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quack-quack-snacks · 11 months ago

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Floating Above Those Dark Skies

My Navigation and Masterlist

My Sweet Home Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

Pairing(s): Cha Hyun-su x Fem!Reader Summary: Living with the love of your life and the girl you love like a daughter is perfect. Except for all the bad parts. Warnings: Season 2 spoilers! Follows the dialogue of the episodes relatively strictly (I know some people like that but some people don't so it's a warning), Reader being like a second mother to Ah-yi, Hyun-su being a great big brother/father figure, slight talk of previous suicide attempts (The National Suicide and Crisis Hotline is 988. There are so many people who care about you and would love to help you. You are not alone), injuries, underage drinking (but they're in the apocalypse so who cares), canonical death, hurt with comfort, the appearance of (soft and kinda ooc) monster!Hyun-su, no use of (y/n), reader has the nickname "Lucky". Word Count: 17,132 (wow, what a doozy)

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Hyun-su led the way as you all walked to his home. Halfway there, Ah-yi complained about her feet hurting and it was then you noticed she had been barefoot this entire time.��

‘We definitely need to fix that,’ you thought.

Before Hyun-su could even open his mouth, you crouched down and extended your hands out to her. She rushed forward to jump into your arms with a tired smile. When you straightened back up, she rested her head against your shoulder and was out like a light within a few minutes.

“She seems to like you a lot,” Hyun-su whispered fondly as a gentle smile laid itself on his lips. After making sure she was secure in your arms, you smiled back at him and dropped one hand from holding her to hold his hand.

“I guess I’m just a toddler whisperer. I think she likes me better than you,” you joked and he let out a scoff while squeezing your hand.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” he told you in an offended tone you could tell was fake by the smile threatening to break his facade.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence as you walked, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind since you saw him again with the girl in your arms. “So… who is she?”

He let out a heavy sigh before pushing a tree branch out of the way for you to walk through since your hands were full.

Always the gentleman.

“She’s Seo Yi-kyung’s baby.”

You let out a quiet gasp. “What? But she hadn’t even been pregnant for half a year? And this is at least a 4-year-old child!” You whisper shouted at him, completely shocked by the information.

“I don’t fully understand it either, but I do know she’s hers,” he assured you and you let out a sigh, your eyes wide as you tried to process the information.

“So, is she a monster-human mix as well? Is she like you?” You asked. You hadn’t noticed the way Hyun-su snapped his head towards you because you were too focused on the girl in your arm, letting out small breaths that tickled your neck. The way you said the sentence was so unlike anything he had heard before - especially relating to talking about monsters and neohumans. You sounded so soft, not an ounce of judgment or resentment in your voice. You sounded like no matter what the answer was you wouldn’t treat her any differently. You would adore her just as much as you were in that moment with your face buried in her hair as she let out quiet snores in her sleep. He gave a soft smile at the thought.

“I think so. She's grown so much since I first met her. Her actual age is around 5 or 6 months.”

“Wow,” you breathed and he couldn’t help but marvel at the way your voice embodied adoration and your smile was so bright it set the sky on fire despite the sun falling over the horizon. “That’s… wow.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. At some point, Hyun-su’s hand moved from holding yours to circling your waist as you hugged Ah-yi to your chest protectively. Eventually, the three of you arrived at a dock where a large boat was parked.

You weren’t all too surprised to find he had lived on a boat for the past half-year but you couldn’t help the small part that didn’t believe him when he told you.

He hopped up onto the boat first before helping you, careful not to wake Ah-yi. After the two of you were safely atop the boat, he led you to the captain’s quarters and helped you lay the girl in your arms down onto the nest of blankets and sweaters assembled to make a bed. Her dress had dried surprisingly quickly on the way to the boat, the only thing left to be damp was her hair.

You weren’t so lucky.

Your clothes stuck to your skin uncomfortably but you refused to complain, giving a - hopefully convincing - smile to Hyun-su when he saw you detach your shirt from your chest with a grimace. He walked away for a few moments and you sat down at the entrance to the captain’s quarters, resting your head against the door frame until his soft footsteps brought your attention back to him. He stood in front of you with a pair of folded clothes in his hands.

“I have these if you want to change into some fresh clothes. I don’t have any towels but this might help.”

The hesitant and shy look on his face made a smile break out on your own. You gave him a nod and took the clothes from his hands. You didn’t comment on how they were exactly your size but it made your heart flutter.

“Thank you,” you told him genuinely.

He nodded back at you before pointing to a door inside the quarters. “In there is a bathroom for whenever you want to change. I’ll wait for you out here.”

You nodded and turned before the smitten smile overcame your face stupidly at the thought. He just said he would wait for you and you could feel your heartbeat quickening alarmingly while heat rose to your cheeks. You walked into the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. It was kind of scary. You hadn’t seen your reflection in a few months, never venturing into any areas with cars and rarely going near water. All the mirrors in the women's locker room back at the stadium had been broken after a monster outbreak and the monster breaking all of them because she was ‘too ugly.’

You honestly almost forgot what you looked like, but you were beautiful. You had always thought of yourself as a relatively attractive person but never the kind that would make someone turn their head. Now, you found yourself unable to look away. Your skin was glowing, whether that be from the sweat collecting from the walk or the water, you didn’t know. Any blood that had collected on you over the past few weeks had been rinsed off in the lake and you relished in the feeling of being clean of it for once, despite how the stickiness of the wet clothes you were still wearing still made you feel a bit dirty.

Snapping out of your amazement, you quickly took your old clothes off, replacing them with the ones Hyun-su had given you. It was a simple pair of dark gray sweatpants and a maroon short-sleeved shirt. You took off your unbearably uncomfortable socks and replaced them with the soft wool socks he provided as well. Now dry, you exited the bathroom to see Hyun-su had stuck to his word and was waiting for you as he leaned against the door frame of the room, though this time in a different, dryer outfit.

“Hey,” you said softly to get his attention. He looked over at you and smiled when he saw you all dressed and dryer than before.

“Hey,” he whispered back. He held his hands out for you to give him your wet clothes and you did reluctantly. He walked over to the edge of the boat and laid them over the edge so they could dry before returning to you. “Well, you should get some sleep.”

As if his words were magic, you suddenly felt the events of the day hit you like a truck and you yawned, nodding your agreement. “I think that’s a good idea.”

You gave a quick look around the room before deciding to sleep next to Ah-yi with your head using a part of her ‘bed’ as a pillow.

Hyun-su winced as he saw you settle against the hard floor of the boat and walked forward without thinking. He gently grabbed your shoulders, lifting you and then settling you against his chest while you sat in between his legs.

You blushed but said nothing as you settled with your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat echoing against your ear and calming your nerves.

“Sleep,” he told you and tightened his grip around you. “I’ll keep watch.”

Your tongue felt heavy with sleep as you spoke your next words with a slight slur. “But what about you?”

He let out a soft laugh as he heard your breathing even out almost immediately after your sentence ended. He let his head rest against the wall behind him as he kept his gaze on the door.

“I’ll be okay,” he whispered as he briefly looked down at your peaceful sleeping face. “As long as you’re here with me…”

“Lucky.”

~A Week Into The Apocalypse, In Green Home~

It had been a week since the apocalypse started, and you had barely seen Hyun-su. The way the other residents and survivors treated him caused you to be so angry. You were thankful that at least one person - Eun-yu - didn’t treat him like a monster.

She wasn’t much different though, considering she still avoided him most of the time.

It was after the reappearance of Yi-kyung and the failed mission to retrieve medicine for Ji-su and her surgery that you got the chance to talk to him for more than just a quick goodbye or hello.

“All alone?” You asked him as you approached the staircase. The candle in your hands burned a bright yellow and smelled of cinnamon sugar. His head looked up at where you were approaching and nodded as you settled yourself on the stairs with him. Although he appreciated you trying to give him space and sitting a short distance away, he couldn’t help but wish you were closer. You smiled at him and smoothed your hands along your pants when you were seated.

“Are you scared?”

The question through you off guard. Giving a quick look around the room, you didn’t see anything that you would consider to be a threat so you weren’t really sure what he was talking about.

“Of what?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion at the boy.

He mirrored your head tilt with a confused look of his own. Inwardly you laughed at how the two of you must look like confused dogs when their owners told them a command they didn’t understand.

“Of… me?” He questioned again and a small laugh left you when you finally realized.

“Oh, Hyun-su,” you reached over to gently grab his hand as you looked him deeply in the eyes. “I promise you I could never be scared of you.”

He looked down with a small smile at that and you could see the small hints of red on his ears and cheeks.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” you started and gently released his hand. He immediately felt cold at the lack of your added warmth. “I never tried because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me, but is there a reason why you never came by? Even after you were given a choice to leave the quarantining room?”

He paused as he thought for a moment. “I thought you didn’t want to see me. You were the only person not put on guard duty so I figured it was because you asked not to.”

You let out a sad sigh. “Shit, I’m sorry. I promise that’s not what happened.”

He looked up at you with sad, confused little puppy eyes. “It’s not?”

You shook your head. “The first, and only, time I was put on guard duty, I tried breaking the lock on the door,” you told him and looked away sheepishly.

“Really?” He asked after a moment of stunned silence.

You nodded in assurance. “After that, Eun-hyuk tried to do whatever he could to keep me as far away from you as possible. I was hoping that would change since you got out but now I know why it didn’t,” you smiled at him sweetly and he felt the heat rise to his cheeks so he looked away. “You know,” you continued. “I always saw you stop by my door right before you would leave, but you never said anything. Was that also because you thought I didn’t want to talk to you?”

“Partially. It was mainly so I could just see you before I left. Every time I thought I was going to die I thought about returning so I could at least try to fix whatever was happening,” he told you. Now he was the one who looked sheepish as he scratched the back of his neck. “I always backed out at the last minute though.”

You smiled and scooted closer to him on the stairs, moving down so you were on the same level and making it so only half a foot of space separated you. “I guess I was like your lucky charm then, wasn’t I?” You teased and lightly bumped your shoulder against his.

“Yeah, I guess you were.”

~Back To The Present~

It had been about a month since you reunited with Hyun-su. You’d grown closer to Ah-yi in no time. She looked up to you and it seemed she just needed another girl in her life to have around. Your favorite part about growing closer to her was she had upgraded your honorific from ‘Miss’ to ‘Unni’ which made your heart clench adoringly every time.

The first time Hyun-su decided to make a trip into the city to collect some supplies, he was so hesitant to leave the two of you alone. You promised you would protect Ah-yi and yourself with whatever it takes; that seemed to be enough for him to be comfortable enough to leave. He never lost his hesitancy to leave the two of you alone despite each time he came back the two of you would be fine.

The most recent time was no different. You sat on top of a large, red, metal shipping container with Ah-yi as the two of you drew using the chalk you were fortunate enough to find a few days ago.

“That looks beautiful, Ah-yi! You are such a good artist,” you praised her on her drawing and she visibly beamed. It was a simple drawing of some flowers and her, you, and Hyun-su. It was clear it was made by a child but it was so beautiful in your eyes.

“Thank you, Unni!” You ruffled her hair which she squealed at until you noticed Hyun-su walking towards the two of you with a smile on his face and a hand hiding behind his back while the other supported a red bag over his shoulder. “Oppa!” Ah-yi exclaimed and you smiled at her excitement.

He rounded the corner of the large container and brought the hand hiding behind his back out to place a pair of pink shoes on the top. Ah-yi gasped while you had a big smile on your face.

“Come on!” You urged her and she sat on the edge of the box so Hyun-su could slip the shoes onto her feet with the cutest smile ever on his face. Once the shoes were on, he held his hands out for her and she eagerly jumped down, having full faith that he wouldn’t drop her. Once he set her down, he reached his hands out for you to take and you gave him a funny look.

“What’s wrong, Lucky?” He voiced his thoughts with a confused tilt of his head. You rolled your eyes at him while smiling. Your heart fluttered at the nickname. He’d started calling you it more often since the two of you reunited and yet it still gave you butterflies.

“I’m okay, I can get down by myself,” you reassured him and turned around while you slowly lowered yourself from the canister, your front facing the metal.

You heard Hyun-su softly breathe out a laugh from behind you before a hand grabbed onto the back of your shirt and pulled. You let out a yelp as you felt yourself falling only to land bridal style in Hyun-su’s arms. You clicked your tongue in faux annoyance and crossed your arms while he tried to hide the smug smile on his lips.

“Going full ‘knight in shining armor’ mode, are we now?” You teased him and he blushed, pointedly avoiding your gaze. Suddenly, your stomach dipped as you felt him pretend to drop you and your arms wrapped themselves around his neck while he looked at you with another self-satisfied smirk.

“Well, it looks like my ‘princess’ needs her ‘knight in shining armor,’” he said softly as he looked away from you and you slapped his chest. He kneeled down when Ah-yi ran up to him. Knowing exactly what he was offering, she used one of his extended hands along with yours to help prop herself onto his shoulders. Hyun-su regained his grip on you as he grabbed the red bag he had set down and stood back up to his full height before starting the walk in the direction of the boat. You rolled your eyes, knowing any protests about him carrying you would be brushed off. Instead, you just snatched the red bag from his hand, placing it on your lap and holding it tightly to your body as you gave him a challenging glare. He just rolled his eyes with a fond smile and continued walking.

The three of you made small talk as he carried you. Ah-yi explained what you and her had done while Hyun-su was venturing off and you chimed in every now and then with a comment. Hyun-su explained how he saw a peculiar monster today.

“It was like a mermaid with wings.”

Then, you both went on to explain what a mermaid was to the child.

When you arrived at the boat, Hyun-su set the both of you down and Ah-yi started pulling you to the edge of the boat. You laughed as you walked up to the contraption. It was during your first week that you made the efficient self-fishing machine. It was a relatively simple mechanism that was made of a bunch of fishing poles and a homemade weight sensor. Whenever one of the poles was tugged on by something in the water, the device yanked it up and whatever was attached to the hook was left dangling in the air. 7 times out of 10, the hook was caught on litter in the ocean or a monster that was able to detach itself but there were the 3 times where you would catch a fish or two and the three of you would share it for dinner.

It became a bit of a game for Ah-yi and yourself, guessing if the day would end with a fresh meal or a degrading empty can with barnacles growing on the side.

As Hyun-su smiled at the two of you, he walked over to the stairs leading to the roof of the captain’s quarters and sat on the top, watching the sunset. No matter how many times you invited him to join the two of you, he always refused. It was nice you had a special activity to bond with Ah-yi over and he used that as his excuse every time.

It wasn’t even 10 minutes later as you were skinning the rare fish you’d caught with Ah-yi watching attentively as you explained the different anatomy parts to her that Hyun-su noticed a familiar face climbing the steps of the boat. He climbed down and started walking over to her while the two of you stayed distracted. You only looked over and noticed the two when you heard their footsteps. You carefully set down the knife and fish, wiping your hands on a stray towel beside you, and stood up to walk over beside Hyun-su. Ah-yi followed up behind you, grabbing onto the back of your shirt shyly.

“I came too late, didn’t I?” Yi-kyung asked from in front of you as she looked at the girl shyly standing behind you. You decided not to answer considering you still weren’t sure how you felt about the whole situation of her leaving her child. Instead, Hyun-su answered her question.

“Not at all. You’re here now, right?”

She looked down and you could see the guilt and regret on her face. Slowly, you turned around to face Ah-yi. “That’s your mommy,” you told her and she looked at her hands shyly. “Why don’t you say hi.”

You lightly pushed her in the direction of Yi-kyung and the woman kneeled so she was face to face with her.

“Hi there,” you heard her whisper to the girl while you stood up to your full height. You wrapped your arms around Hyun-su’s waist and leaned into him while you watched them interact. Yi-kyung brought her into a hug and you smiled at the relief that settled on her face.

Over the next few months, you and Hyun-su traveled through the city together, occasionally going back to visit Yi-kyung and Ah-yi but mainly wanting to give them the privacy a mother and daughter should have. It was adorable to come back and see the markings on the wall increase where Yi-kyung marked her daughter’s growth every day. Everything seemed to be going perfectly for the family of two.

Up until that day.

You had an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach for the entire day, feeling as if something bad was going to happen and you needed to get back to the two girls on the boat. When you shared your feelings with Hyun-su, he didn’t question it for a second, immediately going with you to rush back.

When you arrived at the boat, you found a teenage girl covered in blood wearing the same dress as the little girl you’d grown to love while sitting on the bed blankets and jackets. You walked slowly towards her and she snapped her head up when she saw your feet enter her vision from where she had her head hung low. You kneeled in front of her, tentatively reaching a hand out to hold her cheek and she leaned into it.

Just like Ah-yi always did.

You let out a shaky breath as you finally voiced the question.

“Ah-yi?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with fear.

Fear of resentment.

Fear of abandonment.

Fear of your fear.

You just let out a sigh, whether it was from relief or surprise, you didn’t know. What you did know was that this was your Ah-yi and you would love her no matter what form she would take. You wrapped your arms around her and brought her in for a hug which she returned immediately. Relief coursed through her body so evidently that you could practically hear it.

“It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” you dispelled her fears, bringing her closer and rocking her as she cried into your shoulder and told you what happened. You smoothed down her bloodied hair, not caring about how she was staining your clothes with the blood coating her.

Once she calmed down a bit more, you gathered a rag from the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” You promised her and she nodded. You turned and left, closing the door behind you and giving her a playful wink through the window which she giggled quietly at. Hyun-su followed you as you walked down the stairs of the boat and to the edge of the water. As you kneeled down to dip the rag into the lake's water, you started asking the questions on your mind about what Ah-yi told you happened.

“How did they even find this place? How did they find out about her being mixed?” You asked Hyun-su. His lips twitched into a small smile when he heard you refer to her as ‘mixed.’ He remembers you telling him the reasoning behind it like it was yesterday.

“I don’t like the word ‘monster.’ I always associated the word ‘monster’ with someone who acts evilly and neither of you are like that. I know you’re not entirely human anymore but I refuse to call you monsters. Human or not, you are still a good person.”

It was the moment he had set it in stone that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“I don’t know,” he answered your questions. “But I have a bad feeling about the whole thing,” he paused momentarily before continuing. “What do you think we should do about the whole… touch thing she has?” He asked you and you frowned in thought.

“Well, I don’t think we should do anything. It’s a part of who she is and she shouldn’t feel the need to be ashamed of it. I don’t necessarily think she should use it on people, least of all those undeserving of it, but she can learn to control it. She doesn’t have to live in fear of herself.”

Just as Hyun-su was about to reply to your heartwarming statement, the two of you were interrupted by Ah-yi screaming and crying from the boat. You both ran in the direction of the scream and when you got there you saw Yi-kyung with her head down as blood dripped from her eye while Ah-yi was rubbing at a wound on her forearm.

“What’s going on?” Hyun-su questioned in a panic. Seeing the bloody knife on the ground as well as a bloody pencil, you pieced together what happened. It seemed Hyun-su did too, if his sigh was any way to tell. “Why did you have to do this?”

Yi-kyung let out a few heavy breaths as she breathed through the pain coursing through her eye. “I’m her mother. No matter how she changes, or what form she takes… I need to recognize my little girl. I won’t ever lose her.”

It was then you realized the wound Yi-kyung inflicted on Ah-yi was black. You let out another sigh, anger, and understanding fighting for control of your emotions as you realized the purpose of her actions. She may have had better intentions behind the action, but how she carried it out was not the way to go.

As Yi-kyung rose and left the scene, you sat down in front of Ah-yi, carefully reaching for her left arm where the wound had already healed. You gently used the rag to wipe down her arm, then her other arm, and then her face. You wiped down all the blood that tainted her smooth skin while she sat there silently, most likely in shock by what just happened. The domestic act, despite the violent acts that brought it about, brought a wave of emotion over Hyun-su as he watched the two of you.

It made him realize how much he wanted a family with you one day.

After Ah-yi was all clean, you gave her a pair of clothes to change into while you and Hyun-su went to the opposite side of the boat to talk while you waited for her. When she came out, you walked over to give her a hug which she gladly accepted. She squeezed you just as tightly as you squeezed her. You wished you could engrave it into her brain that you would never, could never, be afraid of her.

Afterward, she went to sit on a barrel, swinging her legs back and forth while you watched her and leaned against Hyun-su’s embrace. It was all so calm until Yi-kyung appeared from the boat’s stairs and walked towards Ah-yi with purpose. Ah-yi, still angry at her mother for what she did, hopped off the barrel and started walking away but was stopped when Yi-kyung’s hand wrapped around her bicep and aggressively pulled her back. The woman shoved her daughter’s hands into a pair of pink gloves connected by a rope that she placed behind the girl’s neck.

“Don’t take those off no matter what. Understand?” Yi-kyung told her daughter. You rushed forward, feeling anger simmer beneath your blood at the sudden display of aggression she started showing toward her daughter.

“Hey, don’t you think this is a bit extreme?” You told her, standing in between the two girls. You felt Ah-yi grip your shirt from behind you. You could tell even if her body had grown more, she was still used to her childhood ways of having you protect her.

“She’s my daughter, I will do as I see fit,” Yi-kyung told you sternly before swiftly turning around and walking back down the stairs of the boat, leaving the three of you alone.

You turned around to face the girl and sighed when you saw her speed-walking to her sleeping space in the captain’s quarters and locking the door behind her. You and Hyun-su decided to just set up camp outside the door, leaving her alone for the time being so she could sort out her thoughts.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Yi-kyung panicking. You instinctively looked around, looking to protect Ah-yi until you realized she wasn’t there. You rushed to stand up and ran to where her mother was breathing heavily and pacing back and forth.

“What’s going on? Where’s Ah-yi?” You questioned and she turned to face you.

“I don’t know! I was looking for her this morning and I can’t find her anywhere!”

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself. Your thoughts were racing, trying to think of any place she could possibly be. When you finally landed on an answer, you started walking off.

“Where are you going?” Yi-kyung called out to you and you scoffed, not bothering to face her as you continued walking.

“To find your daughter.”

When you got to the garden dome, the rusting doors were firmly closed unlike the previous times you were here with Ah-yi. Not deterred in any way, you rammed into the doors, successfully sending them flying open. You winced at the loud noise and walked in.

“Ah-yi!” You yelled out, praying your instinct was right and she was here.

