodigy sister and I think it is exactly this scene, which makes me headcannon him as autistic. Because this is the exact trait I do not see often.

In media, many autistic individuals are represented as prodigies and amazingly intelligent and I can't help but hate that stereotype, because it puts unrealistic expectations on disabled individuals. I have prodigy friends who are autistic and I truly admire them, but I need people to understand that autism is a disability and not just "socially incompetent person who is going to revolutionise the world". As soon as one's interest is not deemed useful by society (which mainly includes "feminine" interests), they are not validated. Autism is only accepted by society if it proves to be impressive or useful. It is not seen as a disability, but as something to exploit.

I like Edwards monologue, because I relate and it rounds out his character really well. He accepts that he is not a prodigy, that he sucks in many regards, but that he still looks up to those who fit into the standard. His monologue is something that I've truly taken into heart, because you do not need to be a prodigy to be valid, you should not need to be extraordinary to be accepted as you are. You are allowed to be mediocre. You are allowed to treat your disability as a disability, because that's what it is.

Lastly:

Please remember that most of this is based on my personal expenses with autism. It is an incredibly diverse neuro divergency and manifests itself differently in all sorts of ways. Many of these traits may not apply to you or to anyone you know. This is just a personal observation based on my own and my companions experiences.

[corvidares]

you know what, i've sent this list to a couple friends at this point so i might as well make it a post -

ACE ATTORNEY FIC RECOMMENDATIONS!

(all mostly sfw) (i'll make a separate list of nsfw ones) in no particular order, besides the first few!

Pressure (pushing down on me) - genuinely the best ace attorney fic i've read. between the characterization, expansion of plotbeats, the prose, etc. Pressure elaborates on and reinterprets canon scenes taking place in the main trilogy. Obviously narumitsu flavored. CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS ENOUGH.

Kindred - my FAVORITE, genuinely a comfort fic i've reread at least three times. miles adopts Pess, a borzoi dog tied to a murder case. very narumitsu flavored

Indefensible - also HIGH up there as a favorite, a very robust murder case with fantastic characterization across the board. it's got narumitsu, it's got franmaya, it's got drama. everything you need. there IS a few sex scenes, but the author warns you in the chapter descriptions if thats not your thing.

continued....

take it like a man - light angst centered on phoenix, and suit shopping. it's good

New Digs - really well written oneshot highlighting maya's ptsd, which we don't do enough of as a fandom btw

you still love him (but she does too) - classic case 3-5 hospital scene, very beautifully written

i didn't know how so we took it in turns (to my surprise we found my words) - narumitsu hurt/comfort focused on miles' ptsd

the soul truth (and nothing but the the truth) - FRANMAYA CENTRIC MULTI CHAPTER!!! WOOHOO. a really very good case fic :]

Triple Blind Taste Test - this is a oneshot about fran being autistic and struggling with food texture, which makes Me Personally feel very seen

to know gifts given - miles and pearl bonding, very cute :'D

the patience of little great things - trucy sickfic, miles does the Most to help phoenix take care of her.

[monstertidbits]

i don't know why it took me so long to pinpoint the exact problem izutsumi had with laios specifically; yeah she was nasty towards everyone at first but she was much worse when it came to laios and he's the one she took the longest to warm up to. then i reread the series and got to ch43 and just.

it's clear why she can't stand laios at all: he's the leader. he's the one who calls the shots, he's the one everyone follows and as it seems, they obey even if what he suggests makes them uncomfortable. and she hates that, because she just managed to run away from the nakamoto clan, she's finally free. even laios simply being caring and concerned for her makes her mad, because she feels this is him being condenscending just like how her old party was.

at first, he seemed like some weirdo who likes to indulge himself and doesn't take into consideration everyone else's opinion. that's why he's the one she struggles to understand and accept as a friend the most in her new party, keeping up this attitude of hers for quite a while. but a lot has happened after she joined the party and she saw this man helping his friends, putting them before him and saving them time and time again, and taking matters into his own hands instead of passively waiting for a miracle, just like her; especially when he took responsibility for his sister's current state and killed her on his own. albeit wary at first, she came to respect him and his choices. so when he asked her to do this one thing, she didn't even protest:

she simply asked him about his promise to reunite with everyone, with his friends. and then she followed his lead, even though he didn't answer her, because he didn't need to; izutsumi already decided to put her trust in him, whatever the outcome may be. their relationship is another example of laios's struggle with leadership in the manga and being considered a rather unusual leader, and that makes their interaction in chapter 95 so much more sweet and meaningful:

this is her giving back for all that he has done for them in this journey. she comes back to him, to give him advice and encouragement and tell him that everyone cares enough about him to want to struggle for him, too, just like he did for them. she's the one to help him clear his head when he needed it most. and this chapter purposely starts with her being surprised at being called laios's "comrade", because it's about her not only accepting him as the leader, but as her friend too.

[muffinrecord]

Saw the ask about magical boys and your wish for magical trans kids: may I introduce you to Zoe from Sleepless Domain webcomic? She is one of the main secondary characters and she's super sweet and tries her best! (If you haven't read Sleepless Domain, try it out! It has a ton of fun concepts, pain and suffering, world cold girlfriends soft, parents know what is going on but are powerless to step in and have to let their kids fight, three mysterious gals, wholesome team(s) and survivor's guilt~

I love Sleepless Domain! I've actually backed both of its kickstarters. It's easily one of my favorite post-Madoka magical girl stories out there and I'd also highly recommend it to anyone who's looking for a good story in general.

Also imo CubeWatermelon is REALLY good at compositions. Seriously, if you like comics and can appreciate a good set of panels, check out her work (note that the first two chapters had their art made by a different artist, but Cube has done the art for the rest of the comic). I reread the comic once every few months just to study her pages. Like, take note how often she doesn't chicken out and will just make sure that excellent establishing shots and good backgrounds are included-- you never feel lost reading her work and always know where everyone is. The flow and movement are really good too. Fight scenes can be really hard to portray but you can easily tell what folks are doing.

I know that sounds like the bare minimum but you'd be surprised by how many comics out there really struggle with making sure that the reader, like. actually knows what's going on. Finding an artist that prioritizes clarity is a nice treat. I'm also always impressed at how much character and personality she can pack into a page. Off the top of my head, stuff like Tessa's room being full of her own merchandise:

Anyways yeah, Sleepless Domain is amazing and anyone who likes magical girl stuff should read it.

Edit: All that and I forgot to link the comic. Derp.

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series) 

chapter seven: k.

Pedro Pascal x plus size F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size afab reader, she/her pronouns, use of y/n, swearing, age gap (24/14 years), descriptions of the female body, use of the word fat, descriptions of a bigger body (stretch marks, cellulite, rolls, etc.), descriptions of nudity, sexual themes. 

Please let me know if I missed anything! Warnings may change as the story progresses. 

chapter summary: conversations and intimacy training. 

authors note: Y’all this took me way longer to write than expected. I had something else planned for this chapter but it ended up coming out like this. I really like the first half but I feel like it goes downhill towards the end. This idea is way more complicated to write for than I thought it would be lol. I still hope you enjoy!

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

“It never made sense for you to love me.”- Twilight New Moon

Love wasn’t what Pedro and you had- you understood that- but the consistent pain in your chest was telling you otherwise. In your short lifetime, you had never felt such strong emotions towards someone like you have towards Pedro, it was easy with him. He was so respectful and sweet- his charisma and it was all beginning to piss you off. Why couldn’t he just let you do your job and leave you alone? You were grateful for the friendship he had initiated because it meant your on set experience would be easier, but now that everything has gotten out of hand, you honestly wish the line between professional and personal was never crossed.

It's been a short 24 hours since your conversation with Pedro and after your intense two hour cry sesh the night prior, you felt numb. Not numb in a painful way but numb in a sense that you'd accepted what had happened and were trying your best to move forward in a reasonable manner. When you woke up this morning, you spent 20 minutes sitting on your toilet holding two icy spoons to your puffy eyes trying to reduce the swelling as much as you could, trying to hide any evidence of the pain that sat deep in your chest. It didn’t help. 

Keeping yourself busy seemed like the only way to keep your mind occupied on anything other than Pedro. At first, you found it best to read over your upcoming scenes but after about 30 minutes, your head was hurting. Your mind wandered back into the forbidden territory, flashes of Pedro’s award winning smile appeared every time you would read over one of his lines. Seeing his face in your head reminded you of the hurt in his voice and the look of disappointment he had given you. Everything you did brought your thoughts right back to him. You closed your script abruptly and picked up a book instead. You’d been rereading the Twilight series and were currently nearing the end of New Moon. You hoped that Pedro and yourself would have a similar ending, that you two would be brought back together and realize that you needed each other, that you couldn’t live without each other. It was dramatic and cliche but you didn’t care. All of your common sense left your body when it came to him. Thinking wasn’t something you needed to do with him, you just had to feel. You finished a single chapter before shutting the book and giving into the inevitable thoughts that clouded your mind. 

Letting out a sigh, you let your mind begin the analyzing it had been begging to do. The next time you would see Pedro would be in two days. The two of you have intimacy training early that morning and you'd film those scenes later in the afternoon. Having fake sex in front of a room of people isn’t exactly ideal for the first time you’d be seeing him again. Maybe you should reach out to him beforehand, talk things over, but you being the one to reach out first wasn’t something you wanted to do. It didn’t seem like the right thing to do. You had absolutely no clue as to how Pedro was feeling right now. He said he wasn’t mad but the tone of his voice and his body language said otherwise. You didn’t want to upset him more by bothering him before he even had time to process everything. He was at the forefront of your mind and you were praying that he wasn’t as hurt as you were. You couldn’t imagine that he was. 

It never made sense, the connection, the spark, the comfort. It was all too confusing and quick. But you let it happen without much thought and looking back, you wish you hadn't been so stupid. It has never bugged you so much, losing someone, no one ever mattered enough. All Pedro had to do was actually be nice to you and you were a puddle at his feet. It was a little pathetic- but he said he liked you too, so maybe it wasn’t that pathetic. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

The next two days passed by way too fast, leaving you in the studio parking lot trying to find the will to leave your car. Your body was filled with anxiety from the thought of seeing Pedro- and from being late. You waited until the very last moment to get out of your car, being late this one time was something you were willing to do to avoid any early interactions with him. With slow strides, you made your way towards the studio doors, to the reception desk, and to the room where intimacy training would take place. 

When you entered the room, Pedro was already there surrounded by a few other people. His eyes quickly met yours before he looked away just as fast. 

“Sorry I'm late…traffic.” You muttered out before sitting in an empty chair across the room, praying that no one saw that you actually pulled into the parking lot 30 minutes prior, sitting in your car staring down at the steering wheel for longer than you'd care to admit. 

As soon as you sat down, a woman immediately grabbed the attention of the room. She introduced herself as Elise, a trained intimacy coordinator. She briefly went over how the training would go, letting us know that we would go through some safety procedures before starting. Elise spoke for about 40 minutes on how important it is to feel comfortable with your co-star and the proper way to go about doing these types of scenes without incident. As she introduced the other crew members in the room, you stole a glance at Pedro. It’s as if he could feel your eyes on him, because he turned around, once again his eyes leaving yours just as quick as they met them. 

“Okay, so before we get started, I'm going to have the two of you do a check-in. Let each other know what you’re feeling and if there's any boundaries that need to be set.” She takes a seat and is talking to one of the other people in the room. Pedro doesn’t move, so you take that as a sign to walk over to him. You were hoping he’d at least be mature enough to work with you without dragging anything personal into it. 

“Good morning.” You took a moment to look at him. He was wearing a pair of charcoal gray cotton shorts with a random graphic tee. You thought he looked divine, drool worthy even.

“Morning.” He still doesn’t look at you. 

You take initiative to start the check-in, letting him know where you’re at today and that you’re ready to go, no boundaries. When he responds, his voice is very mundane and his eyes continue to avoid you. You awkwardly let out a brief ‘cool’ to acknowledge that you had heard  what he had said. There was a silence between you two, leaving the only noise coming from the light conversation from the group of crew members across the room. 

“So, are you guys ready to get started?” Elise asked with excitement in her voice. She was way too cheery for the uncomfortable mood that lingered in the air. However, you decided to match her energy as best as you could to make the day easier on yourself. 

“Of course!” You let out accompanied by a smile that didn’t quite match your tone of voice. 

Everyone in the room was then instructed to make their way to the set. You walked closer to the group of crew members, while Pedro walked slower leaving a good six feet between you guys. The set wasn’t anything too crazy. Just a cliche 70s themed bedroom, filled with orange, red, and brown. A king size bed sat in the middle of one of the makeshift walls with two night stands on either side. There was a funky pattern that lined the walls and a shag rug on the floor that matched. Everyone took a seat at some chairs that sat behind a white taped line that ran across the floor behind a bunch of expensive looking equipment, leaving Elise, Pedro, and yourself standing. 

“Okay, so we’re going to start by giving you a quick rundown of what you’ll be learning today.” She’s opening a binder that she had been holding and starts to spew the details of the scene. 

“So this scene follows Daniel admitting to Janet that he has feelings for her ,this is going to be a very passionate and steamy shot.” She turns towards the set and instructs the two of you to do the same. 

“To start, you’ll both bust through the door into the room. Daniel will be leading the makeout session, slowly pushing Janet towards the bed, but stopping right at the red tape that’s on the floor.” She’s pointing across the room with her pen as she speaks and looks back every few words to make sure Pedro and yourself are listening. 

“Once you’re there, you’ll have a moment to show the love between the characters. At this mark, you’ll both be removing some clothing and Daniel will push Janet onto the bed to crawl above her, leading into sex. Any questions?” She turns to look at the both of you. Pedro shakes his head and you follow. 

“Cool. Okay we’re going to run through it, stopping a few times along the way to choreograph each touch between the characters.” 

This whole process was so fucking awkward. You were trying your best to be professional, but nothing was ever professional when it came to Pedro. Every time the intimacy coach placed his hand on you or vice versa, you felt your body tingle. It had only been a few days but you had already forgotten how good it felt to feel Pedro’s skin on your fingertips. He still hadn’t looked at you, avoiding your eyes when you had to be face to face. 

“For the push, it doesn’t need to be a harsh push. We want it to be more of a sexy playful push rather than a dominant one.” She's speaking directly to Pedro but turns to you right after. 

“When you fall, try to land with your arms propping you up on the bed. Your forearms should be touching the bed, like this. If it’s uncomfortable at all, we can change it up.” She falls back onto the bed to show you her vision. You give her a thumbs up and stand at the red mark on the floor. 

“When you’re on the bed and he starts to climb over you, you’re going to crawl backwards, using your arms as leverage. Let’s have you guys try that out real quick.” Elise steps off of the set and stands past the cameras where the other crew have been sitting. 

She yells a quick ‘action’ and Pedro is pushing you onto the bed. When you land onto the bed, you look up at his face to see that he’s already looking at you with an intense stare. He starts to lean onto the bed to crawl over you and you’re moving backwards as instructed. Once your head hits a pillow, Pedro is fully hovering over you. The two of you never break eye contact and you could feel your heart beating out of your chest, your breath wavering. You could feel the temperature of your body rising rapidly and a slight pulse hit your core. Having Pedro completely over your body like this was torture. His hands were on either side of your head and if you looked down towards his lower body, you could see the weight of his- 

“Perfect!” Elise lets out with an excited squeal, making you snap out of the trance you were under. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

Elise had you guys run the full choreography three more times in full, minus the kissing and getting naked part. Once she and the other crew members were satisfied, everyone was sent on an hour and a half break before you all had to come back to actually film. You were feeling extremely hot and bothered. Pedro’s touch was intoxicating and the way he looked at you when he was on top of you made you feel feral. 

You desperately needed to talk to him. You scanned the room and saw him walking out of two large doors that led to the parking lot. Following him, your eyes sweep over the large parking lot as quickly as possible, hoping you’d be able to catch him before he was gone. 

“Pedro!” You called out the moment you found him. He was reaching for his car door but abruptly stopped when he heard his name. 

“Can we please talk? Just give me five minutes. Please.” You knew you were probably the last person he wanted to talk to, but you really needed to clear some of the tension between you two. 

“Okay.” He stands there for a minute before motioning for you to get into his car. When you sit down, you can feel all of the emotions from the last time you were in this seat still lingering in the air. 

“How are you?” You asked genuinely with a hint of awkwardness. 

“Fine.” He huffs out. 

“Pedro please don’t be like that.” You practically begged. You were hoping for a productive conversation but this wasn’t going to do any good if he wasn’t willing to actually talk to you. 

“Like what y/n?” He finally looks at you and he looks pissed. You let out a sigh. 

“Look…I know that you’re mad at me or whatever but I don’t know what else to do here P. I didn’t mean to lie to you and I told you the truth before anything furthered between us. If you can’t forgive me then at least be professional and work with me as a costar. Please?” Your voice began to waver but you held it together. You see his eyes soften slightly. 

“I told you I’m not mad at you.” His voice is soft. 

“Then what are you feeling? You’ve left me in the dark P. I’ve given you space and I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but can we at least talk this out? Let me know how you feel so I’m not jumping to conclusions in my own head?” The car goes quiet, no sound other than the light thumping coming from your nails tapping the center console. 

“You’re so young…” He practically whispers. “You have a whole life ahead of you, I'd only be holding you back baby.” 

Your heart flutters at the endearment. 

“And with how the world works, no one would approve of us. You can’t start out your career like that, having people judge you because of me. You deserve someone your age, someone you can have fun with.” 

“Were we not having fun before I told you my real age? How does that change anything?” You could feel the frustration rising in you. You absolutely hated when people tried to tell you what was right for you. Pedro just struck a nerve he didn’t even know you had. 

“Yea but it’s different-” You cut him off before he can finish. 

“How exactly is it different P…hm?” There's a slight hint of anger in your voice, the patience you once had completely dissolving. 

“You're just a kid.” 

If it were physically possible, you would have steam shooting out of your ears from how angry you are right now. Looking away, you take a deep breath and think over your thoughts before your mouth spews words you’ll later regret. 

“I understand that the age difference between us is way more than you bargained for but I’m not a kid. I am fully capable of making my own decisions and deciding what’s best for me and my career. I appreciate the concern but it’s not your place to think for me. If this whole thing is too much to handle then that’s fine. We can just be friends, or not even friends.. I don’t know P. I just can’t do whatever we’re doing now.” Your irritation falls off towards the end, feeling more hopeless than anything. 

“I don’t want to be your friend.” 

Ouch. 

You’re searching his eyes trying to find any hint that he’s being mean to make this ‘breakup’ easier and not just being mean because it’s the truth. 

“Okay…we can just be coworkers then.” You turn your head forward. All you can feel is the same pain that you had felt that night, but this time it felt final. There wasn’t more guessing Pedro’s feelings, no more maybes. This was it. 

“Y/n…I don’t think you understand.” His hand reaches out for yours but you're moving it away before he has the chance to grab it. 

“Then make me understand P… I’ve been trying to understand.” 

“I can’t be your friend because I won’t be able to be close to you without longing for you every second. It’s been so long since I felt what I feel with you and it’s been eating me alive, sweetheart. All I want to do is be near you, hold you, be with you, but fuck y/n, I shouldn’t want you the way I do. I can’t have you the way I want you.” His eyes were on yours the entire time, showing you the sincerity behind every word.

You don’t know if it’s his confession or the pent of horniness you'd been harboring for the past two hours that made you jump at him but before he, or even yourself really, had a chance to process what was happening, you were leaning across the center console, lips moving with his. All of the tension in your body melted away as Pedro softly grabbed your face with his hands. This kiss was soft and full of passion, like you were making up for lost time. It was nothing short of perfect. When you pull back, you’re smiling. When you open your eyes to see the look on Pedro’s face, your smile drops.

“Y/n we can't do this.” He says giving you a pitiful look and pain tucked behind his eyes.

“K.” 

You’re getting out of the car before he could protest, you needed to get away from him. Slamming the passenger door, maybe a little too hard, you’re practically stomping back to the studio. You decided to get your hair and makeup early to calm your brain down a little bit before you were surrounded by people again. God you were being so childish right now but why would he kiss you back if he still didn’t want you. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─

You were zoned out the entire time you were sitting in the dressing room getting dolled up for the cameras, only speaking when one of the stylists asked a question. Your brain was working overtime right now, trying to calm your emotions while also trying to focus on the scene you'd have to film in just a few minutes. 

Over the past hour, you’ve been trying to create some sort of plan to get Pedro to change his mind. You didn’t want to lose him, he was too good of a man to fumble, so you decided that you wouldn’t stop pursuing him until he told you to your face that he didn’t want you. What you were planning wasn’t ethical at all and broke all kinds of work relationship rules but your relationship with Pedro had already crossed that line the first day you had met. 

Walking over to the set, you could feel the nerves rising. You wanted to seduce Pedro as best as you could. He was obviously attracted to you and you were going to abuse that. You were hoping that him seeing your naked body for the first time would send him spirling, leaving him no other choice than to want you enough to take the chance and be with you. 

“Quiet on set! Can we get Daniel and Janet on set please? Thank you.” 

You step onto the small platform that separated the set floor from the studio floor and walk over to Elise. Pedro stands next to you, ignoring your presence once again. 

“Are you guys ready to run it?” Elise is asking with a big smile. You could see Pedro nod his head and you do the same. 

“Okay, just make sure you’re doing exactly what we rehearsed. If anything feels uncomfortable let us know and we’ll stop rolling and fix the issue. You guys got this!” Elise raises her hands to give you both a high five and she's walking to sit next to the director. 

“Places!” 

You're both walking over to the door that you'd be bursting through in a few moments. Pedro places his hands on you, preparing for them to yell “action”. You’re looking into his eyes, getting into character and he’s doing the same. 

“Ready baby?” You ask him with a smirk, wanting to fuck with his head as much as you could. His eyes go wide but before he can say anything the director's voice booms over the space. 

“Action!” 

He gives you a nod before diving down to kiss you. He's pushing you into the door that flings open as you walk backwards, lips still attached. When you reach the red mark on the floor, you pull apart from him. Looking into each other's eyes with the love and passion you so badly wanted from him outside of this scene. You’re reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt and lift it, just as rehearsed. He pulls the rest off by himself, leaving you to marvel at his chest for a moment before he’s reaching for your own shirt. You're looking at his eyes but he is trained down onto your cleavage, which is pushed up slightly by your bra. 

When he looks back at your face, you could feel your core pulse in excitement. He had this hungry look in his eyes and you were confident that it wasn’t because he was acting. You grab his face to pull him back into you, continuing to clash tongues and teeth. Pedro reaches behind you to grab your ass, pulling you closer to him in the process. You let out an involuntary whimper. He slides his hands up the sides of your body, trailing his hands to the clasp of your bra. He pulls back and pulls each strap down your arms, letting it fall onto the floor, leaving your chest exposed to him. 

“fuck ..” He lets out but it’s barely audible and it definitely wasn’t scripted. 

He’s pushing you back onto the bed and the two of you began the crawl that you had practiced many times before, never breaking eye contact. Once you were laying down, Pedro hoving over you once again, you started to feel exposed and slightly insecure. Before you can think further, Pedro is pulling down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the lacy black thong that had extra lining that matched your skin tone. He takes a moment removing his own pants, leaving him in a pair of tighty whities. Even with the protective sock he wore for actor protection, you could still see the outline of his dick. 

He crawls back over you, his eyes dark. You reach up to kiss him again and you begin the ‘grinding’ into him. All that was going through your head were the events of the night in your trailer. How he felt against you. Another weak moan slips past your lips and his hands are reaching down, removing the black thong and leaving the skin tone underwear that sat under it. 

This was feeling way too real and you were soaked. You knew that whoever was in charge of cleaning costumes would hate their life when your soaked underwear made their way to them. Your mind refocuses to see Pedro’s own underwear had been removed, leaving him in his own weird skin toned thing, sock thingy. He looks down, pretending to grab his dick and ‘enters’ it into you. You let out a breathy moan, not entirely fake as you imagine how it would really feel. Pedro lets out a grunt and starts to rock his hips forwards onto you. The pressure of his heavy cock was rubbing you a little too good. There definitely wasn’t enough protection between the two of you and if you hadn’t had such a strong attraction towards Pedro, you’d definitely feel uncomfortable right now. He’s kissing you again but all you can do is let out tiny breathy moans into his mouth, trying your best to focus on acting. He’s giving you a nod, signaling to start the big finish. You’re both letting out boasting moans, his head falling into your neck as your hands are clawing at his back. Both breathing heavily, he gives your neck a small kiss. 

You can’t help but let your mind freak out. That kiss wasn’t for the camera, it was out of view. That kiss was just for you. 

“Cut!” 

Pedro makes his way off of you, grabbing a robe that is being handed to him. You slowly got up, feeling dizzy and confused. You wrapped the robe that was offered to you and listened to whatever was being said by whoever was talking. You couldn’t focus even if you had tried. 

You sat in the corner as everyone watched the footage, making sure it was good before releasing the team. Once the director gave the thumbs up, you were rushing back to your dressing room to get undone. 

“You guys were amazing out there, the chemistry was insane. Everything looked so real! I guess that’s why you guys get paid the big bucks huh?” One of the girls in the room gushed about the performance. You simply let out a small thanks to show your appreciation. 

You wanted nothing more than to go home and wallow in self pity over a man that doesn’t want you. You still planned on not giving up but you really needed a breather and a break. 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

Thank you for reading <3

series tag list: @nuetralcolorsenthusiast, @kungfucapslock, @hansilandgretel, @ashleyfilm, @titabel, @fifitheragertot, @maryfanson, @ktluvsmen, @eldauvs, @dionneroyal49, @godlypresley, @bloody-bunni666, @beautiflybybri, @a-beautiful-but-sassy-world, @amo-nix

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt.2

Notes: yeah there was always going to be more to this, honestly. Sfw, more of Reader's dad being an ass, more elaboration on Reader's job and condition, and some suggestive content towards the end.

Pt 1 here

You weren’t surprised that your father had requested you make your presence limited during his dinner with the Regrator. That was the only part of this situation that wasn’t a surprise. The rest of it all, you’re unsure which is more shocking; the fact your father had asked Pantalone for a do-over dinner, or that Pantalone accepted the invitation. There’s also the realization that your father is willing to work with the Fatui in order not to compromise the wealthy lifestyle your family has been living for generations now. A month after the initial party, the shock is not only still real, but his doubling down on it has taken you and your mother aback. 

“Dear, I understand things have been a little shaky for us,” your mother said the night Pantalone’s invitation acceptance was made known, “but do we need to do this? We can honestly get by fine enough, even if it’s not as much as we had before.”

You could hear in his voice that your father was scowling. “You’d really want to embarrass both of our families like that? Lose all standings and ties we have with our friends and colleagues?”

“By the Tsaritsa, you’re making it out like we’re about to go homeless! We’re downsizing!”

“Will we be keeping all our servants if we downsize? Are you going to start cooking our meals? Taking our son to his appointments or to his publisher? Buying all his supplies?”

You raised your hand, not looking up from your book. “Friendly reminder that I am the one who pays for my appointments and supplies now.”

“That’s pocket money compared to the costs of transportation and the accommodations we’ve made and will need to make,” your father snapped, “and you’re still making less than us to boot!”

