#she is both sympathetic and pitiful. she is unforgivable yet understandable.
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cursezoroark · 9 months ago
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this twist is literally one of the most haunting things to me reading the manga.
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eristic-kaleidoscope · 2 years ago
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±0 | KOKONE / Eiri | Trial 4.5 | RE: Jae-min, Byrne, Erik A, Kenshin
“They’re not the same.”
She hates how weak her voice sounds as she forces out her argument. Several people insist otherwise, that regardless of whether she was the selfish AI or the people-pleasing normal girl, she was still herself. She can’t deny that it hurts that they’d lie to her face and say they liked her regardless of who she was acting as, not because she struggled to see that love, but because she knew better than anyone that Eiri didn’t deserve it.
If she did, then Eiri would have received it earlier, too. If Eiri was deserving of love, happiness, freedom, or any other right that human beings have, then they wouldn’t have been deprived of her for so long.
But it’s not any of that that gets her to argue back, it’s Jae-min’s scolding. He has no intent to try and be even remotely sympathetic, and in some odd way, she appreciates that. It lets her not feel bad about lashing out at his words.
“E-Eiri and KOKONE, they’re not the same at all. I won’t say I didn’t do something fucking unforgiveable, I’ll never try to claim to be a good person, especially not because of my name, but they can never be considered the same person. Neither of them are real, I don’t understand how any of you could genuinely be so fucking stupid as to assume that that overly polite perfect girl was actually my real self, and KOKONE was clearly just some fictional character from the very start. They’re both just masks- er, metaphorical instead of physical this time, I guess. Either way, nothing about me is real. KOKONE’s never allowed to be honest if she wants to be safe, Eiri’s never been allowed to have anything for herself, not even emotions of her own. Both of them are pathetic, lifeless idiots.”
Throughout her rant, the self-proclaimed lifeless AI can feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She doesn’t have the right to emotions of her own, she claims, and yet she keeps having to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.
With a sharp breath in, she looks over to address Byrne first.
“We did discuss that, didn’t we? Even if I have no self to live for, I still need to live for others, but didn’t I just tell you yesterday how fucking miserable that is? I’ve been having to live for everyone else my entire god damn life, I’m tired. I was trying to live for my own sake, I finally had a life to look forward to, I was finally promised a place I could see as home, I just-” She bites the inside of her lip, taking a moment to collect herself so she doesn’t break. “I just needed KOKONE back first. Eiri didn’t earn that, KOKONE did. I-if I had to be stuck as Eiri, then I’d never be able to get out of that house. I’d never be able to actually go home. I still wanted to live for Kenshin’s sake too, I-I still wanted to live and go home with him and see Shiori again, but it was actually my choice this time. I wasn’t living solely out of obligation this time, KOKONE wasn’t, at least, because Eiri could never earn that right, even if Kenshin loves her too. I still don’t get what made you believe in me so much, whatever I did to make you do that, I’m sorry. I never deserved it.”
Then to Erik A.
“... The nickname’s fine. I actually… r-really liked hearing it. It’s strange, usually when people back home gave me nicknames, I had to resist the urge to snap at them and tell me to just use my name and nothing else. Because as awful as Eiri’s name is, hearing people try to change it to act fake nice and get close solely because they find her to be useful and easily manipulatable is so much fucking worse. Even so, Eiri’s seriously boring, y’know? And yet you still wanted to listen to her and stick around. Maybe it was out of a sense of obligation, or pity, or something, but somehow it felt honest. Maybe I’m an idiot for thinking this, but… I-I’d like to believe you, even if, again, I really didn’t deserve it. A-and yeah, sorry, guess it just slipped my mind.” She tries to weakly joke back.
And then, she finds it painful trying to respond to Kenshin. His reveal of the truth, his subsequent pleading, all for her sake. She just said she didn’t deserve any of it, any of this love or care, but she knows Kenshin enough to know that he’d always find a way to refute this. He’s deluded himself into seeing someone worthy of everything he’s given her, and she’s grateful.
There’s no way she couldn’t be grateful.
“... I’m sorry for giving up. W-we were so close to being able to go home, if what the sisters said at the start of the trial was true. I’m sorry for giving up on living, I-I’m sorry for confessing, I’m sorry for killing, I’m sorry for having to be Eiri, I’m sorry for everything.”
