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swarvey · 7 months ago

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how they would propose | sdv bachelors x g/n!reader | part one

-> summary: in game, the farmer is always the one to present the mermaid's pendant to their lover — what if it was the other way around?

pt. 2

a/n: starting with half the boys, i'll be working on the rest of them + bachelorettes after ! i got a bit carried away with elliott's ... but can you blame me?

alex

carries the pendant around in his pocket for a week, hoping the right words will magically find him if he does

(they don't)

definitely the type to lock himself in the bathroom and stare at himself through the mirror while practicing what to say to you

decides to propose during a quiet walk in the evening so he has your full attention and all the time in the world to profess his love to you

alex swears his heart is about to fly out of his chest as the two of you walk hand in hand around pelican town, the sun long gone below the horizon. the street lamps guide the two of you, fireflies intermittently emitting gentle flashes of light.

he doesn't even realize you're expecting a response from him until you wave a hand in front of his face, moving in front of him so he's forced to look into your amused gaze.

"alex," you laugh, and his breath hitches, "are you listening? you look like you've been zoning out."

he musters an empty laugh back at you, internally panicking as he desperately tries to recall what you said. "what? me? no, i was just, uh . . ." think, alex, think! you can't mess up now! "i was thinking about gridball." he wants to smack himself.

"really?" you reply, raising your brows. "you're thinking about gridball, now? while i was talking to you about our anniversary coming up?"

shit.

his face pales, stopping in his tracks in the middle of the bridge near the museum. he groans, dropping your hand to run it through his hair — surely he can fix this, right?

"okay, cut the act," you say, worry beginning to show in your features. "is everything alright? what's bugging you?"

"nothing, really! it's just that, uh . . ." alex inhales a quick breath to prepare himself before grabbing both your hands in his. "you know i love you, right?"

"yes . . .," you trail off. you look at him with concerned eyes, beginning to look uneasy. "now i'm really worried—"

"no, no! just hear me out, alright?" you nod. "you know, before you moved here, my view on life was pretty boring," he admits. "all i really cared about was gridball and my grandparents. and dusty, of course, and i guess sam and haley, too—" he shakes his head, blush beginning to cover his cheeks. "whatever, you get what i'm trying to say, right?"

"i'm not entirely sure if i follow," you reply, smiling at how flustered he's gotten. "what are you getting at, alex?"

he sighs. "listen, you moving here was the best thing that ever happened to me. you've shown me there's tons more to life than whatever i was doing before, like giving random gifts to everyone in town just to make them happy, or being a badass and fighting off monsters!" you laugh, and he grins. "anyways, now that i've had a taste of what being with you is like, i don't think i'm willing to share."

your jaw drops as he reaches into his pocket and gets on one knee, opening his palm to reveal a mermaid's pendant.

"will you marry me, y/n? so i can spend the rest of my life learning more awesome stuff from you?"

he nearly collapses in relief when you nod, whooping in joy before engulfing you in a tight hug. after a few moments, he can't help but kiss you strongly, a hand cradling the back of your head with the other on the small of your back. you smile into the kiss, pulling away only to look into his teary, overjoyed eyes.

"aren't you forgetting something?" you tease, glancing down at the pendant that's still clutched in his hand.

"oh, right!" you bend your head forward as he places it around your neck, beaming at the sight.

you hold the jewel in your hand, adrenaline pumping through your blood. "looks like we'll have to plan a wedding," you say, happily pecking alex's cheek.

"yes, this is so great!" he exclaims as he jumps in excitement, unable to control himself. "alright, first, we gotta figure out where we're going to cater food from, but i know grams will want to bake our cake," he rambles, grabbing your hand as he practically starts to drag you home. "oooh, and we should totally ask sam and his band to play something for us! he knows all the songs we like, anyway. i think all the guys will help me get all dressed up, but i bet haley and the rest of the girls would go crazy over helping you pick out what to wear, they probably know better anyway—"

"alex," you interrupt, laughing at his antics, "relax. we'll figure all this out tomorrow. let's just go home." he nods.

"you're right, honey," he agrees, swinging your intertwined hands playfully. "i'm going to need all the rest i can get if i'm gonna spend all of tomorrow bragging about my engagement."

shane

leaves the pendant in his nightstand drawer and looks at it every night before he goes to sleep for nearly a month

he truly never thought he would get married — who would want to marry him, the town drunk?

regardless, the past year with you has proven otherwise, and he knows now there's no one else he wants by his side

he decides to do it quite impulsively one day, literally grabbing it from his drawer and walking to your farm

(marnie nearly faints in excitement when she sees him walk out with the mermaid's pendant in hand, while jas cheers him on)

shane starts to get nervous when he doesn't see you anywhere on the farm, making sure to double-check all the chicken coops and barns before heading toward your house. your pet runs up to him, sniffing the hand wrapped around the pendant curiously.

"got any advice?" he asks jokingly, though he doesn't receive an answer — just a tilted head and wide eyes. "guess this one's on me," he sighs, looking at the jewelry nervously.

"shane? is that you?"

shane nearly drops it as he quickly shoves his hands into his pockets, watching as you step out from your greenhouse. of course, he thinks, the one place i didn't check.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, smiling at his sudden appearance. you're wearing dirt-covered gloves and your hair is touseled and frizzy; shane thinks you're glowing. "dinner's not til later, isn't it? or else i'll need a little time to get ready."

"no, i thought i would stop by a little early," he says. "i had something i wanted to talk to you about, actually." you nod, taking off your gloves and putting them in your bag.

"of course, what's up?" you ask, looking at him with those damn eyes that he could never resist.

"we should get married," he states bluntly, excitement sending chills down his body.

he wants to kick himself as you stare at him, blinking twice before saying, "y-yeah, i guess we should."

he nods, swallowing. "it makes sense, y'know?" he reasons, suddenly avoiding your eyes. "we've been with each other for a while now, and things have been going pretty good." he pauses. "you've gotten me through a lot, you know that? i mean, before you got here, i didn't think anyone in this town gave a damn about me — but you obviously do, for whatever reason, so i'll spend the rest of my life trying my best to be the guy you see me as."

he takes the mermaid's pendant out from his pocket, sheepishly looking at you as he holds it. his eyes are watering with emotion, and by the looks of it, so are yours.

"so, what do you say, honey?" he asks softly. "will you marry me?"

"yes," you reply, smiling as he puts the necklace on you. he laughs in disbelief when he sees you wearing it, still in shock that this is his reality. you roll your eyes, pulling him in for a deep kiss. you cry out in surprise as he hugs you strongly and even lifts you off the ground slightly, his eyes brighter than you've ever seen them.

"i can hardly believe this is real," he sighs, pulling you into his side. "guess i did one thing right in my lifetime."

you slap his arm, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. "you definitely didn't plan this out, did you?"

"huh? what makes you think that?"

"you couldn't even wait until dinner to ask?" you joke. "i guess it wasn't really a question, either—" you laugh as he pokes your side to cut you off.

"don't forget, you're the one who said yes," he retorts, smiling nonetheless. "you're officially stuck with me."

elliott

oh, he's had the mermaid's pendant for months. pretty much since you two got together

he tried to keep it a secret, he really did, but by the time he actually decides to propose, the rest of the bachelors and bachelorettes know

still, he wants the proposal to be for you and you only, so he plans on asking you during an evening picnic dinner on the beach

that doesn't stop him from asking his friends for some help, though

"is this really necessary?" sebastian questions, placing a candle into the sand and creating a pathway to the picnic blanket near the water.

"i think it's romantic," leah sighs, handing him another candle from the box in her arms. "he's been planning and buying all this stuff for weeks now. plus, candlelight always makes things more magical."

"i'm sure the moon will be bright enough tonight to add some 'magic.'"

"the light itself is not our concern, my friend," elliott says, wrapping an arm around seb — who scowls at the contact, but decides to let him get away with it just this once — and waving his arm to show off their setup. "i need this beach to represent a scene of pure love and endearment tonight, for my beloved deserves no less than a proposal for the century!"

"right," seb monotones. "well, the candles are all set up, so i'm heading to the shade."

"you want the speakers over here, el?" sam calls out, holding up one of his wireless speakers at the entrance of the beach.

"i've got one over here, too!" abigail yells from behind the cabin.

"perfect!" elliott replies, grinning as the setting he's been picturing finally comes together. he waves goodbye as everyone begins to head home, turning to the only part of his plan left untouched — the picnic blanket. i suppose the rest is up to me.

"are you ready, my dear?"

"elliott, i've been ready for the past twenty minutes," you say, playfully smacking the hands covering your eyes. "can i look now?" he laughs before finally lowering his arms, watching lovingly as your eyes widen at the setting in front of you.

"shall we?" he asks, holding his arm out. you gladly hold on to him as the two of you make your way down the beach, in awe at the candles lighting your way.

"i must be dreaming," you say, shaking your head. "how did you—? wait, where's the music coming from?" you realize soft acoustic music is playing throughout the beach, feeling as if you're in a movie scene.

"ah, that? i asked sam and abigail if i could borrow their speakers," elliott explains proudly. "i also recruited leah and sebastian to help me create this enchanting path."

you laugh. "let me guess, you asked alex and haley to distract me and bring me to the library?" your jaw dropped. "no, and you asked maru and penny to get lunch with me? all so i wouldn't come to find you?"

"i had a feeling my darling would venture to my whereabouts, so i requested the help of our colleagues to keep you away. though i'm sure it was difficult for you, i wanted this to be a surprise," he admits, smiling at you. "do you . . . like it?" he asks quietly, a bit scared he had done too much.

"elliott, this is more than anything i could have asked for," you say, warmth coating your words. "what's the occasion?"

he sighs in relief before replying, "have i ever needed a measly excuse to spoil you, dear?"

"i suppose not," you agree amusedly, recalling all the times you've returned home to a bouquet sitting on your porch.

finally, the two of you reach the end of the path, sitting together on the blanket. a big basket covered with a cloth sits at the center of it, as well as two plates, utensils, and your favorite food.

you shake your head. "this is ridiculous," you state, looking at elliott with big eyes. "how long have you been planning this?"

he hums in thought as he plates your food, pushing it towards you. "that, my dear, is none of your concern," he says, "though, i will say it took quite a bit of strategy. and money," he jokingly adds.

after the two of you eat, elliott hands the basket over to you, trying his very best to contain himself.

"i thought it'd be fitting to get you some gifts," he states, as you begin to uncover its contents one by one.

inside, you find a framed version of your favorite photo with him, a hand-painted mug, a poem, and—

you gasp. "are those rubies?" you ask, a couple red stones glittering at the top of the basket. you pick them up, realizing they're matching keychains.

"courtesy of emily," elliott explains. he hesitates, breathing out lightly before continuing. "rubies signify love and passion, you know, as well as good luck and prosperity."

you laugh lightly, holding up the keychains to the moonlight to see them shine. "perfect, should work wonders for us and the farm—"

"they also symbolize weddings."

you blink, gently setting down the gems as you look at him. he holds out the mermaid's pendant he has been patiently keeping for you, eyes already shining with tears as you gasp.

"y/n, the time we have spent together has been by far the best of my entire life," he starts, "and when i look to the future, i'm afraid i cannot picture one without you walking by my side. you are, and always will be, the love of my life, my shining light, my fairy book tale. you, my love, are my happy ending.

"so, will you do me the honors and marry me?"

you jump into his arms as soon as he finishes speaking, both of you laughing as he happily holds you.

"yes, elliott, of course!" you exclaim. he grins as he holds your face in his hands, covering your face in kisses before finally landing on your lips. your hands run through his hair before you fall backward, elliott landing on top of you with his hand cradling your head. you peck his nose, and he laughs once more before helping you sit up.

"here, let us celebrate with some wine!" he decides, grabbing two bottles he had left in the corner. "shane and harvey said these were the best the winery had to offer."

"you really got the whole town in on this, huh?" you tease, barely containing yourself as he helps you put on the jewelry.

he rubs the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "well, it began with leah, and i thought it wouldn't hurt to tell harvey, but then of course i had to tell—" he stops himself. "secrecy has never been one of my strong suits, has it, love?"

you shake your head, leaning into his arm as you listen to the sound of the music mixing with the crashing of the waves.

"don't worry," you reassure, and he looks down at you with nothing but love in his gaze. "you have plenty of other traits to make up for it."

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sillygoosealert · 5 months ago

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CAN YOU DO A REVENGE VERSION OF SUKUNA BETRAYING READER??!! LIKE WHAT IF READER RUNS AWAY BC THEY ACCIDENTALLY WITNESS HIM BEDDING ANOTHER CONCUBINE WHAT WOULD SUKUNA DO? SEND AN ARMY, BURN THE WORLD DOWN?!! 😭😭😭 AND CAN U TRY TO WEITE SOME COMFORT OR FLUFF AT THE END TYSMN

The Morning After (Before)

Days After Initiating Sexual-intercourse (whY)

angst, comfort in being alone, upset (angry) Sukuna, you leave, BEFORE you leave it's a toxic relationship, AFAB reader, woopsie Daisy- i killed off the reader (i got carried away ::( )

To explain your feelings to anyone but yourself brings tears to your already puffy eyes. Since that night, there are so many things you've noticed that you could talk about endlessly.

For starters, his boldness has increased plenty- as he is now more than comfortable with having multiple concubines clinging onto him while he slouches in his throne. When asked to describe him just a month or two ago, you would've gone on and on about how he was a gentle giant with you- a lie, but you would've sugar-coated anything when it came to him.

Right now, all you could even think about when it came to him was how good it would feel for all those women to look at him with disgust at his actions instead of devotion and whatever made-up fantasy they had made up in their heads. That's how you look at him anyway.

