#sorry guys I wish it wasn't necessary but alas -_-

[nattikay]

i care them so much ur honor 😭

[dieaverage]

ROSE-COLORED BOY — eddie munson x female reader

chapter four — wildfire

word count: 3.1k+

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author's note: well, hello, and happy new year!!! we are soooo back, my dear little phone friends. i am, slowly but surely, finding my feet on this wonderful corner of the internet, spreading my nonsensical agendas as i go along. i seriously think if i had discovered it sooner i would either be cured of all my mental preoccupations, or be infinitely more insufferable, there's actually no in between. alas, we are here now, and if you are reading this, thank you and sorry. rose-colored boy is my little passion project for the time being, it's my first proper writing attempt in a long while and admittedly the first time i've ever actually written with an audience in mind, which is as exciting as it is terrifying! this will not be perfect, i fear if i continued striving for that, i never would've gotten here. i am just very appreciative of the fact that anyone has taken an interest in any of what i have to say. anyways christ let me stop yapping before i scare you off entirely, here's chapter four, i sincerely hope you don't hate it, and my inbox is wide open for any thoughts you might have :)

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The realities of the night before thrashed around in your skull, restoring that acutely fixed pressure point on the bridge of your nose to its former glory as you lay under the homely duvet Joyce had undoubtedly purchased especially in anticipation of your indefinite residence. Part of you hoped, willed, that if you remained there long enough the weighty fabric might consume you whole.

Three gentle taps on the bedroom door immediately ravage any such wishes.

"Good night?" Your lifting of the covers from over your preoccupied head wasn't even necessary to discern the amused smirk across Jonathan's face as he posed the question to the outline of your evidently worse-for-wear frame. Blame it on the alcohol. If only it were that easy.

An unimpressive "Go... away..." is all you can bear to muster up in response. Jonathan wasn't exactly a persistent individual, though your ability to dismiss left even more to be desired. You were not worming your way out of this one, had you been sure you even wanted to.

"So, Hawkins' amenities not up to scratch anymore, city girl?" his attempts to press further poorly masqueraded by the feeble quip.

"He was there." The breathy and shockingly extracted revelation has you sinking impossibly further into the mattress.

"Oh." Some lessons in the art of acting would not go astray here, Jonathan. For a boy who concealed what was, by all accounts, a debilitating crush on Nancy Wheeler for the better part of your middle school careers, the least he could do was make his apparent surprise relatively conceivable.

"Which you already knew, I'm guessing."

Every Wednesday, he'd said. They played there. Every. Single. Wednesday. You dreaded to think how many of those Jonathan and the others had attended. Even more so, how many you'd missed. A sudden throb to your head extricated you from making such calculations.

"So.. did you, uh- you guys talk?"

There it was. You wondered now how much your run-in had been by chance and how much by orchestration. And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!, it being your decidedly unresolved dealings with the Munson boy. Or something of that variety. An indiscernible exhale of breath through your nose before answering leaves Jonathan feeling suddenly vulnerable to the very real potential of one of your brutal outbursts. He wondered if he should have armoured up before entering the lion's den. Or at least came bearing gifts (coffee).

"We did."

"Oh, r-really?"

"Yeah! Well, he did, mainly. Wielding profanity-driven throwing knives at me, scolding me for my lengthy absence as if I was some wayward kid and he was my designated custodian. And I mean, I stood there and took it, because, yeah, if we're being honest, maybe I probably deserved some of it. But yeah. A talk was had." A beat. "He's still a fucking prick, though."

Jonathan erupts in uncertain laughter. "Come on, Daph, you know it's all a front. Cut him some slack. You broke his heart."

Those final four words stung as they sliced into your skin, carving out an inescapable pit in your stomach.

"Don't." Your wavering voice an instant traitor of your otherwise assaultive tone.

"Don't what?"

"Say shit like that!" If looks could kill, Jonathan would be well on his way to the nearest ICU. "You never had any idea about our- f-friendship, none of you did. Or what happened to it, for that matter. So, please, Jonathan, because I didn- just- please don't tell me that." The newly impuissant expression on your face troubled Jonathan, as well as what vaguely resembled watering eyes creeping up on you as you now sat so that your wearied body directly opposed his from the other side of the bed. He rarely saw you so... unguarded. It was unsettling.

