#this memory scene hurts me the most
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Happy 38th Anniversary to the game that gave me so many emotions
#this memory scene hurts me the most#loz#legend of zelda#botw#breath of the wild#zelink#botw zelink#my art
118 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bumblebee Week Day 4 - Secret
I've been here waiting for the longest time I can't believe it's real You lose the battles that you never fight Can't hide from what you feel (Come on!) No more compromise This is do or die And now you've crossed the line You'll wake the beast inside No more compromise This is do or die I'll warn you one last time You'll wake the beast inside!
Song: Sonic Frontiers OST - Break Through It All
#bumblebeeweek2023#bumblebee#transformers#maccadam#my art#sparkpulse au#i love how this art comes after the bad day art bc this is what happen when you dont learn the lesson and keep poking the beast with a stic#this is probably the worst time for Bee as he was trapped first and then seriously injured and then his spark shattered into pieces#and this fight was a huge mess because even his allies were confused and thought Bumblebee got corrupted and Windblade was unconscious#so she couldn't tell anyone to stop fighting Bee bc its literally just him#so Bee is very upset and he's hurt bc all his terribly memories rushed into his minds and remembering what exactly happened#meanwhile receiving help from below from another planet titan as she thought he was in danger#and she gave him some of resources so he can take on his actual form#anyways this is probably the most dramatic and intense moment in the whole story and cant wait until I get to this#like the fact I made this story because I envisioned this scene and it stuck with me ever since
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
getting a handle on mavis is kinda 😵💫 bc on the one hand she's an empath (literally) and is shown to generally have more emotional intelligence/maturity than dr🅰️x/nebs/rocket combined, but at the same time she apparently saw no problem at all whatsoever w kidnapping kevin 🥓 for peter 😭 which is like???? i mean maybe those two things can be true at the same time but like... How. 😭 is she an empath or is she okay w taking people against their will to give as a present to her brother ?
#just some thoughts b4 bed...#ooc.#james 🔫 leaving me to have to make sense of this all like ok thanks#i do think she's somewhat Stunted in regards to social behaviour that's considered acceptable or appropriate#bc for most of her life she lived on ego's planet w literally nobody else but him and his children (her half siblings) that he kept killing#he straight up didnt even acknowledge he was her father. he had her call him Master. so like... yeah. no parenting done there#but she gets Most of that sorted out when she meets the guardians i think#(like basically she figures out how Not to act by looking at dr🅰️x and 🚀 lol)#im also 100% sure gam🅾️ra would've taught her some things woman to woman (my girl i'll avenge u from what goftg3 did to u)#so u would THINK w/ all that mavis would think twice before just straight up kidnapping a guy. but No#im gna say this is bc mavis kinda has a one track mind. what she knows is that peter is sad and she wants to cheer him up#dr🪓 gives her a solution: get peter his fave hero#she goes yay! and is so fixated on that part of it that she doesn't stop to consider the consequences#bc kevin is just. part of the goal at this point and not a person#so she's always. Always well intentioned. just sometimes doesn't think about all the angles as much as she should#does that make sense? i hope so. imc rying#well intentioned but doing fucked up things also applies to that scene where she erases dra❌'s memory#bc he's sad!!!!!!! he was hurt by something she said so she wanted to take it away!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#but she just went and took his memory of it without asking without even stopping to think if she should and that's#beautiful to me bc mavis is sweet and empathetic and she LOVES him just like she does all the other guardians#but she's fucked up too!!!!!! like the rest of them!!! just in different ways and i Love that in a woman#anyway. god. ive spoken too much in the tags. apparently i have a lot of feelings about this
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.
Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).
Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.
Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.
Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).
AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.
But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s
At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.
#mlp#yeah i wrote this last night during insomnia.#yeah i know an embarrassing amount of crap about this kids show#but whatever it's my hyperfixation i'll store as much useless information as i want!!!#i'm gay and neurodivergent i have an excuse#in case you needed more proof that aj's my favorite character#personal#delete later#unless you like this analysis stuff#i get why they didn't reveal aj's parent's death until way later and why they didn't do much with it but i wish they did#cuz narratively there could've been so much material with aj's grief. like. i feel like we gloss over the fact that she lost her#mother and father as a teenager#i tried keeping my personal hcs out of this to keep it unbiased#but i'll put some in the tags#involving rarijack –– i think aj can be (but not always) very self-conscious about her relationship with rarity#anxieties that she's not the right fit or that rarity will move away and leave her some day or that another woman will take her attention#(like in rollercoaster of friendship?? nudge nudge??). basic seperation anxiety stuff#long post#regarding applebloom whenever i think about her and her parents i think about that scene in steven universe where steven looks up at#a portrait of his mother and openly wonders what kind of sack lunches she would've made for him. that episode still fucks me up
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy
Part 4: “Girl Problems”
You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.
With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.
“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.
As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.
Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?
The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.
“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.
You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.
Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.
John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?
With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.
>> ok so this is terrible
>> im so sorry
>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom
>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional
Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.
J >> How can I help?
>> i dont have any products on me
>> meant to stock the bathroom
>> sorry
J >> Stop apologizing
J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street
You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.
It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”
You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“
“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”
You snort. “Yeah…”
“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”
“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.
You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.
You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“
“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.
You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”
“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”
John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”
When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.
You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.
If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.
A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.
#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#141 x reader#task force 141#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x reader#captain john price#captain price#john price x reader#john price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#cod#call of duty#fem reader#plus size reader#fat reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
My unpopular (why) opinion is that Toshiro's and Falin's relationship (platonic obviously) is quite beautiful and if fans weren't so odd about shipping they'd see how very sweet it is that Toshiro started liking Falin when he realised she's an odd but gentle person, when he felt a sense of kinship that he likely never felt before.
From what we see they got along, Falin has a positive opinion of him, on the few instances when we actually see them talk (beyond just memories of them talking but no actual dialogue being shown to us) it's obvious she feels comfortable enough to be completely honest and transparent with him, while still minding his feelings. She likes the guy well enough, she doesn't want to hurt him.
The marriage proposal is actually so interesting... The way they communicate with each other. Falin let's Toshiro down gently, and reveals something so intimate about herself, how she's behaved until now, what she wants to do in the future, that she'd like to visit him again!
And Toshiro is so gentle. He obviously cares about her so much (and water is wet BUT im talking specifically about how it's portrayed in this scene). If what Maizuru says is true, that was the second time he made a "selfish" request ("marry me and come with me") but he simply asks this from her and offers reassurances, "I'll make sure you're comfortable", but he's not you know the Hardass some people pretend he is.
And what I love the most... When she rejects him not only does he accept it gracefully, he's inspired by her declaration that she wants to be more independent. Why did Falin say that? To spare his feelings further? Or because she knew that this realisation, which meant so much to her, would resonate with Toshiro too?
Gonna get personal but. I'm aroace, hello. I've had a few friendships go to shit because someone confessed to me and I rejected them. And exactly one where the person accepted it gracefully and our friendship, after surviving an awkward moment, blossomed.
Like. Relationships CHANGE, and they can develop and deepen and strengthen in many ways, regardless of the dynamic they take on. When aspecs say "friendship can be as important as romance" one of the things we mean is, allow romantic love to go back to platonic love and be stronger regardless OR EVEN because of it.
Like. How beautiful, that these two recognised a bit of themselves in each other, and knew how to approach the other. How beautiful that Ryoko tells us "their friendship survived a rejected proposal, when the commonly used trope would've made their friendship unviable from then on".
How beautiful that narratively Toshiro's sacrifice is never played for laughs or made fun of or devalued because """he didn't get the girl""', but instead the manga says "it didn't pan out but it wasn't a pointless sacrifice because Toshiro genuinely cared for Falin as a person, and always did what he thought was best even when it went against his normal behaviour." How beautiful that Falin wants to meet his friend Toshiro again, that she thinks to tell him "I'm going to start being an active participant in my own life" and Toshiro thinks "I think I need to start doing that too".
How beautifullll that a rejection ended with a promise to meet again, it's so beautiful am I insane? Can someone hear me hello?
The love was there and it mattered, but it's even better. The love shifts and survives because the care is genuine, because when you truly care about a person you'll want them in your life in whatever dynamic suits everyone involved the best. Because love, whether romantic or platonic or a mix of something else entirely, is selfless.
#rambles#toshiro nakamoto#Nakamoto Toshiro#TL;DR I LOVE THE REJECTION AND THE FACT THAT IT'S USED TO IMPLY WHERE BOTH CHARACTERS NEED TO GO IN ORDER TO GROW#I LOVE THAT FRIENDSHIP PREVAILS.... MLP WAS RIGHT YALL#falin touden#nervous about tagging Falin BUT i trust that the real fans will see what i mean#dungeon meshi#dunmesh meta#Toshiro Nakamoto you are SO demi. get behind me and the pack of lesbians you call your friends go smell a flower go look at a bug.#shuro#shurofali#shulin#<- platonic
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey not sure if your currently taking requests but I just wanted to I soooooo stoked that you write for Remy! I've been starved for years cuz there's like no fan fics for him😭.
anyway I was wondering if you could do like a fic or headcannon where gambit somehow got hurt on a mission and is on bed rest but is also like really horny because you wont have sex with his since hes hurt.
If not that's fine I just thought it up and thought it would be hilarious 😂. Anyway luv your work, keep it up😘
NSFW!Gambit/AFAB!Reader
MMMMMHHHMMMMMM BESTIE UR MIND. ABSOLUTE GENIUS. I hope that you don't mind I did make it NSFW there at the end but the majority is just teasing our favorite gambler. Also, This is for the folks who were also really attracted to that one scene in criminal minds with the bulletproof vest. iykyk.
TWs: teasing, sexual innuendos, explicit smut, Handjobs, Mutual masturbation, PNV sex. Raw sex. (Wrap it bf you tap it yall) Creampie. Reader written with Fem! pronouns.
"Asolutetly not." You're quick to say it. Gambit pouts as the words leave your mouth, still on the infirmary bed with all the wires and doodads still hooked up to him. He's giving you those scoundrel puppy eyes that he knows you usually give in to, but you're not willing to budge this time.
"No, Remy. I will not be-" You take a quick glance around the room, leaning in a little closer as you begin to whisper-yell at him. "-I will not be having sex with you right now!" Remy sighs in a pitiful way leaning against the headboard in your direction. You can’t begin to look him in the eyes right now, instead lightly pushing his face away from your spot, sitting close to his bed on a chair that you had moved from the corner. His pout turns into an amused smile, as he instead takes your hand in his own, moving it down to press a kiss to your palm. You try not to blush at him. You’re supposed to be standing strong, dammit!
"Come on, Chère. S' not like it's gonna make Gambit hurt any worse-” You cut him off by lightly slapping his abdomen. Remy immediately flinches, curling in on himself with a pained groan. You feel a little guilty afterward, flattening your palm to rub the area soothingly.
“Yes, it would. Remy, I could seriously hurt you. You heard beast, any vigorous activity could rip your stitches.” You say, moving to where you can sit on the bed, facing him. You cup the side of his face, gently moving stray locks out of the way. He rolls his eyes, not at you, but at the memory of the talking-to he got when he had woken up in the infirmary.
“Never stopped me before. Since I been with the X-men it’s like everythin’ become a big deal. So what if I rip a few stitches here an’ there?” Remy grumbles. You give him a stern look, before leaning in to kiss his temple. He melts into your touch.
“It is a big deal, Remy. You need to heal. End of discussion.” You say gently. Remy thinks on it for a moment, before giving you a slight smirk.
“And by “end of discussion” you really mean “Until Gambit tempts me into bed”, Right?” He says. You roll your eyes at him before standing. If that’s the attitude he’s going into these next weeks with, you know for a fact he’s going to be insufferable.
You were right. The incoming weeks were almost as much torture to you as they most definitely were to him. Wherever you went in the mansion, Gambit was sure to follow. He’d be in the kitchen while you would be cooking, unable to help due to doctor's orders, but no one ever said that he had to stay out of the kitchen. He’s come up behind you, snaking his arms around your hips as he’d “Give you pointers”. He’d lean close and whisper in your ear, sometimes giving it a nip or two. But one thing about Gambit is that every time you turned him away, or laughed at him and told him to sit down, he’d get pouty.
That was a trend that continued. He’d deliberately go out of his way to tease you, on movie night, in the library, in the showers even. And every time, despite how hot under the collar you might have been, you turned him away. The more bothered you seemed to be however, his pouts turned into smirks. Eventually, you got fed up with it. You were trying to be a good girlfriend and make sure Remy didn’t hurt himself, but if he was going to be a brat about it, you could be a brat too.
You started off a little more subtly than Remy did. Lingering touches here and there, kissing him just long enough to leave him wanting. You’d wear just a tad less clothing around him, or wear slightly lower-cut tops. You were beginning to realize just how easy it was to get him riled up.
One particular day, the tension was thick in the air, having coalesced into something barely breathable. Remy was lying back on the bed on his elbows as you redressed his wound, making sure to spread ointment onto the healing stitches and care for the skin. You frequently found yourself drawn to the sight of his lower abs, the large bruise having begun to yellow as it healed. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen his skin in a while, but the sight of him had you breathing a little funny. Remy was also a little quieter than normal, unable to look away from your gentle hands as you took care of him.
Once you finished, you lingered by his side, a hand pressed against his chest. You look up to find him already watching you, but neither of you says anything. You purse your lips, debating on whether or not you’re doing what you think you’re about to do. Remy tilts his head at you questioningly. He opens his mouth to speak but fails to do so as your hand trails down to his waistband. He takes a shocked breath through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he’s looking at you again through a lustful haze.
“Thought you said-”
“Shut up.” You sigh, cutting him off. Remy smirks at you, biting his lip. You roll your eyes, caressing the crotch of his pants a few times before you begin to slip them off of him.
“Don’t get too excited.” You whisper, but really it sounds more like a needy sigh. “Just a handy, okay?” Gambit huffs a laugh at you, but doesn’t tease. He's practically bucking his hips into your hand when you finally take hold of his cock, stroking him to hardness. You can’t seem to look away from the sight, watching as his abdomen clenches with every stroke from base to tip. You twist your hand on the upstroke, listening as Remy lets out a curse and a sudden moan just as you thumb his head, collecting his abundant precum as you use it to stroke back down again.
“You’re really pent up, huh?” You ask in a heated whisper. Remy’s head is tilted back in pleasure, and he huffs in amusement as he cracks an eye open at you. His hand slides up your thigh, Your legs being pressed against each other tightly to find some friction. You gasp as he suddenly slides two of his fingers up the inside seam of your pants, and you can practically feel yourself get wetter at the touch.
“Looks like I’m not the only one.” Remy hums. You can’t seem to pull away from him as he continues to stroke you. The air is hardly breathable, and the burning in your chest and your core starts to become too hot to ignore.
“Fuck it.” You say. Remy is confused when you let go of him, only to break into a wide smile when he realizes you were beginning to strip. The shirt is first to go, before your bra, and then your jeans and underwear. Remy wolf-whistles at the sight, and you wave him off, embarrassed.
“Couldn’t stay away from the temptation of Remy LeBeau, Now could you Chère?” Remy muses. He’s such a goof. You try to hide your smile as you carefully straddle his legs, making sure to avoid his sore spots. One of his hands holds onto your upper thigh, the other making its way to your center. He strokes you languidly with his fingers before circling your slit and pushing two inside. You suck in a breath, careful to set your hands on his shoulders without putting any weight onto them.
“Looks like this pretty pussy missed me as much as I missed you,” Remy says breathlessly. His eyes flicker from your cunt up to your bare breasts, and then to your flushed face. You feel like you’re falling apart too quickly, already climbing that high as he fingers you with those hands you love so much.
“Remy,” You call for him breathlessly. “ m’ not gonna last too long.” Remy can't help himself any longer, and pulls you closer to catch you in a passionate kiss. He drags his teeth across your bottom lip, letting go of the plush skin. He doesn't withdraw his fingers until your thighs begin to shake and you start to clench down on him. You whine as he does so, barely holding your composure. Remy takes your hand off of his cock, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before gently dragging your hips further into his lap. Your mind is hazy, but you know to be careful as he lines himself up.
“If we're going to do this, we're taking it my speed, okay?” You say. Remy nods, barely taking in the information. He was ready to be inside you. After weeks of nothing- all he could think about was you. Your giggles, your smiles. Your body. The way you taste on his tongue. The feeling of your thighs clenching around his head. Remy would do anything you asked of him at this moment.
You take it slow as you lower yourself down on his cock. The stretch of him feels delicious against your inner walls. Remy leans in, kissing and sucking on your breasts as you take your time. He bottoms out with a wet sound, his hands resting against your upper thighs.
Remy curses as you begin to move, bouncing on his cock somewhat slowly. Even in the haze of your lust, you're worried about hurting him. Remy, on the other hand, doesn't share the same sentiment. His hands clench around your thighs, and when he can't seem to take the slow speed anymore, he slams you down onto him.
You gasp at the action, and apologies spill from his lips as he tilts you forward, knocking your balance so you're forced to lean onto him as he controls the pace, eagerly thrusting into your heat.
“Remy-” Your protests are cut off with a kiss as your favorite scoundrel begins to take exactly what he wants. His grunts and moans beneath you send another trickle of warmth inside of you. To be honest, seeing him take control like this was hot- almost hot enough for you to forgive the fact that he was certainly overexerting himself- but it was hard to be mad at him when he's fucking you so good.
One thing about Remy is that he's a talker in bed. If anything, you were surprised he was as “quiet” as he had been the majority of the time. But once he started to get closer to his peak, Remy began to ramble.
"You think you're smart? -Ah! Teasing me like that.. mmh… expecting me to just take it?" You're not really paying attention to his words, nodding in response while only thinking about his steady grip on your thighs and ass and the peak you're reaching so quickly. Remy squeezes you harder, almost harshly as he begins to take you faster. His hips begin to stutter, thrusts starting to do him in one by one.
Remy lets out a loud groan as he reaches his peak, burying himself deeply inside you and thumbing your clit. He continues to thrust as he helps you reach that white-hot peak of pleasure, pressing kisses to your temple as you ride it out on top of him. By the time you're both fully finished, you're panting for air. You're fully collapsed onto Remy's chest, Remy being absolutely boneless as he rests against the headboard.
“You’re such an idiot.” You say when you finally have enough sense. Remy just chuckles, continuing to press kisses to every part of your face and neck he can reach. You sigh happily as he does so, pressing some of your own kisses to his shoulder.
When you finally peel yourself off of his chest, the first thing you check in on is his bandages. You scowl when you see that they've been soaked through with sweat, but more concerning is the spot of red that has started to form. You look up at Remy with narrowed eyes, and he quickly looks down as well, before looking back up at you and simply shrugging with a gleeful smile.
“Casualty of love, Chère.”
#Sorry I actually lied by accident#But hurray! He came right on time ;)#x men 97#x men#x men comics#x men 97 x reader#gambit#gambit x reader#remy lebeau#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau smut#remy lebeau imagine#remy lebeau headcannons#x men remy lebeau#gambit smut#gambit imagine#x men gambit#x men headcannons
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Wake up call
Agathario x reader
Another scene I'm deeply in love with is Agatha and Rio's fight happening in the first episode. So, here it is what would happen with r joining it.
pt. 2
Rio leaned closer to Agatha with a lopsided grin, “I’ve missed you,” she purred, tracing her former lover’s jawline with the curved blade in her hand.
Agatha’s chest rose and fell, an expression of pure hatred flashed upon her blue eyes, mingled with a hint of something else, mabe fear. “I hate you.”
Rio lolled her head back and laughed bitterly, “course, you do.”
The day you and Agatha vowed to never see her face anymore, her heart shattered until nothing was left of it. But she was Lady Death, meaning that no matter what you wanted, someday your paths would cross again and that’s what kept her going.
You had just parked in the driveway, when an explosion coming from inside the house alerted you. On your way back from the grocery store, your memories came back one by one, and you almost hit a pedestrian or two at the realization that you and Agatha had been trapped under a spell for about three years. And now that you were ‘awake’, you were pretty sure she was too. You quickly got out of the car and stepped inside, silently praying that Agatha was okay.
Last person you thought you’d see was Rio.
“Drop the dagger now,” your voice came out sharp and dangerous.
Both witches snapped their heads towards you. Your eyes locked with Agatha’s first. She breathed a sigh of relief at your sight, her blue orbs filled with all sorts of thoughts.
“Hello, mi nena,” Rio quipped, tone softening at the sight of you. “Glad you’re awake too. Agatha and I were just.. catching up, right?”
You took a step closer, keeping your eyes on Rio. “I see– rude of you to start without me,” there was a hint of sarcasm in your voice, that both witches grasped. “Now, don’t make me repeat myself, you know I hate it.”
“Uhm, I don’t know.” Instead of listening to you, Rio pushed the blade deeper against Agatha. The witch struggled to keep the blade at distance, trembling while doing so.
Your hands turned into fists, a gust of wind rose up around you. Objects started levitating, the chandelier in the lounge room swayed and Agatha’s lips curled upwards, happy to realize your powers were still part of you.
The vibrancy of your magic brought back all sorts of memories of the time you three spent together. “Looks like our sweet girl over there is in control of her powers. How does it feel, Agatha?” Rio asked in a mocking tone. “Don’t you resent her like you resent me?”
The purple witch was quick to shake her head, scoffing to herself at the same time.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
When she looked at you, she saw one of the most incredible witches she ever had the pleasure to meet.
“You’re nothing like her.”
Rio let out a whiny sound, “why does she get special treatment and I don’t, huh?”
In the meantime, your irises turned the same color of your magic, a bright hue of silver and enveloped your entire body as well.
“She did everything she could, while you–” she winced when the tip of the dagger pressed further against her skin. “What, huh? What are you blaming me for? I’m the natural order of all the things baby, and you know it. You always knew it!”
When she pushed the blade further closer to her skin, Agatha’s grip on Rio’s wrists loosened and the dagger scraped her. While Rio grinned at the sight of Agatha’s blood flowing so deliciously from her collarbone to her chestline, you levitated from the floor and your palms opened wide, exploding with your magic.
“You’re nothing!”
Rio let out a strangled yelp, as her body was thrown on the other side of the corridor. Agatha let out a sigh of relief, mouthing a fragile thank you in your direction as you rushed towards her. You didn’t say anything at first and simply hugged her, your heart thumping in your chest at incredible speed.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, but you knew better. While that small cut wasn’t anything serious, you knew the pain in her heart was greater. You pressed your lips together, giving her a skeptical look. With a flick of your finger, you healed the wound on her skin, and for some reason, it made Agatha feel even worse, but she didn’t say anything to you.
Rio pulled herself up, stretching both arms and legs, “Ahw, did she make it better?”
Agatha growled, fingers wiggling as if she could actually summon magic.
You immediately stood in front of her, “don’t come any closer,” you warned her.
The Green Witch hummed and her brows knitted in a frown, “where did I see this scene before?”
You swallowed thickly at the painful memories she was able to bring back with such ease. You had so many questions going on inside your head, the most important would probably be, why? Why the betrayal, why the lies, why the pain?
“Cut the crap, Rio,” Agatha snapped, worrying about your sudden discomfort, “what do you want?”
She fake pouted at her angry tone, “you used to be much nicer to me,” with the tip of the blade, she moved a strand of hair from her face. And when you scoffed, a dark shadow passed through her eyes, “I’m just missing the old days. I want you back– in a way or another, meaning that if I have to kill you both, I will,” she added the last part with a strange look in her eyes. Almost hysterical. You only had a couple of seconds to react. Rio’s dagger flew in your direction, missing you and Agatha by a nose, as you shoved her to the side, shielding her with your body.
Agatha grunted at the sound of Rio’s giggles, “I’m gonna kill her.”
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, ��it’s not possible, unfortunately.”
Propping yourself up, you helped Agatha do the same.
While doing so, you spotted the dagger behind you. You pointed at it to Agatha with a nod of your head. She was closer to the weapon so she lunged forward to grab it. Rio ignored her and focused on you. She gave you little time to anticipate her move and with a yelp she sprung forward, fuelled by her magic. Before you knew it, her fingers tightened around your neck and squeezed.
Her head lolled to the side, and watched you with a mixture of nostalgia and admiration, “naughty, naughty–”
“Let her go!” Before Agatha could even make an attempt to stab Lady Death on the shoulder, Rio sent her flying in the lounge room, her back hitting a cabinet that after the impact, crashed on top of her.
Your eyes snapped open, as you squirmed but to no avail, “Agatha!”
“Do you remember pain, my love?”
“I never stopped feeling it since the day you betrayed us.”
You still resented her for the things she did. And you probably would for the rest of your life. Her face dimmed and her lips pursed into a grimace; the grip around your neck loosened, but she didn’t let go. Was that disappointment settling in her chest?
“You’re so clueless about the things I did for you.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, but despite them a choked chuckle slipped from your lips. She did nothing for you, nor for Agatha and even less for Nicky. She only took, betrayed your trust and hurt you in the most inexplicable way.
“All you did was make things worse.”
Rio snarled at your accusation,“you knew that messing with the Fates wasn’t without consequences!”
Your answer came out in a faint, yet determined whisper, “you were the one to send the Furies my way.”
In the meantime, Agatha straightened herself out, wincing at the pain in her arms, as shreds of glass cut through her skin. She scanned the surroundings in search of something, anything that could be used against Rio. While her eyes landed on a wooden tray, Rio blasted you against the wall behind you with full demoniac force, her voice distorted as well, sounding deeper and animalistic, “I had no other choice!”
Agatha mentally screamed at the chunks of plaster coming down at you.
You whimpered, feeling Rio’s body towering over yours, “sorry, did it tickle too much?”
Despite the dizziness, you found the sassiness to roll your shoulders, “No.” With the corner of your eye, you spotted Agatha coming your way, holding something in her hands. Realizing what it was made you almost chuckle. “But I bet this will.”
Before Rio could ask you what you meant, the purple witch hit the back of her head with an angry growl and a deadly stare in the eye.
“Dark Mother, I’m so sick of her,” she muttered, glancing back at you.
You chuckled briefly, before erupting into a fit of coughs. Your throat felt on fire because of Rio. You were pretty sure it was bruising already for how much she squeezed. Agatha kneeled in front of you, her fingers hovering over your neck, but barely touching it, for fear of causing you extra pain, “I’m sorry about–”
“Don’t. The ‘s’ word isn’t allowed,” you chided her softly. She nibbled the inside of her cheek, blinking back the tears from her eyes. She hated feeling powerless, even more now considering you could really use some of her purple as backup.
Noticing the veil of sadness in her eyes, you tried to cheer her up, giving her a playful nudge, “what you did was rather hot by the way.”
She snorted out a laugh, “are you turned on, love?”
A playful smirk tugged at your lips, “maybe.”
She pulled you closer, tugging at the fabric of your blouse. Her forehead adhered against yours and you closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to inhale her sweet. Her hand ran from your collarbone up to your chin, her thumb gently grazed your bottom lip, pushing it down and making you smile. When you reopened your eyes, you took her hand in yours, and intertwined your fingers together in the attempt to brush aside all the worries you spotted in her eyes.
Rio let out a frustrated growl, “Good job, Agatha. I’m impressed. A little higher and that would have really hurt.”
On instinct, you tried to move Agatha behind you, but she resisted, making you frown.
“Ugh!” Rio swept her tongue over her lips, “the way she would throw herself in Hell for you really warms my heart.”
You said nothing because it was true. You would do the craziest things for her, just like you did for Nicky.
Agatha smacked her lips, almost laughing in her face. “Please, you don’t have a heart.”
Rio locked eyes with her, and for a moment you spotted a veil of hurt in her brown orbs. “Yes, I do,” she argued, before dropping her voice into a softer murmur, “it’s black and it beats for both of you.”
Agatha said nothing, while you couldn’t bring yourself to be quiet after that colossal lie, “you’re pathetic.”
Her gaze narrowed towards you; a flash of fury dimmed her features. “Madness turned you into a real brat. Perhaps you fancy another ride?”
You swallowed thickly and turned stiff. Those words stung painfully, there was no point in hiding it. You hated how easily she could bring back the memories of your trauma, making you feel as if you were reviving it all over again.
A single tear slipped from your eye, but you were quick to wipe it. Agatha’s hand found yours and squeezed; she felt your magic tickling her skin, it was mirroring your emotions and she knew it would burst soon.