“Go away, Unni,” you heard her soft voice tell you from further into the garden.

Sighing, you walked closer until you saw her sitting on the grass flooring while playing with a flower.

“Ah-yi, why don’t you come home?” You tried but she just shook her head. When you realized she wasn’t going to say anything else, you walked closer.

Imagine your surprise when she scrambled away from you, desperate to keep the space between you two.

“Ah-yi, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, stopping in your tracks to give her the space she desired.

“Don’t touch me! I might hurt you!” She exclaimed fearfully through a sob and you cursed her mother for putting that image in her head. Taking another slow and gentle step toward her, you internally cheered when she didn’t move away. You took more steps toward her until you were sitting right in front of her and your hand reached for hers.

When she pulled back, you gave her the best reassuring smile you could muster. “Sweetie, I know that you won’t hurt me. I promise.”

She hesitated but when you reached for her hands again she let you take them. You gave her a smile and squeezed her hand before pulling her into your chest. Your arms wrapped around her shoulders and held her tightly while she started crying more, her body wracking with the violent sobs she let out.

“I just don’t understand why she hates me so much! Those men hurt me first!” She sobbed into the crook of your neck and you softly caressed her hair, brushing the loose leaves and grass strands out.

“I know, I’m so sorry she did that to you. You definitely didn’t deserve that,” you reassured her and lifted your chin to rest your head on top of hers when you saw Hyun-su leaning against a wall while watching the two of you with a frown. You used a hand to wave him over and he slowly walked over so he was sitting about a foot away from the two of you. You looked back down at her and kissed her forehead lovingly. “I don’t want you to be afraid of yourself. You did what you had to do in that situation and no one is blaming you for it. Your mom is just…” you hesitated, looking to Hyun-su for support on how to explain the girl’s mother’s actions in a way that wouldn’t drag her name through the mud any more than it already was.

“Your mom was just worried,” Hyun-su intervened when he noticed your pleading gaze, bringing a hand to rest against Ah-yi’s back comfortingly. Ah-yi jumped a bit, startled, but otherwise didn’t do anything. “It was a shock to her to not only see you grow 10 years older in a few seconds but also to see how you dealt with those men. She didn’t want to lose you.”

“You mean she was scared. Scared of me,” she argued.

The both of you stayed quiet for a minute before you spoke again. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now because of what happened yesterday, but I promise you she loves you,” she started crying again and you just hugged her tighter to you. “And if you don’t believe me, at least know that I love you.”

It was the first time you’d expressed that to her in words and she looked up at you in surprise.

“Really?”

The pure innocence and surprise in her tone were enough for a genuine smile to break out on your face.

“Of course,” you told her sincerely and brushed her overgrown bangs to the side of her face.

‘I guess I should trim those soon,’ you thought to yourself.

“How could I not love you? You’re amazing!” You teased her lightly and she grinned at you. “You’re like a daughter to me, Ah-yi. I can’t see a life in which I wouldn’t love you.”

She dug her head into the crook of your neck again at your words.

“I just stopped crying,” she complained with a whine that made you laugh. “Don’t make me start again!”

“Okay! Okay,” you caved and leaned back to look at her again. “Why don’t we go home now?” She hesitated for a moment before nodding decisively.

The three of you stood up and you offered your hand to Ah-yi without a second of hesitation, something you could see in her eyes she appreciated.

“Ah-yi,” Hyun-su said as the boat came into view in front of you all. You’d stopped by the lake where you saved her all those months ago on the way back and spent a few hours there. Both of you could tell she didn’t really want to go home yet so you extended the day as long as you could.

She hummed and looked over at him from where you had her propped up on your back in a piggyback ride. She had stepped on a rock and dramatically complained about it until one of you just decided to pick her up and bring her along.

That someone being you.

“I…” he hesitated and you freed up a hand to reach over and give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I need you to do me a favor. When we get back, I need you to go easy on your mom.”

You could feel her body tensing on your back, not expecting his words to be that. You quickly intervened. “We don’t expect you to forgive her anytime soon. Hell, I don’t really expect you to ever forgive her, but I think we both agree that you should give her another chance,” you told her. She huffed and rested her chin on your head childishly. “We’ll talk to her whenever we get back and tell her what she did was wrong, but she was only trying to keep you with her.”

There were a few moments where Ah-yi stayed silent as you walked and you got nervous about what her reaction would be until she sighed.

“Fine.”

You sighed in relief and smiled. What you wouldn’t tell her is that the ‘talk’ you would be having would most likely be a screaming match between the two of you while Hyun-su tried to be the mediator.

It had been about a month since that day and you’d stayed with Ah-yi and Yi-kyung for about half of it. The rest of the time, you and Hyun-su traveled through the city together, enjoying the feeling of being free with each other and occasionally spying on the soldiers of the stadium when they went out on their supply runs.

“I have a bad feeling,” Hyun-su told you one day while the two of you were washing a muddied shirt in the river.

“Let’s go check it out then,” you told him, standing up and wiping your hands on your trousers but he held his hand up.

“I… I don’t think you should come with me.”

You looked at him, feeling shocked and slightly hurt but masking it under a calm exterior. “O-oh. Oka-”

“I just mean it feels dangerous. I don’t really know how to explain it,” he interrupted you quickly, hesitantly taking one of your hands and squeezing it reassuringly.

You gave him a small frown. “But I don’t want you to be in any danger either.”

He smiled confidently at you and stared deeply into your eyes. “I promise I will be okay. Just stay in the shed until I get back. I’ll be back in a few hours at most.”

After a moment of hesitation, your eyes flicking between the broken down shed behind you and Hyun-su’s dark mocha brown eyes, you nodded in agreement. He smiled at you before turning in the opposite direction and starting to walk away. Just as he started to get out of arm's length, you tightened the grip you had around his hand. He turned back to you, tilting his head in question but your head was down, your eyes focused on his hand where you gently played with his fingers.

“Please return to me,” you whispered, barely audible to him and he sighed. Taking a step forward, he wrapped his arms around you, one resting on the back of your head and the other around your waist.

“I will, Lucky. I always will.”

Eun-yu walked down the empty street of the city, darkness clouding every corner and making her jump at every noise. She wasn’t nearly as experienced as you when it came to venturing off alone and outside of the stadium so it was all new to her. This was her first time out of the stadium, let alone all by herself, and she had barely any idea of what to do or where to go. It all started when she was waiting for you at the exit you used to go through when you went on your personal expeditions.

She wasn’t dumb. She knew you were leaving every day and trying to hurt yourself, yet every day you came back safe. Maybe a little broken and bruised at times, but alive nonetheless. Despite the two of you not being close, she still cared about you more than anything. You were the closest thing to a friend that she had. She was positive you didn’t remember this, but she had helped comfort you one night as you cried after another - but also thankfully your last - attempt to leave this world. You told her about the force that kept you alive, protecting you from monsters and from yourself. You told her about how you blame yourself for Hyun-su’s disappearance and how he was most likely dead. You told her everything. Afterward, you ended up passing out in her embrace and sleeping the entirety of the next day away while she stayed by your side to ward off anyone wanting to wake you.

Once you woke up, you seemed normal. The same expressionless look on your face as you went on with your day. It stayed that way for a long time. Eun-yu tried her best to do subtle things to help you; to make you feel more wanted and make you blame yourself less.

Until one day, you never came back.

You leaving and never returning is what led her to be standing at the exit not even a week ago, feeding some of her rations to a small stray kitten. It’s what led her to stay there even when Chan-young approached her and asked her what she was doing. It’s what made her stay even after a young girl she hadn’t recognized revealed herself. It’s what made her stay despite the pleas to go back inside from Chan-young and allowed her to see the woman she thought had died show up and take the girl with her.

It is also what led her here, all alone looking for you or the girl or Yi-kyung. Whilst finding you was her main goal, she would be satisfied with any of the three.

She lost Chan-young somewhere along the way after he was poisoned by the girl accompanying that old man but she didn’t let that deter her.

Now, in the dark shadows looming over the alleyways she walked through, a long metal pipe clutched in one of her hands, she searched the abandoned city with the need to find you forcing down any fear she was feeling. The unoccupied hand had an old piece of clothing wrapped around it, protecting any dirt from getting into the wound where she protected Yeong-su from that soldier.

She often wondered if you knew how much you inspired her to be brave and protect those around her.

After some time, she found herself standing in front of a large greenhouse. Most of the windows were broken and she could see the plants inside had overgrown their once pristinely gardened form, but it was gorgeous regardless. The moonlight shone through the broken glass and cast spotlights of glimmering luminescence across the vegetation. She took a moment to admire everything, noting how you would’ve loved a space like this until she heard a growling sound from behind her and her guard immediately went back up. Moving the pipe so it was tightly grasped in her hands like a baseball bat, she held it defensively and slowly crept closer to the source of the growling. The large crater in the ground made her sick, reminding her of the tragedy that happened less than a year ago when the government tried to kill as many people as possible in order to ‘save humanity from itself.’

As she got closer, she raised the pipe over her head, ready to strike at any moment. The growling of the monster got louder as she approached and she prepared herself to swing until-

“He won’t attack you.”

Eun-yu turned around, facing the new voice and seeing the same girl from before. She lowered the pipe, letting it hang loosely at her side as the girl took slow steps toward her. Since she was almost positive this girl would have nothing to do with you, she instead asked about Yi-kyung. “I’m looking for Yi-kyung. You know where she is, right?” The girl stayed silent, gradually getting closer as she continued with her measured footsteps. “I have to meet with her.”

The two girls stared at each other as the younger girl approached. Silence stilled the air until it was broken.

“Mom… the people… they’re all bad.”

“Did you say ‘Mom’?” Eun-yu questioned, her face portraying her confusion and shock.

‘She couldn’t mean Yi-’

“You’re no different,” the girl concluded, taking her last few steps forward more quickly and launching Eun-yu down into the hole behind her. Feeling the ground disappear from below her feet and the wind rush through her hair, she screamed.

A scream.

A scream was what stopped you from continuing your washing of Hyun-su and your clothes. You snapped your head in the direction of the noise so fast you were worried you got whiplash. Unconsciously clutching the current piece of clothing you’d been washing in your hands, you started sprinting in the direction of the noise. As you got closer, the area around you got brighter and you noticed it becoming increasingly more familiar to you. It was when you saw the familiar metal canisters that you realized you were near the boat.

It was also when you realized the boat was on fire.

You gasped as you saw the flames licking away at the deck in the distance, pushing your body past its limits as you forced yourself to go faster, faster, faster. You were beyond terrified at the implications the fire had.

‘Was this the bad feeling Hyun-su had?’ You asked yourself. You tried your best to stay as positive as possible until you got there but it was difficult with all the possibilities swirling in your mind. However, there was one possibility you clung to: while the boat burning was bad in itself, maybe nobody was on it.

Maybe.

When you got to the stairs of the boat, you climbed them as quickly as you could, ignoring the pain in your foot when you slipped down one and ended up stepping on it wrong.

‘That’s a problem for later.’

You got to the top, not seeing anybody in the burning embers surrounding you. Quickly covering your mouth with the still-damp piece of fabric in your hands and thanking yourself for unconsciously holding onto it, you ran around the top of the deck, looking for any signs of life while simultaneously praying for none. Seeing nothing, your mind ran at a hundred miles per hour as you tried to decide if that was a good or bad thing.

“Cha Hyun-su!” You screamed out, the use of his last name representing your evident panic. “Seo Ah-yi!” It was when you circled the captain’s quarters that you saw a familiar lean body. “Seo Yi-kyung!”

You rushed forward, sliding down to your knees as you reached her and turning her onto her back. You winced as you saw the burn marks and ash littering across the side of her face. You brought the wet clothing down from where it covered your mouth and nose, quickly replacing it with the cuff of your jacket as you used the wet fabric to cover Yi-kyung’s nose. The fire caught onto your pants and you scrambled to put it out, letting out muffled screams into your sleeve as it burned your skin.

You watched as the small baby monster you knew to be Ah-yi’s friend approached you and Yi-kyung. You were mainly confused about why it showed up here willingly, usually, monsters were terrified of fire and would avoid it at all costs but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Go away! Get out of here!” You screamed at the baby but it just babbled at you, running up to you and setting out the fire on your pants. Then, it began to circle around the two of you, using its body to roll out any fire that got too close. You quietly sobbed, your tears feeling like ice against your flaming skin. “Thank you,” you whispered to the small creature, feeling so grateful yet guilty for the way it was putting itself in danger for you.

Suddenly, as you felt yourself fading out of consciousness, the exhaustion from the run over, and the pain in your foot getting to you, you heard a familiar voice call out for you.

“Lucky!”

Hyun-su...

Eun-yu screamed out as she fell until she quieted, accepting her death to be by falling down a large hole while not knowing if her only friend was dead or alive. Just as she lost all hope, the sound of something whipping through the wind above caught her attention along with a familiar large wing made of bone and muscle only. It was only for a moment that she caught a glimpse of the boy’s face before his arm wrapped around her body and they shot up.

Reaching the top, Hyun-su swung around so his body would take the brunt of the fall and they crashed. Sliding across the concrete, he used his wing to slow them down as much as possible and keep her as unharmed as he could. Barely taking a minute to breathe when they came to a stop, Hyun-su opened his arm and rolled Eun-yu off before standing back up.

“Cha Hyun-su,” the girl tried, struggling to lift herself from the ground. Receiving no response as he continued walking toward Ah-yi, who was watching curiously from the other side of the crater, she tried again. “Cha Hyun-su!” She finally made it to her feet as she screamed.

Hyun-su let out a breath. He took a moment to force his eyes to return to their natural state instead of the endless void that would consume him when in his monster state before slowly turning around to face her.

“Are you really just gonna leave like that?” She asked him, more quietly this time as he faced her. His wing flapped lightly at his side, whistling through the wind in an ethereally beautiful way.

At least, that’s how you would often describe it.

“Were you expecting a hug or something?” He asked her in a blank tone and she looked at him with exasperated annoyance.

“Yeah, I was. I expected at least a ‘Glad to see you. How’ve you been?’” She retorted back at him, getting angrier by the moment at the completely blank look on his face.

“But I’m not glad to see you,” he told her and she couldn’t help but expect it. She knew they weren’t close. Nowhere near as close as you were with Hyun-su. You always tried so hard to make him feel included, to fight for his rights even when Eun-hyuk kept you as far away from him as possible. After you tried to break the lock of the door that one time, he gave strict instructions to everyone who had a guard duty that they were not to allow you near the room. You would always leave Eun-hyuk with the same phrase after each failed attempt to see the boy.

“You’re a coward. You won’t go up the stairs to retrieve the residents’ items yourself and then you treat the man who does do it like scum. I can’t believe you.”

It was what made her like you in the first place. While she knew you and Hyun-su had known each other for a brief period before the apocalypse, she couldn’t help but admire how you stood up for the boy without a second thought. She was pretty sure she realized your feelings for him before even you did.

“You weren’t supposed to know how to leave the stadium. You should’ve just stayed away,” Hyun-su’s voice broke her out of her brief flash of memories.

“It was you all along…” she started, taking a stuttering step toward him. “That night with the rope… all the times she tried to kill herself… it was you who saved her, wasn’t it?”

By the lack of surprise or questioning on his face, she knew her answer. They stayed silent for a few more seconds, Eun-yu waiting for an answer and Hyun-su trying to provide one. Though his face remained monotonous, he was trying to come up with an answer that wouldn’t give her too much information but would satisfy her concern and need to know.

“We crossed paths. I figured since we weren’t strangers I might as well help her out. I know what it’s like. She doesn’t deserve that kind of a death. That’s it. Nothing more,” he looked at her, making sure his words weren’t just floating in one ear and out the other. “You understand?”

Without waiting for her to respond, he turned around again, rolling his eyes.

‘I have to get back to-’

“That’s bullshit and we both know it!” Eun-yu yelled from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. She took fast purposeful steps toward him as she continued to speak. “You’re in love with her, she was your everythin-!”

Hyun-su brought his wing down and scraped the concrete behind him, only a few feet away from where Eun-yu was standing. She held her breath, waiting for his next move and cursing herself for the shiver of fear that ran up her spine at his actions.

‘You would never fear him like this.’

Seeing him not make any more moves, she tried again. Prying her feet off the floor from where the strange acid was kicked up by the large appendage, she started walking again only for Hyun-su to slam his wing down again. This time, the toe of her front boot had melted off and she could see the black socks she wore underneath peeking through. She mentally slapped herself for how the breath she let out was shaky. Forcing herself to peel her boots off the ground again, she tried to take another step when suddenly a hand latched onto her bicep and pulled her back, sending her tumbling to the ground.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” The large man, Ho-sang+ asked. His shoulders were draped with a homemade camouflage outfit made of grass and hay. The man raised his shotgun, aiming it toward Hyun-su who had still yet to turn around. “You monster piece of shit, what are you doing here?” The boy turned to look over his shoulder at the new voice. “Get gone!”

Right as Hyun-su turned back around to keep walking, Eun-yu spoke up again.

“Wait!” She scrambled to her feet, intending on running over to Hyun-su but the older man grabbed her shoulders and held her back. “Cha Hyun-su. Cha Hyun-su!” He came to a halt again and it was enough of a tell he was waiting for her to continue. “She…” she began, hesitating to tell him this in case her gut feeling was wrong. “She’s been missing for months. Do you know… I mean… is she…” She couldn't force herself to get her words out, only able to speak in between shaky breaths as she started to think of the worst possible outcomes. If her gut feeling was wrong and you weren’t really with Hyun-su, she didn’t know what she would do.

Hyun-su turned back around to look at her over his shoulder. Keeping eye contact with her for a few moments as he debated whether to tell her or not, he relented.

“She’s alive.”

Turning back around, he could hear the breaths of relief Eun-yu and the older man both released, albeit for different reasons.

Following Ah-yi, they both walked away from the two humans. He waited until they got to the edge of the river to start talking.

“Why did you do that?”

“I don't like her,” Ah-yi responded.

“So why don't you like her?” He pushed,

“Every human is the same. She’s no different,” she yelled angrily before her voice dropped to a mumble he was just barely able to hear. “The only human to be an exception is Unni.”

Hyun-su looked at her when she stopped, the anger being shown clearly on her face and he was confused about why she was so riled up. The quiet atmosphere was only interrupted by the hooting of the owls in the nearby trees.

“I was curious about humans at first… because both Mom and Unni are human. So I said ‘hi’ and they…” She took a shaky breath in before continuing. “They hurt me. They yelled and they pushed and... and they hurt me too. And they killed all my friends and monsters!” She screamed out, her voice heavy with raw emotion. “Leaving just me.”

“They were just scared,” Hyun-su tried to soothe her anger and pain as her eyes filled with tears. “Afraid of losing someone.”

“Then I'll give them a reason. Show them how scary it was,” her heavy breathing slowly evened out and Hyun-su sighed. He knew you would be able to help her with a situation like this better than he would. From the very first day, you always seemed to have a way of calming her down and helping her through the more difficult times.

“Let's get out of here. Yeah?” He suggested as tears began to fall down her cheeks, hitting the pavement below with an imperceptible plop.

“There's no place for me. My house is gone,” she told him.

“What… do you mean?” He asked after a few silent beats.

“I… no longer need you. Not you, or Mom…” she paused to calm herself but couldn’t stop the sob that came with her next words. “Or Unni. Not anymore.”

Hyun-su let out a slight gasp before sprinting in the direction of the boat. He hoped his suspicions were wrong. He hoped Ah-yi wouldn’t do that to her mother.

But he knew she would.

He’d heard the countless nights you spent with her in your arms as you consoled her and reassured her about her mother’s love when she was positive it no longer existed. He knew how much she hated the woman who gave birth to her, hated her for the love she once had but lost on that fateful day.

Hyun-su ignored the sharp pain in his lungs as he sprinted toward the boat, cursing lightly when he saw the fire engulfing it from afar. Finally reaching it, he ran around looking desperately for Yi-kyung and screaming her name.

It wasn’t until he found both her and you lying on the ground that his panic started to take over.

“Lucky!” He screamed, running towards you and dropping to his knees. He quickly picked both of you up, the weight not a struggle for him but the positioning of your bodies being a bit awkward. He ended up with Yi-kyung on his back piggyback style and you being held in his arms like his bride. Seeing the small creature passed out only a few feet away, he picked it up too and put it on your lap as he walked off the boat, letting the home full of memories burn itself to the ground forevermore.

Hyun-su walked towards the swan boat about a quarter mile away from the boat. Gently setting Yi-kyung down first, he placed you down with your head in his lap. He cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he had just left you alone. He couldn’t believe you would go into such a dangerous place willingly.

But then again, he couldn’t be surprised. You were like that, so selfless and kind. If you saw the boat on fire you would never allow yourself to stay behind while there was a potential of the people you loved being on that boat.

He was thankful you at least were smart enough to cover your nose and mouth when you were there. The ripped and slightly scorched shirt covering Yi-kyung’s mouth was one he recognized to be yours. And although it wasn’t a great replacement, he saw how the cuff of your jacket sleeve was loosely placed over your own mouth, slipping once you’d fallen unconscious.

As he was picking the bits of seared wood and singed fabric from your hair, a small whisper of his name drew his attention behind him to Yi-kyung.

“Hyun-su…”

He turned around, making sure not to jostle you around too much as he looked at her. Her face was burned, fresh wounds scarring the flesh of her cheeks that would forever alter her appearance.

“Are you okay, Yi-kyung?”

“It’s all my fault it’s like this,” she started. Hyun-su stayed silent as she continued. “I just wanted her to be safe like you were,” she whimpered, it was unclear whether it was from the pain on her skin or the pain in her heart. “All I wanted was for her to…” she sobbed but no tears came out yet. She was dehydrated and wounded and it was clear she wouldn’t make it without medical help they no longer had.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hyun-su refuted.

Yi-kyung groaned as she sat up, leaning heavily against the edge of the swan boat. “I should’ve killed her.”

Hyun-su’s eyes widened at her words. While he knew that was what she had wanted when her baby was first born, he didn’t know it was still something she thought about.

“In the back of my mind, I always had that thought. I know she must’ve felt it when I had those thoughts,” she breathed heavily, her breaths sounding gritty and labored. She looked at the girl lying in Hyun-su’s lap, feeling angry, regretful, and jealous, but mostly grateful. Grateful she had at least you to look up to and show her the way when she couldn’t. “I know she would always tell her about how she hated me,” she pointed at you weakly. “I know she always saw her as more of a mother than she did me.”