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yoonpobs · 4 years ago
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who's the boss | jhs
pairing: jung hoseok x oc
genre: fluff, slight enemies to lovers, boss!hobi, pa!oc
warnings: like one moment of suggestive content, confessing but no real confessions, jimin is your annoying best friend
words: 4, 663
summary: valentine's day with your stupid (hot) boss
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“You look miserable.”
Jimin snickers when he walks past your slouched body across your desk, ensuring that you saw the mocking look he gives you when you glare at him.
“Please tell our boss that.” You mutter under your breath, attempting to avoid the mountains of work that sat in front of you.
“You’re his assistant—you out of all people should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with.” Jimin points out, slamming a new pile of folders on your desk.
You gape at him, observing the unforgiving amount of work that now occupies both your desk and time; and Jimin only offers you a half-hearted shrug before patting you on the shoulder.
“Mr Jung wants it by tonight,” Jimin lets you know as he begins to walk off.
The deadline has you snapping your head rapidly to his retreating figure as you quickly stand up to call for him.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You exasperate, “Jimin—there’s no way I can get this done by tonight let alone this week!”
Jimin doesn’t even turn around when he shrugs, as if to tell you that it was your problem to deal with.
You growl, helplessly staring at the work that scatters your desk before your eyes narrow to the office next to yours, doors shut tight.
Before you can think twice, blinded by pure anger, you storm towards the secluded room; ignoring the stares from your co-workers, and a few sighs that you can tell is coming from Jungkook knowing that you were going to piss your boss off yet again.
You don’t knock, long past that level of formality with your boss as you slam the door open, eyes narrowed intimidatingly at the unsuspecting victim of your rage, who just looks up from his laptop with a raised brow.
“____, are you already done with—”
“Jung Hoseok.” You hiss, interrupting him as you shut the door behind you, rolling up your sleeves as if that would intimidate the man; fully aware that he towered over you, even in heels.
He slowly brings his laptop to a semi-closed position and leans back into his seat, arms carefully folded across his chest in a way that makes him look intimidating yet commanding.
It was a pity that your boss was such a douche because he was truly one of the most beautiful men that you’ve had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting in your entire life. Hoseok had the charm of a man that held himself with confidence and assurance, knowing that he was likely the hotshot of every room he walked into.
However, that also meant that he had a justifiable inflated ego that you were on the receiving end off, purely because you were hired as his personal assistant and not some other poor soul.
“That is my name, yes.”
You stomp towards his desk and slam your hands down onto the expensive wood, making sure your eyes are locked onto his stoic expression.
Momentarily, you see his eyes glance down to your chest where a decent amount of cleavage is likely being displayed to your boss, but it goes as quickly as it comes when he returns his gaze onto your blazing one.
“Are you fucking crazy?” You snap.
He blinks at you, hands clutched together as he leans forward on his elbows, face getting impossibly closer to your own that you have half the mind to put some distance between the two of you to preserve the beating of your heart.
“Is that any way to speak to your boss?” He cocks his head to a side, a teasing smirk dawning on his face.
“Cut the shit,” You hiss, “In what goddamn universe did you think it was justifiable for you to give me a month’s worth of work and expect it to be done by tonight?!”
He sighs, leaning back into his chair and man spreads in a way that you usually would hate, but of course, Hoseok made it look undeniably hot, and inviting.
“Didn’t I hire you because of your work ethic?”
You scoff in disbelief, arms folding across your chest.
“This is not about work ethic, and you know it. You have some secret vendetta against me and I see through your shit.” You accuse.
“Do I, Ms ____?” He says in a voice so low that it makes you stutter in your response.
“You tell me, Mr Jung.” You retort.
He observes your expression for a moment, taking in the way that you were breathing heavily and how your cheeks were a little flushed from your rant. Hoseok smirks at you because even though you were a lot to deal with, and had a tongue sharper than anyone he’s known, you were adorable.
Just like a kitten that was waiting to be tamed.
“Very well then,” He claps his hands together and opens his laptop again.
You raise an eyebrow, waiting for his next set of words. You recognise the slight gleam in your eyes and that causes an unsettling feeling to develop in your stomach.
“Work overtime.” He says simply as if it was the most obvious solution.
You gape at him, baffled at his blunt suggestion.