“You’re a monster,” Agatha’s voice came out in hiss.
Then it happened. You let go of Agatha’s hand and tackled Rio on the floor. Her back hit the ground with force, and despite that, she laughed. You pinned her wrists above her head, digging your fingernails into her skin, wishing to hurt, to tear the skin apart, and make her feel even an ounce of the pain you endured because of her.
Agatha’s eyes widened both in shock and surprise at your outburst.
“My, my, aren’t you sexy when you’re mad?”
You smacked her across the face. Hard.
“Woah, okay girl–”, she conceded, calling a truce, “tell me what you want.”
“I want you to get the fuck out of my life.”
Rio lifted her chin up, a dark chuckle escaped her lips, “All roads lead to me, mi nena. Whether you like it or not, you’ll die. Why can’t we speed up the process?”
“You’re not allowed to kill us,” your voice dropped in an icy growl.
“I second that,” Agatha quipped.
Rio scoffed amusedly, “are you sure about that?” Before you could respond with another sassy remark, she headbutted you straight on the nose. You fell to the side, letting go of Rio’s wrists and allowing her to flee from your grasp. You groaned and cursed under your breath, when she kicked your side with the boot of her shoe. Agatha took you in her arms, as quickly as she could, then started crawling backwards with you firmly pressed against her chest, “you okay?”
“Fine,” you croaked out, in annoyance.
By the look on your bloody face, she realized you’d very well use a break.
But Rio seemed to have other ideas, the knife was back in her hand as she approached you.
“Wait, just wait a damn second–” Agatha held out a hand towards the Green Witch, while the other remained wrapped around your underarms.
Rio hummed and traced the tip of the blade with her fingertips.
“This isn’t what you want. Plus, I don’t have any powers so it’s not exactly a fair fight, is it?” She gave a nervous chuckle, hoping her words would buy you some time to recover. “Don’t you want us at our best?”
Rio grinned, with a devilish light in her eyes, “Horizontal, in a grave?”
“Not exactly,” she muttered, “I mean, in full control of our powers. Just let me get my purple back, let her recover and if you really want to– come back and find us.”
Your breath hitched, it was hard to breathe properly with the blood clogging your nostrils. You summoned your magic, and despite being a tad weaker, you knew it could heal you if given proper time.
“Why don’t you take mine?” Rio’s suggestion made your stomach lurch.
“That’s cute,” Agatha mused. “But you know that would kill me.”
“Then what about hers?”
It didn’t seem like a terrible idea to you. But Agatha’s answer was categorical, “No.”
You looked up at her, noticing the hesitation in her features. Maybe fear too. Truth was, she didn’t trust herself to do such a thing, not to you. You knew she found immense pleasure in sucking away powers from witches, she knew it was wrong, and for years the only reason why she did that was to keep Nicky alive. That’s the reason why you helped her do it. As a mother you could back up from your responsibilities and as a witch, you learned the hard way that in order to survive you had to do all sorts of things.
There was something about your magic that scared Agatha. You were the only necromancer witch she ever crossed paths with, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to pull away from you, once she got a taste of your forbidden magic.
Rio pursed her lips in a grimace, “you’re such a coward.”
“She isn’t,” you argued back.
When Rio finally put the dagger down, both you and Agatha frowned in confusion. “Show me, then. Blast her. Help her restore her purple.”
“We aren’t doing this, Rio,” Agatha insisted rather adamantly.
“I’d think about it before making a decision, my love,” Rio leaned closer, her voice soft and eerily calm. “You see, I'm not the only one that wishes you dead. I’d expect guests at sundown.”
You frowned at her words, “who do you mean?”
Rio’s eyes flashed with excitement. “The worst of them. The Salem Seven.”
For a moment both you and Agatha fell quiet. You felt Agatha turn still behind you, and your heart ached for her. You turned to face her, as the grip around your middle loosened.
“Hey, I’m here, Agatha,” your voice came out both firm and tender. “It’s going to be alright”
Rio laughed softly at that. She shoved your shoulder in a playful way, “I have a feeling we will meet again, very soon.”
She paused where once it stood the front door, “Hasta luego,” she waved her fingers before stepping out of the house.
You considered Rio’s words, and as much as you wished to find another solution, there wasn’t really another way to restore Agatha’s powers, especially not in such a short time.
“Maybe–”
“Don’t,” she cut you off, sharply.
You raised your hands defensively, “Fine, sorry. But I think we should at least think about it.”
When she didn’t respond, you decided to give her a moment. Pushing yourself up, your eyes darted to the mess around you. There were pieces of furniture pretty much everywhere, shreds of glass, plates and cutlery and even sections of ripped wallpaper, along with chunks of plasters, “this is not how I imagined to spend this Friday…” you hoped your little joke would put a smile on Agatha’s face, but she remained motionless.
Agatha started to regret having woken up from Wanda’s spell. Now not only was she awake, but she had no power, the Salem Seven and Rio wanted her dead, her house was falling to pieces, and on top of that, you were in potential danger because of her. The only reason why she survived the loss of Nicky was because of you. But if she lost you too…
She clenched her eyes and took a deep breath, refusing to dwell in such thoughts.
“Uhm, Agatha?” You were wrong to think nothing else could surprise you that day.
She made a hum sound, finally getting on her feet, face turned towards you.
“Why is there a gagged boy in our wardrobe?”
#agatha all along#rio vidal#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#wlw#lesbians#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#lady death
580 notes
·
View notes
Text
buddie is canonically romantic. to Me.
eddie was introduced to buck slow-motion style. buck tried to battle his inner bisexual rage for an entire episode but couldn’t stay angry at eddie’s pretty face for longer than twenty minutes — my guy folded the minute eddie extended that first olive branch. buck wistfully watched eddie and the little boy he would come to love as a son through a glass-paneled window not knowing that he’d eventually belong on the other side of that glass door. buck provided the solution to eddie’s very first on-screen struggle and wormed his way into eddie’s heart and home all in the span of one episode. without eddie asking him for any of it. buck called eddie attractive at least three times in season two alone. and then an elf called them gay and buck skipped away after hearing it. eddie gave buck the most precious thing in his life to cheer him up. and buck lost him. but eddie came back to him anyway and then gave him the second most precious thing — something he couldn’t even give his own wife — his trust. they had a lover’s spat in a grocery store. buck was treated like a grieving widow when eddie was buried underground. eddie’s memories of buck and chris were enough to pull him back from death’s cold embrace. eddie nearly bit buck's head off at the train derailment because he couldn’t stand the idea of buck risking his own life for abby. when eddie was shot, he spent the moment he thought would be his very last reaching out for his best friend. buck saved him. of course he did. eddie was planning to stick it out with a woman he knew he could never love and would never love until buck reminded him that he deserved better. buck got pistol-whipped after nearly going off on someone who threatened their eddie's child. eddie left the 118 and buck made out with his replacement. buck was in the room. buck's girlfriend talked to the woman he cheated on her with and buck never once bothered to intervene because he was too busy spending time with eddie. buck helped eddie patch up the holes in his wall. buck spent an entire season looking for the right couch to rest on and then passed out within seconds on eddie's couch. the right couch. buck was struck by lightning and eddie's hands brought him back to life. eddie couldn't look at buck while he was in a coma because it reminded him a little too much of losing his wife. but he brought christopher in anyway. of course he did. they went on a date where eddie stared at buck like he wanted to consume him. a little part of eddie died in that cemetery. eddie asked buck to perform Official Coparenting Duties with his son. buck uttered eddie's name eleven times in the episode where he discovered his bisexuality. buck was left at the curb on his first date with a man and his first priority was still the fact that he lied to his best friend. both of them actively looked like they wanted to die at the idea of nothing changing between them. eddie suggested matching couple's costumes. they sang what i like about you. buck ripped off eddie's shirt. eddie poured beer in his mouth. buck was the one to pull eddie out of the world that he tried to imagine with kim. their final scene of the season was the two of them. alone. together.
...who the hell is that? you can have my back any day. there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you. are you hurt? three minutes and seventeen seconds. comes in handy when you have a bunch of holes in your walls. you don’t have to tell me how great eddie is, i’ve known that since the first day i worked with him. what you always do. talk to him. you know how much christopher misses you? how could you. you're not around. i forgive you. you didn't end up like you. you act like you're expendable, but you're wrong. you were missed. thank you. for not giving up. he got the help he needed and that started with you. two cut lines. you don't have to be anything for anybody. can't you both be good cops? no. isn't that what we all want in a partner? knowing that they have your back? he’ll love you like we all do. i love you, i love you, i love you.
buck and eddie’s story is already a romance. regardless of their current relationship status in canon, their story is already a love story. and i wouldn't have it any other way.
#hima's post made me think about one of the first things i noticed when watching — how despite the fact that they're not canon yet#so much of it is just. love. it's all love#buddie#rae.txt
815 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chasing Cars | ch 13 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: college anxiety, angst, Gabrielle, Lisa, alcohol, cursing, mentions of cheating, a frat party, explicit content: implied sex
☆word count: 8.9k
☆a/n: more angst oop- I hope you guys like it :') thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, August 30
Summer came and went. Like everything in life, it became just a moment in time, a short movie consisting of flashing scenes of friendship and fun and sun, of pools and tanning and hikes. Summer was perfect, summer was healing, yet summer couldn’t heal everything.
Summer hasn’t healed a doe-eyed boy from your heart, but you think it’s okay. You think, perhaps your love for Jungkook is just everlasting, another one of those memories you know you’ll cherish for the rest of your life.
You reckon, if you were to have kids one day and they’d asked you who your first love was, you wouldn’t be able to answer their father.
It will always be Jungkook, no matter the bitterness and the pain of the ending.
It’s his necklace you wear on your heart every day after all.
You’ve worked all summer, amassing money to cover your expenses for the year. You’ve gone back home with Taehyung for a week your mother had off, and you spent it camping like you did when you were kids, gaze getting lost in starlight and sun rays on the water, reflections of light that left afterimages on your retina.
Much like Jungkook is an afterimage on your heart. Never fully erased, yet the pain isn’t as sharp anymore. Like the time soothed its edges, reminding you of the good part, allowing you to let go of the bad.
The first news you had of Jungkook this summer was stories posted on a Saturday evening, of him and Lisa and friends in New York City. Turns out Lisa landed an internship at an architect firm in New York through her father’s connections, and turns out it was all she needed to be welcomed into Jeon Jungkook’s world over there.
You’d been jealous back then, bitterly so. Yoongi, bless his heart, had forced you to hang out at his place, claiming the empty room needed to be repainted before Namjoon moved in for the semester. It’d been a good distraction, and by the end of the weekend, you’d realized that Jungkook was allowed to have friends, to move on from your idyllic moment in his life.
It hurt, but it was a sign of healing.
You got closer to Yoongi over the summer. Learned all about his past, about his high school and how his parents were supportive when he came out, yet reluctant when he brought his first boy home. He’d told you how he met Hoseok in his last year of high school despite not attending the same school, and how their friendship had immediately blossomed.
Only to wither in April, when Hoseok had chosen to leave. None of you or your friends have had any news of him since then, like he wiped his existence from all of your lives like it was nothing. It’s been hard for Yoongi, harshly so, so you’ve made sure to always be available for him, too.
Namjoon and Nabi’s relationship didn’t suffer such a fate. They’ve only been growing stronger over the summer, proof that despite Namjoon getting out of his relationship with his ex and jumping in the one with Nabi right away, they were meant for each other. In truth, you’ve never seen anyone love each other like Namjoon and Nabi do, and maybe that most of all has healed your bleeding heart.
There has to be someone out there who’ll love you like you’re the one who paints his every sunset.
Seokjin wasn’t on the receiving end of such a relationship. He’d confessed to Ria halfway through the summer, telling her that he couldn’t do the see-saw anymore, that he needed everything or nothing, and in good Ria fashion, your friend ran. She ran and ran, until Seokjin told her he was ashamed of having believed she deserved to be loved.
The blow has been hard on Ria, and she hasn’t been with anyone since then. Hasn’t mentioned Seokjin once either, but you know that, whenever you go out, he’s the one she’s looking for.
The strangest part of this summer happened on a random Tuesday evening when you’d just come home from work. Taehyung and Ariane, ever so the lovebirds, had been hanging out in the living room when you’d crossed the threshold. Taehyung’s gaze had shot to you, and he’d uttered words you think have been carved into your brain.
“Did you know Jungkook is the heir of JJS pharmaceuticals?”
You did. You knew about his father’s company - he’d told you once when you’d been lying with your head on his chest, one of the rare times he’d talked about his family after your weekend escapade to New York.
But you knew Jungkook’s existence had been mostly a secret, his father refusing to announce his existence to the world because Jungkook had refused to study at an Ivy League College.
At the confusion on your face - or rather, the masked pain you’d been hiding for weeks and months - Taehyung had added, “There was a conference press, and he’s all over social media.”
He was. You found out quickly enough, articles and articles about him showing up on your Instagram as well. You’d seen pictures from the press conference: though his father had been smiling wide, Jungkook had only been staring at the camera, like he’d wished he could disappear.
You don’t know what led him to accept a position at his father’s company before he’d even graduated, but you knew then and know now that it had to not have been his choice.
So indeed, summer came and went until it became just a memory, and the new semester now looms over the horizon, a reminder that though your skin might have been sunkissed these last few months, it’s now time to return to reality.
You’re sitting in the kitchen, indulging in Buldak noodles as you read a book about Faes and High Lords and a Night Court. You’ve started reading again over the summer, another way to escape that helped fill your breaks at work when you didn’t go out for lunch with your coworkers. It was nice to reconnect with your previous love for reading - indeed, you’d spent years in middle school and high school getting lost in fantasy and dystopian worlds, and recovering this part of you might have been another way to heal.
It’s reminded you that every story is worth telling, even those that don’t end well.
So you sit at the kitchen table, halfway done with your noodles, when the front door opens and closes.
“Hello!” you greet out of reflex.
Taehyung and Ariane were out shopping for groceries, and though they haven’t left a long time ago, you assume it’s them coming home.
“Do you need any help?” you ask as no one replies, which is strange.
They’re always talking about everything and nothing, joking around like they’re the only people in the world. It’s something you do find cute, but that always grates your nerves in all the wrong ways.
Where Nabi and Namjoon have been making you feel hopeful when it comes to love, Taehyung and Ria have made you jaded too.
The silence prolongs, and you don’t even hear them taking off their shoes. You furrow your brows, wondering if they’re trying to prank you. So you put your book down even though you are in the middle of a good scene, and you push up from the table, heading towards the kitchen’s doorway.
You reckon, maybe you should have expected it. You’d known he was coming back at some point - he still has a year left of college. But you didn’t think he’d show up on an early Friday evening, clutching his duffel bag and standing by the door like he’s a guest in his own home.
He’s changed. The first thing you notice is that he’s changed: he doesn’t have the eyebrow piercing anymore, his hair is shorter - almost entirely shaved at the sides - and though he still has the lip piercings, he looks different than what you remember.
As if a few months was enough to blur your memories of Jeon Jungkook, and the wound you’d thought to be healed over the last few months reopens, pouring liquid lava on your entire body until you think you’re burning, and not in a good way.
He’s dressed in all black, like some things don’t change after all. He looks more built than he was last semester, like he’s gone to the gym a lot more over the summer. His tattoos have also changed - they’ve been coloured, some of them, as if he tried to put colours back into his life.
You hope it worked. But when you hold his gaze, the heaviness making you want to disappear through the floor, you think maybe it didn’t work at all.
“Y/n,” he greets.
His voice has changed too. Or maybe it’s just the emotions, maybe it’s just the fact that the last thing he ever told you were those words in the letter you keep hidden in your night table, words you’ve romanticized every night trying to fall asleep.
Not that you would tell anyone.
“Jungkook,” you reply in the same tone.
He nods once, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he takes off his shoes. You watch him, dumbly standing in the doorway, and he shoots you a look once his shoes - black boots that look far too warm for the summer - are off.
“How are you?”
His three words throw you off. They make you feel like last semester might have been a construct of your imagination, but then again you hold that letter too dearly, and the memories of him have been your favourites for months now.
“I’m okay,” you reply, nodding once. “How are you?”
He pulls on his piercings, the gesture familiar yet so different than how you’ve been imagining it every night. “I’m chill.”
He starts to walk towards his room, but he stops halfway there, glancing over your head into the kitchen.
“Want something to eat?” you ask, and you wonder if he hears your heart as it picks up in your chest.
You see the moment he spies the Buldak noodles on the table. He smiles softly, with his eyes first, and you think maybe this is it.
Maybe he came back home.
Came back home to you.
But then his features fall, the smile vanishing and darkness invading his gaze. He shakes his head no, nodding towards his room. “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”
You watch him walk the rest of the way towards his bedroom. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he freezes there. His shoulders tense, and even though you don’t see his features, you know he wants to say something else.
You hope he will, hope he’ll say something that might mend the bridge between the two of you. That might erase this abyss between you and him until the ending disappears.
You know it’s because you haven’t seen him in a long time. Know that, when it all comes down to it, you wouldn’t go back to him - he broke your heart, and you’d be a fool to return to him. But you like to imagine that you would as he stands there, that you’d run to him if he turned and said the right words.
But he doesn’t. He sighs, and then he walks into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. And as he disappears from view, you feel yourself stumble, like you’ve taken a hit right to the chest. You lay a hand over your beating heart, almost expecting to feel blood trickling through your fingers.
As if he’s just broken your heart all over again, torn it from your ribcage. Yet it breaks - you didn’t think he still had that power over you.
Hell, you thought you’d been moving on.
You walk back into the kitchen, the room spinning around you. You drop in the chair you were sitting in before, eyeing your book. And though you want to get lost in the fantasy world again, you’re bleeding out on your chair, pain burning along every single one of your nerves.
How are you supposed to share a roof with the one that broke your heart?
The answer is easy. You can’t.
You need to get out of here, and quickly.
Monday, September 2nd
Your first day back to college is long. You’ve got two classes - a morning and an afternoon class, both of them three hours long.
When the second one ends - luckily half an hour early ‘because it’s the first day’ as the professor said - you make your way out of class with Nabi. She’s typing away on her phone, likely asking Namjoon when he’ll be home, yet she follows you as you head to the dorms.
You’ve been crashing at the girls’ dorm over the weekend, as you try to figure out what you should do. You haven’t figured anything yet - Taehyung’s been telling you that you shouldn’t move out, asking if it’s because of Ariane moving in, and though you’ve been good at avoiding mentioning Jungkook, there’s just so much you can do before you burst and admit that it’s because of him.
But it’s okay - Nabi’s been staying with Yoongi and Namjoon, so you have her bed all to yourself, and Ria and you have been treating it like a massive sleepover, doing face masks every night and getting mildly drunk on Saturday.
Nabi sighs as you walk towards the dorms, and you throw her a look.
“What’s wrong?”
“I feel like this semester is about to be the worst,” she admits, slightly shaking her head. “Namjoon basically confirmed it.”
You hook your arm with hers, resting your head on her shoulder. “Baby, it’s fine. We’re in this together.”
“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the top of our class.”
“And you’re the second,” you remind her. “We’ll be okay, I promise.”
She nods, heaving out a heavy breath again. “Is it bad that I’m already anxious?”
You don’t reply right away, as you pass through a group of engineer students gathered in front of a class, most likely getting ready for an evening class. An evening class on the first Monday…
You feel bad for them.
“It’s not bad,” you reply once you’ve finally walked past. “It means that you care about your grades. You just need to not let it eat you alive.”
“I think I’m just realizing that getting into med school might be harder than we thought,” she says with a sigh.
You stop, tugging on her arm so that she stops too. “No, I’m not having any of that,” you tell her. “We’ll both get in, Nabi, I promise.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, folding her arms on her chest.
“Yup.” You nod forcefully. “Dead serious. And after that, it’s smooth sailing until residency. And then we get a residency together, and we become sexy doctors.”
“Bruh,” she lets out, and she chuckles.
You’re happy your distraction works because you truthfully didn’t know where you were headed with it. “I promise!” you insist. “Give us a couple of years, and we’ll have our own practice.”
“You want to be a surgeon, and I want to be an ophthalmologist,” she reminds you. “Not quite sure we’d practice at the same place.”
You shrug, and you start walking towards the dorms again. “To be fair, we’ll probably both end up at a hospital. We just need to find a way to work at the same one.”
She purses her lips. “That sounds doable.”
You smirk mischievously. “Damn right.”
*****
Nabi ends up staying with you and Ria at the dorm for a couple of hours after class, and you order takeout that you eat sitting in a circle on the floor like you usually do when you do pre-drinks before a party. It’s fun, more chill than a pre-party gathering, and Ria tells you all about how she ran into Seokjin on campus today.
“He didn’t even look at me,” she admits. “What a dick.”
You exchange a knowing look with Nabi. “Maybe he didn’t see you,” you try.
“He ignores me when we all hang out together too,” she points out. “He’s doing it on purpose.”
Nabi scrunches up her nose. “Yeah… you did lead him on for months.”
“Not my fault if he fell in love,” Ria grumbles, her gaze dropping to the rice bowl she’s eating.
“It might not be your fault, but you still led him on,” Nabi pushes.
Ria huffs a breath, scoffing, but she doesn't say anything. She never really does when it comes to Seokjin anyway.
“Why are you so against the idea of being with him again?” you ask.
The scalding look you earn would put a dragon to shame. “Because I don’t want to be in a relationship,” she says, sounding like you a year ago when your friends had been pestering you about Hoseok.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“We all know he’d treat you like a goddess though,” Nabi says. “The guy’s a hopeless romantic.”
Ria rolls her eyes. “Cringe.”
You playfully push her, and she bursts out laughing. You don’t miss the way her cheeks have dusted with pink though - and neither does Nabi - but you don’t mention it.
You have a feeling Ria is lying to herself more than she’s lying to the both of you, but you’d never dare tell her. She’ll figure it out on her own or not, and that’s what being in college is.
You try stuff; some of it works, and some doesn’t.
Jungkook invades your thoughts, your chest aching all over again. You reach for the peach at the end of the chain, playing with the pendant mindlessly as if that can tame the ache, push it back to the back rooms of your mind.
It barely works, yet you manage to be able to let go of him after a few deep breaths, and a prolonged silence of Nabi staring at Ria while the latter is solely focused on eating. Your unease went unnoticed, which you reckon is a relief.
Confiding in them about Jungkook has helped over the summer, obviously, but there are some things you want to keep to yourself. Because Jungkook deserves the centrepiece in all of the secrets you’ve ever held - he was the grandest of them all last semester after all.
Still is, considering you’ve been lying to Taehyung about him all summer. Not that you really had to lie. You just avoided mentioning Jungkook, staying vague about your semester while Taehyung told you everything about Paris.
And so you end up saying goodbye to Nabi when she decides to go over to Yoongi and Namjoon’s apartment - Namjoon was quick to take Hoseok’s old room, seeking to leave the dorms once and for all - and you and Ria watch Demon Slayer, her favourite anime.
Coincidentally one of Jungkook’s favourite animes too, not that it matters.
You sigh - reminders of him are everywhere lately, and though you have been moving on over the summer, the ache has been revived. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he at home, watching anime or playing video games? Is he hanging out with Taehyung, with Jimin and their other friends? Or is he locked up in his room like he was all of Friday, before you fled the apartment?
It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Because Jungkook will always matter: he meant too much to you. Still does, and you don’t know what to make of it.
Ria sighs, pulling you out of your thoughts as the episode finishes. You glance at her - you’re lying side by side on her bed, a laptop in between you to watch the show.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her.
She purses her lips, shrugging, though it proves to be awkward considering the position. “I don’t know. It’s just… Is something wrong with me?”
A concerned crease appears between your eyebrows. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know…” She pauses, gaze still focused on the laptop screen as if she can’t bring herself to meet your own. “Why am I so opposed to relationships? To love in general?”
Oh.
“Oh Ria…” you let out.
“Don’t,” she warns. “I don’t want to be pitied.”
You press your lips in a tight line, nodding once. She chuckles, and then she starts the next episode, like she needs a moment to collect her thoughts.
“It’s just…” she says as Tanjiro fights a demon, the fight continued from the last episode. “I’m aware that Seokjin would be good for me. I enjoyed spending time with him too. But the second he mentioned feelings…”
“It turned you off,” you complete for her.
She nods. “It really did.”
“Why do you think it did?” you ask, even though you know it has to be because of her ex.
She sighs deeply. “That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I had a loving family growing up, so I can’t blame it on that. I had friends too, good friends, but then when my ex cheated…”
“It broke the part of you that could trust easily,” you say. “And it’s understandable, and totally valid.”
“I guess so…” she trails off. “I just feel like letting someone in is too much of a vulnerability.”
“That makes sense,” you say. “You like being in control, and you feel like being in a relationship would make you lose control.”
She glances at you, eyes slightly narrowed. “Sometimes I swear to God you sound like a therapist.”
You laugh - it’s not the first time you’ve been told that. Yoongi said so last semester too, when you’d helped him get over Hoseok.
“Don’t ask me for advice though,” you say, scrunching up your nose. “I don’t think I’d have any good advice.”
“Not to be mean, but after what you put yourself through last semester, I don’t think your advice would be really helpful,” she teases.
You widen your gaze. “That was mean.”
She pouts, offering you puppy eyes. You push her on the shoulder, and she rolls on her back, laughing. “No, but seriously,” she says. “I don’t blame you. You fell in love, and that’s not your fault, is it?”
You remain silent, not wanting the conversation to turn to Jungkook.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes after a few seconds of silence. “You’re right, that was mean.”
“You’re not wrong, though,” you reassure her. “I saw all the red flags and chose to ignore them.”
Ria turns on her side again, facing you. “That’s love for you. Everyone ignores all the red flags the moment they start having feelings for someone else.”
Like Seokjin, but you don’t say it. You highly doubt she needs to hear it.
“Cheers to that,” you say, though you are void of any beverage at the moment.
You’ve left your water bottle on the floor, too far to reach from where you’re lying in bed.
“You know what we should do?” Ria says a while later, when the episode is coming to an end. “We should go to the party on Friday. The one Dave’s frat is hosting.”
The name Dave rings an extremely distant bell - you think you went to a party hosted by his frat last semester, but you’re not quite sure.
“I thought we were already planning to go.”
Ria looks at you, mischief slowly filling her gaze. “We should go and find some cute guys to forget about all of our problems with.”
You laugh. “Men aren’t the solution to everything, you know that, right?” you tease.
“Oof. They’re the root of the problem most of the time, I know.” She pauses, purses her lips. “But we’re due to have fun. You know Nabi and Namjoon will come for an hour or two and disappear anyway.”
“What about Yoongi?”
“We’ll find him someone too! He deserves it.” She nods, clearly convinced that her plan is the best she’s ever come up with.
And Yoongi does, you think that out of the three of you, he’s the one that deserves a healthy relationship the most.
So you nod your head, saying, “It’s going to be lit.”
You can only hope that it is and that you don’t end up crying because of a certain doe-eyed man you should have let go of months ago.
Friday, September 6th
[11:17 am] bröther👽: just letting you know that Gaby is in town so Ari will be staying with her [11:17 am] bröther👽: come home
The texts Taehyung sent to you in the morning sit unanswered on your phone. Mostly because you didn’t know what to say - he still firmly believes you’ve decided to move out because of Ariane, and you think it might have killed a possible friendship with her in the bud.
If only they knew why you truly left. It likely wouldn’t be any better - Jungkook would be dead in a ditch somewhere, and you’d be grounded by your older brother like you were when you were in high school.
You know Taehyung is likely only going to grow suspicious if you ignore him, but you really just don’t know what to say. He’s likely going to be at the party tonight - you’ll make an effort to speak to him, to reassure him, and then you’ll disappear with your friends.
That is, if Jeon Jungkook isn’t with him. Because if Jungkook’s there, you’ll avoid Taehyung like the plague, no matter if that might make him even more suspicious.
“I literally cannot physically wait,” Ria says next to you, and you shoot her a quick look as she puts mascara on.
She’s going all out tonight, and you wonder if it’s because Yoongi mentioned Kim Seokjin will be in attendance. Obviously, you don’t want to attract her ire, so you don’t say it, but you reckon Seokjin has been a ghost in every conversation since last Monday.
Much like Jungkook has been, but you’ve been good at pretending he hasn’t.