The thing is, you knew you were wrong. You knew they knew far more than they were willing to admit, or you, willing to accept, about the intricacies of your relationship with Eddie. You knew that he would have confided in them after you left, of course he would have. They had become his best friends as much as yours by the time you, and certainly him, had graduated.

"M'sorry, Daphne."

You extend your arm to Jonathan, placing a reassuring hand on top of his.

"No. My mess." You assure, attempting an equally assertive wink that admittedly lands far less convincingly than you had intended it to.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Jonathan..."

"Look, I'm about to meet Nance for a story we're covering, and we could really use your expertise, Miss Quindlen. She's going to be so stoked to see you."

One exasperated sigh later. "Meeting where, exactly?"

Waves of guilt came crashing over you as soon as Jonathan's car began barrelling down the gravelly entrance of Forest Hills, knocking the breath out of you in their wake. The autumn sun casted an unnerving shadow over the rows of trailers, though your eyes only cared to fixate on one, conveniently fronting what had once been the Hargrove residence, a detail you had never wished to dwell on after that night.

Nevertheless, it appeared you would not be provided the luxury as Jonathan clunkily advanced toward the cul-de-sac, ushering Nancy's infamous Mercury into view, which was stationed adjacent to the antichrist's former dwelling. The deadly silence interrupted by an uncomfortably audible gulp from your place in the passenger seat encouraged Jonathan to state the reassuringly obvious, "Oh, look, she's already here." Not that it assured you of anything other than your escalating sense of dread.

It wasn't just Nancy, but the entire ragtag, it seemed. Well, bar one overbearing, shaggy head of hair, the realisation of which depleting what little wind remained in your sails. His truancy did little to quell your nerves now, as you still faced plenty of bodies deserving of apologies and explanations and more apologies. Great to be back, right?

Maybe.

"Holy shit, Daphne!?!" A combination of suitably juxtaposed mousy curls and fiery red locks came tunnelling towards you, engulfing you in their respective embraces, and unless this was a dismal stab at inducing asphyxiation, they were... happy to see you?

You broke away slightly to plant two affectionate kisses on the foreheads of the Henderson boy and Mayfield girl, causing an uncontrollably winsome blush to paint across the face of the former. The use of descriptors such as 'boy' and 'girl' no longer felt applicable as you took a moment to study their matured faces which beamed undeservedly at your own. They were growing up, just as Will was, once more propelling the heart-rending reality he had so relentlessly driven home for you last night. Time had not stopped moving while you were gone. If anything, it had passed with excruciating acceleration.

The animated pair parted to allow for the emergence of the bashful boy young man who stood watching you unsurely.

"Hi, Lucas." You greeted him with a warm smile which was swiftly returned, silently alerting you that it was safe to approach, and you did, wrapping him in a tight hug before his waggish counterparts rejoined the gladly received envelopment.

"Okay, okay, enough. Before one of you pop a rib." You meant it jokingly for the most part (because if it wasn't yet clear, if there is one thing you revel in it is deflecting candour with humour), but the last year had chipped away at you, eroding what little strength you had managed to hold onto over the years. You couldn't help but wonder how much more it would take for the self-appointed castle to come crumbling down.

"Oh, come on, you've got a few good years left in you." Your innately self-destructive train of thought was broken by a breath of the archetypal Wheeler ribbing you had missed so deeply, fracturing what remained of the already steadily thawing ice as she, finally granted her turn, brought you in for a hermetic hug.

"Nance..." Your shallow breath escaped into the nape of her neck, those nettlesome tears threatening to cascade once more from the tactility of your best friend.

"Hey, stranger."

Return to Hawkins had proved... tumultuous. You felt as though the last twenty four hours had provided an abundance of furore to the otherwise motionless existence you'd led the last six months. Hell, the last four years, if you decided it a fitting time to get candid about your not-so-recent escapades (alas, shocker, you didn't). You knew you could, and would, rhapsodise the time you spent away from the oppressive clutches of Hicksville, USA to anyone who expressed a polite interest, whether for their sake or your own, that much you still weren't certain. But, perched on the hood of the Wheeler's family car, having successfully progressed past the exchanging of niceties and safely onto that effortless display of camaraderie between five faces which beamed at you with such unshakeable adoration that you only reciprocated tenfold, it felt right. More so than any superficially meaningful feat you would anecdotally preen yourself over should you run into an old classmate, educator, failed prosecutor, shaggy-haired Forest Hills inhabitant... I digress.

