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vanaera · 5 years ago

Text

Daffodil Rings

Synopsis | In a world where the red-string-of-fate tale has been proven true by science, each scientific journal has been up to date with every new-found “soulmate system,” and everyone out there has been in their never-ending search for their soulmates, there stands one bug in the system: You. You don’t believe in the absoluteness of the soulmate phenomenon, nor the too-perfect-to-work-out soulmate systems, arguing each and every bit of them are for everyone but you. With 17 years of defiance against such natural occurrence, you did not expect you will be literally swept off your feet by your soulmate on some ordinary Thursday into the wildest night of your life. Everything only goes downhill when you learn that “soulmate” of yours happens to be Park Jimin, the singer from the worldwide famous boy group BTS, you have embarrassingly crushed on for six years.

Characters | idol!Jimin x law student, part-time florist!you (soulmate au proven by science; strangers to lovers trope)

Genres | Fluff, angst, implied smut

Wordcount | 22.3k (I’m sorry)

Playlist | I was Made for Loving You by Tori Kelly ft. Ed Sheeran

Cross posted on | AO3

A/N | Hi everyone! Friendly reminder that everything in this story is fictional and has no intended connection with actual individuals and groups involved in this story. I just felt the need to remind you all ;)

You always loved arguing. Whether it be about politics, philosophy, human rights issues, science advances, or if pineapples really do belong in pizza (which you agree with) – the topic doesn’t matter because you found it always necessary to go against the current. For check and balance, you insist. You don’t want to admit that “hobby” of yours was almost pathological.

You tell people it started from a time you were five and went around your neighborhood. Your mother told you to get outside your introverted shell and talk with the kids of your age. However, instead of striking friendships, you started arguments, arguing person after person on the littlest of things–from the notion that ocean sunfishes are the stupidest animals to exist, to the fallacy behind ‘blood is thicker than water’. Unlike your mother’s expectations, you earned angry snarls and glares to the point she was almost bothered by the stinging stares of anyone who will pass by your house. “Almost” is the keyword, because as soon as local debates were announced in your community centers, you became the most sought-out consultant of every single contestant. Times now seemed short of instances people can prove what they’re ideas are worth. Anyway, your mother forbade you to enter the contest because you were too young to join at that time (“Goodness, you’re just five!”). And because Mrs. Thornbow, your third grade English teacher and adviser, was not impressed of your carefree negligence of school rules, especially regarding proper attires. You guessed your teacher warned your mother of letting you participate in debates in your notorious black slacks, the one you always wear in school instead of your red plaid skirt, in case you get too “out of hand” again in school.

Unlike the story you told everyone, the real origin of your almost-sick hobby has to do with the red string of fate. The invisible, indestructible string created by fate which ties two people together, two soulmates, for the rest of their lives. Generations upon generations were expecting to be paired with a person made by the heavens just for them. Even more, most relationships, marriages, and families are the fruits of this system. Thus, it will be unnatural for anyone to go against such destiny.

The soulmate phenomenon was an inexplicable truth and people explained such phenomenon through the myth of these red strings, until 1986 when Professor Vandikes and Doctor Weber discovered biological evidences of the soulmate phenomenon. The two found extraneous neural interconnections of two “soulmates” through neuroimaging. Vandikes and Weber discovered that thoughts can be transmitted back and forth between the soulmates because of their identically coordinated neural activities. Even more, the soulmates simultaneously produced similar accurate results even when they’re living in two different countries.

As soon as Vandikes and Weber’s study hit the news, everyone was automatically convinced in this soulmate science. It even prompted researchers to investigate every single existing soulmate systems. No wonder everyone accepted the soulmate phenomenon as an unarguable truth, an unbreakable tradition, and even as absurd as a purpose in life. Of course, everyone except you.

You didn’t believe in fate dictating who you should love when you already have enough of the society telling you who you should be. Science has proven fate is capable of planning someone to be awfully compatible with you but, it does not ensure it will always work. Your existence was enough of a proof.

You do not have any existing soulmate system countl. There is no “soulname” on your wrist, a permanent, inborn tattoo of the name of your soulmate, the very soulmate system your mother and father has. You do not feel any kind of “soulbond,” the emotional transparency system between two soulmates, nor do you see any “soul-art” decorating your body, a system of identical, dull tattoos, which only turn vibrant at the touch of a soulmate. You already see the world in color since you were born, unlike your playmate Jung Seolhee. She said she has “soul-vision” as her soulmate system that’s why she sees the world in black and white until her soulmate comes and enters her field of vision. And, you most definitely do not have any thoughts, other than yours, rambling in your mind as you grow up unlike what Vandikes and Weber claim in the rare soulmate system, “soul connection”.

In short, the soulmate phenomenon did not include you into their equation. Hence, at sixteen, you’re adamant about your disagreement with this red-string-of-fate bullshit–a sentiment you nurtured since you’re five–when everyone of your age has already set out to travel the world to find their soulmates. You decided you won’t base your life on what fate has dictated. You will create your own path, your own life, and your own destiny. Cures for numerous illnesses have been discovered yet their effectivity for every single person are not identically applicable. The soulmate phenomenon excluded you and it most probably happened so because it’s not for you.

You love arguing, most especially when it comes to the soulmate phenomenon. Your 17-year-defiance is enough of a solid proof and such experience warranted you enough skills not only to graduate college as the top of the class, but also to pursue law school. You just didn’t imagine your longest duration of arguing will not be against a competent lawyer inside the court, but against a stranger you met in a hole-in-the-wall bar, who unknowingly becomes your greatest misfortune of your night.

It all started at ten o’clock, fifth of September 2019, in Marti’s Hub, a small bar you always frequent when you’re in need of intoxicating liquids. You never thought anything aberrant will happen as two hours prior, you were just mourning over the disappointing results of your Law 114 essay with some drinks with your bestfriend Lucy.

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s dance! Stop being such a party pooper!” you feel Lucy’s insistent pull on the sleeve of your jacket and you glared at her before putting your drink down on the table.

Actually, two hours prior to that dreadful ten o’clock, you were mulling over your Law 114 essay while Lucy is mulling about the probability of her soulmate appearing in the bar. And as much as you totally love arguing, there is only one exception to your uncontrollable hobby: you hate doing it with your bestfriend.

Lucy Kim has been with you since you’re an intolerable ten-year-old in elementary and for the longest time your friendship lasted, it isn’t hard to tell the girl was a sensitive bunch. You remember her fat ugly tears in senior high when Peter Lee, the local asshole, told her her braids look dumb. Like every other friends, you’ve had fights here and there. Everytime you argued with her, you hated yourself a bit for making her feel bad and you feel much worse when you have to apologize and see her tear-streaked face. It’s ironic how you’re this soft for Lucy when you didn’t bat a damn eyelash at your mother whenever she complains you’re the frequent source of her headaches. In your defense, Lucy understood your anomalous hobby as your second nature far better than your mother could.

However for tonight, you’re gonna cross the line and disregard the exception you reserved for your bestfriend.

“Lucy, I told you I came here to drink. Not dance.” You picked the lime on the plate and took a bite. Your fingers enclose firmly on your glass before your friend could attempt to take you away again. “Plus, I just agreed to tag you along because you told me you want to cry over your fruitless job hunt. I did not agree to accompany you to hunt for your soulmate tonight, which is what you’re doing right now.” You look pointedly at her.

“Well,” Lucy drawls, rubbing her arm, “you can’t blame me. I’ve already searched our entire neighborhood, my hometown, and even my old university and still I can barely see any Michael Hudson coming my way.” Your eyes caught how she grazes her fingers on the soulname marked on her right wrist. You tried to sympathize with her but still-

“That does not justify why you’re asking me to accompany you to the dance floor.”

Your remark is returned with a scathing look from your friend. “Are you not listening to me? I told you I already searched the entire city! And you’ve always accompanied me in every single soulmate hunt! Plus, you didn’t have any qualms yesterday when you and I started to search in nightclubs. It won’t hurt for another try tonight.” You turn away, silent in the truth of what she said. Lucy huffs, “Also, a Michael Hudson sounds someone that usually goes to nightclubs.”

“It does not,” you mutter, taking another swig from your drink.

“Uh yeah?” Lucy’s frown deepens, eyes turning into slits as she glares at you like you’re an imbecile. Hypothetically, you are one based on your non-impressive streak in your law essays but that’s beside the incredulity of the things your bestfriend is spouting. Whether she understood the disinterest painted in your whole face or not, she continues on, “I already met lots of Michael’s yesterday and I just met two ‘bout 20 minutes ago. My Michael Hudson may actually be here.”

You placed down your drink on the bar to stare at your friend. “Lucy, your argument is a false causation. Look,” you sigh, “a bar is not an ideal place to find true love. In this generation, it is more likely you’ll meet an asshole Michael in here instead of your prince charming Michael.” You grimace but you continue on, “Your Michael Hudson may be having some coffee right now in a sophisticated café while some ‘Michael’ here turns out to be a jerk who just wants to get into your pants. Why don’t we just go home, yeah? I’m already finished with my drink and I don’t want to drag your drunk ass back to your home again.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” Lucy groans. “I feel he’s here right now. I can’t just go up and leave without trying. My guts are telling me to stay. It’s a soulmate thing!” You scrunch your face in a disgusted cringe. Lucy narrows her eyes. “See? You’re just saying these stuff because of your prejudice against the soulmate phenomenon.”

“It’s not a prejudice. What I believe is true–”

“Doesn’t matter. Look,” Lucy sighs, “If you want to go home, you can go. I’ll stay here and take my chances.” She doesn’t wait for your reply and turns around to head for the dance floor.

A heavy rock settles on your chest. You don’t like arguing with your bestfriend especially when it comes to this soulmate thing where your views are in absolute disagreement with hers. You don’t like to come off as a bitter, unsupportive friend who ruins everyone’s mood with their cynicism. But sometimes, you can’t help but say a thing or two to wake Lucy up from her fantasies. After toxic relationships with already three Michael Hudsons in your university, you figured Lucy is annoyingly naïve for outright jumping in a relationship with anyone who has the same name as the words inked on her wrist. You’ve already picked up broken piece after broken piece of herself from relationships after relationships, helping her stand on her feet again and again. You’ve always been by her side to not let her stay far too up in the clouds, balancing her happy-go-lucky spirit with your boring seriousness to help her grounded to reality. That’s why you can’t ignore the thorns pricking your chest when she dismisses your advice so easily as if she never learned anything from her hopeless romance just a week ago.

You bite your lip and decide to have some soda. You’re not yet leaving but you most definitely won’t wait for her to go home with you. You just have to soften the heavy walls building on your chest so you won’t sleep tonight crying. You hate doing that.

Another glass of soda and a plate of lime later, ten minutes have passed with just you indulging on a combo you know will be frowned upon by other bar patrons. Ten minutes of doing just that is also enough for you to notice the man in a navy button-down by your left was now a little too close to you. You saw him seated on the far left of the bar, about three feet from you prior to your argument with Lucy. He was ducked on the table, shoulders hunched, which guaranteed you no opportunity to assess his face before. Now, he’s by your side, elbow brushing against your jacket and back straightened enough to see a cringe-worthy smile he’s sending your way. You don’t manage to make out his whole face though because his disheveled brown locks were covering about half of his face. You take your focus back on your plate. Your grasp on your glass tightens. There’s no need to panic. Maybe the stranger transferred seats because your spot has closer proximity to the shelves where the bartender is situated. Maybe he’s sober and you’re just making this whole situation blow out of proportion in your head. Maybe–

“Hi, doll. You seem tense. Wanna come over to my place to loosen up?” His breath against the shell of your ear makes the hair on your neck rise. Your shoulders stiffen and you gulp. You could feel a ghost of a hand looming on the exposed skin from your ripped jeans. Warning bells wail in your head.

“I’m not interested,” you mutter between gritted teeth. You don’t look his way as you swat his hand away that was about to rest on your knee. You don’t want to make a scene when you’re about to finish your drink and leave this hole of a bar. You’ve had enough drama for the night already.

However, the man seems to turn deaf because he smiles at you again. “Oh, don’t play hard to get now, doll. I know you want it. You’ve been staring at me earlier.” His alcohol-stained breath fans against your face and despite what you said earlier, he places his hand on your knee, grazes your clothed skin, and then gropes the swell of your thigh.

Motherfucking hell–

“Hey, man, can you please take your hands off my girl.”

A voice from another stranger blares behind you and you freeze in your spot. What the fuck, now you have another gross man to deal with?! You grunt in annoyance and whipped your head to the side to finally yell the fuck out to these creeps. Social conventions be damned. You’re gonna make a scene. However, the man behind you holds you on the curve of your shoulders, not too tight to hurt yet not loose enough for you to turn in your seat. You furrow your brows, bewildered. You lean away slightly to get a glimpse of this man’s face but it didn’t do much because his bleached blonde fringe is almost covering his eyes and a midnight black mask was pulled over the lower half of his face. Now you’re just terribly confused. Is he a wanted criminal to cover up almost majority of his face or is he severely ill with something much worse than the common cold? You don’t know whether to trust this man or be wary of him.

“I don’t know man,” the drunk creep slurs, hand still poised too comfortably on your thigh. You wriggle in your seat but the man keeps his hold on you firm. The stranger smirks at you, then to the stranger behind you. “From what I know, this girl is my chic. Go find your own, dickhead.”

What the absolute fucking shit–You found your rage already growing the best of you and you swat his hand repeatedly but the man grips your thigh even tighter. You open your mouth to scream at the the drunk out of mixed pain, anger, and frustration–but the guy behind your back beats you to it again.

“Look, man. Take your fucking hands off my girl before I call the cops. She’s my soulmate.”

At the mention of ‘soulmate,’ the drunk man lets go of your thigh as if his hands were burned. He raises both arms to show he’s not touching any part of you anymore and before you could say something back at him–to redeem yourself and at least roast him into his next life–the guy behind you has already grabbed you by your shoulders, taking you in tow as he walks in fast, short steps towards the exit of the bar.

The chilling wind of September slaps you in the face and even if you’re still shaken up from the whole deal earlier, you still have your brain on your head to make out the dark interior of the semi-vacant parking lot of the bar. Another set of warning bells blare inside your mind and you thrash your arms around, never caring who you’ll hit or if you’ll be hit, just to break free from the hold of the stranger. You’re not going to get kidnapped after being just indecently hitted on! The man instantly lets you go but it doesn’t put him in any good light for you not to turn around and raise an accusatory finger at him.

“YOU! Just who do you think you are to hold and take me out here?! Who–”

The man pulls down his black mask and immediately, words die in your throat. It’s his drooped eyelids and warm brown eyes that hits you first, then it’s the small slope of his nose and the soft curves of his full, pink lips. Your eyes fleet toward the side of his face and goddamn, the long silver earrings dangling on his pierced ears were the same ones you were ogling at an online article you were reading yesterday.

Your eyes widen and your jaw falls open in shock. “You-you-you’re–”

Some random stranger was grabbing you by the shoulders earlier and now in front of you is fucking Park Jimin. Park Jimin, vocalist and dancer of BTS, the biggest boy band in the world who sang tracks upon tracks that earned the greatest number of music show awards in history. Park Jimin, member of BTS who performs in sold-out concerts in countless stadiums around the world. Park Jimin, the famed contemporary dancer from Busan, the beautiful man whose full lips and gentle eyes you’ve continuously written about in countless fanfictions since you started stanning BTS. Park Jimin, the person who may or maybe not have been your ultimate celebrity crush and the object of your both innocent and not-so-innocent fantasies for six years now. Goddamn, is he Park Jimin, the boy you straightaway took a liking to ever since you saw him in his cringe-worthy snapback and No More Dream black jersey ensemble in BTS’ 2013 debut music video.

Your jaw twitches. “Oh my–Oh my God. You-you–”

“Wait, don’t panic!” Jimin reaches for your trembling fingers and then you feel it–the explosion. Blinding silvery fireworks seem to go off behind your eyes as hot white combustions fill your chest for a millisecond before their aftereffects register in a series of numbing kaleidoscope of feelings running hot and wild. Your body is tingling, your chest is burning, and searing pain is engraving its way down your arm from where the man touched you. You immediately pull up the sleeves of your jacket and there you see it–tens, no, hundreds of vibrant, yellow daffodils growing an inked garden in astounding speed from a bloom that has looped around your left ring finger. The blooms spread towards your elbow, creeping even further up to your chest where you can see a bud already peeking out on the skin exposed from your low-cut white tee. Your mouth remains open in shock. You clasp your right hand on your newly-tattooed left arm only for you to mumble a faint “oh my god” when you see your right hand–and right arm–also inked with the same yellow flowers.

Still hunched over, your eyes fleet towards the stranger–towards Park Jimin, and it was only then you manage to let out audible words again. “You’re-you’re–”

“–your soulmate.”

��“–Park, Jimin.”

Jimin smiles, “Oh, you know me already. This wasn’t so hard as I thought.”

You don’t register what he said, still caught up on the instant sleeves you are now sporting and the outlandish word the man in front of you spouted. “My soulmate,” you trail off, voice softening into a little above a whisper, “my–my soulmate. Oh my god.”

Unaware of the war going on in your mind, Jimin chuckles. “Yeah, I’m your soulmate. I already know. You don’t have to repeat it again and again. It’s true–”

“Out of all people, why you?!”

Jimin’s face falls. “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

“I–you–ugh!” you throw your hands up and cover your face in hopeless dismay.

Jimin is more confused than he has ever been in his whole life. “Hey, what do you mean? What’s wrong with me?”

Your eyes peek out from your hands and you see the distance Jimin has closed between the two of you as now his beautiful, perfect face is practically shoved in front of you. A gunfire inside your head resounds and you blow up. “You! What’s wrong is that you’re Park Jimin! Manggae of BTS who sing in sold out concerts in every goddamn country and the youngest recipients of the Order of the Cultural Merit from South Korea and are now the biggest boyvband in the world!” You huff out, breathless. And then you pale. Oh my god, did you just word-vomited–

“I didn’t know you know me that well,” Jimin giggles. “That’s great! We’re off to a good start!”

Confusion flickers in your eyes for only a second before it turns into aggravation. “Why is this not bothering you?! You’re an idol!”

Jimin nods, “Yeah, I’m an idol. And I’m also your soulmate.” He takes a step toward you and you take one back. Seeing the apprehension in your tensed form, he doesn’t push further and instead opts to place his hands in the pockets of his ink black leather jacket. “Don’t you know why I came just in time before that drunk jerk even tried to further push his sick plan?”

You don’t answer him, still shaken up from everything that’s suddenly happening.

Jimin just smiles. “I felt you’re near and you’re distressed and anxious. Soulbond, as people say. I went with my gut feeling and I proved it true when I saw you at the bar with that man. It’s a soulmate thing. And oh, I also have this.” Jimin pulls up his sleeve and raises his left hand, flashing you his ring finger inked with a daffodil looped around it just as yours. His tattoo didn’t spread into a sleeve, hinted by the clear skin peeking from the seams of his leather jacket toward the rest of his hand. But still, his inked ring is undeniably a daffodil bloom just like yours. Jimin smirks, “I told you, I’m your soulmate.

You could hear your heart pulsing loud against your ears and you could still feel your veins thrumming with the aftershocks of the explosions of stuff you don’t want to label anything that is already connected to the grinning boy in front of you. You open your mouth only for you to close it again. You cannot deny his statement when two full sleeves of tattooed flowers bloomed right in front both of your eyes. He’s your soulmate and that’s undeniable. However, a different chaos brews in your mind again when you remember that this man in front of you was very much the celebrity you have fawned over for the entire latter six years of your life. You must have weirded him out already when you blurted out the achievements of his group earlier. You cannot let yourself further creep him out by telling him you’ve always raved about him, dare even adored him way, way back then before this very night. Sure, you’ve never believed in this soulmate thing for 17 years of your life but it doesn’t mean you didn’t know about love nor experienced it. Your three ex-crushes under your belt and your six-long stable years of intense crushing on this boy in front of you (that even prompted you to write cheesy romance and dirty filth about him in your still-very-alive tumblr writing account) are enough to color your single-as-fuck-since-you-were-born life with enough joy and pain. But anyway, you can’t let him know everything about this. It’s too embarrassing. It will definitely make him run for the hills just like your three ex-crushes.

You wouldn’t have to do all of this hassle in the first fucking place if Park Jimin is not your fucking soulmate. Goddamn it, you didn’t even imagine in your whole life you will actually fucking say that ridiculous “s” word.

Frowning again, you storm off.

Jimin laughs and joins you in your furious steps outside the parking lot.

***

Unlike your initial plan of running away, you didn’t know you will actually stay with Jimin into the night as he rambles about future date plans.

Half past ten, the two of you are seated in Aunt Marie’s, a 24/7 retro-themed diner you frequent every finals week for late night dinners. Massive cheeseburgers are on your plates and Jimin is seated across you, sporting the mask you have seen on him earlier.

You drop your utensils and sigh. “See? This won’t work. How the hell will we date if your face is always covered with that?”

“I didn’t know you’re already thinking about dating me.” Jimin’s eyes sparkle as he sets his elbow on the table, cupping his face. “I’m liking this fast pace so far.”

You didn’t know this man can easily evade your question by getting sidetracked like a pesky toddler. You purse your lips, unamused. “I’m not thinking about dating you. I’m just laying out a general probability for anyone who will date you. Don’t get ahead so fast, you don’t even know me.”

“You know me.” Jimin shrugs. “At least that’s a headstart.” You glare at him and he laughs. Jimin continues, “We have lots of time to know each other. That’s why we’re here.”

“Correction, we’re here because you told me you’re starving and this is the only near place I know that serves good food this late in the night.”

“Which means we get to know each other,” Jimin repeats, smile turning into a grin. “I could have brought us to a place I know but you insisted going here, hence I learn tonight that you like eating at Aunt Marie’s. Therefore, we are here to eat and also learn about each other. It is inevitable.” You sigh in defeat and Jimin smirks at his victory. “Also, I can eat, look.” He slices his burger, pulls down his mask and shoves a piece in his mouth, and then pulls up his mask on again. You can’t see his teasing smile but you could tell he’s already giggling because his cheeks grow rounder, making his eyes turn into crescent moons. Slicing another piece, Jimin says, “So, can I know more about you, Y/N?”

Your mouth opens again like a blubbering fish. “Wait, how did you know my name? I haven’t told you my name yet.”

For a second, you see his eyes widen but it passes like a blur when you find yourself starting to like the mischievous glint shining in his warm eyes. Jimin shrugs and answers, “It’s a soulmate thing.”

You cringe and Jimin chortles. Okay, you take it back. You don’t like the mischievous glint if he does that while saying that ridiculous “s” word. When his snickers die down, Jimin repeats his question, “So, can I now know more about you, Y/N?”

You dab your napkin on your lips and sigh for the nth time. “Well, everything about me is as plain as plain Jane can be. Name’s Y/N L/N, only child from a middle-class family. I had a quite nice childhood, playing here and there, making many…friends.” You can’t help but cringe at the word, quite unsure if you could ever tell your neighbors who consulted you during community debates were your friends. You want to make a good impression even if you weren’t still sold into this soulmate phenomenon. Unlike back then, you weren’t too fond of people seeing you less of what you are now. You pushed on, “Until middle school came and I learned how friendships work only if everyone gets to free-ride on projects and you carry the whole group.”

Jimin snorts, “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

“That asshole’s name is Kim Yeonjun. I still remember the cookie he stole from my lunchbox. Never gonna forgive him.” Your serious front breaks out into snickers and Jimin follows suit. “Anyway, I didn’t know my life will get more boring until high school came and our teachers taught us in detail about Vandikes and Weber’s soulmate science–”

“Wait, this soulmate thing has a science behind it?” Jimin looks at you, eyes round.

“Well, yeah,” you reply, brows scrunched. “Your teachers didn’t tell you about them? It was like the only thing any kid will actually remember from studying next to reading and writing.”

“I don’t remember anything about such science. I studied in a performing arts school in Busan.”

You look at him incredulous, “Impossible! It’s more likely you’ll know about the soulmate science before you even learn how to read. Parents already start the red string of fate bullshit as soon as their kid starts to speak gibberish. It’s impossible to leave out anyone from the soulmate science since everyone was raving about it–teens, adults, and even kids.”

“Do you rave about it?”

The furrows on your forehead deepen. “What? No!”

“Well, that’s not everyone,” Jimin leans on his seat. “So, people like me who’ve never heard of such science are justified.”

“Touché” you agree, “but that doesn’t mean you’ll get away without learning at least a two or thing about it because teachers start to teach soulmate science in basic sciences at the end of middle school.” You lean forward, eyes challenging his. “And everyone studies basic sciences in middle school. Heck, you even mentioned soulbond earlier. You’re just probably asleep when your teacher taught it in class.”

“Okay, I surrender my fight,” Jimin mutters and you laugh.

“So long story short, Vandikes and Weber first discovered the biological proof of the soulmate phenomenon. They show how neural interconnections of two soulmates transmit info to each other at the same time even when they’re in two different countries. Which then means the soul connection and all other soulmate systems are scientifically accepted as a truth now than just some folklore.”

“Wait, what’s the soul connection?”

“It’s the soulmate system where two soulmates get to read or hear each other’s thoughts. It’s the phenomenon Vandikes and Weber witnessed while formulating their biological proof. Also, it’s rare. Only five couples were recorded to have that system. One of them was the participants of Vandikes and Weber’s study.”

Jimin hums and you continue with your story, “Anyway, I was surrounded by screaming teenagers desperately looking for their soulmates and all that cringey stuff while I busy myself with studies because that’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“And you’re busy loving pre-debut BTS.”

You choke on your burger, eyes wide before you glare at him. How did he know? The guilt on your face must be evident because Jimin starts breaks into a laughing fit that other people (a couple of nightowl teens and couples) look at your way. In your defense, 2013 you didn’t know any better and just spent hours googling BTS and buying posters with each members’ faces on them (with always an extra poster of Jimin’s solo picture everytime you buy a bundle) instead of getting a social life. At least 2013 you were smart enough to realize you’re broke and you can’t afford to buy albums yet when you’re already struggling just to get your hands on required textbooks your teachers assign. You maintain your pointed look at him, refusing to admit to his very much true statement. You don’t want him to know even when the proof is right in your home–the posters you collected for three years, rolled up and still tucked in the corner of your closet. You never found it in yourself to dispose them even after every annual promise to throw them away.

Jimin sniggers before he cues for you to continue on. “Sorry, it wasn’t funny.”

“Anyway,” you stuff your face with the last piece of your burger and swallowed it, “I got high honors and got into my dream college. I realized next to studying, I was good at arguing–

“–so true–”

“–so I decided to go into law school.” You send Jimin another glare for his (very true) remark and he smiles. “So here I am now into my first year in law school, flunking every essay, and currently worth minimum wage.”

Jimin nods in interest, “Where do you work?”

“Oh gee, I didn’t know you’re into asking occupations of your date like every other cliche dates.”

You see Jimin’s eyes spark in interest and you regret what you just blurted out. “Oh, so you do see this as a date.”

“Nooo,” you groan, heat already creeping up on your cheeks, almost like a wildfire. What the hell is happening to you? You always know how to control your word vomit; you’re never impulsive when it comes to speaking out. You’re a law student for Christ’s sake!

“Don’t worry, I also see this as a date.” You could feel Jimin’s stare linger on your warm cheeks. You snug deeper into your jacket, wishing for the ground to break open and eat you up. Instead of further teasing you, Jimin repeats his question. “So, where do you work?”

“At Petal Hill,” you mumble. “It’s a flowershop two blocks away from my flat.”

“Oh, a flowershop. Then, you must probably be knowledgeable of a lot of flowers.”

“Yeah” you answer, a smile instantly tugging on your lips. “I get to recommend the best bouquets and sets to my customers, not to mention I have great grasp on the flower language to help them pick flowers they want to convey their messages through.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, I get to understand your confusing I Need You and Run music videos just with the two flowers used alone,” you blurt, thinking fondly of your Tumblr text-post, the only one that got you over 300 notes, where you wrote flower theories about BTS’ music videos. However, the moment you see Jimin gawking at what you said, it’s too late to undo what’s already let out in the open air.

“Really? Oh my god, I never even knew the meaning behind those flowers. The directors just tell us to sit here, hold this or that, and do sad-emo-boi hours.”

You stifle a giggle but it comes out unsuccessful when you break out into a huge grin, “You– what?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jimin laughs, “We actually knew the plot of the music videos and internalized the characters assigned to us. But really, I never knew the flowers alone are a huge hint to the whole story.”

“Well, my time to shine has finally arrived,” you grin, finding the need to stretch out your arms comically like how Tom does when he’s smug about catching Jerry. “The most iconic flower you guys used again and again is the white lily. Although the flower means rebirth, royalty, and purity with its delicate yet grand petals, they are often associated with funerals. White lilies symbolize the restored innocence the departed soul receives after death. That’s why the moment the music video flashes Seokjin’s character spreading six lily petals on the floor, I already knew either all your six characters or Seokjin’s, will die, before the video even reached to your guys’…sad-emo-boi hours.” Jimin nods in interest and you continue, “The Japanese version of the music video for I Need You was a large give-away since the large masses of flowers surrounding Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook’s characters resemble like the clump of flowers thrown at a coffin being buried.” You gulp, “Anyway, going to the lighter side because I don’t want to dwell on such grim topics, the second flower you guys used that caught my eye was the blue rose.”

“Oh yeah, that one!” Jimin eyes glimmer in recognition. “It was the only flower we used in the Run music video. What’s its meaning?”

“Impossible love.” You said, lips forming a thin line. “Blue roses don’t occur in nature because roses do not have the specific gene to produce such color. Instead, they are made by placing blue dye into the bark of the roses’ roots. Since it’s impossible to produce blue roses naturally without artificial means, these roses mean impossible love. So when the video flashes the blue rose in the background of Yoongi and Jungkook’s characters fighting, it can be said their familial love for each other, as they were depicted like brothers in the videos, will be unable to mend the wreckage of their characters.”

“Wow, I didn’t know it’s possible to reach to such accurate perception with the flowers alone.”

“Then are my theories true?” You lean forward.

“Yeah, on Jungkook and Yoongi’s characters being brothers and their strained familial bond. Also with the connotation of the lilies, although,” Jimin leans forward, too, smirking, “I wouldn’t reveal to you who really died or didn’t in the music videos.”

You scoff. “Wow, such torture. You’ve been keeping the fans in the shadows about the story far too long.”

“Not my choice, blame Big Hit. The concept team just tells us anyway the plot when we have to shoot them so you can say I’m also in the dark” Jimin shrugs. “Also, I want to keep you on your toes, making theories and analyses. They interest me. How did you easily connect the dots?”

“I’m a part-time florist. And, I took English literature as my undergraduate study. The plot analyses and the story critiques we did really grew in me.”

“Oh wow,” Jimin gasps, leaning back. “My god, I didn’t know you were so out of my league!”

“What?” Out of his league? Is he fucking crazy? He’s the one across you who’s got millions of followers, followed everywhere by the media, known and loved in every country, not to mention, worth of millions of dollars. And you’re here, who’s got millions of bills to pay, followed by countless work and university deadlines, barely spared a glance from the people in your university and work, and you hate to mention again, worth minimum wage. Hell, you could tell Jimin’s face is glowingly beautiful even with his mask pulled on while you’re here, probably sporting a full oily face look. By all blatant circumstances, he’s the one who’s out of your league.

At the sight of your frown, Jimin’s hands wave in front of you, trying to dismiss any misunderstanding. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just–I didn’t know you’re such an intellectual. You read lots of books and do analyses and you’re so damn good in arguing. You always get me convinced. I haven’t done anything yet in our date but gawk and say ‘wow’ like a kid. I don’t…want to look stupid in front of you.”

“You’re not.”

“Huh?”

You clear your throat. “You’re not stupid. And no, you didn’t just ‘gawk and say wow’ at me. You did a good job arguing with me earlier…about the ‘date.’ And that takes a lot because it looks like you’re having fun doing this friendly debate with me when people curse me for being so adamant in arguments.”

“Why would they curse you? There’s nothing wrong in fighting for what you think is right.”

You shrug, “They got nothing substantial to say so they resort to shaming you for what you know. Sick way of lifting yourself above others. Anyway, why don’t you fire me some flower questions you have in mind? I’m in the mood to go all out in my flower-nerdiness today.”

“Okay, so…what do you think is the best flower to give for your friends?”

“Pink tulips are automatic to-gos. They mean ‘I care for you’ and also ‘good wishes’ so they’re also perfect for joyful gatherings. Pear blossoms also do the trick as they mean lasting friendship.” You glance upwards and hum before you return your eyes to Jimin, excitement thrumming in your nerves, “Oh, and Arborvitaes may not be popular but they’re the perfect flowers to give to a friend if you want to have ‘everlasting friendship.’”

“Hmm, then what about the best one to give to your parents?”

“Flowers of gratefulness are the top candidates. Campanulas, azaleas, and dark pink roses all mean gratitude and thankfulness.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that next time I buy flowers for my mom,” Jimin smiles. “I always go for red roses every damn single time.”

“It’s the classic. Can’t blame you though, it has the most generic message applicable to many kinds of relationships.”

“Yeah, really?”

“Yeah, they mean true love–True love for your friend, true love for your parent, or true love for your significant other. People usually use the connotation of “true love” for romantic relations when it’s actually applicable to familial bonds and friendships. After all, all of these relationships require truthfulness and love at the same time.”

Jimin’s mouth forms an o-shape. “Oh, I never really thought of that.”

“Well now you know,” you grin.

“Inked and stamped now, ma’am,” Jimin slaps his palm on his head and you giggle. At your laugh, Jimin smile grows bigger. “Okay, here’s another one: what flower is the best one to give to your mortal enemy?”

“Are you insane? Who gives flowers to their mortal enemy?”

Jimin shrugs. “Why not?”

“Disregarding the money and time you’re wasting picking these flowers for such person,” you squint your eyes at him and Jimin laughs, “you should definitely go for foxgloves and orange lilies. They literally mean ‘Fuck you’ to the hardest core.”

“‘Fuck you’ in what sense?” Jimin teases.

You easily go along with it, mischief easily brewing inside your head. “They mean ‘fuck you’ as a curse, but if you mean the suggestive ‘fuck you’ then go for balsams. Though they may not be that arousing because they have these large, curving petals that look worn and limp, and you DON’T want to imply you’re like that flower.”

Jimin guffaws, “Then why do they mean ‘fuck you’ if they’re not the least bit attractive?”

“I don’t know, blame the Victorians who invented this floriography. Preferences change over time anyway so we can’t blame them for thinking balsams back then are ahhhsm.”

You’re co-workers always found that joke dry and lame and yet in front of you, Jimin laughs as he holds his stomach, even finding the need for his other hand to slap the table again and again. At this rate, he’s toning his abs from how hard he tries to keep his laughter not loud enough to disturb other customers. Despite the forming grin on your face, you found the need to say, “Okay, sorry that came out really, really suggestive.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jimin assures. “I was the one who insinuated the suggestive themes anyway. I don’t mind at all.”

“Me too,” you gulp. “It’s cool that we get to sit and chat like this without worrying about anything sexual.”

“…Yeah, I agree,” Jimin tugs his shirt and clears his throat. “Anyway, what flower is the best one to give to your significant other? The most romantic one, the one that will instantly make your heart flutter?”

“Well,” your fidget in your seat, “that depends on what the significant other likes. Flowers may hold different meanings but the preference for them still largely relies on the recipient.”

“What do you like to receive?”

You look at him, gaze questioning any ulterior intentions, any flirtatious comebacks he wants to blurt after possibly faking interest about such important topic. But when he tilts his head, waiting for your answer, you can’t help but blindly disregard your doubts and just answer his question. “I think pansies would be enough for me.”

“Pansies?”

“Yeah… They have these delicate, round petals and they’re resilient whether the sun beats too harsh on them or the winter almost freezes them to their roots. Whatever weather, whatever place they live in, they’ll always, always live. I guess that’s why they mean ‘You’re always in my mind.’ There’s nothing more infectious, more resilient, than any disease but a constant thought. That’s why I think being always in someone’s mind is a lot. To have a significant other that gets to see you, feel you, hear you, smell you, even taste you without them being aware of it is already akin to…love. You can’t control what passes through your mind, much less on what or who stays in it. But it doesn’t matter,” you laugh awkwardly, throat hurting in the process. “I’m not into receiving flowers. They’re over-the-top and they wilt and I just have to throw them away when they served all their worth.”

“But what would you do if someone is willing to give you those pansies everyday, help you clean them away when they wilt, and assure you a new batch will make its way to you again?”

“Then…I will accept it. Gifts are free and my labor will be lessened.”

Jimin leans back, eyes shining. “I will make sure then to drop by in your shop and buy you a bouquet of those to make up for my lack of gifts for our date today.”

You scoff at him. “You’re buying flowers right from my workplace to give to me? That’s not romantic.”

“Wanna see me come over with a suit and tie, then?”

“Oh my god, why are you like this?” you wail, palms covering your face. You’ve always adored Jimin’s unwavering determination in their reality shows, however, having him here in front of you showing you this stubbornness is something else. You don’t know whether to hit him or kiss him. Wait, what–

“How about this then?” you feel Jimin’s fingers part your hands away from your face and a breath gets stuck in your throat. He has leant forward, mask pulled down to his jaw, and his eyes trained straight towards yours. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away, too absorbed in Jimin’s intense stare. The thought that his vision is probably just filled with you and nothing else just like how your eyes only frame his entire face makes you queasy in your seat. You’ve never had someone look at you this, sincere and so open before that your long-time indignation to real-life romance and the whole soulmate thing has rendered you incapable of thinking what you should do–or if you should actually do anything than just get lost in another person’s eyes. You see Jimin’s lips pull into a soft curve of a smile. “Is this romantic enough?”

Before you could choke on your own spit and indulge in awkward silence you know you’ll probably won’t get out of, a foreign voice by your side breaks your little bubble with Jimin. You glance to your left and a tall waiter bows. “Sorry to interrupt you, ma’am, sir, but would you like to order some dessert?”

You look down at your plates to find everything in miniscule bits and crumbs, your meals completely finished. You sneak a peek at your wristwatch. It’s only 10:51, just mere twenty minutes have passed since you stepped onto the diner’s black and white tiles. You never imagined time could run so fast with another person invading your space than just your comfort zone.

You see Jimin turn to the waiter. “Oh, no we’re finished. Can we ask for the bill?”

Wait, you’re already finished? So soon? Your scrunched forehead must have gave out everything you’re thinking because Jimin turns to you and says, “I want to show you to some place. My turn to let you learn more about me.”

Indifferent to the exchange between you two, the waiter hands Jimin the receipt. “Here it is, sir.”

“Okay,” Jimin hands the payment on the waiter’s awaiting hands and you gape as you flounder for your own wallet. Jimin dismisses you. “I got this. You can pay me later.” He turns back to the waiter, “Thank you for the service.”

“Thank you, too, sir.” The waiter returns and when you see him smile at Jimin again, his voice trails off and his eyes squint at the man across you. “Say, sir…you really look like Park Jimin from BTS.”

“No.” Jimin’s smile drops into a frown and he quickly pulls up his mask.