You despise keeping up with your cleaning and even dread entering his chamber with him. Furthermore, you do not act like you are interested in him. Eyes once filled with adornment and even some curiosity are now loaded with resentment and a trace of disinterest. He sees it, everyone else sees it, and you feel it. But it doesn't make you feel better knowing he knows- it just makes the pit of dread in your stomach grow.

You know you want him to care, but you can't help but feel he puts up a show of all the women at his disposal when you're in the vicinity- stretching his upper arms out and putting each one around a mistress while one or two sit on his spread-out lap. All you can think when you look at him is how much of an arrogant whore he truly is.

When he calls someone to bring you to his chambers, he always makes sure to feel up whoever is bringing you before shooing them out. His shoulders broaden as he motions you to come up on the bed. He looks bigger than he did a moment ago, and you can't help but feel he's doing it on purpose.

It's been weeks since you watched him choose 5 minutes of feeling good over you sleeping well at night. Was it worth it? You don't know. But the way he tries to passionately kiss you while his lower half eats you out makes you think he's trying to act like it didn't mean anything.

Regardless, you can't help but notice that the same woman is always seated on his lap whenever you catch a glance of him basking in all the attention he can.

The light slap to your thigh makes you look at him directly in the eyes for a second, before looking off to the side. That makes him huff, sitting upwards. Silence speaks volumes for both of you, as you are refusing to talk about your feelings because you think you know how it'll go; and he doesn't want to admit he's hurt by your rejection. So you both don't say anything.

This happens whenever he tries to initiate something intimate. You shut down. It often ends with stillness enfolding the room and an awkwardness surrounding you.

After a few minutes of waiting you leave without a word, and he lets you. While you go on to cry into your pillow and go on another night without comfort, while he gets a few concubines to praise him and fill the growing void with arrogance.

The more you clean and the less you eat and sleep, the feeling of wanting to die increases. Passing out when you get just a chance to lie down is now a common occurrence for you, as well as taking your time standing up.

Maybe you're depressed because you thought he would indulge in your selfishness and let you be the only woman to touch him so intimately. It's also possible that all the chemicals and labor are finally taking their toll on you and your body, meaning your time is shortening just as much as the other maids.

But the day doesn't start with you preparing to dust and sweep; it starts in Ryomen's Room.

You aren't upset anymore. You know that it contributes nothing and won't change anything. Instead of crying into your pillow or blaming yourself for his actions, you just go on. The world kept spinning after that night. Your heart kept beating- for now. The thought of him having sex like it wasn't once you under him isn't frustrating anymore. Not knowing what you want is, but you can handle that. You won't be his woman- you won't even be his man; you won't be anything to him if you can have a say in it.

He sits you in a chair facing his bed, clearing his throat as if he's going to speak- but he doesn't. Raising your eyebrow, you once again are met with speechlessness.

"What?" On cue, he acts offended, as if he isn't relieved you chose to speak up.

"Don't speak to me like that, Concubine."

"I'm more of a maid now than anything, my lord." He hums when you say that.

"You could be more than that- you could be much more. If you weren't so thoughtless." Thoughtless isn't a word you would use. Maybe more impassive- or a less self-absorbed characterization.

"What makes you say that?" An obnoxious sigh comes out of him.

"Jealousy fills you to the point you can't enjoy being one of my favorite concubines," He pauses

"It must be…oppugning to see me with so many women who aren't you," His posture straightens.

"But understand, the only difference between you and them is how you act."

"What's wrong with you? You don't understand why I feel this way at all, do you?" A sneer is plastered across his face now.

"Redirect your hostility towards yourself. Your jealousy is your concern, Not mine."

"I'm not talking to you. Lecture your other mistresses-" A hand pivots your head to face him.

"Keep speaking to me like you are not leagues below me. I won't hesitate to discard you."

"I'm sure you won't." He motions for you to go away as another concubine waits at the door. They give you a curious look before heading in. It's just her, no one else. That used to be you.

Later that night, after the last meal of the day, you're mopping the dining hall floors. You're pouring more cleaner into the water. You are alone.

That realization floods awful thoughts into your mind as the morning replays in your mind. And without thinking, you unscrew the cap again and bring it to your lips.

While taking a large sip from it, liquid spilling from your mouth and onto the floor, the taste of soap and something else fills your senses.

You start to gag and dry heave as it goes down your throat. Swallowing your vomit, you run off to your room after putting your things away.

There isn't anything after you close your eyes, not anymore for you, at least.

You fall asleep thinking about the night in question. It loads you with a peaceful feeling.

There's nothing you can do now. No more choosing to stay silent when all you want to do is crawl into your side of his bed and cry. You don't even have to choose to let go of your feelings of envy and insecurity.

You wonder what he'll do with your body the morning after somebody finds your decomposing body.

Tag list: @kbirdieee2540 @apollogeticx @night-brain

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kelpification · 2 years ago

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new song to be unhinged about

#over the past year i have had mental health issues because of:#advice by alex g #canibal by arawato #and now #run it back by dino gala #kelpie tag

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em0puppy · 7 months ago

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OMGKOGMGKOMGOKGMGOOFMGKOGMKGOMGOKGMGOMGMGOGMGKGOMGOGMGMOGMGMGMJSJSJDKSKDNDNJSKWKWKWKJDJFIKWMXJCJFJKWKSMJCJCJWKKSMD

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!..........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here’s that J doooddleee I’m never drawing her again

#mommy #i mean what #who said that not me you said that #THE LOVELY !!!!!! MY LOVELY WIFE !!!!!!!#can she.....t...t.to.top m.m.m...m..-*gets shot*#her hips........ Mary by alex g starts playing #i want to marry her wait no #IDEA.#RUNS TO DISCORD TEE HEE !!!!!#crow's reblogs #crow's death sentences #crow makes out with j in the parking lot #uzi's lovely wives #< wife tag hehehehehe >:3 #mackenzie u make me sick /vpos #i am not deserving of this

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doomedmoth · 20 days ago

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Better kind of best friend (part 3)

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...

Moth's prophecy 💡 : Your favorite omen of doom & cringe is baaaack ! I wanted to give a special thanks to all the precious cryptids who have asked for the part three for literal weeks, always staying patient, nice, and sending messages so sweet I rot my teeth on them and made a collection of screenshots in my notes to motivate me. I never thought anyone would like my writing, let alone wait for it, so thank you. Y’all are my lights. On the subject of Better kind of best friend, a fourth part was not planned at first, but will make the ending smoother, so I’m sorry, this is not the end yet ! For those just discovering the series, you can find part one here and part two here, or in in the masterlist ! Enjoy !

“Ah per favore… Tell me you’re not dressing up like that for her.”

“Ah please, tell me you’re not giving your opinion when no one asked for it.” Chiara popped her tongue at your cold answer, and stayed in the opening of your door, clearly judging you.

You had been going through your closet for about an hour now, and the floor seemed to only disappear more and more under the layers of clothes thrown onto it carelessly. Nothing seemed good enough, partly because you had no idea what to expect for the evening, and mostly because no matter how much you refused to admit it, Chiara was right. You wanted to look pretty for someone else than yourself. For two people exactly. The thought of how quick you had thrown away all of your big principles when faced with fluttering eyelashes and pink cheeks almost made you sick.

Yet when they both got up from the table, Alex running to your arms with a smile and Charles blushing, eyeing you up and down, you thought that Chiara should just shut up once in a while. This was too good to not enjoy.

And you had promised yourself this would not be the same this time. They were your friends, they were dating, and you would keep a healthy relationship with both of them. But then Alexandra softly kissed your cheeks, and took your hand in hers. You would limit any type of confusing physical touch, and make sure to not give in to sweet pet names. But then she led you to Charles, who put his hand, much bigger and more calloused than his girlfriend’s, on your waist, and brought you closer to greet you. You would not let your fantasies take over facts, and you would keep all communication clear and honest to ensure your best friend stayed exactly that. A best friend. But then he told you you were gorgeous, and she giggled while still holding your hand, and they had your favorite drink already on the table, and suddenly you forgot everything you had told yourself in the mirror while getting ready. Surely it would come back to you if it was that important. Right ?

Back to you it came, in the form of Alex’s gorgeous friend and one of your workshop colleague, Luca. Almost falling on you as you exited the bathroom, he seemed like he had had one too many drinks already, and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

“Oh mais regarde toi, quelle beauté !” He grabbed at your waist and kissed your cheeks, blabbering on and on in French about your makeup and outfit. “Who are you trying to impress by looking so gorgeous, babe ?”

You chuckled and pretended he was wrong, but could not help and steal a glance. Of course you wanted to impress them, what a joke to pretend you did not care. Why for, even you had no idea, but you knew you would be satisfied as long as they kept their eyes on you. Which they had stopped doing for a while now, seeing as they were cuddled up on one of the couches, Alexandra sitting on Charles’ lap, hands in his hair, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You could hear her giggles from afar, smell his shampoo, or maybe you just knew them too well for your own good.

You knew you were staring, knew Luca would be quick to catch on to what was happening if you did not get a hold of yourself, but it seemed that even the music and lights had faded in favor of the scene in front of you. It was hypnotizing, seeing her give in, seeing him take charge, knowing in your heart you should be there but never would be. Cheeks heating up, you turned back to Luca.

“I actually wouldn’t mind some company, if anyone here shares your opinion tonight.” Beaming, he hooked his arm with yours and took you straight to the bar to get a refill, which would inevitably end up spilled on the floor when he made you dance until you saw stars.

You don’t know how long you had danced for when he came to you. Hands sliding down your waist to your hips, his hot breath making the hairs on your neck dress up, you did not look up. You knew it wasn’t him. Because you knew how his hands felt from that one time he caught you from falling, because no man in their right mind would dance that way with their girlfriend’s friend in a crowded club, because it would never be your neck he buries his face in. But just for a few seconds, maybe minutes, you caught yourself hoping it was true, dreaming you would turn around and get a glimpse of green eyes before his lips crashed into yours. But the eyes were dark, the hair too blonde, the hands too soft. And yet you still let him kiss you, and when his slim fingers brought your dress higher on your buttcheeks, you even moaned in his mouth. Desperate was an understatement at this point.

“I’m going to put my fist so far up his ass he’ll be lucky if…” Alex’s sentence was cut short by Charles’ hand slamming against her face, flashing an apologetic smile to the friends they were chatting with and dragging her away. “Who even is that ? I’m going to get a bouncer to kick him out.” Charles had to tighten the grip on his arm to finally get her to look at him.

“Calm. Down.” This seemed to only piss her off more, but before she could start another rant, this time aimed at her boyfriend, he grabbed her by the neck and kissed her, giving him the advantage of surprise to then speak in her ear. “I know. But love, just look around you. At least half of this party knows us. I’m not sure punching a guy flirting with…” Unsure of how to call you to appease Alex, he opted for simplicity. “Y/N, and making a scene like a jealous wife is the best way to get her back.”

She sighed, head rubbing against the palm of his hand, before raising her doe eyes at him. “Then do it, Charles.” Getting closer to him, Alexandra brought her lips to his, her breath intoxicating like syrupy almonds. “Everyone knows you. Everyone loves you. Who would even dare to say something to Mr. Golden Boy.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she knew exactly how to get him. Sweet as honey, sharp as glass. “Why don’t you be a good boy and go fetch her for me, hm Charlie ?” He only managed to nod pathetically, his whole body aching to get on his knees and have her sit on his face.

The tension in his muscles was still present by the time he got to the bar stool where you were sitting, and he thought he might actually end up smashing the guy’s face against the counter. You were laughing like he had never heard before, the kind of sultry giggles that belonged to cab rides and hotel hallways, only an invitation for the hand already sat on your thigh to go up further. He barely had time to think of consequences, and you to realize he was standing behind you, before his hand fell to the guy’s shoulder, and he started speaking in his ear. The music was too loud, you were getting really drunk, so when the man’s eyes got wide, and he apologized before leaving in a hurry, you were unable to guess what Charles could have told him.

“I’m sorry, doll…” It wasn’t the first time he called you that, yet everytime it left your heart pulsing, and your core aching for more. You felt your legs wobble as he slid between them. “Seems he wasn’t interested in much more than a quick fling.” His fingers ran up your thigh and you almost fell the dig of a nail, before he took the hem of your dress and brought it back down to its usual length. The exhale that came out of your mouth felt like the first one in hours. “And you’re worth more than quick, aren’t you ?” At this moment, no, you weren’t worth more than that, you were yearning for someone to take your mind off the shitshow that was your heart, even if it meant bending over a bathroom sink for any nameless guy. But you smiled through the shivers and thanked him, even daring to put your hand on his. Everything was spinning, your ears were ringing, but he was smiling back at you, so maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. “Party’s over, let’s go home, doll.”

On the way back, Alex sat in the front of the car, but kept her hand on your knee the whole way, tracing small circles on your exposed skin. It almost seemed to you that with every sharp breath you took, you saw her smile in the car’s mirrors, but you fell asleep without being sure.

Even Charles was annoyed now. Maybe he could buy you a leash, make sure you were never straying too far. A tag too, so that you wouldn’t get lost. One with his name etched into the metal, just so there’d be no doubt. Just so that everyone knew who you belonged to. Would you be good ? Obedient ? He barely managed to get back to reality before his face got as red as his suit. Knee bouncing restlessly, his eyes were unable to leave you, bent over his car as a mechanic showed you his seat. If he could see you, it meant everyone could. And that was starting to get on his nerves.