You were thankful for the many details the timely reunion had inadvertently clarified for you, sparing you the cumbersome burden of having to prod various members of your long-established friend group for the answers outright; you felt this would shine an unnecessarily dazzling light on your prolonged physical (and consequently, emotional) departure, like that one precarious addition who always finds themselves interjecting group discussions with a pitiful, "Wait, who are we talking about? When was this?".

You listened intently as Max recounted, while under the doting enclosure of the Sinclair boy, the belligerent marital breakdown that had occurred between her mom and the enigma that was Neil Hargrove, and how the latter had retreated to California, his contemptible offspring following not long after. He realised there was nothing or no one left in town worth entertaining, or terrorising, Billy always had a seemingly difficult time differentiating between the two. The Hargrove men, having left in a considerable hurry, left what countless ends they had loose, one of which being the grotty trailer Max now resided in with her mother in an attempt to combat their increasingly precarious financial situation. Divorce settlement, Max quipped, yet your heart all but broke at her revelations. From the moment you had formally met her, not two weeks into your entanglement with her now ex-step-brother, you fell head-over-military-inspired-boots in love with her, a love almost as vehement as the detest you had come to cultivate in your core for him. You were the older sister she never wanted, but now that she had, realised she no longer wanted to live without. Although you had never allowed her to realise the full extent of how he had treated you, she knew you were the only other person who clinically understood the layers of atrocity that encompassed Billy Hargrove, aching to be pulled apart, and the only one who cared enough to shield her from them. God, how she had missed you.

Nancy, not at all to your own incredulity, had become in all but name the incisively industrious editor-in-chief of Hawkins Post, and I mean, seriously earned it. You recollected the, what were for you, vexatious years she spent interning for the newspaper in high school, watching as she waited hand and foot on the corroding cadavers that were ostensibly Hawkins' answer to Walter Cronkite. Jonathan was her "right-hand man", as such, though you noted he had been self-appointedly so long before he ever found employment as the Post's resident photojournalist, and a decent one at that, swiftly silencing the plethora of nepotism allegations.

In fact, the only notable absences now were that of who you had christened Dumb and Dumber, formerly known as Steve and Robin (or Robin and Steve, potayto, potahto), who you were sure were still more inseparable than Siamese twins, an impossibility you had taken immense pleasure in declaring time and time again when they had clumsily arrived in late to another of your diligently scheduled shit-talking investigative journalism sessions. "Seriously, one of these days I will have to take a gander at those medical records to ensure the two of you possess entirely independent urinary tract organs."

Your gaze lingered on Dustin, who was looking particularly orphaned, as you recalled the long-standing custody war Harrington and the agonisingly captivating trailer-park-occupant-who-must-not-be-named had undergone for him, an unwanted twitch of your lips threatening to upturn into a, shudder, smile as you did so. The boy must have caught sight of your relatively decipherable stare, offering in return what he intended to be an innocently posed question to the larger part of the group.

"Hey, uh, has anyone seen Eddie?"

The commotion of an infernally on cue entrance ruptured the previously tranquil autumn's day in rural Indiana as it came barrelling out of the opposing trailer in a beeline for the curly headed boy, tackling him to the ground in one brisk motion. His congenital theatricalism put the entirety of that diffident dorp to utter shame. For you, it only had the effect of sending your already taxed circulatory system into overdrive. Like, you felt your heart may as well have been protruding from the caverns of your oesophagus like a particularly vigorous cuckoo clock, and he hadn't even noticed your newly limp frame draped across the Mercury, because, well, just a woeful case of tunnel vision, our Eddie.

"Jesus, Henderson, what are you doing down there, you'll catch your death." He teased as he aided the teenager off the ground, regaining his own composure as he did so, placing two firm, distractingly calloused, silver ring-clad hands on either of his shoulders, comically unaware of the fact your paralysed figure silently loomed over him as the rest of the group watched on impotently. The entire sequence felt painfully pulled out of the best worst horror comedy you've ever seen, like, some hardcore House shit. "Come on, do I got some shit to unpack. You'll never fucking guess who's back in t-"

Thwack!

Thank you, Nancy!