“What? That’s your solution? To work overtime?” You snap.
“I don’t see a better option knocking at our door’s here.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.
You grit your jaw and feel your eye twitch at his indifference, and you think about risking getting reported to HR, or even getting fired just so you could reach over and strangle the hell out of your insufferable boss.
“Give me an extension.” You all but demand.
“No.”
You’re about to leave with your dues until he answers you, and you snap your head to look at him incredulously.
“What do you mean no?” You hiss.
“It’s exactly what it means, Ms ____. I want the documents sorted through and filed by tonight. Even I’m working overtime and I’m the boss.” He smirks, eyes still not straying away from his laptop.
“Hoseok you don’t understand. I can’t.” His name slips out involuntarily, and you almost miss the way a smile teases his lips when you opt for his actual name than the nicknames you’ve resorted to.
“Oh? Did you have plans tonight?” He pries, eyes twinkling with mischief.
He knew. He knew what today was and gave you a shit ton of work.
You clench your jaw and give him a curt nod.
“Yes. I do.”
He hums under his breath, glancing down to type something onto his laptop before shutting it completely.
“Well—cancel them. You have plans with me now.” He says.
You choke on your spit at his calm declaration as you splutter to find a response.
“I can’t just cancel a date—!”
You snap your mouth shut when his eyebrows shoot to his hairline in a mischievous manner as if seeing you flustered was his favourite sight to behold.
“As your boss, I think I call the shots here, don’t I?” He pushes himself off his chair to walk towards you, height and presence imposing on your retreating figure.
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” You spit when he engulfs your space with his presence.
The navy grey suit he chose to wear today flattered his physique wonderfully, showcasing his lean and long limbs as well as his built. It didn’t help that he styled his hair with it parted by the side, his forehead on full display—as if to mark his territory as the most intimidating (and handsome) person at the office.
“Call me what you wish,” He shrugs, a smirk on his face, “We’ll have a lot of fun tonight, won’t we?”
You’d be lying if you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach.
.
“Mina—tell the blind date you set me up on that I can’t make it tonight,” You sigh, phone between your shoulder and your ear as you type away at your computer.
You hear Mina whine on the other end about how she thought the guy she set you up with was a perfect match for you. Truthfully, you didn’t even want to go on the date in the first place; but Mina said that you needed to get over the hots you felt for your boss even if he was the most infuriating person in every room he’s in.
“You’re not lying to get out of this, right? Do you really need to work overtime?” She whines.
You sigh.
“Do you remember who I work for? Of course I need to work overtime.” You mutter.
“How am I going to tell Jae?” She complains, and you briefly hear a thud on her end; probably signalling the fact that she flopped onto a surface in despair.
You snort and narrow your eyes to get a better view of the details on your spreadsheet, ensuring all facts and figures were aligned before saving it and proceeding to the next set of work you needed to finish.
“You’ll find a way,” You tell her, “I need to go. I have ten more documents to sort through and they’re all due tonight.”
Mina blows a virtual kiss for you and bids you goodbye, saying to kick your boss in the ass for her.
The moment you hang up, you see Jimin and Jungkook walk pass your desk with their bags over their shoulders, stopping by you to offer a sympathetic smile.
“Have fun working overtime ____,” Jungkook says, and it’s sincere enough to make you give him a half-hearted smile.
“Work on sucking your boss’ dick too.” Jimin snickers, mimicking the action inside of his cheek as you glare at him, chuckling a piece of crumpled paper in his direction.
“Jungkook—tell Taehyung I said hi,” You smile sweetly at him, then narrowing your eyes into slits at Jimin, “Jimin, I hope you puke out all the chocolates you’re going to binge on tonight.”
He gasps, hands resting on his chest in mock offence as he waves you goodbye, heading out as you return the gesture with your longest finger.
There the last bit of your co-workers that left the office, and now it was just you—and Hoseok—but he was cooped up in his office, for whatever reason it may be.
You sigh, cracking your knuckles forward as you attempt to race through all the documents that needed to be sorted through as fast as you can so you could go home and binge-watch all the romantic comedies in your watchlist.
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The quote time flies sits prettily on the tip of your tongue when you glance at the clock on your table to tell you that it was half an hour till midnight, meaning that you slaved away to work for an additional 6 hours.
You huff, at least thankful that you were finally done.