“I really hope they’ve stocked up on free alcohol,” you say, knowing you’ll need it, mostly because if Taehyung is in attendance, then Ariane will likely be, and so will Gabrielle.
Your heart sinks in your chest at the thought - you haven’t told Ria, not wanting to ruin her enthusiasm.
“Do you want to curl your hair?” Ria says as she finishes with the mascara.
You shrug. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it natural,” you answer. “But you should curl yours.”
She narrows her gaze, staring at herself in the mirror. “You know what, yeah, I should.”
You chuckle, and then you both busy yourself getting ready. You apply more makeup than you usually do, only because you know it’ll be a mask you’ll use all evening.
Does Gabrielle even know about your existence?
You finish getting ready, stealing from Ria’s closet to get dressed. You settle on a pair of black leather pants, along with a black crop top t-shirt that hugs tight to your frame, revealing just an inch of the bird tattoo you got done on your right ribs in May.
You stare at the ink, thinking about Taehyung’s reaction. He’ll likely be pissed at you, but you’re done caring. If he wants to be mad, then so be it.
“Your ass looks amazing in this,” Ria compliments from behind you, and you snort as you turn to look at her.
She’s wearing a sage green corset that leaves little to the imagination. You compliment her in return, and she winks at you, before suggesting to down a couple of shots before leaving. You immediately agree, and you’ve got a light buzz by the time you leave the dorms, heading to the frat house.
It’s already crowded by the time you get there, the loud music having attracted all the party-goers on campus. The front lawn is cramped, and Ria grabs your hand, pulling you through the crowd to head to the house proper.
You make it to the hall, and luckily enough, there aren't as many people here. You’re able to navigate to the living room, where Dave - he really is the guy from last semester - finds you, offering drinks to the two of you.
You grab a beer, not trusting the questionable punch that Dave claims was prepared earlier today. Ria follows your lead, and you clink bottles with Dave, who admits he has no clue what’s in the punch when you’ve all taken your first sips.
“Bruh, why were you trying to sell it to us then?” Ria asks, eyebrows raised.
Dave laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Colton said it was good.”
Colton… you wonder if it’s the same Colton that had warned you about Jungkook once.
“And we’re supposed to trust Colton?” Ria teases.
Dave winces. “Not really, no, he’s already drunk.”
Ria nods as you take a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid heady on your tongue. You turn your head to the side, noticing a very distraught Yoongi walking into the living room, followed close by an even more distraught Seokjin. You wave them over, and Ria and Dave both turn their heads towards the new arrivals.
You notice Ria tensing from the corner of your eye, and Seokjin looks just as uncomfortable as he stops next to you. You hug Yoongi hello, and he doesn’t let you go right away, whispering in your ear, “This place is a shitshow, I don’t think we’ll stay.”
You pout as you pull away. “We said beer pong,” you remind him.
He rolls his eyes, though you know he’s always liked playing beer pong. So you manage to convince him to go for at least one game, though you know you’ll have to wait in line for a while before it’s your actual time to play. It makes for an awkward waiting - Ria and Seokjin are both ignoring each other, and Yoongi and you are standing in the middle, trying to engage in conversation.
You’re finally on the side of the table when you recognize your brother’s laugh, a sound you were sort of hoping not to hear in this crowd. You look to your left - he’s by the garden doors that lead to the backyard, Ariane cuddled up against him, and you think the girl standing with her back to you has to be Gabrielle.
“Shit,” you let out.
Yoongi furrows his brow at the sudden curse. “What’s wrong?” You motion towards the door, and his eyes widen. “Is that who I think it is?”
He knows about Gabrielle. He’s stalked her with you, during one of your many downward spirals, and Gabrielle has that kind of aura that is all too recognizable, even if you’ve only seen her once in a picture.
“I think so,” you reply, and Ria finally leans in to join the conversation.
“Is that Gaby?” she asks, loud enough for the people around you to hear.
You tap her arm, giving her a warning glance, though you’re pretty sure no one’s actually listening. Even Seokjin didn’t glance towards you at the outburst.
But Taehyung notices you, and you quickly turn away, pretending to be focused on the game unfolding on the table in front of you. There’s one cup on the left, three on the other side, and the girls playing are clearly more talented than you: they both shoot it in the lone glass when their turn comes, hugging as they shriek in happiness from their victory.
“Let’s go,” Ria says, and she pulls you to one end of the table as soon as the girls have moved.
Yoongi and Seokjin take the other side, even though Seokjin truly does appear like he wishes he wasn’t here, and you put the cups back into their spot, reorganizing the table.
Your brother appears next to you before you start, and you offer him a tight-lipped smile.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks.
“Me?” you let out, your voice uncharacteristically high. “Nothing.”
“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says through gritted teeth, the typical Kim temper flaring up.
You grab the neon orange ball Ria hands you, shrugging your shoulders. “I haven’t. Just been busy.”
He clenches his jaw, yet remains silent as you focus on the table, preparing for the first shot, the one that determines who between you and Ria or Yoongi and Seokjin will play first.
You’re against Yoongi, so you know you’ve already lost when you shoot. To your surprise, Yoongi misses, his ball bouncing off on the side of a cup. Yours flies way off the table, and you wince.
“That was trash,” Taehyung comments.
“Thanks,” you fire back.
Ria and Seokjin throw, and Ria surprisingly manages to get the shot. You clap your hands as she offers you a thumbs-up.
“Seriously though,” Taehyung asks, handing you the ball that Seokjin threw. “What’s wrong? Why did you move out?”
“Hold on,” you say.
You take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety of his questioning away, and you throw. The ball stays on the table this time, bouncing right next to one of the cups.
“Honestly it’s just so that I can spend time with Ria,” you answer, motioning to your friend. “She’s going through shit.”
Ria tenses next to you, offering you a quick glare before she focuses on shooting, unfortunately missing the cups.
“Oh,” Taehyung lets out. “I thought it was because of Ari.”
Speaking of Ari, you don’t see her anywhere near. You wonder where she went off to - are you lucky enough that she and Gabrielle left the party?
“Not at all,” you reply, and then you focus on the game as Seokjin and Yoongi prepare to throw. They both make it into a cup, and you clink your almost empty beer with Ria’s, taking a long sip before you move the cups to the side. “Ari’s super sweet.”
“She’ll be relieved when I tell her so,” Taehyung admits. “She was saying she could leave if it was an issue with you that she moves in with us.”
“It really isn’t,” you reassure Taehyung, feeling momentarily guilty for making Ariane feel like that. “I’ll probably come back eventually too.”
Taehyung’s eyes light up. “That’d be sick. We need to start doing Taco Tuesdays again.”
Taco Tuesdays. You’d forgotten all about them last semester - you’d spent every Tuesday last fall eating tacos with Taehyung, Jungkook joining once in a while. It was a tradition you’d had growing up with your mother too - when she wasn’t too busy working.
“I’m down,” you reply, and you get ready to throw.
To your surprise, you make the shot, landing it in the first cup at the front. Ria throws hers, and it bounces on the rim of one of the glasses before Seokjin catches it expertly.
“Is Jungkook coming tonight?” you ask.
Everything stills inside of you. You don’t even know why you asked - you didn’t even think about it before the question fell. But then again, you think it makes sense that Jungkook would invade your thoughts now.
When does he not?
Ria throws you a curious look at the question, though you don’t miss the disapproval in the furrow of her brows.
“JK?” Taehyung says, as if he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so. He says he wants to focus on college this semester.”
You nod curtly, getting ready to defend your cups as Seokjin and Yoongi throw. To your luck, they both miss, and you let Ria shoot first as you focus on Taehyung again.
“Makes sense now that he has to work for his father’s company, no?” you say, trying to sound as if you don’t care.
As if Jungkook is not the center of your universe, still to this day.
“I guess so,” Taehyung comments, and you throw, entirely missing the table again.
Ria lands hers in a cup though, which leaves four cups in front of the boys and three in front of you and Ria.
“I still can’t believe the motherfucker is rich and he never told us,” Taehyung adds.
You get the feeling. You still think New York was a fever dream - even more so now that you’ve lost Jungkook. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, and it trickles down your body, burning all along the way.
“It’s crazy,�� you let out, and it sounds just as flat as you feel - like maybe your heart just flatlined in your chest.
Taehyung makes a non-committal sound, and you’re able to focus on the rest of the game without any interruption. You evidently end up losing to Seokjin and Yoongi, and you shake hands with the boys, congratulating them for their win, even though you’d all expected it.
“I’ll go get something to drink,” Taehyung says when you finally glance his way again. “Stay away from the punch.”
And then he leaves, and you mimic him as he walks away, raising your middle finger to his back. Ria snorts next to you, and you laugh along with her.
“He’s making me want to have some of the punch,” she says, and you laugh harder.
“Hard pass,” Seokjin says, and Ria stiffens next to you. “I tasted it, and it tastes like piss.”
“Wouldn’t even be surprised if someone pissed in it,” Yoongi says. “This party is…”
“Juvenile?” you provide.
Ria laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “It’s fun, stop.”
She sounds just as unconvinced as you think she seems, yet you all don’t mention it, which you reckon happens a lot around her lately.
“I think we’ll head out,” Yoongi says after a few seconds. “Want to have a beer back at my place?”
“And disturb the lovebirds?” Ria answers. “No thank you.”
Indeed, Namjoon and Nabi chose to stay in tonight, and you don’t have to use a lot of brain power to imagine what they might be doing right now, when they finally have full privacy in the apartment.
“Right,” Yoongi lets out. He winces, then shrugs his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here for a couple of hours, then.”
He says that in Seokjin’s direction, who runs a hand on his forehead before nodding. “Can we at least go outside?”
“Sure. You girls coming?” Yoongi asks, motioning to the backyard.
Ria doesn’t even wait for you to reply, instead tugging you towards the garden doors. You stop her, glancing over your shoulder. “I actually really have to pee, but I’ll join you guys outside?”
She narrows her gaze in suspicion, and you furrow your brows. She leans in, whispering, “Are you trying to leave me alone with Seokjin?”
You snort. “Not at all,” you reply, patting her hand on your arm. “I genuinely am just about to pee myself. You know how I am with beer.”
She fake-gags, and you playfully push her as she bursts out laughing. “Ayt, we’ll be outside.”
You wave them goodbye, and Seokjin awkwardly waves back before following Yoongi and Ria. You chuckle at the sight before heading to the bathroom, which you think is probably on the second floor.
So you make it towards the staircase you see in the corner, squeezing through the crowd and apologizing all the way, though most people are too drunk to even notice you. You successfully make it to the staircase, and you walk around the group of girls sitting on the steps, making it to the second floor unscathed.
“Bathroom?” a guy who clearly looks like he belongs to the frat asks you.
You almost startle at the unexpected question, though you recover quickly, nodding your head.
“Last door on the left,” he tells you. “I think someone’s in there right now though.”
“Should I not wait then?” you ask.
He chuckles. “From what I saw when I exited it was just one girl alone so, you should be good.”
“Thanks,” you answer, offering him a small smile, and he nods once before heading down the stairs, though he quickly realizes that it might be too big of a feat. He indeed just plops down on the stairs, striking up a conversation with the girls there.
They look like they know him, so you walk away, heading to the last door on the left. You lean against the wall outside, pulling your phone out of your pocket.
No notifications greet you, so you push it back into your pocket, right as the door unlocks, and then opens.
You freeze, just as much as she does. Both of your gazes widening, until she lets out a small, “Hello”, the word heavy with a French accent.
Of course, the girl in the bathroom had to be Gabrielle.
“Hi,” you reply, and you try to smile, though you’re not sure it works.
“You’re Taehyung’s sister, aren’t you?” she asks.
You nod curtly. “The one and only.”
She smiles. “Thought so.” There’s a pause as she doesn’t move from the doorway, and you just wait, awkwardness filling every inch of you.
Her next sentence throws you off the axis you’ve been spinning on for months now, and you just stare at her in disbelief.
“You’re not with Jungkook tonight?” she asks.
You feel hot and cold at the same time, your heart rate picking up uncomfortably in your chest. Your palms turn clammy, and you wouldn’t be surprised if sweat appeared on your temples.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She frowns. “I thought Ari said…” she trails off, and then she shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.” She smiles gently. “I’m happy he’s got you now.”
You think your eyes are bulging out of your head. They have to - the conversation isn’t making any sense, and you aren’t drunk enough to blame it on the alcohol.
“What?”
Her frown reappears. “Aren’t you two dating now?”
You laugh. It’s a sad, pathetic laugh, and Gabrielle looks at you like you’re crazy.
“He cheated on me with you,” you say. “Why would I be dating him?”
The frown falls, replaced by utter surprise. Her mouth opens on a silent ‘Oh’, like she wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself, and then she says, “Non mais putain qu’il est con.”
You don’t speak French, so all you can do is cock an eyebrow quizzically. And then she lets out a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head.
“I told him to tell you,” she says, and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose. “But he’s really stupid sometimes.”
“I’m sorry?”
She offers you a small smile bordering on pity, and you brace yourself for what she’ll say next.
“Fille, I’m gay,” she says. “Jungkook was always only pretending to be my boyfriend so my family wouldn’t know. I didn’t know about you when I kissed him in Paris, and I only kissed him because Ari was growing suspicious.”
You think you’re frozen in place. Like, stared into Medusa’s eyes and turned to stone frozen in place. All you can do is stare at Gabrielle, unblinkingly, as her words spin round and round in your head, caught in a dizzying tornado you can’t follow.
“I told him to tell you,” she repeats, and she sounds far too apologetic for the erratic beating of your heart. For the realization that she just hit you with.
You think she hit harder than a physical slap would have.
“What?” you say, voice small and weak and oh so broken.
Months. You’ve been breaking for him for months… and for what? For a promise he refused to break, one that would have explained everything in a way that would have made you work.
You would have forgiven him, no hesitation. Hell, you reckon you would have told him you loved him, would have told him you wanted to be with him from now on until you turn to dust.
But he had to choose to respect a promise he made years ago, to an ex that wasn’t really an ex after all, was she?
Just a friend from high school.
She was, after all, just a friend from high school.
She nods. “Yeah. He told me all about you.” She smiles again, though this time it’s just sad, like she knows just how shattered you are over this man. “I was rooting for you two.”
“He didn’t tell me,” you whisper as if Gabrielle hadn’t already pieced that together. “Why?”
She sighs. “He’s stupid,” she says as an explanation. “He’s the kind that’ll sacrifice himself if it means helping someone else. I suppose you know that already.”
You nod, because you do.
He sacrificed himself for you last semester when you got home crying on Valentine’s Day. And he sacrificed countless parties over his promise to Taehyung to look after you.
And he sacrificed you to protect Gabrielle’s secret.
“Holy shit,” you let out.
“Talk to him,” she says softly. “Go talk to him now. I’m not letting him lose you over me.” She scoffs, the frown she’d sported earlier returning. “I should have realized before. That he didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze widens, and you shake your head no. “Oh, no, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”
It’s not your fault if he broke my heart.
It’s always just been his fault, hasn’t it?
But then again… you know now. You know that he never cheated on you, that he was right when he was saying that it wasn’t what you thought it was.
You know that he was there, with you. That he felt for you what you felt for him, that he was chasing cars around your head, too.
And if there’s a chance you can salvage that, repair two hearts in one stone, you know you have to do it.
“I have to talk to him.” You say the words with quiet conviction, and Gabrielle nods, offering you an encouraging smile. “Fuck.”
“Go to him, fille,” Gabrielle says. “And tell him he’s an enfoiré for me.”
You highly doubt you’d be able to repeat that word, yet you still say, “Will do.”
And then you take off, entirely forgetting that you had to pee. You have one goal in mind, and it’s to run home, where you know he has to be according to what Taehyung said. You don’t even stop to text him, to confirm that he really is.
No, you run down the stairs, through the crowd and outside. The front lawn isn’t as crowded as earlier, and you easily make it to the sidewalk, skidding to a halt just long enough to change direction.
And then you’re running home. Running home to him, your heart beating wildly. For the right reason this time. And as you run, lungs struggling to get enough oxygen in, thighs burning with heat, you feel infinite. You feel like you’re a star in the sky above, or maybe the moon returning to her lover. You feel like a bird soaring high, like a dolphin riding the waves.
You feel young and old and small and big, all at once. Like nothing is ever going to stop you again. You feel in love, you are in love, and after all the months of suffering, you reckon it’s the most beautiful feeling you’ve ever experienced.
You didn’t know you could sprint like you are right now, yet even though your body is straining, you’re not slowing down. You’ve pulled your phone out of your pocket to make sure it doesn’t fall as you run, yet you don’t slow down.
You can’t slow down anymore, not when your gravity finally aligned with his again.
Like it was always meant to be. Because it’s always been meant to be you and him, hasn’t it?
You make it home in a record time, climbing up the stairs… only to realize you don’t have your keys. They are back at the dorms, but it’s too late.
You try the door, and to your surprise, the doorknob turns, and you barge into your home, barge into this life with him.
You catch your breath as you stop in the hall, doubling over when you realize you’ve actually ran - sprinted - for nearly a mile. You’re lucky the frat house wasn’t further away - you highly doubt you would have made it home if it was any further.
“Y/n?” Jungkook says from his bedroom.
You straighten, trying to catch your breath. And the second your eyes land on him, you know it was all worth it.
Every single second of suffering was worth it to be here with him tonight.
“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.
He’s shirtless, his honey skin just as warm as you remember it to be. He’s in fact only wearing grey joggers, and his hands are lost in his pockets like he’s trying to look nonchalant.
The concern on his features tells you he, as a matter of fact, isn’t as nonchalant as he’s trying to appear.
“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”
“Yes?”
You laugh. You know you might look crazy, but you literally just ran a mile for this man, and each foot was worth it.
The grandest journey of your life, wasn’t it?
“She told me,” you say.
He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”
“Gabrielle told me everything.” You surprise yourself by blinking away tears, and you let out a small laugh as you go to dry them.
Jungkook remains silent, just staring at you with horror slowly inching into his gaze. You don’t know how, or why, but it only occurs to you then that he might not be alone right now.
“Kook?” you whisper, unable to say it louder.
Not when you’re slowly crashing down from the high.
“Y/n, I…” he trails off. He closes his eyes, head hanging low. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
You gulp as you swallow. “Yeah, huh.”
You look down, noticing a pair of sneakers you’ve never seen before.
It takes all of the courage you can muster up to look back up when the door of the bathroom opens, revealing a dishevelled Lisa, in only a t-shirt you recognize all too well.
You’d used to sleep in that t-shirt, too.
Lisa sees you after you see her, turning beet red. She’s naked under Jungkook’s shirt, or at least you think she is.
You assume she is considering that he’s shirtless too.
“Oh,” you let out.
Choke out might be a more appropriate word. Because you’re crashing, and you’re crashing hard. Hitting the wall at 120 mph, splattering on it until there’s nothing left of you. Nothing left of that hope you’d found at the party, the hope Gabrielle had so kindly gifted you even though she owed you nothing.
Someone’s screaming. You think someone’s screaming - is it just in your head?
“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were here.”
“I live here,” you reply, voice empty of any emotion.
She purses her lips, nodding once, and then she hesitantly walks out of the bathroom. “I’m sorry I… I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
Neither did you. Neither did Jungkook - it would have saved everyone a whole lot of breaking if you’d known.
If you’d known that having hope for Jeon Jungkook was futile and useless.
How could you even think you were meant to be with him? There is no universe for you and him out there. Just different worlds of breaking. Because it’s all your soul knows how to do - all your soul knows is to break for him, to shatter and crash and fracture for the man standing in front of his opened bedroom door.
“No worries,” you say, though this time your voice does wobble.
This time, the pain does colour your tone in heartbreak blue.
Jungkook just remains silent, like he’s suddenly gone mute. You think it’s better like this - if he were to say anything right now, you think you’d likely break down here. Instead, you take a deep breath, pat your pockets and say, “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”
Unable to help yourself, you glance towards Jungkook once. He meets your gaze - he looks infinitely pained, the heartbreak stark on his features too. There’s some reassurance in knowing that he’s breaking, too. That you’re doing it together.
Heartbreak isn’t as lonely when you’re doing it together.
“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.
She falls silent, clearly hearing the screaming in your head too.
You’re outside a second later, carefully closing the door behind you. Carefully severing the rest of your relationship with Jungkook, until all that is left is the memories.
You take a step back, looking at the door, thinking he might open, might come see you.
Thinking he might be your home after all.
But he doesn’t, the door staying stubbornly closed. You get the message - your souls were never meant to merge. The songs that you thought were about him, about you, about the two of you together, they were never about you. You were never meant to lie down and forget the world with him.
Or maybe you were, but it came with an expiration date.
You reckon you and Jungkook have always had an expiration date. You just forgot tonight, became blind to it thanks to false, treacherous hope. And so you leave, walking down the stairs as you blink away the tears that are clinging to your waterline.
You embrace the heartbreak, let it sweep through you until you think it’s all you’ve ever known. And like a true companion, the heartbreak carries your steps through the night.
Prev | Chapter 13.5 | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
do I feel bad for the amount of angst I wrote into this story? Maybe a little. I promise one day things will get better for these two, but in the meantime, what did you guys think?
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
#chasing cars ch 13#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk#jeon jungkook#btswritersclub#chasing cars#chasing cars series
580 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to talk about Charles’s death scene because it's the most beautiful death scene and one of the most beautiful scenes in general that I've ever seen.
It starts with quick flashbacks of what happened previously, Charles defending that kid and then getting himself attacked by his friends because of that. We've already seen all that.
But then it switches to him, alone and shivering, in the attic. We know what is going to happen. We already know he is dying. The light is cold, just like he is.
Then, enters Edwin, holding a lantern, bathing the attic in a warm colour. And Charles can see him. We and Edwin know why, Charles doesn't, yet.
Edwin wanted to bring him the lantern in case it helped, but it's already too late, Charles is dying. So he stays. They talk, Edwin answers Charles's questions, all while Under the Milky Way plays in the background (and what a beautiful song). Charles learns that Edwin is dead and is a ghost and he looks sad for Edwin, but he asks more questions, until he can't anymore.
When Charles doesn't have much energy left, he's not shivering anymore, his body can't even do that anymore. He's too tired to talk. Edwin reads him a story, changing his voice according to the characters.
Charles looks out the window as Edwin's voice fade in the background.
Then, we see him standing near that window, in a tank top, no longer wearing that blanket. At first, we don't see Charles's body, giving us the time to understand what just happened. And then he turns and sees his own body. He just died.
And despite knowing that throughout the whole show, Charles is a ghost, seeing his memory of his death still hurts. It's unfair. He was killed by his friends because he chose to do the right thing. But it's also beautiful, because Edwin was there. Edwin made what would have been a cold and lonely death a warm and friendly one, despite the fact that they were just strangers back then.
Charles then choses to stay with Edwin, and it's the start of a beautiful friendship between the two, a much more beautiful existence then they both ever had when they were alive (or even in death in Edwin's case, when he was in Hell).
This scene never fells to make me cry. It's so sad and beautiful. It makes me feel so deeply for him, a beautiful soul whose life got cut short.
And another reason why I love this scene so much is because it's when Charles and Edwin first met. It's how and why they became friends. This scene wrecks me on so many levels and I'll never shut up about it.
975 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen
Part Two
Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o
Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k
Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!
Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3
Masterlist!
Part One
Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach.
His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.
It was always on your mind. Always.
Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.
And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger.
Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.
You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job.
Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand.
If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all.
Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another.
On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly.
Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.
You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.
The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”
Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough.
Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know.
“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read.
Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that.
But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you.
Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you.
Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking.
“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there.
Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch.
Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose.
If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw.
There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy.
He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine.
No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince.
A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him.
But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage.
Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing.
The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue.
When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin.
Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.”
“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”
You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”
It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did.
But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you.
You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.
So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt.
A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago.
He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm.
One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that.
Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide.
Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance.
And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.
For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression.
“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”
With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless.
Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice.
There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption.
“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”
You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye.
“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”
Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong.
Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger.
You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”
The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.
Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all.
Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there.
But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat.
“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”
Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist.
“My prince-”
“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”
The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating.
You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”
If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned.
There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived.
So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it.
“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”
Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.”
And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome.
A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you.
The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut.
You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced.
Footsteps. Again.
Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck.
It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was.
So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard. Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers.
You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.
Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you.
If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing.
But what else had you expected?
This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head.
Gods, you had never known anything like it.
Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist.
You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery.
Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him.
For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in?
Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.
Like things were going exactly how he had planned.
Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much.
The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear.
And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn.
Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along?
It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s?
You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.
Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.
He wanted you to see.
Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play.
Sleep did not come easy that night.
You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place.
The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day.
For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.
Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.
It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman.
There was none. Not a single strand of hair.
You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him.
“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”
You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”
Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava.
He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing.
The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”
“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”
Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”
“I did not think you cared to take note.”
“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”
Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”
“I do not.”
You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”
“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”
“Answer my question, Aemond.”
“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”
“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”
The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”
Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat.
“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”
“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw.
There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”
“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”
Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time.
The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck.
When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach.
You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”
“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.”
For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”
“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”
You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs.
The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips.
Lavender, leather and him.
“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”
Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view.
His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”
“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable. “You should not have indulged in that whore.”
Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.
You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh.
It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him.
You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.
There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”
A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter.
You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.
“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.”
Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?”
You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”
Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”
“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”
“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”
You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”
“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”
Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap.
Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure.
You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.
“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”
“Gods, no–do not sto-”
Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter.
“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”
“No.”
It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.
Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan.
You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad.
“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor.
Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline.
“You would not dare,” he all but growled.
“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?”
Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”
“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”
There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond targaryen smut#aemond fanfiction#aemond one eye#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#hotd x reader#rahhhh guys I'm in a feral mood for part 2#house of the dragon#aemond x reader#aemond fic#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond angst#house of the dragon aemond#aemond x you#aemond x oc#aemond x y/n#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x female#aemond x fem!oc#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x female reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fandom#aemond fan fiction#aemond targaryen x ofc
713 notes
·
View notes
Text
People have said many times how Fourteenth Doctor is so much more open with feelings and emotions than Ten. But it is especially huge when it comes to Donna specifically. Ten was so reserved and held back so much when it came to expressing feelings and voicing them, that his companions never fully understood how much they meant to him. Ten was very flawed and very HUMAN and while he had so much love in him, he was equally afraid to express it, show it unabashedly. Did Donna ever truly understand how much he loved her? Did he ever tell her how much she meant to him on screen? When Ten knew he was losing Donna, and she was about to disappear in front of him, he knew this was his last moment with her, and the best he could do while she was conscious is hold her at arm’s length and tell her “We had the best of times”. You could see he was dying inside and this moment is killing him but he NEVER SHOWS it to her. While it’s all in his eyes, Ten still doesn’t tell her anything that would have an emotional weight or reveal the whole depth of his feelings.
Ten kept all his feelings bottled so deep inside, that when they finally started to bleed out, he made the worst mistakes possible. It ended up killing him. And the breaking point was losing Donna. He carried so much guilt over the way he lost her and the way he let her, his best friend in the whole wide universe, down, that it echoed over to the next regenerations, in Eleven’s guilt and Twelve’s face. That scene in the TARDIS in “Let’s Kill Hitler” where Eleven is poisoned, and the TARDIS is showing him images of former companions when Eleven asks “Give me guilt”. The TARDIS shows him Martha first, and there is so much to be guilty about when it comes to Martha, and then Eleven asks for “also guilt”, and the TARDIS shows him Donna, and when Eleven asks for “more guilt”, the image doesn’t change. It is still Donna, TARDIS is showing Eleven the best friend who got let down so hard by the Doctor. And the Doctor still carries that guilt and regret and heartbreak with him, because he loved his best friend and her attachment to him almost got her killed and hurt her in the worst way possible. “Stand too close, and people get burnt”, just like Martha said.
Fourteen though. He is a completely different person. He doesn’t just love Donna, he ADORES her, he is here FOR HER, this face is here BECAUSE OF HER. He tells a complete stranger he just met that he loves his best friend Donna, and repeats it twice.
When Donna honestly asks who would care about her 'cause she thinks she is just no one, Fourteen angrily cries “I DO!” because that’s his brilliant and amazing best friend who after all these years still thinks so little of herself and he hadn’t been there to remind her of that, and it is all his fault that she doesn’t remember how fantastic and special and extraordinary she has always been and how many times her brilliance saved worlds and lives, including the Doctor’s.