“You’re wrong,” Hyun-su protested. “While Ah-yi loves Lucky, she needs you as her mother. I know because I was there too through all those days,” he looked down at you, eyes still shut and sweat clinging to your skin. “So was she,” he breathed out a sigh and looked back at Yi-kyung. “You said you were a bad mother, but you know that’s just not true.”

“The fault is all mine,” tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke, a soothing touch to her wounded face. “I was the one who made her like this,” she blamed herself, Hyun-su’s reassuring words either not registering in her brain or being completely ignored. “No, this is good,” she accepted. She knew her end would be soon. “It turning out like this is for the best. This way, I… I don’t have to kill my daughter.,” she sobbed.

“Were you really going to kill her?” He asked incredulously. At her lack of response, he continued. “Why? You’re her mother! So why?”

“I don’t deserve to be,” she cut him off. “I could never be worthy of her, not when I treated her so differently than you did. Than she did,” she explained. She couldn’t fathom saying your name, feeling unworthy of being near you when she always had those terrible thoughts of hurting her own flesh and blood. You had always treated her so much better than she had, treating her like your own daughter, whether it was by blood or not. “I had the same thought hundreds of times. ‘Why is she cursed like this?’ Why?” She started sobbing again, the guilt and blame she put on herself for the past year torturing her soul. “It’s all my fault. My awful thoughts and desires turned her… into a… monster.”

Hyun-su scoffed. “Yeah, so what?” He looked at her and the surprise of his words stopped her crying. “Are monsters really all bad?”

Yi-kyung sighed and just as Hyun-su was going to continue talking, the soft babbling of the baby monster sounded out again, drawing both their attention to the mini creature. He gently picked it up, holding it in his arms as he spoke again. “This one saved you. Saved both of you. Saved you because you’re family…” his eyes filled with tears but he refused to let his voice break. “You see, monsters feel and recognize people. Because they were human once too.”

He hugged the monster to his chest, and the conversation ended when Yi-kyung faded out of consciousness.

The group sat around the campfire, Ha-ni snuggled up against Chan-young’s side while the other two sat alone.

“So, which is it?” Eun-yu asked. “A brother? A boss? A dad? What are you to each other?”

“Why the hell does it matter? Just eat and get lost,” the older man evaded the question.

“Um… why don’t you come back with us? You’ll be safer there,” Park Chan-young offered and Ha-ni’s head perked up in excitement.

“Are we getting married then?” She asked, moving closer to his side and resting her head against his shoulder.

“Uh, that’s… that’s not what I’m saying,” he repudiated.

“Safe? You guys have just been lucky,” the older man rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “That, or you don’t know better.”

“I think you might be underestimating some of us.”

“I don’t trust humans, okay?” He concluded.

“I’m not surprised. But you don’t trust monsters either?” Eun-yu integrated herself into the conversation once more. “And what about her?” She asked, tilting her head at Ha-ni. “You trust her?” He didn’t respond and it was silent for a minute. “Sure seems like it.”

Ha-ni, noticing how the atmosphere was turning strange and uncomfortable, interrupted. “Let’s go with them. Let’s go together, teacher, hmm?” She insisted, leaning forward in her seat to emphasize her wants. “Hey, let’s go!”

The older man looked thoughtful for a moment, considering his companion’s words before noticing something in the distance.

“What are you doing here?” He screamed accusingly, raising his shotgun threateningly toward the figure approaching.

Hyun-su walked forward. Yi-kyung was tied against his back using the long-sleeved shirt you used to cover your mouth in the fire meanwhile you were held in his arms, cradled against his chest protectively.

He raised his head slightly to look at them, continuing his stride forward despite the threat of the gun in front of him.

In the blink of an eye, Ha-ni appeared next to Ho-sang as he held the gun and moved his arms, forcing it to face the ground just as he pulled the trigger. It hit the rocks harmlessly and she looked at Hyun-su curiously.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly lowered himself to his knees and placed Yi-kyung on the ground after untying her. Keeping you in his arms as he rose again, he held you close as Eun-yu rushed forward. Stopping just a foot in front of him, she looked down at you in shock. She reached her hand out to caress your cheek but stopped herself at the last second.

“Please help,” Hyun-su begged and Eun-yu lifted her chin to look at him. “This was the only place I could turn to.”

Both Chan-young and Ha-ni walked over to where Yi-kyung was lying on the ground, kneeling down to properly assess the damage on her body.

“How did she get like this? And the kid? The girl who left with you?” Eun-yu asked before looking down at you still in Hyun-su’s arms and finally allowing her fingers to skim along the feverish skin of your cheek as she whispered your name, stunned. “And what about her? Is she okay? Why isn’t she awake?”

“First, let’s get them both inside,” Chan-young stopped her questioning before Hyun-su could respond. Ha-ni helped him prop the woman on her back, fully intending to bring her into the trailer until a gunshot sounded.

Eun-yu froze in shock, paralyzed by seeing Hyun-su stumble back with a gunshot to the shoulder. He fell to his knees once more, his grip on you loosening but refusing to let go. He gently set your lower body down onto his lap, his now free hand going to hold his wounded shoulder while the other held your upper body to his chest. He ignored the anger that stirred in his chest when he saw how close the shot came to your face, just missing by a few inches. Clenching his eyes closed tightly and blocking out the sound of everyone talking and screaming around him, he forced the familiar feeling of his monster down. When he finally looked up and opened his eyes he saw Eun-yu holding Ha-ni against her chest with blade centimeters from her neck.

“- and I’ll cut her fucking head off.”

Ha-ni scoffed at her words with an annoyed smile but didn’t try to fight back or move away.

“Way to prove my point about humans,” Ho-sang told her, not lowering his gun. “Pulling this shit after I saved your life is rich.”

“I said I’ll take him with me. I said I’ll take them so just… what's your problem?” Eun-yu begged the man, tears forming along her waterline as the situation continued to go downhill.

“You’re with monsters,” Ho-sang explained, glaring at her from his spot. “That makes you a threat. And you call yourself human? Jesus.”

“You call yourself human when you just almost shot a girl in the face? He might not be human but she is!” She screamed at him and continued when she saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes. “And what makes you special? How can you be sure you’re gonna stay immune?” She questioned but he stayed silent. “What if you were to start showing symptoms? Seems a bullet is your only option. Since monsters have to die.”

Hyun-su groaned in pain before trying to stop her from baiting the man. “Stop it,” his words were spoken weakly as more blood spilled from his wound. He covered it with the fabric of his shirt, trying to avoid getting as much blood on you as possible but the splatters of blood across your forehead and cheeks told him it was already a bit too late for that.

“And her?” Eun-yu continued, ignoring the boy’s warnings and protests as she started to speak about Ha-ni. “Could you put a bullet in her?” Her words were spoken softly but Ho-sang heard it loud and clear. He stayed quiet again, not willing to speak of the situation he feared the most. “How about I save you the trouble?” She offered.

“Oh, yeah. So this is who you are,” he finally spoke, nodding in disdain at her actions.

“Stop it,” Hyun-su tried again but again was ignored. “Don’t do this Eun-yu,” he begged.

Suddenly, Ha-ni grabbed the wrist holding the knife to her throat, and twisted it away from herself, spinning around so the knife was now in her possession and the tip was pointing directly at Eun-yu’s neck. There was a collective gasp from everyone watching and Ho-sang lowered his guns in shock. “Ha-ni!” He yelled at her as she stuck the point of the blade in Eun-yu’s neck, causing a trail of blood to leak out.

After a moment of tense silence, she pulled the knife away and dropped it to the floor where it clattered against the rocks loudly. Pushing her forward, she walked over and entered her car, entering it and called for Ho-sang to join her.

“In this life, we weren’t meant to be,” she started, talking to Chan-young as her companion got into the car and started it up. “Maybe the next one. Get rid of the girl though.”

The group watched as the two drove off before Chan-young turned to Hyun-su. “Are you okay to move? How’s your shoulder?”

Hyun-su pulled his hand away, the wound already having closed and the blood surrounding it was the only reminder that it was ever there in the first place. He nodded. “It’s okay.”

Chan-young took a few steps closer to him before kneeling beside him and looking at where you rested in his arms. The pain from your ankle and slight burns showed on your leg but you luckily didn’t seem to have any difficulty breathing or major damage. “And her? Are you still okay to carry her?”

Hyun-su nodded once again while he moved his empty hand to once again rest under your knees and stood up. “Yes, I’m okay.”

“I think we’d better go. Monsters may have heard the gunfire,” Chan-young concluded and walked behind Hyun-su as he started the path to his chosen destination, whatever that place may be.

Eun-yu kneeled down to grab her bag and knife before looking back at Hyun-su. “Let’s go.”

He sighed as she started to walk behind him, taking a moment to look at you and make sure you were alright before he followed. He would have to wipe his shoulder down and clean the blood from your face before you woke up. He didn’t feel like worrying you about his injury just yet.

Sighing once more, he turned around and started to follow the two.

They arrived at the destination Chan-young had brought them to. It was a hospital, or at least it used to be. As they got inside, there was broken glass everywhere and scratches from an unnatural creature lining the floor. It was clear it was no longer the medical place it used to be.

Setting Yi-kyung down on the hospital bed they found, Chan-young turned to Hyun-su and asked, “What happened to her?”

“A fire started where she was staying,” he started to explain, still holding you since all the other hospital beds they could find were not exactly clean. At least the one Yi-kyung was lying on didn’t have any blood stains on it. He didn’t mind though. “I think there was no way out. She was already unconscious by the time I made it in.”

“It’s carbon monoxide poisoning,” Chan-young concluded from the evidence provided before standing up urgently and turning to Eun-yu. “Something like a small gas tank should be lying around. Go look for some,” he then turned to Hyun-su who was getting ready to stand and help them. “You should probably stay here,” he told him and Hyun-su stayed silent for a moment as he looked at you in his arms before nodding in agreement. He moved to lean against the wall as the other two went off in different directions to search for the gas tank.

After a while, there was the faint sound of someone yelling, “I found one!” Soon after, both Eun-yu and Chan-young returned to the bed, the boy carrying a gas tank in his hands which he set up next to it. Expertly, he plugged the tube into the tank and turned the air on, testing the pressure and how much oxygen was left in the tank.

“Does it work?” Eun-yu asked just as the arrow pointed to ‘REFILL’ and Chan-young sighed. “What? What is it?”

“It’s out of oxygen,” he explained.

“So what happens now?”

“Her organs will start to fail without… without a steady supply of oxygen,” he told them before his head fell forward. “Fuck me.”

“Enough of that crap. Is there any other way?” Eun-yu begged, unwillingly to give up so soon.

“It’s already too late.”

“Don’t say that unless you’ve tried everything,” she told him seriously, she then moved over to start picking Yi-kyung up by her arms. “Park Chan-young, help me carry her. Let’s get her to the stadium. We have to leave now,” she ordered but he didn’t move and Hyun-su just buried his head in your hair emotionally. “I said help me carry her!” She sobbed, setting her back down when he still didn’t try to help her and covering her face with her hands.

The group just finished moving both you and Yi-kyung to another room, this one finally having another bed that wasn’t stained with blood and smelling of a rotting corpse. Chan-young helped Eun-yu carry Yi-kyung to the room while Hyun-su held you close, only letting you go when they found the bed for you to lie on.

Despite how his monster body protested, he allowed Eun-yu to have a moment alone with you and Yi-kyung in the room, choosing instead to wait on the bench outside. He saw through the crack in the door how she held your hand gently and spoke words he couldn’t hear. He watched as she set your hand down across your stomach and retreated from the room to sit on the bench with him, leaving an empty seat between them.

“Are you feeling better?” Hyun-su asked her once she sat down. She sighed quietly and he took that as her response. “We did the best we could.”

“Are you comfortable with this?” She asked him, not understanding how he could be so calm in a moment like this. “Is leaving her to die like that really the right thing to do?”

“Now that I think about it… I think it’s what she wanted,” he construed and she turned her head to look at him.

“What?”

“Her boat was deliberately burned, but she chose to stay aboard.”

“Why, though?” Eun-yu whispered. “Why would Yi-kyung do that?”

“I wanna ask you something,” Hyun-su told her and she stayed quiet as she waited for him to speak. “How’s everyone doing? I’ve tried asking Lucky but she always gets really quiet when I do.”

Eun-yu’s lips quirked up minutely at the familiar term of endearment but the memory of her grief overwhelmed it. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself before answering him. “Hye-in and Su-yeong are dead. And Yoon Ji-su, too.”

Now Hyun-su knew why you would never talk about it, why you would always get quiet and have that far-away look in your eyes when he asked. He always figured you just didn’t know, that maybe you got separated at some point, but somewhere deep down he knew that was just wishful thinking. While he hated that you didn’t confide in him, he understood where you were coming from. Even a year isn’t always enough time to heal enough to talk about something so tragic.

“Just like that, they’re all gone,” she continued in a whisper. He turned his head away from her as a tear fell down his cheek before she spoke up more loudly this time, masking the emotion in her voice with false confidence. “Now let me ask you a question,” she said. He turned to look at her but she was looking in the direction of where you lay on the hospital bed, head tilted to the side as you breathed easily. “How is she doing, really? Is she better?” Her voice almost broke as she unwillingly thought back to how you were feeling during your time in the stadium but she was able to mask it with a cough. While she was hoping you were doing better now that you were with Hyun-su and hopefully didn’t blame yourself for his disappearance anymore, she had to be sure.

“She’s doing good. She still has her bad days but overall she’s doing better.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, a single tear falling down her cheek. “Thank you.”

He turned his head to look back at her and saw she was now staring at him. “Hm?”

“You brought her back to me. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t at least see her one more time. If I didn’t make sure she was still alive. So thank you.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I also,” she continued. “Want to thank you for returning to her,” she shot him a watery smile as her eyes brimmed with tears. “God knows she deserves it.”

When you woke up, the first things you saw were the blaring lights of the white lighting fixture above you. Groaning, you brought a hand up to cover your eyes and turned your head only to gasp when you saw the burned face of Yi-kyung on the bed next to yours. Quickly throwing your legs over the side of the bed and standing up to check on her, you let out a yelp of pain as you stepped on your wounded ankle and crumpled to the floor.

Breathing heavily, you cursed yourself before hearing the sound of fast-paced footsteps entering the room you were in. You leaned up on one hand and saw a face you’d longed to see for weeks.

“Eun-yu?”

The girl snapped her head to where you sat and gasped out your name, running toward you and crouching down. She grabbed your arms and helped you stand up, making you sit on the edge of the bed so she could check out your foot.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, concerned but all you could think about was the woman breathing unevenly on the bed behind her.

“Fine, fine,” you said dismissively, only half listening to her concerns. “How is Yi-kyung? Is she okay?”

Eun-yu slapped your arm lightly. “You were passed out for half a day, let me worry about you.”

You gave a small chuckle at her words, reaching your arms out to wrap around her shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Eun-yu. I’ve missed you.”

She exhaled slowly, wrapping her own arms around you and letting herself relax in your embrace.

“Wait, what am I doing here?” You asked as you softly pushed her away from you. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the stadium? Are you okay?” You gasped, firing questions at her like a machine gun prior to grabbing the sides of her puffy jacket sleeves and pulling her a few inches closer as you looked her over for any injuries. Other than the small wound on her neck, she seemed to be relatively unharmed.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” she scolded lightly and lifted your wounded and swollen ankle up. “First, we should fix this up. I’m sure there’s some tape or something around here,” she started to walk away but turned back to look at you. “Don’t move,” she scolded with a finger pointed at you accusingly. You held your hands up in a surrender motion and laughed.

After a while of looking around the room, she walked back with a wad of medical tape in her hand. You watched in awe as she started to expertly wrap your foot with the medical tape in a way that would help keep it in place. Noticing your stare, she explained. “I used to do ballet. I sprained my ankle and had to do this every day.”

“Well lucky me then,” you told her with a smile that she returned once she finished. She then cut the ripped pant leg off at the knee and cut the singed parts off. Using the burned-free part of the fabric, she gave you her hand to squeeze as she poured the clear liquid inside a bottle of vodka on your burns. You screamed and stuffed your sleeve into your mouth, both stopping yourself from breaking your teeth and muffling your pained noises. After finishing disinfecting the wound, she got to work on wrapping the cut fabric around your burns to prevent any further dirt from entering it.

Breathing heavily through your pain, you grabbed the nearly empty bottle of vodka after she set it down and lifted it to your nose.

It looked like vodka.

It smelled like vodka.

Taking a sip, your face scrunched up in displeasure.

Definitely vodka, although something was off.

“Why is it so watery?” You asked her. Eun-yu’s head snapped up to see you bring the bottle to your lips again to take another sip.

Grabbing the bottle away from you, she smirked and brought the bottle to her lips, drinking the last of the liquid while you whined. After sighing overexaggeratedly, she smiled at you and handed the bottle back to you. You shot her a glare “For one, when are you ever going to find a steal like that again? Had to make sure it lasted!” You laughed. “And second, regular vodka is too potent to use as a disinfectant by itself, you have to water it down so you don’t burn away your nerves.”

She secured the fabric with the medical tape and tapped your knee to signal she was finished. She helped you down from the table and let you wrap an arm around her shoulder as you limped over to the bench outside of the room. You thanked her just as you saw another familiar face appear around the corner. “Park Chan-young? What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He asked instead of answering your question.

“I’m feeling okay, my ankle hurts a little but not too bad,” you told him with a smile before it faded and your head turned to look at Yi-kyung through the still-opened door. “She’s not going to make it, she?”

You heard the two of them sigh behind you and you let out a shaky breath. Tilting your head up, you tried to stop the tears from falling.

It was silent for a while, the only sounds were the ragged breathing from Yi-kyung in the next room until Chan-young spoke.

“Cha Hyun-su, was it?” He asked and your head snapped up to look at him while Eun-yu who was sitting beside you didn’t even flinch. “That’s the monster that killed Mr. Kim, right?”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant when Eun-yu spoke before you could.

“It gets on my nerves when you use the word ‘kill’.”

He sat down next to her and leaned forward in his chair with his elbows resting on his knees. “Well, nonetheless, that’s how it went down.”

“Your curiosity will cost you someday,” at his silence to her words, she sighed and continued. “Mr. Kim was displaying symptoms.”

The news of this story was no surprise to you. While you weren’t there when it happened, you do remember how Eun-yu had relayed the story to you only a few nights after the incident. You didn’t know she knew it was Hyun-su though, and to be honest you felt slightly betrayed.

“I don’t know when it’d begun.”

“Wait,” Chan-young started, gasping at the new information. “But why didn’t you say anything? You were branded as a murderer.”

“The Chief and I have had… a long-standing grudge. Yet we all lived because she opened the stadium to us. I can’t deny that. I just couldn’t screw her over like that.”

You quietly gasped. Despite the information not being new to you, you hadn’t known the reason she never spoke up was because of that.

“Lee Eun-yu,” Chan-young said softly.

“Eun-yu, you shouldn’t have done that to yourself,” you scolded her quietly.

“Don’t get me wrong. That wasn’t the only reason,” she continued, leaning back in her seat. “I didn’t know it was Hyun-su, but… either way, I didn’t want to tell Crow Platoon.”

Oh. So Eun-yu didn’t know it was Hyun-su. That definitely made you feel better than the idea of her knowing this entire time and just not telling you.

When a sudden gasp was heard from the room Yi-kyung was in, all of your heads snapped up and Chan-young and Eun-yu rushed into the room. You stood up, hopping over to lean against the entrance when you slipped.

Just as your hand missed grabbing the frame of the door, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you back up. Turning your head to look at your savior, you were surprised to see Hyun-su with his arm supporting you and Ah-yi standing beside him, looking at you with just as surprised eyes as you were at her. The boy moved you so you were propped up against the door frame before he stepped into the room.

“Could you step outside for a moment?” He asked the two as they stood beside Yi-kyung’s bed. They hesitated but eventually made their way out of the room. As Hyun-su walked up to the woman, leaning over her as she breathed raggedly, you wrapped your arms around Ah-yi and brought her into a hug.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” you expressed your condolences before pushing her away just enough so you could see her face. “How are you doing?” You asked her as you caressed her cheek and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

She shrugged her shoulders, looking away unconvincingly. “I’m fine. She hated me anyway. I only came for Oppa.”

You tsked and brought her back into your embrace. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

She didn’t respond and Hyun-su turned back to look at the two of you, motioning for Ah-yi to walk in. As she passed by you, you smoothed down the back of her hair and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

Hyun-su walked past her, letting her have her final moment alone with her mother on her deathbed. Instead, he walked over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you walk as you all moved further down the hall to give the girl some space. Once he decided it was far away enough, he moved you over to the wall so you could lean against it and stood beside you. You leaned your head against his shoulder, wanting to give and gain comfort from the action. You all stayed there, silently, for a few minutes until Ah-yi walked down the hall.

Hyun-su popped off the wall and she turned to face the two of you, mainly Hyun-su as he started to speak. “Why are you out here already?”

You leaned forward, grabbing onto his arm to support you as you looked at her. “You should stay with her a while longer,” you insisted softly. Her eyes fluttered down to where the medical tape peeked out above your shoe and the pant leg was taped in place around your calf before she fluttered her eyes back up to yours.

“Mom’s not going to die. So stop crying, please.”

The way she said it gave you a bad feeling and the clattering that came from the direction of the room didn’t help to ease it. Hyun-su turned, making sure you were balanced before rushing over to the room. You glanced at Ah-yi before heading that direction as well, having Eun-yu and Chan-young help you.

“Yi-kyung!” You heard Hyun-su exclaim just as you all got to the doorway. When you looked into the room, you saw Hyun-su on the ground with Yi-kyung held in his arms while tears fell down his cheeks.

You covered your mouth in horror as your own tears started to form. You stayed there, supported only by the door as you all cried over the loss of your friend.

Your eyes shot open when you heard the sound of bones cracking. Her head was thrown backward and her back arched to the point where you were sure that was the bone-breaking sound you heard. The skin on the left side of her body started to turn black, almost as if ash had been painted across it. She started thrashing around, her body contorting inhumanely and her skin releasing a dark, unnatural smoke. As she rolled onto her stomach the bones in her back crunched loudly and she shot up.