Even with Hoseok’s words saying that he’d work overtime as well, you were sure he was just in his office relaxing while you did his hefty work. The thought makes you frown as you clean up your workspace, ensuring that it’s in a pristine condition before you head back.
“_____?”
Hoseok’s voice peeks out from his office and you stop your ministrations to turn your head to look at him, a few stray strands of hair falling by the side of your face as you do so.
Hoseok can’t help but appreciate how relaxed you look, a juxtaposition from the usual prim and proper persona you took on during work. Your hair was tied in a messy bun, and a few buttons of your blouse were undone to give yourself some room to breathe.
“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow, beginning to get irritated with the way his eyes unabashedly observe you.
You have the words on your tongue already, preparing to cuss him out with your mouth and your fist if he gave you any more work to do.
“Have you eaten yet?” He asks.
You raise an eyebrow, watching his figure lean against the frame of the door.
“No, I haven’t. I was too busy finishing up the documents for you, remember?” You bite, can’t be helping the snark that your tongue releases.
A small twinge of a grin appears on his face as he cocks his head to his office, gesturing you to enter.
“I have some food. Do, join me.” He asks.
You blink at him, hands still clutching the last bit of your belongings as you mull over his proposition. While you and Hoseok worked close and hand in hand in business operations, you managed to have professional boundaries with him (which didn’t include the fact you cussed him out every five minutes). So, for him, the poster image of uptight and professionalism; with the occasional blunder, to invite you for a small meal outside of business?
You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster.
“Ah … it’s fine—I’ll probably heat some leftovers up—” You shake your head to deny.
But as you were caught up in a daze, Hoseok had seemed to have made his way to your desk, body positioned in a way that locks you in so that you had no other way to escape.
“Nonsense.” He tuts, grinning at you with his award-winning smile and you find it very hard to find him distasteful when he has the ability to reduce you to mush.
You notice that he mirrors your appearance in the sense that he looks far more casual than he usually does during work hours. He’s abandoned his blazer, and all he’s left in is his dress-shirt that does absolutely nothing in hiding his figure and slacks that just accentuates his waist even more. The fact that he also has his sleeves rolled up makes you more flustered than you’d like.
“It’s late—” You try to make an excuse, but he’s tugging you by your wrist to follow him and you have no objection on your tongue when you’re in his office.
Somehow, you've been in the room a million times, the second person that spends the most time in here besides Hoseok himself, yet tonight feels different.
The context of sharing a small meal with him seems almost illegal as if you were committing a crime.
“When did you even order this?” You mutter, when you realise his desk was already cleaned of all work-related stuff and only left with the brown packaged bags of food.
“Of course you didn’t notice,” He teases, gesturing for you to take a seat on the chair next to him.
You roll your eyes, bowing your head slightly to thank him when he passes you a sandwich, and you’re pleasantly surprised to know that it was your favourite order from a place you frequented during your lunch breaks.
“How did you—?”
“I’m not that much of an asshole to not know your likes and dislikes ____.” He jokes.
You purse your lips, flustered because while you and Hoseok bantered back and forth, and you were definitely tougher on your own boss than you were to your colleagues, you knew deep down it was an act of self-preservation to convince your own heart that keeping him away was safer for you.
“I didn't mean it like that …” You mumble, munching on your food.
Your eyes are too focused on the sandwich that you miss the fond expression Hoseok gives you, opting to just observe small bites that you were taking.
Eventually, you do notice that Hoseok isn’t eating but paying full attention to you, chin resting on his palm as he blatantly stares at you. When your eyes look up to meet his own, you flush and look away immediately, ears burning red under the dim light as you attempt to cover it up with a cough.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
He shrugs.
“I had my dinner hours ago. This is for you.” He gestures to the food, “You know I despise these things. They’re so pretentious.”
You gape at him with an open mouth.
“Then why are you still—” It seems like Hoseok is dead-set on not allowing you to finish most of your sentences tonight when he responds before you can finish.
“I was waiting for you.” The confession knocks the wind out of your chest as you look at him with wide eyes, heart beating faster when he nonchalantly admits that he was cooped up in his office—waiting for you?
“You didn’t have to do that Hoseok …” You mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear bashfully—a habit you only do when you’re embarrassed.
He snorts.