“No, really! I’ve been staring at you earlier and I can’t deny the similarities!” the waiter insists and you see his eyes spark in recognition. “You have the similar droopy eyes and familiar voice. Oh yeah, Jimin’s blonde hair on yesterday’s Music Bank is the same as yours–wait, don’t tell me,” The waiter pauses and raises his index finger to Jimin, “you’re the Park Jimin himself?” Jimin glances at you in panic and the waiter catches the small movement of denial. “Oh my god, you are Park Jimin! Damn, man, can I get an autograph? My sister loves you so much!”

Neither you nor Jimin were able to say a thing after that, nor did you get a chance. The customers that didn’t care about your presence twenty minutes ago are now looking at your way with full, intent stares.

“Jimin? Park Jimin? That singer from BTS?”

“Jimin is here?!”

“Oh my god, it is him! It’s Jimin! It’s the same hair color and jacket and earrings he wore in tonight’s V Live!”

In the next second, everyone is screaming and rushing out of their tables to approach you.

You’re frozen in your seat, chills rising in succession in your feet, arms, and spine. Crowds of faces were shoved right against your face, bunches of arms reaching and grabbing and thrashing around, and the screams and hollers were so loud they turn into garbled white noise. It’s like the zombie apocalypse except the creatures grabbing at you are still real, living people.

“Jimin! Jimin!”

“Oh my god, Jimin’s with a girl!”

“Hey, Jimin, look here!”

“Jimin, please sign this!”

“Wait, is that Jimin’s girlfriend?”

“Jimin, can I take a picture with you?”

“Jimin, who’s that girl?!”

“Jimin, I love you!”

The next moments are a blur. A second ago, jumpy teens and young adults were crowding your table, screaming and thrashing around. In the next second, Jimin has his hand clasped around yours, pulling you fast out of your table and out of the door. And now you’re here, running on the city street, your steps pounding on the cold pavement in heavy beats as a thunderous stampede follows close behind your tail.

You’re finding it hard to take in all that is happening that the sudden pull on your arm toward your right has you dizzy and almost nauseous.

“What’s ha-happening?”

Jimin sneaks a glance at you and then back on the street. “Our fans are chasing us. Keep running. We don’t want them to ruin our date.”

You purse your lips and will your legs to keep up with his pace. You’re about to chide him for what he said but you decide against it and just kept your mouth shut. You can’t bite back a witty comeback when you’re running out of breath.

Huffing, he pulls down his mask to take a breath. “C’mon, let’s run faster!”

The city whizzes by you, multicolored houses meshing into straight lines and warped shapes in a fast-forwarded reel. The streetlights overhead promise another corner to turn to and the pavement below your feet remains constant in its grayness and never-ending stretch. You and Jimin run and turn to corner after corner and it wasn’t until you’re stepping on the fifth street from your run do you realize your hand is still clasped in his.

It feels weird to have another hand next to yours, much less a hand with fingers that oddly perfectly fill each gap between yours. What’s more odd is that you are comfortable, running to god knows where, hand in hand with a stranger. Well, Jimin’s not technically a stranger, given that you’ve known about him onscreen for six years, but still, everything feels too new and strange especially when he’s your…soulmate.

The sleeve of your jacket has ridden upward your arm and your eyes immediately caught your inked daffodils. You’ve let your eyes miss their beauty in your shock earlier. But now, you can’t help but stare at awe when the flowers’ yellow petals rival the golden daylight as if the moonlight above has reflected every bit of the sun’s shine onto the art inked on your arms. You’ve never heard of this kind of soulmate system before, nor its strange incongruity with Jimin’s soulmate system. What is truly strange, is you’re already finding yourself dismissing any doubts about them. It’s horrifying that you can’t seem to care about anything anymore because all you could feel is…joy. Everything feels too perfect like a dream. Maybe it is true that you’re actually dreaming because as far as you’re concerned, the soulmate systems have ousted you since you were born. Everything about this daffodil sleeves and Jimin are probably just conjured by your unconscious, trying to make you feel better to ease the guilt of ruining Lucy’s night. You’ll wake up to your alarm to another shitty day in law school and then –

“JIMIIIIIIN!”

Unlike your expectations, it is a blaring scream that wakes you up to your senses.

“Where’s Jimin?!”

“There, there! I can see his blonde hair AHHH!!!!”

“Jimin! Don’t run away from us!”

And then, you’re running fast again, lungs squeezing in short breaths as Jimin pulls you to corner after corner, maneuvering you in and out of street after street. Your legs are starting to numb from exhaustion but before you could start to whine at Jimin for a short break to rest, he has already pulled you into a dark, narrow alleyway crammed between two clothing retail stores. Only a few seconds later, a mass of shouting teens runs past the street. You turned your face away, holding your breath in until the last one behind them misses your hiding spot, only finding it permissible to breathe again when the fans’ loud voices dissipate in the next corner.

When you turn your head back to your front, you’re met with Jimin’s own flustered face. Only mere inches separate your lips from brushing against each other. Words are caught in your throat as you let your eyes take in his flushed state: his fringes matted on his forehead, his pink lips parted as he huffs, his ears reddened from the cold, and his warm brown eyes that reflect your own blushing face. If everything that has happened tonight really turns out to be a dream, you hope your sleep could be long enough to let you drag this night for as long as you could.

“What are you staring at?”

You’re suddenly brought back to where you are, pressed uncomfortably against the cold walls of the alley. Your eyes instantly moved down to your feet and with the motion, you caught a glowing thing sitting right atop on your left ring finger. It takes you a second to realize that the yellow glow is coming from the inked daffodil on your ring finger. Your daffodil ring is glowing like a fucking firefly. Your eyes widen and they fleet upward to meet Jimin’s eyes, your mouth gaping. “I–uh-uh–um–”

Jimin raises his eyebrows, lips curving upwards. “Can’t get enough of my beautiful face?”

“What? No!” You turn away and scowl, hoping the night could cool down the heat forming on your cheeks. You frantically pull the sleeves of your oversized jacket to hide your glowing tattoo.

“Don’t need to be defensive. You can stare as long as you want, Y/N. After all,” Jimin raises his index finger and gestures to his face and down to his body, “you own all of these.”

Your eyes twitch and your lips form an unamused frown. Jimin laughs.

Jimin was the first one to squeeze out from the narrow space and you follow next. Despite your reaction earlier, you find it necessary to keep the frown on your face. You try to not let it show how much his words are making your heart pound loud and proud against your ears.

You clear your throat. “You’ve got some serious fans out there.”

Sighing, Jimin takes off the mask pulled under his jaw and stuffs it in his jacket pocket. “Ah, yeah. We always get that occasional…warm greeting whenever we land at airports. I guess we’re already used to that.”

“Warm?! It’s borderline harassment!”

“They’re just…excited to see me, that’s all. I can’t complain because I signed up for this when I decided to pursue this career.”

“But still! That doesn’t mean they get to shove their faces to you and scream and demand you to take pictures with them or sign this or that. You still have your personal space and people should respect that. You’re still a human being, Chim.”

Jimin stares at you before he breaks into a chuckling fit. “I didn’t know we’re on the stage to be making petnames for each other now, Y/Nie.”

You gulp as you feel your cheeks heat up again. “I’m serious!”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just joking to laugh off the heartbeats I hear pounding loud in my chest. You look at him, brows furrowed. Jimin shrugs. “I can’t help it. You make me feel like this.”

You clear your throat again, diverting the conversation to where you are before he got sidetracked. “Anyway, can’t you get like a restraining order on them or something?”

“You know that’s impossible.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just pissed off.” He looks at you smirking, and before he can come up with another cheesy line, you spoke out, “For you! Pissed off for you, yeah. Any person shouldn’t go through such trauma.” Jimin nods and you ramble on, “I only saw you guys’ airport fiascos on fancams. I never knew a toned down version of those like this will be already this bad. Heck, I’m already trembling with just a couple of fans hot on our toes, what more for you guys who get pushed and shoved and grabbed here and there by a flock of them. It’s goddamn scary and infuriating. If I were in your shoes I would have dropped down and screamed and cried. I’m glad I didn’t push my stupid 17-year-old dream of becoming an idol. I can’t do that stuff.”

“I’m glad too you didn’t pursue that dream. I don’t want other men freely ogling my girl with no lawful repercussions.”

“’…Ew. Don’t say that again.”

“What?”

You blanch despite the heat gathering on your cheeks. “The ‘my girl.’ It’s cringey.”

“Oh hell no am I never gonna say that again if you’re blushing and being cute like this because of it. Oh my, Y/N, you can just say you like it! I can say it again if you want to–”

“Oh please, no–”

“My girl.”

“Shut up!”

“Ahh, you’re blushing more!”

***

The skyline has long deepened in an inky indigo blanket yet you can’t feel your eyes fluttering close any minute now. It’s true because about eleven thirty, you’re still busy chirping away flower meanings to Jimin who was attentive to every word down to every flower color, to notice you two have already reached the business area of the city. There were no more residential areas or any run-down bars. Skyscrapers stood tall and brooding on strict two sides of the road while cut-straight gravel streets measure a meter or two to separate establishments. Unlike the streets from the bar to the diner, which were colored in various hues of maroon, beige, blue, and occasional flickers of yellow, the buildings in front of you followed a narrow color palette of light gray to black. However, the gloomy vicinity did nothing to dim the colorful trivia-dump you’re doing with Jimin.

“Did you know, most yellow flowers usually have the most offensive meanings?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like the marigold. Despite being a vibrant flower, it actually means envy and jealousy. And oh, don’t get me started with carnations. I always find myself inquiring young men who came into the shop picking yellow carnations if the flowers were for a first date.”

“Why is that?” Jimin raises his brows.

“It’s a horrible choice for a first date! Yellow carnations mean disdain and you DON’T want to jinx a starting relationship with such a negative connotation.”

“What flower should I pick then for a first date?”

“Roses are safe. Red, pink, or white are definitely the charmers. White carnations also do the trick for you as they mean sweet love. Although I mentioned yellow flowers usually have the most offensive meanings, there’s one flower I know that stands out, the most perfect one I think for a first date.”

“What is it?”

“Sunflowers,” you grin. “Despite all their beauty and all that mechanism where they turn towards the sun’s direction, they are quite tedious to grow. They’re needy of nutrients. They drain the soil from its nutrients, hogging them that no other kind of plant should be placed near them as they will easily die. That’s why they carry the meaning of draining love. But you know what? Even if they’re draining, they hold one of the most delicate and romantic message”

“What is it?”

“Everlasting love,” you smile. “They may be quite draining but their beauty is worth every effort. See? Wouldn’t be that the perfect flower for a first date?”

Jimin nods. “Yeah, they are.” He looks at you, smiling and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling too wide.

When you turned to another street, Jimin asks, “Do you know another flower that holds such a…bittersweet message?”

“Yeah, spiderlilies. But you know, I think that flower has the saddest story to tell.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s the flower of parting. It–” You suddenly trail off and Jimin stops in his step the minute you pull his arm into a stop. “Wait, where are we? Why are we in the business part of the town?”

Jimin tilts his head, “I told you I’m gonna show you a place.”

“A place? In here?”

“Just trust me,” Jimin chuckles and he grabs your hand before you can utter another word.

After a couple of minutes weaving down two streets and turning two corners to the left, the two of you stand in front of a humongous gravel gray tower. It would have looked uptight and intimidating if it weren’t for its darkening edges, from the soot or age, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that Jimin is already pushing through the large glass double doors with you in tow.

“W-wait, what are you doing? This is trespassing and if you don’t know what it is, it’s illegal!”

“We’re not trespassing. Trust me.”

The furrows on your forehead deepen, anxiety grappling at the edges of your nerves, but you couldn’t do anything but follow him. You don’t want to admit your feet were walking on their own so you’re gonna blame Jimin for holding your hand too firmly.

The ground floor of the tower wasn’t that much. All it has was clean white walls and cream-tiled floors. Its reception desk wasn’t too grand with just a gold bell, a couple of stacked news articles cased to the side, and a fake Picasso painting hung behind it. You can tell it’s Picasso because it was the same painting you always stare at in the guidance counselor’s room, with a small black label printed “Picasso” underneath it. And you know it’s fake because the guidance counselor told you the original piece of that painting now resides in the residence of an old Italian antique collector. The two of you wound a corridor and passed two hallways before you stop in front of metal double-doors, the ones used for fire exits in hospitals. It has a built-in lock and by the way Jimin pushes the door without any advances, you know it’s locked. Jimin fumbles for the back pocket of his jeans and produces his wallet, taking a silver key tucked in its small flaps.

You gawk. “You have a key for this?”

Jimin doesn’t answer but smiles, inserting the key. When you hear the doors unlock, he pushes one open and gestures for you to come inside. You didn’t have any qualms and just followed him. You figured that if Jimin has the key, then what you’re doing is not trespassing, and you find yourself relaxing eventhough you’re boggled as to why Jimin possesses such key when his entertainment company is in another twenty-six storey building on the opposite side of town.

Jimin leads you down a wide hallway past the metal double-doors, now colored in gray walls and darker gray tiles instead of the standard white and cream of the rest of the ground floor. There were a couple of doors lining on the sides, each designated with a position of an authority you didn’t catch to read. At the end of the hallway, a set of stairs lead downwards and you find yourself yet again, waiting in front of another set of metal double doors as Jimin inserts another silver key into the built-in lock. He pushes the doors open and as you stepped inside, you feel your jaw drop to the floor.

In front of you was a skating rink, surrounded by glass partitions that measure about a meter. Black benches surround the rink like the ones you see in the hockey games inserted in films. However, unlike the ones you watched, the benches weren’t many enough to hold spectators of a game, and the rink was too small to hold a proper hockey game. It’s probably ideal only for recreational skating like the ones you went to with your mother whenever she feels like taking you out in winter.

You turn to Jimin. “What is this skating rink? I thought we were inside a business building.”

Jimin leans on one of the benches. “Me and my group always go here to let out stress. When we were stressing for our debut, when we need a breather for comebacks or, when the cameras and media were too much–we always go here. It’s a secret hangout place, tucked underneath this large corporate building.About 50 years ago, this building was like a winter sports complex. It has this large skating rink where monthly local competitions for hockey and curling are held. Sometimes, it’s lucky enough to hold regional competitions as this part of town was far from the business center back then. Aside from contests and trainings being held, anyone–kids, teens, adults–gets to arrange who uses the spare time from the fixed schedule of the complex for recreational hockey, curling, or just…skating round and round.” Jimin laughs. “Sometimes, the complex frees it schedule to invite anyone to come and skate for a downgraded price. You know, like how your local authorities turn the frozen lakes into a public skating area when winter comes.”

Jimin’s lips form a straight line, “However, business turned sour in the long run because another sports complex was built near the area, equipped with more supplies and employees. So the owner of the complex and the land had to sell their whole business because of that, and also because her family is going to migrate to the States. This skating rink was supposed to be taken down but the first owner of the land run back to this town and made an agreement with the buyer. Pleaded nothing will change from the negotiation except she’ll pay anything just for the buyer to keep the rink. She went all out with her money then. Even sold her house and her ancestor’s villa in Taiwan.”

“She…spent all her money for this?”

“Well, yeah. She did go almost bankrupt but at least she got to keep her skating rink before she died.” Jimin glances at you, waiting for a reply but when you just return a stare, he tilts his head in inquiry.

You pull on your sleeves. “I didn’t say she did bad choices…it’s just that–it’s a lot of risk. I don’t think anyone could do that but her.”

“Anyone can do that, it just depends what they’re willing to risk. Because–well, some things are just worth risking everything for.”

You stay silent, staring at him. Jimin chuckles and grabs your hand to lead you towards the locker room. He proceeds with his story, “The buyer built a commercial building but fulfilled his end of the agreement by keeping the rink. And when the buyer eventually handed over the building to his son, the skating rink was then cut into half as the 3rd owner got the building renovated and sold half of the land to another millionaire. The other section of the rink was turned into another building but this one remained because the owner’s son loved to skate whenever his dad brings him for bring-your-child-to-work day. Now the son, the current owner, kept this skating rink and even opened it to the public because unlike the previous owner, his dad, he’s fun and wants to let kids come into this concrete jungle just to play and hang out.”

“How do you know all of these?”

“I’m friends with the current owner. His name is Henry Kim, a friend from preschool, and I swear I never knew how filthy rich he was back then. We became friends because I got enticed by his story of the first land owner meeting her soulmate, her husband, in a local skating rink which inspired her to build the sports complex and even had the succeeding owners keep the rink. Henry even got me some articles about it to read. So now, I and the boys get to have alone time in here whenever we want, away from all the cameras and the media and the pizzaz. It’s a privilege, I know, given our…status, but I’d like to think it more as out of our friendship.” He turns back to smile at you. “It makes me warm.”

You didn’t know how to reply to his last statement so you just returned his smile and let his hand guide you to the locker rooms where you can strap on your skating shoes. It didn’t take you too long to lace up your skating shoes and waddle onto the rink because within just a couple of minutes, you’re already giggling, waltzing on the ice. It’s been a while since you let yourself enjoy like a child like this–free from societal pressure, success strife stress, and family expectations; to laugh aloud and feel nothing akin but being on top of the world just because of simple things like this–skating round and round.

“So you told me, it’s your turn to let me learn more about you,” you skid in front of Jimin, grinning. “When is that gonna happen? You’ve been rambling about on and on about a lot of other people.”

“Well, there isn’t much,” Jimin skates in time with you towards the east end of the rink. “I practically showed and revealed everything already on TVs and magazines.”

“Not true. You’re more than what the cameras show what you seem to be.”

“You’re a fan though. You practically already know everything about me.”

“Also not true. No one is capable of fully knowing everything about everyone. All you have is your perception of others and others’ perception of you, but they will never be enough to be everything about you nor others. People are like mirrors, you know. They see each other based on the images they envision them in so, they’re just staring at what their thoughts collectively created about another person. In the end, the only one who truly knows themselves are no one but themselves.” You sigh, turning to him and taking his hand as you let centripetal force control your balance and skate you backward. “How about this: you tell me things you’ve never told anyone before.”

“Okay,” Jimin agrees and he pulls you back to his side, hands still connected. “Do you know I used to dream of becoming a fisherman?”

“A fisherman? Do you even know how to fish?”

“Well…no. But you know how preschool assigns you this homework where you have to draw your dream?” You nod. “Well,” Jimin continues, “I don’t really have a dream for me back then and I can’t draw for the life of me. And then, I figured a fisherman is easy to draw because you just have to get the trapezoidal boat, the swirling waves, the stickman, and the two lines of a fishing rod right. You can add puffy clouds and the ‘m’ birds for background. After that, I convinced myself all I ever wanted is to be a fisherman and when I told that to my mother, she almost fainted.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle, “you just made up a dream for yourself out of a drawing?”

“Yeah, and it wasn’t the only scenario,” Jimin laughs. “By 3rd grade, I learned how to draw a motorcycle from sticks and circles so when the draw-your-dream assignment came up again, I upgraded my drawing skills and changed my dream: I now want to be a pizza delivery guy. Of course, I told my mom about it again and this time, she also upgraded: she chased me around with a slipper.”

“I understand your mom though,” you manage to chortle in between snickers. “Being a fisherman and a pizza delivery guy are honorable but they weren’t the greatest permanent jobs in this down-slope economy.”

“True,” Jimin agrees and this time, he lets himself skate backward, keeping his hold on your hand, firm. “Anyway, the rest is history. The media already wrote about how I got into a contemporary arts school and from there I learned to love dance and eventually dreamed of becoming a performer.”

“What did I tell you about not being only what the people see you to be?”

“Okay, okay. Umm,” Jimin trails off, eyes wandering as if the things he wanted to say can be easily picked up in the skating rink. But just a second later, he’s suddenly looking straight into your eyes, his own ones glimmering. “Oh, I got one! I was a hell of a headache when I was a kid. I was always so jumpy, running around, loudy as hell–the type of kids you cannot contain in one place?”

You nod, smiling. “A lot of kids were like that.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “the difference is that I cannot still be contained in one place even I’m way past a kid. Anyway, the me back then was a whole different level. I like going to town after town, wandering around, always hoping for some adventure. I once got on top of a delivery van, parked near my neighbor’s house, so near that it was easy for me to jump on it from their balcony. Their balcony wasn’t that tall anyway because their house was some kind of a Spanish-inspired bungalow. We were playing hide and seek at that time. I was so competitive I thought if I got on top of the van and lied down very flat, I will be unnoticed. It turned out to be a good idea because ten minutes later, the kids are now calling out for my name, yelling for me to show up so we can start another game. When the van suddenly rumbled, I quickly realized what I did was a terrible idea. The van picked up its pace and now we’re really moving from the front of my neighbor’s house. You know what I did?”

You shook your head, giggling.

“I cried. Real loud. Snot, sweat, and tears mixing, I look like a dumb, reckless kid who always gets complaints from the neighbors.” Jimin laughed. “So after crying for like good two minutes, that I thought was an hour back then, I started choking on my own spit. With the wailing turned down, I heard my father running behind and screaming for the van to stop. I was lucky that the driver immediately stopped after hearing my father’s cries. But after that, I wasn’t lucky anymore. My mom felt the need to keep me away from vans and my neighbor’s balcony. God, it was so embarrassing.”

“At least your ‘hobby’ got corrected,” you quip.

“You think jumping on vans was my hobby?” Jimin scoffs then smirks. “Don’t underestimate me. I can do much more than jumping on vans. I even did bungee jumping. Remember that episode on Run BTS!, our TV show?”

“Of course I remember. You screamed like a screeching pterodactyl.”

“No, I did not. That was Taehyung.”

“Okay, okay, touché. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

Jimin grins. “You don’t have to try though. You can always effortlessly do that.”

You tilt your head. “Are you telling me my existence is funny?”

Jimin pulls you towards him and you almost tumble forward but his firm grip on your hand keeps you balanced on your skates. However, you could feel every bit of warmth coming from his body as his arms are now wound around yours, keeping you as close to him as possible. Close enough for you to feel his breath fan against yours, close enough for you to trace every constellation marking up his face, and close enough for you to see the reflection of your face in his eyes…again. Jimin breaks into a grin. “I’m trying to tell you that you can easily make me happy without even trying.”

You feel scorching heat immediately spread on your chest and to the rest of your body. You lightly push Jimin away, scoffing. Jimin puts his hands into his pockets. You sputter out,“W-what? As if I can do that. I’m really really intolerable and insufferable, you know?”

Jimin chuckles, “It’s okay. I can handle that.”

Before you can mumble out another disagreement, Jimin grabs your hand again, leading the two of you to the other side of the rink, this time, skating side by side.

“Continuing from what I left on, you know what good came out from my reckless days?”

You don’t answer him but glance his way.

Jimin continues on, “I managed to get lots of friends. I got a bunch of them in preschool, then in elementary. When I got into high school, my group of friends got so large that almost everyone in the school, not just our batch but the lower grade levels as well, practically knew me before I even knew their name. Man, it was crazy. I get to hang out with different people per week and I get to learn their stories. It’s so fun.”

“You must be quite of a people-person even back then.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jimin nods. “People said I thrive off people surrounding me. Said I like being complimented and that I grow more when I’m surrounded by them. Something about collective growth.”

“But, who wouldn’t like compliments?”

“True. Everyone likes them. It’s just…I think they are right, but sometimes…I beg to differ.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like it’s the people who thrive on me, not the other way around.”

You look at him, curious. “How come?”

Jimin breathes out, tugging the collar of his leather jacket closer to his neck with his free hand. “I thought why people liked me back then was because I was fun. You know that type of kid, who gets the crowd’s attention easily and entices everyone to join them in in whatever they do? That type of kid who’s easy-going and can effortlessly make boring things look cool? The people around me told me I was like that and at times, I do feel it’s the reason why I got so many friends. But as I grow up, I feel people liked me because I really love listening to their stories. I love it too much that it was even quite…abnormal.”

“Abnormal?”

“Yeah…abnormal. You see, back on the days, I used to latch on to person after person telling them, no, begging them to tell me their stories–the place they were born in, where they grew up in, their secrets and interests, anything. I learned how to clean vinyl records from an old unmarried man in our neighborhood. I got to travel to Geneva from a rich girl who told me her summer vacation at the playground. I even unknowingly caught up with the local gossip of a married man and his mistress three blocks from our neighborhood. I don’t know why exactly I did it. It just felt nice. It seems our generation’s now short of anyone willing to listen to what they have to say. So when people heard of my abnormal…hobby, they searched for me and spilled everything. They get someone to listen to them, and I get myself new stories. It’s a win-win situation.”

Jimin steps to the side, creating a wider gap between your bodies as you skate but still kept your hands interlocked. “They treated me like a pond they could throw rocks into, entertaining them with my fascination and curiosity and assuring them I will not tell another soul about what they said. Just repeating what they said, nodding when they ask questions, and taking everything they told me inside when they bid their temporary farewells. They always come back for another listening session and everything will repeat. Some people I listened to talked too excitedly as if a day will never be enough to tell their story. A few talked in spurts that it’s hard to determine the beginning and the end of their stories. There were the factual lessons, rambles of nonsense, litanies of achievements, and some tear-jerkers.” Jimin sighs. “But the most amazing one I ever got to listen to was how my mom and dad met.”

You purse your lips. “U-uh, who told you that story?”

“My mom,” Jimin grins. “She told me the story of how they met as soon as I can understand anything. Of course, they told me the red string of fate story, but what interested me the most was their soulbond. Their soulmate system lets them know what each other is feeling even without talking about it. It’s amazing.”

“How did they meet then?”

“Well, my dad had a crush on my mom before he even knew she was his soulmate. My mom is my dad’s childhood friend. She became his friend in his very first day in school after she defended him from a group of kids bullying him for being too short. After that, all he ever did was admire her. He wasn’t too adamant about the soulmate system before then because all he could ever feel from his system was annoyance and irritation. My mom lived next to dad’s house and belonged to the same group of friends he has so it was easy for him to always see her. However, talking to her was a difficult feat because my dad is one hell of an introvert and he always gets frozen feet just at the sight of her. So when my mom finally had enough of my father’s tiptoeing around her, she demanded for him to just tell her whatever issue he has with her so she can stop feeling awkward with his coldness.” Jimin giggles, “Of course my father is bad at confrontations so he just hiccupped and ran away in embarrassment. However, my mother’s words sunk in so he pulled out a recorded track he made about a month ago–a song he made just about my mother, and edited it, ending with a shy ‘I-I know you probably have many suitors by now…but can you please, please, please take a chance on me? Okay, that was too forward, shit, I’m sorry, how do I turn this off?’”

Your jaw hangs open in disbelief. “You memorized it word per word?”

“Of course,” Jimin chortles. “It’s too funny to let go!”

“So after my mom heard about the record my dad left on her doorstep, she immediately asked him to dinner that night. And during their date, that’s when dad felt his soulbond feeling at peace and in love. It didn’t take them to put two-on-two together to tell they were each other’s soulmate. I swear, their soulmate system is wonderful. Dad can easily tell when mom is upset and he easily convinces her to talk it out with him. I always think communication is a strong foundation of every relationship, and to have such a soulmate system to let you feel easily what the other is feeling, it must be heaven! Imagine not having to guess or tiptoe around one another when conflicts arise. Feelings assure you the truth because no one can control what they want to feel, not to mention that soulmate system betters you to become a more empathic person.” Jimin turns and locks his eyes with yours. “Don’t you think it’s amazing to have such phenomenon? To have a significant other crafted by the universe just for you?

You glance away. “…Yeah.”

Jimin diverts his eyes back on the ice. “Unlike the me back then, I wasn’t that much into stories now.”

“Why?”

“These days, it’s hard for me to reach out and listen to people who have anything but hate or illusioned righteousness fueling their systems. The only things people tell me now were how great I was, how much I make from this job, how handsome I got. Sometimes I get to listen to bitter people who feel the need to question my career choices, making me feel bad to uplift themselves. And then majority of the time, I get people who idolize me so much, put me on the pedestal, and make me out as someone that wasn’t really me. I know some of them mean well, but sometimes…you’re just not comfortable anymore.”

You look up at him, “Because you know you’re more than that?”

“Well, yeah,” Jimin glances at you. “You put it really well into words. I’m impressed.”

A question was on the tip of your tongue and you purse your lips, debating whether to ask him or not. But then, this might be your only chance you could ask him this, so you made up your mind and tugged his jacket. “Tell me, sometimes…do you ever wish you didn’t get this humongous fame at all?”

Jimin stares at you and a couple of seconds passed before he decided to answer. “Yes, sometimes. I hate how people follow me everywhere, invade my privacy, and treat me more as a commodity than a human being. I hate how I have to hide my family and childhood friends from the limelight just so they don’t get dragged in any scandals people are so obsessed in making up. I hate having to wake up and unconsciously worry about my looks, my angles, and my weight more than anything else because I know more important matters in the society are more worth thinking and talking about–but I–I don’t know, I just can’t help it. I can’t help how the media changed me. Of course, there’re good and bad changes it brought to my life but I hated the bad ones to the very core. But you know, when I look back and trace my steps to where I was before, I realize that fame made me happy before,” he looks at you, “and how it still does now. With this fame I was able to bring joy to lots of people and give them love they were unable to receive from those around them. With this fame I was able to give my parents a home they used to only dream about. With this fame, I was able to meet my bandmates who loved me like a family…and, I wouldn’t have met you if I didn’t become the Jimin now.”

“H-how so?”

“You wouldn’t have taken a chance on this date, on this soulmate thing for one whole night with me, if I wasn’t who I was today.”

Your forehead furrows, your chest constricting in pain. “N-not true. Why are you telling me that –okay, maybe I gave you that impression of an obsessive fangirl because I blurted everything on my tongue when I first saw you, but honestly I wanted to know you more as a person and not as–”

“No, no,” Jimin waves his hand, chuckling. “I’m sorry I implied it that way. What I mean is: You wouldn’t have trusted me enough to stay with me tonight and try this soulmate thing if I wasn’t able to love myself first before I met you. I didn’t know what love was back then. I just imagine myself being unconditionally admired and taken care of my soulmate. And, I guess I wasn’t my best during that time. I complain a lot, demand too much, and bottle my feelings inside until they suffocate me. When things go wrong, I find it easy to blame someone else. I regarded too highly of myself that I’ve become selfish and insensitive to the people around me. So when I slowly started to outgrow my horrible past-self, I then learned it’s impossible to trust someone about love and relationships if they are still unable to love themselves. Sure, people will argue that they can figure that out together. But still, I think it’s better if we learn how to be comfortable in our own skins before we demand others to love us. It’s not fair for them to tolerate their significant others who can’t love them right. How can we love others when we don’t know even know how love is supposed to be and feel like? That’s why…I’m glad I met you now, because I think I’m ready to love–” Jimin bites his lip, “Okay sorry, I got too sidetracked and went off the loop again , but do you get what I mean?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” you close your eyes, shaking your head, “everything about this soulmate thing still shocks me and I’m still trying to get a hang of it so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You keep your glance down, apologetic, waiting for Jimin’s reply. But all you got is, “Why do you like flowers so much?”

You look up and Jimin looks at you, eyes warm, smile wide. You didn’t have to stare for long to know he’s trying to change the topic. Trying to make you comfortable again. Actually, he never failed to make you comfortable throughout the whole night. He has never pushed you to tell everything about yourself–never demanded for you to tell him about your family like how he openly talked about his, never forced you to reveal your weaknesses and insecurities when he let you in on his vulnerability. And even though you’re starting to think whether to talk about each one of them or not now, he still gives you the choice to come back to your safe zone whenever you want. All of these are enough of a reason to grip his hand tighter in yours and pull him to the center of the rink, facing each other.

“Wait, whoa!”

“Okay, why don’t we dance?”

Jimin’s eyes almost bulge out “Dance?”

“Yeah, dance! You know what, I’ll take the lead.” You pulled him closer to you, looping your arms around his frame in a gentle hug. Jimin’s shocked and tensed for a bit, but it wasn’t long before you can feel him giggling behind your ear and returning the hug.

“I didn’t know you were this…aggressive.”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “Can you just indulge in my free offer and not say another cheesy pick-up line?”

Jimin chuckles. “Okay, will do.”

You didn’t move much. Just, swaying and turning in small motions with your arms wound around each other. You can’t exactly point out why you’re suddenly doing this when an hour ago, you’re too adamant showing him you’re not affected by him at all. All you know is you can no longer disagree that everything with him felt right. Even if you’re still afraid and unsure, everything you did with him made you feel good. Everything you did with him made you feel something akin to happiness.

And this time, you feel the urge to take the risk and dive in. Just for this night, you’re going to do yourself a favor. Only for one night.

“I… like flowers so much because words can sometimes be never be enough. Flowers are the only ones that can materialize them. They’re ephemeral and they wilt, like how words evaporate into thin air once you let them out in the open. But, you know that they once lived to fill a moment because you saw their beauty and their ugliness in such a short period of time. They did exist and you know it. And I guess,” you murmur, snuggling deeper into Jimin’s hug, “it’s only through those flowers I get to be true to myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Out of all the things I said tonight, the truest of them all are only the flowers. I’m not a great…arguer at all. I’m a pathological liar. I lied to myself about my distrust in this soulmate system. My cynicism to it was never solely because I wanted to make my own destiny. It was because I saw my mother and father’s relationship go down the drain even when they’re already made for each other. They knew each other so well that it’s easy for them where to hurt each other each time one of them fucks up. They divorced and I have to live in a broken family, torn between the two of them, afloat and in limbo as to where I should stand when they’ve easily marked my days as to what kind of daughter I should portray whenever I have to visit them. And for me to live without any soulmate system at all, it felt I was further kicked down to the curb by life. Because as much as important love is, sometimes what only matter the most is the assurance that somehow, someone will love me. Because that thought is enough of an emergency kit for my mind whenever I feel too cut off from the world. And having no soulmate system as any kind of assurance….I pitied myself, thinking I can never find out what love truly feels.”

You hiccup. “I lied to myself for years that my mother’s disappointment in me didn’t bother me. I always knew I’m difficult and for her to see me grow as a woman that she did not expect me to be is hard. I was never into law. I’m into gardening. My mom knows that because I was the one who always tended to our plants and made our garden grow as much as it could even if we’re just in a single bedroom condo unit. I just decided to take law because I know I can’t make a living out of gardening yet. It’s sad, I know, but I have to push through so when the time comes I get to save enough, I can open my own garden shop. And,” you trail off, grasping Jimin tighter in your arms, “I lied to myself I hated every bit of this night with you when tonight’s probably the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life.”

Jimin didn’t say anything. He just hugged you tighter when your shoulders quiver, stroked your back when he felt stray tears wet the skin of his neck. He didn’t push you to say more. He lulled you back to comfort in his swaying, singing you a tender melody by your ear to help you feel at ease again. He is just there, unobtrusive, just patiently waiting for you to do anything.

When he felt you loosen a bit in his hold, he lets out his voice. “Would you mind to continue the story of the spider lily? You left me quite hanging there.”

You don’t know why he’s diverting the topic again, but you didn’t mind, having the chance to relieve yourself from years-worth of heaviness you just have mindlessly let out in the empty ice rink. After all, he’s a stranger and telling him everything in your mind wouldn’t hurt because they all leave unobtrusive marks in your life which they easily erase once it’s time for them to go. However, it pains you to type in Jimin as just a stranger in your life.

You clear your throat. “The-the spider lily is the flower of parting. Their flowers only bloom when the leaves die. They were believed to be lovers who aren’t destined to be together at all.”

“That’s…terrible.”

You nod. “…Yeah.”

“I’ll make sure our story does not go like that.”

You draw back to look at his face. “What?”

Jimin smiles. “I’ll make sure our story does not turn out like the spiderlily’s. I know you’re still probably against this soulmate phenomenon. But…I want you to know that you don’t have to feel alone and unloved anymore. I’m already here. And I’m serious about you. Soulmate or not, what we have now isn’t just a one-night thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love you.”

Jimin stares at you and it only takes a second before he suddenly rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I-I know it’s too soon and you don’t have to say it back but I can’t control what I feel and–”

You lean forward and shut him up with a kiss. Jimin freezes in your hold for a second, and then he instantly melts in your arms and returns your kiss. You don’t know why you’re doing these–embracing him tighter, angling your head, deepening the kiss to taste more of him, letting him pull you closer so that you can now compare the matching rhythm of your heartbeats. You don’t know why you’re exactly doing these things with a man you just met, no, your soulmate you just found tonight, when hours ago you’re expressing your disdain on the existence of the soulmate phenomenon. The only thought unwaveringly running in your mind now is you don’t want this to stop.

You don’t want to stop staring at Jimin, even when you struggled getting in the cab he hailed, too busy getting lost in his eyes. You don’t want to stop enjoying the warmth from the small kisses he places against your nape, even if you had difficulty pulling your house keys from your tight jeans pocket as you giggle and moan in his warmth. You don’t want to stop feeling hot and high, even when the coldness of your home starts to seep into your toes as Jimin sheds the clothes on your body, piece by slow aching piece. You don’t want to stop holding his hand, even when you had to strain one arm pulling off his black shirt as he laughs against your neck. But most of all, you don’t want to stop kissing his lips, even when you have to part from him for a second as you lose your breath when his hips bucked into you when he laid you down on your bed.

Jimin hovers above you, kissing you with such passion as if it will be the last time he would be able to hold you. And, you tried to return the same intensity, to balance the heat he radiates on your burning skin, to pave every expanse of his skin you could reach as he ventures every curve and ridge he could touch. With your bodies bared and stripped naked to each other, you can no longer hide the plethora of feelings that has welled on your chest just from such dream-like night you had shared with him. When Jimin parts away to cup your face in his hands, thumbs slowly caressing your cheeks, you see nothing in his eyes but the image of you–breathless, flustered, happy. You almost wanted to cry.

“Can you be my first and last, Y/N?” Jimin asks, voice almost quivering.

You can only manage a whisper through parted lips. “I can, Jimin. A-and I want you to be mine too.”

After that, you were a goner. No words are further exchanged as Jimin starts to leave a trail of kisses from the sunken juncture of your jaw, to the ridge of your collarbones and onto the valleys of your tender breasts. He travels the gentle swells of your stomach, onto the curve of your hips until he’s down to the banks of your hot core, aching and willing and waiting for him. No words are slipped past each other as he dives in and savors every inch of you, nipping, and licking, and kissing your sopping heat until you’re a moaning mess on your sheets. And when he finally brings you to your high, no words are enough for you to express the euphoria thrumming in your nerves, settling on your chest, filling your head. No words are needed when your eyes and his convey them for you as you plead for more, more, and more and Jimin willingly gives all of him to you.

Every touch of his hand on your quivering hips has you groaning and pleading. Every caress on your waist and shoulders has you sighing and moaning. Every brush of his hard chest against the soft buds of your breasts has you moaning and wailing. And every graze of his lips against yours, you can’t help but melt and let your body speak your thoughts for you. You pull him desperately, cupping his face as you roll your hips against his that has him choking out a moan.

“Jimin,” you breathe into him and he smiles.

“W-What?”

“Please.”