You barely had enough time to move out of the way before she ran into the door you were leaning on. Disoriented and dizzy, you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on what was happening around you until you heard the ringing of a gunshot and Yi-kyung’s half-monsterized body fell backward at the waist.

“No, don’t do that!” Hyun-su screamed, rushing forward and moving Chan-young’s hands away while he held fast to the gun.

“It’s too late for her. She’s already gone!” Chan-young yelled at him.

You looked back at the woman to see the gunshot wound already gone, now covered with the same black markings that covered one half of her body. “H-Hyun-su,” you whimpered weakly and both men turned to look back at Yi-kyung. You let out a soft sob as you saw the tear slide down her face.

“Yi-kyung,” Hyun-su whispered and she raised a hand toward him. Reaching for him, she started to walk forward before her other arm, the remaining human arm, reached out to grab her own hand, almost as if to pull her back. “You guys should go back,” he whispered to you all. “Take Lucky with you, she can’t walk on her own.”

“No! Not without you!” You protested but Hyun-su didn’t turn to face you. Eun-yu looked at you hesitantly before turning back to him.

“What about Yi-kyung?” She let out through a sob. “How could she turn so suddenly? She wasn’t showing any symptoms.”

“Her daughter did this to her,” he explained hurriedly.

“Ah-yi…” you whispered in realization.

“She turns people to monsters?” Chan-young questioned, still aiming the gun at Yi-kyung. “Monsterization is uncontrollable by humans.”

“She’s not a human,” you said lowly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eun-yu screamed at you just as Yi-kyung rushed forward to jump out the window of the room behind you.

“Leave! Now!” He yelled at them before jumping out the window after her.

“Hyun-su, no!” You cried out, trying to lift yourself to your feet to no avail. Eun-yu and Chan-young, ran to the broken window, looking out as you continued to struggle. “Eun-yu!” You screamed at her and she turned around to face you with widened eyes. “Please! You have to help him! Don’t let him get hurt, please,” you begged her.

She nodded, determined. Turning to Chan-young, he nodded at her and they set off in the direction of the stairs to the bottom floor.

You sat against the glass doors of the room Hyun-su was resting in. For the first hour, you were in there with him, holding him while he cried. After he fell asleep, though, you decided to give him some space. You waited outside, leaning your head back against the cool surface of the glass with your uninjured leg bent and held to your chest while the other was extended outward.

Down the hall, you could see Eun-yu watching you until Chan-young approached her. You looked away as you saw them staring at you. Both had sympathy lacing their gazes that you couldn’t stand to see. Sympathy meant you had something they felt sympathetic towards. You didn’t want to think of what that thing was. All you wanted was to be back at your shed, doing laundry with Hyun-su while Ah-yi sat down on the edge of the river bank with her feet dipping into the water.

But those days were over, at least for the time being.

“What are you gonna do now?” Park Chan-young asked Eun-yu, her gaze still locked onto your form curled up across the hallway.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I found her, and she’s alright. That’s good enough for me. I know she’s in good hands with Cha Hyun-su. I don’t want her to come back to the stadium with us. Not when she was so miserable there,” she told him, thinking for a moment before giving a conclusive answer. “I’m gonna wait for Hyun-su to wake up. I’ll wait with her until then. Then I’ll say my goodbyes and return to the stadium. You?”

“I should get back there,” he decided. “I’ve been gone for too long.”

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah.”

Chan-young gave a final look back at where you sat now with both your knees bent and your face buried in your arms. “Send them my regards, both of them,” he told her and she nodded up at him. “I’ll see you at camp.”

With a moment of hesitation, he turned in the direction of the stairs and started walking toward them.

It had been a couple of hours since Hyun-su fell asleep. Eun-yu had dozed off about an hour ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to shut your eyes for too long. So you sat there, your eyes staring off into the distance, unfocused and blurred. It wasn’t until the sun started to set, the light shining through the blinds of the windows and casting a golden orange glow onto the tile floor that you snapped out of your daze. Carefully bringing yourself to a standing position, you turned around, opened the door, and walked through. Your eyes immediately went to where Hyun-su was previously lying down, but when you didn’t find him there, you panicked. Raising your eyes, you let out a breath of relief when you saw him sitting on the bed next to the windows, leaning back on his right arm and swaying slightly.

“Hyun-su?” You asked softly but received no response. Walking closer, you saw his eyes were closed as he continued to sway. It seemed like he was barely conscious and his body kept falling right before he caught it, over and over again. Reaching the point that you were standing right in front of him, you reached up to place your hand on his right cheek, a feeling he immediately leaned into. “Oh, lovely,” you whispered. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

About to pull your hand away from his cheek to clear the pillows and blankets piled on the bed behind him, you stopped when his left hand shot up and grabbed onto your wrist, keeping you in place. Confused and concerned, you brought your other hand up to hold his other cheek. “Hyun-su?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

He slowly opened his eyes and you gasped once you saw them.

You’d only seen him like this once before and it was after he protected you from a particularly strong monster. Halfway through the battle, all of his mannerisms changed and he moved completely differently. It wasn’t until the monster ran away, Hyun-su covered in its blood yet not a scratch on him, that you saw his eyes.

You weren’t scared. You could never be scared.

Not of him.

Never of him.

But it did surprise you.

After he returned to his normal self, he told you about how he tried to never go into that state of being because he wasn’t in full control. Despite the honest way you told him he would never hurt you and that you trusted him, he still kept the monster side of him tucked away as much as possible.

It seemed that wasn’t the case right now, though.

“Why are you here?” You whispered to him, your voice not at all accusing or scared, not even a little bit tentative.

“You don’t want me here?” He questioned. It was so strange to see Hyun-su’s body and hear Hyun-su’s voice but know it wasn’t him, at least not completely.

“I didn’t say that,” you told him, your eyes lightly scolding him in a way that made his lips quirk. “I just asked why you were here. Is he…” you hesitated, still unsure of how to fully phrase questions when he was in this state. “Are you okay?”

“He’s hurt. Let him rest for a bit,” he explained as he leaned more into your palm. His grip on your wrist hadn’t been all too tight to begin with but it still softened to a loose hold as he kept eye contact with you.

You nodded at his words, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone and your lips curving into a subtle smile when his eyes closed contently. “Is that why you’re here?” You whispered, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere. His eyes opened again and he stared at you. “To help him with the pain?” He nodded and you sighed. It wasn’t the physical pain on his body either of you meant, and you both knew that. The pain of losing Yi-kyung, and then losing her again at his own hands was too much for him. It most certainly would have been too much for you, so you couldn’t blame him. Not that you would have anyway.

He tightened the grip he had on your wrist and gently brought it away from his cheek before releasing it completely. He turned his head to look forward in the mirror in front of him and used the hand once holding your wrist to move the collar of his shredded jacket away from his shoulder. You winced as you saw the wounded skin there, bringing a hand up to do something but hesitating. Instead, you looked around the room before your eyes lit up as you found what you were looking for. You released his face from the hand still holding his cheek and turned around, taking a step forward with your good foot. He leaned forward, leaning off his right hand and using it to grab ahold of your wrist. You looked back at him.

“Stay,” he said simply and you smiled.

“I’m not going far.”

He held onto your wrist for a while longer before softly sliding it down to the tips of your fingers and slowly releasing you, all the while keeping eye contact. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks and turned before he could tell how flustered you were at the simple action. Taking another step, you tried to hide the limp in your walk and mask the pain on your face as you grabbed the materials and returned to where he was seated. Setting the medical supplies down next to him, you reached for the pillow behind him and took off the pillowcase surrounding it. Grabbing the mostly empty bottle of rubbing alcohol, you poured some onto the pillowcase before using one hand to pull the collar away to reveal the dirty wound underneath.

You raised your gaze to his eyes only to find them already looking back at you. “This’ll probably sting,” you told him sorrowfully. You waited a moment for him to acknowledge your words but he just continued to stare at you with a blank, yet almost soft, look. You used your other hand to hold the alcohol-soaked pillowcase and bring it up to his wound where you carefully started dabbing away the blood and dirt. Looking over at him every few seconds to see if he was in pain, you found none each time whilst he didn’t take his eyes off you. Once the blood was cleared away and the pillowcase was thoroughly stained, it was clear to see the wound was much smaller and less serious than it originally seemed. A fact that made you sigh in relief.

Before you could reach for the bandages to cover his wound with, Hyun-su grabbed your waist and pulled you to stand in between his legs.

“Wha-?” You started to question but stopped when his arms wrapped around your waist in a hug. His head turned to the side and he rested it against your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, albeit a little confused and startled.

“You know I love you, right?”

The sentence sounded slightly muffled, and you weren’t sure which version of Hyun-su was speaking, but regardless, you answered, “I know.”

His arms tightened around you, a comforting and promising squeeze. “And you know I’m never letting you go again,” he paused, turning to look up at you. It was both a surprise and yet not when you saw one of his eyes was still the bright blue he had in his monster form, but the other had returned to his natural brown. “Right?”

You placed your hands on his cheeks, leaning down to leave a tender kiss on his forehead.

“I know.”

1K notes · View notes

subskz · 1 year ago

Text

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 03

note: this is part 3 of a series (part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, themes of soulmates, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, slight jealousy, brief mentions of alcohol, sickness, academic stress, angst, hurt/comfort, crying, chan has a bit of a breakdown, bathing scene, nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, praise, possessiveness, biting/marking, the slightest hint of exhibitionism, chan is very needy, stopping in the middle of a scene, oral (reader receiving), lots of begging, crying during and after sex, nursing, handjob, aftercare

word count: 22.6k

There were parts of Chan in everything you did now.

It took a while, but eventually, it dawned on you with a strange sort of delight that you’d subconsciously taken on his habit of pressing his lips together into a thin line—when giving a quick smile, when lost in thought, and, most importantly, when silently dissatisfied. For such a subtle movement, you found that, at times, it expressed your frustration better than voicing it ever could. A Chan-like quality, through and through.

Likewise, he’d adopted your habit of reaching up to brush the tip of your nose whenever you felt self-conscious. Of all the quirks he could’ve picked up on, naturally, it had to be one he could make ample use of. Now, any time your gaze lingered on him for a bit longer than necessary (which admittedly, was often) his thumb would swipe over the adorable apex of his nose, a shy half-smile following the action like clockwork. It took some audacity, really, for him to steal a mannerism of yours and make it infinitely more endearing.

Even less obvious details were fair game for the two of you to snatch up, from mirroring each other’s walks, to parroting certain words and phrases. You’d melded into one another, so much that, in some cases, you weren’t quite sure which traits he’d gotten from you, and which traits you’d gotten from him.

You wondered if the marks you’d left on each other were what had landed you in the situation you found yourself in now.

“Betrayal! That’s what this is! A Sanrio pencil stabbed straight through my giant, loving heart!”

It had been a good five minutes of this. Changbin was back from summer break—skin tanned, hair fluffy, muscles somehow more defined than ever—and with the way his voice echoed shamelessly throughout the cafe, he was making sure everyone knew it. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to greet him properly before the one-man show (which you’d prepared for, but clearly not enough) began; starring none other than Seo Changbin himself, of course.

“Please calm down before you get us kicked out.”

“Calm down, she says!” he cried. “You’re a real scary person, y’know that? Hiding this from me, your good friend, Changbin—your best friend, Changbin—all this time!”

You felt a tinge of guilt for what wasn’t the first time. Despite the melodrama of it all, you knew that he had a point. There was no reason for you to have kept something like this from him for so long, especially when it involved not only one, but two of his closest friends.

“I’m sorry, Bin,” you sighed. “I really did wanna tell you. I was just worried it’d make everything so awkward.”

“Well, of course it’s awkward,” he agreed. “But I still want to know! At least that way, we can feel awkward together!”

Something about his reasoning made you soften. It was just like him, to be more concerned that he’d missed out on the chance of being a supportive friend rather than the potential mess that could stem from your involvement with Chan. You would probably do well to have a little more faith in people—a message the universe seemed to have been hammering into your brain a great deal lately.

“Maybe I would’ve told you if you’d talked to me more than once over your entire vacation,” you teased.

Changbin’s mouth fell open in protest, suddenly finding himself playing defense. “Twice!” he corrected indignantly. “And don't try to spin this on me! What about when you called me, huh? That was the perfect opportunity!”

“The perfect opportunity?” you echoed in disbelief. “In that case, I’ll be sure to follow up your birthday wishes next year with news that I’m dating your best friend.”

“Scary, scary person,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m almost afraid to ask for a hug—you’re not gonna put a knife in my back are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “What’s in the air back home that makes you act like this?”

Still, you felt nothing but fondness as you leaned fully into him, letting it sink in for the first time just how happy you were to see him again. With the way his big arms squeezed around you, you knew he wasn’t truly upset either—even if, quite frankly, he had a right to be.

“I missed you, though,” you patted his back. “You and all your drama.”

“Well, I missed you too,” he huffed. Just when you thought he might be ready to drop the theatrics and move on, he pulled away from the hug, a horrified look forming on his face.

“Oh my God…have I been third wheeling this entire time?”

“Get in line, Seo Changbin.”

His nagging and whining eventually died down, morphing into more playful jabs as the two of you ordered your drinks and found a table to sit at. Exactly as you’d predicted, once he’d recovered from the initial shock, he was all proud grins and smug righteousness, preaching on and on about how he’d told you so from day one and how you should never doubt him or his genius intuition ever again.

“I was mostly joking when I said all that stuff about you falling in love with him, y’know,” he clicked his tongue. “Didn’t think you’d actually go and do it.”

“I’m not in love with him,” you tried to retort, but much to your dismay, your voice cracked right as you uttered the dreaded word.

“No way,” Changbin broke out into cackles of pure glee. “Don’t tell me you went and had a secret wedding without me, too?”

You shoved your straw into your iced coffee with a bit too much force, face heating up. “The more you laugh, the more you sound like someone who isn’t getting his belated birthday present.”

At that, he clamped his jaws shut, giggles halting with a speed that was almost impressive. “Sorry, sorry,” he gave you a sheepish grin. “Behaving, now.”

“How’d you find out, anyway? Did Chan tell you?”

“Nah. Though, I should’ve guessed just from the way he gets whenever you’re brought up. All shy and smiley, it’s honestly kinda nauseating.”

He scrunched his nose up in distaste, but the words had no real edge to them. In fact, there was nothing but affection there. It made your heart skip a beat, embarrassingly enough, to know that just the mention of you was all it took to have that kind of effect on Chan. Every time you thought you couldn’t possibly be more taken by him, he proved you wrong.

“If not Chan, then who?” you hesitated before asking. “Minho?”

“Hey,” the whine was back in his voice. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe I figured it out myself?”

You said nothing, smiling around your straw and sipping contently away at your coffee.

“Yes, it was Minho,” he grumbled.

Though you’d been expecting it, the confirmation still made your skin crawl, overtaking Chan’s warmth with a cold discomfort. You hadn’t seen or heard from Minho since your encounter in the convenience store a few weeks ago, and each time you thought back to him, the pit of unease in your stomach grew stronger. You wondered just how much he’d told Changbin. Judging by his behavior that day, he seemed to be aware of everything—whether he was the type to mince his words, or to expose it all without a care in the world, you weren’t quite sure. Even if you’d spent more time around the guy before he’d decided to switch up on you, you got the feeling that you still wouldn’t have any clearer insight into how his mind worked.

“Speaking of Minho,” you began slowly. “Has he…said anything lately?”

Changbin snorted. “He’s said a lot of things.”

“Sorry. I mean, like, about me.”

“I don’t think so,” he squinted, eyeing you up and down. “Why? Are you planning on picking off my friends one by one?”

It was lighthearted, just a joke, but it nearly made you grimace. You’d be glad to never even cross paths with Minho again if it meant avoiding that harsh, accusatory glare that had yet to fade from your mind. Experiencing it once was more than enough.

“C’mon, Bin. It’s nothing like that.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what you said last time.”

You gave a half-hearted chuckle in response, only noticing a moment too late how unconvincing it’d come out. It caught his attention, and he glanced up from his drink to give you a curious look.

“Everything alright?”

You were reluctant to confide in Changbin about the matter, both to avoid burdening him with something so silly, and because of the very unavoidable fact that Minho was just as dear a friend to him as Chan. He’d only just found out about your relationship; immediately piling its potential problems on him was the last thing you wanted to do. At the same time, however, you figured it was better to ask someone who knew Minho well before you jumped to conclusions. Not to mention, Changbin might genuinely believe you were interested in rounding up all his friends if you didn’t clarify why you’d brought up the subject of Minho in the first place.

“I saw him a few weeks ago, and he was being kinda weird.”

“No issues there.”

“Not in his usual way, though—at least, I don’t think so?” you tried to be careful with your words, acutely aware of how sensitive you may come off if you chose the wrong ones. “I just got the feeling that he doesn’t really like me all that much. So, I was wondering if he’s brought it up with you.”

Changbin frowned, taking a moment to mull over what you’d said.

“You think Minho doesn’t like you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “What’d he say to you?”

“Just some weird things about me and Chan,” you shrugged. “It almost felt like he was trying to intimidate me, or something. Like, he thinks I have bad intentions.”

A troubled look crossed his face—brief, but just long enough to foster your unease. He went quiet for a few moments, nibbling thoughtfully on his bottom lip, then, at last, gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Nah, that can’t be it.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Minho knows you’re not like that,” he said simply. “And he wouldn’t just hate you for no reason, either. Definitely not it.”

You made a small noise of acknowledgement, pretending to understand what he meant, but Changbin still seemed to sense that he hadn’t gotten through to you.

“You’ve seen the way he acts around us, right? He’s probably just messing with you now that he feels more comfortable,” his voice mellowed. “He might seem difficult, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s a pretty great guy, actually. Soft at heart.”

“I believe you,” you murmured. You didn’t doubt for a second that he was a good friend to Changbin and Chan; you’d witnessed it firsthand in the time you’d spent around them. The problem was, you seemed to have done something to land yourself as the target of his inexplicable wrath, and you weren’t sure how to get yourself out of the line of aim before his eyes pierced an arrow straight through you.

“Maybe you’re right. I must’ve just misunderstood him.”

“He’s easy to misunderstand,” Changbin reassured you. An unpleasant thought appeared to cross his mind, twisting the small smile tugging at his lips right back into a frown. “Just…don’t tell him I said any of that. He didn’t put you up to this, did he?”

“Of course not,” you grinned. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Though you weren’t entirely sold on Changbin’s reasoning, it was at least worth a shot to reconcile with Minho before completely giving up on a positive relationship with him. It wasn’t even so much that you were hurt by his unexpected hostility, you just wanted to know what had caused it. You wanted to fix it.

In fact, you were determined to fix it. For both your sakes, and—most importantly—for Chan’s, you were going to make it right.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

College parties, as it turned out, were still very plainly, very aggressively, not your scene. Even with Chan and Changbin there, even with some of the most talented students on campus putting on performances that were, unsurprisingly, really, really good, even with the three-month long promise of getting to see 3RACHA live finally coming to fruition, you were having a hard time enjoying yourself.

You didn’t think it was possible to be experiencing this many different emotions at once. Every one of your senses was suffocated with something. The stinging smell of alcohol, the uncomfortable sheen of sweat on your skin, the perpetual ringing in your ears, the swarming mass of people, and the residual taste of artificial strawberry—the only refreshment you’d managed to take a few sips of before being swept away into the crowd over an hour ago. You were overwhelmed, you were exhilarated, you were anxious, you were impatient. You appeared completely calm amidst the chaos ensuing all around you, yet somehow, were more of a mess internally than even the most intoxicated of attendees.

You’d spent a majority of your time scattered, tossed amongst your friends at random intervals throughout the night. Fifteen minutes with Changbin before he and Jisung had retreated to the bathroom to practice their lyrics, twenty minutes with Iseul before she and her boyfriend had gotten into a heated argument about him not matching the energy of her dancing (something you were sure to get earful of later), thirty minutes with various friends from class before realizing in dismay that they consisted almost exclusively of touchy and crybaby drunks, and a mere five minutes with Chan.

Shortly after the party had begun, you’d arrived to find him already looking cheerfully exhausted. He’d been there for hours already, having offered to help the committee with all the setup and decorations for the event. Even once the festivities were in full swing, he was still dashing around the venue left and right, assisting with soundchecks and the transfer of equipment with hardly any time to prepare for his own performance, let alone to socialize. It warmed your heart as much as it tugged at it. Even on a night where he should be his own top priority, he was still bending over backwards to help everyone else but himself.

It lasted until he was all but forced to stop, dragged away by Changbin and Jisung to set up for 3RACHA’s showcase. The moment you’d been anticipating all night—all summer, really—the sole reason you were even putting up with an environment so out of your wheelhouse to begin with, came at last. The three men shuffled on to the makeshift stage with an awkward sort of swagger that you only ever saw in them when they were together. It was like each one of them needed the other two with him to lock properly into place, to align their energies and bring out the best in each other like a finely-tuned machine. In a way, that in itself was a testament to the song they’d be performing.

The familiar sirens you’d heard countless times before, pumping through your phone speakers in a personal concert, now blared through the hall for everyone to hear. Chan’s eyes fell from the screen of his laptop where he’d been getting things situated, landing directly on you without even having to search the crowd. He gave you a grin, dimples flashing, and that was the last you saw of it for the next three minutes and thirty seconds.

You’d already had an idea of what Jisung was capable of based on the handful of 3RACHA songs you’d heard, but to see it unfold in person was something entirely different. The goofy, scatterbrained junior that always looked a bit on-edge every time you spotted him, now rapping at the speed of light with each word flowing like torrents in a stream. Something about the way he read the lyrics directly off his phone, even for a performance like this, made it all the more mesmerizing to watch. He was the kind of person you could tell was a hidden genius.

Changbin became every bit as fierce and intimidating as you’d initially believed him to be the first day you’d met. Voice raspy and eyes dark, looking straight into the crowd almost like he was challenging them with each effortless line he spit out. It served as a reminder that all his drama and flair wasn't just something you could tease him for; it was something he could own the stage with, as well. His pride radiated off of him in waves; not only in himself, but in them as a unit, and every ounce of it was justified in your eyes.