“A thank you would be nice, sweets.” He leans forward, face inches closer to yours as you yelp and leans back into your chair.
The term of endearment doesn’t fall deaf on your ears as you blush even harder. You want to curse at yourself because you’re much stronger than this, you’ve trained for years to not let your feelings show in front of Hoseok because well … he was the CEO and you were his personal assistant.
While there was no strict ban on dating your boss, you had ethics and principles of your own that somehow convinced you that it would’ve been messy. And messy it would be because you worked with him on every single project, communicated information to him and basically was his confidant—purely transactional—so you wouldn’t risk your career just to be with him.
Especially when you didn’t know if he felt the same way.
Even when he looks at you like that.
“I’m waiting …” He sing-songs, grinning at you.
You roll your eyes, looking away when you mumble:
“Thank you.”
He seems satisfied as he leans back into his chair, gesturing you to finish your meal.
The sandwich was delicious, as always, but once you took the last bite you were starting to wonder if Hoseok had really just waited hours, and now to just have you eat in front of him.
“Thank you for the meal, Hoseok.” You say politely.
He eyes you for a second, until his eyes glance to the side of your head—then back at you.
“It’s five minutes before midnight.” He points out.
You raise an eyebrow at him.
“… okay?”
“So … aren’t you going to wish me?” He pries.
The cue falls over your head, until you see and feel Hoseok, cage you in your chair.
You let out an eep at the sudden proximity, flushed at the way Hoseok grins at you all suave-like.
“Wish you?” You squeak, “W-What do you mean?”
He sighs, resting his palms on the side of your chair, looking at you with a fond expression that you were sure your eyes were deceiving you with.
“I dunno. Isn’t today a special day?” He teases, and he revels in the fact that you’re turning into a tomato under his scrutiny.
“I-Is it? I didn’t—I didn’t know that …” You gulp.
Hoseok takes the leap of faith and reaches out to pat your head, as you freeze under the touch.
“There were flyaways.” He smirks.
You feel like dying because of how close he is to you, and you know that he won’t let you go unless you say the words he’s tried to pull out from you. So, you swallow your pride, and honestly, gather all the courage you have in you to wish him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Hoseok.” You mumble, eyes avoiding his.
He doesn’t do anything for a split second, and you feel like a fool. You’re about to push him away until he moves—shuffling between his drawers to pull out—
“Flowers?” You cock your head to the side when he hands them over to you.
They were a beautiful arrangement, meticulously curated with the hands of someone that wanted perfection. It was very like Hoseok, but also included all of your favourite flowers and colours that you can’t help but imagine how cohesive the two of you would be.
You try to shake out of your delusions because you’re still processing the fact that Hoseok had handed you a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen and received.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, _____.” He smiles, and it lacks the usual mirth that he carries when he’s out to poke at you. This time, his smile is kind, warm—and longing.
“W-What is this for …?” You admire the arrangement, and it feels heavy in your palms. A testament to the effort put in, as well as how expensive it must’ve been.
“For being a great personal assistant,” He says.
It’s like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you when he says those words. You blink up at him, then you scowl—shoving him away from you as you abandon the flowers on the table. Your heart was so hopeful as if you had managed to understand what was going on in Hoseok’s heart—but he reminded you of who you were and the world between the two of you shattered.
“Hey—hey. Where are you going?” Hoseok seems panicked but you don’t pick up on much as you hastily try to leave.
“Home, Hoseok.” You say curtly.
He’s faster than you when he grabs your elbow to spin you around to face him.
“Do you not like it?” He furrows his eyebrows.
You glare at him, and all the irritation in you returns when he genuinely looks clueless.
“No, Hoseok. I fucking love it.” You try to pull away, but he’s stronger than you.
“Then what’s the problem?” He huffs.
You narrow your eyes at him and even though he both makes you want to rip your hair out and makes your heart feel funny—he genuinely looks confused.
“You!” You yell, shoving at his chest as he just looks at you quizzically.
“You’re my problem Jung Hoseok,” You point a firm finger into his chest, “You’re always making me do your work for you and teasing me until I want to rip your hair out—then you do this … whatever this is, with the flowers and the stares you’re giving me and you—and you expect me to be okay?”
He blinks at you.