"OW!-n..." As he turned to scold the unidentified Wheeler finger which made sweet, unimpeded contact with his occiput, effortlessly penetrating the dense mane guarding it, the penny dropped. This realisation felt weightier, though, so maybe it was like, I don't know, a quarter or something.

Nut brown M&Ms for eyes attempted to sear an aperture into your own. You'd never thought two orbs you had once so fondly likened to the sugar-coated dragée chocolate confectionery could strike yours so... contemptuously.

And yet, try as they might, their arsonist tendencies were no match for your imperishable glare, an intimidatory tactic you had mastered down to a fine art. He may as well have been trying to set alight Fort Knox with a couple of particularly dull flint stones, a bundle of damp twigs and a dream, and even that would have proved more lucrative than dismantling the penitentiary that was home to your irremediable obstinacy, one nauseatingly formidable glower at a time.

Without as much as a nictate of concession, your address signalled elsewhere. "Your story, Nance. You were saying?"

If he had seriously expected you to be the one to waver in this glorified staring contest, perhaps your departure had been even more cataclysmic than previously thought. A remedial all-things-Daphne-Byers workshop was gravely due, and you were all the more gratified to deliver it.

"Uh, t-, the story, right! Follow me."

Slinging a soothing arm around your farthermost shoulder as she delicately turned your backs on the ungainly group, Nancy breathed a sigh of relief at the timely ejection from the increasingly uneasy atmosphere clouding the Mayfields' front lawn like a hazardous fog. Suddenly she contemplated whether she might have had a vocation as an EOD specialist, having comfortably defused the ticking time bomb that was your seething indignation.

Out of earshot, and into a Wheeler-led cross-examination.

"Do you want to talk, or shall I?"

"About the story, I mean, it is your story, right?"

"Daphne."

Sigh.

"Fine, Nancy, please... put me out of my misery then."

Not that she ever required the invitation, but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.

"Well, let me preface by saying - that was a cold war level standoff, like, holy shit, that was Siberian; and look, by all means, stop me if I'm overstepping," A laughable suggestion, in all honesty, because were you hell about to interject the visibly metastasising fire behind her impassioned cobalt orbs as she geared up for a good ol' fashioned Nancy Wheeler lacerating, which was more like a mild reprimanding, but still not worthy of engulfing the little patience you had left in order to test her own, "but I care about you, and I just feel like too much shit has happened to let the two of you prolong this glorified lovers' quarrel, don't you? It's had four years to run its course, Daphne, surely that's long enough."

"Look, Nance, you are barking up the wrong tree, in fact, you're in the completely wrong fucking forest. Christ, despite the widely verbalised certitude that I haven't stepped foot in this town since I was seventeen, everyone sure as shit wants to berate me like that was only yesterday. I'm an adult, Nancy, as are you now, as is he if the laws of evolution are anything to go by, and if and when he decides to trade in that whole angry-at-the-world outsider shtick he's had going on since high school for an operational backbone, he knows where to find me."

A beat.

"You know I love you, Nance, so much. Which is precisely why I don't wish to concern you, or be concerned, for that matter, with such... juvenile shit anymore, okay? I'm past it, and so are you."

"Maybe. But they're not." The grin she sported as she cast a heedful eye on whatever scene you so fiercely wished to keep your back on was so sickeningly saccharine it coerced any residual irritation out of your enervated bones and onto the sparse communal lawn your eyes were suddenly so fixated with. The collective Forest Hills landscaping ability left a great deal to be desired.

Alas, dissociation only topped the lengthy catalogue of conditions the clinical pragmatist that was Nancy Wheeler had no time for, quickly adjourning your pensive state to guide you back to where a concerned triad remained.

A couple strategically placed sinkholes would not go amiss.

The coterie was noticeably short of one stocky techie and his tachophobically challenged psuedo-dad-who-stepped-up, presumably taking cover nearby while the latter sought a suitably girthy tree trunk to unleash his stifled wrath on. Or to light one up under, whichever impulse prevailed.

The commotion of branches and various other forestry debris contorting under unfamiliar feet from the opposite end of the trailer park perimeter broke your readily resurfacing agitation.

"Nancyyy, hey, we got something!"

Gracelessly floundering out of the shadowy woodland that inundated the Hawkins landscape, none other than your knights in regrettably shining armour, Dumb and Dumber incarnate, Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley.

If your memory served you correctly, and it always did, they were essentially sinkholes of the charismatic variety, anyway.