You looked up and directly in the direction of your father’s voice. His silhouette was backlit by the light of the fireplace, and your initial thought was how it looked like hellfire. You made a mental note to include it somewhere in the next few chapters of your book. 

That was not the end of the arguing between your mother and father, but that was the point you stepped out of the conversation. Their bickering grew louder when you left the room to read elsewhere. With the eerie, hateful silence that plagued the manor the next morning, you took that as a sign that this dinner with Pantalone was happening whether you and your mother liked it or not. 

Fine, whatever. You have work to do anyways.

That is the mantra you repeat in your head as you feel it start to ache in frustration. Your eyes pour over the words you’ve typed so far, trying to make sense of the point you’re making. The wording is clunky, awkward, but you’re struggling to come up with something more concise that accurately conveys the thoughts in your mind. You hear your editor’s voice telling you it doesn’t have to be perfect, that’s the point of a first draft, to just get the point down and then figure out how to make it sound nice after you’ve figured out the whole story. The perfectionist in you screams otherwise, but offers no solution other than to start over completely.

You rub your eyes, feeling mentally drained. Part of you says to take a break, but part of you says you have to make the most of your motivation while you have it, and you are so close to figuring it all out, it’s on the tip of your tongue. Or fingers, come to think of it.

You’re on what feels like the hundredth reread of your scene, having stared at the words so much that they start to look foreign. Your concentration on the page is hardly broken when you hear the door to your office open, and as such, you do not look up. It’s merely Adelaide, you think, just bringing you some refreshments. Your fingers hover over the typewriter as soft footsteps approach your desk, just out of your vision.

You poke at the keys slowly, feeling inspiration drain out of your fingertips. The footsteps grow closer, and you find it odd that Adelaide has yet to say anything, but continue hyperfocusing on your work. Come on, you have the image in your head, and your descriptive vocabulary is vast enough that you should know how to describe it, even if only in fragments. You have the wording of it in your head so why can’t you actually put the words down on paper?

The footsteps stop right next to you. You don’t pay them any mind, assuming Adelaide is about to place something on your desk, perhaps a slice from the cake your father bought for his dinner tonight. You move the geography textbook you have out to the corner of your desk and move what you have of your chapter so far out of the way.

Unable to look out of the corner of your eye, you can not see her move closer to you, but you sense her presence right next to you. The feeling of someone’s body heat is hard to miss, as is the distinct sensation of being watched. You can’t see it, but it feels like Adelaide is standing right on the edge of where your vision ends.

You barely look up from the typewriter when you address her. “Adelaide, I would like some personal space.”

The laughter you hear right in your ear is a man’s. You immediately jump up and away, stumbling over your chair and falling on your back. You sit up, and at first, you see the dark attire and feel your stomach sink. It continues sinking down as your eyes move up to see Pantalone’s face. He’s smiling, which might have been handsome if he wasn’t finding clear amusement in your reaction.

You can’t find your words, so Pantalone speaks instead.

“Apologies,” he says, chuckling a little, “I was just… testing something.”

My fight or flight instincts? You ask yourself but know better than to verbalize. Pantalone steps forward and sets your chair upright, and glances at the typewriter on your desk. He stares for a few seconds, and lets out a soft hum as his eyes drift to where your other finished pages are. His gloved hand drifts over to the pile, and that’s when you quickly stand up.

“That’s not finished yet,” you quickly tell him, “it’s a rough draft.”

You see his eyes glance your way, and he retracts his hand. Pantalone takes a step back, turning to face you. “So I’m not allowed to read any of it?”

“I…” The verbal trap he’s laid out is not lost on you. He knows you can’t easily, confidently say “no” to a Harbinger, especially since you have made a fool of yourself in front of him before. You swallow, and rephrase your thoughts. “I-I would prefer to have a finished chapter before I let anyone read my works.”

Pantalone smiles wider. “Ah, I suppose that is fair.”

He continues to smile and stare at you as you awkwardly sit back down in your chair. You turn your head in his direction, propping your chin up on your hand. “I, um, I thought you were having dinner with my father…?”

Pantalone nods. “Yes, we were, but when I had asked why you were not joining us, I could tell I had struck a nerve between your father and mother.”

“... How so?”

“Your mother asked if she could speak to your father for a moment, and when they did not come back for another ten or so minutes, I figured I should go find them.”

“Did you?”

“They seemed… busy.”

You can imagine the argument right now. You shake your head. “Sorry about that, things have been sort of, um… hectic here. It’s taken its toll on my parents.”

Pantalone nods in understanding, and you wonder if he thinks this has anything to do with the party. You turn back to the typewriter and, rereading the page, decide you hate it and it needs to go. You reach forward and grasp the knob on the end of the roller, twisting it until the paper can be slipped out. You reread it one last time, then crumple it up in your hands.

You hear Pantalone’s voice. “So, I take it you enjoy writing?”

“Right now? No,” you say, which earns a laugh from Pantalone, “but generally, yes.”

“How long have you been writing?”

You lean over and toss the crumpled paper in the waste bin next to your desk. “Professionally, I’ve been writing for eight years, though I started using the typewriter when I was ten.”

Pantalone watches as you slip more paper into the roller, cranking the knob on the end until the paper has been fed through properly, making minor adjustments to the paper’s position. You then slide the roller to the left, the carriage stopping it once it’s in place. Your fingers hover above the keys for a moment, and Pantalone sees your focused expression shift into exhaustion. You groan, running a hand through your hair. If he had to wager a guess, you’ve just lost all writing motivation.

“You know,” Pantalone says, “I could hear your typing through the door before I entered. You type rather fast, it’s impressive.”

The flattery noticeably catches you off guard. “Oh, um, thank you,” you reply, still a little on edge with a Harbinger in your study.

“I have secretaries who couldn’t type that fast without making mistakes, but that page you were working on had consistent strokes and only one typo.”

You turn your head in an attempt to sort of hide the way your cheeks warm up, but Pantalone silently leans over anyway to see you blush. You don’t see him doing this, which Pantalone makes another note of.

“I have the muscle memory for it, I suppose,” you remark, “it’s one of the things I’ve been working on since my diagnosis.”

“Diagnosis… oh, your eye disorder?”

You blink, and turn to Pantalone, surprised at the casual question. “How did you–”

“Your mother briefly explained it at the party,” Pantalone recounts, “that you were diagnosed as a child and do not have any peripheral vision.”

You sigh, and Pantalone hears a hint of annoyance. “Yes, that’s why I ran into you.” You turn to your typewriter, fingers hovering over the keys while you balance thinking of your scene and carrying on the conversation. “It’s called retinitis pigmentosa, and it runs in my mother’s side of the family. My grandfather had it, which made my mother a carrier for it, and then she passed it on to me, and possibly my sisters.”

“Wait, sisters?”

“One older, two younger,” you say, “and an older brother, but he got lucky so his eyesight is still fine.”

“When were you diagnosed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was eight when I was properly diagnosed,” you recount. “I used to stumble and trip over furniture all the time when I was little, and was scared of the dark. My family used to tease me about it, until I was around six or seven. That’s when my mother started getting concerned, because I was a seemingly normal child who could read, write, and talk just fine, could walk and stand upright just fine, but I would still trip and fall over seemingly obvious hazards, especially in the dark.”

“I see, I see…”

You pull your hands away from the typewriter, and interlock them on your desk. “With adequate treatment, the rate of my going blind has slowed, but cannot be prevented. From what my doctors say and what I know of my grandfather’s case, I will lose my central vision sometime in my forties if I’m lucky.”

“Oh, I’m… very sorry to hear that.”

Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air. Internally, you’re screaming at yourself for just dumping all of that on the Regrator. In all fairness, he did ask, but still.

At the edge of your central vision, you see a page from your rough draft slip away from the stack. You turn your head, and see Pantalone holding it. Heat spreads across your face, and you quickly pull the page from his grasp. The knowing smile on his face tells you it’s too late.

What sounds like condescension laces his voice. “I was enjoying that, thank you very much.” “And I said I don’t like people reading my work before it’s done,” you hiss, your embarrassment painfully obvious. You place the page back on top of the stack and lift it up and away from Pantalone. You search for a spot on your desk to put it before deciding on sticking it in a drawer. When you slam the drawer shut, your humiliation over the scene you are writing makes you use more force than is needed, which knocks your geography book off the corner of your desk and onto the ground.

Pantalone tilts his head, and you watch him lean down to pick the book up. Horror floods your body, and you try to rush around the other way to stop him, only to bang your knee against the desk. When you stand upright and look, you see Pantalone has not only picked the book up, but has opened it and started flipping through it. Now, that would not normally be a problem, except for the fact that this isn’t a geography textbook, it just has the dust cover on it.

Pantalone’s eyes widen, and though the lighting in this room is a little dimmer than you’d like, you can tell there is the faintest hue of pink on Pantalone’s face. Time slows when he looks up and meets your eyes, and all you can see is his lips twist into an absolutely massive smile, before he cackles with laughter.

He turns the book around to show you the page and the picture displayed inside takes up the entirety of your vision. Your face is on fire, and Pantalone nearly doubles over with how hard he’s laughing. He barely manages to pull himself together enough, straightening his posture and wiping tears from his eyes. He’s not even trying a little bit to hide the amusement he’s feeling at your expense.

He adjusts his glasses so they’re no longer crooked. “J-Just what sort of writer are you?”

You snatch the book from his hand and slam it shut. Pantalone watches you, waiting for an answer. “I-If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

Pantalone just smiles down at you, and you feel your heart pulsing in your throat at the sound of his voice. “Oh? Are you that eager to get rid of me?”

You glare at him, and he just shakes his head in defeat. You look down at the floor, and your voice trembles in shame. “... I write romance, b-but my editor said I should try something, um, steamier. Their w-words, not mine. I-I don’t really know how to write that sort of thing, so I have this, for reference material.”

“Reference material, he claims,” Pantalone teases.

“L-Look, I’m not in the mood for this,” you snap, “and my father is probably looking for you, so could you please let me get back to my work?”

You do not wait for Pantalone’s answer before you walk away and plop back into your chair. You toss the book into another drawer and slam it shut as well, this time out of anger and embarrassment. Pantalone takes that as a sign that any and all conversation has stopped, and decides he’s had enough fun toying with you. This bizarre scenario aside, you do make a good point; he really should get back to this meeting.

He walks away, trying not to laugh again at what he’s learned about the young man who nearly ruined his suit. He makes his way to the door, taking hold of the knob.

“Wait.”

Pantalone pauses, and looks at you over his shoulder.

“... Don’t mention this to my parents.”

He chuckles. “I won’t, as funny as that would be.”

“N-No, it’s not even that, it’s…” You lower your head and voice. “I haven’t told my family I like men yet.”

At that admission and your obvious discomfort, almost shame, the hilarity of the situation fades. A feeling of almost guilt starts to build in Pantalone when he looks at you. He would normally find and revel in the schadenfreude of this sort of situation, but given the new context, Pantalone can recognize a crossed boundary and general invasion of privacy.

He grips the doorknob. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

The door shuts behind Pantalone, leaving you alone in your study. In the quiet of the room, you’re left with your thoughts, and the bizarre reality of what just happened actually sinks in. A Fatui Harbinger just walked into your study and found your gay smut.

You push your typewriter forward so you don’t hit it when you smack your head against your desk to keep yourself from yelling.

[irondad-defensesquad]

My Irondad fic recs!

I thought of doing this because why not? Admittedly, I'm not reading as much fanfiction as I did a couple years ago, but some fics have changed my life entirely. In case I forgot one, I'll add it later!

I would’ve organized this in a bullet list, but Tumblr hates me and invented a character limit for that. So this is going to be long and will be under the cut. Anyway, let’s do this!

Rare and Sweet As Cherry Wine by loubuttons – I've mentioned this one before, but this fic right here was what inspired me to write my own Irondad works. One very particular detail I like about it is how it portrays Maria, Tony's mother. It's not what I usually see in other fics about Tony's childhood, since they tend to make Howard the big bad parent. Of course, this is because I personally related to it, as I don't believe in the "bad parent vs. good parent". I also like that it praises Edwin Jarvis as the one who looked out for Tony the most. It's pretty realistic and a very melancholic character study, IMO. *TW for abuse and neglect*

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea – a very short fic but I absolutely love the premise. Takes place after the big battle in Iron Man 2, and Tony finds little Peter again. They have a very endearing interaction. The following chapter is also very cute!

Nothing like a fresh cup of humiliation in the morning by madasthesea – Pure fluff! This one is probably a classic in the Irondad fandom. Tony kisses Peter's forehead without second thought. Shenanigans ensue. It's so adorable and funny. If you just want to read fluff without angst, this one is for you.

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by madasthesea - I think I heard about this fic thanks to @/irondadfics here on Tumblr, but I might be wrong since I already knew the Nice work, kid series. Anyway, Peter is believed to be dead, so Tony (and the rest of the Avengers team) is mourning him. In reality, Peter is astral projecting. You know, sort of like how Stephen Strange, in his first movie, was fighting a guy in the other dimension while his body on Earth was struggling to live. That's basically what happens. Strange appears, of course, and saves the day. And I pretty much LOVE the presumed dead trope. I don't know why. Maybe it's the angst of it all. *TW for grief/mourning and temporary character death*

The Reason by doctornineandthreequarters – I think I read this one when I was still writing Oh, take me back to the start. I was looking for fics for inspiration, and I found this one. During the Time Heist in Endgame, Tony remembers the reason he's fighting to bring everyone else back. It's very emotional.

Couch Cuddles by happyaspie – Classic sickfic, but with more fluff than anything. I like rereading it when I feel lonely and touch-starved, especially when I'm also sick like Peter.

You’re So Much Like Me (I’m Sorry) by SpaceCowboysFromMars – Irondad + Miles Morales! Peter is an adult in this, and he freaks out when an injured Miles arrives in his apartment. Tony gives him some wisdom about mentoring and parenting. I don’t usually find Irondad stories featuring Miles (and not necessarily a Spider-Verse crossover), so this was a nice discovery. Peter & Miles & Tony is a very underrated trio IMO. *TW for slight gore*

I'm Glad I Have You by punkybunny – Peter has been having a rough time, dealing with loneliness as Aunt May is not home often, and with bullying at school... until he finally has the chance to spend time with Tony. However, the demons don't disappear completely. Obviously, more Hurt/Comfort, lmao. *TW for nightmare/bad dream*

I Want to Trust You by punkybunny – Actually part of a series that, admittedly, I haven't read all the other stories. But even this one is a very interesting concept on its own. This is a Hydra Peter AU, after Peter has been rescued. He gets sick but given his past in Hydra, he thinks Tony is going to get angry. Peter is proven wrong when Tony helps him get better. The ending is very adorable. I'll see if I can read the rest of the series one day. *TW for past abuse and experimentation*

what you think I've done wrong by ironxprince – I don't often read Biodad stories as you all know, but I was, again, looking for inspiration for You keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I stumbled across this one. Basically Peter, as Tony's biological son, finally meets Howard. It goes as well as you think /sarcasm. *TW for physical abuse*

i, in time, will climb my mountain by ironxprince – This one is heavy. Once again, Peter is Tony's bio son, and he's suicidal. Every time Peter attempts suicide, he buys a new plant. Tony doesn't know this, so he's confused as to why there are so many plants in their house. I love this one, but of course, I try to read it when I’m not having a really bad day. *Once again, TW for suicide attempts*

how do you get that lonely (and nobody knows?) by parkrstark – Yeah... another heavy one. Peter attempts suicide but he saves himself before he reaches the ground. With that, he goes to Tony. This ends happily, don't worry. *TW for suicide attempt*

When You Can't Sleep by Emily_F6 – Pretty much Tony comforting a sleepy Peter, who has just had a nightmare about Thanos. Just Hurt/Comfort and domestic fluff. *TW for mention of death*

i get by (but it's eating me alive) by Livinei – Honestly, I think this is the BEST May's Abusive Boyfriend story I've ever read. For one, none of the characters are oblivious nor dismissive of Peter's feelings. May isn't neglectful and Ned actually tries to encourage Peter to tell someone. I also like that Peter isn't completely helpless. I don't usually see those things in other fics with this trope, sadly. And of course, Protective Tony is my weakness. *TW for emotional and physical abuse*

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea – Post-Endgame where Tony is alive, and Peter and Tony are both trying to cope, so they rely on each other. Pure Hurt/Comfort.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum – Possibly one of my favorite Irondad stories EVER. Also post-Endgame with Alive Tony (though the author better explains it in the notes, it's supposed to be part of a series, but this story can be read on its own). There are a lot of references to Charlotte's Web if you're familiar with it. Basically, it's Father's Day and Peter is feeling guilty and out of place at Tony's lake house, even though everyone is readily trying to include him. It's absolutely beautiful and painful.

Hug You I Must by spiderwriting (catch_you_later) – Probably one of the first touch-starved Peter fics I've read. I like how it describes touch-starvation as this "itchy" current in your body, something that makes you anxious. Thankfully, Peter gets his hug later on. Plus there are some Star Wars references (the title probably is one, lol). *There's some minor violence here when Peter is fighting off some bad guys, but not the focus of the fic*

When You're There With No One There To Hold, I'll Be The Arms That Reach For You by Squibbles94 – Another touch-starved Peter fic. But I really like the references to Cast Away. Ironically I saw this movie in the same year the author published this fic (dare I say SHORTLY after it was posted). I also had no idea that Cast Away was entirely about isolation. Gosh, the main character's monologue at the end ALWAYS gets to me... anyway, yeah, the peak of the pandemic was awful to me, so reading fics like this one helped tons. It still does.

I am cold by N/A (orphan account) – Peter tries to visit Tony, but he gets lost in a subway tunnel on a freezing day. Eventually we learn why Peter wanted to see Tony, but overall this is mainly domestic fluff. Everything ends well.

Sorry Pedro by PinkEasterEggs – One of the first Irondad fics I read. Peter has a nightmare about Homecoming (mainly Toomes), but he avoids waking Tony for that reason. But thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y's protocols, Peter goes to his mentor. Tony is also super soft here and it makes my heart swoon.

you are enough by diaz_evan – Another post-Endgame fic. Arguably I began reading Irondad fics only after Endgame released. Anyway, this one is short, kinda sad but it ends well. It’s Tony’s birthday and Peter feels very anxious about what to get him as a present. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to prove his love for Tony. *TW for panic attack*

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Stark by downeylove – There are a lot of Father’s Day fics for these two, of course, but this one takes the cake for me. It’s simple but very endearing to me. Tony obviously doesn’t have good memories of this day, but Peter changes that for the first time. It’s really cute. Plus, Pepper is here, and I love her. I wish I could read more of her interacting with Peter. *TW for mentions of alcoholism and past child abuse*

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling… And The One Time He Did by Bladam_Shevine – Again, an old fic I read years ago. I admit I haven’t re-read it in a while, but I remember enjoying it and even saving it to read offline. It’s basically what it says in the title: Peter struggles in many ways and he initially refuses help. Tony is always there to reassure him he can count on him. Bruce is here if you like him! And MJ helps Peter on one of the chapters as well. The chapters might get heavier as they go, but it ends on a hopeful note. *TW for injury, panic attack, suicide attempt (it doesn’t involve Peter), and depression*

The Good Days and the Bad by SoupGirlLovesSoup - Peter has had a bad day, now he's cuddling with Tony. It takes a while before Peter finally tells him what happened. It gets sad, but it's mostly fluff and it ends hopefully. I love re-reading it when I need the comfort. *TW for mention of suicide attempt, depression, and bullying*

Breathe Again by gwenoakley - Post-Endgame where Tony survives. He's recovering in the hospital and Peter finally reunites with him. Before that, though, we can feel the anxiety and trauma Peter feels. Definitely makes me emotional. It's the ending they deserved.

Popsicles and Playgrounds by ironfamjam - I can't believe I forgot to save this one in my bookmarks. I used to re-read this all the time! It's an AU where MIT student Tony meets a kid Peter. Eventually, Tony becomes Peter's babysitter! This is part of a series, which I still have to read fully. It's such a wholesome idea!! <3 *Howard's bad parenting is mostly mentioned*

Well, for now this is it! Again, I might add more fics here. I think I also could make a list of what particular concepts I want to read more in Irondad stories, so maybe you guys could give me your own recs. I might try to resume my habit of reading Irondad fics, because they give me a lot of comfort. Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoy any of the stories I included.

(I'm aware some authors here have their accounts on Tumblr, but I didn't want to annoy anyone by tagging them, so yeah 😅)

EDIT (June 4th, 2024): What Irondad fics I would like to read!

[hyunjinspark]

star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 15

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him.

there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au (kind of), star-crossed lovers

warnings: cursing, mature content, fancy drinking, mutual pining, sexual tension, so much angst, kissing, making out, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, dry humping, dom!hyunjin, jealousy, more angst

word count: 35K (ik the wc makes it feel v long but it’s really not that much haha)

a/n: im so excited to be coming back with this huge of a chapter for you guys. so much goes down and im insanely excited to share this next phase of my story with you. its v long so pls get comfortable with a blanket and snacks. I would recommend rereading the last chapter, if you can! thank you for still being here.

i recommend that you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

He had fucked up. Even in the dimly lit drive-in theatre, the guilt on his face was evident. Hyunjin had never looked this devastated.

“I need to talk to you” 

That’s what he had said. The gnawing feeling in your gut got worse. Those words together, in that order, was never a good sign. You knew as much, and you knew whatever he had to tell you was going to be something bad.

“Why did you leave in the middle of the film?” You asked, gaze darting between him and your friends.

Yuqi was staring wide-eyed, watching this unfold, soda cup clutched in her hands, and Felix…he looked beyond irritated.

The movie could still be heard all the way over here. You weren’t too far from the projection screen, and the speakers were right next to you. It was a horrible place to be having this conversation, but you couldn’t wait. 

What was he holding back?

You’d always felt the safest around Hyunjin, but every breath between you right now was uncertain. He was fidgeting, sliding the silver ring off and on his finger.

“I was on my way back to you when—” Hyunjin paused, and the veins in his neck were prominent as he strained to be heard over the movie, “—when Felix found me. He wanted to talk”

“Is Jisung okay?” You blurted, the first thing that came to your mind. He was nervous as hell, and that freaked you out.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, “No, he’s okay”

“Look. Y/N—“ Felix started, stepping ahead.

“Can I please just talk to Y/N…alone?” Hyunjin interrupted, turning to your friends. His frustration was new to you.

“Of course. Now you wanna talk to her” Felix scoffed, and your gaze drifted to him. You felt so out of the loop and everything was far too dramatic.

A laugh escaped you at the absurdity of this situation, “What is going on? You guys are acting like the world’s fucking ending or something”

“I’m sure it’s not that serious” Yuqi piped in, as a way to comfort you, and Felix glanced at her in disdain.

Hyunjin seemed to be physically struggling between appeasing you and Felix, but he focused his gaze on you.

“It’s not” He reaffirmed, pausing to breathe, “Obviously. It’s not… that serious”

“You sure?” Felix mumbled, taunting the situation, and you’d never known Felix to be the one to poke a bear with a stick. 

His presence only added to your confusion and annoyance. 

What was he doing here? 

Hadn’t he just told you he couldn’t be friends with you anymore? Or whatever the hell he was going to say before you were interrupted?

You glanced at him, and the anger from your previous unresolved conversation surged back, “Lix. Can you just give us a moment alone, please?”

His eyes locked with yours in silent agreement, “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want, Y/N”

“Yeonjun’s gonna be worried as hell about us” Yuqi spoke in a harsh whisper, grabbing him lightly by the forearm to lead him away, and even though you were embarrassed to have an audience, you were glad she was here.

You’d dragged everyone to the drive-in theatre tonight for the Jaws screening because it had seemed, at the moment, like a good idea. It was supposed to be one of the things on your bucket list. The list Hyunjin and you had made together.

A list of things to make you fall in love with your little town again, and you were only doing all of this because Hyunjin insisted. A silly excuse to be by his side, but it had worked. You’d seen the film they were playing tonight a dozen times, so yeah, you were only doing this so you could spend more time with him. 

Right now though, it didn’t seem like the greatest idea, and more like the culmination of a really bad plan. 

A confrontation you didn’t want. 

Knowing Hyunjin, he hated confrontations too. 

So, there must be a really fucking good reason why he was arguing with your best friend just now.

Felix mumbled something as they walked away, too quiet for you to catch amongst the sounds of the film. 

A cold breeze picked up.

The blinking yellow sign above you was malfunctioning, a buzzing sound escaping it, distracting you momentarily until Hyunjin’s face came into focus again.

He was so apprehensive, a concerned frown on his face. Guilty was not a good look on him.

You swallowed your anxieties, raising your voice louder, “Can you just please tell me what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out here”

“Nothing is going on like that, I promise. It’s just…Yongbok found something out and freaked out about it. He was upset at me but—”

“What did he find out?” You were impatient.

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed, “He saw me earlier…at the station”

It took you a second to put two and two together.

“The train station…? What were you doing there?”

His eyes darted around the driveway, realising that this was probably the worst place to be having any kind of conversation. The noise of the horror film had drowned the two of you out.

“Can we go somewhere else? Where it’s quieter, please?” 

You didn’t think you had the patience. Your stomach turned every second that he didn’t tell you what was wrong. 

“Please?” He asked again, “I’ll tell you everything. I just want to get away from here”

What was so complex that he couldn’t just say it now?

It felt like a break-up except you and him weren’t even fucking dating.

Your gaze flickered over his face, frown lines on his forehead that didn’t suit him, and it was only now that you noticed the bags under his eyes. He hadn’t slept last night. He was too young to be so worried.

“Yeah, of course”

There was relief on his face at your agreement, shoulders relaxing, and he looked around.

The theater was in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Where would you even go?

Worry returned to his face, and you sighed, “There’s a loading dock, like a few minutes from here. It’ll be quieter there”

He nodded, following closely behind you as you led the way. 

You focused on the sound of your footsteps in the dirt to not completely freak out.

“Is everything with Chan fine?” You ended up asking.

“Yeah, he’s fine too” He fell quiet again, “I’m sorry you’re missing the movie because of me”

The noises got muffled as you moved further away.

“I really don’t care” You told him, “I’ve seen it before”

“Oh, okay”

You stopped at a chain-link fence, leading to a loading dock for various trucks and vans. It was dead right now, but it'd be brimming with life in the early hours of the day. 

“This is quiet enough”

This was also as far as your patience could go.

Hyunjin nodded, leaning his weight against the fence, running a hand through his hair, “I guess”

Another round of screams from the audience echoed through the area, and you shrugged, “Guess not”

He didn’t seem amused though, “They’re so loud”

“It is the best part of the movie” You told him, “They finally defeat the shark”

Hyunjin nodded, as if he’d forgotten what the movie Jaws was even about, “Right”

He looked like a wounded animal, afraid you’d get mad at him, but you didn’t even understand what you should be mad about. 

His hand peeked out from under his button-up sleeve. You reached forward, not thinking before slipping your fingers between his.

The gesture surprised him, and he glanced up at you with big eyes. He squeezed your hand, finding comfort in it.

“I was buying a ticket back”

You frowned, asking a question you already knew the answer to, “Back to?”

His breaths were shallow, in uneven intervals and his shoulders rose and fell with each anxious inhale and exhale. 

“Seoul” He clarified, biting his bottom lip. 

“Oh. Isn’t…it too early?” 