“Sorry I found a pretty one” Alex whispered, sliding up behind him, her voice a low hum of amusement against his ear. “Sometimes I wish I could lock her up too…”

“I mean you could.” Charles knew he was fucking up. The words had tumbled out before he could stop himself, the implication behind heavy with something he would not dare to name. He knew his girlfriend had been teetering on the edge lately, and that any idea fueling her possessiveness would be considered, no matter how immoral. He knew he was supposed to be the voice of reason. Your soft way back to her, to them. Like the web to the spider. But this new mechanic he was definitely going to get fired was now making you try a headset, and he was playing with your hair, and the image of you getting yanked back to his feet was taking too much place in his brain. So when Alexandra stared at him, he simply shrugged, surrendering. “I don’t want her to stray too far when I’m on track. Who knows what could happen to her.”

When the free practice started, and Alexandra sent you to get her painkillers from the “infirmary”, you didn’t know what you were getting into. As the door locked behind you in the small storage room, you became painfully aware that you had no idea how this world worked. You had followed her instructions blindly, not really knowing anyone, and not wanting to cause trouble. And now you were banging on the door, feeling the air slowly get out of your lungs as the panic took over your body. There wasn’t any light in the room, and you could faintly hear the rumbles of the cars in the distance. Everyone was probably busy either watching or working on the track. No one would hear you scream, yet you begged for help with every bit of energy left in you.

Claustrophobia had been the fear you never got over. Taking stairs rather than elevators and walking over crowded buses, you had mostly managed on your own. But there you were, stuck in what seemed smaller than your bathroom at the residency, wondering if you were about to suffocate to death between tyre blankets and wires in Abu Dhabi. Charles had told you the practices lasted about an hour. But would you ? And even if your lungs hadn’t burnt from the thick air then, would someone find you right away ? Who could even come to look for you, in such a foreign place, with no friends other than two of the busiest people there could be this weekend ? Tears streaming down your face, you found yourself wishing you had never left their side. Maybe that would have been childish, but you would have been safe.

“Y/N ? Y/N are you in there ?” Anywhere in the world you would have recognized this voice. The only one that would understand your pain because she knew your fears. You screamed her name and heard rustling in the hallway. For a second when the door opened, she stood bathed in the clinical white lights, and you thought you had died. No angel would ever come close to such a vision. “Y/N ! Mon chou come here oh my god” She fell to her knees, opening her arms, and it felt like coming home. To hell with the physical distance, to hell with the principles. She had found you. She had saved you. Your head in her neck and her hands in your hair, you tightened your arms against her even when she gasped, but pulled you even closer. The tears falling down on your cheeks weren’t yours only, and you could barely make out what she was saying.

When the buzzing in your ears finally calmed down, she had cupped your face, whispering inches away from it. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you you’re safe. Please don’t leave me anymore. Please please please Y/N I beg you I got so scared, you weren’t coming back and I thought something had happened to you, it’s not safe here.” Rubbing your cheek with her thumb, she even kissed repeatedly your forehead as you could only nod, still crying. “Stay by my side, please never do that again. I thought I had lost you, I thought…”

You said yes, over and over again, apologizing as if it had been your fault, promising to be good like a prayer to a benevolent deity.

When Charles got out of the car and saw you holding Alex’s hand, your whole body twitching while she was beaming, he could not help but smirk. On a counter next to his phone, the keys to one of the storage rooms sat innocently, gleaming under the lights.

The weeks following the incident felt like a blur, as if your mind was slowly sinking into the mist of December mornings, and the last of your independence with it. Wherever you turned, Alexandra’s warmth and Charles’s steady hands were there, lingering at the edge of your vision, too close to be a coincidence.

But it was too comforting to not bathe in it. Your mind kept on replaying the moment your friend had found you in the storage room so many times it became a mantra, a balm to soothe the fear that still clawed at your thoughts at night. She found you. She saved you. She would never leave you. Charles too, after making a scene at the race and demanding the lack of safety in the infrastructure to be investigated, had made a point of shielding you from anything he deemed not safe. Which now that you were back in Monaco, seemed to be everything and everyone. You caught him glaring more than once at strangers, his body always carefully sliding between you and anyone who got too close.

Yet you had also been witness to the ugly side of fame since, the shadows it casted and the vultures it attracted, and trusted them to keep you away from it. All celebrities seemed to like their private life to stay, well… Private, and so when he brushed a stray hair from your face and told you he wouldn’t let any creep bother his dear friend, you believed him.

And truth be told, you loved the attention. That’s what you wished for, all you ever wanted, you told yourself as Alex braided your hair on the couch of the residency, Charles scrolling on his phone, his knee brushing absent-mindedly against yours. It was sweet, how they cared so much. Your roommates had given up on understanding, as long as the mood was not as icy as it had been the past month, they were fine with pretending nothing had ever happened. Life itself seemed to be so much easier with just them anyway. Why bother looking elsewhere, for what even ?

“I thought you were really cute, and I just wanted to give you my number, if you ever wanna go on a date.” The French accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and you nodded, blushing, as the barista winked at you. Your gaze immediately darted to the side, as if they’d be standing there, watching. But you had come alone, like stepping outside without a coat, not sure how you were now feeling about the decision. No matter what, it seemed their presence clung to you like a second skin.

They weren’t stopping you from dating, or making friends out of the internship. But it had been a while since you had thought about anyone else in that manner, and stepping out of the comfortable bubble you had built around the three of you now seemed like such an effort, on top of being scary. A voice in your head, your voice probably, even though it sounded too much like Alexandra’s, always ended up whispering : What else do you need that you don’t already have ?

The barista’s number scribbled on a napkin stayed untouched in your bag. Charles’ eyes had lingered too long on your phone screen one night, and when you mentioned in passing the way the uber driver had complimented your makeup, Alex had tilted her head just slightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, her tongue brushing faintly against her canine. But they laughed it off, and you laughed with them, sinking into a soft net that felt more silk than cloud.

Had you been more careful, maybe you would have seen the signs. The way stuff in your bedroom seemed to change places, or even disappear. The deleted messages sent from your own phone, asking to be left alone, confirming you weren’t interested. The delicate touch of a hand on your arm, the oh-so-French kiss on the cheeks you always seemed to receive whenever a flirtatious wink was sent your way. But you had missed her, and you liked him so much, and for nothing in the world you would go back to a world where those weren’t your best friends. No matter how hard it was to fall asleep picturing them running their hands further than morality authorized.

As you lingered by Marco’s door, his bed still a wreck even though he had left a week ago, you couldn’t help but sigh. The house was so quiet, barely troubled by the faint swirl of wind in the garden. You thought you would like it this way. Even though it had been fun, living with seven other art students had been… Messy. Now everyone had gone home, and there was no need for fighting over the thermostat or Sunday mornings rush to get groceries anymore. Only the handmade decorations were left behind, like ghosts of their absence.

You couldn’t explain to yourself why you had resisted going home. On the phone with your mother, you had brushed it off with excuses about the time-consuming art pieces, the flights, and how it would be easier to stay. But when the clock struck midnight on the 22, and the thought of waking up alone for the next few days clawed at your chest, you booked the next available flight. You’d surprise your family. Sitting at the table and laughing at their jokes and going for a walk after lunch. You’d come home.

The morning of the 24th greeted you with hope, and then a storm. Nice’s airport’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crowd’s disappointed faces as flight after flight turned red on the departure boards. You tried to stay calm, fiddling with a trinket tied to your bag, but when the announcement came that no flights would leave until the storm cleared, something inside you cracked. You were stuck. Not home. Not Monaco.

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Alexandra’s contact. You hadn’t told them you were leaving, hadn’t wanted to explain why the urge to run away, and why you were now desperately crawling back. The empty airport felt like punishment, and your fingers moved before you could second-guess yourself. Faced with her warm voice, the words tumbled out on their own. The storm. The canceled flights. The panic of the crowd slowly but surely spreading to you.

“You stay there, we’re coming to get you”. You barely had time to protest before the call ended.

When their car pulled up outside the terminal, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the windshield as Charles parked. Alex hopped out, an umbrella barely covering her as she ran to you, her sparkly short dress illuminating the pavement. “Oh, mon chou, you must be freezing,” she cooed, wrapping her coat around your shoulders and guiding you to the car.

Charles was waiting, heater blasting, his smile soft as he looked back at you from the driver’s seat. “You should’ve told us you were leaving,” he said, a hint of reproach softened by his tone.

You shrugged, sinking into the warmth of the car. “It was a last-minute thing.”

Alexandra clicked her tongue, clearly disapproving, as she slid in beside you. “At least you have your bag ready.” You barely had time to register what was happening as you saw Charles type in an address that was definitely not the residency. Before you could ask, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You’re not spending Christmas alone, doll. I called my mom on the way, so I hope you like oysters.” He broke eye contact as you opened your mouth to protest, his voice much lower, daring you to defy him. “Don’t argue with me, it’s already settled.”

Their idea of Christmas was something out of a dream. Charles’ family home in Monaco was decked out in soft lights and greenery, the smell of mulled wine and myriads of meals filling every corner. His family welcomed you with open arms, and Alexandra’s parents, who had joined as well, treated you with the delicate attention of pretending like your presence had always been planned.

The day went on as if you were stuck in the flow of a warm river, feeling the deep call you but unable to move a muscle to swim against it. You hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger, Charles steering you away from the kitchen when you offered to help, pressing a glass of wine in your hand instead. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, Y/N. Relax.”

Everytime someone asked how you were enjoying the day, one of them was always quick to describe how “special” it was to have you here, and how glad they were to finally be able to introduce you. Their attention was always on you, always ready for any request you might have. What had become a natural habit, developing over the last few weeks, was now exacerbated under the glimmering lights, and the Christmas tree seemed to wink at you, knowingly, as if it was in on whatever elaborate spectacle Charles and Alexandra had orchestrated. Their care was overbearing but left no room for complaint. By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. An intricate figurine in a glass case, too precious to touch but constantly on display. Anytime Charles called for his doll, you got dizzier.

When everyone gathered around the fireplace to open their gifts, the cook gave you a knowing look and gestured at another glass of wine left on the kitchen counter, before swiftly exiting the room. You gladly took it and observed from afar the parade of extravagance. Designer clothes, limited-edition art pieces, concerts tickets in another country. If you thought your own Christmases back home were lavish, it was no comparison to the Leclerc’s.

“Here, mon chou.” Alexandra purred, pressing a carefully wrapped small box in your hand. “We planned on giving it to you next week but now’s even better.”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone turned to you. This was not planned. You did not have time to get either of them anything, even less their families. It all felt like a show you had never agreed on being a part of. “You really didn’t have to-”

“Open it.” Charles interrupted, his grin infuriating, dimples bigger than ever. He lounged back on the sofa, one ankle resting casually on his knee, his gaze fixed on you. With a brush of his hands, he pretended to swish away your worries. “We’ll go and change it if you don’t like it”.

The box revealed a delicate bracelet, platinum with tiny diamonds winking along its length. Sucking in a breath, you felt their eyes on you, expectant, hungry for your reaction. “It’s pretty, no ?” Alexandra’s voice was eager, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bracelet to clasp it around your wrist. It was too much. The alcohol made your head pound and you felt like throwing up. Raising your eyes, the guilt hit you like a wave. They had done so much for you, gone out of their way to include you, and you couldn’t even summon the gratitude they deserved ? The metal was biting into your skin as if in reprimand, your whole body feeling like fire since you had finished your glass. Taking a deep breath, you excused yourself to “freshen up”.

The low hum of voices faded as you found a quiet room in the labyrinth that was the house. This is what you’d always wanted, wasn’t it ? To be cared for, adored, treated like the most important person in the room ? Then why did it feel too much ? Why did it feel like drowning ? You thought back to October, and quickly recognized the signs of your love barging through the door, demanding the best place at the table. You couldn’t let either of them know you were back on your stupid feelings, or they would leave you again. And then ? You had seen the pain, for everyone involved. Good friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. You exhaled, praying for your thoughts to shut up, concentrating on the wind outside.

It was Charles that came for you, sitting carefully next to you on the bed, as though you might shatter if he moved an inch wrong. Turning away from the frosted window, you murmured. “Just needed a breather.”

“I’m sorry.” Before you even had time to ask what for, he sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “For all of this. We just wanted to make you feel welcome but… It’s obviously not working.” Running a hand through his hair, betraying his frustration, his other one went tentatively to yours, and your fingers laced together. “I can see you’re not enjoying this, and I know it will never be the same as being with your family.”

“Charles, I don’t-”

“I can arrange a plane.” He was rambling on, a habit they seemed to share, and in the soft light of the moon, you could swear his eyes were red. “First thing in the morning, have you be home before lunch. We love having you here, doll, but… I think it might have been selfish of us.” There. You had made him sad. He had made you feel like family and you had fled like a spoiled child. If anyone was selfish here, it was you.

“No !” You blurted, the word too loud, startling even yourself. Moving towards him on instinct, you threw yourself in his arms, hands gripping to his back, fingers curling against the smooth fabric of his sweater. He tilted his head, questioning, but you only buried your face against his chest. “I… I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I didn’t mean to. It’s not too much, you’re not too much. You could never be. I’ll try harder, I’ll appreciate it more, I’m sorry I-” It seemed the habit had also infected you, and your monologue was stopped by Charles’ thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“Shhh” The hand that was in your back went up to your head, softly rubbing your hair, as you lost yourself in his eyes. Were those freckles or just beauty spots ? Had those always been here ? You felt tempted to touch them but froze up when your lips opened up on instinct. Seriously, how many drinks did you have ? “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to feel welcomed and… Appreciated.” The moment stretched, world narrowing to the warmth of his arms and the pulse of your heart as he opened your mouth even more and slid his thumb past your lips, your teeth, and to rest against your tongue. “And loved.” His gaze was fixated on your lips, and for a brief moment, until footsteps were heard in the hallway, you thought he was going to kiss you, or maybe slap you. You wouldn’t have protested either.