Fourteen is crying and screaming and breaking down, when he thinks Donna is about to die in front of him, all because he is so afraid of losing her again. Fourteen cradles Donna’s body and cries when he thinks he had lost her and tells the Meep’s soldiers to kill him, because he doesn’t care anymore, because someone he loves so dearly is dead in his arms, and it is all his fault.
When Donna gets her memories back, Fourteen almost immediately confesses how losing her KILLED HIM and how he remembers every second with her. He tearfully confesses that he has missed her for all those years they were apart, it’s been millions of years they spent apart for the Doctor. All those years the Doctor needed Donna who would make him laugh again, Donna who would keep him grounded, Donna who would call him spaceman and silently hug him when he needed it the most, Donna who would understand and be there and be his touchstone and anchor and guiding light.
Fourteen knows that she can’t stay with him forever like she used to want to, but he still gives her both of his hearts and tells her how much he cherishes their time together. He offers her coffee just the way she likes it, he remembers such small details about her after literally thousands, millions of years! And he shows it to her. Fourteen is so full of love and he is not afraid to show it, he is rushing to love, to express it before Donna is gone from his life again. And he is trying to make up for all those years as Ten when he couldn’t say these things to Donna, and she never knew just how much she meant to him. Donna never knew that she was his soulmate, that her presence made such an impact and her absence led to Ten’s death and that he died saving her grandad.
Fourteen kisses Donna’s hands and hair and hugs her like she is the most precious thing he knows. His hugs are also different from Ten’s. Fourteen wraps himself around Donna and holds her tight, this is how he shows his affection. He wants Donna to hear, know AND feel how much he cares. Because he already knows what it’s like to lose her and he wants her to know in case he has to let her go forever again.
When there is a threat of the world ending and his wonderful selfless Donna once again stresses that it is not about her, the Doctor solemnly replies that it really is. Because here right now in mortal danger he is willing to put her first and thinks of her wellbeing before anything else, because Donna Noble means the world to him.
Fourteen loves Donna so much, that he is willing to stay with her forever, staying still is not so bad when it’s with her. Fourteen is so tired and weary and bruised and exhausted but when he looks into Donna’s eyes, he doesn’t feel so tired anymore.
Fourteen got Ten’s face because he needed rest, but also maybe, just maybe, because Ten didn’t want to go so badly that he broke through and got the chance to come back so he could have another chance, to have a life and be with his best friend again and come home. Fourteen was born out of love that Ten had for Donna. And that love (and the TARDIS) brought him right to Donna’s doorstep, so he can hear her call him spaceman again and have the best of times for as long as they live and have a laugh with his family in their shared garden and find out what it’s like to be happy. Fourteen gives his love so openly and freely and he gets to receive it too, he gets to bask in it and revel in it. He finally gets the reward Ten was dreaming about.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
It's crazy how Dungeon Meshi's manga can feel more cinematic and emotional than the anime to me, even when they're practically the same. Compared to the anime, this moment is such a heartbreaking gut-drop. The way Kui uses negative space and flat compositions to create a sense of horrific stillness is so key.
The way the text (Senshi's monologue) is sequestered to an empty corner of a panel or huddled away from the edge of its text box is not only a great way of showing Senshi's headspace (fearful, isolated, dissociating), but creates a visual representation of pause, as if you hold your breathe after each line. The first panel puts us directly in Senshi's perspective too (compared to in the anime, which puts us as an outside observer over Senshi's shoulder). The detail of the door and bricks so effectively implies that he stared at it for so long, waiting and hoping, that its image is burned in his memory. The wood grain, the brick arch, the number of rivets. The lack of dialogue in the second panel shows a moment of realization too –– "he's dead" (also a great example of the Kuleshov effect). And it's that pause that creates a beat and sets a great rhythm to his headspace, like a music rest: "He never came back." (oh god.) "I'm all alone." Finally, the third panel's negative space, cropping Senshi, shows how truly alone he feels. Without his family, the world ceases to exists. Under shock, he traps himself in a 1-foot radius, too scared to even perceive a world outside its boundaries; a world that can hurt him, kill him, make him disappear with it. There is only his body, the stone beneath his feet and against his back, his thoughts, and that awful bowl of soup.
Even though they're a series of flat images, there's an implicit reading of silence in Senshi's realization and horror. Kui influences your experience to slow down and take your time.
Compare this to the anime, which fills every shot with dialogue. The pacing is fast; we never get to sit in silence like we do with the manga. The horizontal frame allowed the boarders to add Senshi, turning the composition into an over-the-shoulder shot, which takes us out of Senshi's POV. They also added a zoom-out in shot one, which adds unnecessary energy to a very somber scene. The tightening on Senshi as a close-up reaction shot also dulls the moment. In the original panel, Senshi stares ahead at the empty space to his left as a shadow surrounds his mind. It not only shows how Senshi's senses are dulling and his world is shrinking (setting up panel three), but shows how terrified Senshi is of what's in front of him, how the air itself becomes pitch black and opaque, how Senshi is surrendering himself to fear. The pacing is understandable and necessary; this episode packed a lot of story content together. It's just a shame because it really (imo) deflated one of the most nauseating moments in Dungeon Meshi.
#dungeon meshi#senshi#analysis#personal#long post#not art#because comics are inherently more abstract and rule-breaky the format thrives off show don't tell#i think trigger is doing a great job overall but they missed the mark on this scene#for me cinematic storytelling will prioritize rhythm; tension; and silence over plot. that's why the manga feels more “cinematic”#if you've been enjoying the anime i cannot recommend also reading the manga enough. it's a completely different experience with much more#subtext and emotion to draw from
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
₊˚✩ starlight.
pairings. l&ds xavier, fem!reader tags. 800+ wc. jealous bf!xavier, fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, main story long awaited revelry spoilers, altered some scenes, may or may not be inspired by his tender nights memory :’) dividers by strangergraphics.
xavier isn’t exactly the happiest when you returned to linkon city after being in the n109 zone. don’t get him wrong—he’s absolutely grateful that you came back safe and whole. it’s just that… he didn’t like how your eyes sparkled when you started mentioning his greatest adversary: sylus.
you’re obviously suppressing a smile too, as you reminisce the events that occurred between you and the onychinus leader. you’re particularly giddy about that moment at the auction, it seems, where you said you had to play the part of being sylus’s partner for the night.
dammit, xavier feels his chest tightening when he imagines those scenes in his head. he wants to cover his ears badly, but has no other choice but listen intently. all he can do is listen in silence and try to bottle every spark of jealousy that ignited within him. he has to pretend that he’s happy and proud of you, but then again, he just can’t freaking ignore the way your face lit up at the mention of sylus.
xavier sighs as you continue your enthusiastic storytelling. fine, then. he sulks to himself. just have to get this day over with.
~
date night came, and as you walk through the city garden, you notice xavier’s silence grew more pronounced. you try to engage him, but his responses are rather curt, his usual warmth replaced by a cold distance. during dinner, even his favorite hotpot couldn’t lift his spirits. he would push the food around on his plate, barely having the appetite to eat.
huh? that’s new, you muse. xavier is usually the most excited to eat hotpot on a cold day.
when he takes you to your place later that night, the tension is palpable. you know you have to bring it up at that point. otherwise, this game of silence will never end.
“xav, is something wrong?” you try to ask in a soft, comforting voice.
but xavier only shakes his head, forcing his usual endearing smile. “nothing’s wrong. you should go to sleep.”
~
that same evening, xavier sits at his desk, staring at his laptop screen for more than an hour. his fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating before he finally types into the anonymous forum.
starlight123: what do you do if your gf keeps talking about another guy? i love her, but it’s driving me crazy. any advice?
he hits post and leans back, running a hand through his hair. the minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. then, the replies start coming in.
anonymous user: talk to her about it. anonymous user: maybe she doesn’t realize how it’s affecting you. anonymous user: communication is key, bro.
but one comment stood out, cutting through the well-meaning advice like a knife.
anonymous user: it's game over for you, man. girls like toxic boys who treat them like dirt. you're too nice. she probably already slept with him.
xavier’s heart sank.. he quickly closes the laptop, feeling an uncomfortable pang on his chest. is he really losing you to someone like sylus?
~
the next few days are torture. xavier stopped responding to your messages. he stopped commenting on your moments posts. he won’t even ask you to play kitty cards or catch plushies on the claw machines. and even if you see him around, he’s always distant, giving you brief, obligatory smiles. he still greets tara warmly, but with you, there’s always this thick wall in between. he's acting like a stranger, as if he doesn't care about you, as if he's not dating you...
agh, you can’t stand it anymore!
one night, you find yourself knocking on his door, needing desperate answers for your desperate questions.
xavier then opens the door, sweaty and out of breath. a dumbbell lay on his living room floor, and his hair is pushed back, revealing a flushed face.
“new hairstyle?” you ask, stepping inside and noticing the sudden eccentricity in his movements. “what are you doing, boyfriend?”
xavier’s cheeks are limned with a red tint as he looks away. “nothing.”
“are you trying to gain more muscles?” you press, amusement edging your voice.
at this, he lets out a defeated sigh and finally faces you. “do you prefer tall, muscular guys?” the sudden question came out of nowhere, until it was followed by another, and that’s when you started seeing the pattern. “do you… do you like bad boys more?”
“xav, why are you asking me this?” crossing your arms, you tilt your head so his avoidant eyes would meet yours.
“well, you can answer me first.”
“not until you look me in the eyes!”
still, he refuses to meet your gaze and his voice wavers with insecurity when he spoke, “it's okay, i get it. you do prefer guys like that.” his eyes stays on the floor, turning his face away. “if so, then i may not be like them, but i can still make you happy in my own little ways.”
your heart immediately melts at his words. it all makes sense now. him working out in the middle of the night, him styling his hair up, him trying to act like he doesn’t care about you—he’s trying to be sylus!
stepping closer, you chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a sweet kiss. “xavier, you’re the only one i like. i’ll never replace you.” you place another peck on his lips, then on his cheek, then on his nose. “besides, sylus is annoying. i prefer the presence of my very adorable golden retriever boyfriend!”
“you really mean it?” his puppy eyes stares at you earnestly.
your response is a confident nod. “i swear it. and, duh! lumiere is way hotter than him.”
his arms encircles your waist, holding you tightly as he lifts your chin and plants a tender kiss on your lips. the tension eventually melts away as you reassure him with your touch and your words. in that moment, all his jealousy and insecurity faded, now replaced by the warmth of your love. “you’re mine,” he reminds, nose nuzzling into yours. “i don’t want to share you with anyone else.”
#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#xavier x reader#xavier x you#l&ds x reader#xavier fluff#l&ds drabble#lads drabble#love and deepspace drabble#lads fluff#l&ds fluff#xavier x mc#lads xavier#l&ds xavier
607 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bones, Blood and Teeth Erode | Jeong Yunho
⚠️ Summary: Taking a child under your wing, tackling complex feelings for a man who didn't make your life easier, and waking up to the entire world wanting to sink their teeth into your skin would make for one hell of a college essay. Too bad you were already done with your studies and working a full time job kicking rotten ass.
⚠️ Pairing(s): Jeong Yunho x F!Reader
⚠️ Genres/Tropes: non-idol AU, zombie apocalypse AU, horror, romance, hurt/comfort, a lot of action, a lil comedy, golden retriever x black cat (kinda, not really)
⚠️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, reader has a panic attack, derogatory words (bitch), use of weapons (guns, knives), blood and gore (quite descriptive), (probably inaccurate) gun wounds, losing consciousness, petnames (flower, angel, darling, sweetie), zombies, murder, reader is a badass, attempted murder by strangulation, brief allude to suicide and hanging (just a quick mention), medical needles, disagreements, Wooyoung is a menace, jealous!Yunho
⚠️ Wordcount: 39.3K
⚠️ Author's note: This work has been a fun challenge as it's my first time writing a zombie AU. With that, I'll kindly ask you to please be nice if the gore and action doesn't live up to your expectations! I'm also thinking of making a "sequel" as everything I planned couldn't fit here, but I don't know... I'll leave that for future me to decide. Until then, I'm going to focus on finishing Cold Hands, Warm Heart. Plus, who was going to tell me there was a limit to Tumblr?? Wdym I can't exceed 1000 paragraphs? 😭
This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not necessarily sexual content, but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, as well as adult language and gore. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!
AO3 masterlist moodboard Permanent taglist
The most memorable moments of life were limited and a majority of them weren’t even stored in the human’s hippocampus until the ages three or four. First words, first steps, first birthday, first time using the potty amongst other things weren’t memories, but rather snippets of stories retold by parents or other significant individuals. With the years passing and flowers withering as snow spread through the country, the less memorable things became. Birthdays were celebrated every three hundred and sixty-fifth day, but were only really a big deal if it was a big number or when the line of adolescence and adulthood was crossed. After that, no one was eager enough to celebrate the less time they harbored in the world.
Then — in some random order — your wallet would be updated with a shiny driver’s license accompanying your credit card, a few pennies and other meaningless receipts you couldn’t bother throwing out. The desk in your childhood bedroom was cleared of coloring books, instead proudly displaying the evidence of graduating college that would eventually be framed and nailed to the newly painted walls of your first apartment. Those were the more memorable milestones you’d think back to in your senior years while relaxing on your porch with a cup of freshly brewed tea. By that point in life, you’d be free of school, work and other duties. The only worry was when your next doctor’s appointment was or if the neighborhood kids were stealing apples from your garden again.
The universe was known for throwing curveballs when one least expected and no one could foresee the bombshell of death and despair exploding on the green earth, altering everyone’s hopes and dreams to dust. Within hours, the vision of spending your last years alive tending to your garden flowers and watching the sun go to sleep was erased from existence along with your cherished memories, because there was no moment in life you’d remember more than the day the world went to shit.
“How’s little Nari doing? Have you checked the locks?”
“She’s good, as much as a seven-year-old could be. I’ve already put her to bed like half an hour ago. We ate some fruit snacks and watched an episode of Bluey, and poof, she was out like a light,” you chuckled gently. “And yes, I already checked, I double checked even.”
This was your new nightly routine ever since moving miles across the country for more opportunities in the big city. Your mom had yet to accept the fact her baby girl (and only child) wasn’t a baby anymore, but a grown woman with adult responsibilities. Nonetheless, she still called you at least once a day, and as much as you loved her, she sure was getting on your nerves.
“Triple check it… Oh! And see if your windows are locked too. She’s such a sweet little girl. Speaking of, how are the Kangs?”
Leave it to your mom to ask about everyone’s and everything’s wellbeing. It was no wonder she had trouble sleeping at night, the constant worry gnawing on her brain like a mouse with a stolen piece of cheese.
Rolling your eyes, you refrained from chastising her for staying up late watching one too many criminal documentaries. You lived on the fifth floor; what did it matter if your windows were locked or not?
“The Kangs are good too, I believe. They’ll be her first thing in the morning to get Nari.”
“They are good people, those Kangs. I’m happy you have normal neighbors and not some weirdos. Especially when they know there’s a girl living alone, it makes you vulnerable.”
“Because a couple in their early thirties definitely can’t be perpetrators. Bonus points if they have a daughter.”
“I’m just concerned for my little baby girl. You know it’s difficult for us now that you’ve moved out. Your father doesn’t say much, but he hasn’t stepped foot in your bedroom after the last box was carried out.”
And as much as you wanted to tell her, ‘Mom, I’m not your little baby girl anymore’, the words wouldn’t roll off your tongue. Perhaps it was the mention of your father’s somber behavior — someone you never saw without a smile on his face — or you were missing them equally as much as they missed you.
“I know, mom. But it was a question of when I’d move out, I mean, it would happen eventually and here we are.”
“Well, I don’t care. You’ll be my baby until they stuff me down below.”
“Mom!”
“It’s true! Adult or not, I’m still your mother and will always be. Doesn’t matter if you’re five, fifty or five hundred. Now, I don’t want to hold you off any longer, it’s quite late and you have an early start tomorrow. I love you, my sweet girl.”
“I love you too, mom. Hug dad for me, would you?”
“Of course. Good night, sweetie.”
“Goodnight.”
Plopping down on the sofa barely big enough for three, your phone lightened with a gentle tap of your thumb. The wallpaper was a picture of you standing behind your parents with the family cat seated on your mom’s lap. It was taken days before you’d leave for Seoul (your mom insisted you take another family portrait to match the collection of the already existing thirty something photos). Your two hours were spent aimlessly scrolling through various social media apps, seeing what news and events you missed out on while entertaining the previously energetic seven-year-old. Amidst your scrolling, the three full bars of the Wi-F emoticon turned transparent. Not thinking much of it, you opted for resetting your router, but nothing changed. Even your data roaming wasn’t working.
“Huh? That’s weird,” you mumbled to yourself.
The device quickly lost its value and was forgotten on the coffee table as you reached for the TV remote. That proved to be useless too as a multitude of colors covered the screen with the words ‘No Signal’ staring right back at you. Growing up in the countryside, you weren’t all too shaken over the loss of Wi-Fi, but considering you were now residing in the heart of South Korea, where everything was supposed to be ten times better and faster, you were left with a queasy feeling. Giving the government — or whoever was in charge of these operators — the benefit of the doubt, you decided to get ready for bed. The internet would be back sooner or later, that’s how it was in your hometown at least.
You gently peeked inside your bedroom and with the reassuring sight of Nari still in a deep slumber, you resumed to the bathroom.
“Maybe it’s a sign to tune in for the night.”
Watching yourself in the bathroom mirror, you shrugged and got to washing up. As you completed the long list of your skincare routine and dried your face with a towel, you didn’t expect to be met with sudden darkness and nearly fell into the bathtub. Regaining your composure, your feet were glued to the floor and ars extra sharp, listening for anything suspicious on the other side of the door. You couldn’t help but think someone had broken into your flat. To your fear, a silent creak echoed throughout the apartment followed by rapid pattering of feet. A whimper — you would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the complete silence — slipped through the tight space between the door and threshold.
“Auntie?”
The speed you unlocked the door at should be studied by a group of scientists. You wasted no time crouching before Nari which she saw as an invitation to sling herself in your embrace. The few solar sticks shoved into your window baskets provided your apartment with enough light to avoid bumping into furniture as you entered the living room. The TV had gone from a bright rainbow to a void of nothing, enveloping you in complete darkness. A simple fuse going out wouldn’t turn off the power in your entire apartment and you wondered if the whole building was without electricity.
“Why is it dark?” She whispered against your shoulder.
“I don’t know, sweetie. I think the power went out. Wanna see if there are any candles laying around?”
Grabbing your phone from its place, you quickly put on the flashlight and rummaged through your cabinets for anything useful. If you knew your mother at all, you were certain she snuck in some candles or a real flashlight while you were busy carrying boxes with your dad. Opening the second-to-last drawer, you found what you were looking for and in that moment it was a treasure bigger than gold.
“Looks like auntie had some candles after all.”
With the help of Nari — who actually just watched you scatter the candles everywhere — you managed to bring more light into the apartment.
“Isn’t this much better?” You asked and Nari nodded while shuffling to one end of the sofa, her knees brought up to her chest and her hair a mess from the short nap.
“When will the lights be back?”
Honestly, you didn’t know, but sensing it would spread more worry than comfort, you weren’t about to let her know that. She was already spooked from the sudden blackout and you weren’t all that keen on consoling a distressed child a quarter to midnight.
“Soon. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, how about you go bring me your pretty pink hairbrush and I’ll fix your pigtails for you?”
You watched Nari run off into your bedroom and gave yourself a pat on the back for handling the situation quite smoothly. With the power out, you had no option but to save the battery on your phone, thus turning off the flashlight and relying on the candles for guidance. Not to sound entitled, but you truly thought the outages would be left in your hometown and wouldn’t follow you all the way to Seoul. Trying to go against the odds, you checked your phone again and noticed the service was completely wiped out. The top of your screen looked rather naked as the battery percentage glared at you tauntingly.
Now would be a good time to worry. Water seeped through the ventilations in your flat and hastily rose upwards. Parts of your body turned numb at immediate contact and your nightgown stuck to your cold skin. You looked around. Your living room was flooding, but no one did anything. No one came to help. The world was still spinning and you were slowly drowning. As your view was obscured by a beautiful hue of blue everything stopped.
It was quiet, but your thoughts were loud. Submerging underwater was supposed to give a sense of tranquility yet there you were, struggling to tame the voices in your mind. It was first when you parted your lips for an intake of air that they simmered out and a wave of panic washed over you as water gushed down your throat and into your lungs. Your mouth clamped shut and you made grabby motions as if you’d latch onto a plug and the water would magically go down a drain. The lack of oxygen caused darkness to cloud your sight and a force so tight wrapped around your head you thought it was going to explode. Fire burned your lungs and something clawed at your throat, but you refused to inhale again. It was scary. The fight was slowly leaving your body and right when you heard death calling for you, a bubbly call of your name brought you back to reality and suddenly there was no evidence of the translucent liquid ever being in your living room.
“Here you go, auntie.”
Nari reclaimed her seat on the couch, the only difference being her back turned toward you. Releasing a shuddering breath, you took the brush from her and tried to differentiate between reality and imagination. This seemed to be real, you thought and got to work, despite your heart banging against your chest. With gentle touches, you removed the ties from her hair and combed it until silky smooth. To your relief and her luck, the strands weren’t tangled together and allowed the brush to run freely. Deeming her hair neat enough, you parted it down the middle and into two sections, and redid her pigtails from earlier. It was an easy hairstyle and suited her pretty face. You looped both your index fingers through each tail and giggled at the cuteness.
“There you go. All done, little flower.”
“Thank you, auntie!”
Nari turned around and wrapped her arms around your waist, her cheek mushed against your stomach and your heart soared with joy. The display of affection was enough to keep your head on and not worry about all the connected dots seemingly leading back to the power outage. Besides, you couldn’t act recklessly. If Nari caught wind of your unease, you could confidently say she’d spiral into a panic of her own.
“Of course… Now I was thinking with the power out, how would it sound if we raided my freezer for some ice cream? I mean, it will turn bad otherwise.”
The Kangs were quite strict with Nari and sweets, in the sense that they didn’t want her over consuming before bed or on weekdays. Something about having a balanced diet. It wasn’t anything you had a say in and if you wanted to be paid at the end of the day as well as avoid a lawsuit, you were going to ensure Nari followed those rules. But considering something was out of the ordinary and with your endless supply of ice cream, you couldn’t bother with what her parents had to say.
While she was shifting between eating the flavors of strawberry, chocolate, banana, raspberry and vanilla ice cream, you pondered over the elephant in the room. Knowing now it wasn’t something solely affecting your apartment complex, but the whole city, you were trying your hardest not to freak out. Perhaps some vigilante had hacked into the government and planned on leaking some top secret files? Were you going to war? A sign of an earthquake?
“Auntie?”
“Yes, Nari?”
“I’m sleepy. I’m sorry your ice cream will go bad.”
“Don’t worry about that. It was too much for just the two of us anyway.” You patted the top of her head and she childishly beamed at you, immediately illuminating the room better than any light source created. “Wanna get ready for bed again?”
As you stood up, you expected Nari to follow, but the child was still seated. Her feet brushed against each other while she picked around her fingernails. She avoided your eyes, her gaze trained on her fiddling hands.
“Is something wrong?”
The mumbled words were far too quiet for you to make sense of and with a polite request to repeat herself, Nari spoke again, a tad bit louder than before. “I don’t wanna sleep in the dark.”
A crack went down the middle of your heart and echoed loudly in your eardrums. Her sullen attitude caught you off guard, but knowing the reason behind it, you now wondered if she was used to being chastised or mocked for her fear in the walls of her home. Whatever it was, you weren’t going to endorse that behavior.
“We could…” You began and waited for her to meet your gaze. Her little eyes carried a plethora of stars and you had to hold back from pinching her chubby cheeks. “Have a sleepover, right here.”
The stars in her eyes grew in size and twinkled brighter than any night sky. Her previously pouty lips curled in a sugary smile that cured any type of sadness. The child was up in seconds, already rearranging the pillow to her liking and claiming her side of the sofa.
“Okay, flower. It’s time for another brushing session.”
Luckily, Nari didn’t appear like a kicked puppy and happily skipped to the bathroom instead. Your phone in her hands lit up her path despite the candles burning for the same purpose. You released a breath of relief and whisked out two blankets from your bedroom as well as one of Nari’s stuffed toys. She had spent enough nights under your watch to know she’d ask for either Sir Fluffington (a rabbit with one of its ears ripped off) or Spiderfrog (a purple ladybug). Coming out of your bedroom, you were surprised to see Nari sitting on the sofa, legs tucked beneath her bum and arms hidden underneath her shirt making her look armless.
“Oh, you’re done already?”
“The water is not working.”
Dropping the soft objects on the couch, your brows scrunched together. “What?”
“I opened the sink and the water didn’t come. It was first brown, like poopy water and then it disappeared.”
Disregarding her easy mix up between a tap and a sink, you flew across the room to the kitchen and as feared, no water came out. Something was wrong. How big of a coincidence would it be that the electricity, internet and water were out of function?
Swallowing the lump growing in your dry throat — a placebo created by the knowledge you had no running water — you faced Nari and ushered her under the covers.
“I’m positive it’s nothing. The water and power will be back when we wake up.” Shuffling beside her, you handed her both Sir Fluffington and Spiderfrog, an easy distraction from the weird occurrences.
“Can we sleep with the lights on?”
“Yeah, I won’t blow out all the candles until you’re asleep. Is that alright?”
Nari nodded and tucked both of her stuffies beneath the blanket then brought it up to her chin. You gave your phone one last glance, sighing at the red battery and lack of a signal. Just your luck, you thought and let it back down.
“Good night, auntie.”
Nari’s breaths evened quicker than you could reply back and soon you too struggled with keeping your eyes open. As promised, you blew out the candles — starting a building fire was not a part of your bucket list — and came back to bed. Fatigue weighing more than three bags of flour tugged on your eyelids and it was easier to give into the darkness than fight it. Besides, you’d rather not stay awake and theorize over all the possibilities as to why the country seemed to be out of function.
“Night, flower.”
The trip to dreamland was short and didn’t last for longer than two hours. You woke with a startle, your body covered in a sheen of sweat and heart loud in your ears. It wasn’t because of your neighbor’s early shenanigans of rearranging furniture or a fast food delivery guy knocking on the wrong door, but people talking, or rather screaming, in the corridor of the apartment building. Nari was still sleeping soundly next to you, seeming nothing in the world was able to disturb her. It wasn’t because of your neighbor’s early shenanigans of rearranging furniture or a fast food delivery guy knocking on the wrong door. Still surrounded by darkness, you hastily grabbed your phone and blinded yourself as — what felt like — a hundred suns appeared right before your eyes. The numbers showed it was a little past two in the morning.
A commotion of multiple bodies running and sharp tones turning into faint screams, had you standing on your feet. The walls of the apartment were thin, but not enough for you to make out what was being said. It couldn’t be a normal argument between neighbors if the shouting went from anger to fear, hands pounding against doors with pleas of being let inside. You didn’t move until a bloodcurdling scream echoed through the stairwell. In all your years on this earth, you never heard a being make such painful and horrifying sounds. Not even movies portraying the most gruesome torture scene could be compared to what your ears were witnessing. You couldn’t describe it even if you wanted to. All you knew was that it touched your core, nearly cutting all mobility in your legs. The screaming didn’t stop for a while, but when it did everything turned silent. The silence in the dead of a night with everyone asleep; no engine rumbling, no people talking and no animals wandering around. Complete and utter silence.
By some miracle, you managed to get closer to your door without stumbling into something and for once in your life you were grateful for your mother’s nagging about checking the locks. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. You could feel it in your bones, like birds sensing the beginning of a natural hazard. It wasn’t something you could explain either and if you tried, whoever was on the receiving end would probably call you crazy, but it didn’t matter because there was no one to convince of said feeling. Nari was too young to indulge in and she was at the age where children questioned everything. Giving her one last glance, reassuring yourself she was still asleep, you stepped closer to the door and prepared yourself to look through the peephole. It was first then you felt the side effects of not having water as your throat was uncomfortably dry and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Whatever you were going to see — hopefully nothing — on the other side of the door, you weren’t sure if you were mentally prepared for it.
“Auntie?”
Like the hands of a grandfather clock reaching an hour, your heart chimed loudly in your ears, pushing all the air out from your lungs and freezing the blood in your veins. The childish voice didn’t ease your worries and for a moment you thought a scene from the movie Orphan played out in your life. The crazy thought lasted for a split second until you remembered why there was a child in your flat to begin with.