Undoubtedly the most drastic transformation, however, was Chan. From the moment Zone began, the boy you’d come to know seemed to go dormant for a while, replaced with something you’d never quite seen in him before—something approaching confidence. You thought back to that day in the library, where you’d tried to imagine in amusement how someone like him, who could hardly look you in the eye while playing snippets of his Placebo instrumental, could be the one behind such powerful lines. You didn’t have to imagine it now. He had the least parts out of the trio—you were certain he’d chosen Zone as a way to give Jisung and Changbin more time to shine—but he made just as great of an impact. You could feel the effects of it, on you and everyone else around you. There was no question about it; he belonged there.

By the time the performance was over, you could add a few new emotions to the ones swirling inside you: happiness, pride, and something else you couldn’t quite place. You found Changbin amidst the sea of people first, weaving and dodging through the crowd until you reached him, or, rather, crashed directly into him. His face broke out into a wide smile as soon as he realized it was you, barely getting the chance to say anything before you pulled him into a hug.

“So?” you could hear the giddiness in his voice as he gave you a tight squeeze.

“You killed it, Bin! That’s gotta be the best you've ever sounded,” you hoped he could hear your praises over the pandemonium. “You gonna remember me when you’re famous?”

He pulled away with a laugh, lifting his chin in—mostly—feigned bravado. “I’ll consider it,” his eyes sparkled. “Did you notice the new move I did?”

“Obviously,” you imitated his stylish salute with two fingers, and his smile grew even wider. “And what’s with that sound you made at the start of your verse?”

“It’s my new signature!” he declared.

“So cool! You’re so cool, Seo Changbin!” You threw a hand over your heart with a giggle, and he bumped his shoulder against yours, suddenly embarrassed.

If he said something in response, you didn’t quite catch it, effectively losing all focus the instant your eyes caught sight of a group of people gathered nearby. Chan was at its center, grinning from ear to ear as he tried to keep up with everyone’s chattering all at once. A visual of him you’d pictured so many times before, now right before your eyes—a charming, social butterfly who made befriending others look as simple as breathing. It truly sank in at that moment, that the boy who’d come to mean so much to you in so little time, had a whole other side to his world that you didn’t even know of. The view of his thousand-watt smile wasn’t for your eyes alone, the pieces of himself that he put into his music weren’t solely for your ears.

It made your heart sing; he should be adored. But at the same time, that sensation from earlier made its presence known once again. The girl next to him, the head organizer for the event, if you remembered correctly, reached out to touch his arm as she laughed. Her hand lingered for a moment too long, a look you knew all too well swimming in her eyes.

Oh. Suddenly, the mystery feeling wasn’t so much of a mystery anymore.

Something ignited deep within you, completely different from the familiar heat Chan set off in your skin. It was immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. You weren’t the type to bristle over something so small—at least, you’d never thought you were. You wanted to blame it on something; the fact that you hadn’t seen Chan for most of the night, the fact that it felt a bit too reminiscent of what he used to do whenever you’d dared to take your attention off of him for even a moment. But Chan would never even think to pull anything like that, it went against his nature. His nature just so happened to entail being adored wherever he went.

You knew it was nothing more than that same selfishness that had reared its head the night you’d first slept together. Not quite insecurity, and not quite jealousy. It was rooted in something much simpler: a matter of what felt right, and what didn’t. You’d wanted to be done with the troublesome feeling from the moment you’d first encountered it—to nip it in the bud before it sprouted into something uglier—but just like everything about your relationship with Chan, it was out of your hands. It was inevitable. With the wholeness that came with his presence, an emptiness was left in his absence.

“Oh my God,” Changbin’s exasperated voice cut through the music, and, in turn, the thoughts swarming your head. “Stare any harder and he might just burst into flames.”

You blinked, embarrassment increasing tenfold. “Sorry, Binnie,” you muttered. “What were you saying?”

He gave you a knowing nudge. “Just go talk to him so I don’t have to look at your lovesick face anymore.”

“Not lovesick,” you protested, but the way your eyes darted right back to Chan did nothing to help your case. You found him staring at you this time, his overwhelmed beam shifting into something softer, sweeter—a look of relief. He dismissed himself from the group just as your feet were preparing, almost reflexively, to pull you in his direction. You turned to give Changbin another apologetic glance, only for him to roll his eyes and gesture for you to leave.

“I need to find Jisung, anyway,” he told you. “Talking to more than one stranger at a time probably has him looking for an escape route.”

Promising to meet up with him again later, you parted ways, a strange sense of calm washing over you as you came face to face with Chan at last. The pungent smell in the air was replaced with his fresh citrus, the clamoring sounds around you suddenly much quieter in your ears, as if waiting with bated breath to hear what he had to say.

“Hey, you,” he grinned.

“Hi, Channie,” you held out your hands, skin tingling when he rested his palms against yours. Slightly clammy from the adrenaline rush of the performance, but soft to the touch. Warm as ever.

“So, were you ever planning on telling me that you’re a shapeshifter?”

“A shapeshifter?” he giggled, more melodic than any of the music you’d heard that night.

“Those moves? The growling?” you marveled. “Even the way you carried yourself; you really know how to put on a show.”

Chan’s fingers—topped off with black nail polish, you noticed for the first time—twitched in your hands, resisting the urge to reach up and adjust his cap, tug at his ear, swipe over his nose, do something to try and alleviate his embarrassment.

“Did you like it? Or was it too much? I know this one’s your favorite, so…”

…I hope I didn’t mess it up. You could hear the words on the tip of his tongue without him even finishing. They were clear in every nervous flicker in his expression, every awkward shift in his feet.

“Are you kidding?” you rubbed your thumb along the back of his hand. “You were made for this.”

The flashing lights around you illuminated his face just in time for you to see his eyes widen. It almost made you sad—the genuine shock etched into his features.

“Ah…” he ducked his head, speechless. Suddenly, you completely understood why he’d been reluctant to ask you to attend the showcase. You should’ve known by now; Chan didn’t have to play coy to endear you, he accomplished that just fine by simply being himself.

“You really think so?” He kept his stare glued to the floor.

“Of course. Everyone else can see it, too,” you added. “I’m really proud of you, Channie.”

His cap hid his expression from your view, but you were certain that his brilliant smile was there—the one you loved so much, the one so wide that it couldn’t be contained, swelling his cheeks and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Thank you,” it was meek, barely audible above the roar of the crowd. “That means a lot.”

You wanted to dip your head under the brim of his hat and meet his gaze, to let him know just how much you meant it. You wanted to kiss him, unconcerned with the people around you who might see—in fact, it only strengthened the desire, the chance to witness his cute, flustered reaction to a public display like that.

Your hesitation lasted a split second too long, however, as you spotted a fresh group of people approaching the two of you; some faces recognizable, some entirely new. You kept your smile as they made their way over with shouts and cheers, but your hand gripped Chan’s just a bit tighter.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Tonight was full of firsts for you, it seemed.

Attending a university party without leaving within the first hour, mingling with more people than you’d ever thought existed on campus, and now, as you currently were, lacking so much in self-control that you were pressed up against Chan in the venue bathroom.

You weren’t quite sure how you’d ended up there, the only thing you were sure of was the slew of emotions leading into it. Chan could tell that you were antsy, and, maybe, he was feeling antsy too. The number of times you’d been separated throughout the night only to drift right back to each other was too many to count. It got to the point where the final time it happened, you’d opted for linking arms to avoid getting lost again.

You wanted to go home—you’d been more than ready to from the moment 3RACHA had finished performing—and you would’ve gladly left Chan to enjoy the rest of the event with his endless rotation of friends if it weren’t for the fact that every time you were apart for too long, he’d go looking for you. At first, you’d tried to tell him not to worry himself over whether or not you were having fun, but eventually, you realized with a flutter in your chest that it wasn’t just his usual attentiveness at play; he wanted you next to him.

When he’d asked if you wanted to retreat somewhere quieter for a bit, it had been innocent enough. You didn’t think he’d expected things to head in this direction—you certainly hadn’t. With your vigilance and his shyness, neither of you were exactly the type.

“This okay?”

“Mhm,” he breathed against your lips. The faint pounding of the bass outside could still be heard through the bathroom door, but you were much more fixated on Chan’s racing heartbeat.

“You look—mmph—so pretty tonight,” he slurred. “Been wanting to kiss you.”

His voice still had the faintest rasp to it after the strain of performing, exciting you more than it probably should’ve. “You’re so sweet,” you cooed, pressing a peck to the corner of his mouth. “How do you think I felt seeing you up on that stage?”

He made a soft noise, unable to protest when you took his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking delicately and making him melt into you. His mouth fell open for you to devour freely. His hands, which had been hovering uncertainly over your hips, rested on them at last. From the way his fingers constricted around your clothes, you knew he was itching to bring you closer; he always was.

“You don’t believe me?” You pulled back just slightly, tugging at his plush skin between your teeth as you did. He tasted sweet, even sweeter than usual. The same artificial strawberry you’d tried earlier in the night. Gently, you used your hold on his cheeks to turn his head in the direction of the mirror.

Chan’s eyes fell instantly, avoiding his reflection like second nature.

“Look at yourself, Channie,” you encouraged. “I want you to see what I see.”

A quiet whine built in his throat, but he complied nonetheless, meeting his own, timid gaze in the mirror. You let your hands slip from his cheeks to give him a clear view of his face, shifting your position so that you stood behind him, admiring the view together.

“Pretty boy,” you drawled, running your hands along his shoulders. “For someone who’s so good at reading people, you’re clueless about how bad they really want you.”

He tensed up, a breathy chuckle escaping him. “What?”

“You didn’t notice?” You tilted your head. “That's okay. It’s cute, actually.”

Your lips found his neck, breath fanning over his warm skin in a way that made goosebumps rise to the surface. Keeping your eyes locked on his reflection, you pressed a trail of kisses down his throat, doing little to hide how high your emotions were running.

“D-did something bother you?” he stuttered out, and if you hadn’t known him any better, you might’ve thought he was trying to tease you. Hearing him say it out loud nearly made you cringe at yourself. It was so trivial, so ridiculous. You didn’t want him to see that side of you—a side you’d hardly even known you had before tonight. Still, the burning sensation had grown too strong for you to ignore anymore, with each suggestive touch or longing glance thrown Chan's way serving as fuel to the fire.

“Why would I be bothered?” you said at last. “They don’t get to see you like this.” His breath hitched as you grazed your teeth along his skin. “Or hear you like this. Do they?”

“N-no,” he agreed. “Just you.”

Just you. You wondered if he’d said it knowing full well the kind of effect it would have on you.

“Do you like all the attention?”

He pressed his lips together, averting his eyes from the mirror again. It was subtle, but you could’ve sworn his hips jutted forward just a bit.

“I like your attention,” he said softly.

Another perfect answer from a perfect boy. Your hands fell from his shoulders, sliding down his body to give his waist a squeeze through the thin material of his shirt. “You deserve it,” you licked a stripe up his neck. “All of it. Who wouldn’t go crazy over you when you look like this?”

“I…” He bit his lip, no doubt to hold back what he really wanted to say. “Please, ‘m getting shy.”

You were almost tempted to grab hold of his chin and tilt his head up, giving him no choice other than to take in the breathtaking sight of himself. But judging by his bright red ears and restless squirming under your palms, he was flustered enough already—so much that you worried it may actually mortify him to face his appearance on top of your praises reverberating in his mind. Instead, you pressed more wet kisses to his neck, hands roaming further down his body and feeling up the expanse of his stomach, right above the waistband of his pants. He whimpered, pushing his hips forward much more noticeably this time.

“It’ll be bad if we get caught,” you hummed. “Keep quiet, Channie.”

Chan sucked in a sharp breath as you ran your tongue along his ear. You took his hoop piercing between your teeth, tugging at it in a gentle, but deliberate taunt.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “You know I can't.”

You smiled deviously around the silver. “I know.”

The sound of your voice was nothing short of intoxicating, smooth and sultry and pooling heat in his abdomen at an alarmingly quick rate. Your fingers traced over the buttons of his jeans, playing with them in a tortuous dance, but not quite popping them open. The material was already starting to feel tight around him, and when you fully cupped the area without warning, his mouth fell open to spill out a shaky moan.

Your heart jumped; he was so sensitive, reduced to the flushed, noisy mess you saw before you with just a few touches and kisses. You thought back to what he’d said that night—about how it’d been a while—a small part of you wondering if that was the real reason, or if he was just always this reactive. It thrilled you like nothing else, the prospect of him being so vocal, so vulnerable to every bit of stimulation no matter how many times he’d felt it before.

“Maybe that’s what you want? For everyone to hear all these pretty sounds you make for me.”

You dragged your tongue up from his lobe, swirling it around the shell of his ear and practically tasting the heat radiating off the reddened skin. Frantically, Chan tried to mask another moan, hands gripping the sink for support.

“No—ah—just you. Only for you.”

“Only me?” You gave him a squeeze, curling your fingers around his growing bulge and making him shudder against you. “Should I make sure they know that?”

He peeked up at last from under the brim of his cap, eyes already so foggy, lips already puffed. Your mouth traveled down from his ear, pressing a kiss right to the junction of his shoulder and neck. A light hiccup escaped him when your front teeth tickled the flesh, threatening to bite down in full.

“Can I?” you checked.

Chan leaned in further so that nearly all his weight was resting against the sink, knees weakening at the mere thought of what you were going to do. “Yeah,” he gasped. “Please.”

“It’ll show,” you warned, basking in the feel of his pulse beneath your lips.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want it to.”

Any composure you had left was no match for the desperation in his voice. He always knew exactly what to say—or, rather, anything he said was exactly what you wanted to hear, solely because it came from him. Without wasting another moment, you sank your teeth into his neck, wrapping your lips around the patch of skin to create a hot, delicious suction that nearly made Chan fold in half.

He squeezed his eyes shut, a sharp cry escaping him despite his best efforts. You tightened your grasp on him in an attempt to keep him steady, but the added pressure to his length only seemed to make things worse. He whimpered something incoherent, hips rolling forward to grind into your palm—uncharacteristically shameless of him.

You sucked to your heart’s content, nibbling and running your tongue along the sensitive area until you were certain a mark would be left behind for days to come. When you finally released his flesh from between your teeth, Chan was all but panting, face scrunched up with pleasure and bulge twitching in your hand. You gave the mark a delicate lick, soothing the flared skin while he caught his breath.

“Mine.”

It sent a shiver down his spine. Just as you were preparing to sully a new spot on his neck, a sudden knock on the bathroom door made you both freeze in place. His body stiffened against yours, head shooting up in a panic.

“Is anyone in here?” a girl’s voice came muffled through the distant rumble of the music.

The doorknob wobbled, and you steeled yourself to respond, knowing that Chan was in absolutely no state to.

“Yeah, just a minute!” you called, throwing out the first excuse you could conjure. “My friend’s feeling a bit sick.”

Carefully, to avoid drawing out any more questionable noises from the boy, you pulled your hand away from his crotch and peeled yourself off of him. He straightened up as best he could, blinking rapidly to clear the haze from his eyes. Guilt pricked at you, among other things, for allowing the situation to get to this point, but even as Chan urgently tried to adjust himself so the hardness in his pants would be less obvious, he didn’t look upset—not in the slightest. He gave you a sheepish half-smile when he met your gaze, eyes gleaming with pure, unfettered adoration.

You smoothed out your clothes, trying to ignore the very prominent ache between your legs.

“Sorry, Channie,” you murmured. “I guess I got carried away.”

His fingers brushed tentatively over the mark you’d left, cheeks matching the shade of his ears. “S’alright,” he licked his lips. “I like it.”

He had to stop saying that—for the sake of your sanity, if nothing else. You cleared your throat, reminding yourself that there was, in fact, some poor soul out there waiting impatiently for the restroom.

“And all the…possessive stuff I—” you paused. “I hope it wasn’t too much.”

“Too much?” he cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t notice?”

A repeat of your question from earlier. You went quiet for a moment, trying to decode the meaning behind it. Everything that had transpired throughout the course of the evening flooded your thoughts at once: the fixed stares from across the room, the hand-holding, the arm-linking, the search for you every time you strayed too far. Butterflies fluttered to life your stomach the instant you wrapped your head around it.

“Oh.”

His giggles mixed with yours, light and timid. How very like him, to admit so openly to the exact feeling you’d been hoping to hide. Hiding with him was a fruitless endeavor, anyway.

You rested your hand on his lower back, reaching for the handle with your other. “Look sick,” you whispered.

Chan leaned over slightly, masking both the lingering flush on his cheeks and the blossoming lovebite on his neck. On the opposite side of the door, you found none other than the event organizer standing there, watching the two of you inquisitively as you shuffled out of the bathroom. You gave her a polite dip of your head, and Chan offered a quick greeting as you ushered him along. You weren’t proud of it, but any self-consciousness you’d felt before was instantly overtaken by that selfish satisfaction.

As the two of you re-entered the fray, your hand slid down from Chan’s back, allowing him to walk normally again—or, as normally as he could when he was still very much trying to ebb the arousal you’d set off in him. He flexed his fingers as they brushed against yours, lacing them together before you could even think to pull away.

By some miracle, you managed to locate the other two thirds of 3RACHA with just a bit of sifting through the crowd. The relief was short-lived, however, alarm gripping you in its place when you noticed who was standing with them. Lee Minho.

It was no surprise that he was there, but you’d somehow managed to go the entire night without catching so much as a single glimpse of him. A part of you had been grateful for it, but the other part was also itching to see him. Ever since your conversation with Changbin, you’d become more and more ashamed about the way you’d acted with Minho in the convenience store. He’d rubbed you the wrong way, sure, but you were certain that your reaction had only made the situation worse. This was your chance to fix it, to dodge the arrow before he could finish drawing back his string.

“It’s completely different,” you heard him insist as you and Chan approached the group. He was engaged in what appeared to be a very serious debate with a very confused Jisung. “It’s like iced coffee versus hot coffee that’s been out for too long; they’re both cold, but one’s supposed to be, the other isn’t.”

Jisung blinked, lips parting and closing several times over the next few seconds. You’d never quite witnessed someone’s thought process unfolding in real time like that before. Even if you’d caught the full discussion between the two, the look on his face told you that you still wouldn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going on.

“I’ll be honest, man, you lost me three analogies ago.”

Minho clicked his tongue, looking ready to drop another equally convoluted explanation. Instead, he fell silent when he spotted you, the delighted smirk of someone who knew he was being difficult transforming into something much harsher, much less natural. It nearly made you wince. You’d never been particularly close with the guy, but you’d thought you were at least reaching a point where he’d grown comfortable enough to approach you with the same casualness he did with the rest of his friends. It bothered you more than you wanted to admit, that the first sign of friendship sprouting between you had been trampled on for reasons that you didn’t even know, nor comprehend.

His stare flickered between you and Chan, and you prayed desperately that the dim lighting of the hall would be enough for the fresh mark you’d left on Chan’s neck to escape Minho’s scrutiny. He narrowed his eyes, and your heartbeat picked up. So far, not off to a great start.

Still, you swallowed—your misgivings, and your pride—and flashed him a quick smile.

“Hi, Minho.”

No response, just a nod. Something told you that you were lucky to get even that out of him. He turned his head, planning to continue his debate with Jisung without addressing you any further, but the other boy had already been sucked into a high-energy conversation with Chan and Changbin about ways they could improve future performances.

“Can we talk?” you tried to keep your volume low, just enough for him to hear without catching the attention of the others.

He studied you with an impressive lack of interest, and for a moment, you thought he might really go the rest of the night without uttering a word around you.

“Why?”

“I just want to clear the air. I feel like we kinda had a misunderstanding the other day.”

“Maybe on your end,” he said curtly. “I understand what’s going on just fine.”

You took a breath, forcing yourself to remain open-minded. “Maybe,” you agreed. “So, could you tell me what I’m missing about all this?”

Wordlessly, he brought his cup to his lips, fixing you with unblinking eyes the entire time he drank, like you might lash out and attack him if he let his guard down for even a second. You managed to hold his gaze, but that same chill from before began to creep up your spine. It was so intense—and for what? Anyone who saw the way he was looking at you might think the two of you were involved in some kind of centuries-long blood feud between your families.

Even after he’d swallowed, he said nothing, and you felt your patience slip just a bit.

“If I’ve done something wrong, or if I’ve upset you somehow, please let me know,” you added.

“Upset me?” he hummed. “Yeah, actually, you did.”

You tensed.

“When you said I wasn’t funny, it really hurt my feelings,” he announced. “Apologize with flowers and tears, and maybe I’ll forgive you.”

It almost sounded like his usual manner of joking around, but your glimmer of hope was put out by that same, cold expression. You tried not to lose sight of your goal, clinging to what Changbin had told you in the cafe. He’s easy to misunderstand.

“Minho,” you began lightly. “I’m being serious here.”

His eyes glinted under the flashing lights. “So am I.”

You allowed your face to drop at last, realizing right then and there that he had no intention of even telling you what you’d done wrong—let alone giving you the chance to make amends with him.

“What, you don’t like that idea?” he feigned hurt. “Maybe you’d rather get on your hands and knees and ask for forgiveness?”

You bristled. “That’s enough.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. A look almost akin to gratification crossed his features, like a crack in your demeanor was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

“Hm. Guess you’re not really sorry, after all.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, okay? Even as a joke.”

“I’d be glad not to talk to you at all,” he shot back. “But it seems you have nothing better to do than pick fights with me.”

Unbelievable. You had to stop yourself from clenching your fists, solely because of the fact your hand was still loosely clasped with Chan’s.

“Pick fights?” you repeated. “I’m trying to fix things between us!”

“There’s nothing between us to fix.”

The way he said it was strange, pointed. You were positive there was a deeper meaning to it, almost like he was implying that there was something for you to fix, just not with him. It planted an unpleasant thought in your mind—or, rather, watered the seed of an idea that was already rooted deep within it.

You’d managed to keep your voice hushed thus far to avoid causing a scene, but the building tension finally seemed to reach a tipping point, enough to catch Chan’s attention. He put his chatter with Jisung and Changbin on hold to give you a curious glance, and, as irritated as you were with Minho’s provocation, you smiled back at him.