You don’t need to say anything in words for your dazed and glimmering eyes are enough to convey them all. Jimin smiles and gives in. He captures your lips into another kiss, murmuring your name between interlocked mouths. You feel him shift in his position above you and when he deepens the kiss again, you finally feel him burying himself deep in you. Jimin gives himself to you in slow and deep strokes that have your back arching off the bed, fingernails digging into his skin. You sputter his name again and again and despite how far gone he is losing in your heat, his gaze on your eyes never wavers, nor loses trace of every bit of him he has exposed to you, making you lose yourself into him even more.

Everything compounds into each other in such miniscule timeframe–from the moment Jimin intertwines his tongue with yours, to the second you clutch his head closer underneath your chin to continue his featherlight kisses on your jaw. When he angles his cock deeper into you, you can only think about nothing but him, him, and only him. As he holds your hand tight in his hold, with his lips on yours as he mutters “I love you, I love you, I love you,” in between every thrust, you finally feel what it’s like to be on top of the world.

Like the explosion you felt when he first touched your hand, it only takes one second for Jimin to let you fall apart in his arms. Euphoria living alive in every inch of your nerves, you clutch desperately on his arms and Jimin draws you closer to him as your walls clamp onto him and coaxes him to also let go in your arms. The fullness and torrid heat of him spreads inside you and Jimin kisses you once more with everything he’s got–sloppy but passionate, messy but powerful–a beautiful mosaic of the feelings you had in the most wonderful night of your entire life.

You’re dazed and shaken, wondering if it is possible for everything to be a dream. But when Jimin collapses next to you and pulls the blanket over your bodies, all thoughts cease in a staggering halt as he whispers, “I’m happy I get to know you.”

You smile in his embrace, “Me too.” Sensations always hit first before thought and without thinking twice, you find yourself breathing out, “Promise me you’ll be by my side ‘til tomorrow morning.”

Jimin kisses your left hand, the one with the daffodil ring, and as he says “I promise,” you fall into a peaceful slumber. His words are enough of an assurance for you.

***

When tomorrow comes, you wake up on a cold bed. Jimin is nowhere to be found. You didn’t need to feel more of his side of the bed to know his clothes and shoes and every trace of him in your home is now gone. But still, he promised.

You slip into your shirt discarded on the floor and drag your worn body to the living room. Your couch and your coffee table stood untouched. When you turn to your right, you find your kitchen and dining table empty. No smell of cooked food lingered in the air. You dashed to your shower even when you hear no sound of water splashing on the tiles. The door swings open and your shower stands empty, polished tiles dry, no trace of use on the faucet. With pounding steps, you run back to the living room, straight down to your door. Fingers skimming down on your bolts, your hand trembles when you find the knob and grasp it. When you twist it, your door clicks open as it unlocks.

You refuse to acknowledge the obvious possibility looming on your head since you woke up. But now, it only takes one more second of you standing by your unlocked door before your thoughts crash down, choking out a broken sob from you. Jimin left the minute after what happened last night. He didn’t go outside to just buy something before coming back to your home. He didn’t even stay long enough to wash up and clean himself. He just got up, locked your door close, and went out, leaving you behind.

You hunch over your doorstep, grunting, pain hammering on your chest as your body falls to the ground. Uneasiness, frustration, and desperation muddles into a heavy iron ball that sinks on your chest, sinking deeper and deeper until its heaviness constricts your lungs of any air.

Jimin left and he didn’t even bother to leave a note. He doesn’t have your keys, nor your number. He isn’t planning to come back.

You stiffle a broken scream on your clenched hands.

***

Three taps on your desk grow louder by the second, each one nipping on your nerves.

“Hey, Miss, my roses?”

“O-oh, right,” you stir, eyes fluttering wide, taking in the bouquet of roses you were wrapping. The flower shop is brightly illuminated by the overhead lights and the morning daylight, yet everything looks so hazy, the frantic movements of your hands sticking out so aberrant from your perspective.

“Here’s your bouquet, sir. Thank you for coming to Petal Hill.” The man waves off and your smile falls the second the glass door swings close in his exit.

Everything went back to normal. You went to university in the morning, started your shift in the flower shop in the afternoon. You didn’t miss a day and you eat and sleep the same way. Routines are done the same way they are until they blur day after day, just how you live your days with sleep marking the end and beginning of every tomorrow. But, they are still not enough to fill the gaping hole in your chest. Whatever you do, they’re not enough to let you forget of that night. Even if you tried to convince yourself that you felt okay after Lucy made up with you, your false defense just crumbles whenever you so much glance at the inked flowers on your arms, the ones Jimin ignited to bloom that night. More so when now the flowers have dulled in their yellowness after he left.

Even if you know it’s futile, you still did everything you can. You changed your sheets and cleaned your home. You refused to look into any online article pertaining to him. You busied yourself until you break down tired. You screamed and have already cried for so many nights. And you did something you abhorred: wait–wait for someone to come back without any assurance they have actually plans of coming back.

You wait for Jimin to show up at your door, explain and apologize and fulfill his end of the promise. Because even if you abhorred the sight of your mother endlessly waiting for your father to come back and how you did the same for the both of them, Jimin is different. He is your soulmate and that night you met him, he convinced you it won’t hurt to give this soulmate phenomenon a chance. So each day after that dream-like night, you waited and waited until all seconds, hours, and days add into an excruciating week.

For one week, Jimin didn’t show up and when a gray Sunday afternoon comes, eight days past the night, you’re starting to wonder if you should still keep your unrealistic hope alive.

The glass door swings, ten footsteps echo in the silent shop, five pansies are laid down on your table–and then you stop. Your thoughts halt in a frozen limbo, your body stills in staggering shock.

It’s the same bleached blonde hair, the same black leather jacket, the same silver earrings, the same drooped eyelids and warm, brown eyes – it’s Jimin, Park Jimin, who stands in front of you, waiting for you to wrap the pansies on your desk. It’s him, the soulmate you’ve been waiting to come back to you for so many days and nights and all you can do is–

Your eyes immediately dart down to your desk as your fingers scramble to wrap the flowers. “If you just came here to make sure I won’t tell anybody what happened, don’t worry, I already plan not to. Your reputation will remain clean and you’ll still have millions of fans. You can leave after I wrap this.”

“W-what? No, I’m not gonna do that, Y/N. Never...I came here to talk.”

“Oh, so now you wanna talk. After a week of silence, you now decided you want to talk.”

“Y/N–”

“So now that you wanna talk, what are we gonna talk about? How everything that happened was a mistake?” you spit out. You’ve already thought about this but hearing them loud from your own lips starts to make your eyes sting with tears. You immediately look down again at the flowers you’re wrapping. You can’t cry in front of him again, let him see you this weak again. You can’t have him to kick you down to the curb again.

“No, Y/N. I’m sorry. Please–please look at me.” Jimin says, a sob escaping his lips. Receiving no response, he places his palms on your desk and pulls down his mask as he leans forward to meet your downcasted eyes. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeats, voice cracking. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry I wasn’t by your side that morning. But believe me, I didn’t want to break my promise, I just have to do something–”

“What do you have to do?” you cut him as you raise your hand to wipe away the tear that has made its way down your cheeks. “What do you have to do that is so fucking important for you to just leave me as if nothing happened between us? Why do you have to disappear for a week without any word? Why do you have to just show up now? Why, Jimin, why?”

You face Jimin, letting your eyes meet his for the first time and really look at him. His lips are chapped, his complexion pale, the bags under his eyes dark. He looks just as bad as you but you don’t want to dwell on it, afraid your resolve will crumble down when you should be keeping a strong front.

“Y/N, I–I'm sorry,” Jimin says again as a tear escapes down his cheek. “What I did is unforgivable and I know you have every right to hate me right now. But I-I have actually planned to stay and make you breakfast and tell you–”

“I don’t need to hear what you could have done because it did not happen,” you look at him and Jimin freezes. “You didn’t stay like you promised, Jimin.”

“Y/N, please–”

“Just tell me why you left me. Why do you have to appear now?”

“I,” Jimin starts and he sighs. “Namjoon called me around four, demanded where the hell I am. Apparently...the media has already published pictures of us getting in a cab together that night. Namjoon asked me to come back to the dorm right that instant before the media can do a massive stakeout in front of your building and barrage us with their cameras. So I didn’t come back the morning after to not raise any more suspicion. I waited a week to pass for the paparazzi to calm down and drive away their cars before I can go back to you.” He raises his hand to wipe a stray tear on his cheek but it’s not enough to prevent the small wet drop from landing on the pansies. “I-I can’t let the media invade your privacy and create horrendous articles about you. They can do that to me, but not to you. Never to you. You don’t deserve that.”

You’ve imagined this confrontation scene again and again in your head for the last couple of days. You’ve planned what you’re going to say and how you would end this goddamn connection with Jimin once and for all. And yet...you couldn’t remember the words you’ve planned for so long to say right now. They just died immediately at the tip of your tongue as if they were never there in the first place. And you hate it. For once, you thought you could finally have some control over the effect of this man has on you. You feel ashamed. You feel as if you’ve betrayed yourself.

Biting your lip, you bring your eyes back to the pansies. “I guess that’s better than having you figure out I’m just a simple nobody you can fuck over for one night of fun and throw away when you’re done and satisfied. Because that’s what I thought when you left me.”

“No, Y/N, I’ll never do that to you–” Jimin scrambles to reach for your hands but you take a step back away from him. You could see pain brim in his eyes and hurt pangs in your chest. You thought if you could deliver the same pain he brought to you, you would feel better. But no, you only felt worse. Worse for thinking hurting back the person you love is the right thing to do. Just like what your mom and dad did to each other. Tears sting your eyes at the thought. You swore never to become like them and you’re doing the very mistake they did. You hate this. You hate feeling so weak. You hate how you’re even thinking about Jimin and what he must be feeling when your own chest feels so heavy with the pain he caused.

You tear your eyes away from him and dart them to your clenched hands. “I already heard your apology, Jimin. You don’t have to repeat it again to convince me. I’ll just finish these pansies so you can go.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand. Can you please–please just look at me?”

“What for, Jimin? I already heard you out, what more do you want?” You wipe away the tears that have streamed down your face, “Do you want me to hear now how sorry you are because you didn’t mean everything you said? Because if you do–”

“I meant every single thing I said,” Jimin breathes out. “I love you, Y/N. So much that I want to do everything I can just for you to be happy. I waited for so long to finally meet you and I’m so, so, so sorry I broke my promise and fucked everything up. But I swear, Y/N, I want nothing but you and I meant everything I said especially when I told you I love you.”

You raise your head to finally look at him and you almost wanted to regret your decision. Jimin stands in front of you, sobbing, eyes wrecked. He looks so vulnerable, cut wide open for you to see. You know he must be saying the truth but you still can’t ignore the doubt clouding in your head. You’ve already believed him once. You don’t want to repeat your mistake again. “I would be lying if I told you I don’t want to believe what you said,” you choke out a sob, “But Jimin, I can’t just take you back and pretend what happened did not hurt me.”

Jimin freezes. “N-no, Y/N, please–”

“Jimin, I want you to prove you mean everything you said. I’m sorry, but I...I just can’t forgive someone so easily with mere words. I’ve seen hundreds of relationships go down because of that.” Your voice cracks, “Hell, I’ve seen my own mother and father destroy each other with repetitive apologies and forgiveness. I need to respect myself, Jimin, I–” you let out a shaky breath and hand over the wrapped pansies, “I’m sorry I can’t accept your apology now.”

Jimin looks down and nods, “I understand, Y/N.” He doesn’t take the flowers and turns away, walking to the door. Each step he takes is synonymous to another crack making its way down your heart but you know you have to do this for yourself–for you to have enough reasons not to regret the decision you already made up in your mind about his and your future. You have to do this for yourself so you can finally deal with your fears and doubts about the soulmate phenomenon. So if Jimin can’t do what you request for, then you’ll let him go. You can’t let him and yourself experience the inevitable tragedy brought forth by the intense intimacy and transparency the soulmate phenomenon brings. You can’t take it if the both of you will face the same horrible ending your parents had.

Jimin stops by the door and you look up to see his retreating frame.

“Keep the pansies. They’re for you. I-It was nice seeing you again, Y/N.”

After that, he’s gone.

***

You didn’t expect anything from him after your meeting in the flower shop. However, you know better than to anticipate nothing from Jimin but an effective counter-argument. You know your judgment is right when you found the proof first on your doorstep in the morning after of your talk, September 15. Five pansies stood in a small vase placed on the right of your door, next to your umbrella stand. Underneath it was a pink note, which said, “I’m sorry.”

That evening, you stayed up late into the night. Your clock ticks ten thirty and then you hear it: a click of a button, a faint clink of glass, and Jimin’s soft voice.

“Hi Y/N. I…I’m sorry for what I did. And I hope you know I won’t give up making it up to you for you to know I’m really serious about you. I–I’ve brought you pansies. I remember every single thing we talked about that night and after that night, the only thought that always comes to my mind ever since is you.”

The morning after, you see the same vase and a fresh set of flowers, the wilted blooms probably cleaned up and taken out. However, instead of the note, a record lies next to the vase. When you slid it into your beat-up player, a relic you kept from your mother’s home, it plays his short message last night.

The routine falls into place the following days.

“Hi Y/N. Our schedule today wasn’t full so I had the time to go to a library and read about flo-flo-floriography? My tongue always gets twisted when I say that so please don’t judge me. I’ll pronounce it better soon. So back to the book–I read that sweet peas mean ‘Thank you for the lovely time’ and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you that right after our date. After all, it was the happiest night of my life. Anyway, I got you some sweet peas now with the pansies. I hope you like them.”

“Hi Y/N. I’m sorry I’m late. We got dance practice until ten and I rushed here right after our choreographer called it a night. I wish I can show our dance to you now, but yeah…I guess you wouldn’t want to. You’ll probably throw the flowers I have now to my face. Okay, I’m kidding. I know you wouldn’t do that. I just want to make you laugh. I miss hearing you laugh.”

“Hi Y/N. I stopped by Petal Hill this afternoon but I didn’t see you there. Someone filling in for you told me you skipped your shift to study for your tests. I wish I could help you like how guys in cheesy romance movies do but I guess I won’t be able to do that because I’m not that smart. I’ll leave early today so you can study. Eventhough I know you’ll slay it, I’ll still wish you good luck. I hope these gardenias with the pansies will give you additional good fortune.”

“Hi Y/N. We did songwriting today and I wrote my first solo song. Guess who’s my ispiration. Surprise, Surprise, it’s you! Namjoon told us to just write out anything we’ve been thinking a lot lately and all I could think about is you. I can’t show it to you yet because it’s still messy but I promise, as soon as I made it perfect as it should be, you’ll be the first one to hear it!”

“Hi Y/N. I read a book about flowers again! This time, I got curious about azaleas, the small, pretty pink blooms on the front shelf of Petal Hill? The flower book I read says they look like azaleas. Anyway, I learned that they require quite an effort to grow because they prefer a little sun and a little shade. I guess that’s why they mean ‘fragile’ in the older books of floriography. However, I read that even if they’re fragile, they can last for several weeks. Thus, they also mean ‘take care’ in modern floriography books. Isn’t that amazing? I brought azaleas today so they can last long and remind you to always take care of yourself.”

Every morning you collect the records he leaves and every night you can’t help but forgive him bit by bit. His flowers and records make your mornings worthwhile; his soft voice and songs, a lullaby that you start to anticipate in the night. Jimin does his routine religiously night after night and it wasn’t long before you find your heart softening to him again, opening up for him so easily even when you didn’t want to. There’s no use to deny the fluttering of your heart anymore because as nights go by, you already find yourself gathering up your courage to open the door and finally let him back in.

For twelve nights, Jimin’s routine doesn’t fail. In the latter six nights, you’re by the door, practicing what to say. You plan to just throw open the door once you finally sorted out everything you want to say. However, that plan immediately goes down the drain because of one Monday night, the 14th night of Jimin’s supposed routine.

“Hi Y/N. I know it’s late but….I have to say something important. I…I won’t be able to stop by for the next few days. We’re having our comeback tomorrow and soon after, promotions will require us to go overseas. I just came because I hope you’ll open the door by now and at least show me your face. Doesn’t matter if you throw the door close to my face the second after you show your face. I just want to see you real bad. It would be long before I can see you again and I…I miss you. I miss you so much, Y/N. So can you please open the door? Because…I know you’ve already forgiven me.”

Your body freezes and before you know it, your feet are pounding hard on your floor towards your door. The millisecond you tear open your door, you barely whisper, “Ho-How did you know that?!”

Jimin stands in front of you, eyes wide. His hair is still bleached blonde like the last time you saw him, his gentle eyes still the same. He looked better than the last time you saw him, healthier. But unlike your expectations, there’s no vase and record this time. It’s just him and his flowers–a bouquet of pansies and sunflowers in his hands. Tears well up in your eyes and your lips tremble. But before you can say anything, he answers your question. “I–I can hear your thoughts.”

“W-what?” Your jaw falls open. Oh my God.

Jimin opens his mouth. “Oh my God.”

Your forehead furrows. What the fuck, is he copying me?

Jimin shrugs. “What the fuck, is he copying me?”

What the hell –“H-how did you know what I’m thinking? Wha-what–”

“It’s my soulmate system,” Jimin looks into your eyes and your body goes rigid in shock. Jimin bites his lip. “I lied about soulbond being my soulmate system because…I don’t want to scare you that night that I practically already knew everything about you before I even met you. That I purposely went to Marti’s Hub just to get a glimpse of you when I knew you’re going to that bar to cry over your Law 114 essay and I just happened to be near that area. And that how I came to your rescue was not perfectly a coincidence, but intentional because I heard your…mental cries of help.”

“The-then what about the-the daffodil ring?” You point to his left hand and Jimin breathes shakily.

“This ring wasn’t because of your soulmate system…or mine,” he admits. “Remember that time when you’re fifteen and you thought about how romantic it will be to have a daffodil bloom inked around your ring finger instead of a wedding ring? I thought about that a lot until I can’t think about anything else. All I knew is that I have to own a permanent mark of you on my body because it felt wrong not to be tied to you in some way when you already own every part of me. I have a daffodil inked on my ring finger because,” he trails off and looks into your eyes. “What’s the meaning of the yellow daffodils?”

You’re the only one.

“You’re the only one,” Jimin breathes out. You felt your tears trailing down your cheeks and Jimin’s thumb wipes them away. He keeps his hand on your cheek and you look up into his eyes, into his eyes that reflect nothing but you. One second is all it takes for your defense to crumble down and fall. Fall into Jimin’s arms, fall into him again, letting him hold everything that you are–your strengths, burdens, weaknesses–everything.

“B-but what about y-your parents?” you choke, “The-the soulbond–”

“They’re true,” Jimin says, firm. “Excluding my soulbond soulmate system, everything I told you that night is true. My parents, my stories, my wishes, my intentions, my ‘I love you’–they’re true. All of them.”

You tremble in his arms and Jimin holds you tighter. It is right then you decide to finally deal with your fears. “H-how can you be so sure, Jimin? How can we make this work? I-I’ve only known about you in one night.”

“That’s not quite true,” Jimin chuckles. “You’ve known about me since 2013. I know I caught your eye the instant I showed up in the screen with the cringey snapback, trying hard to swag with cheap gold chains on my neck.”

“But what about me? You only knew me i-in one night…”

“Not true too.” Jimin cups your face in his hands. “I told you, I can hear your thoughts. I’ve been hearing them since you were born–all that you did, all the things you liked, all the people you disliked–I’ve already known you since I started hearing you. Hearing the minutest details of your thoughts for over so many years is enough for me to know about you.” He breathes out, smiling. “Enough for me to know my soulmate already loved me before she even meet me. And I want her to know I already felt the same before I even saw her.”

Before you can say anything else, Jimin leans over and presses his soft lips against yours. It’s gentle, intimate–a delicate touch that conveys nothing but love. You make a noise of surprise but you already know you’ll be melting in his touch within mere seconds. You know because your cheeks feel warm and your chest flutters in joy. You know because everything about the night suddenly feels right. You know because even if you haven’t said it aloud, Jimin knows what he said is true.

When you part, you’re greeted with his soft smile and gentle eyes that you love so much. And right then, you know that even if it scares you, you’ll have to say everything in your heart aloud. What’s let out in the open air cannot be undone anymore and you have no plans of taking back the words you will utter.

“I love you, Jimin.”

Jimin smiles and beams back, warm and bright. “And I won’t get tired telling you I love you, too, Y/N.”

Standing there on your doorstep, as the world slowly turns around you, you think it’s finally time that you accept the tale of the red string of fate is more than just a fairytale for everyone else but you. Because right in front of you, is your own happy ending. And, you’re sure, even in another universe, you will relive that night you met Jimin again and again if it will grant you what you have now in your arms: love.

You don’t need to glance at your glowing daffodil ring to prove that you’re right.

Epilogue

As you touch your red-stained lips with one final dab, your voicemail beeps. Your free hand presses your telephone to hear the call you missed since you’ve been out of your house the whole day.

“Hi Y/N. It’s mom. I…I wanted to tell you this in person but it would be a while before my bus reaches your place. I just…I just want to say that your father met up with me two weeks ago and…yesterday, we decided to give us another chance. I’m sorry I’m only telling you this when I always felt I should have said this way back before: the soulmate phenomenon works and I’m so sorry we caused you to distrust it and lose hope in love. I know we’re not the best parents out there, but Y/N, I want you to know that you are loved and someone out there made by the heavens and destined by fate will love you more and make you happier than we ever could. This soulmate thing–it works as long as you give it a chance and work hard too to make it work. We will be there at your place tomorrow with your father…We missed a lot about you these recent two weeks…especially your father, and I hope we can catch up. Always take care, Y/N. Mom and dad loves you.”

“You ready, Y/N?”

You turn to your boyfriend, smiling. “Yeah, Jimin, I’m done.” You grab your purse and take Jimin’s open hand, giggling when he presses a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.

Smirking, you said, “You really know now how to kiss me without smearing my lipstick.”

Jimin looks at you, grinning, “Of course, I won’t ruin your perfect makeup. You made yourself pretty for our date tonight.” He leans to the crook of your ear and whispers, “Unless…you want me to do now what I have in mind for us later in the night.”

You cringe at him but Jimin probably already knows his words have affected you because you already feel your cheeks starting to heat up. “Ah, you’re so cute. I love teasing you,” Jimin chuckles as he interlocks your hand with his. When you step out of your home, you glance back to your telephone and then to your daffodil ring, glowing faintly. Smiling, you close your door.

A/N pt. 2 | Hi hons! Thank you for reading this 2nd long-ass oneshot I made after Translucent Fireworks! The inspiration from this fic came from one of the requests in my Songs to Read Playlist:

3 minutes of listening to I was Made for Loving You and one eureka moment are all it took for me to plot this story in detail from start to finish.Thus, I decided then to make this a full oneshot, and now, I am drained and tired after finishing this. This has sucked the lifeblood out of me as this kept me busy for one whole f*cking month and next week is all I have left of my summer break before uni starts hell again. But hey, at least I made up my lack of activity to you hons with lots of wordcount! Thank you for appreciating my works and I hope you all stick with me longer as I have a lot of upcoming works in store for you!

#kwritersworldnet #btsguild #bangtan bookclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fluff #jimin fluff #park jimin #jimin x you #bts x you #IT'S FINALLY HERE #YESSS #NOW I AM OFFICIALLY DECEASED #I'll rest for a while and then will write again!

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iheartsunset · 4 years ago

Note

Nick is also a fun character, I would enjoy some HCs for him

Papa Louie Nick HCs

(I’m so sorry I forgot about this ask I didn’t mean to i just have way too many tests going on that I keep failing, and I’ll try to do these on time from now on)

-Nick Banks (haha get it like river bank hahaha i hate my sense of humor) is an 18 year old boy who’s fresh out of high school and currently wondering what to do with his life. He works from home as a multimedia translator (like fit foreign language shows and books and comics and stuff) and a language tutor for CommYouNicate, though he is currently unsatisfied with both of these jobs. He’s also a rafting champion and plans to make it his full time job, although his multiple health problems often hinder his outside performances. He lives with his overprotective parents in a riverside Tacodale cottage.

-Nick has asthma and a congenital heart disease that made him easier to exhaust the other kids. His family grew extremely overprotective and doting of him while his peers ostracized him or mocked him for this. Other kids used to exploit this and often physically bullied him, making Nick so jumpy that he became clumsy. Nick doesn’t let any of this get him down, as he’s completely determined to prove everyone wrong and succeed despite his health problems, which he has done with his many rafting awards.

-He once made a wattpad account and was immediately recommended “Bought By the Romano Family Quartet (Carlo Romano x reader)”. He immediately deleted the app and never went back. Yeah I got this from one of @ccwastaken ‘s asks and I can’t stop thinking about it even though it was so long ago

-Nick is very shy and bashful, yet he jokes around a lot and often laments on how much other people suck. Like imagine you’re in the among us dead player chat and you’re all talking about everyone still alive is so stupid for not realizing who the imposter is. That’s him. Although he always says it really quietly or in another language so that nobody beats his ass. Even though he’s shy, he still has a lot of confidence in himself and uses this for rafting. Around Koilee, he becomes a blushing mumbling mess though, and someone else always steps in to order for him during these times.

-This dude speaks so many languages and dialects, it’s insane. English, Spanish, French, Swahili, Japanese, Tagalog, Mandarin, you name it he probably speaks it. Since he spends lots of his time indoors, he watches shows from other countries and reads foreign books that allow him to learn other languages. Other than rafting, it’s his favorite hobby, but now that does it for a job, it’s a lot less fun.

-He net Mitch when they were kids at a summer camp, where the latter defended him from bullies. Now they’re both best friends and are almost always seen together. Nick likes to raft with Mitch to the Tacomia (but he hates enduring Maggie scolding them for using a dang boat to get to work). Nick also helps teach Tohru Japanese, Prudence German, and Nevada Chinese, along with many other Flipline residents. He’s good friends with all of his clients, but he’s closest to Mitch and Wally.

-He has 7 pet goldfishes named Number One, Number Two, Number Three, Number Four, Number Five, Number Six, and Number Seven. He talks to them all the time and keeps many pictures of them in his phone.

-He will cry in movies or documentaries where animals die. Like he despises Old Yeller with all of his being and refuses to even look at Marley and Me.

-He has a huge and obvious crush on Koilee. This stemmed from him deciding to accompany Mitch and Wally to Sakura Bay one day for fishing near the Pacific coast. He had somehow tripped off the boat and into the ocean without his life vest, and was drowning despite still being pretty close to the shore, so Koilee swam to save him. This, combined with his suspicion of her being a mermaid are the main reasons for his crush, although she always mistakes him for a child and is oblivious to his feelings. Carlo Romano hates hanging out near Tacodale and Mitch and Wally because Nick is always there and will awkwardly try to confess his love to Koilee all the time, despite he and Koilee obviously being a thing and Koilee definitely not being into him.

-He likes visiting interactive science museums since he enjoys conducting experiments and playing with the displays and activities. He hates art museums, though, because he hates analyzing anything and he just wants to look at the pretty art work without Brody hanging around him for some reason while being the art snob he is.

-He got into rafting after meeting Deano on his childhood trip to Portallini. Deano encourages him to take up boating as an outlet and mentored him. Deano also taught him Italian, which helped spark an interest in languages.

-He owns many different colored safety vests and life boat vests. He even has some decorated for fancy events and parties. His buddy Trishna thinks it could be a very good fashion trend, but Nick doesn’t think so, as he just wants them for safety.

-His favorite supernatural creatures are sirens and mermaids, stemming from The Little Mermaid.

-Sorry I don’t have too many quality hcs about my dear sweet boy, but I still love him with 1/4 of my heart cause the rest is reserved for Taylor and Wally

#flipline studios #papa louie #flipline #my hcs #nick #yeah the goldfish are an umbrella academy reference #cause I stan Vanya hargreeves #I love nick so much but I think he orders sour candy in his cookies #and that’s a no no for me #what if someone actually wrote a Romano family fanfic

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moos-cow · 4 years ago

Text

Gemini

Chapter 1b

No sooner, a hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back. “Run!”

A tall figure in a green silk top hat had crept behind her. He pulled her through the nearby door, and down flights of stairs. They ran, only to emerge to what seemed like an empty town hall of some kind.

“Wait-” She stopped to ask, but alas, his sharp tongue cut her off.

“Shut up and run, idiot. Questions later.” He grunted as he pushed the heavy doors open, leading her out to the moonlit streets. A familiar face waited by a carriage nearby.

“Quickly, Hatter. We need to get her out of here.” The white-haired man motioned her to get inside the carriage. As soon as she got in, he followed. The Hatter jumped up to the driver’s box upfront, taking them away in a rumble.

Long after, the rapid clopping of the horses fell to a steady easy tempo.

“Sir, I believe this is yours.” She finally broke the silence and extended out a hand, revealing the golden pocket watch. “You must’ve dropped it when you ran into me.”

“It is!” His eyes widened at the antique, carefully taking it with two hands. “I owe you my deepest gratitude, miss. This watch means the world to me.”

“My, I completely forgot to introduce myself! Blanc Lapin, my friends call me the White Rabbit.” he smiled and held out a hand- one of which she took to shake.

“Amaya. Amaya Chan.”

After briefly introducing herself, Amaya partially drew some of the curtains of the coach, curiously inspecting the outdoors. Street lights illuminated the empty cobblestone-layered streets with a soft pale blue glow.

“If I may, Blanc. But, where exactly are we? And what is going on?”

“Are you familiar with the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?”

“The children’s novel? Very much. Yes. What about it?”

“Well, you see, you’re in Wonderland, Amaya. The Land of Magic. Cradle, to be exact.”

She stared at him in disbelief, looking for any hint of humour. You must be kidding me. Instead, he just reached up to fix his glasses.

She tried to recall the events and details from earlier. The pocket watch. The hole. Hatter. White Rabbit. Magic. Alice. Although they might've made sense on their own, there are still too many loopholes to be able to conclude that what Blanc’s statement was indeed true.

"No, no, no. This must be some kind of themed park in London, right? Because look-- it doesn't make sense. If it were just like in the book-" Blanc pressed a finger on her lips, instantly shutting the lady up.

"Amaya, truth, and history both have curious ways of being distorted in the telling. Of course, here, there aren't any talking animals, ghastly beasts, or armies of cards." he chuckled at the mere idea.

“Still, it's impossible.”

Blanc drew the curtains on the other side of the coach, giving her a full view of a fountain with a giant sapphire crystal floating above it, glistening in the moonlight.

“As impossible as it may seem, this world exists parallel to yours. But unlike yours, our way of life isn’t governed by the laws of nature and science-- rather, by the laws of magic, usually powered by Magic Crystals.”

Much to her dismay, the idea of Jonah’s cuffs popped in her mind. She rubbed her wrists as she recalled the numbing feeling brought by being bound. And that light, that warm light that came out of her hand, it felt all too real to be called fake.

“So the cuffs from earlier, the ones from that guy, Jonah. I assume they were powered by some magic?”

“Indeed. They were lined with crystals, meant to be unbreakable, that is until you came along.”

She shook her head, “I’m not following.”

“Nobody in this land can nullify magic that has been cast. Only people from your world, the Land of Reason, can.” He began to chuckle lightly. “Some time ago, a young girl with the same power as you lost her way here.”

“Alice.”

“Indeed. Little Alice was quite the mischief-maker, running around the streets of Cradle, breaking magic spells left and right.” He smiled from ear to ear, reminiscing the past in amusement.

“Cradle-” She asks inquisitively. “You mentioned that we’re in Cradle.”

“Yes.” Blanc pulled out a map from his bag, opening it before her.

“Cradle is a military state ruled by two armies, the Red and the Black. The West is ruled by the Red, while the East is ruled by the Black. We’re currently here, the Central Quarter, an area sandwiched between the Red and Black territory. This area also functions as the country’s political and economic hub.”

“The place where you were caught is called the Garden. That is where Cradle’s most powerful figures gather for debates and trials.” he continued as he pointed to the center of the map. “Only the Chosen Thirteen of both armies, and myself-- the official record keeper-- are allowed to enter.”

“Well, that explains a lot.” She threw her head back, realizing that she had just trespassed into one of the most highly secured areas of this land.

“Edgar Bright-- he addressed himself as the Jack of Hearts. What does that mean?”

“Ah yes, the Chosen Thirteen are ranked from King, Queen, all the way down to the Ace. Edgar, being the Jack of Hearts, is third in command in the Red Army.”

“I see. Much like a deck of cards.”

“Right again. Although the Ace is technically the lowest in rank, they’re often in charge of unusual assignments, placing them in a league of their own.”

The carriage fell quiet as she sat back to process the information at hand. She took a glance at the white rabbit, only to see his uneasiness unfolding before her.

“Blanc. Is everything alright?”

He let out an exasperated sigh and began to explain, “As you may have noticed, Amaya, I was running late for tonight’s council meeting since I had some business to attend to in your world. It was during my brief absence that the two armies decided to declare war.”

Once again, the tension rose and the coach fell silent.

Wow. So, to my worst of luck, I fell right in the meeting of two armies that have just declared war.

“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that, Blanc... But, how do I get home then?” She carefully says through her stoic expression.

“There’s a hole in the Garden that connects the two worlds. All you have to do is to bring something from the Land of Reason with you and jump into that hole.” His voice softened, almost pitiful, as he looked at the moon.

“But?” She interjected, cutting him from his gaze.

“It only opens for just a few hours at the night of the full moon...”

"I see-" She closed her eyes, and with a deep sigh, she resigned herself to the idea of being stuck in another world for a month.

A few moments later, the carriage came to an abrupt stop and loud poundings on the carriage door rambled them.

“Open the door, Blanc. We’re looking for the girl.”

“Looks like the Red Army is here to give us an official greeting.” Blanc frowned

“Get out of the carriage, Blanc. I’m not in the mood to pull you guys out myself.”

Blanc took her hand in his and led her out of the carriage with him.

True enough, two men clad in different red and white uniforms stood before them, and another two marched their way behind her, immediately locking her hands against her back.

"Let me go!" She squirmed. In an attempt to break free, she managed to kick one straight in the knee. He grunted in pain, but their grip never faltered. Alas, it only got tighter.

“Sorry, Blanc. Beauty and the Beast sent us to get her.” the red-haired soldier before them spoke.

“Kyle, Zero, isn’t it unbecoming for two gentlemen such as yourselves to intimidate and frighten a young woman like this?” Blanc, being the gentleman that he is, beamed at them a smile.

“Then allow me to apologize if we’ve frightened you, Alice.” The black-haired soldier spoke. He waved his hand to the other soldiers to signal her release.

“I am the Ace of Hearts, Zero. Our Queen, Jonah, wishes to meet you.”

"Seven of Hearts, Kyle.”

“Look,” Zero looked at her straight in the eyes, “We’re here on official orders. Jonah absolutely needs to speak with you. He’s promised not to be as rough as he was back at the Garden.”

She turned to Blanc in hesitation.

“If you don’t have any reservations, it might be best if you go along with them, Amaya.” he rested a hand on his chest, “As Official Record Keeper of Cradle, I mustn't get in the middle of political affairs. Though, personally, I trust Kyle and Zero. But still, the decision is yours.”

“Promise to let me go after speaking with your Queen,” She demanded from the two officers.

“I promise.” Zero nodded.

It wasn't like she was in a spot with the luxury to refuse anyway. In a land she knew little to nothing of, agreeing to them would be the most logical and practical thing to do.

"Fine. I'll go." She nodded "Wait. Let me get my stuff."

She turned around and retrieved her bag from the carriage. But as she approached, she noticed the two soldiers sizing her up from behind. She can take them down if she had wanted to, but logic overtook the situation at hand.

She turned around and glared at them as they towered before her, "Touch me again and you'll get more than an injured knee, boy."

Their eyes widened at the little lady’s threat as they parted, and she-- she made her way to mount Zero's horse.

“Hold on tight now, Amaya.”

With that note, they rode fast through town, crossed a large bridge, and galloped through villages and villas that looked like Red territory. Soon, they arrived at an enormous white, red, and gold manor.

“We’re here.” Zero pulled on the reins to halt, dismounting himself and Amaya from the gentle animal “Welcome to the Red Army Headquarters, Amaya.”

“Wait here while I go get Jonah.” Zero left with not a single word more.

“Yeah. You go do that. I’m going to grab a nightcap.” Kyle yawned and stretched from behind.

“Hey you, keep an eye on her.” He ordered the soldier nearby before helping the limping soldier to the infirmary.

Minutes stretched to what seemed like hours. She reached for her phone in her bag, 3:23 am. No signal. The soldier still stood behind her in attention.

“This saucy Queen surely doesn’t give a damn about the time,” Amaya mumbled to herself as she kept the phone again. Tired, cold, and hungry, irritation was slowly creeping up on her.

“Was that a complaint against Queen Jonah?!” the gate guard shouted, furious.

“Oh please, I mustn’t have been the first one.” She rolled her eyes and replied sarcastically, “besides, that wasn’t even close to a decent complaint. Do you want to hear a better one?”

“Shut up you impudent fool! How dare you insult our Queen of Hearts!” The guard loomed over her from behind, cracking his knuckles in the process.

Finally, some fun.

Just as he raised a hand to hit her, 2 voices called out from the gates.

“Hey, you! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size!”

“Get away from her!”

Two soldiers clad in black and navy blue came running, knocking the gate guard out and away from her. Unfortunately, a then roaming guard caught the action, turned around, and frantically sprinted back to the barracks.

“The Black Army has come to attack! Sound the alarm! Form Ranks!” moments later, bells started to ring from all around, and red army soldiers slowly began emerging from around the barracks.

“So much for sneaking in, Seth.” the purple-haired soldier gave out a resigned sigh, tugging on the scarf around his neck.

“Well, at least we saved sweet Alice here from that smelly old guard now. Didn’t we, Luka?”

“Guys, I think it's time to run.” She tugged on their sleeves, watching the red army soldiers approach them with complete spunk.

With the two officers by her sides, they raced towards the gates. As she scanned the area ahead for incoming guards, an odd glimmer caught her eyes. Atop the gated entrance was a man loading a rifle, grinning from ear to ear.

What in the world?

BANG BANG. BANG BANG.

The red soldiers dispersed as a shower of bullets came raining down on them, and a thick cloud of white smoke provided cover.

“Fenrir!” Seth and Luka called out.

“Did you think I’d let you two have all the fun?” Fenrir jumped off from the top of the gates as soon as they passed. “Get out of here!”

Amaya and the two soldiers continued to run farther from the gates. The air behind them was filled with the thunderous sounds of fighting, gunfire, and Fenrir’s insane laughter. Soon, the voices of the red army soldiers faded as they turned to a corner.

“Fenrir, that’s enough!” Luka shouted from where they stood to catch their breaths.

Fenrir caught up, holstered his pistols, and appeared completely unfazed. She looked behind him to inspect the chaos, every last Red soldier was down on the ground.

“Did you kill them?” she managed to ask through heavy breaths. Endurance really wasn't her best suit.

“Literally? Nah. I would never.” Fenrir chuckled, patting his holstered pistols. “The bullets were made from Magic Crystals. So one hit from these, and off to dreamland they go.”

“Right, right. Crystals.” She shook her head, quickly reminding herself of the magical situation she was currently caught up in.

Not long after, the faint pounding of boots can be heard from behind. Another wave of Red soldiers was coming straight towards them.