“What are you doing?”
Facing Nari, you exhaled and mustered up a gentle smile. “I thought I… Nothing. I’m not doing anything.”
As you stepped away from the door, an internal battle broke out in your head. The logic in you argued it was nothing but a speck of your imagination while your gut feeling threw all sense out of the window and was ready to die on the hill that something wasn’t quite right.
“Did you hear it too?”
That was all the reason your gut needed to push logic out of the window. Swallowing dry air, your tongue darted out over your bottom lip. Inhaling a shaky breath which was a failed attempt at calming your nerves, you decided to see where the conversation would go.
“Hear what, flower?”
What Nari said next confirmed you weren’t crazy.
“The screaming,” she emphasized, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I… uh…”
As you parted your lips to say something — what, you didn’t know — a faint scratching noise sounded from behind your door. The best way to describe it would be a fingernail being dragged along the wooden surface. It was nearly undetectable, but with the silence in the apartment the sound was loud enough to interrupt your conversation and spread another wave of fear through your body. Nari whimpered, obviously still affected by the screaming from before, and quickly threw the blanket over her head. Sir Fluffington and Spiderfrog squished under each of her armpits.
Hanging onto the thin rope of sanity left in your body, you coaxed yourself into believing it wasn’t anything to be frightened over. The whistling wind could be heard every once in a while, right?
“Don’t go,” Nari squeaked. She was clearly scared of you going out into the hallway and while you admired her thoughtfulness, you had to remind her you didn’t have a single brave bone in your body.
“I won’t,” you whispered back. “I just want to see.”
If the situation wasn’t so eerie, you’d be laughing at her concern. Nari acted as if whoever was out there would grab you through the keyhole and you’d disappear somewhere akin to Raccoon City or The Upside Down. But you didn’t laugh because the possibility of that happening scared even you, a grown adult with her frontal lobe fully developed.
Exhaling, you flicked the metallic cover of the peephole and stared into an abyss of darkness. The green flickering light of an exit sign illuminated the hallway for a split second before everything turned black again. It continued on like that for a moment and each time the light came back on, you expected something grotesque to stare right back at you, but there was nothing.
“Ha, like I thought. There’s no one the–”
Your voice died in your throat as the lightbulb died only to be brought back to life. The only difference being a figure standing in your line of sight. The green light was gone in a second, not allowing you to see who it was, but when one sense was diluted, the remaining four heightened.
“Help.”
The voice, if you could call it that, sounded like it belonged to a chainsmoker of fifty years. Raspy — not in a sexy way — and weak. They were wheezing for air and almost choked on their own saliva. It wasn’t until the hallway lit up again that you could make out what was presented before you. Mr. Shin from the level below you with ears that were good for nothing and his obnoxiously loud Yorkshire terrier. However, you couldn’t recall him being a smoker or having a gruff voice. Thinking about it, the elder hated anything to do with cigarettes. The smell, the long list of side effects and not to mention the higher risk of being prone to lung cancer.
None of those facts were important though, because what you were seeing nearly sent you on your backside.
Mr. Shin’s head was abnormally tilted to the right and something sharp, and white, boney, stuck out of his neck. The liquid he was choking on was in fact not his saliva, but buckets of blood. Dark, thick, blood seeping out of his neck and mouth, making it hard for him to speak.
“Open… Help me.”
Lights off. Lights on.
A big chunk of skin and meat was torn right out of his shoulder, coating his arm in a wine-red liquid nearly having you spilling your guts out. Clamping a hand over your mouth, both to keep your food inside and not to let out a scream of terror, you moved backwards. You felt sick. Your stomach was up to your chest and your pulse was so quick the beats per minute were impossible to count. The few words leaving Mr. Shin became a jumbled mess of groans and growls. His pleas for help and demands of you opening the door were indistinguishable, something not even an aggravated dog would let out. The scratching turned into slamming fists and jerks of the handle.
Your phone was useless and there was no other way to get hold of an emergency service. Mr. Shin obviously needed help. He had always been kind to you; he bought you a fresh basket of peaches each month and collected the morning mail for you. There was yet a moment for you to repay him and now would be the perfect chance to give back for all his numerous favors. Not thinking much, you turned the lock west and the door opened on its own as a stumbling Mr. Shin entered your apartment.
“Mr. Shin what happen–”
It was as if he was possessed. The man old enough to be your grandfather staggered over the threshold and grabbed onto your shoulders, forcefully pulling you towards him. Your left hand pushed against his ribcage as you simultaneously pressed your other hand against his throat, your fingers digging into the open wound and getting coated in red. As the lights seeped into your apartment, you saw his lifeless eyes, red mouth and pale face. Your scream was loud enough to wake the whole of Seoul.
Still struck by the image of your kind neighbor looking like the upper part of him was put through a rusty meat grinder, you stumbled over your own feet and fell flat on your rear with Mr. Shin following in tow. Your throat was turning sore from all the screaming that didn’t reach your own ears. He didn’t stop his advances and his mouth was opening and closing in a biting manner, his rotten teeth loudly chomping against each other snapping you in and out of your screams.
“Stop! Mr. Shin!”
It was as if you said the complete opposite as he fought against your pushing hands. Your hand which was previously on his ribs jumped up to his shoulder and gradually slid further up his neck. In the midst of your fright and panic, you latched onto the bone sticking out of his body. It was cold and sturdy, and so incredibly nasty that you nearly puked all over yourself like a wasted teenager coming home from a night out in the club. The friendly face of Mr. Shin with deep dimples and moon creasing eyes was void of any happiness.
“Please, stop,” you cried out. Hot tears kissing your cheeks and lips wobbly.
You were left with no choice. Using all the strength you could muster, you dragged both hands in opposite directions. Like opening a newspaper with force and not stopping until it tore in half, his skin parted in the middle with more blood and tissue seeped out of him and straight down on you, coating your pink nightgown and bare skin. A modern version of Carrie.
A whispered apology left your mouth and what was once whole was split into two. The body of Mr. Shin slumped down over you while his groaning head rolled across your living room floor. You scrambled away from the corpse and didn’t stop until your back was against the couch, where a crying Nari loomed over you.
“What the fuck? What. The. Fuck!”
Your hands shook uncontrollably. In an attempt to calm down, you weaved them into your hair, gently tugging at the strands while trying to arrange your fleeting thoughts into something rational. It was impossible. There were so many questions and not one answer. You didn’t know how long you sat there for. Maybe ten minutes? Twenty? An hour? Everything blurred together, but it were the wails of Nari that cleared up the mist you found yourself in.
Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you saw her on the complete opposite end of the sofa. The blanket you provided her with was brought up to her chin. She was red as a cherry tomato, presumably from all the crying. As you somehow got up on your feet, her crying turned up in volume and you realized she was afraid of you. Thanks to the red smeared all over your body, that little mind of hers couldn’t differentiate between you and Mr. Shin. Probably assuming what happened to him got you too.
“Nari, little flower.” She peeked between her fingers obscuring her view. “I’m alright. I’m not…”
I’m not like him. I’m safe. I’m well.
“I’m okay.”
Three years had passed since the outbreak started. One thousand and something-something days of moving from location to location, clearing rundown gas stations and seven-elevens, surviving on canned food and dried fruits and nuts. It wasn’t particularly easy surviving an apocalypse with a child. The first month was spent shifting between crying for her parents and then mentally aging half a year every day. You, on the other hand, promised no more tears would be shed ever since you decapitated your sweet grandpa of a neighbor. A decision made for the safety of both yourself and Nari. The girl that was thrust into your care for a few hours turned into a lifelong partner, however long that would be.
Perched on the roof of an apartment building you spent the past month temporarily residing in, you thoroughly examined all the stuff you needed for the long journey waiting ahead. With the little resources you had left, it was safe to say your time in the capital was coming to an end. Every store in a one-mile radius had been emptied and those that were still full of necessities were in the red zone, also labeled a suicide mission.
A shadow loomed over you, obscuring the sun from your view and providing you with a cooling shade. “You tell me not to sit in the sun, but you’re doing the complete opposite?”
You looked up at Nari, your brows scrunched together and mouth pressed into a straight line. It was a poor attempt at a joke, Nari knew that much, but it didn’t stop her from sharing her lame humor with you even if it didn’t go far. Glancing between a packet of bandages and the bottle of alcohol, you weighed your options before throwing in the alcohol. If either of you got hurt, it’d be better to clean the wound with alcohol than to plaster on a bandage and call it a day.
Zipping up your backpack, you got on your feet and threw it around your shoulder. “Do as I say, not as I do.”
“That’s no fun.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. The oversized cap you found in a local store shop was one or two sizes too big for her head, but would fit right in about a year.
“Because fun gets you killed.”
You pushed the cap further down on her head and headed for the stairway. The sun was high in the sky and while it would be best to wait for the heat to pass, it would leave you with a lot of walking in the dark. Not the most ideal time to be outside as the biters were more active during the night.
“Okay, so when can I get a weapon? Like a gun-gun. Not a sharp stick.”
“We’ve already talked about this, Nari. The adult has the gun and the child keeps the map.”
“The map won’t help me fight bad guys.”
You clicked your tongue and patted yourself down. The knife was in the holder attached to your hip and your gun was loaded with the safety lock on, resting against your other hip.
“No, but it will help you find safety which means no bad guys to encounter.” You unclasped the big chains looped through the metal handles of the roof entrance and opened the doors. “Ready?”
“As long as we find anything besides chips. Like was there an overconsumption of the salty potatoes in twenty-twenty four or what? Why are the stores full of them? I don’t get it. They taste like eating a handful of salt.”
Inheriting the guardian role of a child wasn’t something you planned to do until much later on in life. You weren’t prepared to take care of another being, let alone be responsible for their growth and not let them take on the personality of a psychopath. Through the long year of parenting and providing shelter and safety, you had a hard time finding the perfect balance between a strict and laid back aunt. While Nari still deserved to experience the life of a normal child, you were aware normal in a world full of rotting cannibals wasn’t the same as a year ago. Instead of playing with dolls and cars, children were taught how to work a gun and where to aim for a hundred percent kill.
Nari knew the theoristics. Their senses were diluted in the day and heightened at night, but a speck of blood would leave you vulnerable at any hour. The heart and brain were the weak points. For absolute certainty it was best to aim for the head even if a bullet was already lodged through their hearts. She knew all these facts, but had yet to take on a biter. Her kill count was a zero whilst you stopped counting after double digits. It was another thing you had taken upon your shoulders. As long as you were breathing and capable of clearing the path off obstacles, Nari’s hands would remain clean.
Before she could walk through the doors and take the lead, your arm shot out and halted her in place. A serious expression took over your features as you held Nari’s gaze.
“Remember; I need to see you and hear you at all times. Don’t stray from my line of vision, don’t just walk away and in case of an emergency–”
“Hide, sit and wait it out or run until my lungs are about to explode and my feet are covered in blisters.”
You inhaled deeply. Future you would either come to regret this decision or thank the heavens. From the pouch wrapped around your thigh, you took out a small switchblade.
“Good. That’s good.”
You flipped open the blade and wiped it against your thigh before folding it again. The switchblade wasn’t much of a use to you, ever since you found the combat knife hidden in the armory of some old man’s apartment. It was your companion for a little more than a year and saved you from a lot of trouble, but it was time to pass it on.
“I’m thinking…”
“Is that for me? Am I finally getting a weapon?!”
“As I was saying before being rudely interrupted, I was thinking of giving you my old switchblade.” You could practically see stars light up in her eyes. “But with the promise you won’t use it unless absolutely necessary, okay? That means it’s in your pockets and I only want to see it in your hand if it’s a life-or-death situation.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Nari shuffled excitedly on her feet and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say your persistent rant entered through one ear and out the other.
Sighing again, you handed it over and watched with attentive eyes as she tested its functions. Then, as ordered, she stuffed it in her back pocket and gave you a determined nod. Leading the way down the long flight of stairs, you shared the plan you put together over the span of three days while Nari was asleep and you kept watch.
“I think it’s best if we head south. Most of the infected have probably been drawn by the loud sounds in the big cities, leaving the countryside vulnerable. The only thing I’m worried about is coming across other humans.”
“Sounds good. We can maybe grow crops and have cows or pigs? Aw, man, now I’m hungry for some pork belly.”
It was in these moments you were grateful for Nari’s presence. Her childish takes and questions were what kept your sanity intact. If it weren’t for her, you’d probably be roaming the infected streets like a lifeless monster gnawing at other humans.
“Sure. We’ll see what we can find, but ideally it’d be best to find shelter and then animals.”
“As long as I get to own a fluffy cow, I don’t care when or where. Don’t you think it’d be cool if I put a saddle on it and killed biters while riding her?”
The glare she received was hotter than the scorching sun and sharper than your knife. It was enough to keep her quiet for the majority of the journey, but it could only last for so long before she started firing questions again.
“Can I make a birthday wish this year? I promise to keep it realistic.”
You spotted a secluded shop that was yet to be raided for its goods. The windows were covered by planks — they seemed to be placed in a hurry — placed askew and barely shielding the glass panes behind the wood. The door was untouched, not a scratch on it besides the color chipping away and rust collecting on the chain tied around the handles. Nari was a smart kid. For her seventh birthday she didn’t ask for anything extravagant. A new pair of clothes, preferably a pink shirt and shoes. Because of safety reasons, the shoes were out of the picture unless you wanted to be an easy target. It’d be like spotting a Christmas tree in the middle of July. It wasn’t until her ninth year came around that she asked for the impossible; a dog. You couldn’t find a group of people that weren't out to kill you, let alone a creature with the appetite of a starving jaguar.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Teach me how to use a gun?”
The four cans of peaches were placed close at hand and you quickly scooped them into your bag as the question looped in your mind. In a perfect world where people didn’t turn into rotting cannibalistic creatures, you’d never entertain the idea of a ten-year-old handling a weapon. But the world wasn’t perfect and her birthday wish was more logical than her wanting a Barbie doll. You really wanted to say no. Use the excuse of wanting to protect her innocence for a few more years, but what good would that bring her in a moment of desperation? What would be worse, a longer life haunted by nightmares or a short one full of flowers and bees?
“If we find a little one,” you muttered lowly and handed her a pack of sealed batteries.
She squealed and you masked your own smile with a scowl that immediately had her pressing a hand up to her mouth, a futile attempt to suppress the gleeful noise.
“Gotta make sure we don’t die before that though. You keep watch while I scavenge the place for anything useful. We’re leaving in five.”
The shelves were full. It was harder to pick things when you had more to choose from. You wanted nothing more than to stuff everything into two duffel bags and be on your merry way, but it would get you nowhere. The five minutes were spent choosing between bandages and medicine or extra food and nutrition. As you gave in and stuffed the two sealed medkits, the sharp whistle of a bird sounded through the store. Your head snapped up as cans clattered to the ground. Forgetting about the other necessities, you zipped up your bag and hid behind the shelves in the back where Nari too had taken shelter.
“What did you see?”
“A car. It stopped right out front, but I didn’t see who came out.”
The sound of the door opening killed the hushed conversation. Quite some time passed since you encountered other people, but each run-in was always more unpleasant than the previous and it left a sour taste in your mouth. Avoiding biters was easy — the creatures had rotting brains with no critical thinking — it was dealing with other humans that gave you a fright. There were already psychos in the normal world and you didn’t want to imagine what demons you’d be dealing with now.
Nari quietly slid down and sat on the floor, knees pressed up to her chest and a hand over her mouth, while you pulled out your gun and knife. Your wrists connected, making a human cross and the hand holding your gun rested on top of the one clutching the blade. Your finger was on the trigger with no fear of firing a bullet or two; anything to secure your survival.
The footsteps belonged to one person and you hoped whoever it was didn’t bring a friend. In a circumstance with the dead you’d throw something sturdy in the opposite direction of you, but dealing with other humans would take more than some trick. The best would be to avoid any bloodshed, take the car and leave fast as fuck.
As the walking ceased so did your thoughts and you were certain your heart could be heard all through Seoul. A can of pears rolled by, passing your hiding forms and stopped as it hit the wall opposite. Whoever was there seemed to have found the tumbled cans, a give-away that they weren’t alone.
“Come out,” they said calmly. The voice was deep and belonged to a man.
A curse died in your throat. Weighing your options, you glanced down at Nari and signaled for her to stay put. The man was obviously aware of your presence and with you as a distraction, Nari could get out. You weren’t worried about yourself more so over her safety. You could cut and swing and shoot, but Nari could only run and slash, and even that wouldn’t get her far. Left with no choice, you stepped out of your hiding with your arms locked and gun poised straight at the man.
Yeah, Nari would have a zero percent chance of outrunning this guy. He was taller than the shelves and the majority of his body consisted of legs and muscle. Not only that, but his arms were long too and he’d probably get to you in three steps or less, hands quick to grasp at your shoulders and neck. Hand-to-hand combat would leave you with a guaranteed loss and the safest bet would be to keep him at three arms lengths. Speaking of arms, he wore a black leather jacket. In fact, he as a whole was covered in black clothing — except for the white cap on his head — even his hands were adorned with fingerless gloves. Quite strange as you were in the middle of summer, but you had seen stranger things. Trailing downwards, you noticed a gun was semi-hiding beneath his jacket and you wondered what else dangerous he kept out of view.
The cock of a gun snatched your attention. A gun — much bigger than yours — was in one of his hands and he made it out to be the size of a teaspoon. It looked ridiculous. Not only was this man tall as a skyscraper, but his hands were big enough to crush your head in.
Appearance wise — besides the overly traumatic analytic of his body proportions — he was quite handsome for living in an apocalypse, and clean too. Dark brown hair that tickled his nape and a fringe which nearly fell in front of his eyes. A long nose and round, but serious eyes which didn’t leave your figure since stepping in his line of vision. His lips, formed with a cupid’s bow, were pressed together and quite dry. If it weren’t for your unfortunate situation and the fact you didn’t care about him, you’d maybe offer him one of the hundred lip balms hanging by the cash register.
“Who are you?”
It must have been the dumbest question to date. What value did your identity have in a fucked up world?
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“And I asked first.”
You’ve held more mature conversations with Nari than this guy.
Sensing you weren’t willing to give up any personal information, he tried approaching the situation in a different manner. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” you answered without skipping a beat. Your eyes were locked on his, refusing to glance in Nari’s direction.
The silent battle of not moving lasted for a few more seconds until he decided to break it.
“I’m Yunho.”
The muscles of your mouth twitched downward and you tightened the hold on your gun, the trigger still being hugged by your pointer finger. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if his name was Yunho, Bruno or Minho.
“I’m not here to cause trouble, I’m just looking for supplies. There’s a group of us, all very hungry and tired. We could use some of the food in here.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.”
The corners of his lips curled in an amused grin. “No, they can’t, but all I’m asking for is a bit of compassion. You’re one person. We are a group of thirty-forty people. You surely don’t need all the food in here?”
A silly question. Everyone was either starving or injured, not to speak of completely sleep-deprived. Of course you needed everything. From the smallest piece of crumb to the most out of date canned fruit.
“Compassion flew out the window the moment I was attacked by other people. Who’s to say you won’t do the same?”
“If I wanted you dead, you’d have a bullet lodged between your eyes by now.”
Fuck this guy, you were not giving him shit.
“That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it? However, I don’t think you’d let me leave with anything to be honest,” he chuckled and lowered his gun. A bold move for a guy who was deliberately pissing you off.
“You’re finally getting the hang of things around here. I advise you to leave while I’m still being civil. It’d be a shame to end the life of someone so brave. Risking your life for thirty-something people. That’s hard to find nowadays.”
“Doesn’t take much. Maybe you should try it sometime.”
A comeback rested on the tip of your tongue, but was swallowed with a startle as vehicle lights seeped through the sealed windows and the squealing sound of tires coming to a stop outside. You slid back behind the shelf where Nari was still seated on the dirty floor, but shimmied more over to the left so you could fit better. Both flinched as Yunho rounded the same corner. His eyes grew comically in size at the sight of Nari and if it weren’t for the newcomers, you were confident he’d make a comment about her presence. Probably something about honesty getting you far, which you clearly lacked, and you’d argue it left you with nothing but a broken nose.
As the door opened and multiple footsteps echoed through the store, Yunho stepped closer to you. His right hand came up next to your face as the other raised his gun, ready to attack if given the chance. His right hand was tense against the shelf and the only reason he wasn’t completely pressed up against you. The position was uncomfortable and you could smell a faint fragrance of lavender and some other herb emitting from his wrist next to your face. His other hand was raised up to his cheek, the pointer finger on the trigger and his face turned sideways as if to work out when would be the best time to attack.
“Be careful, that engine was still hot. They couldn’t have gone very far,” a gruff voice exploded through the store. Great more men.
“Looks like this one wasn’t raided, Boss,” another man announced, his voice squeaky and unpleasant for the ears, as a third guy whooped in delight.
Light as a feather, your fingers brushed against his elbow closest to your head and the brief contact was enough for him to find your eyes. You nodded to something behind him and Yunho held your gaze before slightly turning sideways. A door was left ajar. Usually, you’d never enter a space without checking it free from infected or traps, but it was either meeting these strangers head on with a guy you were ready to blow the head off a few seconds ago or going head on into danger.
Yunho prodded the side of his cheek with his tongue and pointed at Nari. He wanted her to go first, but you were quick to shut the thought down. As much as it drove you crazy to leave Nari in his wake for a moment or two, it was safer than having her deal with biters alone. Your pointer finger was driven into his peck and Yunho shook his head. What a gentleman. There was no time to argue so you pointed at yourself, then at Nari and lastly at Yunho. He wordlessly agreed and you gave a quick pat to the top of Nari’s head. As you pushed off the shelf, Yunho grabbed your bicep and it took everything in you not to drive your knife in the side of his torso. It was then you discovered one of the men standing in your blindspot and had you stepped out he would’ve definitely seen you. The man turned around and Yunho’s fingers were off you in seconds, giving you the green light to go. Stealthy as a cat and quick as a bunny, you disappeared behind the door without alerting the men.
You found yourself in a passageway leading to a bigger space which you recognized as a storage room. The rest of the room was bigger than the front of the store and somewhere in the far back, behind stacks of prepackaged foods and other goods, you could see a green emergency sign, probably a door leading to the outside world. Your only concern being if something was against it on the other side. Seconds later, Nari came through and the world spun faster than it’s normal at a thousand miles per hour.
“We have to help him!” She hissed and pulled at your wrist back to where you came from.
“Help who?”
“Yunho! They’ve spotted him or, no, they saw me, but he went out of hiding so they wouldn’t go after me.”
“Nari, stop. We have to go.”
“What!? We can’t just leave him.”
You tore your wrist out of her grip and latched onto her shoulders in return. “The fuck we can’t. He’s not my priority. You are.”
“He tried to help us and even got us both to safety! Please, auntie, it’s the right thing to do.”
“What did I tell you about playing the hero? We’re not in some video game, Nari. It’s the real world. Just because it’s right doesn’t mean you’ll get out of there alive and I’ve done a lot to ensure our safety. I won’t let some stupid men be the reason I lose you, do you hear me?”
She shook out of your embrace and pushed you back. Tears littered her waterline and lips wobbled from holding back sobs. “Why are you so mean?”
No punch to the gut would make you lose your breath the way those five words did. How would you explain to a child that the last years were all for her own good at the same time as you were letting someone else die?
“Fuck,” you whispered and clutched the roots of your hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You checked the magazine of your gun and counted six bullets. All you needed was three.
“Okay, fuck. Here’s what we’ll do. You clear this area. Take anything that’s useful and not heavy, okay? I’ll go check the situation outside. Whatever happens, don’t fucking think of coming for us. Do you understand?”
“But–”
“I said, do you understand?”
Hesitation swirled in Nari’s eyes and she gnawed on her lower lip. Agreeing with your conditions meant she was practically leaving you for the dead and while you always returned, safe and untouched, it made her more aware of this being real with no take-backs. Remembering the kindness Yunho showed within the second he met you, Nari couldn’t take it for granted and be selfish.
“I understand.”
Slamming the magazine back in your gun, you nodded. “Good. If I’m not back in a few, get out and run.”
First, you were unofficially tasked with guarding a literal child, and now you were sent on a rescue mission for a literal stranger.
The door was still not entirely closed and before you dared to peek your head out, a couple voices along with Yunho’s filled the silence. “I’m telling you, I came alone.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that the Wrangler outside is driven by one man only? Be honest, how many people do you have hiding in the storage room?”
Yunho sighed exasperatedly. “Four less than what’s out here, so you do the math.”
“Boss, this guy thinks he’s funny. Want me to take him out or leave him to suffer?” The pipsqueak asked and by his voice alone you could guess he wasn’t much taller than a fifth grader.
“Don’t do shit, Mouse. I want to find that lil girl first.”
The blood in your veins ran cold at the mention of Nari. Now you had to kill them or they’d circle back to you.
“Say less, Boss.”
“Lizard, keep your eye on him and Mouse? Go check that room.”
Changing positions, you hid behind the door, handgun exchanged with your combat knife and raised up in front of you. The heartbeats were loud in your ears and mouth dry from nervousness. All you had to do was catch him off guard and the rest would fall into place.
The door opened inward and you pressed further into the wall, completely disappearing from his line of sight. Gently, you nudged it back in place and stalked behind the supposed Mouse. You were right, the man wasn’t tall and Yunho put him to shame with those long legs of his. Light on your feet almost as if floating through the air, you inched closer to him and advanced. Your hand went over his mouth, index finger and thumb pinching his nose shut, and the knife plunged hard into his back. Mouse barely struggled, which was a given, and you gently let him down. To guarantee he wouldn’t come back and bite you in the ass, quite literally, you allowed the blade to go through his skull, ending any chance of possessed resurrection.
One down. Two to go.
It would only be a question of time until their boss sent out the second guy to look for Mr. Pipsqueak over here and it wasn’t like you could dispose of the body and clean up all the blood. Whatever you’d do next would catch the attention of the leader and you hoped Yunho’s height wasn’t just a show off, but that he could actually take him on. For all you know they could be from the same community. Yunho did mention they were thirty to forty people.
Taking Mouse by his armpits, you dragged the body away from the door and hid it behind some crates. There was still a track of blood smeared all over the tiles leading straight to the body. It was how you wanted it to be. Mouse wasn’t completely useless. A flashlight was attached to his hip along with a fairly bigger gun than your own — you recognized it as a glock — and a taser. These guys were either a part of previous law enforcement or raided the place. You tore the bag off his shoulders and flung it over your own, it wasn’t heavy at all and you hoped he at least had some extra bullets. Feeling like you wasted enough time you hid behind two boxes stacked on top of each other on the opposite side of Mouse. Whoever entered would react to his body first before they’d catch a whiff of you.
Any time now, you thought and crouched into position. As if speaking into existence, the door swung violently and collided with the wall behind, and your muscles tensed. The grip on your knife tightened and you refrained from breathing too loud. You refrained from breathing at all.
“What the fuck?”
Your plan was in motion as Lizard immediately noticed the blood. Anyone cautious enough would think of it as a biter attack and not something created by a pair of human hands. As thought, the man crossed the nonexistent threshold into the actual storage room and immediately saw his comrade in a forever slumber. He hastily turned around, gun up in the air and eyes wide, a wildfire spread in them as he locked gazes with you. His open mouth formed into a mean scowl and as his finger hugged the trigger, you lunged forward with your arms out. They pushed against his and — to your favor — changed the trajectory of his gun. The bullet was fired up in the sky, marking the start of your fight.
Lizard shook you off himself and you fell with a roll landing behind more crates and boxes. As you got up on your feet, a pair of hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and smashed you back down. The air was knocked out of you and the telltales of a concussion quickly flooded your body. Your brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen and the world was spinning faster than a thousand miles per hour. Lizard threw a knee over each side of your hips and grasped a firmer hold around your neck. The air you were craving didn’t enter your lungs. Panic and the instinct to survive seeped in your veins as you desperately clawed at his hands.
“You fucking bitch. Think you could take us out, huh?” He hauled you off the floor only to slam you back down. “C’mon, do something now. You can’t, can you? You bitches are good for nothing.” He chucked sinisterly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it so you feel everything before I let you turn into those devil spawns.”