“You’re so confusing Hoseok! Like God—first, you look at me with those eyes of yours and expect my heart not to flutter? Is that it? Do you just like embarrassing me like this? You stupid son of a motherfucking bitch—!”
He really needed to shut you up, and granted, it wasn’t the best way to do it. But there was something oddly endearing about the way you were yelling his ear off that he needed to just close the distance.
Hoseok grabs you by the waist with a firm hand on your cheek when he leans down to kiss you.
The kiss is explosive, both in pent up frustrations and longing all at once and you’re both confused and relieved when you feel the plush of his lips against your own. You forget what you were saying when he holds you like this—close.
Hoseok looked like a magnificent kisser—you theorised—and your hypothesis was proven with the way he’s gentle yet assertive with the way his body moulds against your own.
You whine when he pulls away, your hands clutching at the front of his dress shirt. Only when you see his flushed cheeks, and swollen lips do you remember what was happening.
“_____—”
You punch him in the stomach.
Hard.
He grunts, doubling over as you glare at him.
“Are you insane?” You shriek.
He wheezes, clutching at his abdomen.
“You could’ve just told me you didn’t like me!” He snaps, shooting you a venomous glare.
Your mouth falls open as you give him one of your own venomous stares.
“Are you stupid?” You throw your hands into the air, “Why the fuck did you do that?”
“I was trying to be romantic!” He grits out.
You huff, and you soften for a moment to see him still holding onto his stomach.
You quietly reach out to him, holding him by the elbow like you did something wrong (punching him in the stomach) and look up at him with apologetic eyes.
“Does it really hurt?” You meekly ask.
"No. I'm on the floor because it's comfortable," He deadpans.
You pout as you flush a pretty shade of red.
He’s about to retort when he sees how guilty you look, then he sighs; reaching an arm around your shoulder to bring you into an embrace against his chest.
“It’d hurt a lot more if you were rejecting me.”
You scoff, leaning your cheek against his chest when you feel the movement of his chest with his deep breaths.
“Why couldn’t you ask me out like a normal person?” You complain.
He rolls his eyes.
“You’re not a conventional person to ask out.”
You narrow your eyes at him, and he wants to kiss you again because you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.
So he does.
This time, you’re not as shocked, but it’s still as pleasant as when he first kissed you. You lean into his embrace, taking the initiative to run your hands across his shoulders and into his hair.
“We could’ve been doing this way longer if you weren’t such an annoying brat.” He mumbles against your lips.
The moment is broken when he returns to his normal self, but your heart still remains.
“Me? Annoying? You know what’s annoying—the fact that I spent six hours on Valentine’s Day sorting through your stupid documents because you wanted to hold me, hostage, here—”
Hoseok purses his lips as you progress through your rant, but in all honesty, you looked like a little rabbit that was frustrated than anything else, and all he feels in endearment.
He lets you have your moment, though—because he likes you like this—honest, unforgiving and so irrevocably yourself.
“—like, romantic? Please, Hoseok—you have zero romantic bones in your body and I’m pretty sure you’re 100% annoying than human—”
He pouts when you resort to insulting him, and he reaches for your cheeks to squeeze them in his palms so you’d stop.
“Okay enough of that, my feelings are hurt.” He pouts, “But … I’ll let you off the hook cause you’re so cute.”
You glare at him, cheeks still squished together like a chipmunk.
“I hathe eberything avout you.” You say through a muffled breath.
He sighs.
He releases your cheeks and begins packing up the trash, and you’re confused at the way his touch suddenly disappears and disappointed because you weren’t close to him anymore.
“Hobi?” You meekly call out, and he swears his heart stutters at the nickname.
“Can you stop being cute for one second and let me clean up?” He groans, shoving the stray paper bags away into the dustbin below his desk.
You blush even harder, keening under the praise.
You twiddle with your thumbs, awkwardly hovering by his desk as you watch him. You’d try to help, but there was something so utterly domestic and … homey about the way that Hoseok tuts you off when you reach out to pick something up.
Once he’s satisfied (because as annoying as he was, you applauded him for his neatness), he throws his blazer over his shoulder effortlessly, and shuts all the lights off, saying nothing more besides walking to the door.
You eye him curiously, wondering why he hasn’t uttered a single word yet, but as you’re about to open your mouth, he turns around to look at you over his shoulder with a raised brow.
“Are you coming?”