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taglist <3: @yelyahpfa @avalon-wolf

[shra-vasti]

If I had to choose | Boo Seungkwan

Type : best friends au

Genre : fluff, slice of life, soft Seungkwan and strong reader? Like mentally strong and the reader always protects him? You get the point.

Word count : 2k

Synopsis : Seungkwan had always needed someone to look after him, he was too naive for the world but you were always there to protect him from all the odds, you were the bold one in this friendship.

A/N : This is solely inspired by a movie I watched and I really loved the interaction between the two best friend.

The music was played blissfully at the church by the band, all of the people who came to attened the wedding were either sulking at how boring the wedding was or were either pretending to be interested.

Even if we take a look at the bride and groom who were seated in their respected seat; the bride was taking selfies and the groom was chatting with some random person.

Isn't wedding suppose to be the most happiest and lively event?

You heard someone yell your name making you halt your activity and turn towards the voice, the father of the bride made his way towards you who was busy managing other activities of the wedding.

"Yes Sir?"

You didn't even made an effort to smile fakely at the man standing in front of you.

"You're not doing you're job properly, look how boring the wedding seems to be."

He exclaimed pointing at the people and the atmosphere of the wedding which made you scoff and roll your eyes at the said man.

"Listen Sir-" you breathed in, "- I have done my part as a wedding planner for this wedding, I have decorated the church with flowers and also the outside plus the song list you gave to me for the wedding I'm even playing it, now, it's not my fault that you have such boring family and relative who can't hype up the mood of the wedding, you can't expect me to do that!"

You were really tired, now what do they want you to do? Dance your heart out and entertain people so that they won't be bored? Being a wedding planner was surely a hard job. You even needed to bear the people's reckless tantrums.

"Hangin, the plates for the lunch have out numbered the guests in the wedding and we need more plates."

The brother of the man came rushing towards you and the bride's father.

"See-"

But before he could utter a single word you stopped him by showing your hand in front of him since your phone started to vibrate.

You looked at the caller ID to see Seungkwan written over it with a picture of a really adorable boy. You shook your head and decided to answer your best friend's call afterward and kept it inside your pocket.

"I told you guys that the plates will be out numbered, in a wedding with guest list of 1200 people you just asked me bring 700 plates saying it's not necessary that everyone will come and now see what has happened, you're such a miser."

You finally snapped at the man.

"Now how are we going to manage this?" Hangin asked you finally giving in and accepting it's his fault.

You nodded thinking of a way to get out of this trouble.

"I have an idea, I'll bring out 400 plates more but I need 200 dollars more."

"What? That's too much!"

"I didn't tell you to mess up in the first place plus since I know your condition I'm willing to take just 200 dollars otherwise other planners would have took nearly 500 for the urgent delivery."

You reasoned as you waited for their answer.

Both the brothers sighed.

"Okay I'll give you the required money just get you're thing done."

"Okay let's go." you agreed smiling at yourself for gaining an extra amout of money.

"Listen Vernon I need 400 plates more for the Jung's wedding urgently so bring it in 1 hour or less."

You informed your manager/friend calling him to tell about the emergency.

"Okay baby."

He chuckled before hanging up, he liked watching you being this stress but alas he wasn't there to witness it.

As you were observing if there were any other mistakes, a lady in her mid 30's, probably the aunt of groom, stopped you from going any further.

You looked at the lady with an eyebrow raised, you weren't normally this grumpy but there are different kinds of people in this world and they need to be treated just the way they treat others.

"I don't like this white rose system, it feels like you have came to a funeral hall."

She exclaimed while making a face at the decorations.

You huffed.

"Well I'm sorry ma'am but it was the bride's wish for the flowers to be white."

"Can't you change this flowers to green colored flowers?" The lady asked. "I like green more."

"I'm sorry ma'am but the wedding is almost finished I don't think I can do that plus it's hard to find such a big amount of green colored flowers."

"I don't know who gave you the permission to be the wedding planner of this wedding. Who even gave you the degree of being one huh? I will do a better job than you in this field." The lady said while blowing her manicured nails.

"Listen woman, you don't know how much knowledge and patience is required to be at this stage and you're better than me? Hell not even in your dreams who likes green flowers you dumb."

You scoffed and walked away.