“You alright?” he gave your hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, eyes darting momentarily in Minho’s direction. He’d turned away from you as soon as the opportunity had presented itself, going right back to talking with Jisung as if your conversation had never even happened. At least one part of what he’d said had been straightforward—he clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

“You’re friends with some pretty weird people, y’know that?”

Chan grinned. “Birds of a feather.”

Your spirits lifted a bit, taking comfort in the fact that he at least seemed oblivious to the altercation that had just taken place. Still, it was a shallow relief. You knew now, with complete certainty, that Minho wasn’t going to make things easy for you.

Of course he wouldn’t. Nothing was ever that easy.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

One month into the fall semester of your senior year, the academic distractions that you’d been longing for all summer were now upon you. Perhaps, even, a bit more intensely than you’d have liked.

Your classes were manageable enough—a significant improvement over the hellscape that was Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics—but the amount of time and effort your research lab demanded more than made up for what might’ve been an easy final term. When you weren’t attending your lectures or completing assignments, you were practically living in the astrophysics lab; analyzing spectroscopic measurements, reconstructing images from interferometric data, observing optical maps of the interstellar medium, and, on top of all that, sitting through countless meetings with your team.

It was as fulfilling as it was exhausting, and though you were more than happy to finally get some hands-on experience in your field of study, you couldn’t help but feel a bit wistful about this new routine as well. Your Experimental Physics II section with Changbin only took place once a week as opposed to the biweekly Thermodynamics lectures, and that, coupled with the lack of study sessions and your limited free time meant you were seeing him much less often than before. It was even worse in the cases of Chan and Iseul, both of which you rarely saw on campus to begin with. Even with Iseul more or less still treating your apartment as her second home, and Chan being his usual, relentlessly considerate self—never going too long without checking in on you—they were both busy with their respective capstone projects as well, leaving your interactions fewer and further between in comparison to the spring.

You knew it wasn’t rational, but it almost frightened you how such minor shifts in your daily life could feel so jarring, especially when graduation, the greatest shift of all, was looming on the horizon. The sands of time were trickling along without a care in the world, changing things little by little until they were unrecognizable. Some for the better, some for worse.

You’d thought you were handling the gaps in your time spent with Chan fairly well; that was, until it dawned on you halfway through September just how often your mind would drift to him while working on your research. Every new set of spectral line data or roAp star photometric variations had you visualizing what his reactions might be—his gleaming eyes that captivated you more than any of the stars you were observing, his voice growing shaky with excitement as he tried to discuss your observations without pausing every few seconds just to gush about how cool it all was.

You weren’t pleased with the number of instances your lab partners had caught you grinning to yourself in the middle of running tests and collecting data, giddy over the mere thought of his presence. As it turned out, Changbin hadn’t been too far off when he’d labeled you as lovesick.

Summoned by your thoughts, your phone vibrated against your desk to signal a text from none other than Changbin. You placed down your pencil in defeat, accepting the fact that you weren’t going to be getting any work done at this rate—daydreaming about how often you were daydreaming about Chan should’ve been indication enough.

bin 😑 (2:03 p.m.) number 5???

You blinked at your screen, dumbfounded.

bin 😑 (2:04 p.m.) number 5 pls pretty pls

you (2:04 p.m.) i sent you number 5 yesterday?

bin 😑 (2:06 p.m.) oh ;;; number 6 pls~~~

you (2:06 p.m.) i think i deserve an honorable mention on ur diploma

bin 😑 (2:07 p.m.) get me thru this hmwk and i’ll make it happen one for you and one for chan ><

The thought of it nearly made you laugh out loud: Changbin, trying to charm his way through the dean’s office to make a proposal as ridiculous as that. You didn’t doubt that he might try it, or that he might actually succeed in doing so.

Shuffling through your papers, you snapped a picture of your assignment, barely managing to fit the entirety of the required work in one shot.

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) thank uuu oh speaking of chan lol u know he’s sick?

you (2:10 p.m.) what???

bin 😑 (2:10 p.m.) i knew it he didn’t tell you -_-

You felt a pang of worry, countless questions filling your head at once. It’d been a day or two since you’d contacted Chan, even longer since you’d seen him in person—definitely over a week by now. The last time you’d talked hadn’t been over a phone call like usual; you’d texted him just to see how he was doing, and after a short chat he’d promised to meet up with you sometime the next week. It had been unusual, but not unusual enough for you to overthink it, especially considering how swamped the both of you were.

you (2:12 p.m.) how long has he been sick for?

bin 😑 (2:13 p.m.) couple days? actually more like a week now

Worry twisted into a sense of dread. Why hadn’t he told you?

You didn’t have to question it for long. You knew why—anyone who knew Chan well enough could piece it together with ease.

bin 😑 (2:14 p.m.) he hasn’t gone to class for a few days ㅜ you should visit him if you can

you (2:14 p.m.) yeah, i definitely will thanks for letting me know binnie

If your homework had been an afterthought before, it was long forgotten now. You didn’t bother to clean up your workspace before rising from your chair, leaving the scattered notes and eraser shavings for you to deal with later.

You weren’t sure what you were experiencing as you made your way over to your kitchen, digging around for ginger and garlic and praying that you’d have enough. It was an overreaction, probably, but you berated yourself regardless; for not noticing that something was wrong, for not pressing harder when asking how he’d been, for not questioning the longer periods of time you’d gone without talking. You’d wanted to give him his space, but for it to go as far as him thinking he shouldn’t tell you that he was sick—sick to the point where he couldn’t attend class, stirred something awful in you.

The pot nearly slipped from your hands in all your haste to prepare your materials, and you took a breath, forcing yourself to relax before you set fire to your apartment. Still, the concern, the guilt, didn’t die down. You were so accustomed to being in-tune with every aspect of your relationships, be it friends, family, or romantic partners, making note of every little detail, every subtle shift; sometimes before they themselves could even realize it. But for what was neither the first nor the last time, you had to remind yourself that this was Chan you were dealing with. Of course he wouldn’t tell you—he wouldn’t tell you anything that he believed might cause you even the slightest inconvenience. He would do whatever it took, go to any lengths imaginable, just to avoid committing the unforgivable sin of letting you care about him. It was the complete opposite of everything you'd come to understand about the world, the people around you, and it put you in a position that you weren’t sure you wanted to be in.

You weren’t going to stand idly by, watching him board his openings shut before anyone could catch a glimpse of what was inside, watching him burden himself with the fear of burdening others. Whatever had happened in the past for him to reach that point, you wanted to suck it out like poison until there wasn’t a single drop left in his system. You were going to be there for him, whether he liked it or not.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

His face was the last thing you’d expected to see when the door to unit 8-325 swung open.

Realistically, it shouldn’t have been. He did live there, after all. Like the annoying troll under the bridge that wouldn’t let you pass unless you answered his riddles three. It took everything in you not to make a face as you were met with Minho standing in the doorframe. He, of course, didn’t extend that same courtesy to you, eyes narrowing into an unmistakable grimace when he laid them on you.

“What do you want?”

“Hi to you, too,” you muttered.

His expression didn’t change, and, much to your disdain, you once again found yourself mesmerized by that gaze of his. You hated how effective it was; unreadable, yet communicating a thousand things all at once. Even if he really was as harmless as Changbin claimed, even if his cold glares and cutting comments were the extent of what he could do to you, your skin crawled all the same.

When you saw that he wasn’t planning on dignifying you with a response, you inched forward, expecting to be let inside. That would simply be too easy, though. Minho shifted so that his body blocked your path, pulling the door closer to him for good measure.

“Chan’s sick,” he deadpanned.

You paused, blown away for a moment by his audacity. “I know he’s sick,” you gritted your teeth. “I’m here to check on him.”

You might’ve sworn you saw the corner of his lips start to twitch, but you tore your eyes away too quickly to be certain. The last thing this man needed was whatever kind of ego boost he’d get from you paying a little too much attention to his features.

“Not much you can do,” he dismissed, voice light and airy as ever. “Unless you think gracing him with your presence is gonna make him all better.”

It was your turn to shoot Minho a glare, foot darting out just in time to prevent him from shutting the door in your face. Wordlessly, you lifted the container of galbitang into his view.

He raised an eyebrow, the closest thing to a genuine reaction you could get from him. “Changed your major to the medical route?”

“I don’t see you doing anything to help him,” you snapped.

Your patience was already minimal when it came to this guy, but ever since you’d confronted him at the event in August, it seemed like he’d made it his personal mission to run it as thin as possible every time you interacted with him. It was kind of impressive, really, the way he knew exactly how to push every last one of your buttons with ease.

Fresh out of half-assed excuses, Minho shrugged, as if he’d never even cared in the first place. He let go of the door handle, and you took that as a sign to push past him and slip inside.

You removed your shoes as quickly as you could, not wanting to spend another second around him if you could help it. Knowing that Changbin wasn’t home, you stalked past the kitchen and through the living room, the soothing scent of freshly-brewed yuja tea flooding your nostrils as you did. It almost made you feel bad about what you’d said to Minho, but you knew better than to apologize for it now—if you’d come to learn anything, it was that your peace offerings would be met with even more hostility than your provocation. Instead, you padded down the hallway, heading straight for Chan’s room.

Careful not to lose your grip on the container in your hands, you managed to give his door a light knock. A few seconds passed before you heard a faint “come in”, muffled by the sound of what was sure to be a pile of blankets. You braced yourself, recovering from your Minho-induced rise in blood pressure, then slipped inside, shutting the door quietly behind you.

Chan blinked his eyes open just in time to see you approaching his bed. They were foggy, even more exhausted than usual, and they widened slightly when he registered who was standing before him.

“Hi, Channie,” you whispered. “Were you sleeping?”

“N-no, I—” his voice came strained and hoarse, so different from his pleasant, melodic lilt that you had trouble believing it was really him speaking for a second. “I was already awake.”

You rolled his desk chair over to the side of the bed, placing your container of galbitang on his nightstand next to the half-finished cup of tea and army of empty water bottles. He watched, stunned, as you sat down next to him, still trying to process what was going on.

“Um…how did you—?”

“Seo Changbin,” you hummed.

A weak smile formed on his face. “Bin…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright,” he croaked, not sounding alright at all. “Guess when you told me to look sick I took it a little too seriously, yeah?”

You let out a light giggle, and he tried to join you, only to spiral right into a violent coughing fit instead. It made your heart twist with sympathy, and you reached out to brush back his messy curls, resting your palm on his forehead. His skin was burning, and not in its normal way—if you could even call the amount of body heat he carried with him normal. It was heavy and sticky and pulsing, like you could physically feel the ache plaguing his head.

“Ah, wait,” he warned. “You shouldn’t touch me, you’ll catch it.”

I don’t care. You almost wanted to say it without restraint, but you settled for something more tactful, something less pointlessly dramatic. “You wouldn’t get me sick, would you?”

He flashed you another feeble smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry you have to see me like this,” he rasped, shrinking into the covers so that his face was only half visible.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie,” you ran your fingers gently through his hair. “I just wish you’d told me. How long have you been sick?”

The feeling seemed to relax him, weary eyes drooping just a bit as your nails grazed his scalp. “It’s only been like this for a few days,” he hesitated. “But I first started feeling it last week. Minho thinks it’s the flu.”

You stopped combing through his hair, letting your hand simply rest atop his head. He seemed to sense your disapproval, eyes peeking up at you from beneath the comforter to meet your frowning face.

“It’s not that bad, though,” he tried to assure you. “Just a cough and some headaches.”

“Bin said you haven’t been able to go to class.”

Chan sucked in through his teeth; caught. You sent out a silent apology to Changbin, realizing a split second too late that you’d probably set him up for a scolding as soon as Chan could speak without sounding like he had gravel in his throat.

“I just didn’t want you to worry,” he explained sheepishly. “Especially when you’ve been so busy.”

“I’m always thinking of you, anyway,” you countered, only half-joking. “So, please don’t hide stuff like this from me, okay? That’ll only make me worry more.”

For a moment, he stayed silent, and you got the feeling that your words hadn’t quite gotten through to him. Regardless, he eventually gave you a tiny nod.

“Promise?” you pressed.

“Promise.”

He didn’t hold out his pinky this time to seal the deal, but you chose not to dwell on it considering the fact that his hands were buried under layers upon layers of blankets. Instead, you gave his head one last pat and reached for the thermos on the nightstand.

“Can you eat?”

His face lit up at the sight of the galbitang. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I haven’t eaten yet today, actually.”

You frowned, biting back an exasperated comment. Even if his horribly skewed priorities frustrated you more than anything else—touching a part of you buried so deep within that you yourself couldn’t fully grasp it—you’d visited Chan with the intent of helping him, not lecturing him. There was no changing the outcome now, anyway. All you could do was try and make things a little easier for him, to balance out his determination to create new obstacles for himself as quickly as you could break them down.

“It should still be warm, but I can go heat it up if you’d like?” you were reluctant to ask, not keen on the possibility of seeing Minho again.

“No, no, s’alright,” he shuffled around in the sheets, trying to sit himself upright against the pillows. “I’ll eat it like this.”

As soon as his protective pile of covers slipped down his torso, he was shuddering. Even with the hoodie he was wearing, chills passed through his entire body, so strong that you could visibly see how his shoulders shook.

“Oh my God, Channie,” your voice softened to a tone that he’d only ever heard you use with him, one that soothed his pounding head. “You’re really sick, aren’t you?”

He attempted to say something in response—to deny it despite every cell in his body screaming otherwise—but between his sniffles and chattering teeth, it was hard to make out. You reached out with your free hand and pulled the covers back up his chest, draping them over his shoulders so that just his head and neck were exposed. Chan blinked at you, the confusion on his face morphing into subtle panic when he understood what you were planning.

“Ah…you don’t,” he coughed. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” You unscrewed the lid and unlatched the spoon from its side. “I want to, actually. If it’s okay with you.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you—the flush that crept up on his cheeks, even more visible than usual with how little color there was to his sickly complexion.

“Okay,” he averted his eyes. “Yeah, thank you.”

You scooped up a portion of the soup, making sure to gather a good mix of ingredients for him, then brought it up to his lips. He blew out puffs of air a few times before taking the spoon into his mouth, still refusing to meet your gaze.

Despite his awkwardness, a cute hum followed. “This is really good.”

“That’s how I know you’re sick.”

He giggled gently, careful not to set off another coughing fit. “No, I mean it,” he licked his lips. “I can taste the flavor, even though my nose is all stuffy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled, dipping the spoon back into the container. “I kinda made it in a rush, so I hoped it’d at least be edible.”

Chan finally looked up, fixing you with a guilt-ridden gaze. “I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, just as you brought another portion up to his lips.

“The only person you should be apologizing to is yourself,” you said firmly.

A comfortable silence filled the room, with nothing but the sound of Chan’s slurping and wheezy breaths breaking it. Though the bashfulness was still there—it always was—he gradually came to relax the more you fed him, slumping his shoulders and letting out those content, satisfied noises that you’d come to love so much after each hot spoonful. The sight of him, disheveled as he was, made your heart feel strangely full, the ripples of worry fading out until it was calm and clear. He was being cared for, looked after; even if for just a moment. You decided right then and there that it was the only thing you’d ever ask of him—to dare to let you treat him with an ounce of the kindness he showed everyone but himself.

The steam, garlic, and ginger seemed to do their job in clearing up his sinuses a bit, as his sniffling grew more and more frequent until it was obvious he was having a hard time containing it. He had to refrain from ducking his head, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over him as you plucked a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his nose clean. Still, he thanked you quietly, sinking further into the pillows.

“Is there anything else I can do?” you sealed the now-empty container shut. “I can pick up any missing work for you tomorrow, if that helps.”

Chan’s eyes were half-lidded now, his weariness finally starting to catch up to him. “Nah, don’t trouble yourself. Most of my stuff is on my laptop, anyway.”

For the first time, you noticed the device amidst the blankets and sheets, teetering on the edge of his mattress in a way that made your adrenaline spike considering it was the precious amalgamation of all his blood, sweat, and tears since he’d entered university.

“Have you been working, even now?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “But I think staring at a screen just made my head feel worse. Gonna try again later.”

Before you could say anything else, he changed the subject, like he knew you’d advise against it the instant the words left his mouth.

“But how’s your work? Is the lab going okay?”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at your lips. You might not have let him get away with it if he hadn’t asked about the exact thing you’d been dying to share with him since the last time you’d met up. Maybe that was what he needed, anyway—something to cheer him up and take his mind off the perpetual ache consuming his body.

“I’m observing a pair of binary stars right now.”

He perked up against the pillows, lifting his head so quickly that it actually earned a light hiss of pain. Still, his face broke out into a smile, exactly the way you’d dreamed of when you’d first analyzed the spectral lines.

“What kind?”

“Spectroscopic.”

His dimples appeared for the first time that day. “The closest pair!” he chirped. “That’s amazing, I wish I could see it.”

“I can show you their Doppler shifts as the next best thing,” you offered. “They’re so close even the telescopes can’t separate them. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Super romantic,” he beamed, eyes twinkling through the glaze of illness. That familiar warmth spread through your skin—just by looking at him, you could tell he was thinking the same thing as you. “Orbiting so close and so fast…you think they’ll change each other’s evolution?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”

Like in the case of most binary pairs, one star burned brighter than the other—just the slightest bit. Even if the difference in them was miniscule, you had no doubt in your mind which of the two was Chan.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Space talk could only mitigate the effects of the flu for so long. Chan’s half-lidded eyes eventually drooped all the way shut, his raspy but enthusiastic chatter dying down into barely-responsive mumbles, then, finally, soft, steady snores. It took everything in you not to lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, already accumulating beads of sweat as his fever began to break. Even after all your recklessness in getting so close to him while he was sick, you figured that would be pushing your luck a bit too far. Instead, you ensured he had enough water for when he’d inevitably wake up parched, adjusted his pillows so that his head was properly elevated, and tidied up the mess on his nightstand as best you could.

Carefully, you tiptoed out of his room, taking one last look at his sleeping face before shutting the door.

As you entered the living room from the hall, you found Minho seated on the couch; presumably hard at work, judging by the way he was hunched over his laptop, typing up a storm with computer glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He didn’t even spare you a glance when you passed him to toss the empty bottles in the recycling bin. You’d long learned to keep quiet around him to avoid setting off yet another tirade of petty insults and icy scowls, and you would’ve gladly gone without a word if the memory of your earlier accusation wasn’t nagging away at you. That, and, maybe the affection that had bubbled up inside you upon seeing Chan had let down your guard a bit.

Against your better judgment, you mustered up the will to say it. “Thanks for looking after him.”

Minho’s eyes stayed glued to his screen. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“Obviously,” you replied evenly. “I just mean I’m glad he has you.”

You were prepared to leave it at that, both to let him resume his work, and avoid the claws that were sure to come out if you kept pressing the matter. To your surprise, however, he piped up again just as you began making your way over to the door.

“If you’re expecting me to say the same about you, don’t hold your breath.”

You told yourself to ignore it, but with just a few words, he’d effectively frosted over all the warmth that Chan had kindled in your chest. Something snapped in you, making you spin on your heels before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Minho’s eyes flickered up at last, widening for only a split second before they narrowed again.

“That’s no way to talk to someone in their home,” he clicked his tongue. “If I wasn’t such a gentleman, I’d kick you out.”

You held your ground, refusing to feel embarrassed about your outburst no matter how much he provoked you.

“Answer me.”

Minho rose from the couch with a sigh, making it no secret what an inconvenience he found you to be, what an utter waste of his time it was to even address you.

“What makes you think I have a problem?”

You let out a bitter laugh. The absolute gall of this man.

“Don’t play dumb with me, okay? Changbin told me this is just what you’re like, but I haven't seen you treat anyone else the way you treat me.”

Minho was closer now, still a few feet away, but near enough to put you on high alert. He looked so unrecognizable these days, you’d forgotten what it’d ever felt like to be comfortable around him, to be in the same room without that unease spreading through your skin.

“You think you’re special?” he sneered. “Do your ego a favor and listen to Changbin.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he carried on, still managing to sound so carefree despite the venom in his words.

“Unless, of course, you’re the only one allowed to give orders here.”

You froze.

“What?”

“Hit a nerve?”

“What are you talking about?” You had to contain yourself, solely for the meager hope that maybe, just maybe, you might get a clear answer from him for once.

“I’ve seen your type before, too many times,” he spat. “Chan just can’t seem to break that ugly habit—falling for people who only know how to take advantage of him.”

You bristled, so enraged that you couldn’t even think to answer. All that filled your head was red, hot anger, defiance, and, buried beneath all that, fear.

Anger that he had the audacity to speak to you that way. That he’d passed such a cruel and absurd judgment without so much as bothering to get to know you first. Defiance that he thought he had you all figured out when he didn’t even know the half of it—of what Chan meant to you, of what you’d been through, of the people who had chewed you up and spit you out just like he was implying you liked to do.

Fear that he was right. Fear that someone else was capable of having those thoughts about you, that they weren’t just your own baseless inhibitions. The lingering effects of what he had planted in your mind, never quite uprooted.

“My type,” you tried to keep your voice steady. “Is just as capable of being taken advantage of.”

Minho crossed his arms, stare unbreaking as if inviting you to continue—to prove yourself to him. The thought alone made your stomach churn.

“You’re not as smart as you think,” you hissed. “You don’t know the first thing about me, and whatever happens between Chan and I is none of your business.”

He sniffed, unimpressed. “When you hurt him, it will be.”

He said it with so much certainty, so much confidence, you nearly believed it yourself. You clenched your fists, mustering all your strength to control the irrational amounts of rage bubbling up inside you. You thought of Chan, asleep in the other room amidst his nest of sweaty blankets and tissues, fighting off the flu on top of everything else he had resting on his shoulders. You thought of his exhausted face, paler than usual, and his cracked voice, still trying to reassure you even when he was in such a miserable state.

You took a deep breath, and you softened.

“I’m not going to hurt him.”

Minho said nothing. Maybe he thought it was too easy to counter, maybe he thought it wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Either way, you were done trying to make sense of him—done trying to defend yourself in front of someone who had long decided you were guilty.

So, he hated you. You could probably live with that. You didn’t exactly have a glowing opinion of him either.

You turned around, making a beeline for the door and slipping your shoes back on as calmly as you could. But, of course, it wasn’t over quite yet. Ending things on your terms, where you got the last say, wasn’t an option when it came to Minho.