His gaze fell, eyes avoiding yours, “I was trying to tell you earlier, but I didn’t get the chance”

“Tell me now” You tilt his head up, fingers under his chin so he could look right at you.

He took in another deep breath, eyes staring into yours, “I…have to leave, Y/N. I have to move back to the city”

The words didn’t shock you.

That’s it?

You knew he had to leave. 

A weight lift off your chest at the familiarity of his confession, and you could breathe again, “Yeah. I…know that, Hyunjin”

His eyes widened, “You do?”

Your fingers settled on his jaw, to calm him, “I mean, I know that you can’t stay here forever. You were only here for the summer anyway”

Relief swirled his eyes at your calmness, “Um…yeah”

It felt anticlimactic. This was why he was so nervous, why Felix was so mad, why they were fighting?

You two stood so close, hand-in-hand, and this didn’t even seem like a big deal. Hyunjin wasn’t going to be holed up in this small town forever. Everybody knew it would always be temporary, so what was the drama for?

A breeze blew Hyunjin’s hair in his face, and you tucked the chestnut strands behind his ear, “Would you have to start packing soon?”

With that question, Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed again, “I already packed, Y/N”

“Already?” You laughed, there was a whole month left but he was already preparing, “You should’ve told me…I could’ve helped you.”

He frowned, and suddenly your name on his lips felt bitter, “Y/N…” 

Like it took effort to say, and like it broke his heart.

It felt like an apology, but you didn’t know what for.

You squeezed his hand, to let him know he had nothing to be sorry for, “Tell me…”

“No, you don’t understand. I’m — I’m not staying for the rest of the summer anymore”

Your heart squeezed, and suddenly you realised why he was so anxious. 

You needed confirmation, “You’re not?”

“I need to leave” He let out a breath, “Tonight.”

The words hit you like a punch to your gut.

Hyunjin explained further, to make sure you understood, but your head was already spinning, “My train leaves for Seoul… in a few hours” 

Your grip on his hand dropped, and you stopped touching him.

He stared at you for what felt like forever, eyes flickering between yours, “I’m sorry”

He’s sorry?

You had trouble speaking the words, “What? Tonight?”

His eyes were wide at your reaction, and at your tone. He thought you didn’t believe him.

And you didn’t.

Tonight was so soon, and in a few hours was fucking insane.

As you processed his words, the silence stretched for seconds, excruciatingly long.

He felt a stupid need to fill in the void, “My manager’s coming to pick me up. He doesn’t want me to make the journey back alone. He’s worried about a crowd at the station, in case the information leaked—”

Hyunjin kept talking, and explaining, but you’d stopped listening.

What the fuck was he even saying?

All of these technicalities.

You couldn’t even still process what he’d told you.

Yeah, you knew he had to leave but you didn’t think it’d be tonight. 

You didn’t think it’d be right now.

You weren’t prepared.

Each word he spoke was a lightning bolt to your heart, ripping chasms open in the perfect day you’d just had. 

It couldn’t be. You had so much planned with him. You hadn’t even gotten to the good part yet.

The sky lit up in bright white, blinding you.

You hadn’t even told him that you loved him...

The wind picked up, dust blowing into your eyes but you didn’t care. The lightning wasn’t just within you. There was a storm coming.

Hyunjin glanced up at the sky; dark clouds suddenly looming over you, but that was the least of your worries. 

“We should get inside” He realised, reaching for your hand, but you stepped away from him, pulling your hand out of reach.

His eyes were wide at the rejection.

“I’m sorry. You said that you’re leaving in a few hours?” You asked again, hoping this was just a horrible fucking joke, and you heard him wrong.

But he fucking nodded, not saying anything. 

Your stomach was beginning to hurt, a shooting pain through your body, and you felt dizzy.

Bile rose up to your throat at the suddenness of everything, “I don’t understand. You said you didn’t have to go back, not until the end of summer and—”

“I know” He interrupted, “I know that’s what I said, but things changed. The company needs me back, I don’t have much of a choice”

“But what about Kkami…and about the art classes?” Stupid questions, when all you wanted to ask was something else. 

“I canceled the classes yesterday, and Minho said he’ll look after Kkami until my aunt comes back to town”

Of course.

“Oh”

Of course he’d figured everything out. A man as precise as Hyunjin, of course he’d already solved for all the problems you couldn’t even foresee.

But what about you?

Your gaze fell from his, heart falling deep into your gut and maybe that explained the pain in you. You didn’t even know what to say. It was so much information, to process all at once, and pathetically, you mumbled, “I thought I’d have more time with you”

“I know, Y/N. I...thought so too” His voice was too soft, too calm, “But I’m sorry that we don’t”

Was he not affected by this? Why was he so calm?

In a few hours, he would be more than a hundred miles away from you.

That wasn’t okay.

But he seemed perfectly fine right now.

How long had he known this?

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before” He swallowed, and stepped closer. His hands glided up your arms, coming to rest at your shoulders. He squeezed the skin there, and maybe he thought it was comforting, but it just felt suffocating.

Your chest was pounding so hard you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

You were still confused, so many questions in your head, “But that doesn’t explain why Felix was fighting with you”

Hyunjin sighed, “He…he thought that I wasn’t going to tell you”

There it was.

Your eyes narrowed, darting up to his, a new fear sinking into you, something you hadn’t even considered, “Wait. Were you not?”

His eyes widened, but his voice gave him away, “No. I was going to—”

You took another step back, and he dropped his hands from you.

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye, Hyunjin?”

He hesitated before speaking, “I was”

“When?”

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me? If you’ve already bought a ticket. You’ve already cancelled the classes. You’ve…packed everything. You’ve already given Kkami away. So, when…were you going to tell me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

And it was enough.

“You’re fucking kidding me”

“Let me explain, please--”

Another flash lit up the sky.

Thunder ripped through the atmosphere, and the sound startled you both, making you look up.

It wasn’t raining, not yet, but it would soon.

Immediately, you heard scrambling over at the drive-in theatre. All of the people would be exposed to the rain, and now they’d have to pack it up, and leave.

How fitting for a storm to pass through right fucking now.

You looked back at him, because this wasn’t like him.

The Hyunjin you’d come to know…would never blindside you like this.

You stepped further away, your sneakers tripping over the dirt and Hyunjin reached out to steady you, but you ripped your arm back, “You were just going to leave”

“I tried telling you yesterday, in the forest! You were the first person I was going to tell” Hyunjin exclaimed, eyes wide in what you could only recognise as despair.

In the forest, when you’d taken him to see the fireflies. Hyunjin had said he wanted to tell you something. He was trying to tell you this?

Sourness developed in your mouth, “What? Yesterday?”

“But you stopped me. You kissed me, and you said you didn’t want to know”

Your sadness was suddenly replaced by embarrassment, and bitterness.

“So…it’s my fault?”

“What? Of course not. That’s not what I’m saying”

Your emotions were toppling over, and you couldn’t manoeuvre them anymore.

You felt a surge of hopelessness, because he didn’t understand how important this was to you.

How important he was.

“If it was so important, you should have told me anyway! I obviously would have understood, and stopped kissing you. I’m not that dense, or …needy”

Hyunjin’s eyes were wide, like he couldn’t believe you.

“I know that you’re not. Of course, you’re not” He repeated, stepping towards you, “I knew how upset it would make you, and I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to ruin the time we had left”

There was no justifiable reason for you to be this sad. He was only going to be a few hours away from here, but you’d dreaded the day he’d leave ever since you met him.

His life in the city was a whirlwind, and he didn’t have time for anything.

How would you ever stay in his life, or keep him in yours?

Your voice was shaky, “I’m not upset at you, Hyunjin”

“Really? Because it looks like you hate me right now” He laughed.

You sighed, looking him in the eye, “Of course not”

“I just don’t understand why I’m the last to know. You said that your manager is coming to pick you up…and you’re worried the information would leak. So does everybody know you’re coming back or something?”

He nodded slightly, as if his answer would hurt you, “The media knows. There’s going to be a crowd at the station, in the city when I get back”

So if you waited a few more hours…the morning papers would have told you anyway.

The thought almost made you want to laugh, or cry.

“We were having such a good time, at the Creek, and…I didn’t want to kill the mood, obviously I was right, because you’re so upset right now”

“Right. I’m sorry for being upset that you’re leaving Hyunjin”

He pulled you towards him, “Stop, please. This is…not how I wanted tonight to go”

“Then how did you want it to go?”

“I wanted to…stay up with you, and talk to you, and listen to you...until I can”

It sounded tempting. You’d do anything to have that.

But he was leaving tonight.

“Do you know when you’ll come back?”

“What?”

“To Daejon. Do you know when you’ll come back?”

He hesitated, “I don’t know. A couple of years, maybe then…”

“So after tonight…you have no idea when we’ll see each other again?”

“Yeah, but…you can visit me in Seoul, right?” He asked, a hopeful lilt to his tone.

Your head was still spinning, “Were you going to stay in touch with me?”

“Yeah. I was going to give you my new number—”

“Your new number?” You were confused.

“I have to change it…every few months. For safety”

Another lightning flash lit up his face, and then the first drops of rain followed. They wet your hair, dripping down your face, masquerading as tears.

“Yeonjun would be wondering where I am”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, but you needed to fixate on something else or you’d go insane.

“I have to tell him” You mumbled, more to yourself, reaching for your phone in your back pocket, but you’d left it back in the truck. A frustrated groan escaped you.

“I can tell him” Hyunjin spoke, immediately, pulling his phone out to text him. You watched as he did so. The bright phone lit up his face, as he typed in a text, but from here, you could see his fingers trembling.

The vendors were rushing to close all the food shops before the rain came in. The sound of people scrambling with their blankets and snacks to get inside. Car doors being shut, and engines being started.

“Please just let me explain, so you can understand what’s going on in my head”

You needed to calm down. This was always going to happen, and you shouldn’t be surprised. You shouldn’t be heartbroken and so fucking weak. 

You nodded, “Go ahead”

He grabbed your hand in urgency but you didn’t stop him, “I knew how upset it would make you, and I’m so fucking sorry. I knew the moment that I told you, it would be real, and is it crazy if I wanted the summer to last longer? I was being selfish and I wasn’t thinking”

You took a deep breath, his words calming you down by the second, “It’s not selfish. I..I’m sorry. I just thought you were hiding it from me, and…I got upset. How long have you known?”

“Barely two days” He admitted, and then, “That’s kind of why I was rushing through your list”

A laugh escaped you, at the lost innocence of that sentence, “What? My list is not… important, Hyunjin”

He frowned, “It was to me…”

The cold water draped over your forehead, dripping down your eyes, tracing your nose, falling into your mouth. You should be sane, and walk out of this storm before you both fell sick. Hyunjin was just watching you, and you think his heart was broken too. For a reason different to yours.

“A few hours…” You realised, and you were already losing time.

He squeezed your hand, “If you would let me, I’d like to spend them with you”

The rain intensified, transforming into a downpour, drowning out the last of his sentence. Everybody must have left the drive-in theater by now and that meant it was just you and him in the middle of this summer storm.

You felt like a broken record, “I wish I knew”

“Why?” He bent down to your height, voice softening, “It…wouldn’t have changed anything”

You took in a deep breath. He was right.

It wouldn’t have changed anything.

His eyes were exploring yours, apologetic, and you could understand what went on in his head. If you could spare Hyunjin the pain of something sad, you would have done the same.

He was getting drenched in the storm, and you’d feel guilty if he fell sick because of you, “Are you okay?” He asked you.

You suddenly felt numb. 

Why shouldn’t you be okay?

“I’ll only be a few hours away from you” He reassured you, and then chuckled softly, “It’s not like I’m moving to another country”

A loud honk pulled you out of the conversation.

Yuqi’s truck was to the side, parked on the dirt road, and Yeonjun was poking his head out of the window, “What the hell are you two still doing out there?”

You looked back at Hyunjin, swallowing, “We should go”

“Come on” He spoke, guiding you towards the car with his hand on your back. You rushed inside, arms around yourself to be warm. He went around the back, getting in through the other side, and he was completely soaked, hair dripping, “Sorry for getting your seats wet, Yuqi”

She told him it was fine, and Yeonjun turned round to ask, “Am I taking you straight home then, Y/N?”

Yuqi gave you a sympathetic look in the rearview mirror. Felix must have told her what the argument had been about.

You glanced at Hyunjin. He thought you were angry at him. Well, you were a bit. But never enough to ignore him like this. This was his last night here. Everything felt so sudden, and rushed, and you weren’t sure you’d even understood it, but you had be mature about this.

“No, I’m…not going home” You told Yeonjun.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows, as if to ask if you were sure.

He was crazy if he thought you’d let him go without even saying goodbye.

“Can I come to your place?”

He nodded, in a single breath answering, “Of course”

Every second spent arguing over this was one less second with him. Yeonjun drove away from the loading dock, and time was slipping away and you glanced at Hyunjin. He was looking out at the town as it passed by, and he looked so fucking lost…or nostalgic.

Daejon passed by in a blur, as you drove to his house.

It would be selfish of you to think you were the only one affected by this. He was the one who would have to go back the life he’d left behind.

You drove past Aera’s, and Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on it, long after you’d already passed it. The car ride was quiet, other than the music Yuqi was playing, but you’d tuned it out.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows were furrowed as he watched the blur of trees and homes and places you’d come to spend all of your time in this summer. It was like he was trying to take everything in but Yeonjun drove faster than his memories could catch up.

His hand was on his thigh, fingers trembling still, and you don’t know if it was from the cold or if he was scared. 

Your heart squeezed in your chest. 

You reached over without thinking, hand settling over his, and immediately, he was calm.

»»————-

Hyunjin’s room was ripped bare. 

The art had been taken off the walls, the paint canisters had been stashed out of sight, the mattress was naked of the blue sheets and comforter you’d grown to love.

Cardboard boxes lay under his window, taped up and sealed shut.

His art wasn’t decorating the room anymore, instead it lay packed under layers of bubble wrap and paper.

It was strange, because you’d only been here a few times, enough to count on one hand, but it felt like a loss. Empty rooms always made you sad. It signified the end of something.

Yeonjun’s room had stayed empty, and even when he visited home, he’d live out of his suitcase. After all, nobody took the time to hang back picture frames on the walls. 

Your gut tinged with sadness.

Hyunjin stood at the other side of the room, arms crossed, emanating a calm silence.

Your eyes met his, a strange resignation within them. You hugged yourself, arms coming round your body in a comforting embrace. 

The room was far too barren for your liking, but compared to outside, at least it was warm here.

With difficulty you found the words, “How does it feel? To see your room like this?”

He cleared his throat, and his hair was still wet, chestnut strands sticking to his skin, “Honestly?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t feel anything”

Maybe that was the saddest answer you could hear. 

Your indignant look made him clarify further.

His Adam’s apple bobbed before he spoke, “I…I know that’s weird. I thought I’d be sad, but I don’t really feel anything”  

“I get that” You nodded, leaning against the wall, movements mirroring his. 

“You do?” He tilt his head, fiddling with the pendant around his neck.

You did get him, but you can’t seem to elaborate.

After all, you’ve never had to deal with anything of this nature. 

You’ve lived in the same place your whole life. The same room. The same bed. The same view from your window every morning and night.

How could you know what goodbyes felt like?

“I thought I’d be sadder” He continues upon your silence, “I just don’t feel much of anything, and that makes me…feel sad. Shouldn’t I be just a little upset?”

“Maybe you haven’t processed it yet?” You offered.

He shook his head, frown lines on his forehead, “It’s not that”

You couldn’t comprehend what he felt, and all you could do was guess, “Maybe it’s too soon” 

His eyebrows shot up, as if he realised something utterly significant about himself. Yet he didn’t share it with you. He slipped his hands deeper into his pockets, adjusting his posture against the wall.

A black suitcase stood between you, and you wonder what he’d put in it. What was he taking with him? It was strange to imagine that his entire summer here had fit into just those four cardboard boxes. There must have been things he discarded, or gave away.

What did he leave behind?

“So…how will you take all this stuff back?” You asked, gesturing over to the boxes.

“I’m not. I’m just taking my luggage with me” He explained, “I just packed everything else so it’d be easier for my aunt to take care of the house when I’m gone”

When he’s gone.

“That’s thoughtful of you” You smiled, gazing at the other boxes pushed under his bed, “What about your art supplies? Are you taking them too?”

He shook his head, chuckling nervously, “No, I had no space in my bag”

Your eyebrows shot up, “How are you going to paint when you’re in the city then?”

“I doubt I’ll have time at first” He admit.

Your heart clenched. Another loss.

“But…when I do, I’ll just get new supplies” He continued, so simply.

Your eyes narrowed, “Hwang Hyunjin… do you have any idea how expensive art supplies are?”

A hint of a smile appeared on his face, “I know, but I have no choice. There’s an art shop in Hongdae. I’ve passed it a hundred times. I think I’ll finally visit it”

“You’re going to forget all about Aera’s then” You frowned.

He hummed, smiling at you, “I could never”

You smiled, and a comfortable silence fell upon you.

He moved across his room to sit against the desk, “I am kind of sad about putting away all my art though. They’re just going to collect dust forever”

“Maybe you can put them back up when you come back” You suggested.

He nodded, “Right. When I’m back.”

He traced a hand against his empty desk. Just a few days ago, it was full of clutter, flower vases, and pretty candles, and pencils of different sizes. The first night he’d come to Aera’s he’d bought a little canvas and a single pencil from you.

That was so long ago, and you smiled to yourself at the memory.

“You’re really not going to miss home, and your room?” 

“I have something of yours” He interrupted, ignoring your questions entirely.

“Oh…okay” Is all you can seem to muster.

He pulled open the drawers, and you move towards him. He’d cleared out everything from within them too. Including all his paint supplies, his knick-knacks, the hair ties… and that box of condoms you saw once…

Was he leaving that behind?

Or had he packed that too?

Maybe it’d be useful to him in the city.

The thought made you choke up, and you turned away, giving him space to look for whatever he was looking for. 

He finally pulled open the last drawer, and spoke, “I found it when cleaning, and uh, I don’t know how but I forgot to return it,”

You stepped forward to take a glimpse, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“My sketchbook!” You realised, recognising the torn-up leather cover. 

Pulling it out, you flipped it open, seeing the sketches you made on countless train journeys, “Honestly…I didn’t even know you have this”

Hyunjin laughed, and your gaze darted to his.

It was the first he’d laughed like this since he’d told you he was leaving.

“I promise I didn’t steal it or anything” He admitted, “You never took it back after Felix’s birthday”

“That was ages ago. I guess I have far too many sketchbooks to keep count” You hummed, flipping further through the book, seeing the drawings Hyunjin had filled it with on the journey, when you’d given it to him. You felt him move closer to you, body stopping right behind yours.

You traced your fingers against the ink, trying not to get distracted by his breathing on your neck, “The beach cabin. You drew it”

Hyunjin nodded, looking over your shoulder at the picture, “I did. That was…a good night”

You craned your neck to look at him, a laugh escaping, “Really? I felt kind of bad for dragging you along for that whole trip. Ended up being pretty shitty”

He smiled, eyes flickering over you, “Not all of it”

You flipped to another page, but Hyunjin’s hand reached out to stop you. You looked at him questioningly.

“Uh…you can go through that later. We don’t have much time”

You nodded, keeping it aside. He walked over, sitting on the mattress, and stared out through the window. It was still raining fiercely, a thunderstorm raging outside.

 “If it wasn’t raining, we could have gone stargazing” He realised.

The disappointed in his tone pulled at your heartstrings, “Maybe it’ll pass soon”

He shook his head, “No, I checked — It’s going to be cloudy till noon tomorrow. I’ll already be gone by then”

“Oh”

It was hard to put his words into comprehension. 

He was really going to be gone. 

You’d gotten so used to seeing him all the time, everywhere. He would show up at your job, and he would go around town with you, and a part of you felt like he’d always be here to do that.

After a while, he sighed, “I guess I was looking forward to doing something cool with you…before I have to leave”

You stared at the rain, the droplets trailing down his windowsill, racing to the bottom, “This could be nice too. It hasn’t rained like this in months”

He nodded in silent agreement, and you watched the downpour, quietly, stealing glances at him. There was a sense of awkwardness and emptiness in the air. 

He wasn’t being honest with you about everything, but you didn’t want to push. It felt like he was holding back yet again, and you wish he’d just tell you everything on his mind.

Flashes of lightning lit up his face every few minutes, and he looked out at the dark garden like it held all the answers to life, and the universe. 

“Hyunjin…” You spoke.

He glanced at you, and his eyes looked sad. 

You were counting down the fleeting moments left with him. Was he too?

It broke your heart. Why was he so quiet when you only had a few hours together?

You couldn’t push him, but each second mattered.

So you walked over to him, kneeling on the floor so you could look at him, “What’s wrong?”

His eyes darted between yours, lips parted, as he thought over your question.

“I don’t know” His voice quivered.

You placed a hand on his leg, to ground him, “You wanted me to come over”

He swallowed, “I did”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be alone right now”

“You’re not” You assured him, patting lightly on his knee, “What are you thinking about?”

“Shouldn’t I feel sad?” He asked, “Something has to be wrong with me”

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“You asked me earlier if I will miss Daejon, but I only feel numb. I cried when I left Seoul, but why do I feel nothing leaving here?”

His words were heavy, and you don’t know if you were qualified to answer him, because you were too emotionally invested in this, and in him.

“Maybe you haven’t processed it yet”

He looked back at the garden, fence, and skies, “Yeah, I can’t believe I’m going to be back in the city tomorrow. It feels like a world apart, and I can’t really grasp leaving this”

“I mean, it is a world apart, Hyunjin”

He looked at you, “I feel like I never got the chance to settle here. It’s been so temporary. I always knew I was only here for a little while, and I can’t get myself to feel sad”

“It���s not like… an obligation, Hyun. I can’t imagine how it feels like to live two places. If you don’t feel a certain way, you can’t force it”

He nodded, quietly staring ahead at his garden.

He was stuck between two places, and two lives. He’d always told you about that. 

Even though he wasn’t sad, he didn’t seem happy either, so you said, “What are you looking forward to the most when you get back?”

“Meeting the guys” He responded, in a heartbeat, and then smiled at his own eagerness, “I’m also excited to just be able to do my job again”

“Yeah?” You asked, taking a seat next to him so you could be level with him, “Do you already have your schedule for the next few weeks?”

He nodded, “Mmh. It’s kind of crazy, but it’ll be nice to be that busy again”

You shifted closer to him, as did he, with the pouring rain in backdrop. It was isolating, but comforting, “What else?”

“Hmm?”

“What else are you excited about?”

Hyunjin’s lips pulled up into a smile, “To step into the dance studio. Man, I’ve missed that more than anything”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“When I was a trainee, I basically slept there.” He hummed, and despite the obvious hardships he hinted at, his memory came from a place of fondness and comfort.

His eyes crinkled as he remembered something else, “It’s funny. It happened so often. Our manager installed a small bench there, so I could pass out on it, instead of killing my back on the hardwood floor”

“Wow. That’s so nice of him” You smiled, watching his eyes lit up talking about his home.

“I also can’t wait to get back to the recording studio. Chan told me details about the next album. Apparently, he, uh, wants me to have a couple of my own songs on it”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, what do you mean?”

As far as you knew, all of their songs were written by his team members.

“Um” He laughed nervously, crossing his legs, “Like songs I write just by myself, and produce”

“I didn’t know you write songs” You admitted, feeling stupid. Sadness settled in your stomach, as you realised there was so much you still didn’t know much about Hyunjin. 

There was so much you wanted to know, to discover about him. 

Hyunjin laughed, “I try to, I haven’t released my own yet. The guys usually take care of that, so this will be a first…I don’t even know what I’ll write about”

“But…have you written songs before?”

He nodded, “I used to write a lot on tour, but I never really felt confident enough to release them”

Curiosity flooded you, “What kind of things do you write about?”

He laughed, “You’ll be disappointed, it’s kind of cheesy…and mainstream”

“I don’t care”

He smiled, “You’ll be the first to hear if I finish”

“Are you excited to see Chan?”

He laughed, “Insanely. Jisung and Binnie too. I can’t believe I went so long without them. Hopefully they haven’t burnt the dorm down”

He grimaced at the thought, and then laughed, “And Jisung…man, I think I’ll squeeze the life out of him when I see him, and not let go. He’s been through far too much in my absence”

“They must be missing you a lot” You spoke, watching his fond smile. 

You would miss so many moments in his life. 

Crucial moments that would redefine him as a person.

You would miss the excitement in his eyes when he reunited with the boys again. You’d miss the work he would put into the self-composed songs, and the satisfaction of his smile when he finished.

So many little and bigger moments of happiness, the kind of things that make a person. 

The next time you saw him, he’d probably be so different from who he was now. 

You would both have changed as people, grown apart from each other.

But he was smiling at everything he had to look forward to, and that’s all you wanted in the moment. For him to feel happy.

“We still have a few hours left. It’s your last night. Is there anything in particular you wanted to do?”

Hyunjin tilt his head, “I didn’t really plan for anything… I was just hoping you’d spend it with me”

He already seemed so much more relaxed, and you were glad. 

“Do you need help cleaning anything or packing up?”

He shook his head, “I think everything’s done but…we could have drinks together, if you want?”

His last night in town should be memorable.

“That sounds perfect” You smiled, getting off the bed, as you followed Hyunjin back to the kitchen. 

He had changed from his storm-drenched clothes into simple sweatpants, and they fit him well, sitting comfortably on his hips. The hoodie was also simple, and it looked soft enough to touch, like it was made from the finest wool in the country.

“What do you usually like to have, Y/N?” Hyunjin reached up to the cabinets at the very top, his height allowing him to do so with ease, “I know that you liked the rosé when we went to the paint event, and I know that you absolutely hate beer”

You laughed at the memory, jumping up to sit comfortably on the kitchen counter. Hyunjin glanced at you briefly, smiling to himself at the position, and how you’d made yourself at home.

You thought about it, but you weren’t a big cocktail drinker, so you hummed, “I’ll have anything you’ll have”

“You’re easily influenced” He laughed, “What if you hate my taste?”

You smiled at him, swinging your legs gently against the counter, “I trust you”

He made a face, “Now I have to live up to your unrealistically high expectations of me. Isn’t that too much pressure for my last night?”

You threw your hands up in defense, “You’re the one who suggested we have drinks, Hyun”

He smiled, peering at the alcohol he had in his cabinet. There wasn’t too much, since he rarely lived here, and you don’t suppose his aunt was a big drinker.

“Have you ever tried a Dolce Vita?” He asked you, the drink's name slipping from his lips so smoothly, and you guessed it was Italian from his pronunciation, but Hyunjin made it sound so expensive.

“Can’t say that I have” 

He stepped towards you, body touching your legs, but still not close enough, “I think it’s your kind of a drink”

“What makes you say that?” You tilt your head.

He thought over his words, mulling them in his head, “It’s…classy. It’s elegant, and it’s…romantic”

You stilled, watching him describe it.

 “It’s pink, and…it has dark chocolate on top” He continued, and then smiled to himself, “It fits you really well”

You smiled, heat flushing to your chest, and cheeks, “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t have all the ingredients” He spoke, a soft pout on his lips, “But I can make you another drink, that you might like”

“When did you even learn all these recipes? I didn’t know you’re a connoisseur”

He laughed, stepping back towards the cabinet to check the ingredients, “I’m not, but Chan taught me a few. He and Kairi…make their own cocktails a lot”

“I hope I can meet them one day” You spoke.