His lips went to brush softly against your forehead, and it took every last ounce of self-control in you to not bite down on his thumb as he took it out of your mouth. His fingers traced down your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck, where he softly closed his fingers around your throat as the moan that had been stuck in there was finally let free. You wanted this moment to last forever, almost wished he would choke you out so you would never have to go back to reality. But something snapped suddenly in his eyes, and he ruffled at your hair before standing up with a confidence that made you question if the moment had truly happened, or if the cook had spiked your drink. In the white light of the night, his finger shined briefly with saliva, and you followed him back to the living room like a dog who had gotten the sweetest treat.

The floor length mirror stared back at you, unkind in its honesty. You leaned in as Alexandra gently titled your chin up with her fingertips, her voice humming as she added the finishing touches to your makeup. The sharpness of your features seemed amplified under their bedroom golden light, and your reflection felt foreign. Maybe it was the week, and its endless swirl of champagne, parties, and faces you couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was the memory of Christmas Eve, and its almost-kiss which kept replaying in your mind like a broken record you didn’t have the strength to discard.

Charles hadn’t mentioned it. Not a word. The morning after, his smile came on as easy as ever, his voice smooth and jokes easy, as if nothing had happened. Alex had thrown herself onto him, bathing him in affection, as though your world hadn’t turned upside down in that hidden room. Even now, as his hands brushed against your shoulders, slipping the straps of your too-short dress into place, you were wondering if you hadn’t dreamed it all.

“Stop squirming” He teased, smoothing out the fabric and pulling up the zipper.

Alexandra laughed and stepped back to inspect her work, two fingers still holding your chin. “She’s not squirming, she’s just nervous.”

“Il y a pas de quoi être stressé, c’est le Nouvel An, pas une gardav’ non plus…” Not understanding the slang, you copied your friend’s reaction, and as she clicked her tongue, you rolled your eyes.

You felt like an imposter. How could you have let it get this far ? You were supposed to go back to being friends, that was the deal. Not over complicating things, not pushing boundaries of what they were giving you. But then every time one of their friends got curious about you, Alexandra would say you were “Just someone special”, her casual voice contrasting with her nails scratching on your thigh. Her eyes would flicker, the kind that warned you not to correct her, and you let yourself get locked up in this almost-relationship that you had so desperately tried to escape a few weeks before.

Reaching for the curling iron, she murmured, more observation than question. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Just tired, I guess… We’ve gone out a lot this week.” You forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance, but Charles simply raised a brow, not impressed.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just stay there, order some food, …”

You cut him off by twirling on yourself, the dress flaring so high it couldn’t have been conceived to cover anything. Alexandra groaned and caught you by the shoulders to steady you, apparently not satisfied with your curls. “When I look like that ? It would be such a waste !” The green-eyed boy chuckled and nodded in agreement. Dressed to perfection, your hair soft and shining, you looked exactly like what they wanted you to be : a doll. And truth be told, you enjoyed it. When he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and they both looked at you with something that could be pride, you knew you owed it to them to have fun, at least tonight, at least the following months. At least until England called you back and you answered, leaving your summer love to rest on the green hills. You owed it to them to pretend you weren’t haunted by the ghost of “almost”, and maybe you could even pretend long enough to end up believing it yourself.

“Close it, you’re going to swallow a fly.” Charles pushed softly on your chin to close your mouth you had left wide in awe, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Much funnier in French…” He mumbled before leaving his keys to a valet, and opening the way for you and Alexandra. The mansion was huge, its garden spilling to the edge of the woods behind it, and the music pulsing through the air carried promises of a night you might not remember in the morning.

It seemed everyone who knew a Formula 1 driver, directly or indirectly, had been invited. Some faces you recognized, but most not, and the shower of compliments you found yourself in as soon as you stepped foot in the main living room quickly felt suffocating. The polite flirting made you feel uneasy, their admiration like scrutiny, and before you even had time to cling to your anchors, they drifted away. “I’ll be right back, chou.” Charles’ hand brushed briefly against yours before he followed his girlfriend to go greet some friends, and you stayed right where they left you.

No matter how much you repeated your internal calming mantra, the vulnerability was creeping in. There were too many people you didn't know, and so you made it a mission to not lose again the only two that mattered. When they asked if you were having fun, you nodded, the lie automatic. For the following hours, it turned to truth, as you stuck close to them like a guard dog unwilling to stray too far from its leash. If Charles moved to refill a drink, you downed yours too quickly to follow. If Alexandra drifted to another conversation, your hand clung to her elbow, begging to tag along. You weren’t proud of it, but the dread clawed at your chest every time you stood alone for more than a heartbeat. You were enjoying yourself as long as you weren’t left to your own devices. Long gone was the resolution of making new friends, it seemed.

The air in the house had been filled with tension as midnight approached, and you felt like you had suddenly woken up. A glass of something golden in your hand, its fizz long forgotten, you were nodding along to Pierre’s story about an incident on a recent trip, while his girlfriend Kika hung onto his arm, punctuating his tale with playful jabs. You tried to listen, you really did, but something was missing, and you couldn’t help but give in to the voices bothering your every thought as he wrapped up his story.

“Have you seen Charles ? Or Alex…?”

Kika’s lips curled, mischief in her eyes, and she exchanged a look with Pierre who chuckled. “They’ve probably gone to enjoy the view, as usual.”

“Top floor,” Kika added, still giggling as she sipped her cocktail. “There’s a balcony up there that’s quite… Private.”

Mumbling a quick excuse, you set your glass down and slipped away, through the maze of guests and corridors of the sprawling mansion. The thud in your ears was soon more heartbeat than music, the knot in your stomach tightening between unease and anticipation. When you reached the top floor, the door to the bedroom was ajar, dim light coming from within and spilling onto the hallway. You closed it behind you, breath stuck in your throat.

There they were. Alexandra’s back was pressed against the railing, her sequined dress shimmering in the moonlight as Charles leaned into her. His hands rested on either side of her waist, fingers curling possessively over the iron, as he brought one knee up between her legs, silencing her laugh. He was working down her throat when she opened her mouth, eyes fixed on you, but did not stop kissing and biting, seemingly not caring.

“Oh darling, caught us” She purred, her voice thick with amusement. Her manicured finger pointed at you before curling, inviting you to come closer. You should not. You should flee. This was not your moment, it would never be. Also, you should keep a closer eye on your drinks because someone was definitely having fun drugging you lately, no way any of this was true. But your feet moved before your brain was done having a panic attack, and you found yourself gently pushed in the woman’s arms by Charles.

She probably saw your eyes jumping from one to the other, thoughts racing behind them at light speed, and with each hand on your cheeks, centered you back to her face. This felt like deja-vu, your lips so close, your perfume swirling together, like the wish you had screamed to the moon that night was finally becoming true, only a few months too late.

“I’m sorry.” Oh no. Oh not again. You were about to jump out of her embrace when you felt his body behind yours, closing back on both of you as his hands caught on the guardrail once more. “Stay. Please.” Not like you had much of a choice anyway. Charles was looking down at the garden over her shoulder, badly pretending as if he wasn’t inches away from the most private conversation happening tonight. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what was going on between us. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process. You deserve the world, not any of the mess I put you through. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” She was already forgiven, how could she not when her apologies were whispered between your lips. “But I know where I stand now. And if you allow me, I’ll never give you less than the world. Because that’s what you deserve. Because you love me and I love you.”

“Ten !” Charles took a step to the side as the screams from downstairs echoed through the whole house. He leaned on the balcony, and you almost fell to the floor from the shaking in your legs. “Nine !” She caught you by the waist and pulled you back to her with a laugh, one so hesitant it could only be filled with honesty.

“Eight !” You were dreaming. You wanted to punch yourself to wake up, but without even knowing how, your hands had gone up to her arms, shoulders, neck, cheek. “Seven !” You had promised yourself, you had promised her, and Chiara, and the world itself, that you would be fine being just friends. “Six !” Why was she the one ruining all of your efforts ? Why was she still the one you would wait for, when everyone else was long gone ?

“Five !” Was Charles just going to stand there, and pretend like his girlfriend didn’t confess to someone else ? “Four !” Maybe they had talked ? Maybe they had been open this whole time and you hadn’t seen the signs ? Would he kiss you too ? “Three !”

You cupped her cheeks and it felt like the world exploded when your lips met. Or maybe it was just the fireworks. Maybe it was the culmination of months of pining, love and pain, that was giving her kiss a taste of blood, a taste of more. She switched your places, pinning you against the barrier and deepened the kiss as your hands tugged at her hair, undoing the curls she had so carefully crafted. Everyone was screaming for the New Year, but you felt like they were doing it for you. Is that how it felt, to love and be loved ? Like you would rather run out of oxygen than end the moment. Like teeths and tongues, being fourteen and messy all over again. Like a movie-worthy compilation of every smile she had flashed you for the last four months was playing behind your closed eyes.

When you opened them, her mouth now running wild on your jaw, it’s a green spark of amusement that was looking back at you, a slow whistle coming out of his dry lips. Shit. You had kissed his girlfriend. Or his girlfriend had kissed you. And he wasn’t moving to join in. Were you about to be thrown from the highest balcony in some sick kind of real-life Cluedo ? But he simply brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and the small caress he gave to Alexandra’s back made her moan against your collarbones. “Les clés sont sur la porte mon amour.” She mumbled what you understood to be thank you, not sure why for, as he moved towards the door.

“Wait Charlie I’m…” It was difficult to talk with Alex, determined to kiss every inch of visible skin on your body, and there was a lot. “I’m sorry I… What’s happening ?” You could only hope they had not broken up, not because of you, yet you saw no world in which this situation would be acceptable for him. With his usual playful grin you had grown so fond of, he winked at you before exiting the room swiftly.

“There’s a time for actions, and a time for explanations. Happy New Year, doll.”

With every step that she took you followed, painfully aware of how much she knew you, much better than you would have thought. Kissing in all the right places, her grin was getting wider every time you winced under the dig of her sharp nails, and she hushed you as if the drunken screams downstairs weren’t covering your moans. But you were determined to be good, as you had been from day one, and so you bit the pillow and pulled at her hair, let her know it hurts and let her keep going, because you loved her and she loved you. And she would never leave you.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @eternoange1 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3 // @spookystitchery // @erikasurfer // @catswag22 // @appl3-0rchard // @janeh22 // @boohoneyy // @sheslikeacurse // @customsbyjcg-blog // @urmotheris // @lewisvinga // @formulaal // @novocainenoon // @taytaylala12 // @esterdnebe // @jack0357 // @mortallyblueninja // @jexxy04 // @itsprashimusic // @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp // @annabellelee // @natsmywife // @daisyfreecs // @scorpiomindfuck // @themessietbihalive // @ananyasr1bughead

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misojunnie · 2 months ago

Text

COVET 𖣂

how far would you go for love?

your boyfriend jungwon has always been a kind soul. he refused to hurt a spider, much less a human, but when a new, younger, attractive admirer enters your life, something in him changes. as jealousy begins to consume him, and the competition between the two boys ensues, you watch your life turn upside down.

pairing: bf!jungwon vs. admirer!riki x fem!reader

genre: psychological thriller, horror, love triangle, established relationship au

warnings: violence, dark and disturbing behavior, substance use, murder, slow burn (only gets scary at the end) no mature themes! enha’s behavior and personalities are not a reflection of reality, it’s just a story

featuring: enhypen

playlist: runaway by kanye west, nowhere to run by stegosaurus rex, S.D.O.S by alex g, sour times - live version by portishead, violent youth by crystal castles, goth by sidewalks and skeletons

word count: 12.6k

taglist! @enhacolor @jwnghyuns @theothernads @adoredbyjay @firstclassjaylee @dollschan @enreveriee @surrik-i @jwonistic @laurradoesloveu @laylasbunbunny @tmtxtf

network tags: @kflixnet @kvanity-main @k-radio @enhypennetwork

see the trailer.

a/n: hello all! welcome to the first installment of fright night, my halloween series! I hope you enjoy ❤️

You had never considered yourself an overtly desirable person.

You spent the majority of your school years being ignored. You didn’t have many friends, and you spent most of your lunches eating alone. For a long time, school felt like torture.

Meeting Yang Jungwon felt like a breath of fresh air.

You met in your junior year. Neither of you were exactly popular, and you both seemed to have an innate ability to blend into the background. But upon meeting each other, you realized you didn’t have to hide yourself. Jungwon valued you for exactly who you were. And he valued you very, very much.

Before you knew it, you were spending every waking moment with him. He would sneak into your bedroom window after dark. You’d stay up until the sun rose, speaking in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. You quickly realized that he was the only person in the world who you could tell everything to.

The last day of junior year, he kissed you under the willow tree in your front yard. You didn’t think you’d ever felt happier in your life.

And suddenly, your life was all about Yang Jungwon.

You spent almost every day of summer by his side, doing everything imaginable. Picnics in the park, walks on the beach, night drives, your hair whipping in the cold nighttime wind as he sped down the highway, laughing. You had never been this happy before, and neither had he. Then, summer ended.

You didn’t think Jungwon had changed, but the people around you disagreed.