“You just had to go and showboat your way through the Red Army, didn’t you?” Seth blatantly scolded Fenrir.

“Oh, c'mon! Ya ought to be thanking me for saving your butts back there.” Fenrir snapped back.

God. They’re just like kids.

“Shut up and run-- now,” Luka demanded.

He led them running through back alleys and side streets within the Red Territory. The trio’s bickering continued even until they scrambled into the carriage.

The adrenaline rush from this evening’s events immediately faded as she slumped down into the seat. She was feeling lightheaded and was unusually exhausted beyond belief. This was more draining than any other assignment before.

She quietly studied them. Albeit clad in differently designed uniforms, they all had a similar navy blue and silver band on each of them, embroidered with a certain crest. “Excuse me, are you Black Army officers?”

“Oh my, aren’t you sharp!” Seth clapped his hands in exclamation.

“I’m Seth Hyde, 10 of Spades!”

“Luka Clemence. Jack.”

“Fenrir Godspeed, Ace of Spades. It's nice to meet you, Alice.”

“Amaya-- it’s Amaya, not Alice. Sorry.” She said, not wanting to be called another name. “Uh, thank you for that.”

“Don't you worry about that, sweetie. It's all in a day’s work.” Seth gently placed his hand on hers as they took off into the night. Over time, the sky started to burn a bright crimson in the far east.

#ikemen revolution fanfiction #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikemen series #ikemen original character #gemini

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kvngjoong · 5 years ago

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she was a rainbow [three - seo changbin]

→ seo changbin x f!you, university!au, in which changbin discovers that his feelings aren’t as easy to understand as he first may have thought → 7.4k+, it’s fluff. all fluff and cute things, with a last minute confession

part 3 of 3

“Do you remember when I got mad at you about the project?”

“Mhm.” Changbin was busy eating his noodles and didn’t pick up on the signs you were showing him. He tries to make a joke, since when he looks up you look a little sad. It was just the downturned lips and sparkly eyes. Glassy. Changbin means glassy. “You told me that you wouldn’t talk to me again.”

You hum, facing the table for a little longer than usual. “I was a bitch ‘cause my boyfriend and I broke up.”

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Changbin replies honestly. He should have expected it. You both hadn’t know each other that long then, and you already had broken up with your boyfriend? It surprises him. It angers him that someone hadn’t appreciated you enough to love you.

“Hwang Hyunjin?” His name burns some hatred into Changbin. That asshole? Yeah, everyone know who Hyunjin was. He didn’t realise you two dated, and he would have warned against it if he did know, even though you both weren’t that close. “Yeah, I should have realised that was going to end up that way.”

Changbin has a pick of everyone he wants.

Realistically, it’s always been the same for the Korean boy. He’s rich, he’s handsome and like hell does he know it. Ever since high school when girls would flock around him to see whether he really was that flawless in real life (he was, for the record) and if his hair really did stand to be the most beautiful style on the grounds. His spoiled ways proved to be too much for people to handle and they quickly disregarded him leaving the best option for him being to move abroad and act like he never even knew the streets of the various other countries he lived in.

He used people and he didn’t care, and that never really changed. Sure, he had two good friends. The first was a boy named Chan who usually would be found in the music production rooms with his headphones on, creating new songs like the genius kid he is. Chan is from Australia and didn’t have any other friends. Seeing him as, for lack of a better description, weak, Changbin managed to make friends with Chan but then realised he truly did value the friendship he had. Then there was Jisung, the first year student who had helped Changbin out in the music department when he first started. Changbin, in his own way, admired Jisung for carrying on his passion for music despite studying International Business. Another rich kid that Changbin emphasised with too much.

But Changbin realised in university he can’t be the person he used to be. There’s no cliques like in high school, the majority of people are just genuinely interested in studying and he often looks stupid when he expects the girls to come flocking in the clubs. His pearly white smile and equally white trainers don’t attract the attention he wants.

Not that he doesn’t get any. Changbin might not have the same charm as before but girls do love him. They love his persona and how if you hang around with him you automatically get the reputation of dating a rich kid who had a lot of money to spend which his parents sent him every week. Girls used him, actually. They used him for the reputation like he used to use them for the same thing.

It drives someone to loneliness, actually.

Changbin sits alone in lectures now. He used to sit in the middle with girls either side, sometimes not paying attention but often having a girl or two chatting about a possible date and another on the phone sending him photos he shouldn’t have been looking at in the middle of a lecture.

He walks into his class on international markets, his least favourite unit this year, expecting the back row of the lecture theatre to be completely empty like always. He pulls out one earphone, analysing the girl sat in the middle of the back row with an emotionless face; reading a book, studying each word, lost in the fantasy world which is created from it.

Changbin frowns. He takes a seat two places down and uses the seat to his left to keep his bag on so he can easily pull out his phone later to concentrate on something other than his lecturer who is the quietest, but most lovely Chinese lady to exist. The act manages to catch your attention as you don’t expect it. Your eyes meet Changbin’s and he feels like he’s frozen for a second.

“Sorry,” you mumble quickly, closing your book shut. Changbin is stuck looking at you so forgets to check what you’re reading. He hopes it’s worthwhile. “Do you want me to move up?”

Changbin shakes his head. He brings his fingers back through his freshly washed hair as he clears his throat and looks away. “It’s fine. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

When Changbin didn’t spend his Saturday nights watching anime and checking snapchat to see if there was a party he could jump in on, he would have took this as an opportunity to continue speaking to you. Right now he looks back towards the front of the lecture hall and scratches his ear as he sighs. He doesn’t care, if he’s honest.

“This is the lecture on international markets, right?” you ask him. Changbin doesn’t look back to you, as he really does not care all too much for what you’re saying, and instead continues looking forward and planning on what game he’ll be beating Jisung at this evening. “I’m new and I guess… everything has been kinda messed up for me so far. I never end up in the right place.”

Changbin hums, nodding quietly again. “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay,” you answer, smile on your lips. You seem to ignore his blatant lack of interest which surprises Changbin a little. He pulls the disinterested card on girls and usually they beg for his attention and make it known that they’re not happy which how he’s treating them.

You, on the other hand, don’t even bat an eyelid.

That’s the thing which surprises him the most, especially since his cold and unattentive personality would usually have a girl angry at him for not trying too much with them, or have them rolling their eyes and vowing never to speak with him again.

He spends far too much of the lecture watching you concentrate on the topic being taught from the corner of his eye, your face burnt into his memory whether he wants it or not. Primarily he would have hoped at some point you’d have noticed his gaze shifting your way every so often, but when you don’t acknowledge him until you’re asking him politely to move out of your way so you can get to your next class, Changbin decides that he’s not going to let you bother his thoughts again.

Except he does let it bother him, a little too much if he’s honest.

It’s easy to shake you from his mind each time he stares at a blank wall or zones out from Jisung speaking with him about something he doesn’t care all that much for. It’s not so easy when you force your actual presence into his space a few days later at his seminar for International Trade later that week.

You sit beside him at the back, which again was usually a row he sat in on his own, but don’t pay too much attention to him since you were busy texting someone and didn’t notice him in the corner.

At least he thought that, since you didn’t even look in his direction until the teacher had everyone talking for a reason Changbin didn’t know - since he was busy on Instagram (trying to find your profile, for science of course).

“Hey,” you say, turning to him and catching his attention. He panics a little, eyes wide as he locks his phone and places it face down just in case you saw him searching through group followers to find anyone who resembled you. “I saw you in the lecture on international markets.”

Changbin finds your way of speaking with him a little unusual. You remind him ever so slightly of Jisung. Forward, but friendly, and somewhat good intentions. “Yeah, that was me.”

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Great,” Changbin replies. He may have come across as more rude than he intended to be, though he wanted to make it less obvious he had been waiting for your name this entire time. Pretty, he thinks, and it suits you. He panics, again, and tries to recover himself in possibly the worst way possible, “do you need something?”

“We need to work in pairs for the project on trade policies. I was wondering if you wanted to work together?” you ask.

Damn, he had hoped for more than that.

“Oh. Right.” Changbin’s quota for smiling had already been filled up since Chan slipped in the kitchen this morning when he dropped his milk everywhere. He might have been able to give a little more happiness if you asked him for more than just uni work. Well, saying that, you wanted to spend some time with him so you must have liked him in some shape or form. “Sure. We can work together.”

Changbin responds to your smile with his own tiny one which he spares for you from the bottom of his heart. He regrets it when he realises you probably just sat with him because you remembered him and didn’t know anyone else, but he notices there are quite a few empty seats around the room that you could have sat in should you want to make some other friends.

So he takes it as a win, even if you did probably enjoy the familiar aspect of having Changbin around you. Oh well. His ego will take it the other way until he’s ready to accept he’s lonelier than ever and anyone is better company than Jisung at this point. No offence to Jisung, he was just going through a… phase.

“I’m Changbin, by the way.”

Giving you his name goes a long way to creating a relationship between the two of you, since you exchange numbers pretty soon after and Changbin walks home with a less blank than usual look on his face. When he gets home he lingers in the living room for longer than usual and even Chan asks him what’s made him so happy.

He could have been happier if it didn’t take you two days to actually ask text him. Sure, he could have texted first, but didn’t want to overstep a boundary you might have wanted to keep. He could message you but you knew what the project was about and he would have probably cleared his schedule for you anyway, so he waits patiently for you to come to him.

Maybe to restore that mindset that people wanted him, or maybe because he was nervous. The latter was pretty much impossible.

Providing that Changbin’s (pretty much) squeak when he sees you’ve finally text him after all this time.

You: Are you free tonight? Changbin: Yeah You: Okay, do you want to go to the library? We can meet there and work on the research? Changbin: It would be easier if you came to me. I’ll send you my address.

Changbin’s parents were always apprehensive about him giving out his address, hence why he went elsewhere for parties and avoided having people back here. He asked Chan and Jisung to live with him with a pretty cheap rent for the company of having them around, and so far they were the only ones he had ever actively asked to be at his.

This was a different story, however. He trusted you enough to give you an address that his parents specifically wanted on the downlow (they didn’t want anyone to take advantage of Changbin’s wealth, and you didn’t seem like the type to do that). The first one ever. Changbin was really firsts with you already.

It brings butterflies to his stomach, almost as many as when two minutes later he realises his room is a mess and he does his best to tidy everything in the twenty minutes he probably has before you arrive, if you lived where he suspected you did.

He was just about right - nineteen minutes after he started cleaning and making sure his washing was (less than neatly) placed in his washing bin, you’re knocking at his front door and he’s running out of his room begging that no one else heard the door and opens it for him.

Lest be it that Jisung or Chan caught wind of him inviting you here; Changbin would never hear the end of it.

Changbin, slightly out of breath from mad-pace cleaning and running at full speed to get the door, forgets the smile he promised himself he’d give you, instead staring blankly at you and letting you walk in. To his surprise, you ignore a greeting too and walk inside, looking around the room at the barely covered walls (apart from the mirror Jisung took pictures in, and a shelf for Chan’s books). “Your place is… Nice.”

“Yeah, nice,” Changbin replies, clearing his throat as he shuts the door. He’s usually so talkative, what is about you that stops him from being able to form coherent sentences? Changbin isn’t sure. He stumbles over some more words as he follows you in staring down everything he jointly owned. “It’s uh… let’s do some work in my room. My friends will only cause problems if we’re in here.”

You nod, walking after him as he leads you to his room on the back at the right. He shuts the door behind the two of you, weary that Jisung would be able to hear your voice and come to inspect all that was going on.

Changbin watches as you sit on his floor, beside his desk, leaving the chair open for him. Not wanting to be a dick, he sits opposite to you and copies your stance in the hopes you won’t feel awkward being in a new environment. Changbin will learn that one of the things he loves about you is that you never seemed to be bothered by things like that.

He’s busy watching you log into your laptop, so your voice catches him by surprise. “I was actually looking into some studies yesterday so we can use that as a starting point. Unless you want to start over, and we take a different approach?”

“You already did some work, so you clearly know what you’re doing.” Changbin likes that you’re smart, too. He reveals in the fact you’re not just there for him because of his money, or because he can music,or even because you thought he was cute. You’re there for work and he respects that. “Just let me know what you need doing and I’ll help.”

He respects it to the degree that he can, anyway, since he didn’t particularly like doing the work and also felt bad when you sat there and did absolutely everything on the project whilst he just admired your pretty eyelashes and soft lips and… That’s for another day.

He sees you a few nights of the week, and somehow he manages to avoid both Chan and Jisung the entire time. It’s for your sake more than his, the pair of them were both on the get Changbin a girlfriend bandwagon and it annoyed the shit out of him.

Which is why he panics when he knows that Chan and Jisung are going to be at home and you’re most likely going to see them.

“Can I come over today?”

“That’s forward. Why?” Changbin asks, surprised by your presence directly next to him in the lecture hall. You usually left at least one seat between the two of you, but given your panicked voice, you were trying to cozy up to him for a reason he already knew the answer to.

Maybe he’s acting like this because part of him really just wants you to ask to come over so you can both spend time together without the underpinning task of your joint project. Yeah, Changbin hopes that you see more to him than just work.

Judging from your deadpan look, that is not the case. “For the project. It’s due soon and we’ve barely done anything.”

“Because it’s not that deep.” Changbin replies, shrugging as he returns to his notepad and writes the date in the top left corner. “If we fail, we fail. They’ll pass us anyway because if they fail us they look bad on rankings. Why bother?”

You don’t react to his words. Changbin should try a different approach to get some emotion from you, and the right emotion at that. “So we can get a good grade.”

“That’s not important to me. I don’t even wanna be in that class,” Changbin tells you.

“But I do, and I want to do well. So please, Changbin, just put a bit of effort in for me? I won’t bother you after this project, I won’t even talk to you, just help me get a good grade and it’s done. We won’t work together again.”

Ouch.

That hurt Changbin more than it was meant to, or at least more than he should have allowed it to. He sits in silence the rest of the lecture, checking on you every so often out of the corner of his eye, though not bothering to distract you from your work any more than he already had.

Part of him thinks that he should have stopped you before you left the lecture hall to apologise, but unfortunately for him his mind doesn’t work that quickly and he’s not sure how to make it up to you straight away.

He’s not even sure why he’s so bothered. You don’t mean that much time him, you’re just his partner for a university project and you probably won’t speak to him again afterwards.

Except he hoped you did speak to him afterwards, and he hoped you saw a friendship like he did, because it’s not often that Changbin has someone on his mind so much.

He didn’t want to sound like a stalker or anything. He wasn’t going to follow you around, he wasn’t going to make sure you were the only person he was talking to (since he was pretty sure you had your own group of friends which included one of Chan’s other friends, Felix), but he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to at different times, or if you were thinking about him too.

God, it was like you were a drug he caught wind of and now he’s hooked to.

Which is why, the next day, he shows up at the library where he knows you’ll be (since you were always there on that day at that time, according to your snapchat), with the intention to apologise to you in a way that only Changbin can do.

It takes a while to find you, but when he does, he’s glad you’re on your own because he had a feeling that Felix boy had a thing for you given that he posts about you all the time and looks at you with massive heart eyes that Changbin wasn’t particularly in the mood for.

“Hey,” he says, sitting on the opposite side of the booth to you.

“Changbin?” You ask, raising a brow at him. You were clearly surprised to see him, too. Given his slight smile in your direction, you warm to the possibility of a conversation to him and pull out your earphones, abandoning the work you had in front of you. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Changbin finds himself at a loss for what to actually say to you. On one hand, he could say sorry, but that doesn’t really mean anything unless he’s actually showing you that he’s sorry. He should invite you over, he should ask you to do something with him, he should offer to finish the project for you, he should--

“Do you need something?” you ask, cutting off his thoughts before they got too much for him.

“Oh, yeah. I do, actually.” Changbin clears his throat, leaning forward on his elbows, hands clasped together. He can make it genuine, because for you he is genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry about before. I was an asshole to you for no reason. You want to do well and so should I. So, you can spend the weekend at mine and we can finish the whole project then, and do it well. I cleared my schedule.”

His apology works like a charm, actually.

Probably because he was genuine towards you, and you could see that. He stays with you for a little bit but leaves eventually, heart a little warmer and blood free from any emotion he didn’t want (ie animosity). His walk home is filled with ideas for what you can both do together, since he didn’t intend to have this project take up the entire weekend, and he settles for getting you to play video games with him and actually asking you for your social media so it’s acceptable for you to follow him on everything.

Having you around fills him with this emotion he couldn’t quite process (ie, not animosity, but something more like adulation) and it does strike him exactly like the strongest drug he could have ever purchased. One right at the bottom of the black market, with a selling price of well over what he could have ever afford.

The difference with an actual drug? The effects were permanent. So maybe you were like therapy for a blackened and closed heart.

“I’m so tired,” you say, laying on his floor with your eyes shut.

He hides his silent chuckle at your form and his pout because he can’t stroke your hair like his gut told him to. Is that what you do in a relationship? Likely so. He wasn’t entirely sure, but that’s what they do on Jisung’s dramas. “I literally just got us pizza.”

“I know, but I’m still tired,” you reply, opening your eyes and looking straight to him, “we can just get up early and work on this tomorrow.”

Changbin shakes his head at your suggestion, gesturing over to your laptop that now has a black screen since you haven’t touched it in roughly… forty minutes. “No, I don’t get up early. We’re finishing this tonight. We just need three more paragraphs and we are done.”

You don’t concur. Changbin looks down to his keyboard, attempting to finish his sentence, though he feels your eyes on him and is compelled to look back to you and see what you need. Just like a relationship.

“What?” Changbin asks, studying your pout like he’s never seen one before. Well, he has, but mostly because he was rejecting a girl who didn’t care all too much for him. “Why are you doing that?”

When he brings up your pouting, you stop and return to an emotionless stare. After a few moments of unbroken eye contact, you sit up and push the chair from your face adjusting your sleeves. “Let’s just take a break then okay?”

“A break?” Changbin repeats, one brow slightly raised. He couldn’t dream of saying no to you again, since last time he hurt your feelings and he wasn’t ready to do that again. He likes talking to you. You’re interesting, and you make him feel like he is too. Whatever feelings you have towards him, it’s most definitely mutual. “Okay, we’ll take a break. For five minutes.”

“Tell me more about you, Changbin.”

“What do you want to know?” Changbin replies, noticing how quick you jump on the opportunity to ask him something person. Did you can about him? It would seem to be that way. No one really wants to know about him. He didn’t even want to talk about him, either.

But for you, he’ll say everything.

“Anything. Everything. Tell me your life story. That will get my mind working again so we finish this and have tomorrow to do whatever we want,” you return.

Changbin assumes you’ve forgotten the whole not talking after the project is over, and he’s happier than he’d want to admit about it.

That’s almost a turning point in your relationship. Almost because it changes again, all thanks to him, but that marked the two of you actually being friends, and Changbin likes that more than he would care to admit, too.

And friendship for him is more than he could have ever thought to ask for.

He thought that he say Chan and Jisung a lot, but compared to you it was nothing. The nights he would spend on his own were suddenly filled with your presence and he actually enjoyed being around other people for once, in the nicest way. There was something about his mostly extroverted but potentially introverted persona that meant he enjoyed the loneliness in the slightest way.

Except now, he didn’t at all.

He’d invite you over whenever he could, make sure that he had you around him when you were able to. Though your days were reserved for your other friends, which did include Felix and his friends, you spend your evenings with Changbin doing both work and friend things.

He enjoyed both, much to his surprise, but it was probably because he enjoyed the way you told him about business things much more than his teachers. Did he ever mention he loved how smart you were? Because he does, so much.

He also loves that you’re so effortlessly his best friend, in every way that you can be.

“No, Changbin,” you say, pushing his hands away from you. He acts surprised by your defiance, not giving up on having you play like you had agreed. You, however, continue your protests with a “stop it. Don’t make me say it again.”

“You started it! I’m sorry you’re a major pussy and can’t play horror games. We said we would take turns!”

“It’s not funny!” You look away from him with a pout, the very one he’s grown so fond of over the time he’s know you, and face the door. Hearing Chan and Jisung chanting at the TV over some football game that was on, probably wasn’t the best thing for the situation. “Your friends probably think I’m stupid. I screamed loud.”

“Wanna bet?” Changbin asks, challenging your words in the best way he knows how.

Because you haven’t actually met the double team of Christopher ��Chan’ Bang and Han Jisung, and Changbin knows that people aren’t usually that easy to adapt to their friend’s other friends.

If you’re easy to warm up to them, then Changbin knows you’re going to be easy for him to get on well with in the future. Who knows, maybe he can extend his relationship with you and you can be more than friends? That’s on him though, since he’s sure you don’t actually have any feelings towards him and he’s going to respect that until he’s one hundred per cent sure that confessing you is the most appropriate thing to do.

So Changbin drags you out to his friends, despite your very basic protests, planting you straight in front of the TV and making sure to deal with Chan and Jisung’s eye rolls and complaints that they were interrupting whatever team was playing.

“Chan, Jisung. Do you think she’s stupid?” Changbin asks, his dominance in their friendship clear from how he approaches them. He looks between them, then to you, switching between the two until he gets the answer he’s looking for.

“Stupid?” Chan repeats, looking over to you. He shakes his head, careless to what Changbin’s actually intentions were here. “No, you were playing Outlast, weren’t you?”

Jisung, on the other hand, has the full intentions to make sure that Changbin regrets ever trying to impress you with his friends. The youngest has a smirk as he directs his comments at both of you, but mostly you. “Hyung, you were screaming louder than her, you’re the pussy.”

Honestly, Changbin didn’t know someone’s laugh could brighten his entire day.

But that’s normal right?

To want to make you laugh every day, to listen to it on reply, to have to you laughing at something he said (so that you’re laughing because of him)?

He’s not sure, maybe he’s got a delusional idea of what is right and what is wrong in his head. Either way, Changbin vows that your friendship will be good and you’ll enjoy every minute of it that you’re in it with him.

And that means that you’ll be doing everything with him, whether you like it or not.

Changbin hopes you do like it, though. He can’t keep wondering whether you will, so he decides one day when you’re both walking to class together that he should check. “Let’s do more stuff together.”

“More stuff?” you repeat, looking up to him questioningly. He nods, though you’re still not buying. “You literally leave the house for lectures and that’s it.”

“But you like doing stuff, so I’ll do it with you,” Changbin says, hoping to convince you with a little bit of affection.

That works well, too.

Changbin went from not being able to talk to you, struggling to know what to reply to you, and being as awkward as he ever could be around a person, to silently begging for you to want to spend more time with him.

And do you? Well, Changbin would wait for you to answer that. At first he thinks not, since you don’t approach him with anything, but when you spot him at the cafeteria in one of the business buildings, and you run after him with a wide smile, he changes his mind a little.

Skip the formalities, a greeting from you is a form of therapy within itself.

“There’s this thing.”

Changbin hums, looking to you as you both approach the elevator to go to your class on the third floor. “Right. This thing.”

“Can you come with me?” you ask, surprising him a little. He doesn’t frown, his eyes just widen a little. You must have noticed because you’re quick to try and convince him. “It won’t take up too much of your evening. I don’t want to go on my own.”

Oh, you must want him to come if you're convincing him.

“I don’t even know what it is you want me to come to,” Changbin returns, shrugging.

“It’s just a… poetry, thing.” Changbin thinks it’s cute, though keeps his look placid to make sure you’re not quick to read him. He worries, given that you’re basically an empath, you’ll catch onto the fact that his feelings are becoming a bit too prominent for him to control. “Boring, I know. I’ll make it up to you, but you might enjoy it. Who knows.”

He didn’t need to enjoy it to go along; Changbin was going to seize an opportunity to spend some time with you on your invitation again.

Since your presence was the drug he couldn’t kick from his system as of yet, or a therapy session he paid above and beyond for, and a poetry session with you was a strange way of getting a high, or help, he needed.

To imagine you each time they spoke of a starry sky, a roaring fire, even a firework that explodes in the sky, he would have paid a lot for that anyway.

And he got it for free.

Spending time with you was something Changbin would have given a lot up for. As it turns out, you liked it too, since you let him walk you home and even invited him in (politely asking him not to judge your place since you weren’t rich and student loans didn’t provide that much to an international student anyway). No, nothing happened, as much as anyone may have thought it did.

Changbin didn’t have the intentions to do something with you, and maybe you felt the same. He didn’t notice you didn’t have any pictures of you with any guys at home, or their clothes in your room, so maybe he did have a chance.

That was a weight off his shoulders, at the very least. You probably didn’t have a boyfriend, and he was moving more in that direction now.

“Hey,” Changbin says, distracting you for the lecturer at the front. You look over to him, since you both sit directly next to each other now, and nod for him to continue. “Are you free, later?”

You nod again. “All day, why?”

“Do you want to do something together?”

“Sure,” you return, bringing some relief to Changbin’s heart that was beating at about 200 miles an hour. He lets his cheeks twitch a little, but never does actually smile at you. You keep your voice down but still keep your interest at hand, “what do you have in mind?”

Changbin shrugs, passing his phone across the desk to you, since he had a film already opened that he thought would be cute to see with you. A horror movie, at that, but it was up his alley and yours too. “This movie came out recently and if you wanted to, we can see it together?”

It’s a terrifying three seconds waiting for you to answer. “I’d like that.”

So seeing a movie becomes your weekly thing together, alongside the things you already do. You really do end up spending every night with him, the bonus being that you also get along well with Jisung and Chan too, and the four of you somehow form a friendship that Changbin would never have been able to foresee in the past.

You were once someone he sat a few seats from in a lecture, and now you’re standing in his kitchen playing hot potato with a sponge that Jisung had used to mop up (quite a bit of) soy sauce from the side that he spilt. Given that Chan and Jisung had been throwing at each other, and then Jisung involved you, it was a given Changbin was going to get involved to.

“Hey Changbin,” you shout, the boy looking up to you with wide eyes as he leaves the bathroom, still drying his hands on his jeans, “think fast.”

Changbin’s heart is heavy because you remembered to include him, of course he very much enjoys your thoughts going straight to him, so he doesn’t get much time to react to a soy sauce soaked sponge launched directly at his chest. “Hey!”

“I said think fast!”

Chasing you into his bedroom is one way to get a girl in there, even if it’s because you know he works out and if threw that back at you, you would probably lose a rib because of the sheer force. Not that he would actually do that - he throws it back to Chan who looks at the two of you like you are a resident married couple.

No that you have to know that. “Get back here!”

Yeah, his bedroom. You have a lot of memories there. From getting to know him in there, and finally understanding what goes on in his deep, dark mind, all the way to watching horror movies together and eventually sleeping in his bed together.

On your demand that is. You think Changbin has it in him to ask if you want to stay over? The poor boy could barely get out 4 words about his feelings, yet alone ask you something like sleep in my bed or even just stay over, and he would stay on the couch.

“Your bed is so comfortable.” Your words, like always, catch him off guard. He was working on a song with both Jisung and Chan, and he had the lucky job of producing the final product. “Let me sleep here.”

Changbin avoids having another internal meltdown and deals with this by not actually dealing with it at all. He nods, noticing that you’re pretty comfortable already. “Okay.”

“Okay,” you repeat, slightly questioning his response. Did you expect him to say yes? Probably not. Changbin gave you the impression he liked his personal space. Luckily he knew he would be pretty boring tonight and would be up to the early hours of the morning, so letting you sleep meant he could get on with the song without the recurring thought of you. “I bet girls ask you to do this all the time.”

“Sure,” Changbin answers. You weren’t wrong, they used to, but he hadn’t even spoken to another girl since… you came into his life.

He has all of about ten minutes of actual music time before he realises you’re already asleep, tucked away in the corner of his bed under the black blanket he usually didn’t use because it got to hot.

You’re cute when you sleep. Changbin can’t help the warm feeling that spreads over him as he admires you from the other side of the room, smiling to himself as he tries his very best to get on with the song he wanted to.

He does have to stop a few times to look back at you, check you were okay and we’re too cold (or too hot, for that matter), but he finishes what he wanted to around 4am and practically collapses in the bed beside you without even considering whether he should have slept on the floor instead.

His eyes were too heavy and mind clouded by music to even consider that you were nothing but his friend and the few inches of space between the two of you was easily filled if one of you moved.

If both of you moved, well… it would mean you ended up with your head on his shoulder, his arm around you and resting on your waist.

“Sorry,” you say softly, lifting your body when you realise what position you’re in. Changbin was an active participant in that too, but you probably didn’t realise. It will forever remain a mystery which one of you initiated the (kind of) cuddling. “I didn’t mean to…”

Changbin shakes his head, pulling you back down to where you were before when he sees the numbers 07 on his clock at the end of his bed. He’s too tired to notice you place your arm over his chest, and he’s practically sleeping again when he mumbles to you that he’s okay with it. “It’s fine. I didn’t say anything.”

That’s practically where your relationship starts to change. Not that you both confessed your feelings to one another when you woke up later, but there was a definite shift in the dynamic between the two of you.

Things continue as normal, with a hint of a romantic feeling between the two of you, though neither of you address it. Changbin’s content with where you both are, even if he realises that he does get jealous of you and Felix, you and whoever isn’t him, because he most definitely has feelings towards you which reflect that of a boyfriend.

A boyfriend you already had, mind you.

“Do you remember when I got mad at you about the project?”

You hum, facing the table for a little longer than usual. “I was a bitch ‘cause my boyfriend and I broke up.”

Of course Changbin reports this information back to Jisung (and Chan, since he was there) since the youngest had been the first to realise that Changbin was, you know, in love with you.

Even before Changbin. That little asshole figured it all from the silence of his own bedroom. Is it weird that he was listening through the walls to figure out just how his hyung felt towards the pretty girl who kept coming over. Then he shared it with Chan, who also had his suspicions, but kept it quiet.

“He said he didn’t love her,” Jisung retells a tale he heard from one of his other friends who knew Hyunjin from some society, Woojin. “What a dick.”

“You should tell her how you feel,” Chan interjects, seeing an opportunity for things to be made better.

Changbin, however, does not see things the same way. It’s probably his fear for the situation, a genuine worry that anyone who loves another has when it comes to confessing. “What if it makes things worse?”

“No, it won’t,” Jisung states, taking a bite from his apple.

“You sound sure.”

Jisung nods at Changbin’s words, finishing his bite before talking. The youngest, like most of the youngest in friendship groups, sees himself as a bit of a prodigy in relationships. Didn’t Changbin write the love songs? He did. Jisung nods again before confirming. “‘Cause I’m right.”

Changbin hopes Jisung’s right, too.

He’s a nervous wreck the entire day he plans to tell you how he feels.

Probably the fear of rejection, no matter how much Jisung told him that he wouldn’t be rejected. He asked to meet you at 1pm and he shows up twenty minutes early, expecting to be alone, but sees you sitting at the able you both claimed as your own in the cafe near to uni.

He panics briefly, walking away with his head hung low, though stops himself and walks back to you when he remembers that he’s doing this for more than just his own state of mind.

It’s so that you know not everyone is like Hwang Hyunjin, and you can have someone love you.

“Can we talk?” Changbin says, stopping beside the table with wide eyes.

“About what?” You look up to him and frown at his expression. Though you gesture of the seat opposite to you, Changbin takes a few moments to actually sit down. He’s surprised you already bought him coffee, and it’s exactly how he likes it too. “You’re the second person today who looks like they’re going to pass out on me. Seriously, are you okay, Changbin?”

“I’m fine,” Changbin answers.

The coffee is hot and burns his tongue a little. He tries his best not to react, staring at you with the most affection he can actually process. It’s for the best to tell you, and it won’t change things drastically. If you wanted to reject him, you wouldn’t have returned some of his signals. Whatever they were. Jisung was convinced they were there.

Fuck it. Changbin places his hands flat on the table when he realises that he needs to just say it rather than keep it as a thought in his mind.“I needed to admit to you that… I’ve seen you differently, recently.”

“Differently?”

You were clearly both on different wavelengths.

“I think I love you.”

“Love me?”

“Well, I didn’t think it was love but then I was thinking more about it and I realised that every time I’m with you, it’s like the sun has a single beam that is shining right down on me and I literally just want to stare at you and listen to you laugh and watch you smile because you are the very definition of what makes me happy and it’s hard for me to explain because I know how much you doubt yourself and you will never see yourself the way that I see you, but… I do love you, and there’s nothing in this world that I could want more than showing you that.”

Changbin could put that in a love song.

He’s breath is a little shaky as you look back at him without an answer. He doesn’t particularly need one, lest it be for you to admit that you do actually feel the same way towards him. He stops thinking about it, like he should have a long time ago, and asks you what he’s wanted to since you slept in his arms and you laughed at his jokes and you showed an interest in him that no one else ever had.

“So please, for the sake of my own sanity, will you be my girlfriend and let me show you the love that no one else has?”

He’s sure that no matter what answer you give to him, he’ll always love you anyway.

For you were the one that showed him what it’s like to have a different perspective on life, too.

You didn’t see yourself the way he saw you, but it was the same vice versa. The very definition for happiness in your own personal dictionary always had his name written down in it. Seo Changbin, the one who could love you back.

The song that never leaves your memory.

The key to a lock that was never opened before.

Saying no wasn’t an option.

You were a rainbow, and Changbin had been waiting for you the entire storm.

#changbin reactions #changbin smut #changbin scenarios #changbin imagine #stray kids smut #stray kids reaction #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids

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soobiniebaby · 4 years ago

Text

Angels & Devils Part II: Someone Say What’s Going On

Tomorrow x Together Fanfiction

~ p a r t s : main post || prologue || part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7 || part 8 || part 9 || part 10 || part 11 || part 12 || part 13 || part 14 || part 15 || part 16 || part 17 ~ p a i r i n g : love triangle involving choi soobin and choi yeonjun ~ g e n r e : high school au | some social media au | some fluff & angst | childhood friends | love triangle ~ l a n g u a g e : English ~ w a r n i n g : contains swearing, alcohol, kissing (?) and may contain mature themes (angst, etc.) ~ a / n : This will be my first fanfic (go easy on me pls) and i’m just writing this as I go along, so bear with me juseyo The setting (place/country) of the story is up to the reader’s interpretation ~ s u m m a r y : What should she choose? Han Baby: the new girl with a troubled past MO Academy: her new high school Choi Soobin: student council president, member of the Ecosave club, volunteer at the Humane Treatment of Animals, member of the Honor Society, a vocalist in the Jazzed club, the school’s all around golden boy Choi Yeonjun: leader of the Dance club, star of the Jazzed club, the school’s it boy with a bad rep 5 best friends, 1 new girl, 1 childhood friendship, 1 epic love triangle? What will this school year bring?

She had been trying hard to ignore the onslaught of messages from Kai, but the last ones he sent got her laughing quietly to herself. It was her 3rd period of the day, Science, and it was the first and only period on her schedule that she didn’t share with Kai or any of his friends. She wasn’t too nervous though, she knew how to handle herself well in most social situations.

She had her phone hidden under her desk, and she was about to give in and respond to Kai’s messages when she heard someone from her left.

“Pst. Hey.”

She looks up and sees a girl smiling at her. She had shoulder length hair and a confident smile on her face. “Um, sorry if that was rude. You’re the new girl, right?” the girl asks. She nods in response.

“It’s fine, yeah, I guess I’ll be living with that title for a bit. You can call me B, though.” B says, flashing a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, B. I’m Ryujin.” the girl says. She gestures over to another girl beside her. “This is Yuna.” the other girl, Yuna waves at B. “Hey there.” Yuna had long blonde hair and a bubbly air about her.

B waves back with a smile. “Hey, nice to meet you. How long have you 2 been studying here?”

“We’ve been here since freshman year. It’s a great school, I’m sure you’ll love it here.” Yuna says.

“How’s your first day going so far? Did you get the welcoming committee treatment?” Ryujin asks. “All new students get a short tour on their first day by representatives from the student council.”

B shrugs. “So far so good, yeah I was welcomed this morning before first period. It’s a great campus, I’m happy to be here.” she responds, trying to keep her voice low. The teacher wasn’t paying strict attention to the class since it was only the first day and he was just giving an introduction to their subject for the term.

“So, which of the legendary council members gave you the tour? Was it Beomgyu?” Ryujin mused. “Nah, Beomgyu doesn’t usually like dealing with council stuff. I bet it was Taehyun, he’s always down for official council business.”

“The legendary council members?” B asks, laughing a bit. “Actually, it was the 5 of them. Soobin the president, Taehyun the VP, Yeonjun the secretary, Beomgyu the treasurer, and Kai the public relations officer..” B started trailing off slowly when she noticed the odd looks on Ryujin and Yuna’s faces. “What?”

“So you’re telling me that the entirety of TXT gave you the campus tour?” Ryujin asks.

“TXT?” B asks. There goes that term again.

“Yeah, that’s what everyone calls the 5 members of the student council. They were all there this morning for the tour?”

“Entirety of TXT…yes? But it’s no big deal. Ningni–I mean Kai, is my childhood friend so I asked him to help me sort of get settled into the school since I know he goes here, but I didn’t know he was in the student council and everything? It’s no big deal though.” B says defensively, but she can see by the way Yuna’s eyes widened and Ryujin shook her head that somehow, she was wrong.

“You’re close friends with Kai?” Yuna asks.

B nods. “Yeah, I asked Kai to help me get settled in since I knew he was a student here, so I guess he was just doing me a favor?” she says defensively, but Ryujin just shakes her head again.

“Oh sweetie, you have no idea. Not once in the history of MOA has all 5 members of the legendary student council given a single new student a tour.” Ryujin says.

“Ah well, Kai’s my friend so I guess he was just doing me a favor. Really, I don’t think it’s such a big deal.” B says defensively.

“So how are you close friends with Kai?” Yuna asks, focused on the topic of Kai.

“We were best friends back in elementary school, practically inseparable, until we were finally separated when my family had to move away.” B explains. “Since then, I’ve only seen him a few times each year to catch up when we could, but since I got the chance to transfer schools, I ended up choosing the one he happens to go to now.”

“Oh wow, so you 2 grew up together.” Yuna says. “What was he like when he was younger?”

“Kai? He was gross.” B says, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, we were kids. He was a silly boy, always pulling pranks, always teased me and annoyed the hell out of me, but he was the sweetest boy I knew and the best friend I had.” she says, a fond smile on her face.

“Oh wow, I can only imagine. He sounds like he was an amazing kid. Is there any history between you two? Have you ever…dated?” Yuna asks, an intense look on her face.

Ryujin swats Yuna’s shoulder. “Yuna, come on. Can you please shut up about Kai.” she says teasingly. It was only then when B realized that Yuna probably had a crush on Kai.

“Oh, don’t worry, no romantic history between him and I at all. And there never will be.” B says. “I mean I had a crush on him at first when we were kids, but ew god, I can’t see him as anything other than a brother now.”

Yuna raises a brow. “Oh, you had a crush on him? Are you sure you don’t have any feelings for him now?” she asks. B was amazed at how straightforward this girl was, somehow she admired her for it.

B shakes her head. “Positive. None at all.”

“Well now that that’s been settled,” Ryujin says, wanting to steer the conversation away from Kai, “what do you think of his friends then?”