“Running away from the fight you started again?” he called lazily. “This is getting boring.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Iseul’s sigh rang out through your apartment, so loud and so exaggerated this time that you couldn’t in good conscience brush it off. Half-amused by her transparency, you paused the show on your television, turning to give her a questioning look.

“Something wrong?”

“Look at that!” She gestured aggressively at the screen, where the male lead, soaked and forlorn with a bouquet of flowers in hand, was waiting in the pouring rain outside of his love interest’s home. “Where do I find someone like that, huh?”

You giggled, only to realize with a start that she was being dead serious. She pouted at you, and you cleared your throat, rushing to correct yourself.

“Are you still having problems wi—?”

“Yes,” she interjected, as if exasperated that it’d taken you this long to notice. “We had an argument earlier today. He called me needy, can you fucking believe that?”

You let out a hum of disapproval; you’d never really gotten a good vibe from this guy from the start, especially as Iseul’s boyfriend. He was far too emotionally unavailable for someone as expressive and sensitive as her.

“Why would he say that?”

“He’s just a dick. All I did was ask him to help me practice my marketing presentation—y’know, since you didn’t have the time to,” she added. You guessed it was probably just her frustration speaking, but something about the way she said it seemed off, like you were partially at fault for not being there to help her in the first place. “Then, after like two tries, he gets all annoyed with me saying I’m being way too nitpicky and wasting his time.”

You knew better than anyone how high-strung Iseul could be when it came to academics; it was the trait in her that had initially sparked your friendship, after all. She could be demanding, sure, but it was only because she cared so much about performing well. Being there for her any chance you got wasn’t even a matter of debate for you—it was the bare minimum, whether for a friend, or a significant other.

“Anyway, I’m still waiting on him to apologize,” she huffed. “I’m not the crazy one here, right? Like, do you think he has a point?”

“You’re not crazy.” You pressed your lips together, trying to approach the matter with caution. “I think you just have high expectations for people.”

“But that’s not a bad thing!”

“Of course not,” you agreed. “As long as you treat them with the same consideration.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I could literally be the best girlfriend ever if he’d just let me. He literally never appreciates the things I do for him.”

“Maybe you just have different ways of showing your care for each other?” you suggested. “You can try bringing it up next time you talk.”

Iseul groaned, dragging her hands down her face, as if the thought of urging him to have a mature, emotionally open conversation with her caused physical pain. “I guess. If he ever even bothers to text me again.”

“How long has it been?”

She looked away, uncharacteristically meek. “A few hours.”

“He usually takes that long anyway, right?” you reasoned. “He’ll definitely come around, try not to stress too much about it.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled. “I’m sick of thinking about it. How are things with Chan?”

It was the only detail of your life she ever really asked you about lately. You didn’t mind most of the time—you were more than happy to talk about him over other, significantly less pleasant things, but in this case, you felt a twinge of discomfort. You hated that the first thing that came to mind wasn’t Chan’s crinkled eye smile, but rather, Minho’s relentless death glare. The thought was unnerving enough for you to consider bringing it up with Iseul, just as a way to get an outside opinion from someone who wasn’t Changbin or Chan. Unlike them, Iseul didn’t know Minho at all, and you liked to think she was blunt enough to tell you objectively if you were in the wrong.

“Pretty good,” you hesitated. “Well, there is something—”

“I’m sure they’re more than just good,” she interrupted again. “All you ever do is hang out with him these days.”

You flashed her a grin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Someone to entertain myself with once you’ve settled down?”

You were met with another huff. She crossed her arms, eyebrows furrowing in a way that immediately told you she wasn’t in the mood to joke.

“Doesn’t mean you have to ditch me now that you’ve got yourself a boytoy.”

“C’mon, Iseul,” you tried to keep your tone light. “You practically live here.”

She picked at her fingernails in silence, and you felt yourself start to panic a bit, suddenly taking the implication that you’d been neglecting your friendship much more seriously. You hadn’t noticed a difference, save for how much busier your schedules were this semester—but that was inevitable given how hectic senior year was for everyone. As much as Chan consumed your thoughts (something Iseul was better off not knowing) you barely saw him more often than her; in fact, given everything he was constantly juggling at once, you probably saw him less.

“What are you always so busy with, then?” she questioned at last, the slightest bit accusatory.

“The same as you. Classes and my senior research.”

You couldn’t decipher why she looked so unconvinced by the explanation, like the idea of you being preoccupied with your own personal matters was somehow incomprehensible to her. She shifted around in her spot, clearly set on the idea that there had to be more to it than that.

“Fine,” she turned her head back to the television, still frozen on that same, pitiful frame from the drama. “I still need someone to help me practice though, and I’m definitely not asking him again. So, it’s gotta be you.”

“Sure,” you replied. “I can definitely find time.”

You wanted to believe that she was just in a foul mood because of the fight with her boyfriend—and maybe that really was the whole of it. Surely, she wouldn’t dismiss the past two years you’d spent helping and supporting her the very instant you had to focus on yourself for a bit.

Even as you told yourself that, you couldn’t help but wonder for the first time if the scale between you and her was more out of balance than you thought.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

October had arrived at last, bringing with it a pleasant chill in the air, early tints of orange on the trees, and a fresh wave of midterm exams. Most importantly, it brought Chan’s birthday. He’d recovered from the flu a mere few days before the third of the month, and you’d never been more grateful for the sight of his radiant smile and rosy cheeks, full of so much life that he energized not just himself, but everyone around him as well.

His birthday fell on a Tuesday, not exactly the most ideal time for a celebration between Experimental Physics II and The Life and Death of Stars, but you’d been determined to make it work. You would’ve made anything work if it meant getting to spend even an hour with him on the day where he was, for once, the center of the universe. A small get-together had been planned later in the evening at his apartment—actually a small get-together this time, as promised so seriously by Changbin—but you’d come up with an excuse to skip out on it. No matter how hard you wished it didn’t bother you, the idea of being under the same roof as Minho again had been all the reason you needed to keep away. You had no doubt in your mind that he’d do everything in his power to make you feel unwelcome, and you didn’t trust yourself to remain collected around the guy after he’d proven time and time again how talented he was when it came to riling you up.

The last thing you’d wanted was to cause a scene on Chan’s birthday; it wasn’t even worth risking. If you put a damper on his happiness simply because you couldn’t stop yourself from fighting with his best friend like two feral street cats each time you crossed paths, you’d never forgive yourself. Instead, you’d met up with him for lunch and pastries earlier in the day, with the perfect excuse to cover all the expenses for it—much to your delight, and much to his dismay. Even if you were a bit wistful about missing out on the real celebration later, Chan’s beaming face when he’d opened your gift, the best external hard drive you could afford, had more than made up for it.

It’d been a week since then, another week where you and Chan barely found the chance to lift your heads from the sea of work to check in on each other. You knew that he was especially overwhelmed. His sickness couldn’t have come at a worse time, leaving him playing catch up with all his missed assignments and lectures on top of the stress of midterms.

Your thumbs hovered over your phone screen, tapping against each other as you debated whether or not to send him a message. As if on cue, it lit up with a notification that made your breath catch.

channie 🐺 (1:03 a.m.) you awake?

you (1:03 a.m.) yeah hi channie

There was a delay before he texted again, three little dots appearing and disappearing below your chat bubble more than once, like he was repeatedly typing and deleting what he wanted to say.

channie 🐺 (1:07 a.m.) can i call you?

The question felt strange, unlike him. You’d grown accustomed to expecting his calls the very instant he’d find out you were available—more often than not, without any warning at all.

you (1:07 a.m.) do you even have to ask?

channie 🐺 (1:09 a.m.) i should probably start haha sorry

You frowned. Something was definitely off.

you (1:09 a.m.) nooo that’s not what i meant ur calls are the best surprise

Another minute passed without a response, and you began to worry that you’d actually upset him. Then, your screen lit up again, this time to signal his incoming call.

He didn’t greet you immediately after you picked up like he typically did. You registered the subtle sound of whirring on the other end of the line, like a breeze was billowing through his phone speaker.

“Chan?”

“Hi,” he sounded out of breath. “What’s up?”

“I was about to check on you, actually,” you confessed. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

Your heart fluttered, but it didn’t fully ebb the worry piling up inside you. “I missed you,” you murmured. “Starting to think dropping out isn’t such a bad idea.”

He chuckled—light, barely there. It was gone as soon as it came, as if not to overstay its welcome. The distant sound of a car engine met your ears, distracting you from what you’d planned to say next.

“Are you on your balcony?”

“Taking a walk,” he replied.

You blinked. “At this hour?”

“Yeah, couldn’t really sleep.”

For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest. You’d never heard him sound like this before. Blunt, sullen, defeated. A part of you, the hypervigilant part, wondered if he simply wasn’t in the mood to talk—but then, why would he have even asked to call you?

“Oh no,” you made a soft noise of sympathy. There was a pause as you mulled over how to approach it; whether to nag him not to get his adrenaline rushing so late, to offer words of comfort for whatever seemed to be bothering him, or to pretend like everything was okay, just to take his mind off of it. You didn’t want to keep pressing after you’d already asked once, but something was very clearly wrong; so wrong that Chan himself was making little effort to hide it.

“Do you want to look at the moon?”

A deep inhale. “Yeah.”

Wedging your phone between your ear and shoulder, you pulled up the blinds of your bedroom window and pushed it open, allowing the cool, October air to waft through your senses and drift over your skin. The moon was in its Waning Crescent phase, a thin, delicate slice of light illuminating the clear sky. You tried to picture Chan on the other end, the wonder in his tired eyes, the slope of his nose tilted upwards as he admired it like it was the first time it’d ever graced the night.

“Are you looking?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’ll be a new moon soon.”

“Yeah,” he said again.

A silence stretched across the call, not quite uncomfortable, but not quite serene, either. Even from afar, you could feel the thoughts buzzing in his head like they were your own, disturbing any peace the view might usually wash over him. His breathing, at least, steadied, and you guessed he’d stopped walking to get a proper look at the sky.

The two of you stayed that way for some time, long enough for you to start filling the gaps with his absentminded humming and sweet vocalizations. There was none of that today; just silence.

Then, you heard it. Faint, muffled, like he’d turned away from his phone to avoid letting you catch it: a sniffle.

“Channie,” you whispered. “Are you really okay?”

“Just my leftover cold, don’t worry.”

You kept quiet. You both knew he’d fully recovered well over a week ago.

“Sorry,” he said weakly. “Can I come over?”

“Right now?” You glanced at the time. It was already nearing 2:00 a.m., you didn’t want him to make such a long walk this late, especially not in his current condition. “Why don’t I come meet you?”

“No, no, ‘s alright.”

“Well, of course you can come. I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.”

The call ended. It left you feeling heavy with unease, an emotion you’d never once associated with Chan. As foreign as it was, it made you all the more determined to be there for him, to take on some of the weight he carried everywhere he went before his knees completely buckled underneath him. In your eyes, he was just like the moon he loved so much—always shining down on you with the brightest side of him, and never allowing you to see the other. You wanted to break the tidal lock and see the dark side of the moon. To uncover all the hidden craters and basins and accept them as a part of him.

Not even ten minutes had passed before you heard a knock at your door, far too soon for him to have arrived by foot. It made you realize, with another tug at your heart, that he must’ve already been on his way to your apartment when he’d first called.

When you swung open the door, there was a short lapse before his smile came, strained, but relieved. His hair was tousled from the wind, eyes outlined with dark circles, and black jacket unzipped. It hung loosely off his shoulder, and when you pulled him into a hug, you could feel the chill from the outside air lingering on his skin. Even so, his persistent warmth still seeped through; it always did.

Neither of you said anything as you took his hand in yours, guiding him to the other room. You settled down next to him on the edge of your bed, facing the window where the moon was still watching over you. Chan kept his eyes firmly locked on it, but his fingers brushed tentatively against yours, tracing the lines of your fingerprints and palms as if to commit them to memory.

“Sorry for bothering you so late.”

“You could never bother me,” you said simply.

It was so immediate, so natural, it had him taken aback for a moment. He sucked in through his teeth, well aware of your gaze studying his side profile with growing concern.

“At the showcase,” he mumbled. “Did you really mean what you said?”

The question could’ve been in reference to anything, but somehow, that was all he needed to ask for you to know exactly what he was talking about.

“Of course.”

Memories of him up on that stage flooded your mind. His charisma, his passion, his belief in Changbin and Jisung and, for a fleeting moment, himself. Just thinking about it was enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin.

“When I saw you performing, all I could think about was how much you belonged up there.”

Chan’s breath hitched. At last, he turned his head to face you, that same look from the night of the party—the one that troubled you for reasons you couldn’t explain—crossing his features again. Hopeful eyes searched for any hint of insincerity, any shadow of a doubt, only to find nothing but raw affection.

He leaned in suddenly, brushing his nose against yours in a wordless plea, and you closed the space between you. His lips were the slightest bit chapped from the crisp autumn air, but their plushness was never lost, consuming your senses with that soft, irresistible quality you could never get enough of. He melded seamlessly into you, filling every gap and crevice, pulling you further in like waves lapping at a shore.

Chan turned slightly on the bed, angling his body to bring himself closer to you and pressing his thigh against yours. For such a simple touch, it made him sigh sweetly into you, lips parting to add a new degree of heat to it all. His fingers flexed in your hand, and you used the other to cup his face, holding him steady as he moved his mouth with increasing urgency. Cute, tiny sounds built up in his throat each time your tongue slid against his, growing louder and louder until he was all but whimpering into your mouth.

His desire, normally thinly-veiled by a layer of timidity, was on full display tonight—not quite pushy, rather, begging with every pucker of his lips and graze of his teeth for you to take things a step further, to let him fall completely into you. It was a lack of restraint you often had to build into, to guide him there yourself. You kept telling yourself to get a grip, to break the kiss and check on the boy who, just minutes ago, appeared to be on the verge of falling apart; but it was fruitless to even think about ridding yourself of a sensation so addictive. His free hand reached for your waist, hesitant as ever to grab on as tight as he needed to. Instead, he took your shirt between his fingers, playing with the fabric in a way that, strangely enough, was even more exhilarating.

The sounds spilling out of Chan became muddled together, and it took you a few seconds to realize that he was trying to say something to you.

“Please,” he whined. “Please, please.”

You ran your thumb along his cheek, unlocking your lips from his at last. “What is it, baby?”

“Need you,” his breath was shaky, lungs aching from the intensity of the kiss. “Can I make you feel good? Please, let me this time.”

You paused, pulling away to get a proper look at him. “Are you sure?” you frowned. “You don’t look well, Channie. Why don’t we talk?”

“N-no, ‘m okay. Just really need you right now.”

His gaze flickered down to the spot between your thighs, and he swallowed. It affected you more than you wanted to admit—the pure want in his eyes for something so selfless.

“I’ll be good,” he promised. “However you want it, I’ll do it. Please.”

You scanned his face a few moments longer, trying to put aside the arousal spreading through you at an alarming rate, just long enough to get a read on him. Your concerns were still very much there, but the look on his face told you that he wanted—needed this even more than you did.

Gently, you squeezed his hand one last time before unlacing your fingers. “Alright...if that’s what you want.”

Chan watched, mesmerized, as you repositioned yourself on the bed, resting your back against your pillows and slipping your fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts to tug them off.

“Th-thank you,” he breathed. “I’ll do well. Promise.”

It nearly made you coo out loud. All this just to please you, just to satisfy desires that, unbeknownst to him, were already fulfilled just by being with him. Still, you knew Chan well enough to understand that it wouldn’t sit right in his mind until he gave you everything he had to offer. He’d give you his all if only you would let him.

Even as you slipped off your underwear, he stayed put, unmoving until you gestured for him to come over. He licked his lips, eyes shining in the low light when you spread your legs at last. Your heartbeat picked up as he settled between them, suddenly so close that you could feel each shaky breath of his tickling your sensitive skin. Tentatively, he placed his hands on your thighs, glancing up at you to ensure that it was really okay. You gave him an encouraging nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak when the only thing you could focus on was how dangerously close his mouth—his perfect mouth—was to your most intimate spot.

With your permission granted, he began pressing kisses to your inner thigh. They started off with that same shyness you knew, careful and reserved, but quickly became less and less controlled the more his mouth roamed. His lips were smoother now, wet and glossy, and they sent tiny jolts through your senses each time they came in contact with your skin. If you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought he was purposely trying to tease you, giving hints of what he could make you feel without diving in fully just yet. But the way he kneaded your flesh with the pads of his fingers, a low, desperate noise bubbling up inside him, said otherwise. He was appreciating every bit of you, basking in the moment, as if he may never get the chance to have his head between your legs again.

His sloppy kisses drew closer and closer to your heat, and when his lips came to hover over it at last, you had to stop yourself from pushing against his face right then and there. Delicately, his tongue slid out to glide from your entrance right up to your clit, ending it with a gentle flick that sent a shiver down your spine. He repeated the action almost immediately, a sweet hum escaping him as your arousal flooded his tastebuds.

Your hand fell down to his head, gripping his curls in a way that made his own pleasure spike, if the sudden whine he let out was any indication. He continued licking away, each intoxicating lap of his tongue growing more confident and making you ask yourself just why on earth you’d ever deprived yourself of such a feeling. It satiated a need that you hadn’t even known was there to begin with, twisted the muscles in your core with both tension and relief. If it’d been a while since he’d used his mouth like this, it certainly didn’t show.

“Am I…” he slurred. “Am I doing okay?”

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you assured him. “My sweet boy, using that pretty mouth for me. Making me feel so good.”

Your praises earned a moan from him, so loud you’d think he was the one experiencing the hot, delicious rhythm of his tongue. The sound vibrated against your folds, making your toes curl and your nails dig further into his scalp.

“You really like this, don’t you?” you giggled breathlessly.

“Mm. Just wanna—mmph—please you,” he managed between licks. “Wanna be a good boy for you.”

Before you could respond, heart-shaped lips wrapped unexpectedly around your clit, engulfing it with his plush, wet warmth and sending shockwaves all throughout your body. Despite your best efforts, you gasped, barely able to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs around his head. He sucked eagerly, adding just the right amount of pressure that, if kept up, was sure to draw you to a climax faster than you’d ever experienced before.

“Just like that.” You let your eyes flutter shut. “Good boy. You were made for this.”

Chan dragged his upper lip along the sensitive bud, the tip of his nose brushing against it in a way that threatened to snap the tightening coil in your abdomen all at once.

“Made f-for you,” he stuttered out. “Please, tell me I’m good for you. Tell me ‘m okay.”

You weren’t sure if it was his own arousal becoming too much for him to bear, but his voice had become near-frantic, as did the strokes of his tongue. His movements grew sloppier and sloppier, drool mixing with your essence and nose dragging along your folds almost obsessively.

You ran your fingers through his curls, hoping to keep him grounded. “More than okay. You’re perfect for me, baby boy.”

A broken whimper met your ears, driving you closer to the edge. “Yeah? ‘M doing well? Please, tell me I’m good,” he begged. “P-please, wanna be good enough.”

Amidst all his pleading and babbling, the words caught you off guard, pulling you out of your blissful haze all at once. Something wet dripped against your skin, warmer and thinner than any of the other fluids pooling at your core, and it made your eyes snap open in alarm.

“Channie?”

“I’ll do it right.” He didn’t look up, still working his mouth despite the choked noises building up in his throat. His hands pawed at your thighs, gripping and squeezing with so much urgency that you’d think he was terrified you might disappear. Another hot droplet ran down your skin, and as you blinked to refocus your vision, you finally noticed it—the trembling of his shoulders. “Just please, l-let me show you ‘m worth something.”

“Chan.” Panic gripped you, and you used your clutch on his hair to catch his attention. “Chan, stop for me, baby.”

Every one of your nerve-endings screamed out in protest as he obediently unlatched himself from you, releasing the mind-numbing suction of his lips. But your worry quickly overtook any of the remaining lust in your body. Chan sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to lift his head, and you slid your hand down to his dripping chin, tilting it up into view.

He was crying; tears trickling down his cheeks with fresh ones brimming in his clouded eyes. He squeezed them shut, unable to meet your stare, and your heart may as well have snapped in two.

“Oh, Channie,” you whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” his voice failed him, anything he’d been planning to say fading out into a sob. “S-sorry, ‘m sorry.”

A lump rose in your throat, guilt flooding your chest. You’d known he was off from the beginning—you should’ve done something, you shouldn't have let things get to this point. This was Chan, after all. Of course he’d pretend that he was fine for you, of course he’d try to make himself useful to you instead. You should’ve known better.

Still, you kept calm, even if it was surface-level, you steadied your volume and relaxed your expression; something to ground him amidst it all. “Don’t be sorry. Come see.”

He blinked the tears out of his eyes, only for them to immediately glaze over again. The skin around them had turned red and puffy, and coupled with the exhaustion written all over his face, he looked positively broken. “Sorry, ‘m okay, really,” he tried to insist. “I just…”

One look at your outstretched arms was all it took for him to lose his last shred of composure. He surged forward with a hiccup, falling into you and burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms securely around him, the tear in your heart growing as you felt him shake against you with each gasp and sob that racked his body. His flow of tears didn’t stop, in fact, it only seemed to come stronger in your hold, warm droplets streaming freely and seeping through the fabric of your shirt. You stayed quiet for a bit, just allowing him to release as you ran your hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“Why are you crying, baby?” you murmured again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I c-can’t fail,” he managed at last, barely coherent through the slur of his speech. “N-not again. I can’t.”

“Fail? Why would you fail?”

He didn’t answer right away—or, rather, he couldn’t, another feeble gasp effectively cutting off any response he’d mustered up. Despite the slew of questions his words unleashed in you, you remained patient, cradling his head with your free hand while the other continued to rub his back. For all its strength and broadness, it was more fragile than ever shuddering under your palm.

“It’s my last chance. C-can’t mess it up.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” you said firmly. Even without any idea as to what he was talking about, you knew that much was true. “What makes you think that?”

Another minute or so passed of him trying to gain control over his hiccups, just long enough to get a proper sentence out. “My mentor,” he took a deep breath. “My mentor rejected my project. S-said it needs a complete rework.”

Your stomach flipped. “What? Why?”

You winced at how loud it’d come out, but the utter disbelief in your tone at least seemed to encourage Chan to keep going. He sniffled, still refusing to lift his head from the comfort of your shoulder.