Jungwon grew a few inches over the summer. His clothes suddenly fit him awkwardly as he filled out in the shoulders and the arms, and his pants were now just a little too short. He dropped the rest of his baby fat, his cheekbones emerging from underneath his young skin. He cut his hair, and his long brown locks were suddenly gone, shaggy against his forehead. You had always thought Jungwon was beautiful, but suddenly, it seemed like the whole world thought the same thing.

You returned to senior year together, and the entire school began treating him like a different person. He received love notes in class, giggles and looks of desire as he walked down the hallways.

You were terrified that he would change upon receiving this newfound attention. But Jungwon never changed. He showed you off to his new friends, dripping praise. He took you to the parties he was suddenly invited to, and stayed by your side the entire night, even when beautiful girls approached him and asked him to dance. He told everyone he met that you were perfect, and nothing about you needed to change. And slowly, you began to believe it. At the same time, the world began to finally see you for who you were.

Jungwon was loyal. He knew he had found something special with you, and he never considered for a minute that he might abandon it. And despite rising in the ranks of high-school-high-society, he made sure you never felt left behind.

That was what you loved about him the most. He really never changed.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Halloween was your favorite time of the year. After summer, of course.

You loved the scary movies, the gaudy costumes, the foggy weather with golden leaves. Not to mention you were a horror connoisseur, which meant you knew exactly what movies to play to make Jungwon freak out. He wasn’t a big fan of scary things.

But you loved Halloween, and Jungwon loved you, so he did too.

You sat in the back of your class, brainstorming your plans for the month. You were 19 now, Jungwon being a year older. You were in your sophomore year of college. It felt like an eternity ago that you spent those carefree summer days on the beach with the man you had now been dating for four years.

You were a semester into the year already, and you generally got to know everyone in your class. But the door to the lecture hall swung open, and in walked a face you knew you had never seen before.

He was tall, very tall. It was the first thing you noticed; how he towered over the rest of the men. His face was striking, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked a little younger than yourself. It was as if he brought in an icy draft with him as he walked inside, and you rubbed your hands, suddenly a bit colder than before.

As he walked past your desk, he slowed. He looked at you briefly, before walking to the farthest seat in the class, setting down his bag and crossing his arms. He didn’t speak to anyone. You attempted to ignore him, taking out your notes. But something in your gut told you to turn around, and there he was. Staring at you. You shook it off, too afraid to turn around lest he was staring again.

But when you inevitably did, he didn’t break eye contact.

You were a bit shaken by your interaction with the mysterious boy.

He intrigued you. Since you started dating Jungwon, you viewed thinking about other men as a kind of unrepentable crime. You had always been the kind of person who saved their heart for only one person. The lecture hall was almost empty by now, and you packed your bag. Only after a moment did you notice you weren’t alone.

“Hey.” he said. You startled, turning around to meet the eyes of the very boy you had just been thinking about.

“Oh, hi.” you said, attempting to be casual.

“I’m Riki. What’s your name?” he asked curiously, and you indulged him.

“I’m y/n.” you responded, unsure of how to introduce yourself, so you settled on reaching out a friendly hand. He stared at it for a moment, before laughing, shaking your hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” Something about him was inexplicably charming. He had seemed cold and unapproachable when he first walked in, but you felt the warmth of his smile, heard the wind chimes of his soft laugh. “Today’s my first day here.”

“Ah, new transfer.” you said, chipper as you began walking down the stairs. He followed you, a step behind. “Welcome to Decelis University.”

“That’s the first greeting I’ve gotten.” he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Nice to know I’m welcome.” You felt bad for him somehow. He was intimidating, that was for sure. With his angular face and dark energy, you bet people had been misjudging him.

“Of course. Always nice to meet a new student.”

“So, tell me about yourself.” you raised a brow at his odd question, but complied.

By the time you responded, you were in the halls, still walking together.

“Well, I’m a sophomore. I moved from Seoul, and I’m a psychology major. But I like literature.” you said, satisfied with your answer, confused when he shook his head.

“No, not that. Something real.” You considered it. Did you really want to tell something real to a man you had just met? It felt traitorous somehow.

“I don’t know, I’d have to think about it.” you responded, shrugging, and he smiled abstractedly at your answer. “Why don’t you tell me something about you?”

“Well, I’m a freshman. I just moved here a couple months ago from Osaka,” he added, and you nodded curiously. “I’m double majoring in forensic science and neuroscience, with a minor in psychology. Oh, and I like to paint.”

“Oh, an overachiever.” you said with amusement, and he shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “I know your type.”

“Trust me, I don’t think you do.” he grinned, and you laughed. You didn’t realize how far you had been walking together, and suddenly you were in the courtyard, rapidly approaching your usual meeting spot with your boyfriend.

And he was there. He was smiling, excited to see you, but his expression dropped when he saw you walking with a man he had never seen before, a man with the face of an angel and the eyes of a devil.

“Shit, that’s my boyfriend.” you said, suddenly aware of Jungwon’s presence and hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression. Riki hummed, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, your boyfriend.” he said, enunciating the last word in a way you didn’t like.

“See you tomorrow Riki.” you said quickly, leaving his side to speedily walk to Jungwon, not waiting for a response. “Sorry, have you been waiting long?” Jungwon didn’t answer, his eyes still trained on the boy standing a few yards away.

“Who’s that?” he asked, and you tried to discern the tone of his voice, unable to. “A new friend?” You scoffed, waving your hand dismissively.

“Hardly. He just transferred to my class today. I barely remember his name.” you responded hastily, and Jungwon raised a brow. He chose to ignore any begrudging thoughts, placing his hand on the small of your back with a smile.

As you both turned away, Jungwon looked over his shoulder, gazing back into the eyes of the man behind you. He was still staring.

As a pair, you strode away to your favorite lunch spot. Jungwon didn’t want to think about this new boy, who he was, or what his intentions were. He assumed this was a confused freshman who needed help navigating the new school, and flocked to the nearest friendly smile and set of kind eyes.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this boy was going to be a very big problem.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon was upset.

He tried not to show it. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but he was. Underneath it all, he hated the idea of other men thinking about you the way he did.

Back in high school, a part of him regretted inviting you into his newfound popularity. You were beautiful. You were intelligent. You were funny. You had all the good qualities; the issue was that nobody but him could see them. By bringing you into the spotlight, suddenly everyone finally recognized you for what you were. And he quickly realized that he preferred when he was the only one that could see you.

But it made you confident, and certainly happier, which was all he cared about in the end. He let go of those resentments because he saw how much you loved being loved. You were a human being. He couldn’t be angry at that.

But this man, this new man, Jungwon didn’t trust him one bit.

The truth was, Jungwon didn’t trust men at all. He thought men were loathsome, foul creatures. It was why he preferred spending his time with you. Every man he had ever met had some kind of twisted, sick problem on the inside. They just didn’t show it. But Jungwon saw it. He noticed the little things.

And his gut was telling him that this man was up to no good.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You worked at a charming American diner near your campus. Even with you and Jungwon both contributing to rent, you were barely able to afford your little apartment, so you took almost every shift you could.

You were surprised to see Riki walk into your restaurant.

“Hey.” he greeted you with a nod of his head, seating himself at a booth in the corner. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all. “You work here?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stumbled over your words. You were shocked that he had so easily managed to invade an intimate part of your life, but it was close to the college, and you shook it off, knowing he likely wanted a warm meal after a long night of classes. You glanced at your watch. You closed in twenty minutes. “What can I get for you?”

He rolled his shoulders, not bothering to look at the menu. “Oh, just get me whatever your favorite is.” You scrawled an order down on your notepad.

“So, how’d you end up in my restaurant?” you joked, and he shrugged casually.

“What can I say, I like American food.” you hummed, turning around to take his order to the kitchen. He followed you with his eyes, leaning back further in his seat.

You tucked the slip into the order wheel, hesitating to go back as you observed the frantic kitchen. It wasn’t like you had anything against Riki, but he seemed like the type of guy you tried to stay away from in high school, and that combined with his apparent interest in you made you nervous. Not to mention the fact that your boyfriend probably wasn’t fond of seeing you together.

“Your food.” you said, eventually deciding to return to Riki’s table. He didn’t seem remotely interested in the food.

“Sit down with me.” he requested, and you raised a brow at him. “Come on, it’s not like you have anything better to do.” he chuckled, gesturing at the nearly empty diner. It was now twelve minutes until closing time, and he was right, you had nothing else to do. So you took a seat.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked after a moment, looking pointedly at his food, which he hadn’t touched. He smiled, picking up a fork and taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he said, chewing. “But I’m more interested in talking to you.”

“And why is that?” you questioned with amusement. He shrugged.

“You’re interesting.” he replied, and you scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“So that’s why you’ve been bothering me?” He put a hand over his heart.

“Ouch. That wounds me. I thought we were friends.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t contain a mild smile. He noticed, and smiled as well.

“Sure. We’re friends.” you said, resting your chin on your palm as you propped your arm up on the table. “So, you like American food?”

“Sure,” he said, not seeming very opinionated on the matter. “I was more drawn in by the ambiance. It’s a nice place.” He was right. It was a nice diner, with checkered floors, vintage movie posters, and intimate little booths. You were suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the romantic atmosphere, and swallowed dryly.

“Yeah, I agree. The ambience is kinda the whole appeal.”

“So you like nice restaurants.” His gaze was intense, and the way it drew you in made you uncomfortable. His charisma felt dangerously sharp, like a knife.

“That’s one way to say it.” you said. He grinned.

“So when can I take you out to one?” your amused expression dropped.

“That’s not funny.”

“It isn’t?” he said innocently, and you stood up, a hand lingering on the table before you glanced at your watch. Luckily your shift was over, and you had an excellent excuse to get out of this situation, and out from under his piercing eyes.

“My shift’s over. Goodnight, Riki.” you said firmly, untying your apron. He watched carefully as you strode quickly to the kitchen, ducking behind the metal doors.

You didn’t come back out, and after a moment of waiting, he left his money on the table and walked out the door, not bothering to finish his food.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki had been thinking about you all day.

He wasn’t sure what it was that attracted him, but he found you interesting. What he liked the most was that you were genuine. He had a good eye for superficial people, and you weren’t one of them. You meant everything that came out of your mouth.

Riki had been a heartbreaker in high school, and he planned on being the same in college. Not a week went by where his breakups didn’t scandalize the school, and that was just how he liked it. Some people thought he was a womanizer; he disagreed. He thought that attraction was power, and people should use it to their advantage.

The truth was, Riki wasn’t fond of men. He thought they were liars. Maybe he and Jungwon had something in common in that regard. He liked that women were honest, open with their emotions and intentions. Men hid their motivations, hid their secrets, hid everything. Riki was an open book. He told every girl whose heart he’d broken that it would end up badly. And when it inevitably went wrong, he said I told you so.

And because Riki didn’t like men, he wanted to take things from them. When he found a man he didn’t trust, a man he knew was rotten, he robbed him of his worth. His happiness. His girlfriend. And he was going to do it again here, he was determined.

He didn’t trust your boyfriend. He may seem perfect on paper, but Riki could tell there was something rotting beneath the surface. Everyone had something to hide. And he was going to expose whatever your boyfriend was hiding.

It’s what he always did.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you.

In his heart, he knew it was wrong. He had never not trusted you before, and he wasn’t sure what was happening to him. He was uneasy, anxious, and upset. Yesterday, the two of you had lunch and he barely touched his food. That night, he didn’t sleep.

It wasn’t like guys hadn’t pursued you before. In the past four years, boys would hit on you at parties, in class, even on your dates. He’d tell them to scram, and then you’d laugh about it together afterward. It had never bothered him when other guys were interested in you; if anything, it made him more proud of himself for being with you. In fact, he wasn’t even certain that this particular man was interested in you at all.

That was until he saw you having dinner together.

You were sitting in the corner booth. Through the foggy glass, Jungwon could see his face, smiling. His eyes were crescent moons as he chuckled at something you said, neither of you eating, just speaking. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling back at him, and he wanted to know desperately.

When he saw you get up and go to the kitchen, he checked the time on his watch. Your shift was over, which meant he needed to get a move on, and he shoved his hands in his pockets before speeding in the direction of your shared apartment.

He felt horrible about what he had just done. He knew he was your boyfriend, but watching you without you knowing felt like a crime. He walked with a pit in his stomach, anxious to beat you home. He didn’t want you to know he had been acting strangely.

He trusted you. He trusted you with his entire heart, as he had been for the past four years, without regret.

But could he trust the people around you?

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was back in your diner, as he had been every day for the past week. You had given up on lecturing him about righteousness; clearly he didn’t care. You just served him his food, and as usual, he asked you to sit down with him.

The scent of sweet violet, cedarwood, and a little cigarette smoke filled the air as you sat across from him, and you found it extremely pleasant.

“New cologne?’ you asked. You didn’t like that this was becoming routine for the two of you, but you engaged anyway.

“You noticed,” he said happily. “Yeah, it’s new. You like it?” You looked out the window, resting your chin on your hand as you attempted to ignore him.

“It’s nice.” you grumbled, and he smiled in satisfaction.

He was Jungwon’s complete opposite. He was demanding, flirty, and charming in an aggressive way. His voice was deep and smooth, unlike Jungwon’s soft lilt. He was sweet, but not kind. Jungwon was the kindest boy you had ever met.

He forked a bite of food for himself before chewing in satisfaction. “So, are you ready to answer?”

“Answer what?” you asked, bemused.

“I told you I wanted to hear something real about you.” you laughed, recalling your first conversation, and it seemed like an eternity ago.

“You go first.” you suggested, and to your surprise, he obliged.

“Well, that’s a tough question. I suppose something real about me is that I don’t believe in love.” You raised a brow incredulously.