Hyunjin glanced at you over his shoulder, “You’d love Kairi. She’s…so much like you”

You thought, still swaying your legs, “Does that mean Chan would love me too?”

He chuckled, and his shoulders shook from the action, “He kind of already does”

It was still pouring outside, and you looked at the droplets cascading down the kitchen window. It was kind of nice to be trapped in this house with him. It was a big place too, and it was empty, and just the two of you. It was like you were two kids playing house. 

Hyunjin was fiddling with different liqueurs, and you could hear the clinking of glasses, and spoons as he moved things around on the counter. You would help him if you could, but you had no experience in mixology and he had it handled. It was calming, to listen to the thunder, and just sit here.

“What are you making now, Hyun?” You asked, fiddling with the cuts in your jeans.

“It’s called the Queen of Hearts”

You laughed, “I have never heard of these names. Are they just for rich people…or something?”

He tsked, shaking his head “I’m not that rich, Y/N”

“Statistically speaking, you’re…like in one of the biggest bands in our country” 

He smiled softly at you again, “How do you know that? Did you read about me online?”

“Maybe I did” You flushed, “Sometimes you show up on my Instagram. Your fans are very loyal, you know?”

He laughed, turning around to look at you, and you could see he was shaking a liquid in a glass, “I sure hope you don’t believe everything you see about me though. There’s a lot of false news out there”

“So, what, you haven’t dated like every female pop star in the country?” You teased him, exaggerating.

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the counter, to put the glass down, “Did someone actually say that I did?”

“Of course not” You smiled, “That wouldn’t be a believable rumour”

“You’d be surprised what people believe” He laughed, and then paused to say, “I’ve only ever dated one”

Your eyebrows shot up, “A pop star?”

“Yeah”

You looked at him, and you were so curious suddenly, albeit a lot of it stemmed from envy. Whoever had the honor of dating Hyunjin…did they know how lucky they were?

Was in he love with her?

Was she?

You imagined it in your head — the dates he would go on, and the kind of romantic things he would say. He was already such a nice person to you, and you two were just friends. What would he be like…with the girl that he loves?

A pit of jealousy settled in your stomach, so deep, that it ached.

“So, um, I added less liquor to yours just so you can taste it. If you like it, I can give you some more” He spoke, turning to delicately hand you the wine glass. The drink was the color of champagne. 

You peered at the drink, “What’s in it?”

He tilt his head, thinking, “It’s a bit of gin, wine, and…some lemon juice. For the sweet flavour, I added a syrup to it. It’s dahlia…I think you’ll love that”

You stared at him as he explained it, “You’re kidding me”

You reached for the glass, but he immediately pulled it back before you could.

“Wait! I forgot something”

“What?” You laughed, “What else could possibly be missing? The tears of angels?”

He rolled his eyes, “Ha-ha”

You tried to grab it, “Just give it to me. I’m sure it’s fine”

He shook his head, pulling the drink away from your hold, “No, this is the last drink I’m making you. It has to be perfect”

“It’s also the first drink you’ve made me” You pointed out.

He laughed, holding up a finger, “Give me just one minute. I’ll be back”

He placed the glass back on the countertop, and slipped his shoes on.

“Wait, what?”

“I have to run to the garden for something” He told you over his shoulder.

“But there’s a storm out” You exclaimed, dumbly.

He pulled the hood up, looking back at you as he zipped it up fully, “I’ll be fine”

“Hyunjin, don’t go” You laughed, “I’m sure the drink is fine without it”

He shook his head, and he was already halfway out the door. As soon as he pushed open the wooden door, a gust of wind blew in, bringing with it tiny leaves and some rain. The thunder was so much louder now that the door was open, and Hyunjin ran out, shoes put on halfway, and it was so silly that he was doing all this for just a drink.

You waited with bated breath, but you couldn’t see out into the garden from here, so you had no idea what he was up to.

Minutes passed, and you waited in his kitchen, sat on the countertop.

“Holy shit. It’s fucking pouring!” He yelled, running back inside, and he was completely wet, from head to toe. He slipped off his shoes at the back entrance, walking to you barefoot.

“Oh my god” You mumbled, watching the water drip off him, “I told you it was a bad idea”

His fist was closed around something, and you wonder what he got from the garden.

He grabbed your wine glass, and dropped something in it, “You’ll change your mind after you try this”

He then smiled proudly, handing it to you.

Your eyes widened, as you peered into the glass. 

A pretty flower floated on top of the gin, its pink petals wet from the liquid, giving the entire drink an illusion of a pastel paint.

“A flower?” You asked, giggling in disbelief.

“It’s edible” He explained, smiling still, “It’s perfect for you”

“Did you get one for yourself too?”

“Mmh” He nodded, showing you his. The flower floated on the top beautifully, dissolving partially into the liquid. Your drinks looked beautiful together, ethereal and completely fitting to who Hyunjin was as a person.

“Aren’t you cold?” 

“I am” He admitted, and then looked just a tad regretful, “But I packed away all my spare clothes”

“Maybe you should’ve thought this all through” You giggled.

“To be fair, I wasn’t thinking” He shrugged, “It’s fine. It’ll dry out”

He reached behind his neck, peeling off his grey hoodie. The white t-shirt he wore inside rose up with the simple action, revealing his stomach in a glimpse. Like a teenage girl, your heart jumped at the little display of skin. He tossed the hoodie to the side, and stepped closer to you.

His hair looked darker when wet, almost a shade of black, sticking to his face and his cheeks. He puffed, pushing it back behind his ears. You noticed his pendant, stuck in the front of his shirt as he stepped closer to you.

You weren’t thinking as you reached forward, grabbing the thin silver chain around his neck and tugged it out, so it fell against his chest instead.

Hyunjin was frozen still at the action, darting down to see what you were doing and then looking back up at you.

Your hand was still on the chain, and every part of you wanted to pull him closer by it, so you could kiss him. Right now didn’t seem like a good time for that though. He was feeling all kinds of emotions and vulnerability …if he wanted to kiss you tonight, he would have.

The thought of letting Hyunjin go — without feeling his lips again — hurt you, but it was a reality you’d accept. You’d been all over the place with him recently, never having defined what it meant, or why you kept making out without talking about it.

Maybe it was just a summer fling for him, because he’d made it plenty clear you two could never be anything more.

You cleared your throat, dropping your hand, “Now, can we try the drink? I’m dying to taste it” 

He nodded a yes, and you held your glasses up, clinking them against each other. The sound echoed in the empty house. As you did that, he looked right into your eyes, and you felt a familiar shiver run down your spine. You lift the glass up to your lips, tasting the liquid, and Hyunjin watched you as you did so. His eyes on you made you feel a little shy, but that was soon overpowered by how good the drink tasted. 

It smelled, and tasted just like flowers and sweetness, and you let out a moan of satisfaction, “Fuck. That’s…revolutionary”

Hyunjin smiled, eyes crinkling, and only after that did he sip his drink. It tasted like a dark chocolate tart, and like flavourful berries grown on a farm.

“Have you ever considered…becoming a mixologist instead of an idol?” 

He laughed, stepping close to the counter so that he lingered at your footsteps. If you opened your legs up just a bit, he could stand between your thighs but you weren’t sure it was appropriate. So, you stayed the way you were, sitting on the countertop, and Hyunjin stood as close as possible, his lower stomach grazing against your knees.

“Maybe when I retire” He joked, swirling the drink around in his glass.

“No, but this is seriously so good” You told him, genuinely now, “Is there anything that you can’t do?”

“Stop” His face turned red, and he looked embarrassed, “It’s just a drink. I didn’t do anything else”

“Well, nobody’s ever made me a Queen of Hearts before” 

He glanced up at you, “They’re missing out on a great opportunity then”

“Mmh. I’m sure nobody’s dying to do that”

His smile fell, hand landing on your knee, “Don’t do that”

“Do what…?”

“Talk down about yourself”

You blinked. It really wasn’t your intention to do that. You were just being honest. Nobody you knew in your life, or in all of Daejon would ever make a drink like this for you. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it was just the truth.

So it was interesting that he interpreted it as such, as if your reply offended him.

“I wasn’t” You clarified, “I just meant…there’s not a lot of guys in Daejon with skill sets like yours”

The way you said it made you cringe, it came out sounding so professionally formal.

He looked up at you, sincere expression, “That’s…a compliment I’ve never got before”

You broke into a laugh, and absentmindedly put your hand over his, the one that rested on your knee. His hand dwarfed yours in comparison, but you drew circles over it as you talked, “Well, I have a gift and a burning desire for pleasing others or I’ll shrivel up and die”

Hyunjin laughed, squeezing your knee, and his hair was wet, but it was already beginning to dry up around his face.

“I like when you’re like that” He suddenly spoke, eyes focused on his drink, not you.

You took a sip of it too, watching him, “When I’m like what?”

“I don’t know” He looked up, “Confident. Funny. Yourself. Not…sad”

“You make it sound like I’m always depressed”

He shook his head, “You know what I mean”

“I don’t” 

He sighed, as if wondering whether to say it or not.

You drew a star on his hand, the one that rest on your knee, “Tell me. It’s our last night together anyway”

It seemed like that was the push he needed, and he placed his glass to the side, “The past few weeks you haven’t seemed the most…happy. I know that you were having a lot of trouble with your friends, and with the art program application” He trailed off, looking guilty again, “And because of me…”

You stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I guess it was just not a great time for you. But tonight, when I’m talking to you…it feels like those problems don’t exist in the moment. I know I have to leave tomorrow, and I know you were upset about that, and you have every right to be, but right now…it feels like you’re less burdened somehow”

You didn’t know he noticed so many things about you, and so your heart warmed at just that implication. Hearing him recount what you’d been going through, you also felt a little emotional.

He looked up at you, looking a little panicked, “Or I could be completely wrong. You can correct me”

“No” You refuted, “You’re not wrong. I do feel…less burdened. I guess I just never thought of it like that. For me, it just felt like each day was getting progressively worse. I didn’t look at it from any other perspective”

“Yeah… but things will work out for you, Y/N” He said so simply, “I know that sounds preach-y, but… it may feel like everything in your life is going wrong somehow, but I assure you it’s not. Every bad day you’ve recently had…all of that won’t matter soon enough, and so you have to know that this sadness isn’t forever”

You blinked, staring at him. Absentmindedly, his hand slid further up your leg, drifting from your knee to your thigh. You let it.

He pushed his stray hair back with his other hand, tucking the strands behind his ear, “And I know how much this art program meant to you, I’ve had my share of failed dreams before, so I know how gut-wrenching it is, but this isn’t the end of your art journey. You know that right?”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well, it can’t be. You have a gift, and…I know that it’s not going to waste”

You smiled, cheeks full from his words, “You have a gift too, you know?”

He locked eyes with you, and he was blushing too, and his fingers rest at your upper thigh now, “Yeah? What’s that?”

“You have...such a good heart, Hyunjin”

His eyes widened, hanging on to your every word.

“You’re the kindest person I know. It doesn’t sound like much, but…I’ve not met many people like you, genuinely good people. I respect that…a lot. You deal with so much bullshit in your life, but you still find a way to be happy”

His eyes lit up, a gorgeous smile appearing on his face, “Isn’t that the point of everything? The endgame”

You laughed, “It is. It what we’re all working towards. I just wish everyone else could be like you”

He smiled at your words, and you would miss this so much. The kind of ideas that you could talk about for hours. He looked beautiful like this. He looked like the most beautiful thing in the world when he was happy. He was shy too, biting his upper lip, and his cheeks were all red.

So you continued, to make that emotion last as long as you could, “I’m serious. You have such a kind heart, Hyunjin. You put your soul into everything you do, even if that’s just talking to someone at the grocery store or something. I think if someone met you, even for just a day in their life, you’d impact them forever”

His eyes crinkled with each sentence, bashful smile appearing, “Thank you”

You took another sip, and you watched him.

He was finishing his drink faster than you, and you just wanted him to be closer.

So, you lift your legs up, folding them on the counter, sitting cross-legged while facing him. His eyebrow shot up, for just a second, before he realised why you did that. He stepped closer, till his body was pressed to the counter, and his face was inches apart from you. 

He lift his glass up, indulging in the last drink, but his eyes stayed on you, and his hand was on your thigh again.

“Thank you for the drink and… for the pep talk. I really enjoyed that” You told him.

He placed his empty glass next to you, a sincere look in his eyes, “That’s what I’m here for”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, and you felt like your cheekbones would hurt.

“Everybody deserves to have someone like you in their lives, Hyunjin”

He was smiling too, cheeks full, eyes twinkling, “You too, Y/N”

You went to sip your drink, but it was already empty and you stared at the glass in your lap, “I finished it”

Hyunjin stared at your lap too, and the petals in the glass balanced in the space between your legs, “Do you want another?”

“Another drink?” You looked up at him.

He nodded, and his cheeks were so flushed, so he was already a little tipsy, “We can make a stronger one”

“You have a train to catch in the morning. Is that a good idea?”

“I’ll be fine” He reassured you, “This night is more important to me than that”

You clutched the counter on both sides, and nodded, “Okay. Another drink sounds good to me then”

He nodded, eyes half-lidded, “Can I have your glass?”

You hummed, “Yeah” but you made no effort to give it to him.

So, his eyes flickered from yours, to the glass between your legs. 

Carefully, he reached for it, trying to grasp the thin stem. You didn’t move an inch, holding your breath. 

His fingers brushed against your inner thighs, and he stilled. But he didn’t say anything. 

He went straight for it, and grabbed the wine glass, so near to where you needed him the most. 

Careful, he lifted it up from between your legs, and then finally you could breathe again. He walked over to the cabinet, “What kind of drink do you want this time?”

“I’ll trust your judgement”

He busied himself yet again, explaining what he was making, using up all the leftover gin he had. You watched him as he worked. The t-shirt was fitted, and it was a little wet from the rain, sticking to his body tightly. That must be uncomfortable. 

As he moved about, pouring the gin into your glasses, you focused on how his back muscles flexed and relaxed. He was so good with his hands, as he worked swiftly and quickly.

Your head was already beginning to spin.

“You have anything to eat?” You asked.

He looked back at you, “Are you dizzy?”

“Just a bit” You reassured him with a smile, “I am hungry though”

He turned, hands on his hips, and you found it hard to focus on his face. The t-shirt was basically see-through at this point, sticking to every ridge and muscle in his body, clinging to him. 

“I might have some chocolate, but I don’t remember if I packed it in my suitcase already”

“You know what, don’t worry about it” You waved it off with your hand, “I’ll be fine”

He looked worried, “You sure?”

“Mmh-mh”

“And you’re okay to have another drink? We don’t need to” 

“No, we won’t get to do this again, so yes I’m okay”

This was your last night, your brain kept screaming at you, again and again.

He turned to finish garnishing the drink. His hair was still long enough to brush his shoulders, and it stuck to the back of his neck, and the shade of brown really suited him. You wanted to run your hands through it, feel the wet hair between your fingertips, scratch it with your nails. 

His girlfriend…she must have had the honour to do that, whenever she wanted.

Unlike you. You always had to wait for moments. 

Moments like the one in the Photobooth. Or under the fireflies.

The special moments you lived for.

You couldn’t just casually walk up to him, and kiss him.

You were a little tipsy, so you didn’t think twice, “Can I ask you about her?”

He paused, and asked you, “Her?”

“The pop star you dated” 

Understanding sank into his shoulders, and he handed you the glasses. The second round of drinks were ready. Standing opposite you, he crossed one arm over his stomach, drinking with the other hand.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t feel comfortable” You added, watching him carefully.

He didn’t seem uncomfortable.

He tipped his head back, drinking, and then looked at you, “You really want to know?”

“Yeah” You gripped the counter, and your drink lay to the side, untouched.

You added, “I mean she’s your ex, and…we’re friends. Friends talk about that kind of stuff”

He nodded, slightly, “They do”

You were relieved, never wanting to make him uncomfortable, but you were burning with curiosity.

“What do you want to know?” He tilt his head.

“How did you meet her?”

He suddenly relaxed, as if he’d been expecting you to ask much harder questions, “Oh, uh. She was training at the same company I was. On a different floor, of course. She was one of the top trainees of her year, and…we would practice at the same time, overnight. I bumped into her a few times then”

“Oh. Sounds like she worked really hard”

Hyunjin nodded, “I mean, we had no choice, but yeah…she was one of the few who really pushed herself. Some days it felt impossible to debut, so you really only made it if you worked your ass off, you know?” He then paused, as if wondering whether to say the next thing or not, but he did it anyway, “That’s what I liked the most about her”

Your gut clenched, but your curiosity overshadowed the jealousy that was eating you up.

“So…did you ask her out? Or did she?”

He took another sip of his drink, glancing briefly to the floor and then up at you, “Yeah. I had a stupid teenage crush on her”

The words were enough to make you finally pick up your drink, and perhaps you needed to be inebriated before listening to this.

A fucking crush. She must have been the luckiest girl in the world to be crushed on by Hwang Hyunjin. You wondered what she looked like, but maybe it was better not to know. She was a star, she was probably perfect.

If he ever told you he had a crush on you, you’d probably pass out. 

“Was that allowed…? To date another trainee?”

Hyunjin then laughed, shaking his head, “Um, not at all. It was forbidden”

Oh.

It was forbidden, but he did it anyway.

“You must have liked her a lot”

He hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass, “I was a stupid kid. I wasn’t thinking”

“So you regret it?”

He shook his head, “No. I needed the experience”

“Of dating?”

“That, but also…a month or so after we started going out, one of her friends was asked to leave the company because she was caught up in a scandal. A dating one. That made me realise that I was risking my entire life, and my dream, for…a girl”

“How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” He seemed confused.

Your body was alight with all of this information.

“Keep it a secret for that long”

He smiled a bit at the memory, “Um. We found ways. We’d meet after dinner, and during late-night practices. Sometimes really early in the morning”

You think you would die.

“Did you fuck?”

Hyunjin’s eyes shot up to yours, wide, surprised. 

You don’t know what the hell possessed you to say that, but you didn’t budge, indicating to him that it was okay to answer.

He slowly nodded, tongue poking his cheek, “Yeah. We did”

You were dying.

But for some godforsaken reason, you needed to know the details. As if the thoughts of his secret dating days was arousing to you.

“Tell me more”

He til his head, words at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to ask you if you really wanted to know, or why you were so curious, but he didn’t ask. 

You wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t prepared to hear the answer.

Hyunjin was staring at you, assessing every little detail of your facial expression, and you wanted to seem confident. You weren’t some kid. 

You could hear about him having sex, and not freak out.

Thoughts of him fucking some pop star should kill you, but it didn’t. Your core was tight, with anticipation, with imagination. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to talk.

“Um…” He paused, to take another sip. Perhaps he needed some liquid courage too sometimes, “It was never…we never had too much time on our hands. It was always quick. Rushed, but I think that’s where half of the thrill of it was. The fear of being caught anytime. If we weren’t quick, we wouldn’t have been able to…”

Your heart was pounding.

Images flashing in your head. 

He looked into your eyes, and you just nodded, for him to continue. If he looked at your hands, he would see your knuckles were white from gripping the counter too hard. 

“It was hot” He spoke, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, “The secrecy. The…shared glances. Nobody but us knew what went on. During group sessions, we would watch each other…in the practice room. Working out. Dancing”

“And?”

It wasn’t enough.

His eyes had a peculiar expression, like he couldn’t understand why you wanted to know all this stuff, but he told you anyway, “And…on bad days, when she was frustrated or upset, I’d…be there for her. In the way that she wanted”

You took a large sip of your drink, the alcohol sour in your mouth, and your head was beginning to spin. In a good way. You were wet too.

You didn’t think you could ever feel this way. 

You were dizzy with want, and with desire, and his name escaped your lips in what was almost a complaint, “Hyunjin…”

“Yeah?” He was immediate to step closer, keeping his glass aside. He put his hands on either side of you, caging you in place, and his voice dropped so low, “Are you gonna tell me why you wanted to know that?”

“I don’t know” You mumbled, “I don’t understand it myself”

He leaned in, watching you, “You’ve had a lot to drink”

“I’m fine”

His voice softened, and he grabbed the glass from you, “I know, but…let’s not drink anymore, okay?”

“Why?” You whined, “It’s your last night”

He out a soft laugh, “It’s not like I’m dying or anything. I’ll only be a few hours away from you”

“A few hours is a lot. I don’t want you to be even a few minutes away” You complained.

He smiled, adoration in his eyes, “So, what do you want then? To stay with me all the time?”

You nodded, eyes closing, “That sounds fair”

He laughed, loudly, “Is it really? What about my job? Is it fair for me to leave all of that?”

“What about me?” You opened your eyes to look at him. 

He was so close, just inches away. His wispy bangs stuck to his forehead, grazing his eyebrows. His eyes were full of amusement, they were so brown, and so big. 

His lips were thick, tinted with the colors of the drink, and even little accidents like that made him look perfect, like he was sculpted by a great artist. You could admire him for hours.

He tilt his head, “What about you?”

You pursed your lips, feeling sad all of a sudden, “Are you gonna forget all about me?”

His smiled, hand tracing your cheek, “You really think so?”

“Your whole life is waiting for you back there”

He nodded, “It is…”

“You have so much to look forward to” You told him. So much more than what this life here in this little small-town could give him. 

He spoke, “Maybe that’s why I’m not sad. I guess because Seoul has always been my home”

Your heart felt heavy at his confession but you understood him, “Hyun…”

“I know. It sounds horrible. I was born here, and this is where my parents used to live before we moved, and this town should mean so much more to me. I feel like I’m betraying…that”

“You’re not betraying anyone, Hyun. You may not feel this town anymore but Daejon will still always be here for you. If you ever need it”

He glanced at you, eyes wide.

“And I will be too” You continued, “If you ever need me”

His mouth parted as he whispered, “Thank you”

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “What do we do now?”

His eyes flickered over you, and he was quiet.

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, and your mind too. 

“I don’t know” He finally spoke.

Your heart carried a sense of unfulfilment.

There was more that should happen. 

You could talk to each other for hours, and it was endless. Unfortunately, time was linear.

It was finite, and yours with him was coming to an end.

You’d been here for hours, yet it didn’t feel like that.

Hyunjin was staring at you, half-lidded eyes, and empty promises swirled within them.

You swallowed your sadness, trying to find words, “Your manager, he’s going to be coming here soon, right?”

“Yeah. His train will arrive…any time now” He glanced at his phone, “He’s almost here…”

“I should go before he arrives”

Hyunjin nodded, stepping back, “Yeah. He…he can’t see you here”

You jumped off the counter, suddenly unsure what to do or say. This was it.

He was going to be gone soon.

You stared at each other, at a loss for words. You couldn’t even cry. You just felt a certain numbness. The numbness he talked about. Maybe it was the gin.

You also felt like you were in denial, like he would return soon and you’d see him tomorrow morning. 

But the last time he left…he didn’t return for years.

Why would now be any different?

“I don’t know what to say” You mumbled, stupidly. There was nothing wrong with being honest.

He was leaving, and you couldn’t breathe. The air in your body wasn’t enough, and you were panicking because you didn’t know what to fucking say. Why had nobody prepared you for goodbyes like this?

In the movies, they were so dramatic, but real life wasn’t like that.

In the books, they were so romantic, but there was no time for love in his life.

Hyunjin’s expression softened, “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t want you to be sad. We’re going to meet again, and we’ll see each other soon”

You nodded, air returning to your lungs, “Right. You’re completely right, Hyunjin”

There was no need to freak out. He wasn’t dying, or anything. 

You didn’t want this to be some big deal. You weren’t going to cry, or make a scene. 

“It’s only for a little while” He shot you a smile.

“Yeah” Your palms were sweaty, and you wiped them on your jeans. You stared at the kitchen counter, and your wine glasses lay empty. You wish you’d asked for another drink. You wish tonight didn’t have to end. You wish time wasn’t linear, and you could go back.

Fuck. If you could change things, you would have gone back just an hour tonight, and you would have told him you were in love with him.

But it was too late now. 

He was just your friend, and he would stay in touch with you, like friends did. It wasn’t any different than what Yeonjun did when he left, or even Seonghwa.

“I should go” You stated, with finality.

Hyunjin nodded, then stepped forward, closing the distance between you until he stood an arm's length away.

“Thank you for coming over” He mentioned, “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight anyway”

“Of course. That’s…what friends are for” You smiled up at him.

He suddenly seemed awkward, hands at his side like he didn’t know what to do, “Can I hug you?”

Why was this so strange?

Why were neither of prepared for this?

You’d never said goodbye to a boy you loved, so you didn’t know how it worked.

You wish there was a manual for this. But even every tutorial in the world couldn’t prepare you for the look in his eyes.

You got up on your toes, pulling him into an embrace, and he immediately hugged you back. His strong arms wrapped around your body, squeezing you in his grip. 

You could smell the rain on him, a faint hint of his cologne, his shampoo. You’d want to bottle up his scent, and keep it with you forever. The air smelt like the ground after it rained, and like an unrequited love.

You tried to memorise the shape of his arms on you, and the sound of his heart beat. 

Hyunjin let go of you, far too quickly, but it was what you needed, or you’d never leave.

You were in a state of fugue, indulging in actions, but not thinking, not feeling.

You found yourself at the front door, and you don’t remember how you got here. You looked back at him, “Text me when you get to the city, okay?”

He nodded, “I will. Don’t worry, okay?”

All your words seem stuck in you. They can’t seem to make it past your chest.

Maybe a part of you thought there’d be some grand declaration of love by now, but this was real life and those things never happened.

You turned to leave.

“Wait—” He suddenly spoke.

“What?” You asked, anticipation swelling within you.

His wait held so many promises. So much hope.

Wait, I’m in love with you too.

Wait, I’m fucking stupid for leaving you all alone in this town.

Wait, please don’t leave me without kissing me goodbye.

He retreated to the kitchen counter, “Wait — your sketchbook. Don’t forget to take that” 

“Oh. Of course” You grabbed it from him, fingers brushing against his. 

“Take care of yourself” He spoke, and it was so forced. It was the right thing to say, obviously. It’s what you told people when you wouldn’t see them again for a while. 

But it felt wrong, like you were both forcing yourselves to follow traditions, and patterns, but those never worked on the two of you.

You pushed open the door, and a gust of wind blew in. The storm had passed now, so you could get home safely, by yourself, all alone. 

Looking over your shoulder as you walked out, you felt nothing. He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His heart wasn’t in it. 

You were drained out, and all of your emotions were spent.

You held the sketchbook to your chest, focusing on the sound of your footsteps on the wet pavement, and not on Hyunjin’s house behind you.

You heard the door close behind you, and you squeezed the sketchbook a little harder, willing yourself to walk as fast as you could.

It felt like it would be the most emotionally draining moment of your life, but you felt so numb too.

You passed his front porch and bedroom window, and you remembered the first time you’d come over. How he’d shown you all of his art, and his painting. You’d been surprised to know how wonderfully his mind worked. 

Even back then, he’d asked if he could hug you. Always so…fucking nice. 

You were already forgetting the feel of his arms around you.

You stopped in your tracks, and you shouldn’t.

You turned around.