“You mean the other council members? What about them?” B asks.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, they’re practically legends at this school. And with good reason.” Ryujin explains. “MO Academy has never had a group of guys as talented, smart, charismatic, and attractive as them around. Especially not all in one group, and especially not in the student council. They’re legendary.”

Yuna nods. “TXT are like the gods of MOA.”

“What exactly is TXT?” B asks. “The guys mentioned it during the tour, but when I asked them they didn’t really know either.”

“It’s a nickname that people started calling them. I’m actually not sure who started it or what it means exactly, I think it means Tall and Tasty, cause they all are.” Yuna says, laughing. “But I think it means different things to different people, depending on who you ask.”

“Tall and Tasty?” B says, amused. “I mean, they are all practically giants.”

“They’re all pretty tasty, too! I mean, you’ve seen them. You spent the whole morning with them. You should know.” Yuna says teasingly.

“I mean, they’re all pretty friendly and nice.” B says. “But I don’t really know them yet, so I really can’t judge.”

“Well if you must know, they’re all pretty much legendary in their own ways.” Yuna says. “First there’s the youngest member, Kai.”

“I already know about him. I grew up with him.” B says, but Yuna interjects.

“Yes, but do you know what he’s like now?” Yuna begins, “He’s dreamy, he’s charming, he’s cheeky, he’s-”

“Yeah yeah, let’s just say Kai is like the human version of Dopamine.” Ryujin interrupts, wanting to keep it short and straightforward.

Yuna nods. “He’s like a ray of sunshine, he’s energetic and he makes everyone feel warm and fuzzy. Not to mention talented, he’s the president of the Art club, he’s part of the instrumental team for Jazzed, and he’s the student council’s public relations officer, so he’s an all-around friendly person.”

“Wait, he’s part of the instrumental team for what now?” B asks. “I mean, I know he’s musically inclined, but I didn’t know if he was still like practicing it.”

“Jazzed, it’s our music club but there’s a lot more to it than music. They’re like an entire production crew or something, you’ll learn all about it on Club Recruitment Day.” Ryujin says dismissively. “Oh Yuna, you forgot to mention that Kai plays basketball.”

Yuna laughs. “How could I forget? He looks adorable in his jersey. Soobin and Yeonjun don’t look half bad either.”

“Wow, I didn’t know he was into sports.” B says, amused. “Do they all play basketball?”

“Nah, it’s just the 3, but Beomgyu and Taehyun definitely aren’t lacking in the extracurriculars either. They’ve all got different things going for them.”

“Different things?” B asks.

“Yeah, take Taehyun for example. While Kai is bright and energetic, Taehyun shines as well, but in a different way. He’s a scholar, so his grades are always topnotch, and he’s always been in the school’s Honors society. He excels at everything he does, such as singing and dancing. He has the best vocals in Jazzed club. He’s the president of the debate club, leading our school into regional championships since he started. Plus, he’s the student council vice president despite being just a sophomore, and he’s set to take over once Soobin graduates. Kang Taehyun is pretty much perfect, honestly.” Yuna enumerates.

Ryujin smirks. “Pretty much, except he’s just too perfect. No one can match him. He’s too focused on succeeding that he hasn’t really showed interest in dating anyone, or rather no one has succeeded in dating him anyway.”

“What do you mean no one’s succeeded?” B asks.

“Well, he has his fair share of admirers, and don’t get me wrong he’s very nice and charismatic, but it’s like he’s too nice? He’ll never flirt, he’ll never show interest. When girls talk to him, you can just feel that he’s not interested, even though he’s really polite.” Yuna explains. “He’s intense, but really nice. He’s like…a King. King Taehyun.”

“In contrast, Beomgyu is more laidback, less intense.” Ryujin begins. “He’s more into anything that has to do with cameras, like film and photography. He’s the best photographer and videographer on campus. He’s also the editor and chief of the school paper, but he isn’t uptight about how he runs it cause they say he’s more like a supportive mentor than a strict manager, but he’s a big perfectionist so despite his carefree style of handling things, he somehow manages to ensure flawless outputs in everything he does. He may be part of the student council, but he feels more like an average student compared to the rest of them, like he can make anyone feel like they’re his friend.”

Yuna nods. “Mhm, yeah, very well said for someone who used to date him.”

B’s eyes widened. “Wow, you and Beomgyu used to date? When? What happened?” she asks, surprised.

Ryujin chuckles at B’s reaction. “We went out last year while I was a freshman. He was assigned to give me my welcoming committee campus tour and we became friends for a bit before we started going out. It didn’t work out between us, and we only dated for a couple of months, but we’re still on pretty good terms now. No hard feelings or anything” she explains.

“You guys were really cute together.” Yuna says in awe. “I mean, you still are. You’ve still got great chemistry, even as post-break up friends, but you 2 were so sweet together. Remember when he played you that song last Valentine’s Day? That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Oh wow, that sounds like something a girl could only dream of.” B sighs. “Wait, Beomgyu can sing too?”

Yuna nods. “Yes, and he can play the guitar like a pro.” she says dreamily. “If I were Ryujin, I would’ve melted on the spot.”

“I don’t melt. You’re just too much of a softy.” Ryujin scoffs. “And yeah, he’s pretty good at playing the guitar. His voice isn’t bad either. He’s part of the Jazzed club as well. Now that I think about it, all 5 members of the student council are in Jazzed.”

“What, they’re all musically inclined?” B asks, amazed.

Yuna nods. “Kai knows the most about instruments, Taehyun’s vocals are heavenly, Beomgyu plays the guitar like a pro, Soobin composes songs like a genius, and Yeonjun was just born to be the star.”

B nods, taking it all in, until she says, “Wait, Yeonjun? Born to be the star? The star of what?”

“Of, well, everything I guess?” Ryujin answers. “He writes songs and everyone says he can sing though no one’s really heard him sing before. And not only is he musically inclined, he’s the president of the dance club too, and he dances like he was born to do it.”

Yuna nods. “I mean, Kai’s amazing, but when Yeonjun dances, I can’t keep my eyes off of him.” she admits. “Not to mention he’s the captain of the basketball team. He dominates the court every time. You’d think Kai or Soobin would do better cause of their height, but Yeonjun’s got skills.”

“Yeonjun sounds amazing.” B says in awe. These boys were starting to sound more legendary by the minute.

Ryujin scoffs. “I mean, he’s great and all, but he’s…complicated.”

B raises a brow. “Complicated? How?”

“Well let’s just say that he’s got a lot of history, with a lot of people.” Yuna begins. “He’s hot and cold, one minute he’s on fire and the next he’s the ice king. First he’ll treat you like you’re the sun and the stars in his world then out of nowhere he becomes this black hole and you’re gone. Just like that.” She snaps her fingers. “I mean, I haven’t had any firsthand experience with him, but our friend Yeji was obsessed with him last year. They only went out a couple of times, but she was crushed.”

Ryujin shook her head with pity. “And despite his record, girls still fall at his feet. Every girl wants to believe that they can be ‘the one,’ I guess.”

“Oh god, no thanks. I was never into bad boys, anyway.” B says, laughing.

“No, don’t get us wrong, he’s not a bad boy. He’s actually a really nice, cool guy. He’s just complicated, is all.” Yuna clarifies.

Ryujin nods “And it’s not just his dating history that’s complicated. That guy’s life hasn’t been very easy on him, either. He even got suspended last year, so it’s a miracle that they let him in the student council again this year.”

B’s interest was immediately heightened. She’d been curious about it ever since Beomgyu let it slip during the tour. “He was suspended last year? What for?” she asks casually.

Yuna shrugs. “That’s the thing, no one really knows. No one ever mentions it out loud. He suddenly stopped coming into school in the middle of our final term. It was weird cause at the time he was already the student council secretary, and although his father pulls him out of school on some days, he was already set to graduate. It was supposed to be his final term at the school, but he just stopped coming to school altogether. And no one really knew why, the council members and everyone on the school board kept very hush about it, as if he never existed. Everyone assumed that his father had finally enlisted him to take over the family business, or that he had suddenly moved away or something, so it was a shock to everyone when his named appeared on the list of student council members again this year.” She explains. “I mean, sure he has to repeat his senior year and everything, but its’s a bit of a surprise that he’s still on the council despite getting suspended during his supposedly final term.”

“That does sound very strange.” B says. Hearing more about it only filled her head with more questions. She also felt sorry for him, as she remembered how bad her last term at her last school was for her as well. “Oh, you mentioned something about his father and the family business? What’s that about?”

“Oh, his father is the CEO of YJ Choi Corporation. His family owns it.” Ryujin pipes in. “You may think that all the students at this school are pretty rich, apart from the handful of scholars of course, but his family is filthy rich. Loaded. And he’s next in line as CEO, so his father sometimes pulls him out of school to do business stuff.”

B lets out a breath. “Oh wow. He does sound complicated.” she says, taking in all the new information. “He sounds very different from how you described the other boys.”

“Well, let’s just say they’re a very diverse group of boys with a very interesting group dynamic.” Ryujin says, chuckling.

“Oh, we haven’t even mentioned Mr. President, Choi Soobin himself.” Yuna squeals. “Now, he’s just absolutely–” she began, but was interrupted when the bell rang.

“Alright students, hope our first day of class was productive for you. I have clearly outlined our syllabus for the term, so I expect some reading to be done in advance. Biology is fun! See you all tomorrow.” their teacher says as he dismisses the class.

“Class is over already? Wow, the period just flew by. Is it really lunch time already?” Ryujin asks.

B shrugs and checks her phone for the time. Only then does she see the number of texts from Kai.

“Hey B, you wanna have lunch with us? We haven’t even mentioned Soobin yet! I’m sure our other friends wouldn’t mind having you with us either.” Yuna asks her excitedly.

“Actually, Kai and his friends already offered to have lunch with me. He’s actually waiting for me outside.” B says apologetically.

Yuna’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, he’s outside our room?? Right now?” she squeals. “Can I walk you out of the room? Maybe you can introduce us.” Yuna asks, her eyes sparkling.

B laughs. “Yeah, sure, let’s go.” she says, collecting her things. As she walks out the door with Ryujin and Yuna by her side, she sees Kai standing across the hall, leaning against some lockers. He stands up straight as he sees the girls walk out.

“Baba! Why weren’t you answering my texts?” he asks, pouting a bit.

“Sorry, I got caught up in something with my seatmates.” she says, laughing. “Ningning, these are my seatmates, Yuna,” she says, gesturing to Yuna, who gives Kai a bright smile and a friendly wave which Kai reciprocates, “and this is–”

“Ryujin! Hey.” Kai says, surprised. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.” he says a bit awkwardly.

B was about to ask him how he knew her, until she remembered her history with Beomgyu.

“Right back at ya.” Ryujin says, laughing slightly. “Well, Yuna and I have to go meet up with the girls. Say hi to Gyu for me.” she says, tugging at Yuna’s arm and giving B a smile before heading down the hall.

B turns to face Kai, her eyebrow raised. “I think you have a lot of explaining to do.” she says.

“What do you mean?” Kai asks, laughing nervously.

“I’ll fill you in on the way to lunch. Let’s go.” B says, hooking Kai’s arm with hers as she starts to walk down the hall.

“Um, Baba?” Kai says, trying to pull B in his direction. “Lunch is this way.” he says.

B lets out a huff, turns around, and pulls Kai in the other direction. “Okay, so here’s what I know so far…”

•°•

“So is it true?” B asks after relaying everything to Kai.

“Is what true?” he asks, his arm still hooked in hers as he leads her past the quadrangle and into the grassy school grounds.

“Um, everything? Beomgyu and Ryujin’s history, Taehyun being a scholar, Yeonjun being suspended last year?” she says in return. “Plus, where the hell are we going? Wasn’t the cafeteria the other way?”

Kai smiles. “Yeah, I guess you can say there’s some truth to it all. And yeah, I know where the cafeteria is, but that’s not where we’re going.”

“Just some truth? What do you mean?” she asks. “And if we’re not going to the cafeteria, then where are we going?” she asks again, exasperated. She hated walking, and it felt like they’ve been walking for an hour even though it had only been 5 minutes.

Kai abruptly stops walking then, startling B as she walks into his chest. “Oof, what–” she starts, but Kai looks at her intently then, which shut her up. She hadn’t seen him look this serious since they were kids.

“Look, people talk. Everyone has a lot of things to say, you will hear many things about me and everyone else in the council. Some of these things may be true, but some of them might be complete bullshit. I’ll tell you everything you need to know later, but right now, I need you to set your curiosity aside and just enjoy having lunch with us.” he says softly. “I know you’re curious, I know how stubborn you can be, I know you’re probably dying to know everything. Trust me, I know you.” he says, laughing a bit when she pouted at him. “But right now I just need you to behave, enjoy my company, and try not to act like a lunatic. Can you do that for me?”

B nods. “You know I would never embarrass you, if that’s what you mean.” she huffs. “I promise to keep my mouth shut in front of your friends” she says. “Now will you tell me where the hell we’re having lunch?”

Kai grins. “Thanks, Baba. You’re the best.” he squeezes her cheek. “No need to tell you, we’re almost there.” he says, leading her a few more steps forward until they finally reach a gazebo draped with different kinds of flowers, and inside was a round table made of marble with a round bench built in along its walls. And on the bench sat the 4 other members of the student council, their packed lunches spread out across the round table, looking like something out of an anime.

B raised a brow at Kai as they approached the gazebo. “A garden gazebo is your lunch spot? Are you kidding me? What kind of students are you?” Kai just laughs in response. “Do you guys eat lunch here everyday?”

“Why don’t you ask them?” Kai says, before waving a hand in the air and yelling “Hey guys, we’re here!”

4 heads turn towards them then, and they all smile as they see Kai and B approaching.

“Took you guys long enough. Come sit with us.” Taehyun says, motioning them over.

“Where do you wanna sit, Baba?” Kai asks as they enter the gazebo. “Wanna sit next to me?”

“Come on, she’s probably sick of you by now, Hyuka.” Beomgyu scoffs jokingly, while the other boys snicker. “You can sit wherever you want, B.” he says.

B assessed the situation. It was a round table, so there weren’t really any sides to choose from. The one closest to the entrance of the gazebo was Yeonjun, and he seemed to be busy as he kept alternating between using his phone and leaving it on the table. Beomgyu and Taehyun were beside each other, and their food was already half eaten so she could tell that they had already settled in. Next was Soobin, who had his lunch box on the table still unpacked, he had both hands atop the table as if he were waiting for everyone to arrive before getting started on his lunch. Out of the 4 boys seated, B figured it would be safest to sit next to Soobin.

“Alright then, I think I’ll sit next to Mr. President himself.” B says, making her way around the table towards where Soobin was seated. “Do you mind?” she asks with a sweet smile on her face.

He smiles brightly as he says, “Not at all, this spot is all yours.” He pats on the space next to him. She thanks him as she sets her things down and takes a seat.

Kai follows suit and occupies the space next to her. “Good call, Baba. I usually sit next to Soobin anyway. Yeonjun’s always too busy to talk, while Gyu and Taehyun start eating right away.” he says, laying his lunch on the table.

Beomgyu snorts. “It’s only cause you all take your sweet ass time getting here, my stomach waits for no one.”

Taehyun, surprisingly, nods in agreement. “Time is important, and we only have an hour to eat and rest, so I’d like to maximize the free time I have.” he says matter-of-factly. “Unless you’d prefer that we wait for you to get here before we begin?”

It took B a moment before she realized that Taehyun was talking to her, Kai had to nudge her leg under the table before she straightened up, swallowed her food, and gave Taehyun a bright smile. “No, you guys don’t have to worry about me, thanks. Sorry, my mouth was full.” she replied sheepishly.

Taehyun smiled back warmly, and damn it, he did look somehow regal as he did. “Thanks, we’ll keep that in mind. No worries.” he said.

“So how’s your first day at MOA so far, B?” Soobin asks politely as he begins to eat as well.

Just as B swallows her food and opens her mouth to answer Soobin’s question, she stops when the sound of a cellphone ringing loudly pierces through the gazebo.

“Yeonjun, why isn’t your phone on silent mode? Lunch break still counts as school hours, you kno–” Taehyun begins, but he stops when he sees the tense look on Yeonjun’s face. “Oh.” he says quietly. The rest of the boys fall silent too.

Yeonjun purses his lips together and stands up to leave before answering his phone. He steps out of the gazebo as he says “Hello?”

“So…” Beomgyu begins, breaking the silence. “B? How’s your first day so far?”

She plasters on a smile, trying to tune out Yeonjun as he spoke on the phone a few steps away from the gazebo. “So far, so good. I thought my science class would be lonely, but I was able to get along with my seatmates, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“…it’s my first day back, and already you pull shit like this?” B heard Yeonjun say, as much as she tried not to listen.

“Oh right, none of us have 3rd period with you.” Soobin says. “Good to know you got along with some classmates though.”

“…do you seriously think it’s a good idea for me to skip class on my first day back…”

“Seatmates, huh? Who are they? Anyone we know?” Beomgyu asks curiously.

Taehyun comments “I doubt it would be anyone you know since she takes Sophomore Science and you’re a batch higher than her class.”

“…I’m still on probation from last term, so I honestly don’t think this is the best…”

“Oh actually,” B begins, until she feels Kai kick her shin under the table. She does her best to suppress any expression of pain and annoyance as she looks at Kai, who was giving her a warning smile. She smiled at him with the same energy as she continued, “actually, it was just a couple of girls in my grade. They were really nice, very good company, so they actually made third period enjoyable for me.”

“…please, I don’t want to go…”

“Well I bet your next period will be more enjoyable, since you’ll be sharing it with me.” Beomgyu says, wiggling his brows at her, which caused her to laugh and Kai to scoff.

“Please, I bet it’ll be a snore.” Kai says. “It is French class, after all.”

“…I’m at the gazebo.” Yeonjun says as he finishes the call and makes his way back into the gazebo.

“Yes, it’s French class, but French class with me is better than just plain French class, you know what I’m saying?” Beomgyu says, trying to keep the atmosphere light as Yeonjun sits back down.

All the boys look at him with concern, and there’s a moment of silence as they all seem to be waiting for him to speak.

Yeonjun runs his hand through his blue hair, clearly frustrated. “So, apparently, I’m being pulled out of classes this afternoon.” he says. “My dearest father sends his regards.” he adds bitterly.

“Already? But it’s just your first day back.” Soobin says with a hint of concern. “You feeling okay?”

Yeonjun nods. “Yeah, it just sucks I guess.” he sighs. “Sorry you had to see that, by the way.” he apologizes to B. “But as you can see, my dad is a bit of a dick and wants me to skip afternoon classes on my first day back.”

B nods, accepting his apology. “Trust me, I know how shitty parents can be.” she says sympathetically. “I’ve never known any parent who actually wants their child to skip classes, though. Can he do that?” she asks.

The blue-haired boy laughs as he says “Trust me, my father is unlike any parent you know.” he says, as he starts to collect his things. “And trust me, he can do anything.”

“Looks like your chariot awaits.” Kai says, as a black sedan with blacked out windows pulls up close to the gazebo.

Yeonjun sighs as he stands up and slings his bag over his shoulder. “See you later, alligators.” he says, giving the boys a salute.

“Come back soon, crocodile.” the 4 boys respond, giving him salutes back. A man dressed in a black suit steps out of the car and opens the door, waiting for Yeonjun to come inside.

As Yeonjun steps out of the gazebo, he pauses, looks back and says “Later, Baby.” as he flashes a smile her way before continuing on and getting into the car.

There’s silence as everyone watches the car drive away.

“Okay, I hope you guys don’t mind me asking, but I think that warrants some sort of explanation.” B says, breaking the silence. The other boys look at her then, and she could tell by the looks on their faces that they knew she was right, but that they were hesitant to tell her anything. She felt Kai squeeze her hand under the table. She looks at him, and he gives her a small nod, and she takes it as a go signal to ask,

“So, what was that all about?”

21 notes · View notes

readyplayerhobi · 6 years ago

Text

The Evolution of You and I

; Hybrid!Jimin x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, light angst, mentions of smut

; Word Count: 10.2k

; Warnings: Mentions of loss of virginity, discussion of sex

; Synopsis: For 15 years, Park Jimin has been in your life in some form. From childhood penpal’s to the closest of friends now, you can’t imagine your life without him even if you’ve never actually met him in person. It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen for him, even across the distance that separates you. But what happens when you finally meet up and you discover he’s been keeping something secret?

; A/N: Based on this prompt from @hybridfanfiction! I read it and immediately wanted to do something, so this happened. It’s in a bit of a more unusual format to my other stuff but I hope you all enjoy it anyway :)

8 Years Old

“Can anyone tell me what a penpal is?” Miss Kim asks the class with a pleasant tone to her voice, pretty pink lips turned up gently. She’s so pretty, you always think to yourself, and you like to be in her class. She makes learning fun and never makes you feel bad for not knowing things.

Looking around, a few people raise their hands and give answers that get carefully turned down by her before she gives a bright smile, white teeth shining in the harsh lighting. “A penpal, is someone that you write to who lives far away. Sometimes they live in other countries, sometimes they just live in other parts of the same country. Lots of people become friends this way!”

Miss Kim starts to walk around the room and hands out plain, ruled pieces of paper. “We’re going to be penpals with students from another school in Busan. That’s on the other side of the country from us, on the seaside. Each paper I’m giving you has the name of a student that you are going to write to, so tell them about yourselves. Ask them about themselves. Try and make up a friendship!”

“Miss...what do we say?” You ask quietly as she hands you your sheet of paper. A few of the kids near the supplies are handing out packs of coloured pencils and pens and you take a handful of multi-coloured pencils that are pleasing to your young mind.

A letter can always use extra decorations!

“Well...tell them your name and your age maybe. What you like to do for fun. Your favourite film or animal. Whatever you want to say. It’s your letter!” Watching her carefully, you look back down at your letter with a frown and ponder what to write to your potential new friend.

Park Jimin (Boy), is written across the top in Miss Kim’s pretty handwriting. For a moment, you look across the room at the Park Jimin in your own class and marvel at the fact there’s another out there in Busan, only he’s a boy!

Taking hold of the pink pencil, your tongue sticks out cutely as your brow frowns intensely and you begin to write your letter, ignorant of the raucous laughter and yelling of the rest of your students.

Dear Jimin,

Hi! I’m Y/N, a girl! I go to school in Seoul. Miss Kim says you’re in..Boosan? On the seaside? Is it pretty? We don’t have sea here, but the Han river is okay. It smells sometimes.

Do you go to the beach? Are there crabs? I’ve never seen a crab! I like horses. Do you have horses? There’s no horses in Seoul. Do you like horses?

My favourite film is Hercules. I want to be a god too! Wouldn’t that be cool! I can save you if you want?

Please write back!

From, Y/N

Once done, you draw a bunch of tiny horses around the page in yellows, purples and pinks before adding sparkly stars and a crab or two for Jimin. Because he might like crabs, and you don’t want him to miss out on your decoration too.

You also draw a terrible stick person drawing of yourself. Lips pursing in annoyance, you draw an arrow and note down that your head isn’t really that big. It’s like an astronaut, and you don’t want Jimin to think that. He might not like astronaut people and never write back!

“Is everyone done?” Miss Kim calls out from the front of the classroom, hands clasped against her stomach as she waits for everyone to quiet down. You nod repeatedly before smiling at her brightly as you move to the front and hand her your letter. She looks over it before giving you an approving nod and adding it to her stack.

“That’s wonderful everyone. I’ll get these posted as soon as possible and then we just have to wait!”

And so you do, impatiently so and completely unaware that your life had changed for the better.

Hi Y/N!

I’m Jimin, it’s nice to meet you. I live in Busan and the sea is very pretty here. It’s blue, like the sky but more green. It smells funny sometimes too, but I like it. I see crabs a lot! Maybe I can send you one?

I’d like to see the Han river! It’s famous right? In movies and films. And I have no horses, but I have been horse riding! They’re big and scary, but friendly. They don’t really like me though. You should go.

I don’t need saving, but I like Spider-Man films. He saves people too! We can be a superhero team! Wouldn’t that be cool?

What do you like to eat? Do you like seafood? We have lots here, but I don’t like. I like meat, it’s yummy.

Please write back soon!

From, Jimin

9 Years Old

Hi Jimin,

It was my birthday yesterday. I’m now 9! Are you 9 too? So you know, my birthday is September 12th. It’s very important, so don’t forget. I’ll draw a picture of my cake for you!

When’s your birthday? Is it soon? Do you like cake too? Who doesn’t like cake? It’s so nice.

School is so boring. I don’t think I like school. Do you? What’s your favourite subject? It’s strange that you send your letters to my house now. I get mail with my name on! My mom puts it on the side for me.

Do you like getting mail too?

Write back soon.

Hugs and kisses, Y/N!

Hi Y/N!

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Y/N...happy birthday to you!

My birthday isn’t until October 13th. So you’re older than me! Wow, that’s so cool. I hope you got a good birthday present! My mom helped me to pick out this friendship bracelet so I hope you like it.

I like cake! Your cake looked cool. I hope my cake looks like yours!

I love school! I love maths and science. I like numbers, they’re fun. If you need help, then I’ll try! I want to be a maths teacher when I grow up, it’d be cool. I can teach more kids about maths and get them to love it too.

I like getting mail cos it’s from you. What do you want to be when you grow up?

From, Jimin

12 Years Old

Hey Jimin,

So remember that stupid boy I told you about? Jackson? Well he kissed me today and it was totally gross and ewww. Why do grown ups like doing that? It was just...wet and icky. Have you ever been kissed yet?

I also had a maths test today and I think I did bad. I wish I was good at it like you! But I get to do arts tomorrow and I’m excited for that. I like drawing. I’ve drawn you a cute dragon on the back of this letter, so I hope you like it.

Is the weather in Busan nicer than here lately? It’s just been raining all the time and is so grey. Soyeon said we should go to karaoke for her birthday but...I don’t really like it. I’m not good at singing. Are you good?

Write back soon!

Hugs and kisses, Y/N.

Hey Y/N,

I’m so glad I got your letter today. It wasn’t a very good day :( these people in my school made fun of me for how I look. It made me upset. I can’t change any of that and it made my mom cry when I told her. I didn’t want to make her cry :(

I haven’t been kissed, but it sounds gross. Maybe I’ll stay away from kissing for a while, I trust you! But I guess maybe you need to be grownup to enjoy it? Who knows. We’re still kids!

And I’m sorry about your test. I hope you did well on it but if not then I’m trying to send you my maths knowledge! Your drawing was so good, you’re so good at it! I got my mom to put it up on my wall when I’d coloured it in for you. Can you draw me one that’s coloured in too so I can put that on my wall as well?

It’s sunny here in Busan! I’ve been going to the beach with my brother a lot and playing with our football. I like running around and doing things outside and we both like to play football. Would you play football with us if we ever met? We’re very fast!

Mom says I have a good singing voice, but I don’t like doing it. It makes me shy. You should go with your friends, it might be fun!

Write back :)

Hugs and kisses, Jimin

14 Years Old

To: Park Jimin <[email protected]>

From: Y/N <[email protected]>

Subject: HI!!!!!!!!

JIMINNIEEEEEEEE,

Oh my god. This is our first email, isn’t this weird? O-o

Like…you’re going to get this immediately after I send it! We can talk so much faster instead of waiting for the stupid post. And now we don’t have to worry about writing neatly.

Not that I wrote neatly for you or anything. Cos I totally didn’t.

But still, this is so cool right? My computer is in my living room and my mom keeps track of what I do. Is it like that for you too?

How did your date go with Chaeyoung? Did it go well? I know you were nervous about it but you’re so sweet and kind. I think she’d be missing out if she said no! I’d love to see what she looks like, I’ve never seen a Fennec fox hybrid but I’m sure she’s so pretty and cute.

Argh, write back to me soon please! ^-^

Hugs and kisses, Y/N

To: Y/N <[email protected]>

From: Park Jimin <[email protected]>

Subject: RE: HI!!!!!!!!

\(^U^)/ Y/N!

I’m writing this after only getting it five minutes ago. Isn’t that cool? This is going to make talking to you so easy.

You so wrote neat for me. I can tell. Your writing always got sloppy at the end when you were tired on the longer letters. But it’s okay. I’ll tell you a secret...I used to write neat for you too…

My computer is in my room, but that’s because my brother also has one and my dad has a laptop. They trust me, but they still check my history. So I have to be careful what I go on. I don’t want to get in trouble.

I did take Chaeyoung on a date! I was so nervous ^^; but she said yes! Can you believe that? I almost threw up. She wouldn’t have said yes then. But thanks for having faith in me! ^o^

She’s so pretty. She’s got this...blonde hair that looks like honey and it’s like light is in it. Her ears are so cute too, I bet the fur is soft. I sound sappy, my friends would laugh if I said this. You won’t right? Do...you like hybrids? Some people don’t.

I took her on a date along the beachfront here in Busan. We had dinner at a barbeque place and then went to the movies. I saw Iron Man and it was so cool. Then we had bungeobbang and walked along the front. The sea is pretty at night. Maybe I should take a picture for you? We can send pictures on email right?

Do you still like that Yugyeom? Or do you not want to kiss him because only grown ups do that and it’s icky? Hehe.

Hugs and kisses, Jimin.

To: Park Jimin <[email protected]>

From: Y/N <[email protected]>

Subject: RE: RE: HI!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD. SHUT UP. I WAS 12 AND KNEW NOTHING.

I hate you.

To: Y/N <[email protected]>

From: Park Jimin <[email protected]>

Subject: RE: RE: RE: HI!!!!!!!!

ㅠㅡㅠ

I’m sorry! Come back...please. I swear, I won’t mention it again!

17 Years Old

Park Jimin has signed in.

Y/N: Jimin!

Park Jimin: Jfc what! Let me sign in first u demon

Y/N: So...I went on a date with Eunho yesterday. Said yes 2 him.

Y/N: He took me bowling and I really wanted him 2 kiss me but he was all ‘I’m being a gentleman’.

Y/N: Think my dad said something 2 him :(

Y/N: Do u think he even likes me?

Park Jimin: Y would u think that?

Y/N: Well...he’s a guy! A teenage guy! U r all dumb and hormonal right?

Park Jimin: Am I supposed 2 be supporting u? Or are u trying 2 offend me?

Y/N: Shh, u kno I love u <333

Y/N: But it’s true. Every1 in my class has done it. Why is Eunho being slow?

Park Jimin: Woah woah!

Park Jimin: Not a race! It was ur first date. Calm down James Bond. Mayb Eunho hasn’t done it either?

Park Jimin: I haven’t

Y/N: Ur school is full of dumb girls

Park Jimin: Y?

Y/N: Cus u r cute

Park Jimin: :3

Park Jimin: ^^; <3

Y/N: :( seriously tho…

Park Jimin: Hey...it’s ok. Don’t worry. Pls.

Y/N: K. Did u pass your test?

Park Jimin: :D

Y/N: Omg yay! I bet ur mom n dad are so proud!

Park Jimin: Yeah, they bought me dinner out. I got top in my class…

Park Jimin: I also got voted class president…

Y/N: Omg, my best friend is such a nerd

Park Jimin: >:o

Park Jimin: Y u so mean?!

Y/N: Cos I love u <3

Y/N: Well done tho. I kno u were worried. But I had faith!

Park Jimin: Thanks :)

Y/N: I asked my mom 4 a dog for my birthday btw

Y/N: But she said no :(

Y/N: Cos my parents work 2 much

Y/N: And I’m only home for 2 more years

Park Jimin: Oh no :( sry

Park Jimin: What would u have wanted? A puppy?

Y/N: Yeah...mayb. We couldn’t have a big dog

Y/N: Our apartment is 2 small here, so small dog

Y/N: My friend has a Cocker Spaniel

Y/N: She’s cute, but she jumps everywhere

Park Jimin: Spaniel’s r cute! :D

Y/N: Would u get a dog?

Park Jimin: Nah

Y/N: What?! Y not?! Dogs r the best

Park Jimin: I don’t like the idea :(

Y/N: Y not?

Park Jimin: Cos...I just don’t. Mom n dad wouldn’t get one anyway

Y/N: That sucks. Don’t get fish tho. They’re boring

Park Jimin: Haha, I won’t

Park Jimin: Hey, did u see that new show out? Game of Thrones?

Y/N: Omg yes

Y/N: So much sex

Y/N: My parents don’t want me 2 watch

Park Jimin: But u did?

Y/N: Hehe

18 Years Old

Park Jimin has signed in.

Park Jimin: Hi :)

Park Jimin: Hello?

Park Jimin: Y/N??

Park Jimin: Are u there?

Y/N: Hey...sorry. Yeah, I’m here

Park Jimin: ...are you okay?

Y/N: ...no

Y/N: Not really ;(

Park Jimin: Y?! What’s wrong?!

Park Jimin: What happened? Who do I have to 2 hurt???

Y/N: Eunho…

Park Jimin: What?

Park Jimin: Eunho?

Park Jimin: What’s he done? You’ve been dating for 7 months now?!

Park Jimin: Y/N...talk 2 me :(

Park Jimin: Pls

Y/N: We had sex last night

Park Jimin: Ok...but u wanted that? Right?

Park Jimin: I mean...u said u wanted it? That u were ready?

Y/N: :(

Park Jimin: :( what happened?

Y/N: It was awful Jimminie :(

Park Jimin: <3 u don’t have to talk 2 me. Have u talked to Soyeon about it?

Y/N: No...I don’t want 2. It’s embarrassing

Park Jimin: Ok, u don’t have to do anything

Y/N: No, I want 2 talk to u

Y/N: It hurt so much :( and he didn’t care

Y/N: I told him, but he just said it’s supposed to

Y/N: I cried and went home

Y/N: He broke up with me this morning

Park Jimin: I’m gonna kill him

Park Jimin: I’m gonna fucking kill him

Park Jimin: I’ll bite him so damn hard

Park Jimin: The asshole. I knew he wasn’t good enough for u >:[

Y/N: Jiminnie...y are u going to bite him silly?

Y/N: It’s okay. It’s my fault.

Park Jimin: NO!

Park Jimin: It’s NOT ur fault. U thought u were ready and u loved him

Park Jimin: But he was a dick.

Park Jimin: I’ll bite him for you

Y/N: Haha, y u biting people?

Park Jimin: I’m sorry :( please don’t blame urself

Park Jimin: Ur smart and funny and kind. He messed up. He lost something great. Ur amazing, remember that

Y/N: :)

Y/N: Thank u

Y/N: It hurts, and it will. But I’m happier talking to u already

Park Jimin: I’ll always be here 4 u

Park Jimin: As cheesy as that sounds

Y/N: No...I need it

Y/N: I need my best friend right now

Y/N: <3

Park Jimin: <3

20 Years Old

Sitting in the uncomfortable desk chair in your university dorm, you chew your lips nervously as the Skype ringtone plays into the silent air around you. Over the years, you’ve had phone calls with Jimin occasionally on special moments, such as your birthday or his.

In recent years, there’s been a few more but never too many. Plus it was expensive after a while. The two of you have preferred to instant message each other on your laptops in your rooms, but now video calling is a thing. A common thing apparently.

You’d been vaguely aware of it, but it hadn’t entered your head to ask Jimin if he wanted to. Particularly given your laptop was not the best. But you’d been given a brand new laptop for Christmas and so had he. There was no reason to not at least try it anymore.

So here you were, in the silence of your dorm room and waiting for the call to connect to Jimin.

Not only were you nervous because you would be talking to him instead of just typing, but it was a video call. You’d only ever seen the occasional picture of Jimin over the years, taken at some odd angle so that half his head was cropped out or something ridiculous like that.

He’d complained that he didn’t like to have his picture taken, but you didn’t understand why. You always remembered him as being pretty cute, though your last photo was from two years ago. So maybe he got really ugly or something.

Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Looking to the side, you pick up your ballpoint pen to write down a few notes that suddenly enter your head that will be useful for your homework that you plan on doing later. It’s for your stupid required mathematics class, and you’re half wondering if you can get Jimin to stay online long enough with you to help you out.

It still boggles your mind that he’s going to voluntarily be doing a mathematics degree. Like...he actually likes numbers that much.

A soft laugh leaves you as you suddenly remember one of his original letters, where he’d said that he wanted to be a maths teacher. Who knew that he was entirely serious about that?

“Hello?” A quiet voice that was surprisingly husky calls out through your speakers and you look back with widened eyes, taking in the sight on screen eagerly. He must be laid on his bed or something, as his head is really close to the screen and you can almost see down his shirt.

Which immediately causes you to focus on his eyes, because you can’t handle that. You know he still does dance and soccer, even in uni, and he likes to playfully brag about his ‘rock hard abs’. He’s not quite Dwayne Johnson levels of fit though, despite his boasting over the previous year.

“Shit, damn,” You curse as you scrawl across the page in an ugly mark before dropping the pen and looking back at him with a bright smile. “Hi! Jimin! Hi!”

The two of you go silent, the mood slightly awkward between you both as you take in the sight of him. And he’s doing the same to you, big and bright eyes tracking over the image of your face on screen before he’s letting out a tiny laugh, sound hitching on the highest point of his exhale.

He’s got what look like a plain white shirt on, and you frown at seeing the black beanie pulled down over his head, honey-blonde hair covering up dark eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t like hats? You said they hurt your ears?”

You’d always thought that was slightly odd, but if it was painful for him then you’d just accepted what he said. But seeing him on screen with a hat pulled all the way down till the tips of his ears are hiding behind them has you frowning.

Almost immediately you see his tan cheeks flush red even through the combination of a screen and crappy lighting on his end and bizarrely, his hand taps at the top of his beanie, pressing down on the soft material with a slightly panicked look in his eye.

“I don’t...like hats. But...I mean...I just...use them now. I haven’t washed my hair and I did soccer practice today. So it’s gross.” Jimin’s muttering by the end, looking down at something before giving you a shy smile and you feel something flutter in your stomach at the sight.

It’s only then that you properly take him in, noting the softly rounded cheeks that are still filled with baby fat that are juxtaposed with the sharpness of his jawline. His lashes are dark and full, casting a tiny shadow on his cheeks whenever he looks down and you frown at the bizarre mixture of feelings that sizzle in your veins.

Jimin is your best friend, and has been for years. He knows everything about you. Literally everything. Probably stuff guys shouldn’t know, but he knows it anyway. Because he’s always been so easy to talk to and non-judgemental.

You’ve never even considered what he looks like because the pictures are so infrequent and you only cared about him talking to you. Hearing him speak alone is a feast for your ears as you continue to talk and idly discuss your classes in the days since you’ve last messaged, light and high when excited yet hoarse and almost gravelly when he gets serious.

But you’d be the dumbest girl in Seoul if you turned round and said Jimin wasn’t attractive. You felt a little stupid when you realised this, given how long you’ve known him. In fact, Jimin was perhaps the most attractive guy you’ve ever seen, and you suddenly felt shy with him as you continue to talk.

Oddly shy, and yet it’s like you’ve always talked face to face. For hours, the conversation flows and you even find yourself doing your homework with the camera facing you, getting Jimin’s help on your maths equations while the two of you discuss dumb stuff.

He even plays his favourite music for you, unfortunately a Chris Brown song, which leads to a whole argument about his music choices. Even if he spends half the argument laughing at your outrage before giving in with raised hands.