You tilt your head to the side.
“W-Where?”
“With me,” He shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wooden frame of his door as you feel your heartbeat grow faster at how effortlessly good he looks under the dim light.
“I think I owe you a belated Valentine’s Day celebration, no?”
Oh.
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eyreguide · 5 years ago
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5 Things I Learned About Jane Eyre
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A few years ago I was interviewed by a UK based educational company in preparation for their release of content about the Brontës aimed for teachers and students. Sadly the company, Train of Thought Productions, seems to be no more, but at the time they sent me a complimentary copy of the DVD titled “Brontës in Context”.  Unfortunately I believe it is hard to find now, but I found it a very interesting examination of the Brontës’ lives and work.
The Jane Eyre section of the DVD was especially illuminating.  I’ve never studied Jane Eyre in school, and although I've read critical texts about the story, there are schools of thoughts that I haven’t really explored.   Jane Eyre is such an intertextually rich story, that I should have anticipated that this DVD would be eye-opening in unexpected ways. So this post is about the things I learned from the "Brontës in Context" DVD. 
1st Person Narration
Okay, I do know that Jane Eyre is written in the first person. And I know that because the novel has a first person POV, the reader is drawn more into Jane's story, her spirit and her fiery nature. But one comment from a professor on the DVD really struck me - the idea that Jane addresses the reader personally (by saying "reader") more and more as the story progresses. "Reader, I married him." being the famous example. I was curious though to see if that was really true, so I went to the Gutenberg online copy and did a search - in the scroll bar, there are little yellow ticks that show where the word comes up in the text, so I took a screenshot of that bar to illustrate (I made the scroll bar horizontal).
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From left to right: The beginning of Jane Eyre to the end
Again the yellow marks are every time Jane says "reader" (which is not absolutely accurate since there are like three times it's in the novel, and it's not addressing the reader of the book) But it's true that Jane does directly reach out to the reader more as the novel progresses. The professor on the DVD explains it as Jane wanting to take control of her story, and one way she does this is by correcting the reader's thoughts - by giving them the truth directly. I thought that was a fascinating and accurate explanation of the purpose of Jane addressing the reader.
Bluebeard
To me, Jane Eyre is most succinctly compared to two fairy tales - Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast. I am aware of a Bluebeard connection, but I feel like the aforementioned tales encompasses the story more. But after watching this DVD I am leaning more towards seeing Jane Eyre in a "Bluebeard" light. Especially as Jane Eyre is a Gothic novel, and Bluebeard fits that genre the best of these three tales. There's a "secret at its heart" (quote from the DVD) which is a thoughtful encapsulation of both stories. And there was a comment made by one of the professors that placed the reader of the novel as the curious Bluebeard wife, reading the novel to discover the secret. Such an interesting idea! (And does that mean that Mr. Rochester is my husband??)
St. John and Helen
The role of religion is touched on in the DVD, and there was a thought that the character of St. John Rivers (who is not a bad person, but is kind of unforgivably self-righteous - oh, just me?) hearkens back to Jane's friend Helen Burns.  Helen is such a positive character and St. John considerably less so, that I initally felt it's almost a slur on Helen to link the two. But in the context of what the professor on the DVD said it makes sense -  they are similar in that they 'quash physical desires'.  And in that way I can understand why Jane would be drawn to them - they both encourage Jane to embrace a devotion to God and reason, at a time when her passionate nature is giving her the most pain. Unfortunately for St. John, his function later in the novel means he also has to show Jane that living such a cold, dispassionate life is not for her. And hey, both Helen and St. John meet untimely ends. Which to my mind is Charlotte making a harsh judgement on the idea of living just for God.
Jane and Injustice
Here's something that is hugely appealing to me about this novel. The novel can be pointed to as a feminist work, and Jane is speaking out for women everywhere, but what I love about Jane is that it's not her treatment as a woman that makes her upset. She's really angry at injustice. And the whole misogyny thing is just a part of that. It really took this DVD to drive that home to me. Jane is so passionate about what she feels is not right - the inability of Mrs. Reed to love her, the treatment of the girls at Lowood, the way Mr. Rochester speaks of Bertha, St. John Rivers not wanting to marry Rosamund Oliver. It's a glorious aspect to her character and reminds me of a line from an old sixties adaptation of the novel - Mr. Rochester calls Jane "the small crusader, pitiless with righteousness and rectitude." Rochester was a little harsh with that line, but I do like the 'small crusader' imagery. (In the 1961 adaptation he's more perturbed than happy that Jane's come back to him after he's been blinded and can not be the kind of man he wants to be for her.)