His house was beautiful, like him. 

Tomorrow, it would be empty.

Right now, it was so full of him, of his love, and of everything that made him him.

Your body took on a mind of its own, and you were walking. 

You were walking back to his place. It was stupid. 

What the hell were you doing?

You had no plan or idea of what you’d say when you got there, but that couldn’t have been your goodbye. 

You needed to see him one more time. Just another minute.

You raised your hand in a fist to knock on his door, but before you could, the door flew open.

He stood there, staring at you, eyes wide. 

His hair was messy like he’d run his hand through it a million times since you walked away, but that was only twenty fucking seconds ago.

“Y/N…” He spoke, breathing heavy as his eyes flickered all over you, and the fact that you’d come back.

“What… what were you doing?” You had the audacity to ask him when you didn’t even know what the fuck you were doing.

He was breathing so heavy, chest moving rapidly up and down, “I don’t really know. I was coming after you” 

Realisation sank in. 

You’d come back to see him again, and in the same breath he was coming after you. 

The world was really so cruel.

How could two people be so perfect for each other but be destined to be apart?

You couldn’t say anything, except his name, “Hyun—”

And in the same breath, his lips collided with yours, so hard and fast.

The impact was so powerful you stumbled back, but his arm was tightly wrapped around you, holding you up. 

It was tight around your waist, gripping you, and he was devouring you, lips moving against yours like they never should be apart. 

You were running out of time.

You kissed him back, hands coming up to his arms, gripping his biceps tight, fingernails digging in. 

Time was running and it was slipping away every second that the Earth was turning, but his grip on you was so strong that even a planet couldn’t come between you.

You stood at his doorway, on the threshold, halfway in, halfway out.

He’d never kissed you like this. 

His hand slipped into your hair, gripping onto it so tightly it almost hurt, tilting your head back and back as he towered over you. He kept kissing you, pressing pecks against your lips, bruising them.

Your hands drifted into the front of his shirt, and you gripped it in your fists, holding onto him for life.

“Fuck—” He mumbled, in a breath between pecks. Fuck, you’re actually fucking doing this again.

Your body was heating up, and he stopped to let you breathe, moving his mouth over your jawline and leaving kisses to your ear. You were putty in his hands, and he tilt his head the other way, pecking every inch of un-kissed skin.

“You came back” He breathed, pupils dilated as he looked right at you, and both his hands came to hold your face.

“I couldn’t go” You were panting, trying to get the air back in.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much” His lips trailed over yours again, tracing your mouth to memory.

“I know, I know” You nodded, realising that you were both tasting your tears. You didn’t even know you had tears.

The door was wide open and it was stupid to do this now, but it was everything. The wind prickled goosebumps up your arms, and legs, and you both kissed each other goodbye.

“Can I just say something?” He asked, breathing heavy. 

“There’s no time” You told him, kissing him again, and again.

He laughed slightly, “I’ll be quick”

You pulled away, “Tell me”

He was speaking quickly, trying to get all the words out in one breath, “I know we’ve said it a million times. I know we’re supposed to just be friends, and I know nothing can happen, but…I have no self-control around you. I’m so fucking sorry”

It didn’t make you sad. You’d heard it before, and you embraced it.

“Don’t apologise” You mumbled, and your hands drifted around his waist, feeling him up. 

Was it possible to want somebody so bad, knowing it would lead to absolutely nothing?

He swallowed, “I know we have to just be friends…but I’m so fucking attracted to you. Like an absolutely insane amount. It’s impossible for me to pretend I’m not into you”

Each word he said just made you wet, and you kissed him instead of answering. 

There was no time, because when were things ever easy for you?

You felt him up, all you could, hands drifting to his ass, and to the front of his pants, squeezing him through his sweatpants.

He left kisses on your jaw, and he felt you up too. His hand squeezed your ass, the other going up the front of your shirt. His fingers grazed your bra, and he pulled you even closer to him.

“Can I take you inside?” He whispered, ”Please, please, please”

“Hyunjin, I don’t wanna be interrupted” You breathed, because that’s what always happened. 

“Me neither” He mumbled into your neck, breathing in your scent, “We won’t… go there. We won’t sleep together”

You pulled back to look him in the eyes, because it sounded impossible right now, “Would we be able to stop before that?”

He nodded, “If you can’t, I’ll stop us. Don’t worry”

How could you say no? 

So he took your hand, fingers intertwining with yours, as you found yourselves back in his bedroom. Everything was put away, and his room was empty, but you sat on the bed and didn’t break the kiss for a second.

You didn’t have the luxury to go further, but you could just kiss. So you did just that.

He didn’t pull you into his lap, because you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if he did.

Instead, you sat cross-legged, facing each other, mouths meeting in the middle like two teenagers dared to kiss at a party.

He kept his hand in your hair, the other on your waist, and it was so innocent it was sweet. Your hands rested on his thighs, squeezing the skin through his sweats.

You didn’t know much time you had left, until he had to leave, until you were interrupted. You hope his manager never showed up. 

You continued to feel him up, memorising every ridge and muscle of his body, and he let out soft moans every time you touched him somewhere new.

“I’m so glad you came back” He mumbled, “I wanted you so much”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” You almost whined, kissing his jawline, “I wanted you too”

Things got more heated, and in a matter of seconds, he was pulling you closer to him. Your knees skidded across the mattress, as Hyunjin pulled you to him. 

Nothing was supposed to happen, but somehow, you were fiddling with the knot of his sweatpants, and he had unbuttoned your jeans, pulling the button out of its loop. 

You were dizzy with desire, and his hand slipped inside your jeans, at the same time that yours did into his sweatpants. Now you really did feel like teenagers — making out with your hands down each other’s pants.

It was hard for him because the waistband of your jeans were so tight, and he seemed frustrated. If you’d known this was going to happen, you’d have worn a dress, or maybe nothing at all, so nothing could stop him from touching you.

His fingers brushed against your underwear, and you were so fucking wet it was ridiculous. You bit back a moan, he’d barely touched you but you were burning.

Everything was spinning, and you were so high off off him. His fingers pushed your panties to the side, your arousal making it harder for him to do.

“Fuck…you’re really wet” He mumbled, and his fingers touched your core. You let out a moan at the feeling.

This was the first time he’d touched you like this, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your hand in his pants stilled, as his fingers started to brush languid circles across your clit. 

Your head fell forward, against his forehead, and he didn’t even seem to mind that you’d stopped touching his cock. He was too focused on you. 

“Shh…I got you” He breathed, kissing your jaw, as he pressed his fingers against you, truly feeling how much you wanted him. You couldn’t describe the way he touched you, as if he was caressing you, fingers brushing against your folds so delicately. Nobody had ever touched you like this.

Your mouth parted, allowing Hyunjin to slip his tongue in, and his anxiety manifested in how intensely he kissed you, like he was running out of time, like this was the last time. You let him take control, as he controlled the pace of it, making out with you. Yet, making out seemed too crude a word for what he was doing. He was savouring every kiss - no half-kisses, no pecks - mouth crushed to yours like he wanted to devour you and you’d let him.

You’d been turned on since hours. You needed more. You gripped onto his bicep tightly, your other hand buried down his pants, hoping he would get the hint. His fingers prodded at your entrance, feeling you.

“Will you let me?” He asked, voice so innocent. You’d never said yes so fast before in your life.

Your lips grazed his ear, and then his cheek, “Please, Hyun”

He pulled back to look at you, “Are you sure?”

“Please”

“Stop me if it hurts, okay?” He kissed under your ear, and then in one swift move, he pushed a finger inside you. You stopped breathing the deeper he got, and you looked at him, mouth parted. 

It didn’t hurt. He could never hurt you.

“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbled, and then he pulled his finger back, before pushing it back in. An embarrassing moan escaped you, and he smiled at your reaction. 

“You like it when I do that?” He asked, and he was out of breath, just like you. He began thrusting out, and then back in, slow, lazy strokes, like he was still getting a feel for it, familiarising himself with your reactions and your body. But there was no time for slow, or careful.

“Holy shit” You mumbled, feeling like you’d pass out, “You can —You can go deeper, and faster too...please”

You had to make him feel good too. So you went back to work, wrapping your hand entirely around his cock. It was a different kind of feeling, to be doing this with all of your clothes still on. There was a small stain at the front of his sweatpants, and he was leaking already. The sight made you dizzy and crazy.

You brushed your thumb against his tip. He let out a moan, eyes fluttering shut, “Fuck. If you do that, I can’t focus on you” 

He then thrust another finger deep inside you, stretching you open, as if in retaliation.

Your mouth fell open in a moan, eyes squeezing shut, but you didn’t stop moving your hand over his cock, “But— but you’re distracting me”

You were both a mess of whimpers and moans, and he kept fingering you open, stretching you out. You’re sure his hand was dripping with your arousal, just like yours was covered in his pre-cum.

Hyunjin became impatient, bucking his hips for more friction, and you increased your pace too.  He whimpered, back arching, and cursed loudly, fucking himself into your hand. His hair was wet with sweat, sticking to his forehead, to his neck.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” You told him, pressing your mouth to his.

He fingered you harder. 

Your vision was a blur, and all you could focus on was moving your hand over his length. Something about making him moan, while his fingers were buried inside you, was so fucking hot. He was too big in your hands, and you wanted him so bad. But you’d made an agreement, and you couldn’t fuck, no matter how tempting it was.

Time ticked so fast, slipping from within you.

“Are you close?” He whispered into your ear, finger fucking you slowly. It was far too much to handle. You squirmed in his grip, “Yeah. Go faster, please”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your lips and then increased his pace. You could hear how turned on you were, the wet sounds echoing through his room.

“It’d be easier without the jeans” He mumbled, fucking you open with just his fingers, frustrated at how the waistband restricted his movements. 

“Are you close too?” 

He hummed, “I’m so close. I could cum probably just from touching you”

His words shot another wave of arousal through you, and your core tightened around him, impossibly.

“Fuck — you just…got so tight. Did you like that?” He asked you.

You nodded, no coherent thought in your head.

“Shit, come here” He said, and he pulled your hand out of his sweatpants. You whined at the loss of contact, but he pulled you into his lap instead. His arm came around to hold you up, and you were sat right on his crotch.

“What about—” You went to ask, but he shut you up with a kiss. 

His hand slipped back inside your jeans, and he slid your panties to the side again, “Let me”

You nodded, putting your hands around his neck.

He was so hard under you, and experimentally he thrust up, the friction of you on him so much, and he breathed, “Shit. That feels...amazing”

Everything was spinning, except him, “Don’t stop”

“Remember what I told you?” He mumbled, hand gripping your hip, and you nodded. 

He’d taught you how to make him feel good, back when you were still in the Photobooth. So, you dragged yourself over his crotch, slowly. It was harder to do when his fingers were still inside you, but every little movement felt amplified. 

You didn’t care about anything but him, you didn’t need this to be slow, you didn’t need it to be careful. You just needed him, and that was perfect.

His head fell back, and you kissed messily, spit between your mouths. He was thrusting up into you, to the same pace that his fingers moved inside you. It seemed like that was really enough for him too. Every little contact drove you crazy, like it was your first time touching a boy, and his first time touching a girl. There was so much novelty in the way you two moved against each other, and no finesse. Everything was rushed, every kiss messy, each feeling intensified. 

You caressed the sides of his face, “I want you to fuck me, please”

His eyes widened, but he thrust up so hard at those words, “Y/N, we can’t”

“Please, just the...just the tip”

He kissed you, “I want to, so badly, but --”

“But what?”

He looked genuinely sorry, breaking away from the kiss, “I don’t have a...condom. I'm sorry”

Oh, the irony. You wanted to scream with agony, because you don’t think you’d ever wanted someone this bad before.

“I’m so sorry” He mumbled, kissing you again, but then his voice turned darker, “My fingers aren’t enough for you?”

You clenched, “No. No- they are”

He thrust both fingers in with so much pressure, stretching you open, “Is that better?”

You pressed your lips to his, wanting to kiss him through your orgasm, because your stomach was tightening and you were so close. Hyunjin deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and he was suddenly so rough and intense but you absolutely loved that.

He was breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded and consumed with lust, just like you. His lips were so puffy, and swollen, thick and full, and so pink, and he was fingering you so perfectly. Your core tightened, and you pressed your mouth to his again, to let him kiss you because you felt so out of control.

“Wait— wait, I wanna look at you” He breathed, pushing both fingers in so deep, curling them just right. All it took was to look at him for you to completely let go. 

Stars dotted your vision, and you whimpered, your entire body trembling. 

“Hyun—” You buried your face in his neck, a white hot flash overtaking you, travelling from your core to your heart, to your head. 

He was still grinding against you, faster now, lips hovering over yours, chasing a high you’d both been denied for far too long. And just seconds after, he let out a long drawn out moan, hips twitching up into you, eyes squeezed shut as he cursed, “Fuck”

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of your breaths. 

He was breathing deeply, and his hair was drenched, sweat dripping down his face, and neck and chest.

He opened his eyes. You wanted to cuddle up in his arms and go to sleep. From the look on his face, he wanted the same. You stared at each others state, and slowly he pulled his hand out of your jeans. Sweat trickled down his chin. It sparkled like glitter. You traced his jawline with your hands, soaking up the sweat into your skin.

You didn’t say anything, but he wrapped his arms tighter around your body. You gripped the front of his shirt, squeezing it in your grip. His heart was beating so fast. 

“You okay?” He asked you, his voice so gentle.

You hummed, and you felt drained, but you felt exhilarated too.

His hand rubbed your back, soothing you.

You tilt your head at him, “You?”

A smile pulled at his lips, “Yeah. I’m okay”

You traced his pecs through the shirt, not wanting him to leave. It was criminal for this feeling to end, and for this pleasure to not be yours everyday. Nothing had ever felt this good, and even in your post-coital haze, you wanted him more. 

So you blurted, “What if I did it anyway?”

“Did what?”

“What if…I moved to Seoul anyway? Maybe I could go there first…and look for a job later. I know it’s crazy and impulsive but I’ve always wanted to live there and—”

You trailed off, at his expression.

“Do you think it’s a stupid idea or something?” You chewed on your lower lip.

Hyunjin’s eyes followed that movement, and his thumb traced your mouth, “No …it’s not stupid at all. It’s what you’ve wanted for a few years, right?”

“It sounds crazy and impulsive…because I don’t even have a plan of what I’ll do, but maybe...that doesn’t matter”

Before he could speak up, his phone buzzed against the nightstand.

He glanced at it, and then to you.

Just at that minute, you heard the cab pull up. Hyunjin sighed, closing his eyes, and you got off his lap. He peeked through the blinds, “Fuck. He’s here”

“I should leave” You stood, gathering your things. There was no time to ask for his opinion anymore. Maybe he didn’t want to tell you it was a batshit insane idea.

“Hold on” He handed you his sweatshirt, the one that had dried by now, “It’s a cold walk out. You sure you’ll make it home safe?”

“Don’t worry about me” You told him, squeezing his sweatshirt in your hands, feeling silly for blurting out such a spontaneously dumb idea that made it very obvious how much you loved him.

A car door opened outside, and his manager must have stepped out. It was almost four in the morning. You were going to be leaving through the back. 

His manager couldn’t see you here. 

You’d already said your goodbyes, in the only way you knew how to.

You stepped out onto the patio, but Hyunjin grabbed your arm, urgency in his tone, “You should do it, Y/N”

You turned, confused, “Do what?”

The doorbell rang.

Hyunjin spoke quickly, “What you were just talking about. Even if you didn’t get into the program you wanted, you should move there. To Seoul”

Your eyes widened, tears filling up suddenly, and you quickly pulled him into another hug, and he stumbled into your embrace, “Thank you for saying that. I think it’d feel less scary with you there”

His lips brushed against your ear, “It’s the least I can do. Being here was less scary for me, only because of you”

He kissed you a rushed goodbye, but for the first time that night, your heart didn’t hurt anymore.

»»————-

Your morning passed in a daze. 

Time wasn’t real, as you lay on your bed, counting down the seconds until his train. Minutes stretched into hours into seconds, and you must have been more tired than you thought, because you woke up to drool on your pillow. 

The sun told you it was the afternoon. 

You’d fallen asleep in the clothes you wore to the drive-in theater. Your underwear was still wet, and reminded you of him. You were smiling to yourself like a crazy person, as you dressed yourself for work, and you put his sweatshirt on. It smelled just like him, and as you walked to work, the grass and the birds and the houses all remind you of him. 

Was it possible to fall even more in love with someone?

You were distracted, often drifting into thoughts of his moans, of the sensation of his hand in your pants, but it was frustrating because the man of your affections was moving miles away from you by the minute.

Hyunjin’s first text came at a precarious time.

You had been packing a pink acrylic canister for a customer, and the pings of your phone were so distinctive, you instantly knew it was him. It had to be Hyunjin, he must have already reached home, and you had to hold back an urge to text him back.

The phone buzzed incessantly against the glass countertop, and the lady in front of you raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry” You apologised for the ringing, “I forgot to put it on silent”

She didn’t really seem to care, “Can I try a paint swatch of the pink before you pack it up?”

“Of course” You unscrewed the cap, dipping a stray paintbrush into it, so you could show her how it showed up on paper, “Is that good?”

“Um, do you have a brighter one perhaps? I don’t think my daughter needs this one” 

You nodded, glancing behind her, “I think it’s in the third aisle”

A few more pings from your phone caught your attention.

It startled you, making you squeeze the bottle in your hands, and pink paint dripped onto your fingers and the countertop.

“Shit” You mumbled, wiping it clean with a tissue.

The customer was still busy browsing the aisles, and Mrs. Aera would be less than pleased to see you using your phone on your job, but…

It was just for a minute.

hyun

heyy

shit im sorry i couldn’t call earlier

It’s been crazy

but i just got to my dorm

i just wanted to let you know i made it 

and i was planning to paint in the train journey over, but i totally passed out lol

you

hey :)

I was just thinking of you

im so glad youre home safe <3

that sounds like something i would do ngl

keep me updated!

tell me everything in detail later please im dying

hyun

sent a photo

can you tell they missed me a lot

It was a picture of him at a stairwell, surrounded by three boys you’d come to recognise as Chan, Changbin and Jisung. They were smiling wide, teeth on display and Changbin was making a kissing face toward’s Hyunjin’s cheek, lips pouted and ready. 

Jisung was pulling at Hyunjin’s other cheek, and Chan was laughing to the side, eyes closed in pretty crescents. 

you 

they’re adorable lmao

did changbin actually kiss u haha?

In the picture you literally look like a kid embarrassed by his parents  

hyun 

they won’t let go of me ever since im back

and yeah changbin even insisted on sleeping in my bed tonight..?

i had to reassure them im not going away anytime soon 

but its sweet

what are you up to?

i hope you weren’t too tired for work 

“This pink seems like a good shade, does it not?” The customer brought you back to reality, placing a canister on the counter, and her gaze fell to the stained countertop, “What happened to your hands?”

Your screen was now tainted with pink fingerprint stains, but you didn’t care, smiling at the texts you just received. Maybe things would be okay, even when he was gone.

»»————-

 The first time he called you from the city, was when you were at the diner, and you almost fumbled your latte at the ringing. 

Seonmi raised a questioning eyebrow as you pushed your coffee cup aside.

You picked up faster than lightning. 

“Hi” You spoke, into your phone, sounding just a little out of breath.

“Hey” His voice sent shooting stars through your heart, igniting you with a newfound energy at only eight in the morning. It was hoarse, and smooth at the same time.

You’d only been texting each other the past few days, he’d been rightfully swept into the whirlwind of his life, and you’d been dying to know how he’d been. He’d given you little updates, about how it felt to move back in, to get back to his job, at how he was welcomed back by his fans so grandly. 

You’d watched his return on the news — the number of people who were there to greet him at the train station was insane, and you’d felt so proud of him. He told you that they had to close a major exit of the station, just because the company hadn’t expected that many people to show up. 

It was the first time you’d physically seen the impact he had, and it didn’t surprise you at all. People with pictures of him, banners, and slogans and signs in every language just to welcome him back from his hiatus.

He was so loved by so many people.

It’d be selfish to want to keep him just to yourself.

“Are you outside?”

“I was just grabbing coffee” You explained, pressing your phone to your ear to drown out the sounds of the diner. 

“Man, I miss The Grove’s coffee”

You twirled the cup in your hands, smiling, “It misses you too”

“I thought I’d call you when I had time. I’m headed straight to the studio after this. Guess what? The stylists love what I did with my hair, apparently the blonde is an old trend now anyway, and now they want to capture this while it’s still fresh”

You laughed, “What? You mean the cheap haircut you gave yourself?”

He chuckled, “Mmh. Something about it is raw, and apparently perfect for my comeback”

You spun on your chair, “Well, they certainly know how to make the best of a situation” 

“We’re recording till late tonight. With the new album, we’re on the clock almost all the time. We have just under two weeks to finish producing it”

“For the entire album? Is that enough?”

“It has to be” He said, “I don’t mind. It’s what I live for”

You bit your lip, anticipation coursing through you, “Can I hear it anytime soon?”

He grinned, “You’ll be the first one”

He kept his promise. 

That night, he sent you a video. 

It’s a snippet of him in the studio, and you keel at the thumbnail before you’ve even opened it. His hair was messy, like he’s straight out of bed before recording, and bulky headphones sat around his neck. 

You hear someone counting down in the background, and you wonder if that’s Chan, his producers, or someone else to help with the process. The instrumental is muted, so it’s just Hyunjin singing the backing vocals.

Eyes squeezed shut, he’s lost in the verse of the song. The cadence and tone of his voice so distinctly different from when he speaks. It’s sassy, and it’s harsh, and the cleanest rap you ever heard.

You stared in awe, earphones plugged in, sat behind the cash counter in your break, and then you watched it again, and again, until you’re called back to your shift.

You think about the video all the while you’re at the store, and you called him as soon as you’re out.

“You were so good, the verse has been stuck in my head for hours and you sound cocky as fuck, but it’s not an annoying cocky. How do you even do that?” You were belting out compliments for minutes now, and Hyunjin sat at the other end, accepting them with flushed cheeks. He was so shy right now, a stark contrast to his singing personality. 

“Stop. You make me sound better than I am. You should…be telling me to get better” He complained.

You laughed, “You’re literally already perfect at it”

“When you visit me, I’ll get you access to the studio. You can watch me record it in real time” He suggested.

The thought excites you, and you imagine watching him from the couch, through the observation window.

You imagine him coming out of the booth to take a break, all sweaty and exhausted, and he would put an arm around you. 

Perhaps you’re influenced by far too many 80s movies. Still, you imagine excessively making out with him in the recording studio until his assistants have to physically pull you off each other.

Yeah, considering the industry he’s in, that could never happen.

Over the next few days, he also sends you videos from the dance studio, and all of your feelings for him build on top of each other, like a Jenga tower destined to fall. Every day that passes, a new block is added, and you don’t know how lucky you had to be to bump into him in your life.

He dances just like he kisses, with purpose and intensity, a certain romance behind his moves, and you become guilty of obsessively rewatching the clips he sends you, finding new details every time. 

He wears simple sweatpants to the studio, and he ties his hair up into a bun, and all you want is to be there to kiss his sweat away, and reward him after his long days of work. 

It feels silly to fantasize about caring for him, like you’re a seventies housewife, but you can’t help it. You want to massage the knots from his back, brush the tangles out of his hair, and kiss him between every dance practice. 

You realise how much he’s taken over your life and thoughts, even when he’s miles away. You don’t tell him all of this, but some days you can’t help but blurt your thoughts out.

“You’re messing with me every time you send me another video” You complain to him, “How do you contain all of that talent in a singular body?”

He laughs, but he doesn’t stop. He sends you selfies of him every day from the practice room, and he’s always glistening with sweat in them, throwing up a cheesy peace sign, and it’s your new favourite picture, until he sends you another the very next day.

You sit on your bedroom floor, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie as you talk to him, “What’s your schedule like right now?”

He’s at the headquarters of a high-end international magazine, in the waiting room as he talks to you. You can’t help but feel special that he takes out this time for you, “Well, I stay in the recording studio till late, and when I’m home…I’m trying to paint as much as I can before passing the fuck out. I just started a few days ago but it helps me destress. It gives me time to think about what happened in my day. It’s so…cathartic”

You smiled, so glad he found time to paint again, “Are you cheating on Aera’s with that art shop in Hongdae?”

He laughed, “Yeah. The cashier’s pretty cute here too”

You roll your eyes, “Funny…I hope you’re still making time to eat”

“Yeah, Jisung is my self-appointed manager for the moment. They’re smothering me with love”

“What, he cooks for you?”

“God no, he’d burn the dorm down. He just gets me my favourite takeout. Man, I missed takeout so much I didn’t even realise. There’s a Thai place down the street, and I’m basically surviving on it”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, Daejon isn’t boujee enough for a Thai restaurant”

He giggled, “I miss the hilltop bakery, although Chan introduced me to this cake shop. It opened just a month ago, it’s some European franchise but fuck if it isn’t the best pastries I’ve had”

You laughed, “It seems like you’re really enjoying yourself”

“Yeah. Everything’s really good”

“Yeah?” You stretch your legs out on your bedroom floor, and as you talk to him, you’ve been sketching in your notepad too, “How are the boys?”

He falls quieter, “Well…Jisung is still dealing with the fallout and backlash from that article. Did I ever tell you my company sued the media outlets who leaked the private information about him? All of his therapy notes and everything?”

“Yeonjun told me that there was some court case” You admitted, heart feeling heavy, “How’s that going?”

“It’s exhausting. There’s so many legal proceedings, but I have hope that Jisung will win the case”

You don’t know too much about this works, “Do you have to testify too?”

“If it comes to that, I will. Jisung wants me to stay out of that spotlight though. He says I’ve already been through enough with my hiatus”

You nod, “Then that’s probably for the best”

“I have to be careful though. The media seems to have a personal vendetta against us right now”

“God. That must be scary. Just take care of yourself”

“I am. Don’t worry. But the other day it was crazy, they surrounded our dorm and it made it impossible to leave”

Your eyes widen, “That doesn’t sound too safe. Can’t the company do something?”

He nods, “Our managers take care of it, but not much else can be done. The area outside our dorm is a public space. Legally, anybody can hang out there, and nothing can stop them from waiting for us”

You sighed, putting down your pencil, “You’re a saint for going through all of this, for your job”

He let out a bitter laugh, “It is my life, so I’m kind of used to it”

“That’s crazy” You mumble.

He nodded, “Hold on. They’re calling me in for the fitting now”

Your eyes widened, the prospect of him dressed up exciting you already, “Did they already show you the outfits you have to wear?”

He hummed, “They told me the theme too. You’ll love it.”

“Tell me”

He laughed, “I gotta go”

“Wait, what?” You protest, but he hangs up before telling you.

The pictures arrived at an unassuming time, catching you off guard.

Hyunjin had sent you ten different photos. You’d been wondering what the theme could have been for the past few hours, but it became very obvious as you scrolled through them all.

2000s fashion. 

Of fucking course.

In the first photo that you see, he was in a cropped jacket, the fabric shimmering under the changing room lights. His phone was held in front of his face, hiding his features and his hair was pushed back by a hairband. He still managed to make it look so sexy.

You stopped everything you were doing, scrolling through the myriad of pictures and outfits he’d bombarded you with.