“Why is that?”

“Not sure. I just never have.”

“Something must have happened to convince you love wasn’t real.” He considered telling you, but his brain resisted. He wasn’t ready to spill his guts to you. Sharing his secrets would mean opening himself up to be vulnerable, and Riki hated being vulnerable. You sensed his hesitation, saying; “You can tell me.”

And despite himself, he told you.

“My parents never really loved each other.” he said simply, and you frowned. “For as long as I can remember, they’ve been cold to each other. Sometimes they fight. Violently.” He sighed, and you felt pity welling up in your chest. “I guess I don’t believe in love because I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t think human beings are capable of loving each other forever.”

“I’m sorry, Riki.” you said, and he shook his head, looking away. “But you’re wrong.” His eyes drifted to yours, and he raised a brow. “Love exists. Deep down, everyone has love in their heart.”

“People spend their entire lives chasing for love, and they still don’t find it.”

“That’s because love is work. Everyone has the potential to find it one day. You just have to start looking.” Your words touched him. He had never considered that love was something he had to work for, not just a concept that was driven by fate.

“Agree to disagree.” he snorted, and you shrugged, taking a bite of his food.

“There’s love everywhere.”

Instead of running away at the end of your shift, this time you allowed him to walk you out. The two of you strode into the cold night, you shivering in your tee shirt.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you shook your head, covering your waist with your arms in an attempt to warm up. Wordlessly, he pulled off his jacket and hung it over your shoulders. You glared at him, but accepted it. From the pocket of his jeans, he removed a pack of red Marlboros, slipping a cigarette out of the packet. “Smoke?” he asked, and you shook your head. He propped the cigarette in between his lips.

“You’re a bit young to smoke, aren’t you?” you asked, and he chuckled.

“Every teenager has a bit of fun. Even if they’re not supposed to.” you smiled.

He was a total cliche. The leather jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, flirtatious rebel that flirted as easily as he breathed. And somehow, despite hating that overplayed trope, you found it endearing when it was him.

“Hey, Riki?” you said, and he hummed, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’m actually glad we became friends.”

“Friends?” he said, blowing smoke as his lips curled into a smile, leaning against the wall, a mere couple of feet away from you. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold, and he looked ethereal under the moonlight. “We’re not gonna be friends.”

You were about to respond when someone called your name.

Your eyes widened in fright as you turned to see Jungwon standed a few paces behind you, his breath visible in the fall climate. He looked upset, his pockets in his hands as his brows furrowed.

“Jungwon?” You quickly moved away from Riki. “What are you doing here?”

“My shift ended early, I thought I’d surprise you.” he was speaking to you, but his eyes weren’t on you; they were on Riki. He didn’t falter, taking another drag of his cigarette as he watched silently. “But I see you’re busy.”

“No, not at all.” you said nervously, taking Jungwon’s hand from inside of his pocket. “I just finished working. Let’s go home.” Jungwon didn’t respond, just turning around, your hand slipping out of his as he strode away from you.

“See you tomorrow.” Riki called after you when you didn’t bid him farewell, and you turned around to give him a glare, before dashing after your displeased boyfriend.

Riki was already making cracks in the foundation of your relationship. And that was exactly what he wanted.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You were wearing his jacket.

Jungwon was certain of it. After two years of living together, he knew your closet inside out; and he had never seen this jacket. The sleeves were too long for you, and they protruded just past your fingers. Jungwon could kill a man. Specifically, that man. After a moment of walking in agonizing silence, he spoke up.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” His cold tone chilled you to the core. You had never really seen Jungwon mad. Sure, you had your fair share of fights, every couple did, but they occurred strangely infrequently. “Who is that guy?”

“Just a classmate.”

“Why was he at your job?” You weren’t sure what degree of the truth you should tell him. You didn’t want him to think you were being unfaithful, that wasn’t it at all.

“He just likes the food, Jungwon.” That wasn’t technically a lie.

“I think he likes more than the food.” Jungwon was refusing to look at you. You had never seen him this put-out over something you did. You wondered if you had done something very wrong by being around Riki.

We’re not gonna be friends, you remembered his words. The smile on his face when he said them, how he sounded like he really meant it.

“Look, he’s just an underclassman. He’s new, just moved here. I’m pretty much his only friend.” Jungwon scoffed.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I feel bad for him.”

“He likes you.”

“But I don’t like him.” You stopped walking and tugged on Jungwon’s sleeve, and for the first time he looked you in the eyes. They were dull, a stark contrast to the usual youthful shine of his eyes. “Jungwon. I only care about you.”

“That can change.”

“No, it can’t.” You pressed a warm hand to his cheek, and you saw his gaze soften. “I’ve loved you faithfully for four years. That’s not going to stop now.” He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, removing your hand from his face. But he took your hand in his, which you took as a sign that everything would be okay. You looked into each other's eyes, cold air flushing your faces until it began to rain lightly.

“I’m not mad at you.” he said after a moment, his hair dampening from the rain, clinging to his forehead.

You brushed it away from his face and resumed your walk in silence.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You couldn’t be friends with Riki anymore.

You told this to Jungwon, who seemed more content than he had been in the past week. You, however, had a pit in your stomach.

You didn’t know why, but the thought that you would never see Riki again bothered you. His messy hair, proud smile, the scent of his smoky cologne. You weren’t certain why Riki had suddenly become important to you, but you knew it was wrong.

“So, your boyfriend told you you couldn’t see me anymore.” he said, holding his jacket in his hand. It still smelled like his cologne, and a bit like you, and he held it tightly between his fingers. He was frowning, and you realized this was the first time you had seen him without a smug expression on his face.

“No.” you replied. “I decided myself.” He sighed.

“That’s disappointing.”

“C’mon, Riki. You’re pursuing me. I have a boyfriend. It’s wrong.”

“That’s the great thing about life. It’s all about doing what feels right, even if it’s wrong.” he said elusively, and you frowned at him. “You should do what you want.”

“This is what I want.” You could smell his cologne everywhere, that stupid violet and cigarette smoke. It was distracting you from your thoughts.

“I don’t believe that.” You knew he was right, but his obstinance was pissing you off. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t care what you believe. It was nice being friends with you.” you readied yourself to leave, turning when he called after you.

“I told you,” he smiled for the first time during your conversation. “We were never going to be friends.”

It weighed heavy on your mind, but you had other things to worry about.

There was a party this weekend that you and Jungwon would be attending. Parties had never really been your thing, but a part of both of you missed the drunken fun of your time in high school, so when invited, you decided to go together.

It was being thrown by some boy in your year, a man named Jake who was infamous for his ragers, where people would fight to get in, and leave not remembering how they got there. Jungwon was friends with him, and assured you it’d be worth the while, which you hoped was true.

You pulled an old dress out of retirement, a lacy pink number that you hadn’t worn since Jungwon got it for your anniversary a year ago. There was something exciting about bringing it out of your closet, like a new start.

As you put on your earrings, facing the mirror, he circled your waist.

“You look beautiful.” he said, and you turned to kiss him, a chaste kiss that lingered on your lips. You looked back in the mirror, and you weren’t smiling.

Something about this situation felt extremely wrong, and you didn’t know why.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Despite the hectic environment of the party, you actually felt at peace for the first time in the past two weeks. The music was beating in your ribs like a pounding heart, and smoke furled through the air as college students went to-and-fro. Jungwon and you did shots in the kitchen, hands intertwining as you poured vodka down your throat, a burning sensation on your tongue. After a couple more, you were ready to dance.

Jungwon pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor by the hand, and the two of you swayed to the music together. You caught glimpses of faces you recognized, but in this moment, it was just you and him. Locking eyes, twirling and laughing as you erratically danced to the pounding beat of the music.

Eventually, Jungwon got dragged away by a friend of his named Jake, a classmate that he had grown quite close with. You were alone, but you didn’t mind.

You had never been the kind of person to be embarrassed to dance. You felt like yourself when you were dancing, and you didn’t care what company you had; you just enjoyed the feeling of being free underneath the spell of the music.

And then, the crowds shifted, and everything felt still.

There he was. Alone in the center of the floor, holding a bottle of beer in his hand, his free hand moving with the music as he danced rhythmically to the music. Girls tried to dance with him, but he deftly avoided them. The way he moved was entrancing; you had never seen him look so light and airy, as he swayed and rocked, not caring about the people around him. You should’ve known he would be there, you could smell his cologne from a mile away, and suddenly it flooded your senses.

He turned, and as he did, he caught sight of you. His mouth curled into a smile as he continued dancing, and you just watched.

“Come dance with me.” he said to you through the crowds, and though his voice was quiet, you swore it reverberated over the sound of the music. As if in a trance, you walked to him, weaving through hordes of people. Were you drunk, or was he more beautiful than usual?

“What are you doing here?” you asked the instant you reached him.

“Am I not allowed to be here?” he replied. He didn’t stop dancing as he spoke to you, and you felt odd standing still. But you couldn’t bring yourself to dance.

“They usually haze the freshmen.” He gestured to himself with a shrug.

“Well I’m fine, aren’t I?” You didn’t know what to say. A mere two days after swearing you wouldn’t speak to him again, you had already broken your promise to yourself, and you cursed yourself for it. “C’mon, you’re not having any fun. Dance.”

“I don’t want to dance with you.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” he said, but he paid no bother, continuing to dance on his own. You felt the eyes of the people around you as you spoke to him, some jealous, some curious, some judgemental. “Why do you care what people think?” You startled, wondering for a second if he was able to read your mind.

“I don’t.”

“If you didn’t, you’d be dancing with me right now.” He was right. That was the most frustrating thing about him; although he may be self-centered and smug, he was always right. Everything he said about you was as accurate as if he knew you for years.

So, to spite him, you danced.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had been watching you dance while he was talking to Jake. He liked Jake, he really did, but he found his attention drifting from his conversation to you, swaying carelessly to the beat with a smile on your face.

“Your girlfriend’s cute.” Jake said, gesturing to you with his cup, clearly able to tell that his companion was distracted.Jungwon sighed, pouring himself another hefty drink. He filled it to the brim with rum and orange juice. “Something wrong?”

“Yeah, well, she’s cute. That’s the problem.” Jungwon took a sip of his drink and wrinkled his nose at the harsh flavor. “Some guy from one of her classes has been all over her. Some younger dude.”

“The constant struggle of being someone’s boyfriend.” Jake said, clapping him on the back. Jungwon chuckled, taking another sip. “But try not to stress about it, man. You’ve been together for what, four years now?” Jungwon nodded in confirmation. “She’s only got her eyes on you. I wouldn’t worry.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Jungwon said, feeling a bit lighter, and a considerable amount woozier. He poured himself another drink despite himself, attempting to tune out the sound of the music. Suddenly, it was too loud, and everything was a little bit too much.

When he looked up, his heart had dropped to his stomach. You were no longer dancing, and it felt as if a spotlight was shining on the man in the center of the dance floor, his hair gloriously messy from the moving crowds, face red from dancing and alcohol. You were speaking, he could tell from the way your lips opened and closed.

Jungwon was seeing red. He felt as though the air was being choked out of him, and he struggled to take a deep breath to center himself. The alcohol felt like acid pumping through his veins as he stared at the two of you through the crowd, buzzing like a live wire. He was angry, but most of all, scared. If you had gone back so easily on your devotion, did that mean something? Did this man mean something to you?

“Jungwon?” Jake called his name but he barely heard it, crumpling his cup and throwing it into the trash as he stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.

Jungwon had been sitting outside on the stairs for nearly ten minutes, and he had managed to cool off.

He had never been so angry in his life. Jungwon wasn’t an angry person, he never had been. He had always been calm and collected, bottling up any rage or resentment he felt until it subsided. But that rage was brewing within him like an overflowing pot, and something about this man brought it out of him.

The smell of cigarette smoke flooded his senses, and he turned. Behind him was the last person he wanted to see, smoking a Marlboro, and Jungwon wondered how he didn’t hear him come outside. His face was still flushed from dancing, and his lips were tinged with the faintest trace of pink lipstick, smudged messily across his mouth.

Jungwon had stood up to go inside when Riki addressed him, saying;

“Hey.” Jungwon didn’t respond. “Looking for your girlfriend?”

“You really get under my skin.” Jungwon grumbled, and Riki smiled. He should handle this like a mature adult, he knew that. So he attempted to. “I would like it if you’d just leave me and y/n alone.”

“Come on, Jungwon. You know that’s not gonna happen.” He tossed the stub of his cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of his boot. Jungwon didn’t remember telling him his name at any point during their conversation.

“Why,” Jungwon started to speak, feeling like bile was rising in his throat. “Why, out of all girls, does it have to be my girlfriend?” Riki crossed his arms with a smile.

“Because I see her for what she is.” That tipped Jungwon over the edge. He could no longer have this conversation, he couldn’t handle it. He strode to the front door, pulling it open as he rushed into the crowds. “Oh, c’mon,” Riki’s voice haunted him as he followed him inside. “Let’s talk, man to man. I’ll pour you a drink.”

“Get away from me.” Jungwon poured himself another cup and chugged it. He was going to find you, and he was going to end this. He had to end it somehow.

“Let’s not be enemies. It’s just friendly competition.” Riki said.

“What does my girlfriend see in you?” The alcohol was speaking for him now, and he slammed his empty cup on the table. Riki gestured to the dance floor with a smile, and only then did Jungwon realize that the crowds were watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

You were watching Jungwon from the dance floor, and the crowds parted like the Red Sea. You were frozen in fear, shaking as you brought a hand up to your lip while Riki snickered. The sound of his laughter faded into the background as Jungwon noticed your smudged pink lipstick.