“Just wasn’t good enough.”

“Don’t say that.” The possibility wasn’t even worth considering to you. There had to be more to it; you refused to accept otherwise, not when you’d witnessed firsthand how earnestly Chan poured his heart and soul into every piece of music he’d ever created. “I know that can’t be it.”

A thought flickered to life in your head, one so obvious that you scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. “Did you have enough time to work on it?”

“I…” he began weakly. “I t-tried.”

“You were sick for over two weeks, Channie. Does your mentor know that?”

His breath caught in his throat, telling you all that you needed to know. “Don’t...wanna make excuses.”

“But it’s not an excuse, is it? It’s just the truth,” you reasoned. “You couldn’t even get out of bed. There’s no way you could do your best under those conditions.”

“I...I sh-should’ve—”

“You should’ve been getting enough rest. You should’ve told him what was going on.”

Your words seemed to reach him at last, cutting carefully through the thick fog of self-deprecation and sabotage consuming his mind just enough for him to really mull it over. He inhaled again, slower and deeper this time, but still not free of that painful tremor.

“M-maybe,” he rasped. “Maybe I did need more time.”

“There we go.” You combed through his hair. “Your best is more than good enough, Channie. Your mentor wouldn’t have done this study with you otherwise.”

You wanted, more than anything, to see his face as you spoke, to look directly into his red, watery eyes and let him know exactly how much you meant it. But you knew how vulnerable he must be feeling for you to even see him like this, so you let him be, hoping the message would get through to him nonetheless. “I’m sure if you explain it to him, he’ll understand. He knows what you’re capable of, and so do I. So please, don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

Chan’s shoulders relaxed just barely in your arms. He nuzzled further into you, and little by little, the trembling under your palms came to a stop. Given how hard he’d been crying—even now, with new ripples of tears still trickling onto your clothes—you were certain there was something else brewing deep within him. This was only the tip of the iceberg, the breaking point. Even so, you didn’t press the matter just yet, instead choosing to nurture the hint of calm that had begun to creep up on him.

“Do you really think I can do this?”

Your hand slid down to the nape of his neck, playing gently with the wisps of curls that swooped out. “I know you can,” you murmured. “And even if I didn’t, you’d do it anyway. You were made for this.”

A sweet sound, something between a sigh and whine, spilled out of him. Under any other circumstances, you knew he wouldn’t accept it without a protest or two, but in that moment, he absorbed it wholly—clung to it, even. His head finally lifted from the mess of tears and sweat that had formed in the crook of your neck, only to fall right into your chest instead, not quite ready to face you.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and he scooted impossibly closer to you, his thigh brushing between your legs in a way that you willed yourself to ignore. “Why don’t we go wash up?”

He tightened his grip on you, another soft noise gracing your ears. “Can we stay like this, please? Just a little longer.”

You softened. “Of course. Anything you want.”

He slumped fully against you as you rested your hand on the small of his back, the last of his reservations effectively washing away. You played loosely with the hem of his hoodie, listening to the sound of his breathing and taking comfort in the fact that it was finally beginning to even out.

The two of you stayed peacefully like that for several minutes, that was, until something warm and damp spread through your shirt, immediately catching your attention. Not tears this time, rather, the feeling of Chan’s mouth pressing against your chest.

Your heart skipped a beat. His lips puckered faintly, forming a moist ring over the material, right around your nipple. Just as you were about to pass it off as an accident, it happened again.

“Is there something you need, Channie?”

“You,” it came muffled. He parted his lips, wider this time, nibbling delicately on the fabric. “Can I? Please?”

It didn’t take much thought for you to understand what he was implying. An uncharacteristically self-indulgent request, one that filled you with affection and pooled heat in your stomach all over again.

“You’re so cute.” You couldn’t help yourself, his transparency made you melt like nothing else—you only wished that it would extend to other aspects of his life, ones that you were equally as hungry for.

Careful not to disturb him too much, you slipped your hands under your shirt and wiggled out of it. Chan lifted his head, albeit briefly, to make it easier for you to unclasp your bra. The instant your skin was bared to him, he nestled right back into your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple and sending a spark of electricity through your body. He sucked gently at the bud, taking in your scent through his nose and exhaling contently. His hand, covered by the sleeve of his jacket, reached up for your other breast, pawing at it with timid fingertips before squeezing the soft flesh at last.

“My sweet boy,” you cooed. “My baby boy who works so hard he forgets to care for himself.”

He whimpered, puckering and unpuckering his plump lips in a way that would’ve made you rub your thighs together had he not been settled between them. You cupped the back of his head, and his eyes fluttered shut, a look of pure bliss crossing his face. The red, hot flush from all his crying was replaced with something softer now, a rosy shade dusting his puffed cheeks.

“You’re doing so well, Channie,” you continued. “I hope you’ll see it one day. I’m so proud of you.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, an especially high-pitched whine escaping him. For a moment, you worried that he may begin to cry again, then, you felt it—his bulge brushing against your leg. His hips rocked forward so subtly, you weren’t even sure if he himself was aware of it, but once you’d noticed, it became hard to ignore the spike in your adrenaline.

Driven on by the feeling of his tongue swirling hungrily around your nipple, you let your hand drift down to the waistband of his pants. His mouth fell open as you traced over his bulge, all but jolting against you. “A-ah, yes. Touch me,” he pleaded.

“My baby’s so needy today,” you teased, dipping your fingers into his underwear and wrapping them around his half-hard length. He tightened his hold on your chest, his low, drawn-out moan sending a delicious vibration through your skin. “But good boys like you get whatever they want.”

Chan unlatched his lips from your nipple, only for any attempt at a reply to be cut off as you began pumping your hand along his dick. The cool night air drifting through your window was no match for the heat building between your bodies; that same, inexplicable heat that always drew you back to him. His fingers flexed around the softness of your breast, and you realized with a soft giggle that he was subconsciously mirroring the pace of your strokes.

You stopped to roll your palm over the head of his cock, smearing the droplets of precum around to add a layer of slickness to your movements. The cry it earned was nothing short of heavenly, ringing out shamelessly through your bedroom and making your core clench. Chan’s hip shot up into your grasp, so overtaken by the pleasure that he forgot to keep sucking for a moment, instead letting his mouth hang as drool began to dribble from its corner.

“Does that feel good?” you asked sweetly.

“Mmph, yes,” he slurred. “Please, don’t stop.”

“You deserve it,” you guided his head closer to your chest, allowing him to take your nipple between his swollen lips again. “You deserve to feel so good, angel.”

A wet, sticky sound, mixing with Chan’s pleas, began building as you glided your hand up and down his cock more steadily. Despite everything, it flustered him the moment he registered it, legs squeezing together with a broken whine.

“You hear that? Even the sounds your body makes are cute,” you hummed. His eyes, already shut tight, scrunched up even further to form an adorable look of embarrassment. “My pretty boy. You don’t even know how perfect you are for me.”

“Please,” he mewled, almost unintelligible through the skin and drool occupying his mouth. “Please, ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?”

He could only whimper in response, cock twitching in your hand as you added a delicious pressure to your strokes. He kneaded your chest with more vigor, leaning in to suck on your other nipple and sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His mouth was like wet, warm velvet encasing the sensitive bud; you found it hard to believe that those same lips had been between your legs earlier, drawing you to a climax with a purpose that you could only describe as raw devotion.

“Gonna—!” Chan’s hips bucked up, his whole body tensing. “A-ah, please, can I?”

You swiped your thumb playfully over his slit, and he practically keened. It was cruel, probably, but his unrelenting need to please you, even amidst all the desperation clouding his judgment, only made you want to toy with him more. Still, you knew that given the state he was in, teasing was out of the question. He needed comfort, pleasure, relief—and all of it rested in the palm of your hands.

“Let me see you cum like a good boy.” You gave one final jerk of your wrist, sending him over the edge at last. His thighs clenched, voice catching in his throat for a moment before breaking out into a gasp. Even so, he kept sucking to the best of his ability, babbles of your name dying down into soft mewls as the last few spurts of his seed coated your palm. You held still to avoid overstimulating him, curling his hair absentmindedly around your index finger until his cock finished throbbing in your grasp. Chan blinked his eyes open, still hazy and puffy, just in time to see you remove your hand from his pants and spread your fingers, connected by thick strings of his release.

“Look at all that,” you marveled. “You really needed this, huh?”

A low whine built in his throat. He pressed his cheek into your chest, shying away from the messy view.

“Are you embarrassed?”

“Mhm,” he managed a chuckle—quiet, still missing the jovial, melodic quality of his laughter, but even a trace of it was all it took to lift your spirits. Other than that, he said nothing, and you guessed he wasn’t entirely grounded just yet. You reached for a tissue from your nightstand, making a light grunt of effort with Chan’s full weight resting against you, and wiped down your hand to the best of your ability. As you leaned back against the pillows, your stare flickered down to the boy in your arms. He was an absolute wreck now; a sweaty, flushed, beautiful wreck of dried tears and drool gazing back up at you like he would do anything you so much as suggested in that moment.

“You did so well for me, Channie,” you praised. “Such a good boy.”

Pressing a quick kiss to his ruffled curls, you shifted beneath him, wordlessly urging him to let you wiggle off the bed. His reaction was immediate, sweater paws gripping your waist with an unexpected intensity.

“W-wait,” it was tinged with panic. “Don’t go, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you assured him, tapping the tip of his nose. “But we need to get you cleaned up, don’t we?”

He blinked a few times before the words seemed to get through to him. Then, with a slow nod, he hoisted himself off of you. It came as a surprise—though it shouldn’t have—how your body instantly longed for his warmth again. You took both of his hands into yours, almost tempted to push his sleeves back to properly lace your fingers together. But he seemed content with his palms covered like that, safe and secure in a way you didn’t dare to disrupt. With care, you tugged him up by his arms, letting him lean against you as you guided him to the bathroom. He didn’t let go of either of your hands the entire time, and, as awkward as the intimate gesture made it to walk, your heart fluttered.

You set the water to a warm temperature, watching Chan sway back and forth on his feet as you filled up the tub. His eyes were a bit more alert now, breaking the glaze that had encased them all throughout the night, like the reality of what had taken place was beginning to set in his mind.

“Wanna get undressed for me, Channie?”

There was a delay before he responded, long enough for you to give his hand a squeeze.

“Oh…yeah.”

Reluctantly, he released his hold on you, clumsy fingers fiddling with his hoodie in an attempt to shrug it off. With a fond smile, you reached out to help slide it down his shoulder. His arms fell limply to his sides, and you took it as a sign to keep going, slipping your fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugging it off, his pants and underwear following soon after. Even now, he ducked his head, unable to look you in the eye as you shut off the stream of water and ushered him into the tub.

As he sank into the warm pool, a sigh escaped him, so soft and relieved that you could practically feel the bliss rippling through his body. You sat yourself down on the edge of the tub, taking a moment to soak your washcloth before drizzling it with body wash—vanilla and cherry blossom, a blend of scents you’d quickly come to learn was Chan’s favorite. He loosened up the instant you came in contact with his skin, leaning into your touch. Gently, you began to scrub, lathering his broad back and shoulders with the sweet, flowery smell and admiring every curve and muscle in the process.

The rhythmic drag of the loofah and the gentle lap of the water had him reduced to putty in your hands in no time. He didn’t bother to resist the way his eyes drooped shut, each tranquil rock earning a small hum from him.

“Does that feel nice?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Channie. Your muscles are so tense,” you added. “I hope this helps a bit.”

He hummed again, tilting his head to the side as you moved up to the junction of his shoulder and neck, the comforting scent of your soap fully flooding his nostrils. Knowing how sensitive his neck was, you were careful not to press too hard around the area. It was horribly timed, but your skin tingled as you passed over the spot where you’d previously marked him—long faded by now, but you remembered the visual clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “About all of this.”

“Don’t apologize,” you ran the cloth along the slope of his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t want you to hide stuff like this from me—isn’t that what we promised?”

He hesitated. “I…yeah.”

“Even big, strong shoulders like yours can’t carry everything by themselves,” you scolded lightly. It earned a puff of laughter, and even with his eyes still closed tight, he lowered his head sheepishly.

The question that had been lingering in the back of your mind all night—the question that had been eating away at you since you’d first met him, really, made its presence known once again. The missing piece of the puzzle, the hidden crater yet to be illuminated. You knew by now that Chan wouldn’t reveal it without a strong enough nudge, no matter how badly he wanted to. Even if it was threatening to burst out of his chest, just aching for a pin to come along, he’d use all his strength to keep in until you punctured it yourself.

“Chan,” you pressed your lips together. “When you said ‘not again’…can I ask what you meant by that?”

He stiffened under your palms, features darkening to form that same expression as all those months ago, when you’d first asked why he’d changed majors. You repressed the urge to take it back this time—you needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

“Spring semester of my senior year,” he mumbled. “I failed most of my classes.”

Something awful gripped you, so intensely that you stopped scrubbing for a moment. Failed. It felt so wrong coming out of his mouth, a word you couldn’t comprehend ever applying to him.

“I…I decided to change from astrophysics and try music. It was something I always kinda wanted to do, anyway.” He sounded so nervous—terrified, even—shrinking into himself as he spoke as if each sentence made him more and more vulnerable to some hidden assailant waiting to attack. You continued your ministrations with the hopes of easing his fears a bit, wringing out the washcloth before adding more soap and running it along his chest. Even through the rough material, you could feel how fast his heart was beating.

“My parents, they…I've never really disappointed them like that before,” his voice cracked on the word “disappointed”, like it physically pained him to say. “I still don’t think they’ve really accepted it. They still look at me like…like I'm…”

He trailed off. He didn’t have to say it for your gut to wrench.

“Maybe once I graduate, they’ll think I'm worth something again.”

“Please, don’t talk like that,” you couldn’t hide your own distress. “You’re worth something as you are. It’s your future, Chan, not theirs.”

“But what if I can’t do it?” he whispered. “What if I just fail again? I’m so…so scared that I’m making the wrong decision.”

“It must be scary,” you agreed, gliding the washcloth along the tense curves of his arms. “Really hard, too. But that’s because you’re carving out your own path. No one else has walked it before you to clear out the way.”

He went quiet, and you took it as a sign to continue, a chance to keep swinging at the seemingly indestructible wall of self-doubt he’d so carefully crafted for years.

“You’re not alone, either,” you encouraged. “Think of Bin and Jisung and all that faith you have in them. Think of how much faith they must have in you to follow you down that path without question.”

If only he knew—if only he saw the admiration for him written all over their faces, oozing from every word they spoke. If only he knew the admiration you’d felt for him as early as when Changbin had first told you about him choosing music composition. Daring to take a route that, in many ways, was more challenging than even the most horrific of astrophysics courses. Not only that, but daring to flourish, leaving room for flowers to grow along the way wherever he roamed.

When Chan replied, you could've sworn you heard the faintest glimmer of hope in it. “I guess I never really thought of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way,” you chided softly. “I know you can do it. Just because others want you to do something, doesn’t mean it’s right. What’s right is what makes you happy.”

He loosened up further, welcoming your cleansing touch and your words of compassion more and more openly. You washed him in silence for another few minutes, debating in your head whether or not to keep pursuing the matter, to peel back another layer of him and get to his core.

“Were you…unhappy doing astrophysics?”

“Not exactly.” You got the feeling he could tell what you were really attempting to ask him. “I meant it when I said I liked it. That’s…not why I failed.”

You made a noise of understanding that masked the countless other things you wanted to say. He jolted just barely as you ventured down to clean his stomach, approaching his most sensitive area with a touch as gentle as it was deliberate. Care with a purpose.

“The…the person I was with, at the time,” he paused—whether to gather his thoughts, or to gauge your reaction, you weren’t entirely sure. Your eyes widened just a bit, but you kept your hand stubbornly occupied, scrubbing over his sore thighs. Like clockwork, they nearly closed in on each other. “She had a lot going on. Her mother was really sick; in and out of the hospital a lot.”

Even as dread stirred within you, like you knew exactly where this story was going, you left him space to continue.

“She just needed some help with everything she was dealing with in her life, y’know? I wanted to help.”

“I know you did,” you murmured. It was a given, one of the few certainties in life. Chan would always help, for no reason other than the fact that he could.

“I t-tried to be there for her. Took her wherever she needed to go, helped with her classes, visited her mother, looked after her little sister when she couldn’t,” he swallowed. “Then, around May, things got really bad. Her mom needed treatment for a few weeks, so I spent most of my time at the hospital or taking care of her sister.”

Something about the way he phrased it made you feel compelled to ask, “Where was she during that time?”

“Dunno,” he chuckled, humorless. “But I can probably guess.”

You stole a glance at his face. His eyes were open now, locked on the bubbly water and refusing to meet yours, like he might break all over again if he did. “In the end, I guess I didn't prepare well enough for my finals. Didn’t pass most of them. So I figured, if I was gonna be taking more semesters, anyway…i-if it wasn’t going to be perfect, I might as well start from scratch, y’know? Do it right this time.”

“Oh, Channie,” you rested your hand on his head. “That’s too much. That’s way too much.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t h—”

“No, no,” you didn’t even want to give him the chance to second-guess himself. “Please, don’t hold back. I’m listening.”

He was sugarcoating it, you knew he was. Even now, two years into the aftermath and still suffering the effects of it, he was trying to dismiss it all as something casual.

“What about her? What happened?”

Chan shrugged, reaching up for his ear. You didn’t push him as he fiddled with the silver hoop, instead taking the opportunity to grab your bottle of shampoo and squeeze some of the substance into your palm while he found the will to answer.

“When she found out I wasn’t graduating, she ended it,” he said at last. “Think it was already over, anyway. She was with someone else a few weeks later.”

“Oh my God.”

Through the haze that had been filling his head the entire night, your emotions still reached him with ease. “I brought it on myself, though,” he added quickly, as if the excuse—had it been even remotely correct—would’ve made it any better. “It was all just my own stupid choices. I can’t really say it’s her fault.”

Yes, you can. It took every ounce of self-control to stop yourself from pressing your nails into his head, just to avoid hurting him. You weren’t sure what drove the urge most: sympathy, protectiveness, fury. You couldn’t even begin to fathom it—you didn’t want to fathom it. To be presented with a heart as pure and honest as Chan’s, a love so selfless and sincere, only to trample all over it like it was worthless.

Despite the whirlwind that had spiraled to life inside you, you settled for something softer, a tenderness that, clearly, had been missing from his life thus far. You rubbed the shampoo delicately into his hair, swirling the dark curls around in a way that sent pleasurable ripples down his spine.

“It’s not your fault,” your tone left no room for debate. “Someone took advantage of your kindness. But showing that kindness? How could that possibly be your fault, Channie?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. You wondered if it was the first time he’d been told anything like that—whether by himself, or anyone else.

“I never do things for people to gain anything from it,” Chan began, and you knew, more than anything, that he meant it. “But…”

He hesitated, giving a quick shake of his head, as if to compose himself.

“But it hurts to be used.”

“Yeah. I understand.” You understood more than he could know, more than you could say in that moment. Tears had begun to well up in his eyes again, and for his own sake, you scooped up a portion of water in your hands and began to cleanse his head of the shampoo, letting the streams mask any fresh droplets that may trickle out.

“She never really did anything like this,” he said softly. “Most of the time, she’d just leave.”

Everything clicked into place. All the missing pieces of the puzzle, all at once, with each realization serving as another pang in your chest.

“Chan. I need you to know, right now, that this is what you deserve. All of this, and more.”

Faint sniffles and dripping water echoed throughout the bathroom. In this case, you welcomed it over his usual protests.

“I see everything you do, for me, and everyone else. You never give up on people, even with more than enough reason to,” you ran your hand through his hair, watching the wet ringlets slip through your fingers. “I admire that so much about you, but you still need to think of yourself once in a while. It’s not worth it—it’s never worth it to give your all to someone who will only see the empty husk left behind.”

Vaguely, you saw it, the slow nod of his head. It filled you with hope, the possibility that he might start to see himself the way you saw him, even if just a glimpse. Just a glimpse of him was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

“One day, all that kindness you put out into the world is gonna find you again. I promise.”

He turned his head to look up at you for the first time, eyes gleaming with something other than tears.

“I think it already has.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Neither of you said much as you continued bathing him, a quiet spell—comfortable, once more—passing between you and allowing everything that had been said to settle in your minds. You took your time conditioning Chan’s hair, giving each lush, beautiful curl the proper attention it deserved until you were fully satisfied. By the time you had finished rinsing him off, your legs were aching from sitting in the same, uncomfortable position for so long, and you were certain his were too. You helped him rise from the tub to the best of your ability, taking a moment to admire the streams of water traveling down his body before you passed him a towel.

As you re-entered your bedroom together, you immediately went to shut your window, not keen on creating even the slightest opportunity for Chan to catch another sickness. He was rocking on his heels again, looking seconds away from collapsing into your bed; he likely already would have if it weren’t for the fact that he was clad with nothing but a damp towel.

You dug around for a bit before locating a fresh pair of sweatpants he’d previously left at your place. When you presented them to him, he grinned for the first time that night.

“Been looking for these,” he commented. “They’re my favorite.”

“Well, they’re mine, now,” you teased. “But I can let you borrow them, I guess.”

To your surprise, he brought the garment up to his nose, and it took you a moment to register that he was breathing in the scent of your laundry detergent. It was almost ridiculous, how such a small action made you feel like your heart was going to erupt out of your chest.

The two of you settled into bed once he’d changed, and the exhaustion that had been gradually seeping down into Chan’s bones throughout the entire course of the night—even before that, probably—took over at last. You pulled the covers over your bodies, and he nestled into you before your head had even hit the pillow, his misgivings from your first night together nowhere to be found.

You prayed that he’d be able to sleep soundly tonight. His warmth washed over you, lulling you into dreams of your own. As you opened your mouth to wish him goodnight before your consciousness escaped you, you heard it. A mumble, just audible enough for you not to pass off as your own imagination.

“Think I love you.”

He was so drowsy that he may not have even noticed if you chose not to respond—you weren’t even sure if he noticed that he’d said it in the first place.

You rested your hand on the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“I love you, too.”

Something twisted deep within you as you returned his words. Not because you didn’t mean them, but because you did.

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