The denim jeans fit snugly on his hips, patchwork across the thighs. 

You scrolled to the last one, and the jacket was unzipped. You realised why he’d said you would love it. He revealed a cropped baby blue t-shirt, with rhinestones across the hem. The shirt rose enough to show his bellybutton piercing and clenched abs.

You held your breath, staring at the pictures. A thin choker adorned his neck too, and he was slightly smirking in the picture.

He wanted you dead.

you:

wow.

hyun

is that all?

the photoshoot just ended so im going back

you:

i don’t really know what else to say

you look really fucking hot…like you’re so gorgeous in that

the outfit is…perfect on you

but i can’t imagine you ever wearing it here

it’s not your style, right?

hyun:

haha 

you know me so well

i really hate crop tops lol

but …

you

but?

hyun

i know you too :)

so i took a picture just for you

He sent it to you, making your heart stop.

In it, he was sat on the fitting room bench, legs spread. But this time…the rhinestone choker wasn’t around his neck anymore.

It was held between his teeth. 

It was so fucking sexy, you sat up in bed, staring at it, a feeling shooting through your body. You have to remind yourself how to breathe. You don’t reply for a few minutes, and he texts you again.

hyun

what, you have nothing to say now?

He’s so fucking cocky, but it makes you dizzy.

you

i hate you for that picture

hyun 

haha

i knew you’d love it 

»»————-

The next few days were a blur, and you felt a frenzied mess, like you were falling in love with him all over again. 

Hyunjin in Daejon was…a sweetheart, but Hyunjin in Seoul…was a fucking menace. 

You don’t know what it was that changed.

He’d tease you more often, exuding a calm confidence that tortured you at nights. 

Even though you couldn’t talk to him as often, the moments that you did were special. He’d send you pictures, snippets of his day, voice messages about how the album was going or random things the boys did at the dorm.

You lived through him.

In turn, you sent him parts of your life.

The way the sunset set perfectly against the Creek, the exorbitantly rich guests at the Château that were dressed to the nines, the sketches you drew and left unfinished but still sent him.

You found out through Seungmin that Hyunjin had donated all of his leftover paints to The Château, which were worth hundreds of dollars, just so they wouldn’t go to waste while he was away. You were once again, struck by how kind he was to have thought of that.

On mundane nights, he’d send you audio recordings of their unreleased songs, pictures from the studio of him, headphones slung around his neck, tired and weary eyes.

You tried to keep each other updated, not that there was much happening in your life at the moment. Still, you’d send him pictures of you with Yeonjun, of the store, of his favourite order at the diner. 

Every notification, every ping on your phone would send lightning through your veins, knowing it was him on the other end. 

In the days that followed, you heard his voice less, and instead read about his day in wrapped-up summary text messages, paragraphs that flowed for hours, leaving you to scroll through your phone. You’d make it a habit to sit in your favourite booth in the diner, as your paper straw turned soggy in the milkshake, you’d type out every single one of your thoughts. 

Vicariously, he lived through it too.

Your texts with him flowed like a personal diary, a newsletter on all the gossip in Daejon. You told him about the time you bumped into Hana at the diner, and she smiled at you, and you didn’t know what to do.

Somehow, he feels guilty for the rift between you and her, but you tell him it’s not his fault. If your friendship could be broken up by just a boy, it clearly wasn’t strong enough.

But then the next time you see her at the diner, she comes and sits across you.

You’re so shocked that you can barely process it, and she seems unsure too.

“Is there something wrong?” You asked her.

“Does something have to be wrong for me to talk to you?” She replied.

You shrugged, “Considering the last time we spoke—”

“I heard Hyunjin left town. Are you okay?”

You frown, feeling defensive, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You two were close” She stated, obviously, “Everybody in town knows that”

Maybe it’s your closeness with Hyunjin that makes you feel brave.

You want to say something mean. 

You want to say something honest. 

Everybody in town also thinks he cheated on her with you, after everything she said at the Lakehouse party. 

After she yelled at you in front of everyone.

But you’re past that, so you don’t say it.

“I don’t really care what everybody in town thinks”

It’s tamer than what you had in mind, but it has the same intended effect.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she’s clearly not expecting that response.

“That doesn’t sound like you” She finally said.

“Yeah, well maybe you don’t know who I am anymore. You haven’t talked to me in months”

“I’m sorry. Yeonjun coming back to town threw me off the loop. You know I never got over him”

“That doesn’t mean you can just take it out on me. I told you that night that…that I got rejected from an apprenticeship I’ve always wanted. You didn’t even ask me about that”

She sighed, running her hands through her hair, “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t really know what you want me to say. I’m not gonna apologise for being upset”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do, Hana” 

“Then what are even saying? It’s been weeks since that fight. I thought you’d moved on from it”

You stare at her. The innocence in her big eyes, the curls in her hair, the princess corset top she had on. It doesn’t affect you anymore. You used to get so hurt by the things she said. So personally offended. You want to confront her, and tell her about it. You want her to know that she hurt you, but you’re so sick of drama, and of confrontations.

Right now, you feel past it. 

The past few months and all of the things she said still hurt you, and maybe one day you can make things up with her. You just don’t think that day is today.

So you stood up, and she stared at you, confused.

Grabbing your bag and sketchbook, you mumbled, “You’re right, Hana. I have moved on from this”

»»————-

One day, Hyunjin sends you a new painting he worked on.

It’s a vase of flowers. Dahlia.  

It’s rendered beautifully. The shadows, the texture of the petals, and the lighting on the glass.

“When do you even get the time?” As soon as he called you, you asked him, “You’re getting so much better, Hyunjin. I’m serious, like the art you made here…this is already on another level from that”

He smiled, “Are you proud of me?”

“Of course”

“Can you tell me how I can get better?”

You don’t feel too worthy of sharing your knowledge, and you tell him that. After all, you’re not an expert or anything. 

He shuts you down instantly.

“You’ve been painting since before you could talk” He replied, “I want your opinion, Y/N”

You sighed, staring at the picture, “I think your shadows are getting better. Have you tried using a wider brush for the water, with thick bristles? I think the ripples will blend much easier”

“Really?” He asked, “I think right now, it looks too fake somehow”

“Yeah, but I think that’s because you’ve drawn out every wave and the lines are too sharp. Try blending the edges so it fades naturally, okay?”

“Okay, I’m gonna try that this weekend”

“I’m really glad you make time to paint, Hyunjin”

He laughed, “It’s a necessity. I lose myself in it, and it’s just me and the canvas for all those hours. Nothing else matters”

“Sounds familiar” You smiled, “Maybe one day, if you have time, we can paint on video call together”

And then he called you that very weekend.

The computer screen illuminated your face and his, as you painted in the dead of the night. You were set up in your bedroom, an assortment of paintbrushes and watercolours surrounding you. You painted with your fingers, often getting distracted by Hyunjin across the screen. 

His space was cleaner, more organised because he had less space to work with. A bag of chips lay at your side and you pushed your hand into it, lazily munching on it as you watched him frown over a color choice. 

“I think you’re going to love the song I’m working on with Chan” He said, after a while.

“Yeah?” 

“It’s…a sexy, contemporary kind of R&B. I can imagine you liking it”

You only have one, predictable question, “When can I hear it?” 

He laughed, “We’re still writing it”

You hummed, focusing on blending the ocean in your canvas, dabbing at your canvas to experiment with a new style. You savour the moments, because he hardly has this time.

“Can I say something cheesy?” He asked, and you look up to see that he’s sipping on some drink. A fancy cocktail that Chan probably made him. In the back, you can see his bed, and his things, and you wish you can see his room in Seoul. 

You want to know what he decorates it with, and what clutter he has there.

“Yeah?”

The way he’s leaning over his webcam, you can see into his shirt. The navy button-up is loose, and the top few buttons are undone. The sleeves are rolled up, which was probably a good decision since his arms are stained with pink paint. His hands are busier too, with more rings and more bracelets on them.

Hyunjin’s more boujee in the city too.

His cheeks are suddenly red as he confesses, “When I get stuck in the middle of the writing process, I think of you, and it really helps”

You sat up on your knees, cherishing this new bit of information, “What do you think about?”

He flushed, “You know…just our time together. Chan teases me about it. He says you’re my muse or whatever”

He doesn’t say much more, but he’s so shy so you don’t ask. You don’t react as much as you want to either. You want to jump, or scream, or kick your feet giggling. 

It’s a moment you etch into your brain forever.

You’re his muse, and it’s fitting because he’s always been yours.

As the hour passed, your focus grew, and you almost forgot he was on the other side. Almost.

Hyunjin is focused too, and he’s humming a familiar tune. The call lasts for over two hours, and it’s the most you’ve talked to him recently. 

When you’re both done, you show him your canvas; he shows you his, and you marvel at his improvement. He’s painted a beautiful lighthouse, ocean waves crashing into the rocks, and he explained every color choice to you. 

You could hear him talk about his art forever, and you sit in awe, as he expressed his reasoning behind every aspect. He’s gotten so much better at art, and he’s really a prodigy. 

You then do the same, lifting your canvas up to show him the landscape, and he leans in really close to the camera, eyes wide as he takes it in.

“That’s beautiful” He mumbles, still staring at your painting, “I don’t know how you do it so well every time”

You smiled, because art was your favourite thing in the world, and Hyunjin complimenting it made your heart swell.

He was suddenly smiling, and he said, “I…also visited an art gallery last week. I met someone” 

Your eyebrows shot up, and your smile fell so fast.

People only said that in one specific context. When they were into someone.

“You met someone?”

“Yeah” Hyunjin smiled, “She’s…this prodigy. Chan introduced me to her, she’s so young and she’s actually the owner of the entire place and guess what she said to me?”

You didn’t want to know.

“I don’t know” You replied, hoping your indifference wasn’t visible.

“She said one day I could display my own work up there. Isn’t that fucking insane? I mean, I just started out with art”

“How does she know your work?” 

He didn’t comment on your lack of excitement, but he just said, “Oh, Chan showed it to her. I was embarrassed, but it was worth it”

“That’s really nice of her” 

He nodded, “Yeah. She was really sweet. And oh! The reason I’m telling you this was because she used to intern for Kim Jieong, maybe she can help you out with the--”

“No, it’s okay” You’re quick to interrupt.

He then asked why you haven’t applied to another apprenticeship again. 

You put aside your paint supplies, you’d lost motivation anyway. You dragged your laptop onto your bed, as you told him, “I told you. I’m not really confident, and I’m not looking forward to another rejection”

He stopped you before you can continue, “You’ve got nothing to lose then. Please, at least try. For me”

He’s sleepy, and his eyes kept closing, but he stayed up just to convince you.

You sighed, “Fine. I’ll apply, but don’t expect anything, please. You’ll be disappointed”

“You could never disappoint me” 

»»————-

Your days unfolded with a slow pace, summer fading away into the months of autumn. 

You found solace in your friends — in movie nights with Minho, in spending time with Yeonjun before he had to go back to work. After all, there was only so long he could be on vacation for. He had to go back to where he belonged. 

It was easier to not miss Hyunjin when you were occupied, busy with your endless shifts, navigating between finding time to paint but also to enjoy the leftovers of summer. 

The night they finished recording the album, Hyunjin called you drunk.

You’d seen him tipsy on a few occasions, but never like this.

He was laughing about something when you picked up, talking to other people at the party. The background was loud, and you struggle to hear anything. 

“Hyun?” 

“Guess what?” He asked you.

“What?”

“We finished the album. Like, for real. Every track is actually ready” He announced, and you hear a cacophony of sounds in the background, “We’re at my manager’s apartment, all of us, and the whole crew. It feels so fucking good”

“Congratulations” You smile, “That’s…really cool”

“Jisung made me drink…far too much” He giggled, “I liked the wine though, Chan found it in this cool store but then me and Binnie…we did body shots, and guess what? Chan fucking did body shots too! It was so insane. He also invited the girl from the art gallery, which is so funny. Apparently, she has connections in our industry too. She’s the daughter of --” 

“Wait, you did body shots?” You interrupted him, not really wanting to hear about the very successful artist prodigy girl in his life.

“It was insane. Just like Seungmin told us”

You could tell he was walking around the room, because he’d randomly trail off and talk to someone.

The more he rambled on the other side of the phone, the more you wished you were by his side. He must be standing near the speakers, because suddenly his voice would get drowned out by the music.

“I…can’t hear you, Hyun” You spoke, snuggling into your blanket. 

Your bed was the stark contrast of where he was right now; in a room full of pounding music, and you wondered what kind of parties they even had, or how wild they were. If they did body shots, they must already be pretty wild.

“Sorry” He apologised, walking off to a quieter area, “Can you hear me now?”

“Yeah, I can”

“Fuck. I miss you so fucking much” He suddenly mumbled, voice dropping, “Why aren’t you here?”

“I miss you too” Your heart squeezed, “But you should get back to the party—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that Y/N?” A loud voice interrupted, and you heard a loud struggle on the other end, making you pull back from the phone.

“Give me the phone back, Changbin!” Hyunjin yelled.

You sat up in bed, “Hello?”

“Hey!” Changbin’s voice was louder than you expected, and he sounded really drunk too, “You must be the girl who stole him away from us for months and months. I have every reason to hate you”

“Stop!” Hyunjin spoke in the background, “Don’t announce it to the entire party”

“Now you’ve taken him back though” You replied to Changbin.

“Eh, you’re right” He laughed, “So tell me, on a scale of 1 to 10—”

“Changbin, give me my phone back!” Hyunjin sounded exasperated, and you could imagine them running after each other.

“Let me finish!” He groaned, and then his voice became clearer again, “On a scale of 1-10, how big of a dumbass is Hwang Hyunjin for—?”

“Fuck. Is that her?” Another person interrupted in the background, and you felt overwhelmed by the multitude of voices. 

“Jisung, can you please ask him to give me my phone back?” Hyunjin sounded annoyed now, voice further.

“I’m sorry, this prick won’t let me talk to you for five whole minutes!” Changbin apologised, and you’d never met him but his energy seemed exactly like you’d imagined.

Still, you could hear Jisung in the background, struggling after the phone, and it made you feel special. They were miles away at a fucking album party, but gave their attention to you.

“Is that Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

Your eyes widened at the word.

Hyunjin’s frustrated drawl interrupted, further away from the speaker but you still heard it, “Stop, Jisung. She’s just my friend. How many times do I have to say that, and don’t announce it to the party!”

Your smile faded, stupidly. He was right. 

“Then I can have her?” Changbin interrupted.

There was another scuffle, until Hyunjin was at the phone again, “Hey, I’m so sorry. They…took you hostage”

A breathy chuckle followed, drowned out by his friends laughs in the background.

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it” You fiddled with your blanket, “You should enjoy the party, Hyun”

“No, no, I called you because I missed you”

“I can’t really even hear you” You spoke, “We can just talk tomorrow. Please just have a good time tonight, okay?”

“All right. I’ll call you later” Hyunjin spoke, like he was distracted by someone.

“Who are you talking to you?” An unknown voice interrupted, and you guessed they were probably talking to Hyunjin.

And you heard Hyunjin mumble, “Nobody” before he hung up.

You laid back in bed, and it was too quiet, and you felt lonelier than ever.

»»————-

Fallen leaves drifted in the pool, from the canopy up above. One drifts towards you, and you picked it up in your hands, watching the water seep through the half-eaten leaf. It’s orange.

“The leaves are already changing color…or is it just me?”

“It’s just you” Minho answered, and you roll your eyes.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” He asked, swimming over to you, “The rest of the party is over there”

“I’m not really interested in playing” You told him, looking over to where everyone indulged in a pool volleyball game.

“So you’re out here looking at leaves. God, I’m lucky to be your best friend”

“Shut up” You shove him, and he laughs, falling into the water.

As soon as he resurfaces, he splashes you.

“Don’t be annoying, Minho” You mumbled, rubbing the saltwater out from your eyes.

“You’re no fun” He grumbles, and lays on his back to float in the water.

You stare at the leaves floating around you again, drifting into a pattern, and a sole flower is in between them. A dahlia.

“Can’t believe summer is almost over” You remark.

“You sure made the most of it though, Y/N” He smiled, eyes squinting against the bright overhead sun. You don’t respond, and he lifts his head to look at you.

“What?” He asked, “You can’t deny that it’s the most eventful summer we’ve ever had”

You peered down at your nails, the paint was chipping off, “Right. Losing my best friends sure is memorable”

“You didn’t lose them, Y/N”

You gestured to the space around you, that usually would be occupied by Hana or Felix, “I don’t see them here”

Minho sighed, swimming closer to you, “What’s got you in such a mood?”

You shook your head, feeling silly for feeling this way, “Nothing” 

He rolled his eyes, “Tell me”

You sighed, fixing the straps of your bikini to avoid looking him in the eye, “Hana tried to talk to me a few days ago. She wanted to fix things, but I didn’t. Does that make me a horrible person?”

“Do you feel like a horrible person?”

You looked up at him, “No. I…chose my peace over another fight. I think I made the right decision”

“You knew the answer to that already, Y/N. Then what is bothering you?”

“Fine. Hyunjin called me last night, from the release party” 

“And that’s a bad thing…why?”

“Not really, I guess it put things into perspective. He’s…out there being successful and celebrating that success, and I’m here, doing absolutely nothing.”

“You’re at a pool party with me. That’s not nothing”

“You know what I mean” You sighed, leaning against the pool wall, “He’s probably even going to display his stuff at an art gallery soon. Some girl fell in love with his art…and he’s always busy…in a totally insane location, or doing something so fucking cool, and I’m in the stupid art shop”

His texts have been less than frequent. You understand, because he’s swamped with work. The press tour has been underway for a week now, and if he wasn’t at some fancy magazine building, he was probably holed up in the studio for re-recordings. There’s still time till the album's release, and if you know anything about the band, they’re perfectionists. They’ll work themselves to the bone, till the end.

“Well, yeah. He’s…an idol, with a crazy fucking life. You’re living a normal life. He would probably give everything to exchange places with you, and not have anything to do”

“I guess you’re right” You realised, and you glance up to see Yeonjun.

He’s laughing loudly, sunglasses on his head, as he throws the ball to the other team. He’s leaving soon, and this pool party is a going away gift. After all, he’s the only one of your friends with a pool. Yeonjun looks happy, and beautiful in the sun. It was low-key, exactly like Yeonjun wanted it, and you’re so glad Minho and him are on talking terms again.

“And I don’t believe you. That’s not why you’re upset” Minho spoke, blocking the boy from your view.

“Why can’t you just take my word for it?”

“Because I know when you’re lying to me. So tell me, what’s got you being so bitchy to your only friend within 35 miles?”

“Ouch!” He yelled, when you pushed him again.

“Stop being a smartass”

“You’ve been floating on cloud nine the past few weeks, what’s wrong now?”

You stare back at Yeonjun, as he dives to retrieve his sunglasses, and his other friends are teasing him.

“I never told you but I applied to an apprenticeship in the city” You blurted.

Minho’s eyebrows shot up, “What? Today?”

“No…a few months ago. At the start of summer” 

His brows were furrowed, confused, “Oh”

“That’s kind of why I’ve been working all these jobs…so I could save up one day and move to the city”

He swam closer to you, “Why are you telling me this now?”

You shrugged, and the water feels nice and calm around you, “I thought you’d hate me for it”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, “That’s not true. I’d like to think I’ve grown from when Yeonjun left. I mean I’m at his party right now. Isn’t that saying a lot?”

You smiled at him, “That’s probably why I’m telling you now”

Minho laughed, “So did you get it?”

“Nope” You sighed, “I wasn’t good enough for it”

“What, so you’ve given up already?”

You frowned, “No, but I’m still waiting on them to hear back. I contacted them again regarding my application”

Minho smiled, “Hyunjin knows, right?”

“Yeah”

“Of course he knows. You tell him literally everything. I’m gonna have to fight him one day”

You laughed, “I’d pay to see that”

He reaches forward, picking out a leaf stuck in your hair, “You really miss him, huh?”

“I hate texting him. It’s so impersonal and distant”

“Have you video-called him?”

You sighed, “Through my shitty computer screen, yeah”

“I think you need a vacation, Y/N” He laughs.

“I’ve been on vacation, like for months”

“No, I mean a vacation, away from your job, away from Daejon. Just go see him”

Your eyes widen and you looked at him, “Isn’t that a bit crazy? I mean, we’re not dating”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in to float, “The day you stop worrying about what other people think, is the day you’ll live a much better life, Y/N”

He then begins talking about other things, but his words stick in your head, and an idea begins to form.

»»————-

You help Yeonjun pack, and on his last night in town, you sit on his couch again, talking about everything that was. He tells you of his consistent fights with Hana, and his efforts to rekindle their relationship which went in vain. It’s strange to think he came back to town, just to make things right with her.

He tells you that him and Hana have grown apart, and perhaps they were never meant to be together. 

He says that he’s letting Hana go, and it’s a bittersweet moment which you drink to. 

You think nothing could make you let go of Hyunjin.

When you get really tipsy, you fantasise of him even more, and scroll back through your chats, reading his old texts, smiling to yourself. Yeonjun catches you, and calls you a hopeless romantic, and you’ve never thought of yourself that way, but it rings true. 

You both lay in bed, and you talk until he has to go, and you realise how much you hate goodbyes.

»»————-

The next time Hyunjin texted you, you were sat at the steps of the art shop, waiting for the rain to pass. 

hyun

hey

sorry ive been filming all day

you

ohh, what have you been filming?

didn’t the album recording finish last week?

hyun

ah no the press tour is still left 

you

oh right, sorry I have no idea how this stuff works lol

hyun

right now we’re doing some promo content for a teen magazine 

after this we still need to go to a music video shoot

It’s for an american talk show

isn’t that crazy?

you

wow…

you’re going to be so popular

but i hope you can get some sleep

hyun

we’re filming till 4 am tonight

i doubt it

what are you up to?

you

um im stuck at aeras because of the rain :/

i always forget to carry an umbrella

hyun

you miss me?

You stared at the text, tears inexplicably filling your eyes, and you don’t know why.

It had only been a few weeks since he was gone, yet it felt like he was drifting away.

Of course you missed him.

You missed him an insane amount, and ever since he’d been gone, you’d been going through the motions of daily life, not even really enjoying anything.

He was so far away. 

You’d tried to not let the sadness overtake you, because it was silly and childish.

You missed his calming voice, and his hand in yours, and the taut string of tension between you every time you met.

You missed the uncertainty of Hyunjin.

The not-knowing.

With him, you could never tell. It could be a mundane afternoon, until it wasn’t. Until his hands were around you, and you were kissing, and you knew it was so wrong to be attached to that.

Your phone buzzed, and he was calling you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Hey” You mumbled, your voice softer and shakier than you intended.

“Is everything okay…?”

“Yeah” You swallowed, “Sorry, I was just about to reply”

“No, don’t worry. I just got worried. I thought—” He trailed off.

“What did you think?”

“I thought I crossed a boundary…or something”

You paused, trying to comprehend his words. All he’d done was ask you if you missed him. How could that be a boundary when you and Hyunjin had said so much more? Done so much more? 

Was missing each other not even okay anymore? Was it too much for him?

Another sob threatened to break at the implication.

“Y/N? Are you still there?” He asked, voice soft and calm, not knowing the storm it brewed inside you.

You mumbled, “Yes, I’m here”

“Okay” He spoke, letting you breathe.

“I’m sorry, I just…I guess I miss you more than I thought I would” You admitted, hoping it wouldn’t be too much for him. That it wouldn’t push him away.

“Oh” 

“Yeah”

“I…miss you too, Y/N” 

It calmed your racing heart.

“I wish I could see you” You fumbled through the words, “It’d make me feel so much…better”

Hyunjin was quiet for a while, “I’m sorry”

“It’s…not your fault” A smile graced your lips, because he had no reason to apologise for your lives being so separate from each other.

“It is. I’m sorry I’ve been away…I got really caught up with everything here. Seeing my friends again, having this life back, it was more overwhelming than I thought. But don’t worry…I’m doing really well here”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been painting a lot more when I’m free, or when I’ve had a horrible day”

Your heart clenched at his tone, and the implication that it was only a few weeks since he was gone but he’d already had multiple horrible days. 

“Yeah? I’m glad it helps. That means…coming home wasn’t a waste”

“A waste?” He repeated, confused, “Why would you say that?”

You pulled at your laces, watching the rain fall at your footsteps, “Nothing, Hyunjin. It doesn’t matter”

“You seem…upset. Did I say something wrong?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, away from the pitter patter of the drops, “I told you. I really wish you were here. I know it’s impossible”

“Yeah…”

“This morning, I was watching the news…about Jisung’s trial. How’s it going?”

“It’s…okay. He’s so tired already, he kind of just wants to settle but the company lawyers are pushing for more”

“I’m sorry. That sounds so exhausting” You bite your lip, because their lives are already as stressful as they could get, and this legal battle plays in the backdrop like a nuisance.

“They’re also restricting a lot of shit for us. We have to be careful each time we step out in public, and Jisung even has to monitor every phone call…same with Chan and Kairi”

“How long is it going to last?”

“Hopefully not too long, but anyway, that’s not important right now at all. You sound upset. How are you?” He asks, voice becoming softer all of a sudden.

You fear you’re going to sound like a broken record if you tell him you miss him again. These days you seem to fill all your silences with just those words. Would he get sick of hearing them? Is this how long distance relationships are like? Endlessly telling each other you miss them, but never being able to do anything about it.

Instead, you end up saying something absolutely crazy, “Hyun, can I come see you?”

You don’t intend for the words to leave your brain, much less your mouth. In fact, you didn’t even know you were going to say them. You haven’t had time to plan, but Minho’s conversation rings through you. You’ve been saving up to go to Seoul your whole life. You can spare a vacation. It would be worth it if it means you see him.

Hyunjin is quiet, and then he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “W-what?”

“Um, sorry that sounds out of nowhere. I just…I really want to meet you. I miss you, and it sounds like you’re going through a lot. Maybe it’ll help” You trail off, leaving the suggestion up in the air.

“I…I’m not sure, Y/N”

You nod, because it is crazy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fuck, I’m so sorry but I…I don’t think I can meet you. Right now, with everything that’s going on, I honestly don’t have the time and…” He trails off.

You nod again, “Yeah. I understand”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay. It’s bad timing”

“It’s bad timing” He repeats, yet his tone is definitive and final.

You can’t seem to see a time in the future which would get better. After the album release, he was going to go on a press tour, and then start preparing for the next album, the music videos, the solo photoshoots…the world tour.

Hyunjin was never going to have time for this, and your throat becomes clogged with a broken dream.

He sighed, softly, “How are you going to get home then, if it’s raining?”

“I’ll wait it out”

“What if it rains till morning?”

You smiled, your silence saying enough.

“I’ll stay with you” He says.

Your brows shot up, “What? Don’t you have…a schedule or an interview to get to?”

His voice came in softly, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll stay with you, till the rain ends”

Now, you wished it would never end.

»»————-

The incessant abuse of your doorbell woke you up. It had been pressed countless times, and it was half past nine. 

Why the hell would anybody come to see you this early?

Last night, Hyunjin had stayed on the call as you’d walked home by yourself. You didn’t talk the whole way, of course. In between, he would be quiet, and you’d only hear the rustling of papers and his pencil as he sketched away in his condominium. You’d hear his breaths, and occasionally, he’d say something. 