You struggle to look at him though, or to at least maintain eye contact with him. Because Jimin is beautiful. And you’re not entirely sure how to handle this information, nor the confused feelings in your body and mind.

21 Years Old

“Hey, are you listening to me?!” Jimin calls out, laughter in his voice as he chastises you for ignoring him. Humming lightly, you focus on painting your final toenail before letting out a tiny noise of success and grinning at him.

Shifting the laptop around, you wiggle your toes while they remain in the pink toe separator, nails a pretty purple that shifts colours to green and gold depending on the light. “Aren’t they pretty?” You ask, letting the camera stay on them before Jimin lets out a gross noise.

“Ew yes, god. Please stop. Please stop showing me your feet. I do not have a foot kink. Even if you do have pretty feet.” You snort at that, letting the laptop fall back onto the bed beside you and angling it so you can see the screen again. Jimin’s sat at his desk, a snapback on his head for some reason as he works on a maths project.

He’s always wearing a damn hat when you call, but he just goes all shy and always says he hasn’t showered. Jimin likes to shower in the morning and be clean for the day, whereas you’re a night person. There’s nothing like going to bed clean.

Which means you argue with him all the time. If he’s so unwilling to show his hair because it’s dirty after his dance or gym or whatever then why not shower at night? But he’d then get defensive and point out that he never asks you to change your routine.

True, but still. His hair always looks so soft, and you want to just see what he’d look like. He makes your heart race anyway, and you have the strongest urge to reach through the screen and move the strands of hair out of his face. But you can’t, because that’s not a real power.

“So what’s up? What’s going on in the ever popular life of Park Jimin?” You ask, leaning back on your mound of pillows while wiggling your eyebrows at him. He snorts quietly, pencil scratching over pencil before he lets out a quiet hum.

“Do I look like I’m being popular right? I’m literally sat doing my homework a week early,” He points the rubber end of the pencil to himself with a sardonic smile. “Your bestie is a nerd remember?”

“A cute nerd.” He looks at you with a soft smile before going back to his work.

“Nothing much anyway. I was...thinking about maybe asking Dami out. I think she likes me, she smells like it.” You look up from your romance book at this with a raised brow. He was always using weird phrases like that.

“She smells like it? Do you mean she looks like it?” Chuckling, you shake your head and completely miss the way Jimin glances at the screen with wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah that’s what I meant. She smells nice, like oranges. It always makes me feel happy.” Your heart clenches at that, face souring slightly and you mentally chastise yourself. Jimin’s obviously happy with her, and he keeps talking about her a lot so he must like her.

“That’s good. If you like her and she likes you then ask her to be your girlfriend or something. I’m sure you can pull the moves out again. Though...if it’s anything like Jisoo then...maybe don’t.” Jimin’s whining at that, his voice doing that odd noise that you can never replicate as he scowls at the screen before pointing his pencil at it.

“You said you’d never bring that up again!” He scowls, plush bottom lip pushed out enticingly as he give you the most adorable puppy dog eyes.

“It’s not my fault you got so excited you literally peed yourself. Like...seriously bro. What the fuck?” Immediately you’re giggling again, teeth biting at your lip as you try to stop it. He’d not talked to you for a whole three days when he’d admitted he’d done that on his first ever date with Jisoo and you’d laughed so hard you’d cried.

He was a little bit sensitive about stuff like that.

“You’re so mean. Why do I put up with you?” He mutters quietly, rolling his eyes before getting back to his work. His version of giving you the cold shoulder, though he can never last long. Not talking to you is like losing a limb of his. Or so he’d said once.

Or rather, he’d said he’d rather give up jerking off for a week than not talk to you for more than two days.

Sweet, but a very bizarre way to put it.

“Because you love me and you’d be completely lost without me?” You tease lightly, poking your tongue out at him before leaning forward to check on your toenails.

It means you miss the way Jimin stares at the screen looking rather forlorn, lips twisting as he reaches out to touch the screen. “Yeah...that’s right.”

22 Years Old

“Have you been applying for any jobs yet?” Soyeon asks from the couch as you chop vegetables for the dinner you said you’d cook. Why you agreed to that, you have absolutely no idea but finals were almost over and your schedules had finally aligned.

Which meant that you were finally able to hang out instead of just passing each other like two ships in the night every morning and evening. Soyeon was in a pre-med course which meant that she was ridiculously busy whereas you were completing your final exams before you would be able to proudly graduate with a degree in history.

It wasn’t the most interesting of subjects but you’d found it palatable enough and it also offered up a lot of job options after graduation. Or it would, once you actually found the time to apply for the damn things.

As soon as college finished, you’d be moving back home with your parents before heading back one final time to attend your graduation ceremony. They were happy you were coming back, as they hadn’t been pleased when you’d said you wanted to live in Seoul in an apartment with Soyeon in your third year.

Why do you need to leave our perfectly good apartment and waste money on rent there? Is what they’d asked you frequently, and you’d rolled your eyes before spouting off something about wanting to experience financial responsibility and become independent from your parents in important life decisions.

In reality, you just wanted to have somewhere where you could party or brings guys home without having to sneak them around under the watchful eye of your parents. Not that you’d brought many home that is.

Soyeon had teased you relentlessly over the last two years about your lack of action in the romance department, and you’d tried your hardest to joke your way out of it every time. But she wasn’t stupid, and neither were you.

It was hard to invest yourself in a relationship when your heart was invested hundreds of miles away on the other side of the country.

Didn’t mean you couldn’t fulfil the needs of your body though. And you did, because you were a young and successful woman with a healthy sexual appetite.

“Not yet. I still have two exams left and I’ve been too busy studying for them and working. Need to bring in that cash some way.” You say sarcastically, raising a brow at her before scraping the vegetables into the soup broth. Letting it simmer, you head over and flop down on the couch next to her with a heavy sigh before smiling.

“You? Oh wait, never mind. Dumb question. Have you got your internship placement yet?” Soyeon gives a brief smile before running her fingers over her forehead with a deep sigh. She looks tired, and the bags under her eyes are large enough that you could probably fit a whole department store sale in them.

“Not yet. I think they’ll be telling us where we are in a month or so. But I’m just...so ready for the 12-hour shifts and all that crap.” She groans before flopping down further into the sofa, grabbing one of the pale purple pillows and smushing it over her face.

Laughing lightly, you pat her thigh before becoming distracted as your phone vibrates on the coffee table in front of you. Leaning over, you peer at the screen before grabbing it and unlocking it quickly with your thumb print.

“What’s lover boy have to say?” Soyeon asks, teasing laced into every word and when you look up to glare, she’s smirking in amusement. Pushing at her foot as it pokes your stomach, you stick your tongue out childishly.

“He’s not my lover boy. Just my best friend.” You murmur, opening up Kakaotalk and reading over his message before rolling your eyes. “And an idiot.”

Turning the screen, you let her read his latest message.

[6:24PM] Jiminnie 💖: Hey, question…

[6:25PM] Jiminnie 💖: What’s it feel like to have sex?

Soyeon squints as she reads, probably cursing herself for not wearing her reading glasses, before she’s snorting with laughter and rolling back into the couch. Looking at you, she wiggles her brows. “Tell him you’re willing to show him.”

“Shut up!”

[6:27PM] Y/N: Good. That’s why I do it

[6:27PM] Y/N: Why? Does it not feel good for you? You’re not doing it right then

[6:27PM] Y/N: If it’s burning...you might wanna see the doctor

“Do you not even find it weird that he’s asked you that?” She asks, shifting in position till she’s on her side, cheek squished into the pillow as she watches the latest episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. You’d rather wash your eyes with acid than watch this, but it’s her guilty relaxation programme so you didn’t get to dictate anything to her.

Unfortunately.

“Nope. He’s asked me weirder stuff.” You say distractedly, watching and waiting for him to respond. He’d finished his finals yesterday in Busan, so you had no doubt that he was likely partying it up with his friends before he had to move back into home too.

“You know...if I wasn’t so comfortable in our friendship...I’d feel put out that some guy hundreds of miles away in Busan is closer to you than me,” She pokes you lightly with her toe before smiling. “But it’s good. Unless he breaks your heart. Then I will put my medical knowledge to use.”

[6:32PM] Jiminnie 💖: Haha. Funny

[6:33PM] Jiminnie 💖: No, what does it FEEL like? Like...what does a penis in your vajayjay feel like?

[6:34PM] Y/N: Vajayjay? What are you? Five?

[6:34PM] Jiminnie 💖: Yeah, so answer.

[6:36PM] Y/N: Fine...it feels...like...a dick in your vagina

[6:37PM] Jiminnie 💖: Helpful. Really helpful.

[6:38PM] Y/N: Why do you wanna know?

[6:42PM] Jiminnie 💖: Talking with Taehyung and Jungkook. We wanna know what it feels like, but don’t have anyone to ask except you.

[6:43PM] Y/N: Doesn’t Taehyung have a sister?

[6:44PM] Jiminnie 💖: Omfg yes...but she’s only 19! What kinda sibling relationship do YOU have?

[6:45PM] Y/N: This is true. Okay...it’s like...feeling really full. Uncomfortable if you’re not turned on enough, but...full? And it feels good, but more so when they move. Some girls have a spot that makes it feel even better

[6:45PM] Jiminnie 💖: Do you?

[6:48PM] Y/N: Omfg Jimin. You can’t just ask girls that

[6:48PM] Jiminnie 💖: Well? Do you?

[6:52PM] Y/N: Maybe

[6:54PM] Jiminnie 💖: You so do. We find this fascinating, and yet cannot visualise it at all

[6:55PM] Y/N: So c’mon, what does it feel like for a guy?

[6:56PM] Jiminnie 💖: Well like...tight...hot...wet

You squirm on the sofa at that, thighs clenching together as you suddenly visualise Jimin whispering that into your ear with that deliciously hoarse voice while he’s going deep inside you, hands gripping your thighs.

Shivering, your fingers type on your screen while you glance at Soyeon self-consciously. Nothing like getting horny from texting your best friend while your other best friend lays opposite you. Particularly when neither is aware of what’s going on.

God, would Jimin be texting you this if he knew how you felt about him? Was it even okay to be feeling this for someone you’ve never even met in person? Who knows.

But then you suddenly realise something and look down with wide eyes.

[6:58PM] Y/N: WET? WET?! PARK JIMIN...HOW IS IT WET IF YOU’RE USING A CONDOM? ARE YOU GOING BARE? OMG

[6:59PM] Jiminnie 💖: WHAT? NO...maybe...I mean...maybe once or twice. BUT IT’S OKAY. I SWEAR!

[7:02PM] Y/N: WTF?! JIMIN! YOU’VE NEVER DATED A GIRL FOR MORE THAN 2 MONTHS.

[7:03PM] Y/N: ARE YOU TRYING TO BECOME A YOUNG DAD? OR GET AN STD??

[7:04PM] Jiminnie 💖: Y/N, I swear! It’s okay, I’m okay. Please!

[7:04PM] Jiminnie 💖: I can’t get them from the girls I dated! It’s fine

[7:06PM] Y/N: Wtf do you mean?! Did you get them checked out beforehand or something? Were they on the pill?

[7:08PM] Jiminnie 💖: No, that’s not I mean

[7:09PM] Jiminnie 💖: It just...trust me. Please. I’m okay, I’m clean. I don’t have to worry about kids. It...wasn’t an issue

[7:12PM] Y/N: Jimin...don’t be irresponsible like that.

[7:12PM] Jiminnie 💖: I’m sorry 😞 I didn’t mean to make you worry

[7:13PM] Y/N: I love you Jimin, I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret just for a moment of pleasure okay? You’re my best friend, I care about you ❤️

[7:15PM] Jiminnie 💖: Yeah...you’re my best friend too. Sorry.

Sighing heavily, you drop your phone to your side on the couch before getting up to check on the soup that’s cooking. It’s so hard to hear Jimin talk about girls and dates, all with the knowledge that you want to love him in the exact way he seems to so desperately crave.

But he’s just your best friend.

Your best friend who apparently has unprotected sex with women. It makes you heart hurt for two reasons. One, because you’re worried he’ll do something stupid and get hurt. Two, because despite you reaming him out, there’s a part of you that’s jealous of the girls he sleeps with like that.

Which is ridiculously dumb and you curse to yourself quietly, hitting your head with a spoon until you wince at the pain and rub at the area. Putting it down and staring at the soup is as it cooks, you let out a long sigh that feels like it comes from your stomach.

You may be graduating university and entering the real world, but you were still clueless on what to do with Jimin. Because he owns a rather large piece of real estate in your heart now without even realising it. Does he even realise the important thing he has in his grasp?

[7:25PM] Jiminnie 💖: I love you too. ❤️

23 Years Old

Shuffling around on the spot, you contemplate whether you look more casual resting against the large LED sign currently advertising skin lotion or if it looks like you’re trying too hard. Crossing your ankles definitely was trying too hard but you felt like you didn’t know what to do with your limbs.

It felt like you were a big bag full of ants that were currently crawling under your skin. As soon as that metaphor runs through your mind, you shake your head with a grimace before patting your cheeks lightly.

“You can do this, it’s fine. It’s just...it’s just your childhood penpal that you’ve accidentally fallen in love with over the years. No big deal.” And it really wasn’t, because you’d been wanting to meet Jimin for 15 years now.

No amount of letters which eventually turned into emails, leading further into texts and Skype calls could ever compare to seeing someone in person.

You’d done your time of loving Jimin from afar. Surely you should be allowed to do so up close right? He was perhaps the sweetest and most loyal person you’d ever met, even if you’d never met him properly.

But he was Jimin. Your Jimin. And if there was one thing you knew about him, it was that he would be so upset to know that he’d made you feel awkward or nervous. His sweet nature would mean he’d spend the rest of the day giving you those obscenely large puppy dog eyes as he tried to make you smile.

The vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you and you look down with a smile that slowly spreads into a grin as you read the message that pops up, even if there’s a thread of confusion to you.

[1:02PM] Jiminnie 💖: Turn around 😊 Please don’t be mad

Almost immediately you’re spinning around, a scream of pure excitement ready to burst out of your throat when you notice two things that make your eyes widen while you step back in shock.

Firstly, Park Jimin is far more attractive in real life than on camera or in his pictures. He’s taller than he always makes out and you’re a little surprised to find yourself peering up at him. Despite this though, he looks just as slim and lean as you’d always thought.

As if you could just pick him up and spin him around. That does nothing to disguise the toned muscles you eye through his skin tight jeans, leading you to believe that his arms and torso must be equally as buff. Well, he was always doing some form of exercise as it seemed like he had endless amounts of energy.

Jimin’s face is also a work of art, cherubic in its innocence and statuesque in its beauty. Soft, rounded cheeks are tinged a sweet dusky pink that compliments his healthy golden tan, offset by the angular lines of his jaw and his plush lips that he licks at nervously.

You’d always thought that Jimin’s eyes were so sweet and kind, filled with a love that he simply couldn’t hide and you could see that even better now up close. He truly radiated joy and happiness to see you, but there was a ridiculous amount of tension in his body.

And between you both suddenly.

Because the second thing you noticed was atop his head. In amongst the familiar ruffled strands of dark honey-blonde hair are two floppy ears, silky smooth fur a shade or so darker and providing a pleasing contrast to his natural hair colouring. The texture of the fur matches his hair, as if he’s had a shower and spent the time running his hands through it till it’s dried in soft curls and waves.

The hesitant movement of something from behind leads you to peering around him, noting a tail with fur as dark as his ears. It wags slowly yet is very close to his legs, as if he’s unsure whether to be happy or worried.

Jimin is a hybrid.

You’re not sure whether to feel shock, betrayal or excitement at this revelation. He had told you that he had something important to tell you when you met, but you’d just thought that he would was going to say he loved you. Like you were going to tell him.

Not that...that he wasn’t even the same species as you. Or was he? Hybrids were humans right? Or at least part human.

It was with a touch of shame that you realised you weren’t too up on your hybrid knowledge. They had been integrated into human society for a century now. There was no one alive who remembered the days when hybrid’s were created in labs and sold to humans to be treated as glorified servants or pets and used for whatever heinous thing their owner wanted.

No, hybrids had long become normal members of society. They owned property and businesses across the country, educated themselves at the same halls of learning that humans did, were integral members of the government and even had families with other hybrids and humans.

It had taken them fifty years to get their full legal status, and since then they had just quietly integrated. Hybrids were born from other hybrids now, no longer being bred or forcibly bred in captivity.

And while there were humans who still resented the presence of hybrids amongst them in all levels of society, the vast majority had accepted it. Or...as well as humanity could accept anything that was different to them.

Your ignorance was horrifically embarrassing now, and you wanted to go back in time to when you first started writing to Jimin and tell yourself to learn everything you could about hybrids. Because this was Jimin, and it was an intrinsic part of him that he’d obviously felt the need to hide.

Why, you didn’t know. That was something he would need to tell you. At least you now knew why he always wore beanies or hats whenever he video called you. Or why his pictures always cut off at a certain point.

In fact, many of the things he’d said over the years were suddenly starting to make sense and you felt ashamed that you’d never clicked on faster.

“Jimin?” You ask slowly, confusion threaded so deeply into the word as you let it escape your mouth. Almost as if he can tell the emotional rollercoaster you’re going on, he dips his head quickly in response.

A flash of his tongue lets you see him wet his lips while his throat works as he swallows.

“Hi. I’m sorry...about this,” He gestures vaguely to himself and you frown instantly, recognising the negative tone to his voice. Despite your shock about his secrecy about something so important, you feel the intrinsic need to step forward and comfort him. Reassure him that he’s okay.

Though you’re not sure what you’re reassuring him for exactly, so you move forward anyway and place a hand lightly on his arm. He’s got a navy blue hoodie on with a white shirt peeking out from underneath, and you admire the softness of the fabric for a moment before peering up at him and giving him a tiny smile.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure you’ve got a reasonable explanation. How about...how about we go grab a coffee and then we can find a bench or something? And...we can talk. Because...I’m really going to need an explanation here Jimin. This is not what I was expecting.” His tail had begun to wave enthusiastically at your words and from the deepening pink on his cheeks, you suspect he’s embarrassed that its doing so.

Which is silly. Even you know that dog hybrids can control their tails to a degree but that extreme emotions override any control they may have.

“Sorry.” Gently pushing at his arm and giving him a reassuring smile, you lead him towards a chain coffee shop before tutting at him.

“Please stop apologising Jimin. Please? You know me. You know I’m not going to judge you, I’m just...shocked. I wasn’t expecting this because...well you’ve never made any mention of it before.” You’re positive that he can practically smell the surprise on you at this point, but he just chews at his lip nervously while you enter the coffee shop.

Neither of you get chance to talk after that until after you’ve both grabbed your drinks in to-go cups, a caramel frappuccino for you and a gingerbread cappuccino for him. Why they were selling gingerbread stuff in September, you had no idea.

Either way, the two of you awkwardly head back outside to find somewhere that was a little more private to have what you suspected was going to be one of the most important discussions in your entire friendship with Jimin. And you’d discussed boys with him and sex, so this was big.

After a few minutes of searching around, the two of you settle onto a wooden bench in the middle of the leafy park in silence. It’s pretty here, and you can see the small pond just past the trees on the other side of the path, a few ducks quacking along with two swans gliding along the surface elegantly.

There’s a couple of families sat around the edge, some feeding the ducks pieces of bread despite the warning signs while others enjoy homemade picnics on cute blankets. It’s all so domestic that you can’t help but let out a deep sigh and you relax back, inhaling the delightful scent of nature.

“I’m a King Charles Cocker Spaniel hybrid. Pure. My family can trace our origins back to the very first lab hybrids in our lineage two hundred and sixty years ago. I’m proud of being a hybrid...I want you to know that firstly,” He looks at you seriously, his mahogany eyes filled with a surprising amount of fierceness and you nod slowly. “I just...I’d never had a friend who didn’t know what I was. And despite what humans say and think, there’s still some discrimination there. I just...I don’t know, wanted to talk to you without being asked dumb questions about myself.”

Playing with the cardboard wrap around your cup, you let out a sigh of frustration. “Jimin...why didn’t you just tell me? Surely over 15 years you knew that I wasn’t going to be mad or push you away? I mean...okay I’m a little mad now because you didn’t tell me for that long. But...did I give the impression that I’d react negatively to you or something?”

His ears droop a little at that and you watch in fascination. Jimin’s entire demeanour is timid and filled with trepidation, his slight shoulders hunched in while his tail curls around himself almost protectively.

“N-no...but...when you’ve lied consistently for years then it’s hard to tell the truth. I’m really sorry, I feel so ashamed of myself. Especially when you’d look so happy to see me and I’d be lying saying I was cold in the middle of summer or something. I’m so sorry. I never lied about anything else. This was the only thing.” He shifts in his seat and you can see the desperate need in his eyes to make you see that was being serious.

Sighing quietly, you reach out and place a hand on his thigh. The movement feels oddly natural to say you’ve never met in person, and yet it feels new at the same time. Fizzing excitement in your stomach kind of new.

For a moment, you get distracted at the feel of his firm muscles under the denim fabric, tensing up at your touch while your fingers idly trace unintelligible symbols there. You’re finally doing what you’d dreamt of, hoped of for so long and you can’t help the tiny smile that appears as you do so.

“Jimin...it’s a shock, yes. But only because you lied. The Jimin I know doesn’t lie. Or I guess he does?” There’s a touch of insecurity to your voice suddenly as your mind races through all your interactions with him over the years, wondering if perhaps he’d lied about other things despite what he said.

Immediately though Jimin is placing his cup on the bench before grabbing your hands and tugging them to his chest with a horror-stricken face, head shaking so hard it’s making his hair and ears fly endearingly.

“No, no. I never lied about anything else! This was it! The only thing. It’s not even that important. I have ears and a tail, I have better sense of smell and hearing along with a few traits that still linger but...that’s it. I’m still Jimin. I still love mint ice cream and action films and comic books. I still went to college and studied math, just like I said. I have a job here in Seoul as a maths teacher. I swear, I haven’t lied about anything else. I’m not expecting you to accept this instantly, but please. Please don’t leave me.”

You look him over carefully, noting the sheen of tears in his eyes as he pleads with you to understand him and accept him. His origin wasn’t really that important, not when you’d gotten to know him so well over the years. But still…

“It hurts Jimin. I’m not gonna lie. You lied about something so...fundamental about you. It’s not like you’ve lied all these years about green being your favourite colour instead of yellow. This is who you are. And I don’t know what to think right now. Are you ashamed of yourself?”

He shakes his head vehemently at that, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your hand gently as he focuses on them. “No. I have no reason to be. I have good friends back home and some who moved here too. I have a family who loves me, and being hybrid has never really been brought up. I just...I was a dumb kid who made a stupid decision that I didn’t know how to escape.”

“Jimin...you should have just told me. I wouldn’t have minded. I don’t mind now really. Your ears and tail are adorable, and a lot of the things you’ve said over the years make sense suddenly. I’m just...hurt that you never felt the need to tell me if you’re proud of yourself.” His head dips low at that, lips pouting cutely.

“Because I loved writing to you at first, and pretending to be something I’m not. But then I just loved writing to you. It relaxed me and you knew everything about me, even the stuff my friends and family didn’t. Everything except one of my most defining traits. But I didn’t want to ruin anything because I couldn’t handle the idea that you’d just...ghost me. Because by then I loved talking to you, but I also loved you too.” His confession is everything you’d been hoping for before you’d turned around, only with the addition of a sad apology.

Looking closely at his face, you take in the attractive sight up close in person for once instead of through a pixelated or lagging screen. His eyes are so large and expressive as they watch you carefully with nerves, but you know that when he smiles hard or laughs so intensely he folds over that those pretty eyes almost vanish in happiness.

It’s as you look closely into them, that you realise he’s still your Jimin. Still the Jimin who had terrible spelling when he was only 8 years old and didn’t really know how to articulate himself. Still the Jimin who excitedly wrote to you at 14 to tell you about his first kiss then obviously got embarrassed halfway through. He was still the man who’s voice had gone soft and shy the first time you ever called each other and who’s cheeks had turned a cherry red upon your first video call.

He was your Jimin. Just not with a whole new aspect that you got to explore.

“You love me?” Is all you ask, because it’s all you really care about right now. Jimin can never change what he is, but his feelings can change if you hurt him too much.

He’s quiet for a moment before slowly nodding, that nut-brown hair falling into his eyes as he does so. “I didn’t move all the way to Seoul because they needed maths teachers. I did it because you’re here. And...I wanted to be something more than just your best friend.”

Smiling brightly, you give in to your instinct and reach up to brush it out of his eyes, marvelling at how fluffy the strands feel. Your eyes flick up to his ears, the fur shining healthily and you get the urge to stroke them too. But even you know that no one touches a hybrids animal aspects without permission. They’re often highly personal or sensitive areas and will react badly normally.

But despite never meeting each other before, Jimin knows you perhaps better than you know yourself. And he must read your curiosity on your face as he tilts his head slightly till your fingers butt the base of one; a silent permission for you to touch them.

Hesitantly, you run one finger along the impossibly velvet soft fur on one ear. Without even realising, you’re smiling brightly at how nice it feels. Turning your hand over, you let the backs of your fingers stroke along each ear slowly and simply admire how soft they are.

It’s only then that you notice the way Jimin is leaning closer to you with each stroke, eyes closed and a dopey smile on his face as you do so. You like your hair being stroked and find the feeling therapeutic, so you can only imagine how this feels for Jimin.

Smiling to yourself, you lean forward before you press a sweet kiss to the apple of his cheeks. Almost immediately he jerks away, eyes wide with shock while a hand presses to said cheek as he looks you over.

Moving your hands, you let one rest lightly on his thigh before the other moves to his slim waist as you give him a grin filled with mischief and a tiny bit of nerves. “Your ears are very soft. I hope you’d be okay with me stroking them more.”

Jimin’s lip open and close repeatedly for a moment, the dog hybrid doing a marvellous impression of a fish before he points at himself. “Me? You...you’re okay with me? And what I said?”

Nodding, you shuffle closer to him until you gingerly lean against him, head on his shoulder and take in his clean scent. “Yes. I mean...we’re going to have work on this whole lying to me for fifteen years thing but...yeah. You’re still my Jiminnie. And I still love you just as much as I did before. But no lying to me from now on. I mean it. I won’t forgive it a second time.”

He’s silent then, the atmosphere full of shock and shy nerves between you both. Leaning your head further into his shoulder, you inhale deeply and just take him in for the first time. There’s no overwhelming scent of cologne, but you expect he likely wouldn’t like using most because of his sensitive nose. Most hybrids have to have specially made colognes and perfumes.

Almost immediately your eyes widen as you gasp in shock. “Jimin! You let me send you cologne all the damn time for presents! You couldn’t even use it!”

His shoulder moves rapidly underneath your cheek as he laughs quietly, shaking his head before he shifts till you’re looking up at him. “I appreciated the thought. Asking for hybrid cologne would have given me away. And it got put to use! My friends, Jungkook and Namjoon, are human so they used them. I loved every one you sent though, and even if they were too strong for me...I liked them.”

“Park Jimin! You...you need to tell me what you like. So I can buy you that.” Your lip sticks out almost petulantly as you look up at him, feeling oddly childish with the excitement of what was obviously a relationship between you and the man you’ve loved for years. Neither of you feel the need to ask explicitly, because you just know.

He watches you for a moment with amusement, his tail thumping against the bench and betraying his own happiness as his eyes crease into those familiar shapes that you love and adore so much. A tiny giggle leaves his mouth, high pitched enough to make him squeak before he leans forward and presses the softest kiss to your lips.

It’s nothing major, and yet your first proper kiss with him takes your breath away all the same. Because it’s everything you’ve imagined for years. And yet nothing like what you’ve imagined, because it’s so much more than you could’ve hoped for.

Sighing into him, you lean forward and increase the pressure on his lips until he lets out a tiny gasp of a moan against you, breath puffing against your skin as he pulls away. Leaning his forehead against yours, the two of you simply take in the moment before looking at each other with shy exhilaration rushing through your veins.

“I like you,” He whispers, so close you can feel each word brush your lips and your own spread into a sweet smile. “No, I love you. So...you’re enough for me.”

Watching him so closely, you note how his mahogany eyes have a touch of whiskey amber in the centre, spreading out slowly in a burst of colour. Bringing up a finger, you trace over the impossibly soft skin of his lower lip before you kiss him once more with a tiny giggle.

“I love you too Jiminnie. At least you didn’t pee yourself.”

“Really? Maybe I take it back.”

“No! Don’t. Please. It was sweet.”

“Shut up and just kiss me. Please.”

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #btssunshinenet #kkreationsnet #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #hybrid jimin #hybrid au #hybrid fic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin one shot #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #bts one shot #bts fic #bts fanfic

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redrobin-detective · 5 years ago

Text

Ugly Pictures are worth a Thousand Words

“Children, come here, it’s time for our family photo,” Professor Membrane said, his voice resounding through the house. “I promised your grandparents I’d show off my new green son.”

“We don’t have grandparents,” Gaz said, not looking up from her game but she did have a nice bow in her hair for the occasion.

“And I realized that you children were suffering for it so I got you some new grandparents, related in some way to your brother Junior,” Membrane said with a deep laugh. Gaz hummed and continued with her game. “Boy Child! Green Child! Your presence is being requested! And by requested I mean d̶̥e͢m̬̦̣͉̘͓a̫̤n͎̣͖͠ͅd̗̩͓̪̟̗͡e̛͖̠͔d̹͝ͅ ͕̯͕̗̀”

“Daaaaaaaaad,” Dib screamed, running down the stairs with his arms behind him like some sort of anime ninja. “I am telling you that Zim is an alien, I mean look he’s not even pretending any more.” He screeched, pointing over at Zim who wandered into the living room with his beady red eyes and absentmindedly scratching at one of his antennae while he slurped down a soda. “You have to see he’s an alien now.”

“Dib,” Membrane said in a way that was both gentle and chastising. “We’ve talked about this, just because someone looks different than us doesn’t mean we can call them aliens. I’m sure your brother came into this country perfectly legally.”

“Oh I did, surely, yes, so many magnificent forms,” Zim nodded before turning to Dib with a smug expression. “I decided that I shouldn’t have to hide myself from my BELOVED FAMILY so I did away with my contacts and wig while at home. Now I am free to just be my glorious, handsome self,” Zim explained, draping one arm over Gaz’s shoulder. She hissed and Zim yelped and recoiled back sharply.

“See? Nothing supernatural about it, I’m so happy you’re feeling more comfortable in your green skin, Junior,” Membrane said, patting Zim’s head. The alien preened.

“It’s Zim by the way, Ziiiiiiiiiiiiim,” the alien explained far more gently than he did with any other humans but no other humans petted him so fondly like Father Membrane did.

“I’m sorry son, your foreign name is too difficult for me to say and besides, Junior fits you best since you’re clearly blessed with my supreme intelligence,” Membrane explained, gathering the three children in front of him.

“It’s three letters, the same as these other filthy worm babies,” Zim continued but was ignored as Membrane hummed while straightening out Gaz’s bow and lifted Dib onto one of his shoulders. “Hey! Why does the Dib Brother get the honor of ascending to your lordly height?”

“Because your poor insane brother was hyperventilating and I thought maybe the improved air quality would do him good but fear not, Junior for I have two shoulders!” The professor said leaning down to pick up Zim placing him on the opposite shoulder.

“Dad! Don’t let him up here! He’s probably going to put alien mind warping parasites in your brain!” Dib hissed, leaning over his father’s shoulders to glare at his adopted brother.

“I would never disgrace my Lord Membrane Father by something so base as ear worms! He is worthy of at least some sort of hypnotic brain fungus,” Zim sneered back, batting away Dob’s hands.

“Boys, boys,” Membrane sighed, pulling them back and straightening them out on his shoulder. “We can all have fun debating Horrible Mind Control Methods once we take this picture. I know it’s difficult for siblings to get along, especially siblings with such different backgrounds but, as your father, I’d appreciate it if you two would cooperate just long enough to take a nice picture for your recently acquired grandparents.” Both Zim and Dib grumbled a bit in shame and turned away from the other.

“Zim will honor your request Tallest Father Sir”

“Yeah, yeah just take the stupid picture already”

“Marvelous, CameraBot900! Prepare to capture forever on film this darling picture of me and my three beautiful children. The world must see how perfect and beautiful they are, even if they are green or insane.” The floating camera was making funny faces to provoke smiles from the three children, none of whom actually smiled. “Hmm, perhaps we should get that strange green dog in the photo as well...”

GIR squealed as he raced down the chimney and opened his mouth to swallow the CameraBot. The poor machine wailed as it was swallowed whole and then became mercifully silent. The little robot let out a little burp. “That tasted like bananas.”

“Oh NO,” Membrane shouted, falling dramatically to his knees almost causing the two kids on his shoulder to topple off. “Now how will we have our special family photo? HOW??”

“It’s okay, I found this camera I was using to take pictures of my butt,” Gir said holding up a very worn and dented camera.

“Hey that’s MY camera, I’ve been using it to catalog all Zim’s alien activity!” Dib yelled while Zim nodded and chuckled under his breath.

“You have saved the day, chartreuse canine,” Membrane shouted, jumping back to his feet. “Please set the camera up and join us in this marvelous family photograph.”

“WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” GIR giggled pushing various buttons on the camera before running over and jumping into Gaz’s arms. The motion caused her to drop her game devious as she now had an armful of robot dog. Dib was shouting at Zim about controlling his alien menace and Zim was shouting back about how he wasn’t being sensitive to all of GIR’s needs. The camera clicked several times as the whole scene descended into chaos. Gaz was soon off chasing GIR who was running rampant through the house and the boys were out the front door, soon wrestling dramatically on the front yard.

Membrane sighed and went over to look at the photos. None were what you would call refined or even halfway decent. But he had discovered long ago that families, like science, are messy and oftentimes ugly. But just because something is ugly on the outside doesn’t mean it doesn’t still bring joy to those closest to the situation. He paused on one particular shot that was full of craziness and emotion and nonsense, in other words, it perfectly encapsulated his family.

“I believe this is the photograph that I will send to grandparents Red and Purple and an extra copy will adorn my desk,” he muttered proudly. Outside, Zim was shrieking in agony as Dib brought out the hose and Gaz was sitting on top of a squirming GIR as she resumed her game. Truly all was right in the world if the whole family could get together and take horrible, ugly photos.

#indaver zim #im back on my bullshit after one day #what do I call this? how about #Zim Membrane AU #sort of hinted but the grandparents are the Almighty Tallest #Membrane overheard Zim talking to them one night and assumed they were some sort of relative #all he has to do is reverse the signal of Zim's call to send them things #soon the Tallest will be innundated with adorable shots of the Membrane family in action #Zim Dib and Gaz all lined up in identical sailor suits #the kids at the water park while Zim is screeching like a howler monkey avoiding the water #Zim and Dib wrestling while Gaz watches with popcron #(a really sweet one of the three of them all cuddled asleep across Membranes lap with him doing a selfie)#the Tallest are baffled #they write back and ask for more pics #only to make fun of Zim and not because he looks inexplicably adorable in the cute outfits #Dad Membrane is happy to oblige

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fictionalboysarejustbetter · 5 years ago

Text

Friendships from Afar

Distance creates a barrier of trust. There are no worries. There is always a safety net to fall back on that protects from hurt or pain. Beginning in second grade, my personal goal had always been to find a singular, perfect friend who lives far away. We could talk openly with each other, and I would have the ability to be myself. The plan is that years later, I would meet this person in the weirdest of circumstances, and we would be best friends forever. It’s even better if this friend is a guy, so then we can both fall in love and get married to live happily ever after.

In second grade, the entire class received school pen pals, and while my fourth-grade pen pal was not ideal, I knew I loved this “secret” letter writing system where I am just Rebecca, nothing more or less. Moving into fifth grade, Mrs. Smith found me a pen pal from China. Through our teachers, we would send each other letters back and forth until the school year was over. From this moment onward, I was hooked; pen pals didn’t care what I looked like or how shy I was or how involved my mother was with the school, I could just be me, and they only knew the information I told them. Without asking for help, I scavenged through the internet, trying to collect pen pals as if they were Webkinz. I was convinced this perfect friend could only be found on pen pal websites that look like they were made by my fellow fifth graders.

Starting in sixth grade, I would spend night after night stalking the profiles of random teenagers on Students of the World, a supposedly “safe” pen pal website for kids. Gender? Who cares. Age? About 10-16. Likes? Reading, of course. Language? English please. I would then press search and sift through hundreds of profiles, finding the perfect candidates to be my best friend. This process was extremely predictable, including:

The teenage boys “looking” for a relationship:

Nathaniel, Age 14, UK

HOBBIES:

Photo

Trips

Cinema, Television

Sports

Reading

Painting, Drawing, Art

Hi! Are you looking for a cool guy to write to? Send me a nice message otherwise you’ll miss something priceless.

I can speak:

English, French

The liars that claimed they like everything and speak every language:

Janhvi, Age 16, USA

HOBBIES:

Photo

Trips

Clothes

Cinema, Television

Sports

Sciences

Music

Reading

Animals, Nature

Cooking

Collections

Painting, Drawing, Art

Hello !!👩I'm Janhvi .I like to travel.I have traveled in to many countries .Such as india , sri lanka, china, france and more.I like make new friends.message me soon guys.👭👫OUR LIFE IS CHANGE , BUT FRIENDSHIP NEVER BE CHANGE.

I can speak:

English French German Italian Spanish Arabic Chinese Japanese Korean

The students making a profile for class:

Chaya, Age 13, USA

HOBBIES:

Clothes

Cinema, Television

Music

Reading

Animals, Nature

I am looking for a penpal for our school project. I would like to find some in Atlanta, Georgia.

I can speak:

English

I would scroll through these profiles so constantly that I rarely found new profiles. I was judging every profile based off of the person’s name, biography, age, likes, languages, everything. Most people without a profile picture wouldn’t receive an email from me. I tried to avoid messaging anyone from the United States unless they sounded like a major fangirl or fanboy over the books I liked. I automatically favored anyone from Europe, especially if they had an interesting name. But regardless if anyone from anywhere sent me a message first, I would respond back at least once.

Shortly after the search began, I received a message from a girl named Julia from Australia. She and I were the same age, we both needed a friend, and we both liked reading, animals, music, and clothes. Quickly, my life began to revolve around the fourteen hours that always stood between Australia and the United States. Throughout sixth and seventh grade, we would be constantly messaging on the messaging app “kik,” confiding everything deep and useless to each other like best friends do:

Becca says:

Hey, how are you?

Julia says:

Everyones well... Mum and dad start the long drive to melbourne this weekend so everythings kinda topsy turvy :p

How is your family and pets? Im sorry for my rudeness that i didnt ask earlier

Nearlytime for school?

Becca says:

Lol that is fine! I get to school around 8, so normally ill drop off right before, lol i try to remember to tell you but i tend to forget. Theyre good though. Willie and Apricot are happy my grandma left :-P mom and dad are helping me with my ancestry project and exploding of happiness because I got a position in that volleyball club and my sister has been working and spending money :-P her favorite thing to do

Julia says:

Ahh the christmas spirit... Lol is there anyone in the house who loves your grandmother?

Becca says:

Lol we love her because shes family, but no one loves her when shes here if you know what i mean.