Postcolonialism
The DVD touches on three critical schools of thought in connection to Jane Eyre - Feminism, Marxism and Postcolonialism. And I learned two things in relation to the last one - what Postcolonialism is exactly, and that I really don't like seeing Jane Eyre in that context. In a nutshell, Postcolonialism is looking at the imperialist, British attitude as represented by Mr. Rochester as rich white guy, and Bertha as poor Creole woman. And Bertha's relation to Jane as a dark mirror. There's even a book written with those themes called Wide Sargasso Sea which is a prequel to Jane Eyre. It's from Bertha's viewpoint. I didn't care for the book actually. The thing with me is, I am sympathetic to Mr. Rochester. And I don't really see how you can accept the view that Mr. Rochester is a lying, manipulative scoundrel with no redeeming qualities and still like the novel or Jane. Because Jane - the character to whom the reader is intimately involved and invested in - chooses Mr. Rochester in the end, as the person who makes her the happiest. And if you love Jane because she is an intelligent, moral, capable heroine, as we have gotten to know her and rely on her throughout this story - it's silly to think she is so mistaken as to have made a horrible choice in the end. Also she is telling her story with 10 years distance, and not repenting her decision. She is happy, so what more could anyone ask for?
But back to Postcolonialism and why it does not gel with me; because I also feel like making a story called JANE EYRE, with the first person narration by said JANE EYRE, and then evaluating the story through NOT the main character is kind of ridiculous. Jane Eyre is such a personal journey, that I feel it's a big leap to talk about the novel like Charlotte Brontë was seriously examining slavery/race and British imperialism. If one chooses to see Bertha as completely innocent and horrendously mistreated, at least let it be because Mr. Rochester has misjudged her and acted unsympathetically, before saying it's obviously a master/slave dynamic. And I will just insert this excerpt of a letter that Charlottë Bronte wrote in response to some comments on Bertha:
Miss Kavanagh's view of the Maniac coincides with Leigh Hunt's. I agree with them that the character is shocking, but I know that it is but too natural. There is a phase of insanity which may be called moral madness, in which all that is good or even human seems to disappear from the mind and a fiend-nature replaces it. The sole aim and desire of the being thus possessed is to exasperate, to molest, to destroy, and preternatural ingenuity and energy are often exercised to that dreadful end. The aspect in such cases, assimilates with the disposition; all seems demonized. It is true that profound pity ought to be the only sentiment elicited by the view of such degradation, and equally true is it that I have not sufficiently dwelt on that feeling; I have erred in making horror too predominant. Mrs. Rochester indeed lived a sinful life before she was insane, but sin is itself a species of insanity: the truly good behold and compassionate it as such.
- Charlottë Bronte to W.S. Williams, written 4 January 1848
For me, the interesting points in the letter being Charlotte was (later?) more sympathetic to Bertha's plight, but not condemnatory of Mr. Rochester - she mentions that Bertha has led a sinful life before she was insane and that because of the nature of Bertha's insanity (as Charlotte wrote and understood it), it was probably too easy to 'demonize' her from the character's POV, which shouldn't happen to someone who is truly compassionate. Obviously Mr. Rochester doesn't get points in the philanthropy department which is noted by Jane early on. I understand and completely believe that Bertha's situation is awful and sad in so many ways, but I don't feel that it is important enough to the novel to base interpretations of the story on. Yet can I point out that Mr. Rochester didn't lock up Bertha for funnsies - it would have been so much easier for him if she were not mad because then he could divorce her. (The law at the time being that you could not divorce your wife if she was diagnosed insane.) If he could have let her go to have a normal life and not been responsible if she attacked people, he probably would have been all over that.
To wrap up, I am saddned that this DVD is not widely available any more (at least my google searches have not been fruitful) because it was a very well concieved educational program.  This DVD was sent to me in 2015, and I’m revisiting it, by posting this on my blog.  I orginally posted this on a former blog.  And I believe this post once featured on the Train of Thought Productions website, but sadly that site is no more.
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