His fist was in connection with Riki’s face before he could even think about it.

He heard you scream in the background but paid no mind, the crowds chanting ‘fight!’ as the two men tussled. Riki was tall, but Jungwon was stronger. Riki’s mouth spurted blood as Jungwon landed a punch on his face with a sickening crack.

Jungwon’s hand found the counter somehow, and his hand latched onto the handle of a knife, unsheathing it without thinking. Only when he whipped it in Riki’s direction and the crowd gasped in unison did his head clear, and he dropped it, his opponent barely able to kick it away from him in his weakened state.

He wanted to kill him. For a moment, he was truly prepared to kill him, and he almost did.

Jungwon was so shocked with himself that the younger boy was able to pry himself away from his grip, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth.

“Psychopath.” he spat blood, grabbing his jacket from the floor where it had been pulled off, swinging it over his shoulder as he removed another cigarette. But as he walked out the door, he smiled, an ugly smile of sharp teeth and blood.

He had found it. That rotten part of your boyfriend, the reason he didn’t trust him in the first place. He had exposed it, and you had seen the side of him that you didn’t know existed.

He had a feeling that Jungwon didn’t even know that side of himself.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Everyone’s eyes were on Jungwon. You weren’t sure what to say as you stared wide-eyed at your boyfriend. You were terrified. The boy you were in love with had almost stabbed the life out of another person.

You attempted to rationalize it, desperately. You had just publicly cheated on him, and it must’ve been an uncharacteristic display of anger. You’d be angry too if you were him, maybe enough to kill. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Let’s go.” you managed to say to him, and he brushed himself off, his head low as he roughly pushed through the crowds of people to get to the exit.

Fresh air felt like salvation as he heaved in as much into his lungs as he could. His head was beginning to clear, the adrenaline and rum wearing off as he stood facing the nearly empty streets, hands in his pockets.

“Jungwon,” you began, but he shook his head, refusing to look you in the eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.” he said hollowly, and you bit your tongue, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “Don’t cry, y/n. I can’t take it.”

“It just happened.” you said in a weak defense, and he shook his head again.

You felt hesitant sitting in the front seat with him, but he made no moves to stop you, just reversing the car roughly and pulling out into the street.

It was a silent ride. The kind of silence that made you wonder if the two of you would ever speak again, and you were suddenly struck with the fear that four years may be over in one night. Because of one moment, because of one person.

“Are we gonna be okay?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. His eyes were firmly set on the road, refusing to look at you. He sighed, hands trembling on the wheel.

“I don’t know.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon hadn’t spoken to you for two days.

It was hard to avoid each other, considering you lived in the same apartment. But it was Sunday, and he hadn’t spoken a single word in your direction since you betrayed him two nights previous. And judging from how many times he’d ignored you despite pleas for his attention, he seemed to have no intention of stopping.

You didn’t know what to do, but you couldn’t stand the silence.

“Are you going to leave me?” you finally asked, choking down tears as you sat on the couch. Jungwon was in the kitchen, doing nothing but avoiding you.

“I don’t know.” Jungwon finally spoke, his voice a whisper. Tears began flowing freely from your eyes. “I really don’t know.”

“I know I can’t convince you of anything.” you surrendered, silent sobs escaping your mouth as you cried. “I won’t tell you to stay.”

“I love you, y/n.” Your heart warmed despite your sadness. “More than anything in this god forsaken world. I can’t bear being around you after what you did. But being without you sounds infinitely worse.”

“So what do we do?” He liked that you said ‘we’. It made him feel like you were a team despite what you had put him through. He set down the knife he was holding, his hands trembling as he looked at you. He could barely stand to see you cry.

“We wait.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

It turns out that Riki was the kind of person who fell deeply. He hadn’t been in love his entire life; he hadn’t even believed it existed until a few weeks ago. To him, love was a myth, as imaginary as unicorns or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. It was a concept, not a reality. But that’s the thing about not believing in love; when it hits you, it hits hard. And Riki’s mind was racing with radical thoughts, and mostly images of you.

He had called you twelve times since the party, and you hadn’t picked up once. You didn’t show up to class on Monday. Your boss claimed you called out of work sick when he went to visit the diner.

You were avoiding him. And in his mind, that was the worst possibility. But he wasn’t concerned; he would find you. He would always find you.

He just had to find out where you lived. And to do that he had to find you, which was seeming to be difficult. So he’d do the next best thing.

He would find your boyfriend.

It was difficult to find out anything about Jungwon from the internet. He didn’t seem to have a strong social media presence, but after a bit of searching, he found an account with a small following that seemed to match him. From there, he deduced that Jungwon worked at a tech company with a man named Jay, whose profile indicated that the name of it was Enhypen SK. A quick search told him that its headquarters were located downtown. Riki got into his car.

He rolled a crick out of his neck. He had been waiting outside of the building for hours, watching men and women come in and out, in and out. He sat in the front seat of his car, chair reclined as he observed with unrelenting eyes. Finally, there he was.

Brown hair flying in the wind, a cup of coffee in his shaking hand, the contents spilling over the edge as he walked across the street, holding his jacket above his head to cover himself from the rain. Riki could almost laugh at the perfect businessman cliche.

The building wasn’t on a particularly crowded street. There were no cameras monitoring the traffic, as few cars drove down the road. Riki realized with growing delight that there was nobody in sight but him. And Jungwon.

He was on the curb. Riki put his car into drive. The light turned red. Riki peeled out of his parking spot. Jungwon was in the center of the crosswalk.

Riki accelerated.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

You dropped the phone when the hospital told you your boyfriend had been run over by a car. You didn’t have time to think, abandoning the meal you were making, the stove still burning as you snatched your keys off the table and ran out the door without a second’s hesitation.

He thankfully wasn’t dead. They didn’t catch who did it, and Jungwon wouldn’t tell them, if he knew. He had a concussion. Two of his ribs were mildly fractured. He was bleeding internally, but it luckily wasn’t fatal. He had burns along his leg from hot fuel, and a facial laceration from rolling over the shattered windshield, a cut running from the edge of his eyebrow to the apple of his cheek.

The doctors were shocked he was even alive. The perpetrator had hit him at 45 mph, and he rolled over the entire car before hitting the ground. He laid unconscious in the street for 20 minutes, and had to crawl across the street to call for help, refusing to die. Considering his situation, he was lucky; he should’ve been dead.

According to the nurses, he had fought to leave the hospital immediately. He had jumped out of bed the minute he gained consciousness, which shouldn’t have been possible in his state. Only when they demanded he stay did he ask them to call you, and even then, he tried to leave constantly, surprisingly mobile and alert despite being presumed dead.

The staff thought he was a monster.

You ran into his arms the first chance you got, despite the protest from the nurse caring for him. You cried into his chest as he held you, stroking your hair.

“I was afraid you died.” you sobbed, and he shushed you soothingly.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, Jungwon. You don’t deserve this.” He had the feeling you were talking about more than just the car accident. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he said, staring at the wall as he held you more tightly. When you released him, you checked him for damage, holding his hand in yours.

Besides burns, bruises, and the cuts on his cheek, he seemed surprisingly fine. He was sitting upright, speaking clearly, seemingly fine. But he was staring blankly at you. You saw nothing in his eyes, not a shred of hope, relief, or fear. Nothing, just dull brown marbles in the sockets of his eyes before he turned away from you.

“Who did this?” you asked shakily, and he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t know.” he responded. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, maybe lying out of pride or embarrassment. But you weren’t going to ask, not when he was in this state. “You know, I realized something. When I got hit by that car.” You scooted closer to him, brushing the hair out of his face. It was matted with sweat to his forehead.

“What was it?” you asked gently when he didn’t continue.

“They were right. Your life does flash before your eyes when you almost die.” he said quietly. “And you know, all I saw was you. My entire life, in one blink of an eye. That’s when I realized,” He looked at you. “I can’t afford to lose you. Not to anything.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” you said, blinking away more tears.

“I know. I’m going to make sure of it.” You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. “I forgive you. For everything you did. I don’t care about any of it.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it. All that matters is that I have you.” His grip on your hand tightened, and you pursed your lips, pulling him into an embrace. He was cold as ice.

“I’m just happy I still have you with me.” you said hoarsely.

“I’m never going to let anything tear us apart. Never.”

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon knew exactly who hit him with that car.

He would recognize that face anywhere, even in a brief moment, in a mere second of terror before impact. A flash of those devilish eyes through the windshield. They were the eyes that haunted him, sleeping and waking. And he was determined to get revenge.

This man had changed him. He no longer recognized himself. He looked in the mirror and saw a man haunted by hatred, by anger, and by violence. In his many years of life, he had never despised someone enough to hurt them, and yet every part of him was itching to kill. This was a pest, one that Jungwon was sure to exterminate.

He wasn’t going to tell you anything, no, it would only stress you out. As a couple, you had been through enough recently, and he didn’t want anything else on your plate. You had enough to worry about, with him practically incapacitated.

You visited him every day in the hospital. You slept by his bedside, barely going to class or to your job, just holding his hand as nurses tended to him, doctors flitting in and out of his room. He only had three days left in the hospital until he was discharged.

But he couldn’t wait.

You were dead asleep on the chair beside his bed, your eyes shifting underneath their lids. The room was empty. He ripped the IV out of his arm, getting to his feet.

Under any other circumstances, he shouldn’t have been able to walk. But Jungwon felt stronger than he ever had as he walked through the halls barefoot, his hospital gown fluttering in the wind like a ghost. He walked out of the hospital doors unnoticed, the concrete scraping against his bare feet as he started the walk home.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon owned a gun. It was something he never shared with you; he knew you despised violence. But he was a paranoid person by nature and the idea of a home invader, serial killer, a stalker, frightened him enough to need protection, a Colt Mustang XSP stored securely under the bottom panel of his bedside table. He needed to protect you; it was his god given duty. Fate had brought you together, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.

He used whatever strength he had to remove the panel of wood, feeling around until his hand reached the hollow barrel of the gun.

Jungwon was a good shot. His father had taken him to a shooting range once a month from the ages of 10 to 18, god knows why. But he noticed something quickly about himself; he always hit the target.

One time, the supervisor at the range had told him he saw something dark in him. He had said Jungwon might not show it, but once in a while, when he was holding that gun, he could see it in his eyes. It wasn’t a good feeling, to hear that as a 16 year old. But now, he was beginning to consider the possibility.

Besides what you had told him, he knew virtually nothing about Riki. He didn’t know his dreams, his accomplishments, his past, not even his age. This didn’t bother Jungwon, in fact, it made him more relieved than anything. The less he knew, the better. It would make it all easier.

And now it was time to visit the little pest.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki was disappointed. In you, for ignoring him. In himself, for not finishing the job. And mostly in Jungwon, for refusing to die. He hit him at 45 miles per hour, that should’ve killed him. When he visited the hospital under the guise that he was his cousin, they told him he was bleeding internally, that it might be fatal. And yet, he was alive. He knew it for a fact; Riki waited outside the hospital until you showed up. And you didn’t leave, you never left. Which meant Jungwon was still in there.

It seemed like Jungwon would need something more fatal, which was upsetting. It was the perfect set up; the street was empty, there were no cameras, no witnesses. Jungwon wouldn’t live to tell the tale. Riki prayed that Jungwon didn’t recognize him, if he did, he’d surely tell you. Then he’d really lose you for good.

He was parked outside the hospital for the third day in a row, just waiting to catch you alone. He hoped your boyfriend was in a coma, maybe unable to speak, maybe mentally damaged. He rolled his shoulders, tense with worry and from sitting in the leather seat for so long. The hood of his old silver car was bent from the impact of Jungwon’s body slamming against it, and his license plate was barely hanging on for dear life. He didn’t pay attention to it.

The only thing he cared about was ending him for good.

On the other side of the city, Jungwon had just walked into the housing office of his university. The door creaked as he forced it open, his shoes clicking on the tile floor. He knew a man who worked in the office, a friend of his who played secretary at the front desk. That was the nice thing about being a good person; you make connections everywhere you go.

“Sunghoon.” Jungwon said, and his voice was hollow. The man looked up from his keyboard, pushing his glasses up his forehead with a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I need a favor.” Sunghoon was immediately concerned with Jungwon’s appearance. He had changed from his gown into normal clothes, but the open cut on his face and the bags under his eyes told the story of what had happened to him. Bruises were littered across his right cheek, and a part of his hair was singed, just below the ear, barely noticeable. He stumbled on his left leg when he walked and he held his ribs tightly with one of his hands.

“Are you okay?” Sunghoon asked with concern.

“I got hit by a car.” he said, and Sunghoon frowned.

“Jesus.” “I need an address.” Sunghoon gestured for him to continue. He knew he wasn’t supposed to give away information like this, but Jungwon was trustworthy. Throughout their friendship, he had shown he was a kind man. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. “Freshman named Riki Nishimura.” Sunghoon’s fingers flew across his keyboard.

“Edge of town. Building code is 3405, apartment 2.” Sunghoon recited off the screen, his glasses back on his nose as he read.

“Thanks.” Jungwon said, turning on his heel.

“Don’t you want me to write it down for you?” Sunghoon called after him, and he waved him off, swinging the door open.

“I’ll remember it.”

And he did. Twenty minutes later, he was parked outside.

It was the kind of apartment that had separate units and entrances. The other three apartments seemed completely empty, and the neighborhood seemed practically deserted, if you could even call it a neighborhood. There were two houses down the road, one of which was boarded up, the other was for sale. Then a dead end, the street abruptly stopping in brick and barbed wire. It was good for Jungwon’s situation. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to hear what he was about to do.