What’s up?

For two years, the conversations would continue for hours, as we both wait anxiously for the “ding” on our tablets, indicating a new message. Julia’s father was a firefighter who fought the nasty bushfires that haunted their country. I interviewed him as my hero for my final paper and presentation in my eighth grade English class. I interviewed him through email after our initial plans to Skype were sidetracked by the active wildfires, and I so proudly presented the information about him that you would have thought he was my father.

One day, Julia told me about her divorced parents. Then, she told me about the twins her mom just gave birth to. Then, she explained that she actually has a twin brother and no younger siblings at all. Then, she became an aunt to twin nephews. Then, her house burned down, and she had to move across the country. Then, her parents just moved across town. The stories continued and continued only within months of each other, not adding up in any way, shape, or form. With hope still in my heart, I sent her all three books of The Hunger Games trilogy since she really wanted to read them, but two months later, the books came back in the mail as undeliverable. The address did not exist.

Unable to admit defeat or accept the idea that my best friend might not be real despite all of the evidence, I started to panic. What if she is catfishing me? I’ve seen that show before, and I even gave “her” my address. Whoever this person is could easily come to my house and kidnap me...maybe I should tell my mom and warn the police. But maybe, she just has a really hard life, and she compulsively lies to make herself feel better? Maybe, she just really wants attention, and that’s why none of her stories are adding up. Besides it could still be her, she may just be scared. She could have just lied and is younger than she said and is trying to sound cool to impress me.

With these panicked thoughts raging through my body like wildfire, I blocked her from kik and began to ignore her emails. I forced myself to just disappear, so then I would have nothing to worry about. I cannot trust that Julia is really Julia, so I will just watch “her” occasional emails come in, analyzing from afar who “she” may be. I’ll search for her on Google and Facebook and Instagram and Students of the World and anywhere else I can look. The emails would keep coming for years and years, but they never held much content to them, and I’m still left to question who “Julia” is.

My Julia investigation was stalled for now, and the void of not having a constant penpal to talk to quickly came back. Therefore, my search to find the perfect best friend needed to be expedited since Julia was certainly not cut out for the position. I continued to search Students of the World with my new smartphone every chance I had. In between games at volleyball competitions, Hope and I could be found by the nearest outlet on my phone, scouring the website for the perfect answers within someone’s profile. We would send out messages together to the nerdy fangirls and fanboys around our age. Every day during the bus ride home from school, Jenna and I looked through the website on our phones, judging everyone’s biographies and pictures. Jenna created a profile too, and we would have three-way Skype sessions with Sylvia from France until the two of them became too close and stopped inviting me to Skype with them.

Finally in April of ninth grade, I received a promising email from a 16-year-old boy from France:

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

My name is Kristopher and Im from France !

I watched a few days ago Divergent and it made me want to read the books !

I see you like tv shows and video games as I do !

I am not fluent in English but I can talk to you !

If you want I can learn you French ! :)

Typically, I would spend about twenty minutes every day responding to emails from random penpals on my way home from school, but within the first three or so emails to a person, one of us would just stop responding. In regard to Kris, I generally liked video games, but I wasn’t obsessed with them, and I had a weird taste in TV, so we probably couldn’t talk about that much. But Divergent by Veronica Roth was my all-time favorite book. As soon as I read that word in the email, I knew I would be responding until he stopped responding to me. It had always been my goal to fall in love with a fanboy, especially one with the same taste in books and movies as me, so I immediately responded with:

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Hi Kristopher!

What part of France are you from? I live near Pittsburgh, PA, USA.

Yes, definitely read the books! They are amazing! I find myself gravitating towards video games and shows more than sports! :P

I don't know much of French as I take Spanish in school, but I'd love to learn some and help you with English as well!

Rebecca

He emailed me back within minutes, and we emailed for most of the evening, talking about books and food and the differences between the United States and France. That night though, my phone battery had died, and it was only for a few hours. After plugging it in, I found five unread messages from him, making sure I was okay.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Lol it works ! :) Good courage to go back to school ! :)

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Hey sweetie 😆

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

How are you Miss ?

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Do You use words like ain't or gonna ? 😆

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Are you OK ?

As soon as I read these messages, my heart fluttered a little. This was just the beginning of our constant messaging and talking. I happily responded to him, and within days, Kris was my perfect, new best friend. The random space he left between the last word and the punctuation of a sentence would drive me insane, but I didn’t have the heart to explain the process to him. We talked so consistently that it would probably be considered unhealthy, discussing pets, family, being the youngest child, aspirations, atheism, languages, food, books, video games, and everything else under the sun. I was stuck to my phone all day, and every time I picked it up, I waited in anticipation for a notification with his name and the random spaces between his words and the punctuation.

The six-hour time difference between the two of us meant nothing, with him staying up late and me getting up early. Between classes, we would sneak each other messages about how our days were going. My week-long field trip to San Antonio, Texas was spent either messaging him or scouting out an outlet to plug my phone into so that I could talk to him. The more access I had to Kris, the further I distanced myself from my friends and family. When my phone would die or I wouldn’t have reception, I would look around, annoyed by whoever the people around me were. Kris was the perfect friend I always wanted; he was my best friend, and I was his. Neither of us needed anyone else, and hopefully, all of our talking and flirting would lead to love which would lead to marriage.

The summer before tenth grade came, and Kris seemed to be growing distant. Supposedly, he was travelling all summer, and he would rarely have access to wifi. I counted down the days until he would be back home, and after one measly conversation, he disappeared again. I sent message after message, finally receiving a response about his brother pushing him in the pool and his phone being in his pocket at the time, so it was destroyed. The summer seemed to be surrounded by disappointment, but hopefully when we went back to school, our relationship would continue to be as strong as it was before.

Tenth grade began, and Kris was still busy all the time. Apparently if he kept up his hard work, he would be valedictorian. Since I couldn’t spend lunch chatting with him anymore, I bragged that I was basically dating this amazing French guy who is valedictorian at his school. Until October hit, and then I would receive the dreadful message that he has a girlfriend. Ironically, this only made our conversation stronger than it had ever been, and he even picked out my new haircut, sending me endless compliments on it. The next day, he sent another message, explaining that his girlfriend didn’t want us talking anymore so it would probably be best if we just stopped. I was bad at listening to these directions, following this conversation up with many, many new messages in attempts to strike a conversation with him again. These messages earned me a nice block from Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.

My only method of contact would now be email, so night after night instead of stalking Students of the World for new pen pals, I would send Kris emails. I now began to understand that feeling that I caused upon Julia, who may or may not have been Julia. Throughout October and November, I received a few responses that sounded like an automatic email reply, but one email in mid-November stood out, as it was one of the last ones I would receive from him.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Hello Becca,

I did act stupid and didn’t answer your messages at all. When I emailed you first, I never thought our friendship would get that strong !

Guess what, there used to be a time I was really in love with you, but I haven’t dared say so … The one biggest reason was the 6000 km that stand between us ! You were the one I loved talking to ! So I talked to you and you never waited to answer and neither did I.

I don’t know, something went wrong, time changed, I’m sorry I haven’t answered you for long, this is all my bad. I wish I could go back to past to fix this.

This message will never ever be able to patch things up, but it (I hope ) will tell you that I never forgot you .

My mother would tell me time and time again that any type of relationship separated by physical distance would never work. I had never believed her, but after receiving this email, I understood. Why had I ever believed that the perfect friendship would be through time differences of at least five hours? These relationships do not automatically create a barrier of trust, often making it even harder to trust. There are always going to be worries about who that person is and what their intentions are. There is no safety net to keep you from being hurt or feeling pain. Once there is a roadblock within your barrier of communication, you cannot simply get it back after running into each other at Walmart or flashing them a fake smile as you pass them in the hallway at school. As soon as one person blocks the other or the number of unread emails increases substantially over months, that person is gone forever.

#penpals #love #lost love #memoir #longdistance #oops I fell in love with my penpal #those French boys

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platinumsupa · 6 years ago

Note

Diakko highschool AU maybe?

(but isn’t it already a…?

in any case! Here’s a diakko high school au! Diana may be the popular girl at school, but unfortunately for her, she’s ended up head over heels for a certain someone at the exact opposite end of the bell curve…

1700 words, so it’s a bit long, but that’s because I was having fun with it, sorry~ ^ ^;)

Diana was what people would call the popular girl.

Student Council president, top of the class, head of theDance Squad, and she was perhaps the prettiest in school to boot, or so that’s whatpeople told her. Boys who were unaware of things often tried to ask her out, orat the very least sit with her and hope she looked their way. Every time shewould respectfully decline, which seemed to just add to her reputation as an unattainable beauty.

Akko was a new transfer student here at school. She was continuously almostbeing kicked out of the lacrosse team because she couldn’t keep her grades up,and when she wasn’t getting into very loud, fiery conversations with herteammates, she was usually getting into trouble with teachers. Last week, Diana watched ahalf-asleep Akko walk face first into a doorframe.

And Diana had noidea how to talk to this girl without feeling like a complete moron, because god, she had it bad.

How did she let it get this out of control? She really couldn’t say.

The first time Diana saw Akko, she was walking home with fellowclub members Hannah and Barbara, and they all stopped when they saw a short Asiangirl up in a tree, tangled in tree branches. And they watched, slack jawed, asthe branch broke from under her and she came tumbling down hard to the grass.

In her arms was a small black cat. In a show of gratitude toits rescuer, it clawed at Akko’s hands and took off running back home. Akkotook a moment to suck on her bleeding pinky before she finally noticed the threeof them looking down at her on the ground.

“Hi there!” She said, still on the ground. “I’m Kagari Atsuko, but everyone just callsme Akko. What’s up?”

Hannah and Barbara laughed at her, and Akko grumbled, simplystanding up and rubbing the dirt off her sleeves, watching the cat’s rapidly retreatingtail.

Diana’s heart started pounding, for some reason.

Some time later, Akko had talked back to Finnelan and landedherself an after school detention. Diana had found her alone in the classroom,not cleaning like she was supposed to. She took no notice of Diana there, becauseAkko was too singing along to an anime theme song playing through herheadphones and dancing with her mop like it was a microphone.

Diana spent all night thinking about it.

And then soon after, Diana absently looked over in Mathclass, and spent a good five minutes staring as Akko glued plastic gemstonesto her lacrosse stick in the shape of the Big Dipper. By that point, through nochoice of her own, Diana was definitelyvery interested.

Because Akko had a very cute face, not to mention such a passion in her voice, and a swagger inher step, and one would think a student in the running for some of the most prestigiousscholarships in the country wouldn’t be so stupidly useless, but here Diana was,her standards dropping like an elevator with its cables cut.

She spent a good portion of Mrs. Lukić’s science classtrying to keep her attention on the slides, and not the opposite table whereAkko was doodling in her notebook. To the point where she almost didn’t evenhear Mrs. Lukić’s announcement.

“Why don’t you all get with a partner and work through someof the problems on the board?”

Most students simply immediately went with the same friendsthey always did. Frank looked in Diana’s direction hopefully, as did Hannah andBarbara who sought to make a group of three, but Diana only had eyes for oneperson.

“So.” Diana said, standing over table. “You don’t appear tohave a partner at the moment. Allow me to help you.”

“Partner?” Akko looked up from her notebook and cocked herhead. “Wait, we’re doing group stuff?”

“You should really pay better attention. It would be problematicif you failed, especially in regard to your games, would it not?”

Akko huffed. “I don’t need you to tell me that. I can keepmy grades up just fine on my own!”

“I was not saying you couldn’t. But in any case, the teacherintends for us to work in pairs for this assignment, so…”

Akko shoved her things to the side of the table to give Dianaa place to set her own notebook down, and the blonde gracefully took her seat.She looked calm and serene, which was surprising given the frantic thoughts runningthrough her head.

It didn’t surprise either of them how begrudgingly Akko wentthrough the questions, with Diana mostly just trying to convince her of the valueof hard work as an extant concept. In about five minutes, the most they hadmanaged to accomplish was putting both their names down on top of the paper.

“I just don’t get why teachers like to cram us with allthese little assignments…” Akko said, twirling her pencil around. “I mean, sheprobably won’t even check this at the end, so it’s a little pointless, isn’tit?”

“They’re not pointless.It’s important to have practice with these concepts if you’re going to understandthem for the exams.”

“Yeah, but her instructions make no sense anyway. What even is this stupid equation she wants us todo? Like it’s all these weird G’s and x’s…how do you keep these straight?”

Diana glanced down at Akko’s notebook. Interspersed throughall the cutesy doodles, Akko had made an attemptto copy down the equations Lukić wrote on the board. Though not all of them, andwith one of the most crucial ones, she had simply stopped halfway through.

“Take this one for example, Akko.” She gestured to it. “It’sover r squared, not just over r.”

“What? But she said…”

“Here, if think of it more like this, it should make iteasier to follow.”

What happened next was mostly Diana’s fault. She neverreally did group projects, so shewasn’t even thinking when she started writing in her notebook in front of herwithout moving it. She actually had caught herself and was about to tilt thepage so Akko could actually see what she was doing, but Akko had already leanedover, unintentionally pressing their shoulders together.

(Diana’s heart was pounding again. Mother would be ashamedif she knew how weak her baby girl had become…)

“Oohhh! Is that how you’re supposed to do it?” Akko asked, eithernot noticing or not caring that she was all but leaning atop of the other girl.“That’s not how they taught it at my last school. Weird.”

“It…” Diana nodded. “I suppose I can imagine some of the…erm,letters and such and such might change depending on the…the language. That’s whyit’s important to practice, after all.”

“Yeah, but you did a better job explaining it than Mrs. Lukićdid. I guess I’ll have to remember this way for later then. Thanks.”

Akko took her notebook for a moment so she could copy downthe explanation into her own notes, and she quickly flashed Diana a gratefulsmile as she settled back into her own seat.

(oh god, her hair smelled really nice.)

“Think nothing of it,” is what Diana said at last. “…So.Aside from this, how have you been…adjusting to the new school?”

Akko simply shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess. I miss my oldfriends, but I met a lot of nice people here already, so it’s not so bad. Yourguys’ lacrosse team is a lot better than my old one at least!”

“You enjoy lacrosse then?” And what a shockingly goodquestion to ask her that was, because obviously she carried the stick aroundjust for fun.

But thankfully, Akko leapt at the chance to talk. “It’s the greatestsport there is! We’re totally gonna be going to nationals soon, I’m sure of it!I’m gonna be the best player on the entire team before the end of the year.”

“That’s…a lofty goal. But it’s good to set your sights high.After all, you don’t get the things you dream of, you get the things you workfor.”

Akko gasped excitedly at the lyric. “Oh my gosh, do you listento Chariot’s albums too?!”

“I’ve…overheard a song or two, yes. I just thought it seemedrelevant to the conversation.”

Akko laughed out loud. “You know, you’re a nicer person thanI thought, Diana! We should do more group stuff together some time!”

“Oh, that would be nice. I’d really like to spend more timegetting to know you better.”

“Really…?” Akko looked at her curiously.

Diana clamped her mouth shut. The calm expression she tried to take was betrayed by the visiblyhot blush spreading across her features.

No, she couldn’t lose her calm here. Friends could want toget to know each other better too, after all. Right? And every second she sather staring silently at Akko made her look more guilty. All she needed to dowas calmly explain what she meant in that context.

“I-”

“5 more minutes!” Lukić called out. “I expect you all to haveeverything answered…”

Akko quickly snapped back to her. “Oh shoot, we gotta finishour assignment, right?”

“Right. Right, the assignment.”

Diana picked up her pencil and set to work, and after a moment,Akko tossed Diana’s notebook back with the rest of Diana’s stuff, and set to helpingher finish.

Fortunately, they managed to finish all the questions intime.

After the assignments were collected, everyone returned totheir seats. And as for Diana, she spent much of the remainder of class stewingin her own gay frustration. She must have run through the entire conversationin her head 5 times a minute, picking apart every stupid thing she said. Shewas supposed to be good at speech,how did she do so bad at talking to one person? Akko must think she’s an idiotnow.

Lukić told them to remember to bring their textbooks fornext class, and Diana moved to write it in her notebook. But she paused, lookingat the top margin.

That note written there…that definitely was not her handwriting.She looked at the note more closely. It read;

‘got a game Friday at4pm!! you should come cheer me on! :3

Akko ♪’

Diana could not stop the grin from taking over her face. Hannahand Barbara would never understand the intensity in which she stared at thescribble at the top of the page.

She spent the rest the night trying to lay the perfectoutfit out for Friday.

#fanfic #writing #little witch academia #I know i'm slow at these but i'll definitely finish all of them so no worries #diakko #diana cavendish #akko kagari

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

Text

Survey #217

“roses are red, and my heart is black. we creep about the floor to indulge like rats.”

Do you know anyone who works in a laboratory? No. What was the very first social media site you signed up for? MySpace. Can you see yourself marrying your current partner? (if you have a partner) Easily. If you were in a coma, who would be making healthcare decisions for you? My mom. Are you the type of person who knows exactly what they want in life? Not entirely, but mostly. Do you have commitment issues? Not at all. What was the last thing you had an allergic reaction to? Silver. Have you gone out to dinner in the past week? No. What’s something you’ve done that sounds too crazy to be true? The only thing I think someone would actually find "crazy" would be I've been in a psychiatric hospital five or six times (I seriously can't remember). Are there any flowers planted outside your house? No. Well, not by us. There's a camellia tree by our back door that we didn't plant. What’s the weirdest decoration you’ve seen in someone else’s home? I'unno. I generally don't find decorations strange. Spice up your house with what you like. Did you have your own bathroom when you were growing up? No. Do you know anyone who never disciplines their children? I know of people. What’s the longest you’ve gone without leaving the house? Weeks. Are you more of a practical thinker, or more of an imaginative thinker? I think I can be on either end depending on the situation. Does anyone in your family smoke? My dad does. How well do you know your neighbors? I've never interacted with the ones to the right of us, but Mom knows the woman to the left, and she's apparently very nice. Mom was talking about her just the other day about how she always brings our trash can back to the fence, actually. How far are you into the book you’re currently reading? N/A Have you ever had a pet escape and run away? I don't believe so, at least not permanently. Do any of your exes know each other? Jason and Juan did. Girt and Jason know each other because of me; we all hung out a few times. It's both funny and sad now to know how friendzoned Girt was... ha ha. Sorry man. What’s an opinion you find impossible to take seriously? "Dinosaurs didn't exist." What the fuck are fossils then, bitch. What was the very first election you voted in? I haven't voted in any yet. Do you know how to make omelettes? No. I could probably figure it out, but I don't know for sure. What is your favorite summer month? Fuck summer. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? One of the witches from Hocus Pocus would be super cool, but yeah, I don't have the money to even try to make a costume. Do you have a desk in your room? If so, do you use it as a desk that you sit and work at? No. Do you wear band tees? if yes, which one is your favorite? Yes. I love my Metallica one. It's got a really cool design. Would you ever want to live in a home with all-white walls and furniture? "Not white furniture, no. That seems like it’d be a pain to keep clean." <<< Definitely. Do you have pajama days often? I'm literally always in pjs unless I have to leave the house and get out of the car. There's no point in changing otherwise; I'd just be creating more laundry. What is one thing you’re behind on? Instead of the usual "life in general" answer, I'll make it more interesting. RP. Jesus fucking holy Christ, I am over a year behind in SO MUCH because I just haven't had motivation, all the while plots have grown like mad. Thank god my partners are really damn patient, lol. And/or have other business, too. Do you ever re-arrange your room? No. I HATE moving/changing shit. Do you share a room with anyone? No. Who was your first roommate? Jason, Jacob, and Amanda. What season do you want to get married in? AUTUMN!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Frosting: chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate. Ice cream: chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla. Milkshake: chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate, more often. Do you drink protein shakes? EW that shit mad gross. What was the last type of candy you ate? Uhhhh what was it. I don't have candy a lot now, so uh... I think Airheads? What was the last craft project you completed? It was VERY weakly a "craft," but Sara's first Valentine's Day present. Which is better: starting things or finishing them? Finishing. I start things all the damn time and never finish them. What is the highest name-brand thing you own? Good question. What color GameBoy did you have as a kid? Red. What was your favorite GameBoy game? Hm. I liked a lot. We had a whole case of different ones. I suppose maybe the Spyro one I could never get far into. But I liked it anyway because yeah. Spyro. What was your favorite Backstreet Boys song? "The Call" probably tops the list, but also you're full of shit if you thought "Larger Than Life" wasn't a fuckin BANGER. Damn, "The Shape of My Heart" was great, too. BSB were/are just great, man. Did you ever wonder what it felt like to get slimed? Ha ha you mean like on Nickelodeon? Yup. Did you ever name a pet after an imaginary friend? I never had one. Do you believe in angels and demons? I don't know. I believe in spirits, but I don't know about actual angels and demons. Do you have a PayPal account? No. What race do you consider yourself? ... You can "consider" yourself a race? You don't get to pick that. Whatever, I'm Caucasian. Should unwanted animals in shelters be killed to make room? Fuck that shit. Should cows be killed for human food? See, this is why I want to return to vegetarianism. TECHNICALLY, no. It's murder upon a conscious, feeling, living being. But at the same time, humans are designed as omnivores, and surviving off of a plant-based diet is, sadly, extremely difficult. It's difficult to obtain the proper nutrients and their advised amounts to be healthy. Therefore, I can't confidently answer this question. I wish they didn't have to be, but human civilization would have an incredibly more difficult time continuing with all meat products removed for consumption. Does the technique used to kill an animal matter to you? I mean if I KNEW, yes, but at least from the research I've done, there's no real "humane" method used to kill livestock. Most live in awful conditions/are already unhealthy, too, and that should matter . Should farmers be allowed to cause suffering in animals to save money? Fuck off. Should production of medicines be justification to cause animals to suffer? No. We neeeeeeed to find other ways. Use pedophiles or some shit. Should violence against animals; such as rodeos/ bullfights be legal? Fuck to the hell no. I get some kind of dark pleasure out of hearing about shitheads being gored and stuff for it, honestly. Should homosexuals be allowed to work with children? This shit pisses me the fuck off. Of course they should be. Like I'm sorry, but your children aren't going to be hidden from them forever. Do you believe homosexuality is caused by genetics? Well yeah. You don't get to choose your sexuality; something has to be responsible. Are Americans are truly free, or suffering from controlled freedom? CONTROLLED FREEDOM JFC TRY TO DENY IT. Are there other countries that offer more personal freedoms? Not that I KNOW of. Like yeah, my above answer clearly states I think America could be better, but I don't know I place where it's actually better. Do you trust your government? Fuck no. They hide a lot of shit. Should religious beliefs outweigh science in the making of laws? Lolololololol no, hunny. Separation of church and state. What is one moment that you missed out on that you wished you didn’t? Hm. OH, that solar eclipse that happened I think last year? We saw nothing here. :< Do you or have you ever had braces? For a long time. Got them on, then didn't have the money to take them off for a while. Can you text? Yeah, but not quickly. I am - usually - very thankful for autocorrect. Have you ever had a nervous breakdown? OH BOY HAVE I!!!!!!!!!!!! What are you scared to death of? My mom dying, for one. I DO NOT know what would happen to me. Are you good at art? I'm told so at least; I'm aware I'm at least decent. It also depends on the art form. Are you afraid of needles? Nah. What TV show is the stupidest to you? I honestly had a really big problem (and have, if it's still even on) with the Teen Mom series. Yes, I do in fact believe it made looking like one cooler and more normal than it is. Do you hate being ignored? Yes; I start to think I'm not cared about, badly. Especially if it's family or "friends." Like no, I don't at all expect attention constantly, or even a lot of it, but I think it's only natural people who claim they love you should not pretend they don't know you, particularly when you actually reach out. THEN it hurts. Where do you currently live? North Carolina, please get me out. Do you like marijuana? I wouldn't know. Do you donate to charity? I can't. I seriously don't have money. Where is your favorite place to go out to eat? Olive Garden. What is your favorite TV station? Discovery. Do you think you’re clever? No. Did you wear socks today? No. I avoid wearing socks as much as I can. Know any magic tricks? I don't remember the ones I learned as a kid. Do you sleep well most nights? No. When’s the last time you baked a cake? Never. What’s your preferred frozen snack? Ice cream, yum. Do you work better in a clean or messy environment? CLEAN. It inspires me to do well and with an organized strategy. Do you know any vegans? I don't believe so. Earphones or headphones? I personally prefer earphones since they go into the ear and are just more comfortable than a weight on your head that can move easier. Do you like bananas? Yeah, but the timespan in which I enjoy them is short. They have to be "perfect." What’s a film you’ve seen that confused you? I know there are some, but none are coming to me curr- WAIT NO okay so I saw Warcraft when it came out into theaters, and I barely understood a single thing because the orcs' voices were way too deep. I need to rewatch it with subtitles. Do you ever wear black lipstick? I pretty much always do if I wear lipstick. What would you change about yourself appearance-wise? HEY can I Please fix my fucking weight??? Because I do like everything I can do already & nothing works??? :') How long do you normally spend in the shower? Just short of ten minutes, I think. If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be? *opens novel of ideas* Don't make me pick just one. When trick-or-treating as a kid, was there any kind of candy that you didn’t like to get? Tootsie rolls, ew. What is your favorite memory of Christmases past? The time my mom, sisters, and I went to a Christmas light show one night, and we got back to the car only to realize Mom left the keys in there. Sooo while we waited for my drunk dad and brother to come help us, we all chilled on the car's hood with chocolate covered peanuts and THE best hot chocolate. That place is no longer around, and I'll forever be mad tilted about it. What is the most outrageous thing you’ve done for God? Lmfao remember the days I denied evolution and gay rights? Them were the wild times. When you were in grade school, what did you want to be when you grew up? Why? First, paleontologist because I adored (and still adore) dinosaurs, then a vet as I wanted to help animals. In high school, it changed from movie director to game designer. Name the most famous person you’ve had a face to face encounter with. No one. If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why? Um like have y'all ever heard of this guy named Mark Edward Fischbach because I have time to enlighten you of all the reasons- What article of clothing most closely describes your personality? Pj pants, lmao. Who was your hero when you were a child, and what did you do to be like them? Steve Irwin. I adore animals in general, push very firmly for conservation, and madly support proper education of wildlife, especially your local kinds. How did you learn to ride a bicycle? I had a bike with training wheels at first, then my dad took them off and would jog alongside me, holding the bars and then releasing them after a few moments for me to go on my own. Repeated 'til I got it! Based on something you’ve already done, how might you make it into the Guinness Book of World Records? This is going to be VERY embarrassing to share, but fuck it. I have so little reason to leave my bed that my legs have actually experienced muscle atrophy. My knees especially are extremely prone to awful pain when standing or walking. I don't really have a way to exercise in this tiny house, my road is too sketchy to walk along, and at least this time of year, I physically can't handle the heat if I was to walk in the back yard. I'm dying to go somewhere where I can swim to fix this shit. I could ramble on forever about how painful it is to be on my feet. I'd be happy enough with even just a treadmill. When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it? Hm. I guess foreplay with a girl. I don't exactly experience new things much. What is your concept of a fruitful day? Actually doing productive shit. If you could rid the world of one thing, what would it be? Violence. What is your best personal characteristic? I am like, incredibly passionate. If I believe in something, you'll know. If I love something, it's to an insane degree. If you had to enter a competition for the “Most Uselessly Unique Talent,” what would your talent be? Being able to hide my thumb under my palm to where it looks like it's entirely non-existent lmao. What is your worst personality characteristic? I am VERY sensitive. I also have a hard time taking criticism without beating my ass up because I feel like I did something "bad." I don't get defensive, I just get hurt. Man, I could go on. There's a lot I don't like about myself. If you had to be a teacher of something, what would you teach? I'd be most interested in teaching science. How would you like to be remembered? I loved ferociously and spoke strong of peace. What is one thing that you constantly think about (other than material things)? The future. Does your country have free healthcare? *points at top five list of things America needs to fucking fix* Does your job allow visible tattoos? N/A How is your road rage? I drive so timidly and rarely that I don't think I really even have a clue. Who are your closest friends and how did you meet them? I'll exclude Sara as she's more than "a close friend." I don't have many close friends otherwise tho, so really... I think only Girt applies. We met in high school band. Well, then there's Alex, but considering she now acts like I don't exist as well, I don't know how close we really are. But anyway, we met in WoW because we were both camping the time-lost protodrake and talking w/ others in the general chat... but she and I really clicked. That was an awesome day. Started some damn adventures with her lmao. Are you still cool with any of your exes? The only two who may still have a problem with me are Jason and Tyler, but I have no bad feelings towards them. What Hogwarts House are you in? I took quizzes once for a survey because I was curious, but I couldn't answer most of the ones I found bc they had HP references I didn't get. But anyway, I think Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were pretty much tied. What’s the next special event in your life? Returning to school. :') Whose birthday is coming up soon? My nephew's. :''''') Do you delete people from Facebook if their views are vastly different than yours? It depends on the views and their severity. Usually I can handle averse opinions if you're actually a friendly person and composed and mature about what you believe and how you express that. What’s your favorite thing to put on bagels? Cream cheese. What’s the most important key on your key ring? I only have one, and that's to my house. What was the last argument you got in about and who was it with? AHAHAHAAHAHA okay so. There was a video on FB of a pet meerkat having its belly rubbed, and it was chirping happily. It was very cute, but especially because this video was on a big page, I commented how awful and unhealthy of an idea it is to have a pet meerkat for both it and yourself. It's illegal in a lot of places for good reason. I got a lot of agreement, but of course there was one imbecile who disagreed enough to tell me to shut the fuck up. Now I am normally very, very terrified of confrontation or even the HINT of it, but for once in my life I couldn't have been more unfazed. At what age did you start picking out your own outfits? I don't know. I've come to find via surveys that I can't really remember events by ages. How spicy do you like your food? Pretty spicy. Spicier than most like, but I don't enjoy it when it's just pure pain. What was the last really intense pain you felt? You know that awwwfuuuulll pinch of pain you sometimes get in your ribs when your lungs expand to a certain, small amount? That. I couldn't take deep breaths for anything. What is the best thing that’s ever happened to you? Recovery from the breakup. What are three things you have been a victim of? Uhhhh. Idk, nothing major. What is your passion? Wildlife conservation, probably more than anything. When was the last time you truly felt alive? Ha, good question. How many siblings do you have? Technically six, but I don't know one at all. Are you married? No. Are you dating someone? Yeah. If not, do you wish you were dating someone? N/A Do you want an indoor or outdoor wedding? I'm not sure. What states (or countries) have you lived in? Just one. Does your first crush know you liked them? No. Do you wish on stars? Nope. Are you happier now than you were 10 years ago? I don't know. I can't really remember exactly what I was like at 13. I think I'm maybe happier now? Are you happier now than you were 5 years ago? Yes. ^If not, why not? N/A ^If yes, why? My depression is under control. Do you live in your dream house? Definitely not. What was your first job? Sales clerk at GameStop. ^Did you like it? No, thanks to feral social anxiety. Have you been bullied? No, very thankfully. What do you wish people knew about you? I sincerely care about my loved ones, a lot, even though I have trouble being the one to reach out first. What health issues do you have? A lot. Don't even feel like putting them all together. Do you still cross paths with your first crush ever? No. What is your favorite Bible verse, and why? None. Do you have a secret nobody knows? Yes. It's nothing major, just little things I don't want to share. Who are some of the most selfish people you have ever met? I don't know. Is there anyone you want back in your life? Yes. What color was the house you grew up in? True shit, I somehow don't remember for sure. I think it was brick? What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Charcoal, a cat, was the first pet I had a serious, deep bond with. Do you receive more insults or compliments? Compliments, I guess. Do you meditate? No. Do you pray? No. Have you ever seen a spirit/ghost/shadowy figure, etc.? I've sure as hell seen something. What would you ask a genie for, if you had three wishes? World peace, end of disease, and the end of poverty. When someone messages you and you know it’s going to be rude, do you ignore it and not read it, or do you read it and reply? Honestly, most of the time, I ignore it. I am so, SO sensitive, so my feelings are super easily hurt by what others have to say. Do you find online drama stressful? Yes. Even more than irl drama because you have to wait painstakingly for them to reply, and you can't hear their tone of voice. How stressful is your life? I'm pretty damn stressed for someone who's trapped inside their house lmao. Was any of your home decor inspired by Pinterest? No. Do you do yoga? No. What is something you have tried and hated? Oral is NOT my jazz. Do you have regrets? Yeah. Are you mad at someone? No. What is this month’s calendar picture? I don't have a calendar. What is your last ex-boyfriend’s or ex-girlfriend’s name? Technically Donald. Do you have an ex-friend that you miss? Yep. What color do you want your wedding dress to be? Most likely black. Would you rather go out for pancakes or steak? Pancakes. I like them more in general, and I'm also suuuper picky with steak. What’s your favorite Ramen noodle flavor? The only kind I've ever liked is the Yakisoba brand of spicy chicken. How do you feel when you read the Bible, if you read it? Encouraged? Angry? I don’t read it. Have you ever suffered from anxiety? I had some anxieties as a little kid, and I was officially diagnosed with it in the 6th grade. Have you ever suffered from depression? Since the 7th grade. What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Pie is what came to mind first. What’s an uplifting song you like to listen to? "High Hopes" by P!ATD. Think about the person you fell hardest for. Why do you think your feelings for this person were so strong? How is he/she different compared to everyone else you’ve had feelings for? Well, he was my first real love. They're always special. I was fucking crazy for him, and it grew to an unhealthy degree. Trust me, you can love too much. He made me happy when so few could back then, and we had a connection unprecedented in my whole life. He himself felt like my home. I could write you a goddamn novel on why I felt so strongly. Have you ever caught your friend cheating on their boyfriend/girlfriend? If you have, what did you do about it? If you haven’t, what do you think you would do? No. Quite honestly, I'd tell them. I could NOT keep that a secret. Whether they believe me or not, I'm not withholding that from them. When your last relationship ended, how long was it before you felt ready to think about being with someone else? I know this technically sounds bad, but Sara and I started dating the day after I broke up with him. One of the reasons we split is because I realized I liked her. It was so quick because I never had to "move on;" I never came to be truly interested in him romantically. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to sleep last night? Do you remember what you talked about? Sara and I were texting, but I don't remember about what. When are you at your happiest? When I'm with Sara. How many people have you kissed? Three or four. I don't really remember if I ever kissed Girt. How many of those people are you still friends with? Two. Where did you go, the last time you left your house? Mom and I went to multiple places. She had errands to run. Do you like your singing voice? Rarely. I think it fits only a few songs. Are most silences awkward for you? UH-HUH UH-HUH. Name someone you wish you had never met. Why? Jabari. He was scary and almost assaulted someone in my family. Who has the nicest singing voice, that you know personally? Probably Sara. Say something nice about someone you really don’t care for: He loves his kids to death. Ever won school awards? Yes. Do you drink more soda than anything else? Not anymore, thankfully. Do you curse a lot? I curse possibly more than anyone you know. Have you ever been in a courtroom? Yes. Do you eat a lot around Thanksgiving? No. I actually don't like 99% of Thanksgiving food. Were you a chubby child? No. Are you afraid to sing in front of people? Yes. Do you enjoy your family? Yeah. When did you last dance with someone? I forced Sara to last June lmao. Do you feel awkward watching sex scenes? VERY. Did you ever have senior photos done? No. Are your parents protective of you? Mom is for sure. I don't see my father much, and he's changed a LOT since the divorce, so I can't really answer for him. I know he is to some degree, I just don't know how much. Have you ever been bullied? I've had some mean shit said to me, but I don't believe I've ever really been consistently "bullied." Do you ever help decorate during the holidays? No. I just don't have the motivation and don't really care enough to put things up that're only coming down in two months. Do you have carpeted floors? Only my room and my sis's old one. Can you count to ten in another language? German, yeah. Have you ever been arrested? No. Do you always lock your door at night? Yeah. Do you get allowance? No, never did. Do you have a Facebook? Yes. Do you enjoy the presence of children? In most cases, no.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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simone-garnett · 6 years ago

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title: strawberry kisses word count: 9.2k information: high school au. dedicated to @thatkillervibe bc i promised them i’d finish my high school au when they posted theirs and you should read it bc it’s incredible guys. it’s just unfair. also bc their reviews make me wanna cry.

ao3 // ffn

Caitlin isn’t quite sure how Iris convinced her to help out in the kissing booth of her school fair, Caitlin didn’t even attend that school. But Iris with a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts and a way with words that could convince an army general to turn on their country had turned up her charm, sweet talking Caitlin into agreeing, the girl helpless to refuse the pleas of her close friend, the squeal of joy from Iris and the hug almost make it seem worth it.

It helps that she would likely never have to see any of these people again, Caitlin’s own school over two hours away, a selective school that her mother swears has the best science department in the state.

Iris goes on a million miles an hour, thanking her for the assistance, promising that nothing would happen that could hurt Caitlin, swearing the customers would wear blindfolds if it made her feel more comfortable doing it, the people not able to recognise her if they don’t know what she looks like.

Caitlin had already agreed, but it was sweet of Iris to try and protect her, the girl going on about how it would add an extra level of mystique around it. Caitlin nods, smiling as Iris gives her the date and details.

And then it is too late to change her mind, Caitlin unaware of the impact this one day would have on her life.

Nerves like butterflies in her stomach erupt as the day draws near, the mere thought of it enough to distract her from her studies, chemistry and biology playing second fiddle to the maelstrom of emotions inside her, playing havoc with her brain and heart. It is difficult to squash them down, but even at a young age she has mastered the skill, allowing herself a minute to wallow in its intensity before squashing it down, drowning out the noise with chemical equations and precipitation reactions and science. Because science was easy, it was comfortable, it wasn’t scary in the slightest. It becomes a struggle to ignore the feelings when it is only a few days, a few hours away, Caitlin giving up on trying, throwing herself on her bed, praying for sleep she knows won’t come.

And then it is here.

It is a nice, summer day, the school grounds of Central City High an eruption of colour and energy, the atmosphere buzzing from the excitement of students and parents and teachers alike, families and friends and couples walking through the grounds, smiles and laughter filling up the air, lifting up the spirits of everyone there.

Caitlin arrives early - she arrives everywhere early. She walks around, smiling softly to herself as she glances around. She walks around alone. It isn’t really anybody’s fault; Iris was running around, making sure everything was operating like a well-oiled machine, and Barry was trailing along. She knew no one else. And it showed. Showed to others, and to herself. Because everyone had someone, everyone but her. There was loneliness scratching at her heart, the small tickle enough to remind her that there was no one to enjoy it with.

It feels strange enjoying the carnival with no one else to share it with, so she relaxes, people watches until it is time for her to take her shift in the kissing booth. It brings a smile to her lips, imaginary lives created in an instant, the happiness of other - even imaginary - something that Caitlin enjoys. She is silly and out-there with the fictional lives of the students she’s never met before, and she can’t help but laugh at it all. There are some odd looks thrown her way, strangers confused as to why she was laughing by herself, and she doesn’t blame them. But she doesn’t care.

She catches sight of someone, a crowd of someone’s really, but he stands out, wide smile, soulful eyes and long hair that blows freely in the wind. It causes her to stop in her spot, Caitlin struck by his presence, breath catching in that moment. She feels like a cheesy cliche, the way she can’t look away, a flow of electricity through her veins, but it’s real and true and she can’t tear herself away.