It felt disgusting. His rough hands on your skin and spit flying in your face. Tears clouded your eyes and the more he squeezed, the more it felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. It wouldn’t surprise you if veins were prominent on your head and neck or your nails turned a creepy shade of blue. You wondered if you looked as scary as the rotten biters.
Lizard was staring into your soul. He made it his life mission to take you out. To see the life slip from you. If you weren’t on the verge of death with hands restricting your vocal chord, you’d ask him what woman rejected him to be calling you a bitch every five seconds. Too caught up with seeing you die, he was completely unaware of anything else. Eyes crazy and mouth pulled upwards, the happy expression scared you more than anything else and perhaps it was what still kept you going. Your arm was extended, fingers fighting to grasp the knife which was just about out of your reach. Black spots appeared in the air and it was getting harder and harder to stay conscious.
“Dumb bitch, do you think I’m fucking blind?”
Your combat knife landed in his hand — the other still pushing at your neck — and came up against your cheek. The sharp point rested against your delicate skin.
“I should leave a mark. What do you think? You’re quite pretty for a bitch.”
Garbled words were whispered out in the open. Realizing you wanted to say something, he let up on his hold. The inhale of oxygen was sharp and hurt more than it did soothe your lungs.
“What did you say, scum?”
“I said,” you inhaled deeply and raspily exclaimed, “go fuck yourself!”
Your thick spit mixed with blood launched and landed straight in his eye. The knife was temporarily off your face as he wiped the saliva off his own.
“Should have picked a better choice of last words.”
A gun went off and your heart stopped. When did Lizard get a hold of his gun?
Warm, sticky blood splattered all over your face and your skin beneath the thick liquid burned. Lizard went limp and fell forward, and you wasted no time pushing him off you. He landed with a thud. The crazy from his eyes was gone and now he was left to stare lifelessly at the ceiling of a random storage room. More blood pooled on the floor and you stared at him, chest heaving and oxygen slowly getting back in your system. Your hearing was overtaken by a buzzing sound, like the whistle of a kettle or the harsh wind of a storm, and didn’t fully return until a few minutes later.
Noticing a figure, you tore your gaze away from the body and it landed on something more lively. In front of you — not a scratch to his face and a few splatters of red adorning his cheeks and forehead — stood Yunho, one hand holding his gun and the other stuffed in the front pocket of his pants. His eyes trailed all over you, but lingered longer at the area around your neck, for what reason you couldn’t bother grasping as you were too busy catching your breath. Done ogling you, Yunho stuffed the gun in the holster attached to his hip and waited for you to accept his hand.
“Is your compassion back now?”
“Auntie!”
The familiar voice of Nari snapped you out of the pain. You whipped your head around and were met with a flash of black hair and thin arms circling around you, pulling you closer to a shuddering body. The smell of rose petals and dirt wrapped around you in a secure blanket.
“Nari,” you croaked out.
“You scared me.”
No words could relay how sorry you were and instead you embraced her in a hug, your hand coming to caress the back of her head as the other was gently laid on her back. Something wet hit your shoulder and seeped into your bloodied shirt.
“It’s okay.”
You didn’t sound okay and your throat may have hurt, and you’d just gotten the cloud of darkness out of your view, but none of it mattered. Having Nari in your arms unharmed meant you were well too. Yunho silently stared at the intimate moment unraveling before his eyes. The forty people waiting for him back at camp were the equivalent of your one niece and he understood that. Everyone had people they’d do anything for, someone keeping them going in this living hell. Nari was your person. She helped you back on your legs. A bit shaky, but up nonetheless. With the back of your hand, you wiped away as much blood off your face as possible, but it felt like you were smearing it around.
“Here.”
You jumped at the four-letter-word and pushed Nari behind you. Yunho, who was holding your knife, gun and a rag you hadn’t seen before, didn’t take offense to your heightened protectiveness. You nearly died at the hands of another man, he’d be worried if you weren’t cautious of him. He gingerly held out your things and planted them in the palms of your hands.
“I didn’t think you’d wait around.”
“I wasn’t,” you confessed and cleaned your face. The rag smelled of oil and tires. “But she talked me into it so if you’re going to thank someone, thank the kid.”
At the mention of her doing, Nari peeked over your shoulder only to retreat as Yunho’s eyes found hers. Cute, he thought and smiled at her timidity.
“I know she makes the last calls, but thanks, kiddo. I’d probably be in a lot of trouble if it weren’t for you.”
A long silence settled over you. The fingers of Lizard still ghosted over your neck, an imaginary pressure squeezing your tendons and making you fight for air. With the expectation to touch the digits of someone else, your fingers ran alongside the tender area and the suffocating feeling disappeared. Yunho followed your movements, jaw clenched and eyes darkening at the sight of gradually growing blue and purple bruises on your skin.
“We part ways here,” you declared and returned the cloth.
“You think that’s a good idea?”
Yunho didn’t mean for it to come out as a threat and he backtracked when your stance grew defensive, your hand armed with the knife and the other thrown protectively in front of Nari.
“It’s dangerous at night and you’re hurt. Come back to camp with me. My people, we could patch you up and give you food and medicine until you’re good enough to go out on your own.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Look, I know you’re suspicious of me. I get that, but I won’t hurt you. If I wanted you dead–”
“I’d have a bullet lodged between my eyes. I know, but I could also get a knife lodged through my back or neck snapped when least expected.”
Yunho sighed. “If you don’t think you need the help, at least think of your niece. A week or two where she doesn’t have to wake up wondering if you’ll have enough food and water to last you for the day. Don’t you think she deserves to have a break too? Where she can act her age and not be alert every waking hour of the day?”
What kind of question was that? Of course you wanted Nari to have a normal life. Where she could meet friends, go to the mall after school, have boyfriends and girlfriends — whichever she was into — experience her first heartbreak whether it be romantic or platonic. You wanted it all for her. You’d hand pluck each and every star in the sky if she asked you to. What you weren’t going to do, was put her in harm's way.
“You’re asking me to do the impossible… Choosing between living and surviving.”
A small hand came to rest on your lower back, fingers weaving into your shirt and anchoring you. It didn’t make you flinch, the contact was an all too familiar occurrence by now. A wordless reminder to take a breather and actually think things through. To not make decisions based on what was right or wrong, safe or dangerous, life or death. Throwing a glance over your shoulder and seeing the sullen expression on Nari’s face was enough of a reason to accept Yunho’s offer.
This girl would be the death of you and you’d have it no other way.
The ride to Yunho’s camp lasted for well over a day, but you didn’t set off until the sun peeked over the tall buildings of Seoul. You were already taking a risk trusting Yunho, the last thing you needed was a run in with the biters at night. On the bright side, it gave you more than enough time to search the store for necessities. There was little to no space left in Yunho’s Jeep and you were assured, if rationed sparingly, the supplies would last his group for a week or two.
Beautiful scenery of abandoned farms and vibrant, lively forests passed in blurs. You couldn’t remember the last time you were out of the city. Away from skyscrapers, ditched vehicles and hoards of biters. At some point you passed a group of horses that once belonged to humans, but turned wild. Yunho switched the blinker to the left before turning, a built-in reflex from years of driving in normal traffic. He glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. Nari was sprawled out in the backseat, her bag sufficed as a pillow and a purple stuffie — which Yunho had a hard time figuring out the species of — was trapped in her arms. He wondered how a girl seemingly his age and a child lasted so long without a network to lean back on.
“What did you do? You know, before everything went to shit?”
The greenery was replaced with Yunho’s profile. You lingered a little, taking in the slope of his nose, pouty lips and pinkish ears. The ends of his hair curled, tickling his nape and falling over his eyes. As he averted his gaze for a split second, you hastily looked back out the window.
“Nothing. I had recently moved to Seoul with a fresh diploma. The plan was to find a job and save up for traveling and other shit, but job hunting didn’t go as expected so I worked part time babysitting my neighbor's daughter until an opportunity would present itself. The outbreak happened before I could put my education to use.”
“She’s not your niece?”
“Not by blood, no, but she’s the closest thing to a family I have left.”
It took a while until Yunho said something else. The running engine and the crunch of tires on gravel mixed with the stillness of the countryside. The conversation sent you down memory lane. Images of your dad teaching you how to ride a back and then a car popped up like an ad that shifted to one of your many girl’s days with your mom. Not bearing the cumbersome memories, you rolled down the window and aired the car out.
“What about you? What were you doing?”
Yunho jolted and the car swirled left then right until it was back to driving in a straight line. A loud groan came from the back. Nari sat up, eyes squinted and lips pouting as a hand came up to rub against the back of her head. The driver offered her a sheepish smile and a whispered apology. He cleared his throat and pressed on the pedal, the car accelerated and with enough speed he shifted his right foot on the clutch and changed into a higher gear.
“I was working in a repair shop. School wasn’t it for me and I knew a dude whose father worked with cars so he pulled some strings and before I knew it, boom, I was seventeen and employed.”
For a second, you imagined him in blue working pants, a white tank top and smudges of oil on his fingers and cheeks. Maybe far in the future when you bought a car and it eventually broke down or needed an oil change, you’d stumble into his workplace and meet him there. No threat of having your brains blown out or body gnawed out by the infected, but be welcomed by his cheeky smile and the question of what needed to be fixed today.
“So you can teach me how to drive?” Nari burst your bubble. Her head peeked out between the two front seats, one arm latched onto the headrest of Yunho’s seat and her upper body completely crossed over to the front.
“Car rule, kiddo.”
An annoyed sigh left her lips as she dramatically flung back in her spot. With no hurry behind her moves, she buckled the seatbelt and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And no, he can't teach you how to drive.”
Nari snapped her mouth shut and sank further down in her seat. You’d reconsider if she asked for it as a gift for her birthday, but that wish was already decided. While it could be necessary for survival, most of the cars you found were already emptied of gas and what good would it bring her if she couldn’t see over the wheel? She was already pushing it with wanting to handle a gun.
“I mean, I don’t mind going through the basics–”
Much like Nari, Yunho sealed his mouth shut at the scorching heat of your glare. No more words were exchanged apart from Nari asking Yunho about this supposed camp. Questions about how big it was, were there animals, were there dogs, what kind of rooms they had and other questions reminding you she was just a kid.
“We have a dog.”
“A dog! What’s its name?!”
Yunho hummed, “His name is Heart.”
As the two got into a nice conversation about the dog, stars glimmering in their eyes and hearts overflowing with joy, you caught wind of movement in the distance. A singular figure stopped in the middle of the road and at first glance it was almost mistaken for a biter, but as they raised their arms up and took on the stance of a man you realized you weren’t dealing with the infected. Eyes widening and brain not functioning to produce the words, you rapidly started hitting the dashboard.
“What?” Yunho glanced over at you and then back through the windshield, still not seeing anything alarming.
“Stop the fucking car!”
The bullets moved faster than Yunho could slam down on the brakes and tore right through the glass, piercing him in the shoulder. Nari screamed and Yunho tried avoiding the shooter, but the pain made it hard to maneuver the wheel and he drove into the person, killing them right on the spot. You turned around to check on Nari, hoping not one of the three bullets grazed her skin and as the car swiveled to the sides, you faced the front again. View obscured by cracks in the glass and shards flying everywhere, it was hard to make out the road and it wasn’t until you got closer to the other vehicles that you screamed.
“Watch out!”
The collision sent you into a deep sleep that would last until the sun kissed the horizon and greeted the moon on her way out. Stars twinkled in the sky, no city lights or air pollution there to dim the pretty view. You woke up with a stir. A heavy ache spread through the back of your head and spread to the front. Chirping of crickets and raspy groans filled the silence. You put a hand up to your head, feeling for a cut or blood or any injury to have you lightheaded, but there was nothing.
“Fuck,” you managed to get out through a dry mouth.
Unbuckling the belt, you turned around and were met with a switchblade in your face and Nari’s teary eyes staring at you. Furrowing your brows, a noise akin to a confused hum left you and your gaze ventured to a passed-out Yunho.
“Please, please, please don’t be one of them. Please, don’t make me do this. Anyone but you.”
You glanced back at Nari and saw big, fat tears running down her cheeks. The knife in her hand was shaking and her breathing was unstable. Images of the incident flashed in your mind; the shooting, Yunho’s shoulder, the collision, you losing consciousness.
“Nari, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
As you moved further over the console to see her better, she shimmied backwards and yelped.
“Don’t touch me! Please.”
You weren’t scared of the weapon, but of the one behind it. However, in this situation, you knew Nari wasn’t capable of hurting a fly let alone the one person who cared for her. The knowledge didn’t soothe your mind. Clasping your hands around her shaking ones, you took the switchblade out of her hold and ran your thumb soothingly over her skin.
“It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“Yunho,” she started and wiped her nose. “He’s hurt. There was so much blood and, and–”
You couldn’t fathom how you didn’t notice his bare body, the bloodied bandage going around his shoulder and chest, or his faint breathing as if barely there.
“I– I tried fixing it. I used one of our medkits to stop the bleeding, but I didn’t know how.”
Your fingers gently pressed on his bandage and then you hovered them beneath his nose. “No, it’s good, I think you've stopped the bleeding. It’s his breathing I’m concerned about.”
“Why?”
“It’s weak. We have to get him to that camp.”
You unbuckled his seatbelt and moved his chair further back. With gentle slaps to his face, you called his name. God knows what you’d do if he didn’t wake up. There was no way you’d be able to carry him out of the car and into the backseat.
“Come on, wake up!” You hissed and started pulling at his eyelids. It was after the fifth repeat of his name that he fluttered them open.
“Angel?”
“Who’s Angel?” Nari asked.
Disregarding her question, you gave him one more chaste slap to the cheek. “Are you with me?”
Yunho nodded and tried to sit up, only to groan in pain and fall back.
“Yeah, buddy. I don’t know if you remember, but you got shot. It looks pretty bad and we need to get you help.”
“It hurts.”
“I can imagine. Can you hold out until you’re in the back?”
With a determined nod and sigh of exasperation the plan was in motion. Before jumping out into the dark, you scoped out the area and spotted a handful of biters standing quite far from the car.
“We gotta be quick,” you warned and ran over to Yunho’s side.
Throwing open the door and placing his uninjured arm over your shoulders, you helped him — more like pulled him — out of the car. Nari was quick to open the backdoor from inside and move away. Blood drew from how hard you were biting your tongue. He was making quite a fuss and the last thing you needed was to gather the attention of the biters. By the time you were behind the wheel, Nari had jumped to the front from between the seats.
“Will you be able to see?” Nari gestured to the broken windshield.
By some miracle, the whole glass was still intact except for the one hole created by the bullet currently inside Yunho’s shoulder. The other shots probably hit something less vital or completely missed the vehicle.
“Yeah, it’s not that bad. Annoying? Definitely, but manageable. Just put on the seatbelt and give me your map.”
Doing as told, you unfolded the paper and turned to Yunho. “Okay, hey. Hey! Are you with me? Good. Now, point out where we’re going.”
Slow as ever and shaking like a baby foal, he managed to press his finger on the paper and you were quick to mark it down with a pen.
“Good, that’s good. Nari, you keep an eye on him. If he falls asleep, wake him. We don’t want him sleeping for more than a few minutes at a time. If he shows any sign of turning, and I mean any sign, you tell me or we’re all as good as screwed.”
“Got it.”
The most recent time you handled a car, you were still living with your parents and only really used the family car for when going somewhere out of town. Driving was like walking. Once you got it down it was a part of your nervous system. Sure, your skills could get rusty the longer you went without driving, but they sat in the back of your mind like the multiplication table.
You were an hour into the drive and by your calculations, you wouldn’t reach the spot for another two.
“Who do you think Angel is?”
“It’s none of my concern, Nari.”
“No, but I’m curious. Do you think it’s a friend?” Your silence spurred her on. “Or a girlfriend?” She tauntingly wiggled her brows and you had half a mind not to steer the car into a tree.
“Again, it really isn’t my or your business.”
“What Korean person is named Angel though? Isn’t that, like, really foreign?” Nari gasped dramatically. “What if it’s his child? People are more modern with names these days, but he does look a bit too young to be a dad…”
“Nari,” you said, a sternness to your tone.
“Okay, okay… But what if he thought you were an angel?”
It was going to be a long two hours.
Multiple signs with poor writing were stationed with a distance of ten miles between each board. The words were in black — whether it be by paint, a marker or a spraycan, you didn’t know — with an arrow showing what direction to follow.
“Sector one, all survivors are welcome. Doesn’t sound that bad, right?”
You scratched the side of your neck. The consistent position of sitting with your arms stretched out and feet on the pedals was giving you an ache in your back.
“I guess we’ll just have to see. How’s he holding up?”
Nari wiped sweat off Yunho's forehead. “He’s still breathing. A bit sweaty, but he’s not burning up.”
“We’ll be there soon enough. Let’s hope at least one of these forty people is a doctor or something. There’s only so much a medkit can do.”
Noticing another sign, you flashed the high beams and lit up the whole road. The only difference about this poster was the additional wooden plank beneath reading, five kilometers away and an arrow showing left. Doing as the sign read, you turned left and came off the street into a secluded path obscured by trees and bushes. It was big enough for three mid-sized cars, but it was still suffocating. If anything jumped out, you’d only have the option to run them over.
“This is scary,” Nari whispered from the back as if a louder volume would draw an army of people or biters from nowhere.
“Agreed.” You stepped on the gas and advised Nari to hold on as the road was getting bumpier the faster you went. Yunho’s head bobbed to the side and hit the window multiple times until Nari placed Spiderfrog between them.
The forest gradually grew further and further away from the road until a chain-linked fence came into view. What came next was like something taken out of a fairy tale. On the other side stood big cement walls with barbed wire continuing all around the top edge. It was already impossible to climb them due to their height, but the steel spikes made it abundantly clear to not even try. Each corner of the walls had a little house, like a treehouse created out of stone, with a perfect sight miles away. The greenery separated the remaining world from the castle-like building and you wondered where in hell you had arrived. As the magic of a fairy tale evaporated into thin air, it dawned on you where Yunho’s group had taken shelter.
At a prison.
“Look.” Nari’s arm came through the middle and her index finger raised at something so obvious it should’ve been the first thing to catch your eye.
The Jeep slowed down as you lightly pressed on the brakes and shifted down until in the first gear. A sign bigger than all of the previous ones you’d seen combined was nailed to the gates of the chain fence. There were actually two signs, one nailed to each door.
Welcome to Sector One.
Pulling on the handbrake and turning the keys sideways, you breathed out as the vibrations of the car came to a stop. The keys were left in the ignition. You weren’t going to take chances on an ambush happening and you panicking with finding the right key, inserting it and starting the car without stalling it.
Checking your gun and reloading it with the bullets you found in Mouse’s bag, you turned to Nari. “I’ll go first. Don’t get out until I give a signal that it’s clear, alright?”
“Yes.”
You gave them one last glance. Yunho looked peaceful, but lacked the warmness he greeted you with and although you didn’t know him well enough, it was still weird seeing him like that. Treading on the thin line between sleep and death. Then there was Nari. The girl had grown… you wouldn’t say attached, but rather fond of him and his kindness. There weren’t a lot of people who offered you a roof over your heads and food in your tummies, besides, she was still young when the breakdown happened. Not nearly enough time spent in this world to create bonds with more people, especially kids her age. Yunho was — other than you — her closest thing to a friend, someone she deliberately chose to befriend and stand up for. Something was telling you he wasn’t about to leave your lives any time soon and if this place proved to be as good as he was making it to be, you'd be forever in his debt.
You stepped out of the car and quickly surveyed the area. It was still dark out and the moon was high up in the sky. Staying on alert with your gun ready, you stalked closer to the gates. The towers seemed to be empty of watchers and you didn’t know whether to feel happy or wary of it. If the place was safe, shouldn’t someone be on the lookout? The sound breaching your ears seconds before Yunho was upgraded with a new wound to his body went off again and a bullet — you couldn’t see, but feel — skimmed past your toes. If you had a penny for every time you were shot at, you’d have two. Not the biggest number in town, but it sure was crazy considering it all happened in the span of two days.
Clasping your gun between both of your hands, you aimed it high and looked around. The bullet came from a place where the shooter had a perfect view of everything. Your eyes widened as a body that wasn’t there seconds ago stood in the tower closest to the gate. No wonder you didn’t see them, they blended perfectly in with the dark swirls of the sky. You’d argue their black clothes — a hoodie pulled over their head and swallowing them completely — were darker than the background. However, it wasn’t their sudden appearance that had you frozen in place, it was the rifle resting in their embrace.
“Drop the gun and step back,” they shouted and when you didn’t comply, they continued. “Drop the gun or have your brains blown out. It’s your decision, sweetheart.”
Cursing the mysterious person didn’t feel like it would give you free entry into Sector One. Then again, if it meant dealing with armed people shooting without a thought behind their heads then you didn’t want in. For the sake of Nari though, you did as the guy ordered and raised your hands in a mocking gesture.
“Kick it away from you!”
“Are you serious?” You mumbled beneath your breath. The guy was really testing your patience. Playing the part of an obedient dog, you sent your handgun hurling toward the gates.
“Nice Jeep you have there. Where’d you get it?”
“A friend of mine.”
In any other circumstance Yunho wouldn’t be described as your friend. Heck, you couldn’t even call him an acquaintance. The guy was still a stranger in your eyes, but you wouldn’t test your luck with the rifle-guy.
He chuckled — dare you say charmingly — and lowered the rifle so it was resting on the rails of the tower.
“That’s funny because my friend has the exact same car with the exact same logo on the front and last time I checked, my friend went out alone for some dog food and not with some girl. So, let’s try this again… Nice Jeep you have there. Where’d you get it?”
“Yunho. His name is Yunho. A funny guy, quite tall too.”
Rifle-guy moved with such speed that the hood slid off his head. The weapon was raised again and you were certain he was a millimeter away from shooting you dead.
“What did you do to him? You better answer fast or I’ll send so many bullets through you, we’ll alert every biter in a ten mile radius.”
“He’s in the back. Breathing, but barely. He offered me a place to stay and we got attacked on our way here… I stopped the bleeding, but there’s no guarantee of his survival.”
Time seemed to stop as the guy didn’t move. You didn’t dare breathe louder and tensed your whole body from moving an inch. Anyone with a weapon aimed at you and their finger on the trigger wasn’t to be trusted. A bullet could be fired with the slightest of movement and you weren’t about to suffer the same fate as Yunho for breathing a little harder or accidentally losing your footing.
Feeling impatient you cleared your throat and spoke up. “I can show you… Yunho. I can show you he’s in the backseat.”
“How do I know you won’t get something to shoot me with?”
“Because people who have something to lose won’t act so recklessly.”
“And, do pray tell, what is it that you value so highly?”
Letting out a shaky sigh, you slowly turned your head sideways and looked through the cracked windshield. The guy couldn’t see her, but you and Nari made immediate eye contact. You flickered your right hand forward slowly and she caught onto what you were trying to convey. The backdoor opened and with a copy of your stance, Nari exited the car, arms high and vacant of the switchblade you gifted her. She came up to stand beside you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. The guard was taken back as a literal child appeared. Of all the people he encountered over the wall, not once had he aimed the muzzle at a kid. It was usually Yunho or some of the others who brought them in. He dealt with strangers who were lost or searched for cover. Rifle-guy closed his gaping mouth and lowered his weapon again.
“Stay there. I don’t want either of you to move,” he explained and proceeded to talk into a device.
A lamp on the other side of the fence lit up and two figures appeared from a door leading into the building. They were heavily armed, so much you could see, and were of a great build. One was challenging the other with his height — he even gave Yunho a run for it — but the other made up with his broad shoulders. Both carried a rifle each and had thick vests going over their chests, leaving you wondering what kind of camp this was. Were all newcomers welcomed with a rifle straight out of the military embassy and a one-month training program to become ripped?
The pair stopped and just stared at you through the fence. The headlights of Yunho’s Jeep reached to their knees, but made their faces more visible. The first thing catching your attention was the freshly bleached hair on the tall one. It looked ridiculous, but his serious expression scared you into being quiet. Not to mention his sharp yet round eyes which told you he wasn’t amused by your presence. He stuck out like a sore thumb. His companion was more subtle, with parted black hair and a short fringe falling in front of his eyes, but in a fashionable way and not the my-hair-is-a-mess way. Speaking of his eyes, they were sharper than Mr. Snow White over there, but held the heat of a bored tiger. He had very prominent cheekbones and naturally styled brows every model dreamed of having. The sleeveless shirt he was wearing gave a beautiful view of his thick arms, you’d argue his one bicep was the size of your head.
The men were as handsome as they were dangerous and you first realized how unfortunate of a situation you were in. Yunho was a nice guy, but his actions didn’t seem to reflect those of his friends. The sound of the gates opening by a mechanic whirring snapped you out of your worrisome thoughts.
“Don’t move,” said the white-haired one. His voice was deeper than the ocean and struck you to the core.
You wanted to let him know you weren’t planning on it, the threat of rifle-guy hanging over your head. As Snow White advanced to the car and picked up your abandoned gun on his way, his friend held you at gunpoint. You cast a quick glance to the watchtower and saw rifle-guy doing the same thing, his weapon supposedly aimed at Nari. Their positions didn’t change, not even when the car door opened and Yunho was carefully thrown over his friend’s shoulder. The pair shared a look and you were ushered back in the car before you could ask about Yunho’s well-being. Nari followed shortly and it confused you as to why she sat in the passenger seat. When the black haired guy sat right behind you, gun positioned toward Nari, you understood.
“Drive up to the door. Don’t think of doing anything funny and I won’t hurt the kid.”
Through the rear-view mirror you held his heated gaze and he raised a perfectly arched brow as if daring you to disobey. Giving up, you started the car and did as ordered. If you had known you’d be rewarded with your heroism by having a gun presented to Nari’s head, you'd have taken the Jeep and left Yunho on the side of the road. Instead, you listened to a freshly turned ten-year-old and got thrown into a jail cell, all for trying to help a guy not die. It could have been worse, you tried convincing yourself. The guards — is what you decided to call them — could have separated you and Nari.
You didn’t expect much of a prison. The most you knew was from textbooks and documentaries online, and the material didn’t give you the best image of the place. You expected dirt, filth and wickedness everywhere. The prisons you heard of gave nothing to the prisoners, they treated them like animals with shitty food and equally shitty sleeping arrangements. To see your cell furnished with a bunk bed, a table in the corner and blankets, you were bewildered. San — the shorter guy with broad shoulders and a tiny waist — locked you in with the promise of returning shortly. Staying true to his words he came back, but with the company of Mr. Snow White. The only real bad side to this arrangement was them taking away all your weapons. Nari’s switchblade, and your combat knife and handgun were all in the possession of San.
“Up to the wall,” he ordered and didn’t lock up the door until your backs were one with the wall.
Mr. Snow White entered first with two trays in hand. Your eyes quickly scanned what he was holding. It was food and water. You weren’t going to lie, the food looked appetizing and you hadn’t eaten a warm meal in a good while, but you knew better than to accept food from strangers. Mr. Snow White placed the trays on the table and straightened back up.
He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m Mingi.”
Your eyes didn’t leave his and the neutral expression on your face didn’t falter. He didn’t move and you realized he was waiting to hear your names. You licked your dry lips and glared harder at him. You weren’t going to tell him any–
“Nari. I’m Nari,” she spoke up from beside you.
You whipped your head toward her and she was purposefully avoiding your gaze. You couldn’t believe your ears. There wasn’t a critical thought behind that head of hers. Glancing back at Mingi, he raised a brow and tilted his head sideways. Being left with no other choice, you gave up your name. Just because you were exchanging pleasantries didn’t mean you were going to be all friendly with them though. They literally took you hostage after you helped one of theirs.
“Okay… Uh, eat.”
As San fiddled with the jail doors, you coughed up the courage to ask about Yunho.
The jingling of his keys stopped and San looked up at you. The fierce aura from when he held you at gunpoint and growled threats in your ears was replaced by an unexpected softness. His eyes didn’t send blades your way and the corners of his mouth weren't pulled in a scowl. Everything about him was completely different and for a flicker of a second you could see the same compassion lit in his soul as well as Yunho’s.
“He’s okay. He’s better. You did a good job stopping the bleeding. He’s still… Unconscious, but his breathing is more stable now.” San sighed and stuffed the key back in his pocket. “I’d like to ask what happened, but it’s not… Our Captain wants to talk to you first thing in the morning.”