In moments like this, he was a man of few words. You appreciated that, because it was nice, to just exist with him. Although, you were slightly embarrassed at how many times you told him you missed him.

Turning over in your bed, you pushed the pillow over your head to make the noise disappear. 

A buzzing of your phone, followed by another short bursts of the doorbell made you sit up.

Who could be here to see you, so urgently, and so fucking impatiently?

“What the hell” You mumbled, getting out of bed, and rushing barefoot on the cold tiles, to answer, and in your sleepy daze you hoped it was him. That by some miracle, Hyunjin had heard your wishes and come to see you.

On the other side of the door, with bagels in hand, stood Felix. 

A hood pulled over his head to protect from the rain, he certainly looked a vision. 

Your sleep disappeared, in lieu of confusion, “Yongbok?”

He smiled, perfect teeth on display, “Morning. I…see that you were still asleep”

You hugged yourself, realising how exposed you were in your sleep shorts and tank. Although that had never been a problem around him before, “I mean yeah…it’s barely ten”

He cocked his head, “It’s almost noon”

“What?” Your heart dropped, “You’re kidding me”

“I’m really not” He laughed, and then said, “Are you going to let me in? It’s freezing out here”

You realised he was standing in the pouring rain, and you stepped back, “Oh, of course”

You still didn’t know what he was doing here, but years of friendship fell back into place and you let him in.

He pulled the hood off, shaking his hair to get the water out, and looked apologetic, “Sorry, I just showed up. I did try texting you, and I thought you’d be awake”

“I got in late last night” You told him, still standing against your open door, watching Felix in your foyer.

“Oh, were you stuck because of the rain? You could have called me, I’d have come picked you up” 

“No, that’s okay. I was on a call”

Realisation crossed his features, “Right. How is he?”

Slight irritation coursed through you, “I didn’t say it was him”

Felix nodded, looking genuinely apologetic, “Sorry. My mistake.”

But of course, he was right because it was Hyunjin you were talking to, but you wouldn’t admit that now, and you held back a groan. 

His eyes flickered over your body, “Why are you still standing at the door? You’ll catch a cold”

“What are you doing here?” You hugged yourself tighter, well-aware that you didn’t even have a bra on, “The last time I saw you, you said you didn’t want to be friends with me anymore”

His eyebrows shot up, and he stared at you.

For a second, you did regret it. It was too early to fight. It was too beautiful a morning for this.

Until he laughed, nervously, “Um…that’s not what I meant. Is that what you got from it?”

You frowned, “What?”

He shook his head, “Um, I guess I really didn’t get the point across. I thought you understood me that night. Isn’t that why you’re avoiding me?”

Your head hurt, “I’m not avoiding you…You’re confusing me, Felix. It’s too early for this”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Hey, look, why don’t you get dressed, and take a shower, and I can make us some coffee…and heat up these bagels by then? After that, maybe we could talk?”

“Talk about what?”

You couldn’t understand him.

“About everything. I realise I’ve been apologising for my actions, but never really explaining why I acted that way this whole time”

But he had been your friend your entire life…so you would hear him out now.

»»————-

He sat at your breakfast table, warm bagels laid out across a plate, with two hot cups of coffee.

You sat across him, pulling your feet up, eyeing his movements.

It wasn’t alien to you…this kindness of his. He had done this countless times before, showed up at your house uninvited, but this time was different, of course.

“I really am sorry for waking you up. I genuinely thought you’d be awake, I thought you had a shift at Aera’s”

“I haven’t had a shift at Aera’s on Tuesday, ever” You responded.

“Oh” He laughed, “Maybe I should have memorised your work schedule back when you started working there…I guess I always assumed it was a temporary job”

You bit into a bagel, unable to hold back your hunger, and it instantly melted in your mouth. A rush of endorphins flooded through you, and you sat back for a minute, letting the taste sit with you, letting your body wake up.

Felix watched you, a soft smile on his face, “You like them?”

“You didn’t have to bake these for me” You spoke, staring at your feet, perched on the chair.

“But I did” He reached his hand out, across the table, “How are you doing?”

You glanced up at him, “I’m…fine”

He frowned, “Your eyes are all swollen. I know what that means”

You pulled your hand back from his, “It’s nothing. I’m just tired of summer”

He sat back, eyebrows raised, “Those are words I never thought I’d hear from you”

“Well…you won’t really understand, Lix”

He slid the cup of coffee towards you, “Try me” 

You stared at him, eyes flickering between his, and then reached forward for the cup, “I don’t know. I feel tired of everything lately. I don’t really want to make an effort to go out. I go to work, and back, and so on. It’s kind of a futile existence”

“I go to the Creek every night. You can come with me”

You hugged yourself, “Yeah, but I just feel like there’s more I should be doing”

His tongue poked his cheek, “You mean…that art apprenticeship” 

You glanced up at him, heart heavy, “I lost that”

“I’m sorry. You could have told me, you know?”

You’ve been hearing that a lot recently, but you know keeping it a secret was the only way it could have worked. He said he would have understood, but you knew him better than that.

“I was afraid of losing you, but…” You laughed, “That happened anyway”

He shook his head, pulling his chair closer to yours, “At the drive-in theatre, when I said I didn’t want us to be friends again…I didn’t mean it like that. There was more I wanted to say, which I couldn’t”

“Wow, you’re really getting right to it”

He laughed, “What? So, would you prefer we talk about nonsense for another hour? I know why I’m here, I’d feel better if you know too”

You weren’t sure you wanted to hear this, but you nodded, “Keep going”

“I guess what I wanted to say was…” He paused, and when your eyes met his, you realised he was actually nervous.

“Yeah?”

His eyes squeezed shut, and then opened, “I was really fucking jealous”

“Of…what?”

He laughed, a sound you’d loved all these years, “Of…Hyunjin. Obviously. Who else?”

“Felix…we talked about this. You have nothing to be jealous about. Just because he’s in my life now, does not mean you can’t be”

He laughed, “No, that’s not what I’m jealous of. I don’t really care if he’s in your life”

“Then what?” 

He sighed, leaning forward, and this angle put him in the path of sunlight. It lit up his face, highlighting the freckles splashed across his nose bridge, and his cheeks, and you saw his lips part to form the words, “You love him.”

Confusion arising, you frowned, “Felix—”

“Let me finish” He laughed, “It’s…been obvious for months”

You were embarrassed, to say the least.

He tilt his head, “Has it not been obvious to you?” 

Your face flushed, from the frustration and the embarrassment, “What, my feelings for him?”

“No. My feelings for you"

He said it so simply.

So fucking simple, and you couldn’t even react.

You sat there, looking at him.

Putting together his words in your mind. Again. And Again.

You misheard him. You had to.

“Yongbok”

“It is what you think it is” He paused, “I really thought that you knew”

“You…” A nervous laugh escaped you, and it wasn’t your proudest moment, “You have feelings for me? You’re fucking with me, right?”

You wanted to ask why. But you didn’t.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know” He leaned back, “I…didn’t really realise it until, well, this summer”

“Oh”

“Yeah” He swallowed, “But I know that you don’t feel the same, and I was acting stupid. It was dumb of me”

You stared at him and don’t know how you didn’t realise this. How did you not put two and two together? You felt so fucking dumb for missing all the hints, and all the clues. 

“Yongbok. I…um, I don’t know what to say. Sorry, I’m just…overwhelmed and confused”

"You don’t have to say anything” He laughed, “You’re like…my best friend in the fucking universe. I know that doesn’t sound like much, because I mean, we’re twenty and best friends makes it sound like we’re in elementary, but it’s true. You’re literally the most consistent person in my life, and I’m always fucking happy around you. Not just happy, but at peace. I’m happy with Hana, and Minho, and Eunbi too, but with you, it’s like I’m home.”

You couldn’t look him in the eye, “Felix…”

“I’m sorry for all the times I yelled at you. I’m fucking terrible at holding back my frustration, and I was still navigating my…emotions. I could lie and say I never meant to hurt you when we had all those arguments, but I did. I did want you to feel the kind of hurt I did. That’s probably the biggest red flag” He laughed, “But holy shit, Y/N, you have no idea what it took for me to tell you this. With him being here, I just couldn’t because that’s so fucking cliche, it’d be like I was asking you to choose”

You stared at him, uncomfortable, unable to comprehend the extent of his words, “You should have told me”

“I’m telling you now. I know it’s awkward for you, but I have nothing to lose” He chuckled, “I’m not asking you out, or anything. I just want you to know because it was driving me crazy keeping it to myself. In fact, I was never planning to tell you, but the night of my birthday party, during that stupid spin the bottle game, when we kissed, I thought you felt the same”

You remembered the kiss. 

It had surprised you how much you liked it.

“I mean, you’re a really good kisser” You admitted, picking from crumbs from the bagel.

He laughed, “Am I?”

“Yeah” 

“I try” He smirked, and you know he was trying to lighten the mood. It was so typical of him to make jokes out of an awkward situation, “You’re a really good kisser too. I know after the party, I gave you a 7.5 on the kissing scale, but…I was obviously kidding”

You looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded, still smiling, “I’m sure Hyunjin would agree with me”

Just like that, the bubble popped.

Your smile fell.

“Sorry” He apologised, “You guys have kissed, right?”

“Yeah”

“And he still went back to Seoul?” He laughed, “Man, being an idol really sucks”

“Yongbok…”

“Okay” He laughed, “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh”

You didn’t know what this was, or what to make of it.

What are you supposed to say that? You felt an obligation, to return his feelings, despite all the arguments you had in the recent months, you wish you could return them. 

You didn’t want to be the one breaking his heart, or anybody’s. 

Is this how Hyunjin would feel if you’d told him you loved him? 

Would you have also lightened your inevitable rejection by stupid humour? 

You don’t know what you can possibly say to Yongbok, to make things okay.

So later, when he’s helping you wash the cups, foam-filled hands, you ask him, “Are you going to be okay?”

Yongbok looks up at you, a soft smile on his features, and you again realise how beautiful he looked in the sunlight. His skin is lit up, a kindness in his eyes has returned, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, and he tells you he’s okay.

He tells you not to worry, and that you owe him nothing. He then dips his hand in the foamy sink, reaching up to smear some on your nose, a childlike laughter filling your kitchen.

You wonder if you would feel the same relief, if you confessed the truth to Hyunjin.

»»————-

Your phone rings later that evening, and it’s Hyunjin.

He asks you if you’re okay, and if you’re better than you were yesterday.

You were on the brink of tears last night.

Today, you are better.

Yongbok’s words come back to you, and you wonder why you don’t love him. It sure would have made everything a little easier. 

Everything makes sense now, the way he’s been acting all summer, his behaviour around Hyunjin, and you feel a little stupid for being so oblivious to it.

When you drift off into thought, Hyunjin asked you again, if you were okay.

“I met Yongbok” You responded.

His voice lit up, at your rekindled friendship, “Yeah? What did you guys do?”

You tell him about the bagels, and the coffee, and because you can never keep anything from Hyunjin, you end up blurting, “He told me he loves me. That he has his entire life”

You don’t know why you say it. You’re looking for a reaction. Or for consolation.

But Hyunjin is quiet on the other end, and he doesn’t say much for the rest of the night, and you wonder if you should have just kept it to yourself.

»»————-

Hyunjin doesn’t call you the next day, or the next, or the one after that. 

You try to distract yourself, stealing away work hours into painting. 

Each brushstroke soothed you, and you pour out your emotions. 

Unrequited love is a bitch, and you feel guilty every time you see Felix, but he’s more than okay. You can’t imagine being the same. 

Your paintings end up all looking really sad. They make you feel sad when you look at them, and you realise you’re only painting of longing.

Hyunjin finally texts you.

It’s only to tell you that Chan and Kairi broke up.

He doesn’t say much more, but he doesn’t have to.

You knew what they meant to them, and perhaps this breakup impacted him more than them.

You go back to painting your solitude. 

It’s calming, under the glow of your lamp, tucked in a corner of your room, you lose yourself in your art. 

Autumn is closer than it was yesterday, and it makes you sad. Summer is further away in your past now, and so is he.

Hyunjin’s texts get less frequent, as the days go by.

You feel obsessive, you feel just a little crazy.

You feel like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to call back.

Your heart breaks a little more with each hour that he doesn’t call.

You’re worried all the time, if he was okay.

You read about the scandals on the news, and the rumours on the internet, and some of them involve him but most of them involve Jisung. 

Yeonjun keeps you updated on the trial, and all the press outlets that Jisung has sued. 

Hyunjin doesn’t have space in his life for a relationship, but as days pass, it feels like he doesn’t for a friendship either.

hyun

hey yn

im so sorry

i’ve had a horrible schedule the past few days

they’re really trying to make up for everything I missed

i haven’t been sleeping much and i just…haven’t got much time on my phone

my managers have been really strict

they limit my activities on there

but don’t worry im okay

i spend most of my time in the studio

i miss you too. a lot

His replies soothe you, more than your own art ever could. 

You fall into a habit. You check the news each morning, even before your first sip of coffee, worried if he’s okay.

Hyunjin keeps telling you he’s fine, and you force yourself to believe him.

He sends you pictures of his art, and you notice how much he’s improved. He’s using all of the techniques you taught him. He’s painting about all of his days in your hometown.

Other nights, you don’t hear from him at all.

You feel it falling apart, and your heart breaks.

One day, he asks you about Yongbok again. 

You question if you should never have told him about the confession.

»»————-

The day his album releases, you listen to it before anybody in the world, or at least you’d like to believe so. 

It’s beautiful, and it’s raw. It’s a mix of every genre you can imagine. Hyunjin sings about love like he’s been in it. The album is more beautiful than you could anticipate, and you can already see the headlines surrounding it’s success.

Felix takes you to a store in Samhae, so you can purchase it for yourself, and when you find yourself in a line of twenty girls talking about him, you feel like fighting them.

You borrow Yuqi’s car, so you can push the CD into the stereo, and hear it before you can even get home.

The music Hyunjin makes is beautiful as him, and you hear the vocal fry, and the cadence he speaks with, and you fall in love with him even more.

It feels like cheating, as Felix sits in the passenger seat, listening to the same songs.

You wanted to ask him what he thinks of the album, but you hold back.

When you got home, you sat in the darkness of your room, and listened to it again, just by yourself. 

You called him to tell him what you think of it, but he’s at a party and he has no time for this. 

So you end up keeping your thoughts just to yourself. 

»»————-

You stared at the letter mail within your hands.

It arrived a few days ago, but you hadn’t noticed it until now.

It had been lying in your mailbox, gathering dust, and you stood on the sidewalk, wondering how you the hell you missed it.

It was from the city.

Your heart dropped into your gut, as you ripped open the envelope, making sure not to damage the contents inside.

You took a deep breath.

Holy shit.

It was going to be a rejection.

It had to be.

You stood absolutely still on the pavement, unfolding the letter. It’s so thin you’re afraid you’re going to rip it.

You can’t read this alone. You wish Hyunjin would here, it’d probably feel less scary.

But you can’t wait either. You need to know now.

You scanned the paper, yet your brain couldn’t comprehend the sentences, and skipped forward, registering only certain words. Like a record skipping.

A word stands out to you.

Congratulations.

And then you go back to the start of the letter, trying to make sense of what you just read, but your heart is already beating out of your chest and you think you’re going to pass out.

Congratulations.

Kim Jieong would be honoured to have you join him as an apprentice for his Fall Program in Painting at the Atelier of the Arts in Seoul, South Korea.

You reread the words until they were seared into your mind, and into your heart.

You read them until the paper became wet with droplets, and you realise you were crying. 

On the side of the sidewalk. 

Then you read them again.

You folded the piece of paper into your pocket, and you texted the boy you loved.

hyunjin!

when can i call you?

i have something to tell you

it’s really important

You wait for his answer, but your message doesn’t deliver.

So you sat down on your front porch, trying to calm your heart but you’re bursting with excitement and anticipation. You’ve already texted Felix and Minho, but you’re only waiting for one person’s reaction.

You need to tell him now. 

He could be busy. He could be at work, or in bed, but you don’t care.

He has to be the first to know.

You find yourself dialling his number, and your hands are shaking, and your heart is trembling.

Hyunjin doesn’t pick up.

And you’re met with an unfamiliar message.

“We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

»»————-

THREE MONTHS LATER

»»————-

“Take my hand if you don’t wanna fall” 

You looked up, and Felix is smiling down at you, the sun a halo around his head.

He’s got pink skates on, and it suits him. 

The brightness of them stands out in the park.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who’s fallen over…thrice now?” Minho laughs, coming to stand next to you, arms on his hips.

“I’ll be fine, Lix” You smiled, tightening the laces of your roller-skates.

“Let me at least help you up” He insisted.

You nodned, letting him take your hand and pull you up. You’re inches from him when you stand up, and he smiled at you.

“See you at the rink in a few?” He tilt his head.

“I’ll see you, Lix”

He let go of your hand, and you miss the steadiness it gave you, but almost instantly Minho comes to your side. With a hand on your back, he leads you to the rink. You’re still getting used to these roller-skates, and you’ve fallen over more than you’d liked.

“Aren’t you glad I dragged you out here?” He nudged you.

“Sure” You smiled at him, trying to match his pace. 

It’s a beautiful day at the park. There’s a harvest festival, where Felix bobbed for apples, and you cheered for him. Then Minho forced you all onto the rink, bringing you a new pair of skates since you couldn’t find your old ones. As you skated around the park with your friends, it almost feels like the old days.

The leaves had changed color.

The days were shorter now, and the sun hung low in the sky, the temperature dropping to single digits.

With the onset of fall, you stopped swimming in the Creek, and the fireflies disappeared, and you never left the house without a cardigan anymore. 

Aera’s kept you busy, and so did the weekends at The Château. You and Seungmin grew even closer, and you found joy in interacting with travelling tourists, searching for artistic pursuits and adventure in your little town. 

Felix explored his love for baking with you, and you recreated everything in his recipe book… except for the strawberry streusels. Yeonjun consistently kept in touch with, and told you of his life in the city, the drama in his workplace, and about the cute new girl that sat across him at work. 

You fell in love with the palette of autumn, and all your artworks became tinged with shades of orange and red. All of your sweaters became tainted with paint splatters, and the walls of your room became full with your memories of the summer.

“Are you going to take these with you? I bought them for you, full-price mind you” Minho asked you.

You sighed, “I don’t know”

“There has to be places in Seoul to skate in” He thought, and grabbed your hand so you can speed up. You smiled, feeling the wind on your face, desperately trying to not lose your balance.

“I don’t think I have space in my suitcase” You told him, as he stopped. 

Felix is on the other side, and he’s smiling at you. He looks cute, and he’s with his sister. She’s in matching pink rollerblades, and Felix has spent more than an hour teaching her how to skate.

There’s a couple next to them, and they’re holding hands and skating, and they keep kissing, and your chest hurts with the thought of him.

You haven’t been able to talk to him in months…

He doesn’t even know you got into the program.

His number changed, and he closed all of private social media.

“Hey?” Minho said, turning your head to look at him, and he can read your mind, “You’ll find him once you get to the city, it’s only a matter of time”

You frowned, “How? I don’t even know where he lives…I don’t even know if he’s okay”

“Well, you obviously know he’s alive” Minho joked, “He looks pretty good in all the interviews they did”

“I’m just worried about him” You mumbled, “It feels weird to go this long without hearing from him”

“It’s probably something with the company. Hyunjin told you how controlling they were, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but…he’s not a kid. How can they control this shit in his life?”

You’ve had this same conversation millions of times before, over the past three months, but you still can’t understand what happened. You had tried every way to get in touch with him, but with how famous he was right now…it was impossible.

It’s not even like you can go to Facebook and add him as a fucking friend. 

“I can ask Felix to try” Minho asked.

“No” You insist, “It’s not gonna make a difference. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll see him soon”

You can’t help but have hope. At the beginning, you were worried, and then you were angry but now you’re just confused. You know he’d never change his contact information without telling you, or even Minho, or Seungmin. 

Something went wrong.

A huge reason you’re excited to go to Seoul, is so you can finally meet him, and know what happened, how he’s been, and if he’s okay.

You heard Felix call out to you.

“Wait, Y/N” Minho grabbed your arm, “I’m sure he’s even more upset than you”

Over the past few months, Minho has discussed all of his theories with you, about what could have happened. He’s so sure, that Hyunjin’s company is involved. You want to believe him, because there’s no way Hyunjin would do this.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Felix asked, skating over to you, and from where you stand, he really looked like a fairy, long hair blowing in the wind.

“Nothing important” You smiled at him, “Wanna skate with me now?”

“Always” He grinned. You let him take your hand, and pull you around the rink, guiding you through groups of friends, children and couples. 

“What are you wearing to the party tonight?” He asks, after a while, and his hand landed on your waist, helping you balance.

“Whatever outfit I haven’t packed” You admitted, honestly.

“Come on, you’re the star of the night” He spun in front of you, “You should wear the blue dress, the one you wore to Yeonjun’s party last year”

Tonight is the going away party that Minho is throwing for you. You can’t believe it’s already time. You leave tomorrow.

Everything has been building up to this, and you’re so excited, you think you could burst. You’re anxious too, because everything has to go right, it’s only what you’ve been dreaming about.

Your acceptance letter is tucked into a book, and it feels like only yesterday that you found out, but it’s already been months.

The night you got accepted, Felix baked you a chocolate cake. You were too shaken up, and confused about the fact that you couldn’t get through to Hyunjin, but you had to celebrate.

Felix… distracts you from all your worries. You’re grateful for his company.

“I don’t want to be the star” You told him.

Felix rolled his eyes, “You deserve it, love, and you have no choice”

You had been anxious about Hyunjin for months, confused, and heartbroken, but you have bigger things to worry about.

The program starts in a week, and you don’t have enough time to prepare.

Yet, you’ve been preparing for it all your life.

The money you’ve saved up happens to just be enough for a studio apartment, and Yeonjun helped you find a place in a busy neighbourhood.

Not that it mattered.

You would sleep in the subway if you had to, if it means you’ll get to learn from The Kim Jieong. The artist you’ve looked up to all your life, your inspiration, your muse, and your everything.

Later that night, Minho helped you pack, and you take only what you need. You can’t afford to leave your supplies at home, like he did, so you packed all of them. You keep aside the tattered brushes, because the city kids would definitely disapprove. 

Your suitcase filled up quickly, with an array of watercolours, and acrylics, and pastels, and you compromised on your clothes.

You only pack your favourite coat, and your dark sweaters, and the skirts you didn’t wear here yet.

The going away party is small, and you love and hate every part of it. You wear the blue dress Felix wanted you to. Everybody there tells you you’ll do well, and you wonder if any of them secretly resent you, if they think you’re another person who gave into the city's false charms. Everybody who moves to the city from a small town is always celebrated, but you know you’ll probably be hated when you’re actually gone.

You’re in such a daze throughout, you don’t realise the importance of that night.

You’re not going away for long, but it’s still a huge deal.

The apprenticeship has a low acceptance rate, and they hardly take any students from Korea. It’s mostly international kids, and you can’t believe you get the chance to be amongst them.

After the party, you and Felix stay to help Minho clean up, and you stand on the threshold of the doorway, to catch your breath. Felix threw away the last of the beer bottles, and stood opposite you, leaning on the other end.

Your arms are folded behind your back, and you smile at him.

“I can’t believe Seonmi tried to get us to play spin the bottle again” 

You sigh, “I’m glad Minho shut them down”

Felix laughs, and then his shoulders sag as the laughter dies down, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired” You tell him, “But…I’m really fucking excited too”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving” He mumbles, for the tenth time that night, and he pushes his hands in his pockets.

“It’s not like I’m moving away forever” You tell him, “The apprenticeship is just a temporary program”

“But isn’t the point of it to get a job in the city?” He asks.

“There’s only a few spots open, for the people that perform the best”

“Then you’re definitely not coming back” He says, smiling, placing unwavering faith in you.

“We’ll see” You shrug.

“Is he coming to pick you up from the station?” He asks.

You nod, “If he can make it. He’s been busy recently”

“You promise to keep me in your life?” He suddenly asks, tilting his head. You notice his hair’s grown longer in the fall, falling to his shoulders. The blonde suits him, the glow of the porch lights sharpen his cheekbones, and the shadows on his face.

“You’d push your way back, even if I didn’t” You tell him.

He laughs, knowing it’s the truth, “I’ve had the privilege of knowing you since we were…kids. I’m never letting you go, you know that?”

His words are meant to comfort you, but the irony doesn’t fail to strike.

He must have noticed the fall in your expression, because he steps forward, “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m…kind of a little terrified” You admit, eyes downcast, watching the pink shoelaces of Felix’s worn-out shoes.

“You’ve been painting your whole life. Everybody’s going to fall in love with you there, I can bet my life on that”

“I only need Kim Jieong to fall in love with me” You joke.

“And he will. You’ll spare no one”

You swallow, “Thank you. I know you never really wanted me to move away. But I’m really glad you understand how much this means to me”

“I rather you be away from me than be miserable in this little town” He admits, and his finger meets the end of your chin. He tilts your head up, so you’re looking him right in the eye.

“That doesn’t sound like you” You mumble.

He rolls his eyes, “I know. The things I do for you”

You smile, “Thank you”

“I’m really gonna miss you” He admits, “You’ll come home for the next summer though, right?”

You nod, and his hand is still on your chin, “Of course. I’ll be here”

His lips pull up into a smile, and his eyes are bright, and the freckles on his skin look far too much like stardust right now.

“You’ll be here. That’s why summer’s my favourite season” He mumbles, but his voice is suddenly hoarse now, half of his words lost in his mouth. 

He’s staring right at you, and you feel the breath leave your lungs. 

It reminds you of the night of his birthday and how he came to your rescue, kissing you to save you from embarrassment.

“Can I kiss you?” He suddenly asks you, the depth of his voice prickling through you.

Apparently, he was thinking of the same thing.

The words throw you for a loop, but yet they don’t. 

He knows you don’t feel the same way for him. He knows that you’re in love with someone else. But he still asks. It’s a goodbye kiss. It doesn’t mean much more. 

So, you say yes, and he swallows your words in a kiss.

He presses you up against the doorway, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours, and his hands hold you, and all you can think about how is how different this feels.

It’s not that you’ve given up on Hyunjin. In fact, in a few days, you’ll be closer to him than you’ve ever been, under the same night sky, breathing the same air.

Your hands stay behind you, pressed into the doorway, and you feel the slightest urge to run them through his hair, but you don’t. 

Felix kisses you sweetly, and when he pulls away, there’s no awkwardness. He lets out a laugh, pulling playfully at your cheeks and mumbles something about making sure you don’t miss the train in the morning.

That night, when you’re packing away the last of your things, you reached for the sketchbook you had left at Hyunjin’s house. It laid by your bedside, but you haven’t opened it in weeks. You decided to take it with you, if only for the memories and the sketches you’ll make on the journey.

As you reach to put it in your suitcase, something dropped from within its pages and landed on the wooden floor.

Frowning, you bent down to pick it up. 

It’s a vertical photo strip, and when you flip it over, your breath stops in your throat.

It’s the pictures from the photobooth.

Of you and Hyunjin kissing, in the pink lights.

How the fuck did that get in here?

You’re absolutely sure he had deleted them, right in front of your own eyes.