Not once did she think he’d notice her standing, staring.

He does.

His was mid sentence, mouth moving a million miles an hour, hands gesticulating everywhere. It is an animated discussion at best, an argument at worst. But his attention flickers away from the guy with the glasses he was talking to, looks around. And he stops, mouth agape. The thought of ducking, of averting her gaze and ignoring him entirely floats through her mind, but she can’t find the strength to, not when he is watching her the way he is. It is indescribable, the feeling fluttering inside her, the spark the crackles between them. She feels is, is surprised by it, and the temptation of crossing the distance between them, of introducing herself to the cute boy and a smile with enough power to run a generator, passes through her mind. And judging from his reaction, she thinks - she hopes - he is thinking the same thing.

But her phone rings.

It breaks her trance, Caitlin ducking her head on embarrassment, red tinting her cheeks. And how she maintains a steady voice when speaking to Iris she has no idea, her friend calling to plead with her to start fifteen minutes early. The fear returns then, a rock in her stomach, slowing down her mind and movements. And she forgets about the cute boy, Caitlin forcing herself to move toward the tent where the booth was, time speeding up around her.

Iris is waiting outside, pacing around, her face lighting up as she sees Caitlin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she squeals, arms thrown around Caitlin’s neck in a hug. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that? I owe you girl, big time.” Relief was coming out of her pores, Iris slipping her hand into Caitlin’s, tugging her into the back of the tent and pushing her into a seat.

“Wait -” And Caitlin’s heart is beating hard, the girl unable to deny reality for any longer. “What are you doing? What’s - what’s happening?”

“Lippie.” It is a simple answer, Iris leaning over to the table beside Caitlin which the girl hadn’t even noticed, rouge lipgloss in her hand. “Okay and pout.” Iris holds her face still, Caitlin sticking out her lips as bright red lipgloss is placed on her lips. It only takes a few moments for her to complete the job and Iris caps the product, placing it in Caitlin’s hand. “Strawberry flavoured, to give them something to crave later. Just remember to refresh regularly,” Iris reminds her, eyes sparkling like diamonds as she smiles at her friend. “And have fun girl. Who knows who you’ll meet in there.” The wink is a bit much, Caitlin thinks, as Iris spins her around and pushes her to where Lisa is standing, Caitlin stumbling before she finds her stride, unsure and hesitant.

The older girl is oblivious to her entrance, Caitlin having to tap her on the shoulder in order to get her attention. She spins around, lipstick smudged slightly, hair like a Maybelline commercial. “You’re replacing me?” At Caitlin’s meek nod, Lisa sighs in relief, shoulders falling. “Thank god. Damn Len owed a favour to her boyfriend. Can’t wait to ditch this place.” She pauses, gaze flickering up and down Caitlin before smirking. “Might come back on the other side though.” The words are smooth and red colours her cheeks and she stammers for words even after Lisa flounces out of the tent.

Wait, isn't Iris with Eddie? How is Barry her boyf-

Her thoughts are interrupted by the first person, a boy her age shuffling in, holding on to the rope that lead him from the entrance of the tent to the exit. He stops when he finds the knot to indicate he was beside her, the guy turning to his left where he was told she would be. It is a small peck on the lips, chaste, but not quick enough for him to feel cheated out of his money. It takes a few attempts for her to get the timing of it right, and she internally sighs in relief, the process not as nerve wracking as she imagined it to be.

There is a throng of people, both guys and girls, that line up in front of her tent, Iris bouncing as she sees the crowd of people waiting for a moment with Caitlin Snow, this mysterious beauty no one had yet to catch eyes upon. Curiosity and hormones can be a dangerous mix, but in this instance, it is only a profitable one.

One by one they come in, receive their kiss, and then slip out, the clock’s hand slowing down for her, the afternoon taking forever. She checks her watch frequently, quietly counting down the hours and minutes until it is all over and she can resume her life outside these fabric walls.

She glances at the time, relief filling her as she realises there is just five minutes left of her shift, five more minutes until she can leave the tent and not look back. She figures that there is either five more customers, or that she can attempt to hold the first one for as long as possible to avoid the line. The school funds wouldn’t miss out on the money and the other’s wouldn’t miss out on their kiss, another lad or lady waiting to take her place while she relaxes and enjoys the fair.

She calls for the gatekeeper-slash-money collector to send in another person.

And they do, a guy slowly feeling his way into the tent, stopping at the knot in the centre.

It’s the boy from before.

Her heartbeat picks up at the sight of him, a blush colouring her cheeks and she hides her face before realising that they couldn’t actually see her. He didn’t know who she was.

... It leaves her a little disappointed.

Words get caught in her throat, Caitlin opening her mouth to say something, anything, but she can’t. It would be difficult dragging this on when she can’t form words around him.

But he beats her to the task. “I’m sorry,” the guy rambles, standing there awkwardly, the blindfold over his eyes. The shirt is unique, Caitlin muffling a laugh as she reads the science pun on it, smiling brightly at the joke.“I’m not usually like this. It’s just that I lost a bet and this is the result and I’m so sorry.” He stresses the last words and she isn’t sure how to respond to it.

“I like your shirt,” she offers sweetly instead.

He pulls a face. “Really?” It is followed quickly by a wince, as though he realises how it sounds out loud and regrets it immediately. “I’m not saying you don’t understand it, because I’m sure you do. But everyone in our Science Club thinks it’s the corniest thing ever. And, I mean, they are so wrong, but I figure consensus there would be reflected in the real world, so....” He drifts off, hand lifting from the rope to rub the back of his neck in nervousness, Caitlin watching as the bottom locks of his hair got caught up in the action.

“It’s cute.” She sounds a little different and gosh, she hopes he can hear the subtle changes in her voice.

He doesn’t seem to, a smile stretching across his lips. “Okay, but would you wear it?” He is joking, but it doesn’t stop the image flashing through her mind. Couples stole each others clothing, she thinks. Or at least, she stole Ronnie’s jumpers when they were dating. She wouldn’t mind taking his shirts.

“Yeah,” she says eventually, realising he couldn’t see her nod in the affirmative. “I would.” The tops of his eyebrows come out from the blindfold and he is definitely sceptical. “Okay, not all the time,” she amends, “but I would wear it.”

He chuckles weakly, rubbing his exposed bicep as the silence between them draws on. “Sooo.... we’re doing this aren’t we?”

“You did pay for it.”

He nods at her words, but he doesn’t make a move. But then quietly, “I’m not sure what I should be doing.”

“Just stand there.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. She caves to her feelings and plays with his hair, twirling the soft locks around her finger. Caitlin may be in love with the way it feels. “Is this okay?”

He gulps, voice strained. “Yep.”

And she is definitely affected by her little crush, voice soft as she leans in close, her eyelids fluttering closed. She stops when they are only an inch apart, hot puffs of air against her lips. “And is this okay?”

He nods, apparently losing his voice. His hand flexes beside his side and he itches to hold her.

Caitlin closes those scant centimetres between them, capturing his lips in a kiss.

The kiss is soft and gentle, Caitlin leaning into the guy in front of her more firmly as she feels warmth flood her being. The electricity from before shoots through her, and she likes the sensation, smiling against his lips as she lingers in the embrace.

The kiss is soft and gentle, until it’s not.

He lets go of the rope, choosing instead to hold her, hands on her waist as he tugs her closer, the boy deepening the kiss. It takes her by surprise, but she leans into it easily, hands moving from his shoulders, one cupping the back of his neck to hold him to her, the other carding through his locks. And she would feel embarrassed at her moan if he didn’t growl in response, the vibrations shooting through her, his fingers digging into her skin, the rope uncomfortable between them.

They pull away breathless and she considers pulling off his blindfold, wonders how he’ll react to seeing her. “That... was unexpected,” he chokes out.

“You’re telling me,” she sighs, slightly in love with the rasp in his voice, with the effect she had on him with just one kiss. And Caitlin is a hopeless romantic, already imagining the sound whispered in her ear as he tells her how perfect the kiss was, how he can’t wait until he gets to do it again. And she imagines the hands on her waist, strong and tight, imagines them holding her hand, holding her close, imagines those lips on her neck, lightly peppering kisses as he tells her how he missed her, how he wants her. It sends a hot flush through her and she has to force a cough out to disguise the whimper that leaves her at the thought.

His face freezes at her words, the smile falling fractionally. “Wait - unexpected in a good way or a bad way?”

“Unexpected in a I-wouldn’t-mind-doing-that-again way.” She rushes out the words before she could second guess herself, Caitlin’s eyes widening as she realises that yes, she actually said them out loud.

He looks surprised at the words, but it fades away, face lighting up with a grin. “You have a nice voice, you know that?”

She bites back her own smile, looking at him through her lashes. “That... that’s a new one. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he beams, pausing only to lick his lips. “Is that... strawberry?” A snort of laughter escapes her, Caitlin covering her mouth to muffle the sound, but he catches it, a smile, sweet and genuine, stretching on his face. “So I was wondering, do you wanna, I don’t know, grab some Big Belly Burger sometime?” He sounds nervous. She thinks it’s cute.

“Are you asking me out?” she asks coyly, a teasing smile on her lips. “But you don’t even know what I look like.”

“I don’t need to.” He says the words so confidently, so sure he wouldn’t care, and she feels the butterflies returning, a swarm of them inside her stomach, fluttering around and leaving her feeling dizzy with a feeling she couldn’t identify.

There is a disturbance at the back of the tent and Caitlin can hear voices coming from the direction. She thinks she hears Iris, thinks she hears her name. Caitlin turns to the mysterious guy, a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

He nods at her request and is only then that she rushes off, slipping out of the tent to answer questions for Iris. The girl relaxes at the sight of her, the young guy that was with Iris pushed inside. ”I’m so sorry,” Iris apologises, taking her hand. “Brad was late and I couldn’t find anyone to take over. Oh gosh, girl, you’re a lifesaver, thank you so much.” A smile stretches across Iris’ expression, more relaxed than she had been most of the day. “And now you’re finished.” She loops her arm in with Caitlin’s, “so lets go have some fun!”

The reluctance from Caitlin to leave is obvious, the girl looking back to the tent. And she eventually breaks away from Iris, the girl turning her head to look at Caitlin quizzically. ”I - I left something inside there,” she says. It’s not exactly a lie, a boy was left inside there. “You go ahead and I’ll catch up.” Iris nods slowly, a look in her eyes that tells Caitlin she hadn’t quite sold herself. But she does go and Caitlin rushes back in the tent, an apology ready on her tongue.

But when she goes back, the guy is gone.

Caitlin can’t stop thinking about the guy from the kissing booth, thinking of his smile and laugh and the way he kissed her so thoroughly, urgent and insistent as though she were the best thing his lips had ever touched, the way his hands were on her hips, the way they slid to her back, he made her feel like a goddess. And late at night she fantasises about him, those biceps where she could feel the strength underneath her fingertips, the hair that was longer than her school would allow him, the urge to run her fingers and touch it one she couldn’t resist.

He is a distraction she never anticipated, never thought she’d have to fight. But he pops into her head when she revises her AP Physics, her mind drifting from the formula to the pun on his shirt to his face, his mouth, his smile. It isn’t good and she’d been caught more than once in class daydreaming, the blush a permanent fixture on her face as Professor Wells calls her out.

He ruins her for other guys,

and she never even got his name.

It isn’t good, just how much time she accidentally devotes into thinking about the boy, and she wonders if she could make up another excuse to visit Iris at her school, to attend Science Club meetings and carnivals until she bumps into him and gets his name. And number. And maybe another kiss. She shakes her head, laughing at herself, as she refocusses on her work. It would be obvious and desperate on her part, and there was no way that he would still be single, not for this long. Not him.

It isn’t healthy Caitlin tells herself eventually, isn’t good for her to daydream over a boy she’s likely to never meet again, isn’t good for her to get so distracted from her school work, not when she needs the scholarship for college. And so she tries to forget him, forces herself to. Her energy is directed to the state science competition approaching in a few weeks, Caitlin a core part of her school’s team. Succeeding would be an incredible achievement and a highlight on her application forms.

It would be just what she needs to get out from under her mother’s shadow and show the world that she, Caitlin Snow, was a scientific genius in her own right.

And she succeeds in forgetting him.

Mostly.

The next time she really gets to spend time with Iris is at the State Science Competition finals. Not that Iris was competing; she was involved in the school newspaper and student council, but science bored her more than anything else. She however, was a wonderfully supportive friend... for Barry.

The boy was a part of the Central City Stars and as Iris’ official best friend she had gone to support him.

The sight of the competition shouldn’t have relaxed Caitlin, she knew how intelligent Barry was, the guy able to read at superhuman speeds and absorb the information just as quickly. He was the enemy, but he was also her friend. So she approaches them, Barry yelping as Caitlin bumps his hip with hers, surprising him. He glares at both her and Iris as the other girl start laughing, Barry crossing his arms in mock annoyance. “That’s it Cait, no more Mr Nice-Guy.”

“Barry I don’t think you can change. That’s definitely a part of your molecular structure.” There is confusion as to whether she was teasing him or complimenting him and he chooses to bite his tongue. She smiles widely at him, sliding her arm around his shoulder, giving him a one-armed hug. It is enough to crack his mood, Barry pulling her close, a whisper of good luck against the side of her head. “Glad to see you’ve come to support me Iris.”

Iris hesitates and Barry’s face falls at the sight. It is enough to have Iris cave, a smile on her face as she loops her arm with Barry. “Sorry girl, here for my school.”

“So what do I need to bribe you with to have you switching sides Iris?” she teases, Barry looking put-out as Iris pretends to ponder it over.

“A cute guy would be enough.”

Caitlin grins at her, turning her head to search the crowd. “Hey Oliver!” And they watch as a boy lifts his head, turning to her, a quizzical look upon his face. And Iris hums in approval, gaze flicking over the man before smirking at Caitlin. The other girl shakes her head, and he goes back to whispering with the blonde beside him.

“You thought about that?” Iris whispers, eyes dancing in mirth.

She laughs. “Of course, I’ve got eyes.”

“I’m right here you guys,” Barry complains, crossing his arms and pouting at the pair.

The synchronised ‘we know’ is enough to have them erupting into giggles.

it is also enough to steal the attention of the blonde beside Oliver, the girl squealing and dragging him along with her to the group.

“Caitlin!” Felicity almost stumbles into her, letting go of Oliver to pull her into a hug.

“Guys this is Felicity and Oliver, Felicity, Oliver this is Barry and Iris.” They all wave (most wave, not Oliver, he just watches, teases of a smile on his lips) and she hopes they get along, her best friends from school and her best friends from her childhood some of the closest people Caitlin had in her life. They exchange pleasantries and Barry looks at Oliver in awe, the boy so much bigger up close, questions on his diet and exercise regime rolling off his tongue. Caitlin and Iris try and muffle their laughter, to varying degrees of success, and Barry glares at them before turning back to Oliver.

The boys go off on their own, and Caitlin is almost positive that, despite Oliver’s apparent reluctance, they would be fast friends.

It leaves the girls together, Felicity rambling on about her revision on the developments of superconductors and microchips. It worries Caitlin, isolating Iris by talking science when she wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“You’re -”Iris starts and Caitlin holds her breath, unsure how Iris will react. Because while she teases Barry and Caitlin about their nerdiness, they grew up together, Felicity - she wouldn’t understand, not when she was teased incessantly in Vegas, no one able to understand her genius. “- Incredible,” Iris finishes, breathing out in awe. Her words have Felicity lighting up in pride and Caitlin could kiss Iris for that reaction, for the way it has Felicity stumbling over her words, denying the impressiveness of her knowledge.

“It’s not too late to jump ship,” Caitlin teases and Felicity laughs and this, she thinks, this is perfect.

But then she sees him. The boy from the the kissing booth. With his long, soft hair and wonderful smile and shirt with another ridiculous pun, it can’t be anyone else.

And of course he is, she thinks. He was a part of his own science club, he had told her that before. So of course he would come to the competition to represent his school. But she hadn’t thought that she’d meet him again, hadn’t thought it would be in this environment, surrounded by these people, this pressure on her to not get distracted. He catches her staring at him, his brows furrowing at he stares back.

And her shift in behaviour is slight, but its obvious, Felicity stopping mid sentence, mouth pulled into an ‘o’ and frowning in concentration as she watches Caitlin, gaze sliding across to where the other girl was focussing. “Is that him?”

The question has Caitlin jumping, eyes owlish as her gaze darts between the pair of them, Felicity smirking and Iris almost vibrating in excitement. “No. What? Who?”

“Okay girl, if you plan on lying to us, you really need to work on that. So -” Iris strains her neck, looking side to side to catch a glimpse of the mysterious guy. “Who is it and how did you meet?”

“The cute guy she made out with at the kissing booth ages ago.” Felicity adjusts her glasses, swaying to the side to bump shoulders with Caitlin, the girl now stiff. “And the main star of all her fantasies.”

Iris turns to her quickly, eyes sparkling like diamonds, the smile on her face enough to weaken most people. “You never told me you met someone at the kissing booth Cait! You know I would have tracked them down for you.”

“Felicity, remind me never to tell you anything again. Ever.” The words lack much bite, Felicity looking too proud of herself to show any remorse for revealing that information to Iris.

“You should go over there, say hi, grab his number.” Iris nods like it is the obvious thing to do, like approaching the person you’ve been fantasising over and saying hello is an easy and simple thing to do. Which, maybe for her it is. But she was the hottest girl at Central City High and was dating the hottest (and sweetest) guy there so Caitlin takes her advice with a grain of salt.

“Are you insane?!” she hisses, Caitlin blushing at the mere thought of it. “I could never do that.”

“Cait, babe, you need to go for it.” And she thinks Iris is far too perceptive, her gaze softening as she takes Caitlin’s hands between her own. “You’re an incredible girl and he’d be crazy to reject you. Don’t - don’t do this to yourself.”

It is sweet, but strikes too close to home, the walls around her heart struck with the vibrations from the words. Because he already had. He left. She asked him to wait and he left, left her.

“He’s still competition Iris.” The girl nods, but Caitlin can see the cogs turning in her head. And she finds herself watching Iris as the competition nears its start and the groups congregate, Iris sidling to the Central City Stars, pulling Barry to the side. Caitlin knows she should be paying attention to her own group, but Iris’ face is lighting up and Barry’s is even worse. Her stomach swoops when they both turn and meet her gaze, the twinkle in their eyes unnerving her. Last time Iris had looked at her like that Caitlin had been roped into the Kissing Booth.

It is Ronnie who gets her attention, a hand on her shoulder and a concerned look on his face. She offers him a smile, forcing herself to forget about the conspiratorial look between her two friends. She turns back to Professor Wells, the man finishing his talk, the team walking to their table. Felicity sits at the head of the table, the leader of their team, Caitlin in between Lily Stein and Ronnie Raymond.

She turns her head, Barry at the top of his own table, Wally - Iris’ younger brother beside him, the pair discussing something. And then she sees him, the boy from the kissing booth having a much more heated discussion with the guy in glasses beside him. She thinks they might be arguing but it stops suddenly, the guy looking up and catching her watching them.

It has her ducking her head, Caitlin letting herself get caught up in Ronnie and his easy going demeanour, lets its wash over her, lets it help her forget the pressure of the competition, the nerves over a guy who had no idea who she is. He is relaxing, Lily and Felicity joining the conversation easily. And, when the adjudicator signifies the beginning of the competition, Caitlin feels as though she can take on the world.

The first round is general science questions, each team given a set of questions, the four allowed to discuss before the team captain answered. The timer for each question does heighten her nerves, but Caitlin is surrounded by her best friends and it is easy to forget that this isn’t a mock challenge set by Professor Wells.

They don’t miss a single question, but then, neither does Barry’s team.

The second round commences after a slight break, the rules changing. A buzzer is before each of them, the questions addressed to both teams, the points going to whichever school had the student answer it correctly. The questions were more specialised, choosing different branches of science and also mathematics. The initial questions were physics related and, while she was exceptional at the subject, Ronnie... he was a class above. He was doing spectacularly, though the other team had multiple individuals who also seemed to specialise in that area.

But then the boy hits the button and time all but stops for Caitlin.

Her heart rate picks up, the organ beating hard and fast, trying to escape from its confines in her chest. And it’s him, she knows it when he speaks, the same warm timbre, same softness and joy, even in this scenario. And she can’t tear her gaze away from him, can’t muster the strength to. He catches her, he always seems to catch her, but it isn’t enough.

He looks confused, but meets her gaze all the same. She doesn’t know what’s going through his head, assumes he thinks it is a method to throw him off. But she can feel the electricity, even if he can’t. And she’s crazy, she must be, to feel an intensity between them when he doesn’t recognise her. But she had spent months dreaming about this moment, and now it is happening, it doesn’t seem real. So she stares,

and he stares back.

Physics questions exhausted, they move on to biology, her speciality.

Caitlin moves without conscious thought, hitting the buzzer, her lightbulb flashing, indicating that she had reacted fastest. Her voice is crisp as she answers that it is mitochondria which is the powerhouse of the cell, gaze still locked with the mystery boy as the words roll off of her tongue. And she can see it, can pinpoint the very moment realisation hits him. It isn’t immediate, his brows furrowing as he struggles to place why the voice is so familiar, but then his eyebrows rise and his jaw drops, lips forming an ‘o’.

Only then does she have the strength to break the connection between them, Caitlin staunchly avoiding his gaze throughout the rest of the round. She can feel it, feel the intensity of it burning against her skin, his gaze unwavering. It licks at her skin, and she can feel it across all of her, Caitlin biting back her feelings, her need to look at him. Because if it is disgust in his gaze, if it is disappointment... she wouldn’t be able to handle that.

The Lily and Caitlin duo answering the majority of questions in chemistry and biology, though Barry does pose a challenge. Mathematics is Wally’s strong suit, and Felicity has a challenge facing the other two members of Barry’s team when it turns to technology. The race is too close to call, the weighting of questions varying depending on difficulty.

It is then that there is a break called, the teams disbanding to wait for the reveal of the final, the members jittery with excitement. Ronnie pulls them all into a group hug, the boy so sure they won against the other team. Caitlin isn’t quite so confident, but he had always been the voice of optimism when they were dating, it was one of the endearing things about him, even if it was the cause for more than one argument, and she remembers why he is universally liked.

Lily spots her parents in the audience and rushes off to him, Ronnie and Felicity lingering with Caitlin in the sidelines of the stage, discussing how they thought they went and ways they could improve. They are joined by Lily and Mr Stein, the small girl dragging her father to the group, the rest of them soaking up his advice and commendations. But there is a lull in the conversation, something distracting Felicity, and it wasn’t Oliver.

“So kissing booth cutie is staring at you,” Felicity says with a delighted smile, looking over Caitlin’s shoulder before waving at him. It has her stiffening, Caitlin determined to not cave in and check whether that was true.

“What?” Ronnie doesn’t sound sad or disappointed, merely curious at the descriptor and, for the millionth time, Caitlin is pleased that their breakup went as smoothly as it did. Mr Stein however, he looks sharply at the other team, a discerning eye on them as he scrutinises the boy.

“Nothing,” Caitlin says in response to Ronnie, burying her head in her hands. “And we are not calling him that!” It is a harsh whisper to Felicity, but she brushes it off. Professor Wells congratulates them on their effort in his own way, stiff and formal, with an undercurrent of genuine care and fondness for them all that has them beaming anyway. Mr Stein, he is more affectionate, pulling the girls into a hug, tells them that he was proud of them whether they win or lose, tells them they all have bright futures ahead of them. To Ronnie he offers a brisk handshake, the boy rolling his eyes, even as he smiles and accepts the handshake.

The bell rings indicating the break is over and a winner had been determined. So she turns to walk back to their table, Caitlin catching Barry watching her and smirking, while conversing with the boy from the kissing booth. She hates that she blushes as the look Barry gave her, plans her revenge, as he keeps on looking at her, wavering between the two. He gives up all pretence of having a conversation with the guy, especially as the kissing booth cutie (and damn it Felicity, she will get revenge for that) wasn’t wavering - he was most definitely staring at her.

They win, and she can’t help the smile and laughter that escape her when they pull aside and it finally hits her. They all walk off with a cheer, Ronnie pulling Caitlin into a hug and spinning her around. She laughs, her heart light and smile easy, the pair of them joined by Felicity and Lily, the group basking in the glory of their success. But then Ronnie goes off with his family, Felicity with Oliver. Caitlin looks around, almost hoping that the win would summon her mother, with arms open and words of support and pride spilling forth.

It is a fruitless dream, but she’s content. She has Mr Stein pull her into a hug, tears in his eyes as he tells her and Lily that he is proud of his two girls and he knew they would be special. It is nice, and Lily ribs him about Caitlin being his favourite daughter that has wet laughter coming from Mr Stein and half-hearted denials. He’s not her dad, but he is just as much her parent as her mother, Mr Stein there for her since her early childhood, the man a rock when her dad was sick and passed, Lily the sister she never had.

They offer her a ride home, but she shakes her head, Caitlin already having organised a ride with Barry and Iris. She leaves the Stein family in search for her friends, searching the crowd for the opposing team’s student support group. She finds Iris easily, the girl throwing her arms around Caitlin’s neck in a strong hug. “I knew you could do it girl!”

Barry huffs from her side, crossed arms and mock anger. “And here I was thinking you had my back Iris.” He breaks easily, pulling Caitlin into a hug of his own. “Congrats Cait, you guys were really incredible.” He whispers it against the side of her head, and there is no disappointment or envy in his tone.

Her smile almost splits her face as she squeezes him just that bit more before letting go. “Thanks Barry, you did pretty spectacularly yourself.”

“Yeah well,” and he beams at her words, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he becomes shy at the praise. “We’ll get you next year.”

It is enough to elicit a scoff from Caitlin, a rebuttal on her tongue. But it dies immediately, Barry and Iris exchanging looks, the pair communicating without words, the girl’s eyes widening. “What is it?” Caitlin sounds suspicious, she is suspicious, but it isn’t going to go well, she knows it.

“Well,” Iris starts, dragging the vowel along. “Remember how I promised to take you home for the weekend, well, I promised Barry I’d take him out for dinner to celebrate so I organised another ride for you.” She rushes the words out, the pair preparing to run.

“Well I can come along for a celebratory dinner, especially since I won.” Her voice has an edge, her arms crossed and Iris winces at her choice of words.

“Did I say celebratory? I meant conciliatory. To make up for the fact he lost - you being there, it would be like salt in the wounds. Don’t worry, you’ll like Cisco.” And they make a run for it, leaving Caitlin confused and alone.

She uncrosses her arms, pouting at where her friends used to be standing, muttering to herself. “Who the hell is Cisc -”

She turns around and there he is, the mystery boy from the kissing booth. Right in front of her. “Oh.”

He offers her a wave, a shy smile on his face. “That would be me.” And she’s left speechless. Because he’s right in front of her. Talking to her. She hadn’t prepared for this, there were no binders on this scenario. “So you’re Caitlin?” She can only nod mutely, wide eyed as she tries to process it all. He seems to be handling it better than her. “Well, congrats on the win. You guys were the better team, though Hartley would object to that.” He barks out a laugh and Caitlin finds herself falling that little bit more with him.

“I like your shirt.” It is a direct callback to their conversation from before, Caitlin more shy now open and vulnerable. “It’s cute.”

He sucks in a breath, and yeah, he definitely remembers her, remembers their last encounter. The butterflies return, fluttering away in her stomach, each flap of their wings forming tornadoes inside her.

“Okay,” and his voice is hoarse, Cisco taking a step closer to her. “But would you wear it?” They are closer now, so much closer. She can see the shine of his hair, the slight stubble across his jawline. She can hear the inflection in his tone, the fear of her response.

And Caitlin is almost breathless. “Yeah.”

He’s staring at her like she is a vision, a masterpiece that he is trying to memorise what she looks like, like she’s a mirage that would disappear if he were to reach over and touch her. It sends her heart into overdrive, the awe shining in his eyes. “What?” she asks, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, a small smile on her lips.

“I knew you’d be beautiful.” His voice is warm and she melts at the words, at the sincerity infused in his tone.

But still she rolls her eyes, determined to keep this light. “And you could tell by listening to my voice?”

“Your voice, your personality, your laugh. You were so beautiful and sweet and I knew, no matter what you looked like, it would be beautiful.” And well, crap. Because she was determined to keep it light and he went there, baring his heart out to her, Caitlin drowning easily in the emotion of those few words.

“Then why did you disappear?” She sounds so small asking the question that had haunted her for so long. “I said I’d be right back and when I returned you were gone.” There is a vulnerability in her tone, and his smile flickers and falls.

“The other dude showed up and your lipstick was all over my mouth, so I couldn’t really lie and say I was waiting for a kiss. I had to go.” He sounds so sad, voice low and soft and she’d drop it if she didn’t need answers so desperately, these thoughts plaguing her during the darkest nights, when her memories of their kiss morphed into nightmares of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘why’s’.

“You could have waited at the exit, I went around the tent three times hoping I’d just missed you.” There is an embarrassment which tints her confession, a secret she had cradled to her chest, not even admitting it to Felicity.

“I guess I was scared. There was a beautiful, smart, funny girl who is, by the way, an incredible kisser. I didn’t get why she’d be interested in me.” His head drops and she misses it already, misses how his eyes shine and how his laugh makes her heart skip a beat. The self deprecation kills her, Caitlin reaching out for him, her hand on his cheek, lifting his head back up.

She thinks he sees her emotion, her acceptance, in her eyes, Cisco covering her hand with his own. “She was.” It is a croak, Caitlin choked up by her feelings. At the way his eyes dim, she amends herself, “She is.”

There is a spark of hope and she wants to stoke it, wants to see it grow, see it consume them both. “I mean, you have complete permission to slap me or stop me, I won’t fight you or be upset, but I’ve been dreaming about this since I first got to kiss you and I’d really like to do it again.” And again, he is able to render her speechless, his eyes, so dark and beautiful, darting between her own, looking for any sign of reluctance on her part. She can only nod, lips separating in anticipation. And it is her which makes the first move, leaning forward, nose skimming the skin of his cheek, but it is Cisco who closes the distance, a gentle hand on her chin, tilting it closer to him as he takes a breath before pressing their mouths together.

And it is just as glorious as she remembered.

It is different than before, the kiss gentle and soft this time, no urgency, no fear of the other person disappearing. It is almost fragile, the soft brush of lips together, once, twice, thrice. It is then that Caitlin can’t stand the teasing, lifting herself on her toes to press the kiss more firmly. It has him smiling against her, his hands settling on her hips and she can only hope that the rest of their kisses leave her like this. They break it slowly, Caitlin opening her eyes, sight blurry, until it focusses on him. Giggling isn’t something that she would accompany first kisses, but it isn’t their first, even if it feels like it.

“I’m pretty sure I owe you Big Belly Burger. Remember?” He sounds so unsure, as though she hadn’t replayed his voice for months, hadn’t stared at him all afternoon because she wanted him to recognise her, to mean what he had said. As though he hadn’t stolen her breath with a simple kiss. But still, it is enough to bring out a blush, Caitlin suddenly fascinated with the ground below, the toe of her shoe swiping lightly over the floor underneath it.

“Yeah, I remember.” She steals a glance through her lashes, confidence growing along with his smile.

He offers her his hand, a shy smile on his face. “Well come on then, I gotta make this the best first date ever, and we can’t waste daylight.”

Her heart skips a beat at the words ‘first date’, and she cannot believe this is real life. Her hand slides into his perfectly and she feels like it was made to hold her own, Cisco running his thumb over her knuckles. It is calloused and she knows there are stories she doesn’t know, stories she’ll enjoy learning about.

And she follows him without resistance as he leads her to his car, as he drives down to Central City where the best Big Belly Burger was located.

She follows him without resistance as they both fall deeper in love with each other.

Seven years, two PhDs, two Masters and a doctorate between the pair of them, Caitlin and Cisco were still going strong. It had been difficult, with different universities and streams of studies, but they had survived the distance, had thrived in their new environment and grown stronger as a pair. But they had been brought back together, and by Professor Wells of all people. When he had started STAR Labs he had wanted experience, but he also had wanted passion and innovation and youth. He had convinced Caitlin to come back to Central City and she convinced him to hire Cisco.

(There was no convincing needed, he was already on the list).

It was exciting, finally being in the same city, in the same apartment, in the same bed. The flutter of butterflies hadn’t disappeared, not in all the years of dating him. All she needed was a smile from him early morning when the sun bathed him in a golden glow, all she needed was a hand on her shoulder at work when she was struggling through the chemical composition required to trigger a chemical reaction. All she needed was a look, a touch, a smile, and she was right back to being a teenager on her first date, to the girl manning the kissing booth, unaware of the impact it would have on her life.

He means everything to her and so, when she hears from Professor Wells that Cisco had taken a half day without telling her, she grows concerned, Caitlin counting down the minutes before rushing out the door, heading immediately to their apartment.

It is with shaky fingers she tries to out the key in the door, Cisco having not responded to any of her texts. A sigh of relief leaves her as it finally, finally, slips into the hole, the door swinging open.

And she’s left standing at the entrance, shocked still at the sight before.

There is a booth at the entrance of their apartment, red fabric forming a tent, blocking off everything else except for the neon sign in front of her.

Fiancee booth. Entrance fee: your heart.

Caitlin fails to stifle the gasp that escapes her, hands moving belatedly to cover her mouth, breath hitching as the magnitude of what is about to happen hits her. It has her heart thundering in her chest, and she can’t get it under control, can barely make herself inhale oxygen.

She drops her stuff by the door, trembling fingers pulling the curtain aside so she could enter the tent. There are tears before she ever sees him, electronic candles around the structure, setting the atmosphere. And there he is, kneeling in the middle, Cisco dressed up in a tuxedo, an open velvet box outstretched in his hands, an anxious smile on his face as her gaze falls to the diamond ring in the box.

“Cisco.” It’s all she can manage, Caitlin left a blubbering mess at the sight before her. She drops to her knees before him immediately and so easily, the need to be closer to him, to be right by his side one she had accepted long ago. And he drops the box to his side, hands lifting up to cup her face, thumbs swiping across her cheekbones, calloused finger pads sending shivers through her. He’s shaking, thumb stuttering in its movements, even as she leans into his touch, Caitlin soaking everything about the moment in. He only stops to wipe his thumb against the thighs of his pants, Caitlin catching the glitter of water on his skin from the glow of the candles.

And oh, she thinks. I’m crying.

“Welcome to your fiance booth Cait, you enter alone and leave with a fiance.” His voice trembles and his eyes are shining.

“Should I be worried about the line that was behind me,” she jokes, a weak smile on her face.

But it is enough, Cisco relaxing, a chuckle leaving him as he shakes his head at her words. “It’s only for you Cait, my heart is only for you.” His voice is more steady and she can’t help herself, Caitlin tilting her head, a lingering kiss pressed against the inside of his wrist. She holds her lips there, the feeling of his pulse underneath her skin sending chills through her. The tears start to well up once more, the sight of Cisco blurring before her, and she whispers her confession of love against his skin.

His other hand strokes the other side of her face, Cisco tucking the hair behind her ear so that he could continue. And she wants to pause moment, wishes it were possible just spend her life as happy as she was in this singular moment of time, her heart threatening to burst from joy.

She mourns the loss of contact, Cisco eventually letting go of her face, Caitlin no longer crying. And he picks up the box. There isn’t a question of her response, she had known it for years now, had only waited for the right time. The temptation is there to nod, to say ‘yes’ and slide the ring on her finger in that moment, the seconds going by without her being his fiancee almost agonising. But she knows Cisco, knows he prepared this night for so long, and she can’t fathom interrupting him in it.

"I love you,” he breathes, and crap, crap, crap, that’s all he needs to say for the tears to restart, the adoration evident in his voice. She wipes the tears away desperately, paws at her cheeks, cursing her emotion. Because he pauses and she just wants him, wants him to ask the question, wants to tell him yes, wants it all now.

“I love you too Cisco,” she sniffles, a smile on her lips and the tears finally stop, her vision to Cisco, just Cisco. She can see his nervous grin and she wants to kiss it all away.

“I’ve loved you for so long Cait, ever since I kissed this incredible girl at a kissing booth and she thought I had a cool shirt. I knew then there wouldn’t be any one else who would come close to you.” She whimpers at his words and she knew it too, knew her life wouldn’t be anywhere as incredible if she didn’t have him to share it with. Her heart aches for him, for the tremble in his voice as he tells her these words. “I never thought it’d be possible for you to like me back, to love me back. But by some miracle you did, you do, and I thank God for that every single day, thank Him that you’re the first thing I can see in the morning, the last thing I see at night. I thank Him because you’re my soulmate Cait, there isn’t any one in the world I could love like I love you. You make me happy Caitlin Snow, so very, incredibly happy and you have my heart, my soul, you have all of me.” It hurts, physically hurts, to stay still and listen as Cisco talks, Caitlin itching to hug him, to pepper his face with kisses, to show him just how happy he makes her. He had always been more eloquent with matters of the heart. But she doesn’t, forces herself to wait for him to ask that question with bated breath, her heartbeat stuttering as he opens himself up to her. “I’m yours, I always have, always will be. I’m just hoping that you’re mine -” She’s already nodding at his words, the smile spreading across her lips, “ - and that you’ll be okay making it official.” He proffers up the ring to her, Cisco offering her a smile that makes her fall in love with him all over again. “Will you marry me Cait?”

She nods, laughs in glee as he slides the ring on her finger, Caitlin pouncing on him, pinning him to the ground as she hovers above him. She takes the moment to pause, to absorb this and him and she hadn’t seen it coming all those years ago when she agreed to help Iris with her fundraiser. He looks so beautiful she thinks, memorising the sight of Cisco on his back, hands by his head, fingers interlocked with her own. He looks up at her, smile splitting his face in half, and she can’t contain her sigh. “Do you think that we would have got together if we didn’t do the kissing booth?”

The words slip out absentmindedly, Caitlin unaware she was even thinking it until she hears the words come from her mouth. Cisco tilts his head, the hair splayed against the floor underneath him. “I dunno Cait, I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t. There’s no point in torturing myself like that because I have you. God, I still can’t believe you said yes,” he chuckles, awe and adoration in his gaze. “I don’t think there is a universe out there that doesn’t have you and me together.” He says the words so simply, but the force of it against her heart, it is overpowering.

He’s beautiful and he’s smart and he’s sweet and he’s kind. And he’s mine.

It is a fiance booth, but they still got their kisses.

No blindfold necessary.

#killervibe #caitlin snow #cisco ramon #the flash #the flash fic #ruthie writes #y'all this was fluff okay #i wrote fluff #it's a damn miracle #fun-fact - this was supposed to be my entrance for the 'free day' on killervibe week last year #i wrote 4-5k and missed the date and never got back to the fic #.... prolly cause its fluff and i struggle with that #title is the song 'strawberry kisses' by nikki webster #also THIS SONG WAS MY JAM IN 2003 AND EARLIER #I LOVE IT #literally edited the fic so i could use that as my song title #im sorry about cisco's proposal btw #the hell if i knew what i was going on about #killer vibe

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