You weren’t surprised at the alias for their leader, it seemed like a lot of people had a knack for weird names.
“I want to talk to Yunho. He’s the only face I can somewhat trust.”
“And you will, but first you’ve got to talk to the captain and then as soon as Yunho wakes up we’ll bring you to him, so eat and rest.”
Neither of you moved toward the food. It smelled delicious though and your stomach was turning in on itself from hunger. Seasoned chicken and potatoes. How they’d acquire that you had no idea. It didn’t matter though. Everything came with a price, before it was actual money, but now you could be forced to pay in numerous ways. Some which you didn’t want to imagine.
“And the food? What do you want for it?”
“Want for it?” His dark brows scrunched together and a little wrinkle appeared on the surface between them.
“What do you want in exchange for the food?”
As if a light switch went off in his head, he waved his hands around. “Nothing? Nothing! It’s free, I mean, it’s leftovers from dinner… We’re not like that. The thing out front was just a precaution. I promise.”
His gaze shifted from you to Nari and his expression softened into that of pity. You both kept quiet as his somber eyes trailed over her lean body and you were a toothpick away from pushing her behind you.
“You’re too thin for a kid… Please, eat… And when you’re done, I’ll– I’ll, uh, bring you something sweet, okay?”
“I like chocolate,” Nari whispered.
“Well, I hope you like pudding because we have lots of it.” As San closed the last big door separating you from the rest of the camp with the reminder to eat, you wasted no time chastising Nari for her lack of critical thinking.
“You can’t go around and trust people like that. This,” you gestured toward the area outside the cell, “isn’t permanent. We don’t know what they want or what they do to newcomers like us. Not to mention they think we hurt Yunho.”
“But we can’t always expect the worst to happen. They could help, Yunho said they would help.”
“Yunho isn’t here! It’s just you and me locked up. Out there we could at least roam free, but now, we don’t even know if we’ll ever see daylight again.”
Fatigue tugged at your eyelids and all the muscles in your body burned from overexhaustion. You plopped down on the bottom bunk, arms propped on your knees and head in your hands, as you tried assessing the situation. However you looked at it, you were at a disadvantage. Your only hope would be Yunho waking up and even then you weren’t entirely free from harm. The tall man could still lie and put the blame for his wound on you.
The bubble of darkness burst as keys clashed together and the cell door was harshly opened. You didn’t remember falling asleep or laying down in bed, or the feel of your head hitting the plush pillow. It just happened. Rolling off the bed, you took on a defensive stance with your hands coming up to your face. You were ready to pounce at anyone daring to come inside.
“I thought I told you guys to eat?”
Blinking your weary eyes awake, you took in the disappointed look of San. This guy apparently had a thing for promises because he was standing there with a chocolate flavored pudding in hand. The two trays on the side were once filled with warm food and had turned cold from being out in the open for long. Your stomach growled in retaliation and you tried pushing back the thought of regret.
Regret for not eating. Regret for yelling at Nari. Regret for helping Yunho.
“And I told you I wanted to speak with Yunho.”
Additional shuffling footsteps echoed in the empty block and the familiar head of black locks peeking from around the side of your cell grabbed your attention.
“Calm down now.”
“Yunho!” Nari wasted no time climbing down the ladder. Her imaginary tail wagged violently as if an excited dog reuniting with her friend from the park. Thinking about it, you weren’t that far off with the visual imagination. They got into a small conversation about his shoulder that quickly shifted to questions about Heart. You breathed out and slumped down on the chair behind you. Yunho was alright. He was breathing and talking and walking just fine. The chances of your and Nari’s survival skyrocketed by fifty percent. He gently patted the top of her head and a dimple you hadn’t paid attention to earlier formed on his cheek. The ripped pieces of fabric from last night were replaced by a white loose-fitting t-shirt and — instead of wearing his black jeans — a pair of gray sweatpants covered his long legs.
“You’re okay.”
Yunho hummed. “Of course. It takes more than a measly bullet to get rid of me.”
“You were closer to death than life,” was what you wanted to say, but held back. It wasn’t your place to remind him of his state. Besides, he wasn't anyone of importance. Yunho was your ticket to safety until you decided to move along somewhere else.
“Not to interrupt your lovely reunion, but Captain wants to see you soooo,” San interrupted. “Let’s go.”
He proceeded to sheepishly smile as you raised a brow at the loaded rifle in his hands. “I’m sorry, but it’s just a precaution.”
A precaution for what? They already took all of your things. How big of a threat could you pose with your bare hands and a kid against a mountain-shaped guy and his skyscraper of a friend? There was nothing you could do to put a scratch on either of them and you were certain you’d get an arm, if not both, broken in return.
“Can we see Heart after this?”
San’s brows flew up at the question and he turned toward Yunho who was still sporting a bright smile. “They know about Heart?”
The taller of the two men only shrugged, but the gleeful expression gave him away. You didn’t have enough energy to reprimand Nari for her nonchalant behavior. The girl was doing whatever she wanted and you didn’t deem the situation dangerous enough to land either of you in trouble, unless the dog was rabid and attacked at first sight.
“Let’s see what their leader wants first, okay?” You put a hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the cage.
Nothing prepared you for the walk from one empty cell block to another full of people gauging you like circus freaks. It wasn’t that weird considering you and Nari looked to be taking daily baths in the sewers and voluntarily gave each other body altercating wounds, but it annoyed you nonetheless. Fear pooled in their eyes, young as old, and you wondered how out of touch with reality they really were. July turned into August three times since the outbreak started. What kind of rules was Sector One built upon if their people couldn’t hold their own?
It made your blood boil. You wanted to give them a reason to be scared. Bare your teeth at them and ask what they had been doing while you were fighting for your life day by day.
“This is where I stop. Yunho will be with you, so just follow him,” San said from behind you. “Captain’s already waiting inside, Yun.”
“Roger that soldier… Come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”
The room they labeled the ‘Captain’s headquarters’ was probably where the previous warden spent most of their time while working. It looked nice. Classy. You could argue it was a different world than the rest of the jail. There was actual furniture inside, two leather sofas facing each other with an expensive looking table in the middle. To your left was a little window looking out on the common room; the area where people ogled you like nothing. Behind the leather set up was a mahogany desk where a man much shorter than Yunho, Mingi and San sat. Two pairs of chairs were placed across from him, letting you know he was expecting your and Nari’s presence.
The most outstanding detail of his was the white bandage wrapped around his forehead and slightly over his right eye. Captain — as they called him — stood up, a smile taking over his features and his eye creasing from cheesing too much. He had quite a peculiar look to himself; short black hair in the front that grew more at the back and covered his nape like a semi-mullet with the sides freshly shaved. His nose was charming and pointed, quite small too and the lone eye reminded you of a cat’s. Mischievous and cunning.
Unlike the rest of the people you’d met, this guy wasn’t wearing plain clothing. A white button-up shirt clung to his thin frame and a pair of black slacks actuated his well-formed legs. It wasn’t something people wore in the apocalyptic setting as they opted for clothes allowing them more movement. To top it off, a green military jacket reaching above his ankles hid the fancy outfit underneath.
“Take a seat, please.”
While you and Nari did as told, Yunho cleared his throat from behind and the leader’s eyes (or well, eye) lit up with a particular glow.
“It’s nice to see you back on your feet, Yunho, but try not to die when you go out on a mission next time, hm?”
Said man mockingly saluted and leaned against the wall beside the door.
“Want anything to drink? Water, tea, juice?”
Your stone cold expression conveyed your answer and the silence from Nari wasn’t hard to decipher either.
“The offer still stands if you change your mind… Anyways, welcome to Sector One. I’m Hongjoong or as the people call me, Captain.”
You didn’t put up a fight to keep your names a secret. Mingi, San and Yunho already knew of them and it wouldn’t take long until one of the three whispered it in their leader’s ears.
“I already know of you. I talked to San, Mingi and Wooyoung about it and the guys told me fairly the same things, but I’m still curious about what you have to say.”
“Does it make a difference?” You asked and parted your legs, leaning comfortably against the backrest and your arms coming up to cover your chest. “You’re obviously going to believe your little soldiers before even taking into account what I have to say.”
Hongjoong smiled even wider, not taking his lone eye off you and it was slowly starting to bug you out. Especially when he didn’t blink and just continued holding your gaze.
“That’s valid, but I’d rather hear your side before I decide on anything. Think of Yunho as an alibi, plus you look quite young to be fending for your life. For both of your lives, so I’m feeling a bit sentimental.”
The insult of him shoving his dick up his own ass didn’t get to be flung out in the open as Nari took the lead of the conversation. She spilled everything from your first encounter with Yunho to your near-death experience as a person appeared out of thin air and unloaded rapid shots.
“And Yunho said you had a dog named Heart and promised me I’d get to meet him!”
Hongjoong, who was resting his arms on the desk with his fingers intertwined and lips touching the skin, sighed and gently sank in his chair. His arms fell on each armrest and his head lolled to the side as if in deep thought.
“We do have a dog named Heart and that does sound like something Yunho would say… Tell me more.”
Always eager to humiliate you, Nari jumped straight into action. “He called auntie Angel… When he went in and out of consciousness.”
Your body heated at the memory and Yunho’s eyes widened. He had no recollection of that happening. A pink hue which rapidly changed to a darker red settled over his ears and he hastily avoided the curious eye of Hongjoong, much like you. The short man couldn’t hold himself from laughing and you were a molecule away from threatening him.
“Who is Angel?” Nari turned in her seat and stared at Yunho with a curious gaze. She was dead set on figuring out this mysterious person.
Hongjoong recovered, but the yellow glow of happiness didn’t dim from his face.
“Oh, little one. There’s no one named Angel at camp.” He glanced over at you who glared daggers at the pristine white wall. “I’m almost a hundred percent convinced Yunho thought your auntie was an angel coming to save him and I can’t say I blame him for mixing them up.”
“Will you shut up?” You snarled.
“No. I don’t think I will.” He smirked while standing up and averting his attention to Yunho, who wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole. “Does that sound familiar to you?”
“Uh… Ye– Yeah.” Yunho scratched the lobe of his ear, growing uncomfortable as they burned more.
“Good… Now, I’ll consider keeping quiet if you tell me what it is you want. Why did you come here?”
“Yunho offered us a place to rest until we headed back out on the road.”
“So you wanna stay, is that it?”
Hongjoong didn’t like when people circled around things, you mentally noted. He wanted it served straight to the point and you understood; he was a leader with people to look out for, but it didn’t make it less embarrassing asking for help. For the sake of Nari, you swallowed your pride, albeit with difficulty, and nodded.
“Then enlighten me. How many infected have you killed?”
The dumbest thing to come out of this apocalypse — after the biters — would be these questions. You didn’t survive this long by hiding and outrunning the dead, it was a common fact and as far as you knew, Hongjoong couldn’t have talked his way out of an encounter with biters. As for other humans, you didn’t doubt his sharp tongue and talent for outsmarting them in getting what he wanted. It was no wonder Sector One was functioning, the whole organization was under his care.
“Could you answer how many breaths you’ve taken since birth? Exactly. It’s too many to count, but it’s well over a hundred.”
A tense silence spread through the room. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face. He would be an infuriating opponent in a game of poker.
“How many people have you killed?”
“Five…” You exhaled a big gust of air and kept your eyes trained on your shoes.
The memories of each person at the end of your knife or gun weren’t pleasant. They were locked in a chest in the back of your head with no intention to be let out. It took you far too long to get used to their faces appearing in your sleep. Waking up from a rapidly beating heart and heaving chest became a part of your routine until it suddenly stopped. It didn’t mean you weren’t thinking of them whenever you were stuck in a silence too loud for your own inner voice.
“Why?”
Curse Hongjoong’s curious mind and soft spoken tone. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but you also didn’t want to risk being thrown out of the prison — every convicted person was probably turning in their graves — as it was currently the safest place for Nari.
“The first one… It was a mercy kill and the only life I took without the intent of surviving,” you began and avoided Nari’s eyes. No one knew of this. Only you, the victim and whoever was watching above.
“It was still early on in the apocalypse and Nari hadn’t even turned double digits so I rarely ever brought her with me. This was one of the times she stayed in our old base while I went out looking for food. Back then I was scared of searching through stores and my biter kill count hadn’t even gone over five, so I stuck to clearing houses and small corner shops…
“The house was relatively empty and it didn’t take me longer than three minutes to continue upstairs. It was a boy, maybe around Nari’s age now. I found him hiding in his parents’ bedroom, blanket up to his chin and face entirely wet and red from crying. He was bit and yeah… There wasn’t much I could do.”
Casting upwards, you locked gazes with Hongjoong. The stone-hard expression was still there, but a twinkle of sympathy flickered in his brown eyes.
“The most recent one was when Yunho found us,” you continued. “A group of men wanted to raid the same store as us and well… they weren’t the kindest of guys. It was either kill or be killed. Yunho can vouch for that.”
It was quiet after that. You could faintly hear the people going on about their day in the cell blocks and the small details of life around you. Yunho’s shifting in place. Nari picking on the skin around her thumb. The clock ticking above the doorway.
“You mentioned five people, but we’ve only heard about two.”
You should’ve known better than to think Hongjoong wouldn’t ask about the remaining three. It wasn’t something you were proud of, but it needed to happen or everything you’ve based your new life around would go to waste.
Sensing Nari move in her seat, you decided to keep the explanation brief. “Some men… attacked Nari.”
“That’s all?” Hongjoong asked, curious as to why they weren’t getting a lengthy story.
“That’s all you need to know. They put her in danger and I put them six feet under… I protected my own. Wouldn’t you do the same?”
“I have. We all have.”
The reply was instant. So he did kill someone. Not that he’d ever know, but you were intrigued. How? When? Why? In this time and day it’d be more concerning if he hadn’t killed someone.
“I’m willing to let you stay on one condition.”
He brought you out of your bubble. You squinted and folded your arms. “Which is?”
Hongjoong rounded the desk and leaned back on it. Legs crossed and hands coming back to rest on the edge of the surface. “You may stay in Sector One… but because of Yunho’s injury, one of you will have to look for resources in his place.”
To be frank, the offer wasn’t bad. You were already in charge of scavenging and finding safety over your heads. It was a no-brainer Nari would stay inside the four walls of Sector One and you’d take Yunho’s responsibility while he recovered. It would only be for a few days, you reasoned with yourself, and then you’d take Nari by the hand and leave to a new destination.
“Hongjoong! I’m perfectly fine going on my own–” Yunho was interrupted and stopped advancing forward, his hands hovering in the air as your voice overpowered his.
“I’ll do it, but I have a requirement of my own.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ll do the scavenging, clearing areas and helping around the prison if Nari stays out of it all.”
“Auntie!”
“Butt out.” You threw her a look and she sank back in her seat, an angry pout taking over her lips. “Do we have a deal?”
Hongjoong smiled and held out his hand that you shook with strength.
“Deal… Yunho, fill her in on how things work around here, would ya?”
“...Yes, Captain.”
The agreement to stay a week or two in exchange for risking your life prolonged to a month. But with a little persuasion from Wooyoung — the guy who nearly shot your toes off — and Yunho, you came to the realization that staying in Sector One until further notice was a better option for Nari than living on the streets.
Week three of temporarily living in the prison was inaugurated by another run for supplies and you were meeting Hogjoong’s demands by going alone. San offered to come with — something he had been every single time — but you told him you could hold your own and that the prison needed him more than you would. He didn’t fight your decision and also refrain from hiding the concern on his face. San was like that, you realized. If he wasn’t planted on the post or following Hongjoong’s orders, then he’d be doing rounds asking everyone if there was anything they needed.
Another sweet guy who wasn’t all content with you venturing outside the prison walls on your own was Yunho. It was his fault you were doing so in the first place, of course he wouldn’t be happy with you doing runs in his stead. He didn’t want to entertain the possibility of you getting hurt or — even worse — bit. Yunho would never forgive himself. You didn’t have time to reassure either of them you’d be fine. They were both old enough to know such promises wouldn’t hold longer than a goldfish out of its tank. You simply collected requests of the people inside and tried to cross out as many things on the list as possible. To keep everything under control, you made up the rule that everyone could wish for one thing each and it had to be bearable otherwise it would be impossible to shorten the list.
Today was a successful day. A toothpick wouldn't fit in your bag from how packed it was. Batteries, hard soap, pads, cigarettes, crayons, dog treats, books, pacifiers, chocolate bars, you had it all and headed home. A blue collar with a silver heart attached to it was stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans. It was dirty, the color barely distinguishable from the dust and stains, and the heart locket started taking on a green hue. It was perfect for Heart and would be a shame to leave it behind. You were usually strict with your rules and rarely brought back things people didn’t ask for or were deemed unnecessary. The only exception was if it were something for Nari (you had to get better with that, but honestly speaking, you couldn’t care less). Back at the prison — one hour earlier than scheduled — you circled cell block two and handed out the goods to the respective person. Soon enough you were left with an empty bag and an unsolicited bag of chips in your hands, the extra salty type that made your mouth shrink and turn back in on itself. There was only one person you knew who was dying to eat these.
“Oh, you’re back already?” Mingi greeted you with a smile as you entered block one.
The giant got up from his seat in one of the round tables and you met him in the middle. “Yeah. I underestimate how fast I actually am on my own.”
“Better that than to have us running around like headless hens thinking something’s happened… Whatchu got there?”
“Snacks… For Nari. She really loves chips.”
“Cool. Ay, don’t let Yunho see you with that, it’s his favorite flavor,” Mingi chuckled and his boxy smile appeared, and as did his dimples.
“What a coincidence,” you murmured and cleared your throat. “Where is he anyways? Shouldn’t he be on… like, some duty?”
“Nah or well… yeah, but nah?”
You tilted your head quizzically and your eyebrows scrunched together like two furry caterpillars. Mingi waved you away as if you were the one spewing nonsense. Was he or was he not on duty?
“You’ll get what I mean when you see him. He’s in his cell doing nothing… something. No-so-thing?”
Twenty-one days. You had known Mingi for twenty-one days and each time you conversed, he didn’t fail to leave you more perplexed than the last time. His white hair should have been enough of a warning he was somewhat weird or at the very least confusing, but the equal amount of kind.
As you were told, Yunho was in his cell. You moved the white sheet that was covering his cell and admired his peaceful form laying in bed. Arms bent at the elbows and fingers intertwined beneath the back of his head while his ankles crossed over each other. The bed wasn’t quite fit for his tall figure making his feet stick out over the edge. You understood what Mingi meant now. Yunho was put on duty… a duty to rest until healed. Although that didn’t stop him from keeping the positive spirits up in the place. The first few days spent around him and his happy-go-lucky demeanor were enough for you to believe he was putting up a facade. You refused to believe the constant happiness he spread around was genuine. Witnessing even a quarter of the apocalypse was enough to tarnish any positive emotion inside a person and Yunho surely couldn’t be immune to that. But the more you lingered around him, the more you realized he was being himself. His curled up lips and squinted eyes, and a dimple popping out even when sleeping proved to be his true self.
“Are you just going to stare at me or?”
The fabric slipped from your fingers and shielded you from him and his chuckle. Of course he was awake. Everyone who was a part of Hongjoong’s patrol and resource squads was basically walking on eggshells. Slipping in his room, you were greeted with an overly joyous Yunho. A shit eating grin on his face and cheeks puffy and round from the smiling. His brown eyes carried a twinkle of mischief that had you frowning. Not bothering to entertain his poor taste in harmless jokes, you tossed the snacks over to him and plopped on the vacant seat opposite of his bed. A pair of comics were stacked in non-chronical order on the desk — some of which you recognized as Spiderman comics — along with scattered polaroids of him and people from camp, a bag of dog treats and his gun.
“What’s this?” He asked and immediately sat up. The bag was intensely inspected as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. The gasp that left his mouth upon realization told you he knew exactly what it was you tossed him.
You weren’t prepared for his gaze to find yours. A look of gratitude painted his face and a wave of warmth welled over your body and sent your heart into palpitations. The attention was suddenly too much to bear and you averted your focus on the boring cement walls that were much easier to look at. You grabbed the comic at the top of the stack and aimlessly flipped through it, the colorful pages doing little to calm your heated thoughts.
“They are Nari’s favorite,” you began and stopped on a random page. “I found two and she told me to give you the other one.”
“They are my favorite too,” he whispered as if admitting a sin in a confessional.
There was no reason for you to lie, but the emotion in his eyes sent you into panic and it was like he could see right through you. It was embarrassing to admit, but you didn’t want him to think… You didn’t want him to know what you thought about him. Heck, you were still trying to accept the fact Yunho was slowly infiltrating your mind let alone giving him his favorite things like a poor attempt at a courting offer which it wasn’t!
For such a long time, you were only thinking about yourself and Nari. You never thought to fit a third person– scratch that. You never thought there’d be a third person to fit in your already busy mind. Getting attached to people was dangerous, it made you vulnerable and an easy target. The quickest route to your heart would be through Nari and you didn’t need to involve romance in that mess. Love was the greatest weakness of humans after all. Despite that, you couldn’t help but disguise your worry through acts and harsh words. Giving him painkillers in the dead of night, purposely moving peas from his plate to yours as you heard him complain about them once (without anyone seeing you, of course), or keeping an eye out for those comic books he’s into. Instead of asking how his recovery was going, you’d say, “You can’t be in that much pain if you’re laughing.”
Yunho opened the bag and wasted no time stuffing his cheeks with potato chips. The need to chastise him for eating too fast rolled on your tongue. Feeling like it’d be crossing the line of friendship and acquaintances, you hastily stood up and feigned stretching your back. Yunho peered up at you with his round eyes, pouty lips and puffed-up cheeks, and you nearly stumbled over your own feet. It was… so different having to look up at him and having him stare at you from below. He looked so pliant and what would be your drunken mistake after too many drinks on a night out with your friends.
“I’m out,” you announced before you could do something you’d regret and ran to the safety of your cell.
One thing you’d rather do than admit that Yunho made the apocalypse bearable was to take a screwdriver through your eye. Since meeting him, the world splattered in black and white for three-and-something-years was slowly getting back its colors. Perhaps it was his abnormal humor keeping you up way past the curfew set by Hongjoong or his weird faces having you burst out in laughter at the most inappropriate moments. It could also be his natural leadership, taking control over situations and coming up with plans when you were too tired to function. It made you feel taken care of, like you could slow down and breathe once in a while without worrying about what the next move should be.
It was nice. It was good. It also meant your plan of shielding your heart from intruders failed miserably as Yunho slowly, but progressively, wiggled his way through the five hundred locks surrounding your beating organ. The thought hit you on a random night as the leaves changed into an array of more depressing colors and daylight didn’t last longer than until the afternoon for the second time since passing the gates of Sector One. You were used to a vicious cycle of waking up, operating on survival mode and going back to bed with no anticipation for tomorrow. Yunho, with his small talk and respectfully prying questions, changed that and you found him in your thoughts before sleep, during dinner, when washing up and whenever your mind wasn’t occupied with tactics of survival. You wouldn’t say you yearned for his presence, but you looked forward to seeing him, to hear him talk about the newest car parts he found on his latest run or to play another round of twenty questions (which you answered as nonchalantly as possible and asked the most boring questions known to mankind).
For a little less than two years, you worked on gradually welcoming more people into your life. You didn’t feel the need to hide yourself behind brick walls for protection anymore. You’d always be wary of newcomers — that was understandable — but you were done thinking Hongjoong and his crew had ulterior motives resulting in your demise. You could actually fall asleep around them without a knife tucked beneath your pillow and stopped offering to keep watch during supply runs — the fear of being killed in your sleep was built on the lack of trust — as the moon and sun exchanged places. There was still a long way to go until you could call Sector One a home, but at least it was safe and it was mainly thanks to Yunho.
As you loaded the last bags in the backseat of Yunho’s Jeep, he refilled washer fluid in the designated reservoir while shielded by the bonnet.
“Auntie, wait! Don’t leave yet!”
Nari came running down the path, doing nothing to keep her volume down with Heart hot on her heels and his joyful barks mixing in the autumn breeze. Closing the doors, you leaned against them and patiently did as requested. She caught up to you and rested her hands on her knees, air heaved in and out of her chest as she tried catching her breath. She raised a hand, asking for a moment to not sound like she climbed multiple stairs.
“Okay,” she started and straightened. “I have something for you guys. Yunho! Come over here and close your eyes! You too, auntie.”
“Coming,” Yunho muttered and screwed the cap back on and closed the front surface of the Jeep. He did the thing you couldn’t call jogging or walking which did nothing to pick up his pace and came to stand beside you while simultaneously wiping grime off his fingers. He shot you a glance as if to ask what was happening, but you shrugged, knowing as much as he did.
“Close them! And palms up.” She placed something tiny and light in your hands. “And open!”
A smile graced your face. In the palm of your hand was a bracelet. It wasn’t flashy or made out of silver or gold, on the contrary, it was created using two things; a piece of colored garn and the tab of a soda can. Your string was a vibrant red while Yunho got a pastel green. The ends of the garn were tied to each side of the tab thus creating a loop that would go around your wrist. It was simple and probably didn’t take longer than five minutes to create, but it was a gift nonetheless.
“It’s beautiful, flower.” You immediately put it on and showed her.
Nari clapped her hands enthusiastically and squealed. “It looks so good and now you have a piece of me with you wherever you go!”
“That was sweet of you, Nari,” Yunho said, admiring the poor trinket on his wrist. “I’ve always wanted a good luck charm and now I got it so, thanks a lot, kiddo.”
The grin she sported grew bigger at the praise and Yunho couldn’t refrain from ruffling her hair. His attention was suddenly on you.
“You ready?”
“As ready as one can be.”
“Please be careful.” Nari engulfed you in a hug, and you immediately reciprocated.
“When am I not?”
“Don’t worry about her, Nari. She’ll be under my protection.” Yunho’s chest puffed up and he placed a hand over his heart. His lips did that upside down triangle shape making his cheeks look extra squishy while his eyes tingled in the sunlight.
“She better! It’s my family we’re talking about.”
“Okay, Rambo, calm down before you blow a vessel… And who is taking care of who? Last time I checked, I was the one protecting the both of us,” you trailed off and rolled your eyes.
“Are you two leaving soon or are you going to chit-chat the day away?!” The high-pitched voice of the one and only, Jung Wooyoung, came from the tower closest to the gate.
“That would be our cue to get rolling. We’ll see you in a few days, kiddo.” Yunho ruffled her hair again, just because, and hoped in the driver’s seat.
Searching for food and other necessities had become a part of your life long before you joined Sector One, the only difference was leaving Nari behind while you stepped out into the danger zone, not knowing if you’d get to see each other again. You wanted to say it was easier leaving with time, that every departure wasn’t as heavyhearted as the previous, but you’d be lying to yourself.
“Listen to Seonghwa and Yeosang while I’m away. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and if anything happens to the place, and I mean anything, you take your things and you run. I’ll find you wherever you go, okay?”
Nari didn’t reply. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you and hid her face in the crook of your neck. Thinking back to it, three years ago she could barely reach up to your neck, let alone tuck her head into it.
“I’ll miss you.”
You sighed and pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll miss you more. I’m going to try and see if I can bring you more of those pictures that fit your camera.”
Yunho gifted her a Polaroid camera for her eleventh birthday. It was a present that started her obsession with photography, the downside being the films were hard to find and were almost rarer than medical kits and unexpired condoms. This year he promised her driving lessons, however, they would have to wait until he was back from the mission.
“Thank you.”
Two quick beeps was your signal to go.
“Seonghwa and Yeosang will help you with anything you need. We’ll be back in a few days, behave till then.”
“I always do,” she retorted, brows coming together and nose scrunching cutely.
You smiled slyly. “I know… Oh, and Nari?” She hummed and looked up at you through her lashes. “Tell that Eunwoo kid I have eyes everywhere even when I’m out of camp.”
Blush attacked her cheeks and she pushed you away with a noise of embarrassment. The words ‘we’re just friends’ tumbled out of her mouth faster than lightning.
The engine was warm and rumbling when you got inside. A water bottle rested in the cupholder closest to you along with a granola bar. Having spent a lot of time with Yunho, you grew accustomed to his silent checkups. It was his way of giving you comfort without putting it into words or asking aggravating questions that would have you exploding in his face.
“Ready?”