He got out of his car, hand deep in the recesses of his jacket. He rapped on the door, once, twice, thrice. Then he removed the gun from the waistline of his pants, cocking it in a fluid motion and shooting off the lock.

Metal scraps exploded across the steps of the apartment, and the doorknob hung loosely from its socket, the metal lock missing a keyhole, replaced with a burning hot cavity. Jungwon turned the doorknob, and the door swung open easily.

“House call,” he said, his voice echoing around the empty apartment. “Anyone home?” He peeked his head into the kitchen, the living room. Nobody. His free hand fingered the case of bullets in his jacket pocket. He brought the gun for intimidation only; he didn’t think Riki would be stupid enough to make him use it. But he had 17 rounds left in the magazine of his pistol, and he was planning to spend them all if necessary.

It didn’t seem like Riki was home. Jungwon cracked his neck, irritated. He had run out of the hospital on injured legs and a fractured rib, just to be disappointed. He wondered where Riki could possibly be, and hoped he wasn’t anywhere near you.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, keeping his gun by his side. He had 27 missed calls and 45 missed texts, and they were all from you. He tucked it away, trying to push the thought of you out of his head.

He was doing this for you. You’d understand that.

While he was there, he figured he might as well look around. After all, Riki didn’t seem to be home, and he had gone through the effort of blowing off his locks. He creeped up the stairs cautiously, careful to keep his gun ahead of him before he took a step. On the right, there was a bathroom, grimy in the way expected of a teenage boy. On the left was Riki’s room. His closet was the largest thing in the room, stacked to the brim with clothing. It seemed like Riki preferred designer brands over an expensive apartment, and Jungwon pocketed a silver watch sitting on his bedside table.

There was only one more room at the end of the hall. Its door stood slightly ajar, and he could see beams of sun hitting the chestnut floor through the slit. Jungwon walked cautiously towards it, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he pushed the door open.

His eyes widened, pupils dilated. He instinctively took a step back, his gun clattering to the floor as his gaze flitted from the ceiling to the floor, wall to wall. He recoiled from the room, as if it would infect him, shivering with fear. He hadn’t seen anything like this. Not from anyone.

Jungwon’s own eyes watched him from every corner of the room. Photos of himself lined the walls, sporadically pasted against the blue wallpaper. Some were photos he had taken of himself, some that you had taken, accessible through his socials. But the vast majority were photos he had never seen, taken from afar of him at the grocery store inspecting a peach, chatting with a classmate in class, working at his job, his face lit up by his computer on the second floor.

And in the center of the room was you. Your face was painted on a canvas, big enough to almost reach Jungwon’s height, painted intricately with the hand of someone who truly loved their subject. It was as if you were alive and breathing before him, and for a minute, he admired you despite himself. Scrawled at the bottom of the canvas were a mere five words;

I have to save her.

Jungwon was horrified. He felt sick to his stomach with the sudden urge to vomit, and he attempted to control himself, breathing shallowly as he bent to pick up his gun. He aimed it shakily, and it was the first time he trembled while holding a pistol in his hands. He fired ten rounds, each scarring the wall as they tore through the canvas.

Your face was a mess of torn paper and sizzling paint when he was done, and it pained him to see. Jungwon grit his teeth, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants as he turned around to exit this god forsaken house.

Now Riki really had to die.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Riki arrived home, and the first thing he noticed was the ten bullets sitting underneath the window of his painting room. If he had walked past just a bit faster, if he wasn’t looking at the ground, he would’ve missed them. But he didn’t, and he bent down to pick them up, the casings barely still warm. When he looked up, there were ten matching holes in the wall. He was immediately on high alert.

When he removed his keys from his pocket, he quickly realized he didn’t need them. Shards of protruding metal, burnt black at the edges, became what once was the lock to his door. The wooden door was ajar, and he opened it as quietly as possible.

He slipped off his shoes at the door, his footsteps silent as he walked through his home. His living room and kitchen looked completely untouched. His nerves burning with fear, Riki reached for a knife, his trembling hands gripping the handle as the metal glinted in whatever dim daylight remained as the sun began to fall below the horizon.

The stairs moaned under his feet as he walked towards the room at the end of the hallway. It didn’t look like anyone had even entered his home; everything was the way he left it. But when he opened the door to that room, he felt like he could cry.

Ten bullet holes. Ten scarred, singed cavities in your gaping face, the canvas torn and burned until you were completely unrecognizable.

His art. The only thing he had been living for. It was destroyed, and he knew exactly who to blame. Tears ran down his face as he approached it, the knife forgotten in his hand while he caressed the mutilated canvas.

I have to save her. Those scrawled words remained untouched at the bottom of his creation, and he ran his hand over them. They rang true.

If Jungwon did this, and Riki knew he did, then he was dangerous. And that meant he had to save you before you ended up like the shredded painting he had so devoutly adored.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

Jungwon had fled the hospital without warning at 5:32 pm. It was 9:00 pm, and you hadn’t heard a word from your boyfriend

You were worried sick. He was hurt, too hurt to be wandering the streets, getting into fights, doing whatever he was doing. You checked his work, but they hadn’t caught sight of him since he left, on the day he was almost killed. None of his teachers had heard from him, nor had his friends. You must’ve called him a hundred times, and not once did he pick up. So, despite yourself, you did the only thing you could think of.

It’s not like you couldn’t guess who’d hit your boyfriend with their car. Jungwon’s unwillingness to tell you about the accident was an immediate red flag, not to mention his sudden switch in attitude. His workplace was in an isolated, corporate area where not many people drove, and it seemed too convenient to be an accident. Not many people had a vendetta against Jungwon, he was too kind to have enemies; except one.

He picked up on one ring, and the other side of the phone was quiet except for the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Riki,” you said, attempting to stabilize your trembling voice. “Let’s meet.”

Riki didn’t ask any questions. He agreed without hesitation, and a part of you almost felt bad. After all, what if he didn’t hit him? What if you were wrong?

But you couldn’t afford to doubt yourself, and you tucked a canister of pepper spray into your pocket before grabbing your keys and running downstairs. In case Jungwon was in trouble, you didn’t have any time to waste.

You were so distracted, you had even forgotten it was Halloween.

You had asked Riki to meet you across town. You knew there was a large construction lot a couple miles behind your school, where nobody ever visited, rarely even the construction workers, especially not at this hour. You needed to get him in a place where nobody would hear you. If he was willing to admit anything that had happened between him and Jungwon, he wouldn’t do it in front of an audience.

You could feel his presence before you saw him. When you heard his slow footsteps through the soft, unpaved ground, it felt like the world had gone black. Something in him had changed. You used to feel joy and love at the sound of his voice and the scent of his cologne, but now it made you uneasy.

“Y/n?” he said, and you saw the dark silhouette morph into his fine features and unkempt hair as he stepped closer. He stopped a few paces away from you, and you attempted to smile.

Before you knew it, he had pulled you into his arms, and you were swimming in his leather jacket, his grip almost painful. The scent of violets and cigarettes drowned you. You felt like you could throw up.

“I’ve been so worried about you.” his voice trembled as he spoke, and you gradually wrapped your arms around him. “Where have you been?”

“The hospital.” you said, your voice a whisper. He released you, and the confused look in his eyes was almost enough to convince you he was innocent. “Jungwon…he got hit by a car.”

“Is he alright?”

“No. But we’ll be okay.” Riki didn’t like that you said ‘we’. It seemed you didn’t care if your boyfriend had almost killed him. It was like he didn’t matter to you.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” he asked in hushed tones.

“I didn’t know what to think.” You wiped away a tear, not even knowing you were crying. “After what happened that weekend-”

“He almost killed me.”

“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” There was hurt in his eyes, and you didn’t recognize him. The smug, arrogant boy you had known was nowhere to be seen.

“How can you say that?” You shook your head, wiping away more tears. “I don��t care about him, y/n. We have something special.”

“Riki, I can’t.”

“Don’t I matter to you?” he implored, reaching for your hand, holding it tightly like he might not get the chance ever again. He wouldn’t.

“Of course you do. But Riki, I don’t love you.”

“That’s a lie!” he shouted, and the sudden switch in volume made you shudder in fear. “You do love me. You’re just afraid.”

“Of what, Riki? Of you? I’m not scared, I’m an adult, I know what I want. You’re just a confused boy who thinks he’s in love with a girl he can’t have.”

“That’s not true.” he said it so willfully, you almost believed him. “You don’t understand, you just don’t understand. Since I met you, you’re all I can think about. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you. I even-” He cut himself off. He froze, and the only sound was the cold wind as you two stared at each other.

“Even?” you whispered, and he set his jaw.

“I even tried to kill him.”

You felt like your world was crashing down around you. You had imagined a million possibilities in your relationship with Riki. You had imagined kicking him to the curb, indulging in his affections until he got bored, you even imagined leaving Jungwon for him. But in none of your fantasies had you believed him capable of murder.

Your eyes widened in terror, lips trembling, and he could sense your fear.

“Don’t be scared.” he said, coming closer, and you took a step back. “I’m not a killer, y/n. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But you tried to.” you said, and his eyes darkened. “You tried to kill my boyfriend. You’re not in love with me, Riki, someone who loved me wouldn’t try to do that. That’s not love, it’s obsession.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You don’t know what you’re doing.” You grew closer to him, placing a warm hand against his cheek. “You have a life outside me. We’re young. Don’t waste your time chasing me and hurting people.”

“Don’t say that,” he repeated, his eyes red with suppressed tears. “I would do anything for you. I love you, I’ve never felt that way about anyone.” You attempted to pay attention to what he was saying, but a twig cracked in the background, drowned out by the sound of his words, but you were listening. You looked over his shoulder. “I can’t be away from you, y/n, I can’t take it.”

“Riki, I can’t be with you. Not now, not ever.”

“Is it because of Jungwon?” he asked, and you shook your head. “I don’t care who’s in my way. I’ll take care of it.”

A ghostly face appeared in the distance, just barely lit enough for you to recognize him. That scar on his face, those bright doe eyes turned dull, you knew that face anywhere. Riki continued to speak, and Jungwon put a silent finger over his mouth.

Something about this situation was wrong. You had this overwhelming sense of terror, and it had its claws around your lungs, draining you of all the breath and blood in your body. Every nerve and cell in your body was screaming, writhing restlessly in white hot pain. Jungwon stepped closer, and your shoulders shook fearfully.

“Riki. I don’t want you to hurt him.” you said, and Riki grabbed your face, his cold fingers gently gripping your chin.

“I don’t care.” he said, and his words cut you like a knife. “I’ll do whatever it takes. You belong with me.”

There was a barrel of a gun, and you felt a strangled scream rising in your throat when you saw that Jungwon was holding it. And the edge of it was directly pointed at the back of Riki’s head.

You tried to scream, you tried to warn him, but there was no time. You dropped to your knees as the blast rang through the empty air, a flash of white and red lighting up the air like fireworks as you covered your ears. An explosion of blood wet the ground, painted strokes of crimson hitting your face and shoes. A silent scream escaped your mouth as Riki’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor inches from where you sat, as terribly beautiful as ever, his wide and fear-stricken eyes immortalized as he stared at you. The last thing he loved before he died.

It was funny, seeing a human die. You thought that you would cry, wail, kick and scream as you brutally mourned the life of someone you had loved. A life that ended in an instant, as easy as pulling a trigger. But you didn’t cry. You just sat there, helpless and silent, waves of grief, dread, anger, every emotion running through you as your eyes and mouth went dry with fear.

Jungwon was a new man. He stood above you, not even looking at the man he had just killed, only looking at you. His eyes seemed black in the night, unforgiving and unapologetic as he gripped the gun in his hand, the barrel covered in blood.

Pools of crimson blood soaked into the soft ground as Riki laid unmoving, the contents of his head spilled across the dirt. His mouth was open in a silent plea, one that nobody would hear, not even God.

Jungwon kneeled in front of you, and a single tear ran down his face as he desperately searched your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Oh, God.” you said, your voice hollow and unrecognizable.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and for the first time in months, he sounded fully alive. His voice regained its fullness, no longer slouching and frowning, radiating the power he had lost. “I had to do it. You know I had to.” His hands were covered in blood. There were splatters across his face, and you couldn’t distinguish between the blood running from his own cuts and the blood of the man he had just killed. You felt an overwhelming urge to vomit, and you gagged as you tried to hold it back.

“Jungwon,” you said, voice breaking midway through as you began to cry salty tears. “God, Jungwon, oh my God.”

You had no fight left in you. You felt like a hollow shell as you sat there on the floor, the man whom you loved soaked in the blood of someone you had called a friend. Maybe more than that. You wished you could disappear, that everything would go away, that this would have never happened.

“I’m sorry.” he said, and he pulled you into an embrace.

Despite feeling repulsed by his touch, you craved his skin and his love, so you let him hold you in his blood stained clothes, you let his soiled hands stroke your hair until it was wet with blood.

“I told you,” he said, quietly. “I would never let anything tear us apart.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond, just sobbing until you couldn’t anymore, until the life and tears were drained out of you, until your heart felt like it would stop. Jungwon held you, his own heart beating as fast as lightning, the breath of life rushing through him. Riki didn’t move an inch, didn’t come back to life no matter how hard you cried. And Jungwon was delighted.

Maybe there was something dark in Jungwon. Or maybe he was sane, in a world where you have to do unspeakable things to protect what you love.

And as he held you, sobbing in the night air, your tears mingling with the blood on your face, he began to realize he was just a man. A sick man.

Just as bad as the rest of them.

𖣂 𖣂 𖣂

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