It stirs memories within you, plunging you right back into that moment, the hot, heavy kisses that you shared, the tightness with which he gripped your hips, the urgency with which you touched each other.

Your core tightened, and you sit on the floor to take a breath.

You stared at the strip of pictures. Your first instinct is to text him, and ask where he got them, but you can’t even contact him. 

It’s another question you can’t wait to ask him, when you finally see him again.

A tsunami of feelings overwhelms you, and you know that you can’t blame him for this sudden rift between you, because you can still feel the intensity with which he held you, and moments like that can’t be temporary.

A new buzz runs through your veins, and you hold the photo strip tight to your chest, wondering when it would be real again.

»»————-

The stars in the sky were replaced by the skyscraper lights, as your train hurtled closer to its destination.

Clutching your ticket in your hand, your eyes were peeled to the window, watching the city skyline become closer, and closer, until the buildings loomed over you. 

You’d seen the city through pixels and in coffee table books but never like this. 

Your camera ran out of film before you’d even arrived, and perhaps you should have prepared for that. You couldn’t stop your excitement. Everything was new, and everything was gorgeous. You took pictures of your ticket, of your seat, of the view.

You have to document this. In every form possible.

The cute boy across you even offered to share a pack of Peppero sticks halfway through the ride, and you hoped everybody in the city was as kind as him.

There were more people at the platform than in the entirety of Daejon, and you held your bags tightly to you, making your way through the crowd. At a certain point, you weren’t even walking, just pushed toward the nearest exit, going with the flow of the crowd around you. 

Each breath brought a new scent, fighting for your attention in the crowd. The musty luggage that had travelled all over the country being dragged against the concrete. 

There must be a cafe nearby, because the aroma of coffee wafted through the air, and it wasn’t till the scent of pastries hit you that you realised you were starving.

There’d be time for food later.

The faint hint of cologne and perfume clouded your senses, different kinds of fragrances worn by the people who walked through the station.

It was overwhelming, a sensory overload, but you had expected this chaos.

You welcomed it.

He was waiting for you at the platform.

Relief flooded through you at the familiar face amongst the crowd. 

“Look at her” He remarked, a small smile overtaking him.

“Fuck” You ran up to him, navigating through the few people still in your way. 

His arms wrapped around you immediately, lifting you off the ground momentarily, and his scent was familiar and it was known, and it calmed you instantly. You buried your face in his neck, letting him hold you to his body in the crowd.

“You’re here” He breathed, pulling back to look at you, eyes wide.

“I missed you” You admitted, reaching out to grab his hand, “Thank you…for coming to pick me up”

He squeezed yours in return, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world” 

“No, I’m serious. Thank you, Yeonjun”

He stared at you, eyes crinkling in appreciation and love, “You don’t have to thank me”

The crowd moved around you, like a river around a rock, as you held him close to you. 

Everything was unfamiliar here, but him.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here” He smiled, grabbing your bags.

Walking out of the station felt like stepping into a dream you’d forgotten.

You’d studied these streets, and dreamt of these buildings, but now you stood amongst them. Awe and fascination swelled in your heart, and if it wasn’t for Yeonjun keeping a hold on you, you’d probably stop and stare at every little thing.

The neon lights danced along the alleyways, casting colors onto everyone around you.

It was so typical. 

It was just like the movies.

You picked up on snippets of conversations, leftovers of drama, but it was crazy, because for the first time, you didn’t know who they were gossiping about. There were no familiar faces or names, a reality you could never live before.

In the distant, you could hear street musicians and you stopped, pulling at Yeonjun’s sleeve, “Can we go see that?”

You’ve seen far too many Youtube videos about this, and you have been waiting to experience this yourself.

He laughed, gesturing to your luggage, “With all this stuff in our hands?”

“Right” You realised.

“Hey, we can always come back to this. Let’s get you settled in first, yeah?” He said, reaching forward to tuck your hair back in a gesture that soothed you.

“I know. I just…I’m excited. Sorry” You apologised.

“Don’t be sorry. I was the same my first day here” He said, sincerely, “I’m glad I have you to share this with. Although you’re already doing better than me, I was so overwhelmed”

You swallowed, “I am too, but…I want to be”

Yeonjun’s lips curled up into a smile, “Yeah?”

“I’ve thought about this moment for a long time, Jun”

“I know” He smiled, then tugged at your hand, “Now come on, we’re almost at your apartment”

You let him tug you along, because you were too lost taking everything in to navigate yourself. 

It was overwhelming, 

But you embraced it.

»»————-

“Are you sure this is the right building?”

“Mmh, I checked on the map. It’s definitely the red building”

“It…looks different than it did online” You said, staring at the apartment.

“I’m sure it’s nicer inside” He shot you a calm look. 

He grabbed the heavier suitcase, before attempting to push the door open. 

It didn’t budge, and he stopped, “Is the door locked or something?”

“Um, they told me it’d be open till six” You mumbled, glancing at your phone to check the time.

“Well, it’s certainly not open” Yeonjun muttered, trying to push it open with his shoulder. 

His efforts were met with no real results, and he released a frustrated sigh.

“Maybe I can try” You side-stepped him, lamely attempting to turn the knob.

“You know, it’s not that cold” Yeonjun rolled his eyes at the thick gloves you had on.

“It’s cold for me” You defended. 

Daejon almost had the same weather year-round. 

You weren’t used to the chill that came this up north.

“I pray for you when winter comes” He added.

You turned to him, arms crossed, “So…are we just going to stand here the rest of the night?”

“Why don’t you call the landlord?”

You bit your lip, “I wouldn’t wanna inconvenience him” 

Yeonjun sighed, dropping the duffel bag on the pavement, “You literally can’t get into your apartment. I think he’ll understand”

Your new life in the city was off to a great start.

“Maybe I can try again tomorrow” You spoke, “Could I stay at your place tonight?”

“Y/N” He stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, “You can, but you’re not going to be bothering him, I promise you. This is kind of his job”

You stared at him, and sighed, “You’re right. But, before I call him, do you think there’s another entrance to the place? Maybe we’re at the wrong one”

Yeonjun looked up at the facade of the building. All the blinds to the apartment windows were shut, and he kept his hands on his hips, “I’ll check around the back”

“Thank you” You nodded, “I’ll try the door here”

You peeled off your gloves, turning the knob again, hoping that it might work this time.

You pushed at it with your shoulder, and to your surprise, the door burst open, plunging you inside. 

Somebody else had opened the door from the inside.

“Fuck” You collided with them, flushing with embarrassment.

“Whoa” He exclaimed, hands coming up to your shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry” You stepped back, looking up at him.

Was everyone in Seoul a fucking model or something?

His hair fell into his eyes, sharp features and a jawline that immediately stood out to you. 

He seemed to be younger than you.

He observed your form, eyes flickering over your figure before he stepped back, to let you breathe, “Were you…breaking in to my apartment or something?”

“No!” You immediately responded in horror, eyes wide, “I…I’m Y/N”

His eyebrows shot up, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“I’m the new resident on the sixth floor” You explained, voice unsure by the second, “Mr. Kwon didn’t mention me?”

“Oh” His eyes widened in recognition, “Right. He did. I didn’t think you’d be coming in today. Bad weather to be moving in”

“You’re right” You laughed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “So, uh…I’m Y/N”

He smiled, eyes crinkling, “Hi, Y/N. I’m Jeongin”

“Sorry about the door. I couldn’t get in” 

“It tends to get stuck in the cold sometimes” He explained, then looked behind you, “Is that all the stuff you have?”

You turned back, “Yeah. My friend’s gone around the block…to look for another entrance”

Jeongin smiled brightly, like he had no troubles in the world, “Well, I can help you get your bags up, unless you wanna wait for your friend to come back?”

“I’ll just tell him I got the door open” You explained, reaching for your phone to text Yeonjun. 

Your new neighbour, Jeongin, watched as you typed out the text, and then reached forward, to pick up the duffel you’d abandoned on the street.

“You probably shouldn’t leave your stuff out like that” He laughed, grabbing the handle of your suitcase, “Some scumbags are just looking for an opportunity like that”

“Oh” You realised, feeling dumb for leaving your things unattended.

Jeongin pulled your suitcase and duffel bag up the porch stairs, before shooting you a glance, “I’m guessing you’re new to the city”

“It’s obvious?” You laughed, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it” He shook it off with a hand, as you followed him up the stairs, “I’m on the second floor, by the way”

You clutched the rusty bannister with one hand, craning your neck to observe the atrium. The centre of the staircase had a skylight, but it was pitch-black outside.

He glanced back at you, “If you ever find yourself stuck outside, you can shoot me a text. I’m almost always home”

You followed him up to the sixth floor, “Thank you, that’s really nice of you. Are you in university?”

He nodded, “I take my classes online though. You?”

“I’m here for an art internship”

“Where’d you move here from?” He asked, as you made your way to the door, and you handed him the keys. 

“Daejon. It’s a small town down south, near the beach and the mountains. You probably haven’t heard of it”

He turned to you, with a grin, “Sounds beautiful”

You unlocked the door to your unit, and thankfully this lock was easier than the one below. 

Flicking the switches on, you glanced around.

The apartment certainly was…something. 

It was a studio, unfurnished, one bedroom, one bath.

The walls and floor were bare, and there was hardly any lighting, but that could be fixed.

Everything could be fixed.

You had made it here, and that’s what mattered.

A little kitchen window looked out into a fire escape, glimpses of the city visible. 

It excited you already. You could set up an easel there and learn to paint this new landscape.

You’d brought no artwork with you…but the new paintings you made could decorate the walls, and soon the place would fill up with your new memories of the city.

There was so much potential.

“It’s not bad. Mr. Kwon gave you one of the better units” The boy commented, and you realised he was still here, as you’d been fantasising about your new place.

“Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” 

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, “Why would I want to make you feel better? We’ve only known each other like… thirty seconds”

Your eyes widened, and for a second you wondered if he actually meant it, before he burst into a laugh.

“Sorry” He giggled, “I was kidding. Did you think I was not?”

“And how would I know you were kidding? I just met you, like you said” You exhaled.

He laughed, walking back to you, “Why would I be so rude to you for no reason?”

You shrugged, hugging yourself, “I don’t know…maybe you’re an asshole”

“Ouch” He laughed.

“Who are you?” A familiar voice interrupted, and you turned to see Yeonjun stood at the doorway. His eyes were wide, and his hair was wet from the rain. You felt guilty for leaving him out in the cold, but he was more concerned about the stranger in your apartment.

“Who are you?” Jeongin asked him in return, “How’d you get in?”

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed, “The door was open downstairs”

“Shit” He mumbled, “Mr Kwon will kill me”

“Why are you in my friend’s living room?” Yeonjun asked.

“I was helping her in”

Yeonjun shot you a look, and you shrugged, “What?”

Jeongin looked between the two of you awkwardly, “I gotta go close up downstairs”

“Sure. Thank you for letting me in by the way”

“Course. No problem” He smiled, pushing his hands in his denim jacket pockets as he left. 

Once he was out of earshot, Yeonjun shut the apartment door, and raised an eyebrow at you, “Who was he?”

“Yang Jeongin” You leaned against the kitchen counter, letting out a breath, “He opened the door for me”

“And you let him into your apartment. What if he’s a creep?”

“Relax, Jun. At least I’m inside now”

He looked around, observing the place, “Well, at least there’s no mold here or anything”

You stare at him, “Are you kidding me? The place is… perfect”

He laughs, “What?”

You run up to him, pulling him into a hug, “Thank you, thank you, thank you”

He wrapped his arms around you, “Someone’s happy”

You looked up at him, “Of course I am. This is what I’ve wanted my entire life”

“You didn’t seem this excited downstairs” He pointed out.

“I was worried for a second there” You say, “But now I’m so happy”

He laughed, “Fuck. I’m happy for you”

You let go of him, to sit on your new couch, in your new home.

“If I get some cute stuff and more lights, it’ll be nice, right?”

He walked over to the kitchen window, peering out at the view, “Just be careful to keep the blinds closed at night”

“Why?” You frowned.

“There’s a lot of creepy people in the city”

You smiled, dropping your head back on the couch, “I don’t care”

He laughed again, stepping over to you, “When do you want to unpack?”

“Is it crazy if I say right now? I kind of want to put all my stuff in place”

“No, it’s not crazy. You’re not tired?”

“I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, so no”

He chuckled, “I’m guessing you’re going to be saying that a lot”

He walked over to the bedroom, “It’s smaller than on the website. You’ll have to buy a bed”

“I know” You hummed, closing your eyes, to take everything in. If you sat here quietly, you’d be able to hear the sirens, the pedestrians, the noise from all the shops.

“Do you wanna order some pizza?” He asked.

“That’s perfect”

As the hours pass, you put away all your clothes in the wardrobe. Yeonjun helped you arrange the paintbrushes and canisters in a corner. You’ve only had enough space to bring two canvases and you balanced them against your bedroom wall. 

Yeonjun played an English rock band he’s lately been obsessed with as you emptied the last of your suitcase.

The pizza arrived in no time, and Yeonjun brought it upstairs.

You’ve opened the kitchen window to let the city sounds in, and he smiles at your amused expression. Your apartment faces a busy street, but you love it. There’s absolutely no silence, and you think it’ll help you fall asleep at night.

Sitting on the floor, the pizza box lay between you as Yeonjun told you about his favourite spots in the city. He was a little overprotective, telling you to avoid certain neighbourhoods, but you appreciate him.

“Are you excited to join the internship?” He asked, biting down into the pepperoni.

“Apprenticeship” You corrected him.

“What’s the difference?” He laughed.

“Look it up” You rolled your eyes, tossing a pepperoni at him.

He nodded, “So you’re sticking in Seoul forever then?”

You laughed, “We’ll see”

“You didn’t answer my question” He repeated, popping open a coke can, a hissing sound accompanying it.

“I am excited. Obviously” You smiled, “Nervous to meet Kim Jieong though. He’s like my favourite artist, ever, in the entire observable universe”

Yeonjun laughed, passing you the coke can, “I better be the first to hear all about your first day”

“Who else will I even tell?” You laughed.

He nodded, swallowing the crusts, and choosing to stay quiet.

It’s awkward. Hyunjin’s thought hangs in the air.

He doesn’t know you’re here.

He doesn’t even know you got accepted.

“We could do something crazy. If you want”

“What?” You asked, curious.

“You’re probably gonna hate the idea” He laughed.

You scoot closer to him, “Tell me”

He bites into another piece, “You know where he works. The Pegasus headquarters. It’s not too far from your classes”

You stare at him as he talks. The idea makes you feel like a stalker.

“I can’t just show up at his workplace”

“Isn’t that how you two met in the first place? He showed up to your workplace?”

You grabbed the coke can from him, “You’re clever. But no…that’d be weird”

“How else are you going to get in touch with him?”

“I don’t know, but it is so weird to think that we’re under the same sky now”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, “You’re way too romantic. You know that you’re always under the same sky, right? No matter where you are on Earth”

“Shut up” You tossed a piece of pepperoni at him, “Don’t kill the mood”

“Fine. You’re breathing the same air as Hyunjin. I mean, if you really want to be romantic, you’ll probably bump into him sometime soon”

“There’s like ten million people in the city, Jun”

“Oh, now you’re logical?” He laughed. Yeonjun’s face suddenly lit up, and you know he’s had a terrible idea.

“What? Don’t tell me…” 

“I’m going to help you find him. That’s kind of my job”

“Finding people?” You laughed.

“No, tracking their digital footprints, and shit”

“How is that going to help us find Hyunjin again?”

“I don’t know. I’m still figuring that part out”

You rolled your eyes, and you lie down.

Your stomach is full, you’re tired, and the floor of your new place is cold, and you love it. You’re so happy. 

You’re right where you belong, and right where you were always supposed to be.

It feels right, and you smile to yourself.

“Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe we can explore your neighbourhood. You can get familiar with it” Yeonjun suggested.

You sat up so quickly, “That’s the greatest idea I’ve ever heard” 

So, he took you around the alleys, and you tried to memorise the names of the streets, and he showed you a coffee shop, and a Paris fucking Baguette. 

Your street is busy and full of life, even this late at night. Even from here, you could see the high-rise buildings surrounding you, glass houses, and everything is glamorous. 

“I literally feel like I’m inside a drama” You told Yeonjun, watching all of the little shops and snack stands. The mannequins in the window display wore clothes you could never get away with wearing back home.

But, you’ll wear them now.

It’s so much all at once.

He held your hand, introducing you to everything he knew of. 

You feel like a stranger in your own country. Everything is different here.

But you’re right where you belong, and as Yeonjun led you back home, you looked up at the sky.

It’s different too.

You realise Hyunjin was right all along.

There are no stars here. 

»»————-

It’s been less than a week, and you’re lost.

You’re not proud to admit it.

But the city is big, and you were only trying to find your way to The Atelier.

Cabs were expensive as hell, so you’d decided to walk, and take the trains but clearly you’d ended up in the wrong neighbourhood.

You called Yeonjun. Obviously.

“Look, Y/N. I still don’t understand what possessed you go visit your art building this late”

“I was impatient!” You admitted. Your classes don’t start for another week, but you wanted to check the place out. You couldn’t hold your excitement.

“You could’ve just waited for the weekend. I would have gone with you”

You snorted, “Right. What would you do in a place like that?”

“Hey, I can be artsy too” He retorted, “Now tell me what you see”

You stared ahead of you.

It’s busy, and there’s so many people. You turn a corner, and then another, and another. It’s already dark out, and the streetlights have twinkled on. You wish you could appreciate the beauty, but you’re so lost. 

Somehow, you’re not scared. You know you’ll figure it out. 

You’ve made it this far after all.

“I’m at a street with a thousand shops”

“So…every single street of this city? You’re so helpful”

“You’re not being very helpful either” You crossed your arms.

“Just go into any shop, and ask them where the art building is”

“What if they don’t know?”

“Then ask somebody else” Yeonjun suggested.

You survey the plethora of shops. Half of them have already shuttered down, and some are in the process of closing. 

There’s only one store that’s open. It looks like it sells snacks and drinks, but maybe they can tell you where you are. The fluorescent lights of it cast a harsh aura upon the streets, unmatched to the traditional aesthetic of everything else. 

“Okay. That’ll give me an excuse to get that expensive candy I saw at the station”

Yeonjun laughed, “I am appalled at how positive you’re being right now despite being in the middle of nowhere”

You walked up the little stairs, a chime sounding as you enter. 

It’s bigger than you expected inside. 

There’s rows and rows of snacks, shelves stocked to the brim. It’s local, different from a 7/11 franchise, but it’s just as organised. There’s a few people already in the store, and you walked past them, until you find an employee who can help you.

“Yeah, once I decided to stop being affected by every little thing, life became much easier” You joked.

You can almost imagine Yeonjun rolling his eyes as he said, “If only everything was that easy”

“I’m gonna ask someone who works here. I’ll call you after, okay?” You spoke into the phone, before hanging up.

There’s a girl, she looked friendly enough.

“Excuse me?” 

She turned, and she was chewing gum, “Yeah? How can I help you?”

“Yeah, could you tell me how I can get to the Atelier from here?”

You feel a little stupid. She’s probably wondering why you can’t just use your phone, but the streets here are so narrow, there’s no way it’ll be accurate.

Her eyebrow furrowed, “That fancy glass building?” 

You lit up in recognition, “Yes! Exactly that!”

“Um. I’m sorry, I don’t know. But Jae will know. His girlfriend goes there. I can call him if you want, he’s the back”

“Oh” You nodded, “That’ll be really helpful, thank you so much”

She looked around, “Are you gonna buy anything?”

You nodded, smiling at her, before she walked into the back.

Well, she was nice.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets, and looked around. 

You haven’t been to this part of town before. Well, you’ve only been here a few days but you must have got yourself really, really lost to end up in such a random place.

You waited for the girl to come back, and you watched the people around you.

You envy their sense of comfort, and familiarity.

There’s a couple, still in school uniforms, and they’re picking out candy.

There’s quite a few people in the store, baskets full of snacks, and iced coffee, and maybe you can grab one too, after you reorient yourself.

The shelf is front of you is so overstimulating, and there’s so many different types of candy. 

That’s another one of your favourite things here.

Brands you’ve never heard of or seen before. Imported sweets, from all across the world, and everything is expensive, but you don’t care right now.

There’s a huge box of purple candies.

It’s too much, even for you.

But you feel the need to treat yourself.

You reached for it, picking it off the shelf. Your eyes wander up.

There’s a boy.

Your heart skips a beat, and you think it almost stopped.

You’re dizzy.

The most beautiful boy in the world… stands on the other side of the shelf.

You’d recognise that stance anywhere. 

He’s in a dark trench coat and a cap is pulled over his head, and getting lost has easily been the absolute best mistake of your life. It’s the craziest coincidence in the world, and maybe now you really don’t believe in coincidences anymore.

You believe in destiny, and he has to be yours.

There’s no other explanation, no rhyme or reason for why else he would be here, right now, right here, at the same time as you.

He hasn’t seen you yet, and you relish in those few seconds of pure observation.

He looks exactly the same, as he browses through the aisle of cereals.

Your heart burned, and it yearned, and you couldn’t wait anymore.

You couldn’t stop yourself, even if you wanted to.

“Hyunjin?” You blurted, the excitement unable to be held back.

His head shot up to yours.

The blue box of cereal in his hand dropped to the floor.

And it really was him.

It actually was him.

There were no coincidences. 

He looked so gorgeous, and you can already feel his distinct scent. Your lips curved up into a smile, and your heart was beating out of its chest.

He was staring at you, eyes wide, lips parted.

His hair had gotten even longer, and it peeked out from under his cap.

“Hyunjin I—”

A woman stepped between you, picking up what he’d just dropped.

“Is this the one you were looking for?” She handed it to him.

Hyunjin tore his gaze away from you and nodded at her.

She looked at you, wondering what had his attention.

Your words were stuck in your throat, and your heart was squeezing in your chest, you thought you might collapse.

Who was that?

“Is there anything else you need?” She asked him.

He shook his head, gaze to the floor, “No. I’m good”

His voice. You’d missed it insanely.

“Perfect. The cash counter’s in the back though” She walked past you, and she’s not your problem anymore because he’s here. He’s actually here, in front of you, in the most random shop in all of Seoul. 

Hyunjin stepped out from the aisle. 

You’re standing in his way, “Hey—”

“Excuse me” He mumbled, his shoulder bumped against yours and he walked right past you.

What the fuck?

He didn’t even look at you.

Someone tapped on your shoulder, and it was the girl with the chewing gum.

Your eyes were still on him though, confused, and a fear began to settle in your stomach. He was standing at the cash counter, and his was head was ducked low, as the woman placed all of their shopping out of the cart. 

For a second, you wonder if you’re mistaken and if that’s someone else, but you know it’s him, but that doesn’t make any sense.

The girl employee spoke cheerfully, introducing a boy at her side, “This is Jae! He can tell you the way to the Art Atelier”

At those words, Hyunjin finally looked back, over his shoulder, at you.

His gaze met yours.

It definitely was him.

You were about to say something, but the words never made it past your lips, because he immediately looked away from you.

It was as if he had never known you.

Like you were a stranger.

The city of Seoul had never felt so quiet, as right now.

»»————-

⇐ masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you <3

if you’d like to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here! thank you so much.

[rwrbficrecs]

First monthly faves for 2024 !! ❤️

Leave a message by @sherryvalli (book-verse)

@dot524: In the mood for some cute, heart-melting fluff? This is a one-shot that recounts Alex’s voicemail messages over the years from those who care about him - including Henry.

would you be my love, my love? (would you be mine) by ohprongs (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a strictly come dancing AU with a lot of feelings that I've been thinking about ever since i read it!!!

even though we know it isn't true by @matherines (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: for everyone struggling with academic pressure, or anyone, really. it's pretty sad but of course there's comfort personified in Henry!!

beyond infatuation, how obsessively i adore you by @waterloolovers (book-verse)

@wilmonsfolklore: a new fandom classic if you ask me. Henry works at the daycare Alex's daughter goes to and their relationship progresses really naturally. the kid content in this fic is some of the cutest i have ever read and this is the perfect fic to go on your reread list for comfort.

And They Were Roommates by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Alex and Henry get to know themselves and each other after they move in together. This story is not sugarcoated at all, very realistic - just how life is, and so so sweet. Also, unfortunately, rather short, but still worth the read - as are many other stories by this author, such as the 'Las flores' series.

Spirit of the Season by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: A little late to the game but I finally read E.J's Christmas story. Her way of story telling doesn't disappoint in this shorter tale (by her standards). It's not lighthearted and it touches some difficult topics (mostly canon) but it's all worth it because of the way they fall in love through Christmas Eve/night. Can't recommend it enough!

Where There Are Octobers by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: 31 short chapters that are just really fun to read! Some are post-canon or canon-compliant, others are AUs - but in all of them the characters are so beautifully drawn, true to how we know and love them! A vet AU, a hospital AU, major fluff, even an X-Files AU - and who knows, maybe one or two dribbles will turn into more?! Fingers crossed!

The Art of Losing by bigfishbigpond (book-verse)

@dot524: If you think the mid-story breakup should have been longer and more angsty, here’s the story for you. An interesting and heartfelt story of what Henry and Alex are like apart, and what pulls them back together.

I know that you hate me (Do you though?) by @arand0mdutchgirl (book-verse)

@magnificentandcoolfez: A bit of good ADHD angst (with some comfort ofc). I like the focus on how hard adhd can be and it's a short and good read for those who like comfort that comes in the shape of your crush holding you until you feel grounded again.

blushing ears and beating hearts by @kill8a (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This story is not just slow burn, it is glacial burn. It's an college AU, set in New York, and so slow, so tender, so fluffy - after reading it I was floating on cloud 9 for quite a while. I don't know if you feel the same way, but it's funny how changing one given variable somehow changes the whole dynamic between the two of them. Or is it just me?! Either way, it's so wholesome to tag along as their love blossoms, I still feel so hugged and cared for.

all so human with our guards down by @maxbegone (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a post-apocalyptic story that is unlike any other. There are no zombies or gore, but instead it focuses on rebuilding and the softest love growing between Alex and Henry, surrounded by family and friends. I kinda wanted to live there by the end of it.

The Snow Prince by @orchidscript (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: several fairy tale tropes meet to create this absolutely amazing story. It has dreaminess of a fable, best kind of yearning of your favourite slow burn fics and a little bit of adventure of a fantasy novel.

but to say that I'm a rainbow, to tell me that I'm bright (when I'm so used to feeling wrong, well, it helps me feel alright.) by What_Is_A_Mild_Opinion (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Fandom is really sleeping on this one! This story is a canon rewrite with characters reimagined as creatures with animal characteristics. The wordbuilding is so fantastic that even if you are not a fan of long fics following canon step by step, it's absolutely worth to check this even for a chapter or two and get to know these wonderful versions of Alex and Henry. (Alex is literally rainbow.)

safe with me / more than I ever (in a thousand years)by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I think the author is very well known among all rwrb fanfic readers. I really, really liked these two stories, like a lot: Two 5+1 fics, one from Pez's point of view, the other from Bea's - unfortunately both characters are given too little attention in the book imho. As expected, both narrators are sharply observing, protective of Henry, loving, honest, tender - and you end up loving Henry (and Alex) even more.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️