Your phone rang again making you take it out in front of you Seungkwan was written on  the caller ID, sighing you picked up the call.

As soon as you picked up the call you could clearly hear your best friend crying at the other end.

"Now what?"

You had already grown tired of your best friend's crying, not that you were heartless but the reason made sense.

"World is so cruel to me, this time it was my fault, I shouldn't have done that."

Seungkwan's voice cracked as he spoke with you.

"Yeah yeah the world is really cruel and the life can be hard sometimes." you said but that only made him cry more.

"Where are you Boo?"

You asked him softly taking in consideration that he's crying right now and he can't be treated harshly.

Seungkwan gave you the address where he is and without even a second glance you headed out of the church to fetch your bestie.

After fetching him up and constantly listening to him babbling about random things but not exactly telling you what happened, along with that crying face, both of you finally reached at your apartment.

He rushed out first and went inside the kitchen got himself a big piece of cake and sat at the corner of the kitchen silently eating and looking at nothing in particular.

You removed your blazer and shoes and stood in front of Justice.

"Mind telling me what has happened?" you asked putting both of your hands on your hips and here we go the Nigra falls started to flow again.

"Will you even tell me what has happened?"

You were so done with his constant crying that you had to control your urge to smack his head.

"Jaeyung."

"Now what? I know you're crying because of her but I want the reason, from the past 2 years all you do is cry over her and nothing else."

"It wasn't her fault, it was mine this time." he cried as he was still eating the cake.

"Eat first and then talk you brat." you made a face at him.

"Shut up. I'm already hurt."

You sighed and sat in front of him, crossed leg.

"Why don't you break up with her already?"

"I love her." Justice

"But I don't think she loves you."

"Why do you think like that? She loves me."

You pinched your eyebrows with your hands and started counting three to control your anger and also the throbbing headache which you know was soon going to follow.

"See you remember that time?"

"Which time?"

He casually asked you still eating the cake not really remembering what time.

"The time when she yelled at you for posting a picture of you with Bora."

"She was jealous okay, girlfriends tend to be jealous."

"And then he posted a picture of her with two random boys we don't even know about."

"She's different."

He furrowed his eyebrows pouting at you.

"Every freaking boy on the earth thinks that his woman is special but since it's coming from you're mouth, I know we are fucked up."

"But-"

"But what? Remember when both of us went to club with her and she introduce us to a new boy?"

"What about that?"

"Shw introduced you as her close friend and not as her boyfriend, did you get that? AS A CLOSE FRIEND, don't you know what happens when girlfriends starts introducing their boyfriends as close friends to someone?"

"But she said that she didn't want him to know about us because he was her cousin."

You rolled your eyes as you took out your phone, open up your instagram account and showed it to him.

"See where do you find a picture of both of you on her account. She has herpictures with so many boys but not with her own boyfriend."

You snapped showing him Jaeyung's profile.

"Okay I got it, it was her fault that time but this time it was me."

You motioned him to go on.

"She was in bathroom and suddenly her phone vibrated so I went to take a look at it and before I could do anything she snatched it away form me and was angry cause she thought that I'm doubting her." he says softly sniffling a bit.

"Do you know that she has a tinder account?"

"Nope." he answered.

"Boo she has a tinder account! Why does she even need it anyway? And why didn't she tell you? Do you know what it means?" you dramatically questioned.

"But what's the big deal anyway."

"Boo-" you stood up. "-out of two years means 24 months which means hundred and four weeks, she made you cry for hundred and two weeks, what kind of relationship averages one week of happiness per year?"

Seungkwan just looked at you and blinked multiple times digesting fully on what you just said.

"Then what should I do?"

"Finish it boy!"

"But I've been with her for 2 years already."

"It's never too late Boo plus that girl, I don't think she even loves you, you can forget her." you patted the latter's shoulder.

"I can't, I love her."

"Well I'm sorry then this is the only way I can save you up from that asshole."

You put both of your hand on your waist looking intently at him.

He gulped as you stood up looking at your eyes with confusion and fear written all over his face. What will you do?

"Me or her?"

The words left your mouth and horror plastered all over his face. He sighed knowing all well that whatever happens in his life he will always choose you and you'll always choose him.

"What club are we going to this time?"

You grinned at him already knowing you will win if you put out the said question in front of him.

"Surprise." and he groaned knowing he's going to have a wild night.