Singing, you clicked the seatbelt in place and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”
The idea of raiding a mall in central Seoul was suggested by one of the civilians in charge of the prison’s crops. With the years, the member count in Sector One gradually grew. You went from thirty people to fifty in a month and it nearly doubled until the next summer. The number was now close to one hundred and ten. Paracetamol and other medical supplies were starting to run short and it wasn’t such a problem until the stores nearby had all been cleared, one after another the shelves were emptied. It was then that the first meeting took place, followed by multiple others to make up the perfect plan on how, who and when.
What was supposed to be a mission of twenty people was cut down to two. Initially, you told Hongjoong to count you out. You weren’t comfortable with doing runs bigger than a local grocery store or gas station, besides, Hongjoong was bound to give you a pass. It was the least he could do, especially as you searched for resources almost weekly, even going out of your way to take up others' scheduled runs. When the time came to decide who the two (un)lucky participants would be, Yunho took the initiative and your choice to sit on the sidelines was forgotten as you raised your hand up and volunteered. It benefited everyone because, honestly speaking, no one really wanted to put their own life on the line.
The first step of the plan was to find a secure and easy access to the car if in need of a quick getaway. The amount of vehicles aimlessly left by the entrance of the mall clogged up the path. It was best to park the Jeep further away and Yunho contemplated whether to leave it on the road connecting the parking lot to the highway and as you weighed your options, it turned out that would be for the best. The handbrake was pulled up and in a previous life, he’d return to his car already towed away with a ticket waiting for him in his mailbox.
“You nervous?” Yunho asked as he strapped the high-quality vest provided by the prison to his body.
You huffed in reply and did the same. It wasn’t affordable to feel anything beside confidence and even too much of that could get you killed. The best emotion to describe you would be exhaustion. Tired of doing your utmost to survive day by day.
The thick texture of the vest was uncomfortable and quite tight all over, however, you’d rather wear it than take the chances of being bit. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore. I just… want to get the things we came for and go back.”
Yunho checked his gun, although everything was thoroughly looked at back in the base. A small walkie-talkie was attached to his right peck while yours was hanging on the waistband of your pants. It was a precaution if you were to lose each other in the mall or needed to contact Hongjoong back at the prison. Your hair was tied back with the purpose of not falling in your face during hectic situations, but also so it wouldn’t be easy to grab. You had heard too many stories of women dying because perpetrators used their hair against them, latching onto it when they least expected it, not to mention many of the high school fights you witnessed where girls weaved their fingers into each other’s roots, pulling until chunks of hair fell out.
“To be honest, I think I’d get more bored of guarding the post all day. I can’t fathom how Wooyoung does it. Like don’t the trees eventually bleed into each other?”
“Probably. Then again, it’s Wooyoung we’re talking about. He has a freakishly good eye when it comes to intruders so I wouldn’t be too worried, besides, Mingi and San are quick to follow up if he does miss anything. Although it’s highly unlikely.”
Yunho unrolled a map portraying the inside of the mall on the hood of the Wrangler as you brought two empty backpacks from the trunk.
“Remember the first step?”
“Technically, we’re already on step two.”
You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Smartass.”
The remark had his dimple popping out as a cheeky smile stretched across his face.
“So we enter through here.” He pointed at a makeup store. “It’s the only shop we can enter through the backdoor without gathering much attention and the pharmacy is on the same floor. We can look through the salon first and see if there’s useful stuff in there.”
“Like what? I doubt anyone wants cosmetics in a time like these.”
“No, but I’m pretty sure there’s like sunscreen, stuff for the hair and body, shaving things. You know, necessities.” Yunho folded the map back together and slipped it into the back pocket of his pants. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Nothing, I just…” You averted your gaze, but the amused smile was still here. “Didn’t know you were into cosmetics.”
The pink hue of roses didn’t attack his ears, but his contagious chuckle reached yours and a smug smirk crossed his face. “Yeah? I thought it was a given, like, I’m a sucker for blush if you haven't noticed.”
“Oh, shut up.” You shoved him and he flew sideways as if weighing nothing. Trust Yunho into over exaggerating and making the situation look worse than it was. You didn’t wait for him to catch up — not that it would take him long — and immediately headed for the backdoor entrance.
“This should be easy.” Yunho tied a black bandana around his mouth and nose to keep dust and bacteria from entering his system while you pulled up the neck tube gifted by Mingi a while back.
The two of you shared a look and as Yunho nodded, gun in hand and flashlight in the other, you worked the door open and let the darkness of the mall swallow you whole. The storage room was like any other. Full of boxes and crates, and even a few shopping carts containing various make-up products. The layers of thick clothes did little to hold your warmth against the freezing temperature of the storage. Words were exchanged through your eyes, neither taking the risk of alerting potential resting biters or raiders, and Yunho’s light flickered to life.
You sneaked around the space and took time clearing the area of threats. Confirm there wasn’t an unwanted presence with an urge to pierce your skin and feed on your insides, you could breathe a tad bit heavier and relax your rigid posture. Sweat coated your body and your pulse was loud in your ears. However many looting rounds you’d do, you’d never adjust to the adrenaline and fear that came with as a plus two.
A faint whistle traveled through the air and your head whizzed up to see Yunho standing by a door, presumably leading to the actual store. He called you over with a nudge of his head and you tightened the grip around your gun and knife. He put off his torch and raised a finger to his covered lips, and you nodded. Taking a step back and planting your feet wider apart to get a sturdier stance, you raised your gun and used your other arm to support it underneath. It wouldn’t be ideal to fire off bullets inside, but if it came down to it, you’d be left with no choice.
Yunho hugged the handle and held up three fingers — his hand big enough to hold the gun with just his thumb and pinky — and began counting down. With his fingers gone, he gently opened the door and you stuck your head out, coming face first with the register. A big table shielded your view of the complete store and you immediately dropped to a crouch and waddled out, Yunho following close behind. It was much brighter out there than in the storage room courtesy of the light coming from the corridor of the mall, most likely from the windows on the ceiling. As you moved to round the corner of the cashier register, Yunho roughly grabbed your shoulder and nearly sent you stumbling backwards. Throwing him a questioning glance, he pointed to his ear.
Moans and grunts in various tones vibrated through the building. Some were faint, barely there, and others were alarmingly loud. The weight of Yunho’s hand was still there and a soft squeeze of said man was enough to bring you back. He gave you all of three seconds to get your head out of your ass and follow his lead.
Yunho weaved between the aisles — still crouched down — and as you peeked around him, you quickly realized the make-up store was untouched. All the products were in their designated place and it was abnormally tidy inside. No blood coating the white tiled floor or decomposing corpses laying around. The only thing you could think of was that the workers quickly rolled down the sliding grilles before any of the infected could enter and made their escape through the back. The longer you stared at the shutters, the clearer it became how tilted it was. One side wasn’t completely flat with the ground, you presumed it had something to do with one of the cogs being stuck. If it came down to it, the barrier would only hold so long against a horde of biters.
“How are we getting through that?” You whispered and wiped your clammy palms off your pants.
Yunho plopped down on his rear and moved into a comfortable position; his legs were propped up, creating a triangle passageway, and his elbows came to rest on his knees. You were in a similar stance, but with one of your legs flat against the ground and hands on your stomach. The sides of your thighs touched, but neither were distraught by the display of (accidental) skinship. Stealing a glance, you nearly jumped out of your skin as he hastily turned toward you.
“Okay, I got an idea…”
You swallowed thickly and nodded.
“So… I think I could raise the bar high enough for us to squeeze out. You’d go first and keep it up until I pass. The thing is, we need to have an emergency exit if everything goes to shit and I don’t wanna take the risk of us having to pry it open again and getting caught.”
“Yeah, no, that sounds like a nightmare waiting to happen honestly… I’m thinking we can find something sturdy that will hold it for us and we can just slide through if we’re being chased.”
“Let’s hurry.”
You got up and quickly scanned the store for something useful, but all you could see were make-up products, perfume, brushes and other miniature things that weren't good for your issue. You needed something easy to move that wouldn’t make too much noise and cave in under pressure. Looking around, you lingered on the door you came from and everything lit up as if a lightbulb appeared over your head. A whistling tune cut through the store and Yunho’s head popped up from behind a rack, one of his brows raised and you waved him over.
“A shopping cart,” you murmured, a high tilt to your voice. “There are plenty in the storage room, they are easy to handle and won’t falter.”
The smile he showed you could easily be mistaken for his natural cheery persona and you convinced yourself it was just that. Yunho smiled at everyone, especially with those glistening eyes of his as if a brush coated in glitter went over them. You were the first to spring into action and it had nothing to do with the clump of nerves gathering in your abdomen from his soft gaze. It wasn’t the time nor place for confusing feelings, you thought as you grabbed the cart and pushed it out. Coming the closest you’d been to the grilles, you hid behind the trolley and looked through the small holes to assess the situation. Chaos was the first term to appear in your mind.
Broken glass shards littered the previously white tiled floor. It was currently covered in muddy water leaking from the roof, dried blood and weeds sprouting from between the cracks. Rotten meat and rusty metal lingered in the air and it was disgusting, you had never smelled anything like that before. These biters had been there for quite some time, judging by the lack of skin on their decaying bodies and bony figures. They hadn’t feasted in a while and that scared you. Shaking your head clear of such thoughts, you looked in the direction of the apothecary and deflated. A big island of trees, plants and bushes was the first thing you saw. The decorations stood tall and wild, spilling over the fence so you couldn’t see the pharmacy that was supposedly on the other side. The run from point A to B suddenly got overcomplicated.
How would you know if the apothecary was open? And if it was, how many infected were there inside? What if everything was already taken? Then the whole mission was a fail. A waste of time, a waste of gas, a waste of–
“Everything okay?”
You could feel the heat emanating from his body and the aroma of his detergent and pine needle-like scent as he got near. In fact, you could feel him too, where his chest pressed up against your back and his left hand weaved into the grid of the cart, wrist centimeters from touching the top of your head. His close presence was dizzying and attacked your senses at the worst possible time, but at least it overpowered the stench of death. Compelling yourself to get over his spell, you explained the situation and Yunho, ever the optimistic, pointed out the positives.
“At least it isn’t teeming with biters as we thought. Look.” He gestured to the biters. “They are just standing there like statues so we can easily sneak past, plus, we have a few hours until the sun sets, meaning?”
“They are slow as fuck.”
“Bingo. We should be fine as long as we don’t set off a chain reaction and wake the whole building. Otherwise, we’re pretty fucked.”
“It’s risky,” you stated the obvious.
“Everything is nowadays, but don’t worry your pretty little head about that because I’ve got a plan.”
He thought your head was pretty–
“We can use that forest thingy as cover. The bushes and leaves are big enough to cover us completely. I say we use that to check the situation and see where we go from there.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
“Which is?”
“I can use the bushes to check the situation and then call you over depending on the situation. Both of us shouldn’t throw ourselves out there. It’s dumb, what if it’s locked? It’d be a waste of energy.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.
“No, I just said I’d do it. Yunho, think about it. I’m quicker, harder to notice and there’s more things I can hide behind. You’re freakishly tall, where would you hide?”
He pondered for a moment and agreed in the end, but not before voicing his distaste for the idea. “I don’t like it when you’re right.”
“I don’t really care, just get the shutters would you?”
You positioned yourself behind the cart and watched as he rolled up the security shutters just enough for you to slip the metal hunk on wheels underneath. Still crouched down, you waited to see if the biters were drawn to the light clinking noises, but — much to your pleasure — it didn’t attract any. Before you could cross over to the danger zone, Yunho grabbed your bicep.
“Be careful,” he whispered tenderly, like talking to a distressed dog. His hand remained until you nodded, but even when he drew back, the warmth spread out through your chest to the very tips of your toes and lingered to what felt like an eternity.
It was pleasant. Safe. Yunho’s arms were safe, you concluded and wished to feel more of. Both his touch and the protection he provided.
“You too.”
You didn’t wait, wholeheartedly believing you’d stay back if you looked at his doleful expression for a second longer, and slid out. The biters were oblivious to your presence, but you weren’t about to abuse that privilege until it had run its final course. Like the existence of a ghost, you floated through the mall on your tippy toes, knife trembling in your tight hold and eyes frantically searching for trouble waiting to pounce out of nowhere. Considering you were always reaching for the short end of the stick or possessed more bad than good luck, it was no surprise you were constantly thinking five steps ahead. There was no need for that now though because you made it to the decorations without getting your knife bloodied. The greenery was bigger than what could be seen from the make-up store, a result of constant sunlight, water dripping out of a broken pipe and no one there to keep it tidy. You just hoped you were alone in the idea of hiding there.
The pharmacy was open to the public. You didn’t know whether to deem it a win or a loss. Easier access was always good, but that included everyone and a bigger chance of the place already being looted. Not much more thinking and strategizing had to be done though, and you immediately signaled Yunho over. The inside wasn’t completely trashed either. It wasn’t as neat as the make-up store, but from what you could see, there were still things that could be of use or it was your wishful thinking kicking in.
“This is good… right?” It was so quiet that you nearly missed it.
“It’s less of a hassle getting in, so I’d say so. Our best bet would be that one keeps watch while the other gathers as much shit as possible, unless we want an early date with death.���
“There’s a pet store behind us too, maybe we can pick something for Heart on our way back.”
“We’ll s–”
A growl was quick to shut you up. The sound sent unsettling vibrations down your spine and you snapped your lips together as a biter staggered right past you. Its sudden appearance reminded you to get your asses moving. Neither breathed until its figure was far, far away from you.
“Fuck…” Yunho exhaled. “Okay, you keep watch and I’ll look around, you know, see if there’s stuff on the higher shelves or something.”
He handed you one of the baseball-sized rocks strewn across the dirt on the island — the kind you’d find at the beach — and snagged one for himself too. In a previous life they were used to make things prettier for the eye, but now it was something you bashed rotten heads in with or threw across the room to distract the biters.
Of everything you've done so far, getting into the cursed pharmacy was by far the easiest and least nerve-wracking.
“Go, be quick!” You hissed and crouched behind a table closest to the entrance while Yunho zoomed past you, hastily unzipping his bag and filling it with things. You had half a mind to chastise him for the rattle of bottles and rustling sounds, but withheld. Your voice would reach farther than objects clashing in his backpack.
Your hyper-focus was glued to the front. You were nothing better than a dog waiting to attack, body stiff and on high alert. Adrenaline coursed your veins and it was hard keeping still, head jerking in every direction and your hand frozen around the hilt of your knife it sent tremors up your arm. Teetering on the edge of control, you struggled not to slash at the slightest of movements and sound. Yunho’s request for your empty bag breached your concentration and the breath you inhaled was like waking up in the middle of the night and clenching your thirst with the glass of water you set on the bedside table hours prior. It didn’t take long before the other backpack was filled too and the curse of being stupid not to bring a third fell from his lips.
“You got everything?”
“Not even close. Come over here.”
And like the good guard dog you were, you heeded his command, leaving the post unattended despite the turmoil in your abdomen.
“Put as much stuff as you can in your pockets. I won’t sleep at night if we leave all this behind.”
The amount of money worth of drugs you had in your pants right now was beyond your comprehension, but you knew the bidding between a local druggie and vitamin obsessed grandmother would be hectic. Glancing in Yunho’s direction, you did a double take at the blue tinfoil packages in his hands and grew hot from embarrassment. Your look was all it took for Yunho to defend himself.
“What? I doubt people want to reciprocate at this time.”
He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make you feel any better or stop the sensual image of Yunho. His naked body tangled in sheets looming over you and the very same condom you just saw in his hands, now stuck between his lips. Then you shook your head, as if to make the thought disappear before it could delve into an even more lustful scenario. The naked Yunho was gone, but the heat burned your cheeks worse than the sun on a summer day.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
If he noticed your flustered state, he didn’t mention it. With bags on your backs and weapons at the ready, you found yourselves in the bushes again.
“Don’t you think it’s weird?”
“What?”
Yunho scratched the spot behind his ear. “That everything is going… smoothly? Like it’s too easy?”
“What?” Your brows drew together. “Do you want it to be difficult?”
“Obviously not. I’m just… pointing out the obvious. It’s never been this easy.”
He had a way with words because not even a fraction of a second after, he jumped out of the bushes and evoked a high-pitched, squeaky noise that reached every nook and cranny of the mall. He breathed out a soft “fuck”, the tone dripping with disbelief. Beneath him, squished and still peeping the more Yunho raised his foot, was a blue, rubber pig. Its mouth pulled in an open smile and snout scrunched.
Fucking petstore. Fucking pig. Fucking Yunho.
You popped out of hiding, knife pulled out but violently trembling in your hold under the gaze of what felt like a thousand translucent eyes peering at your warm bodies. The one watching your life through a squared screen pressed pause on the remote and then when it was resumed, everything went to shit. The biters lunged for the first piece of meat they’d seen in months while you stood rooted to the ground, legs refusing to cooperate with your nervous system.
“Go, go, go! Fucking move!”
You did, in fact, not fucking move. You watched him drive his blade into the head of a biter, blood dripping everywhere as the rotten body slumped down and you fell with it, ass bruised and brain too scrambled to understand what was happening. You were going to die. You were never going to see Nari again. You going to turn into a–
Yunho was there in seconds to haul you off the ground, his hand grabbing the back of your shirt, shouting at you to run. “Are you deaf?! Go!”
It was the harsh push to your shoulder that finally got you moving. Slow and uncertain steps, but moving nonetheless thanks to Yunho barking orders behind you. One would think you had never stepped foot outside the prison walls, let alone gone on numerous resource runs. Everything between his push and you reaching the make-up store was a blur. The blood covering your knife and hands — along with the trail of corpses left behind you — being the only proof you had been involved in the massacre.
“I told you to get inside!”
You jumped as Yunho’s hand landed on your forearm, tugging you toward the store. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you counted over a hundred rotting heads. The shutters would only hold a dozen until it broke and they tore you apart.
Yunho watched the gears turn in your head and got a whiff of what you planned to do. “Don’t.”
The foreign depth in his voice did nothing to change your mind and he noticed it too, thus holding onto you until his fingers turned white and the veins of his hands protruded. You snapped out of the haze as another forceful tug bruised your arm. Determined to see your plan till the end, you used the element of surprise to your advantage and bore your teeth into his wrist, just enough for him to loosen his hold on you and give you the chance to step back. You ripped your bag off your shoulders and slung it at Yunho, who caught it with an ‘oomph’, successfully keeping him down on his rear for a few extra seconds. His raspy call of your name clawed at your heart. Something was eating you from the inside, but you ignored the wails of your soul and kicked the cart with all your might, allowing the shutters to fall with a bang. Your stubbornness wasn’t the sole thing to stand between the two of you anymore.
“What the fuck are you doing?!”
You paid little attention to the burning feeling in your chest and the flame dancing across his features. Leaving him there would hurt, but it would be hell to see him get ripped to shreds knowing he had a chance of surviving. Back at the prison, you only had one person to look out for while Yunho was a pillar for many. You couldn’t do that to them. To Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung… Heck, you couldn’t do it to yourself. Angry Yunho was a fleeting image. It would pass, but the Yunho with cheesing eyes and heart-shaped lips pulled in a joyous smile was forever engraved in your memory.
“It’s not going to hold,” you gestured to the stupid shutter. “Get home and make sure the stuff gets to Hongjoong.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving without you!”
“Tell Nari I love her–”
His fist slammed against the metal cover and for a moment you thought it would crumble beneath his touch. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re going to tell her yourself because we’re going back together!”
There was so much on your mind. What to say, what message to leave the others; apologies and closure or a last round of advice? What would Nari think? There was no doubt in mind she’d be heartbroken. You were the last piece of family she had left and it would be downright evil of you to make her lose another parental figure.
“I’ll find you. Outside, I’ll find you. I’m not dyi… “ Your throat tightened at the empty promise. You didn’t know if you said that to reassure him or yourself. “Ten minutes. If I’m not outside in ten minutes, you’ll leave. Yunho, promise me you’ll leave.”
If only you knew what you were doing to his poor soul. Asking him of the impossible. He could promise you anything you wanted—anything in this cursed world—and he’d hand it to you on a silver platter. Anything, but that. Leaving you behind was like signing his own death sentence. He’d be nothing, but the shell of a man. An empty, hollow, useless shell with the bitter taste of resentment for both your selfless and selfish sacrifice. Yunho knew agreeing to keep the promise would give you peace of mind, yet if anything happened to you, he’d be haunted by the memories of you until his very last breath.
Across from him, you waited as if time wasn’t about the most sacred thing you could have. A mix of concern and determination wedged in your beautiful features and Yunho knew he had to speak, although he didn’t want to because the words rolling off his dry tongue would be some kind of agreement to your request.
“Yunho, please.”
The burning fire in his eyes dimmed as a wave of tears washed over them. They looked magical, even when obscured by grief and longing for the one still alive. His bottom lip formed into a pout to keep from trembling just as his hands balled into fists for that same reason. The sand continued seeping out of the imaginary hourglass, no matter how much Yunho tried scooping it back inside, the universal clock wouldn’t stop ticking.
With great effort — his lips parted and the shaky breath released aimed straight at your heart as did the tears brimming his red eyes which were a reflection of your own — he nodded. “I promise… but don’t make me fulfill it.”
In another life, the vow would be exchanged in a happier setting, surrounded by friends and family. Vacant of gloomy clouds and death knocking at your door, and filled with belly laughter and tears of joy instead. A time where the promise of sacrifice was made out of love and not for survival.
“Yunho, I–”
The remaining seven letters died in your throat as cold and wrinkly fingers sank into your shoulder. Yunho watched you scramble from the touch, his heart pounding for your safety, and felt completely useless. He couldn’t breathe until your blade was driven into the side of the biter’s head and the creature landed with a thud, blood pooling at your feet. The growling worsened and you needed to get a move on if you ever planned on seeing another shift between the sun and moon.
“Come back to me, do you understand?”
Your eyes met for what could be the last time and you drank him in like he was a part of the seven wonders of the world. His messy charcoal strands falling over his equally dark brows, knitted together with a crease in the middle that you wanted to smooth out. Trailing down to his naturally puffy eyes reflecting a storm of emotions — thundering anger and heavy anguish — threatening to spill over with tears. Your throat tightened. You couldn’t bear seeing the pain you inflicted upon him and hastily followed the slope of his pretty nose, red as a ripe strawberry. A beautiful blush, probably stemming from his anger, kissed his round cheeks and spread to his ears. The need to reach out and touch him, caress him with reassurances that everything would be fine grew at the sight of his trembling lips.
The angel on your shoulder whispered for you to run. Another whisper — this time from the devil — tingled your ears with the statement to stay a little longer. You wanted to heed the little red fella, but what you wanted wasn’t what you needed, so with a final nod, you tore away from his painful gaze and willed yourself not to turn back around because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave.
With fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins and the promise of returning alive, you slipped on the mask of a soldier — putting a pause to the war in your head — and faced the army of the dead.
“Come get me, fucking assholes!”
Hungry groans and aggravated snarls echoed loudly around the mall, each vibration reaching your bones, but your loud whoops and hollers didn’t waver. Not even when one of the infected got dangerously close to you, its teeth making a loud chopping sound like a knife violently smashing against a cutting board. You grabbed a chunk of its hair, guiding the monster as close to your skin as possible without it getting to sink its teeth into your neck. You were done being the prey. It was time for a change of roles. The taunting click of your tongue colliding with the roof of your mouth launched into the open as you sinisterly smiled at the biter.
“Go to hell.”
The sharp point of your knife pierced the underside of its jaw until the whole blade could be seen through its open mouth. Your hand, covered in red and wrapped around the hilt, was flat against the jaw and continued pushing upward. The anger, hurt and worry mixed into a new emotion that took over all of your senses. Revenge. With a new force of purpose, you pushed and pushed until the lower half of its face and jawbone ripped from the body like pieces of fabric. There was so much blood, tissue, and muscle beneath. .
Bile crawled up your throat as the corpse stared at you with an open mouth, if you could even call it that considering the nose and jaw were somewhere on the floor. The sight wasn’t for the weak and you were anything but that, yet the amount of blood gushing down and coating both you and the biter would follow you into the grave. It was an exact replica of the oral cavity poster in your local dentist’s office; the tongue, uvula, and tonsils were all in their righteous place. You forced down what was once your breakfast and wiped the blood, or sweat, maybe both, off your face and let the body fall.
The next kills were faster and less gruesome. There were a bunch of them after all and if you did a little show of each and every one, you wouldn’t return home until late into the night. Throwing a quick glance at the cosmetics shop, you relaxed at the empty spot that was once occupied by Yunho. He listened. He kept his promise and now it was your turn. Running for a brief escape, you whipped out your gun — the magazine full and waiting to be used — as you climbed the escalator — taking two steps at a time — just enough to get some space between you and the human eaters. You had both hands on the firearm to keep it steady and fired in quick succession. The first shot was loud and foreign, and the hairs on your body stood up, but you kept hugging the trigger as if it were your one purpose in life. Your ears got used to the deafening crack of thunder after the third round.
You counted five, ten, fifteen, twenty shots before you slipped the hot gun back in your holster. Always keep one bullet for emergencies, you used to tell Nari. Going out with a bullet piercing your brain was less painful than being shredded to death was what you liked to think. A bonus point if you do it correctly; you don’t come back as one of them.
The number was still high and if you were to count, you’d reach at least somewhere up to fifty biters. You didn’t even want to think of those unintentionally hiding or stuck in a store. It didn’t matter though, because you weren’t leaving until every infected was put to rest. For that to happen, you needed to stay alive and from the rapid speed the biters were going up the stairs (one would think they’d lost all sense of coordination when their brains turned into purée), it didn’t look so bright for you.
“Fuck,” you whispered and continued up to the second floor.
It was significantly darker and vacant, but you didn’t want to take your chances of getting cornered in a random shop. Although killing your way out of the mall was taking a toll on your body and sanity, that was something you already lost. The second floor was a completely different world than what was going on downstairs. The windows were intact, not a single speck of blood coated the walls and everything was in its place. It was like the disease stopped spreading after coming in touch with the escalators. A glass railing went around the whole second floor, giving you a perfect view of the chaos downstairs. The height difference wasn’t too big and a jump down wouldn’t cause you any harm, unless you fell unexpectedly. That would be a different story.
Pushing that to the back of your head, you passed a hardware store with a bunch of crowbars set on a display outside. Grinning to yourself like a child on Christmas Eve, you grabbed one of the many crowbars and gave it a swing. It’d be far easier welding a long piece of metal than your four-inch knife. Plus, it wouldn’t just be used to smash the heads in on biters, but to pull shit apart. Like doors.
“I think I’ll call you Maneater.”
The rustle of clothes worked as an alert. Right on cue, an infected staggered out of the very same store you got Maneater from.
“And you’re going to be my guinea pig.”
The loud, sickening crunch of bones breaking was eerily loud as the curved end of the crowbar met with the side of the biter’s head. Now, the second floor was tainted with a splatter of brains, and blood and everything in between. It didn’t disturb you anymore. How could it when the majority of you was drenched in a rotten, red liquid?
Some of the biters that followed you from the first floor had finally caught up. Their spine shaking groans announced their arrival and you gave one more twirl to Maneater.
“I’ve always wanted to try out for the baseball team,” you admitted and swung it again. “But mom said sport wasn’t for girls.”
Another biter fell limply. Its skull cracked open and one eye squeezed out of the socket at collision with the metal rod. You grunted and raised it high above your head. “This is as close to baseball as I’ll get.”
Swinging it down, you screwed your eyes shut to keep the grime and blood from splashing into them. The feel of Maneater plunging into the meat of the biter didn’t vibrate up your arms, but the sharp inhale of air getting caught in your throat did as you were pushed off balance. Tripping over your own feet, you crashed into the delicate railing which broke at immediate contact. Shards descended like snow around you and shimmered like thousands of miniature diamonds. The crowbar slipped out of your hold as you tried grabbing the air for support, but in the end, all you could do was watch the ceiling of the mall shrink while your arms and legs flailed out of your control.
Time slowed down as the realization set in. You were going to die. You didn’t keep your end of the promise and Yunho would return alone.You wouldn’t be there to teach Nari how to use a gun.
As you were falling to your death, a bitter smile took over your lips. You really had no regrets. And it seemed that even with one foot in your grave, you couldn’t stop lying to yourself. There were no regrets when it came to Nari, that much was true. Everything you did was for her safety; the murders, the running, the fights, everything was for her. But what about you?
Did you have any regrets for yourself? The answer was simple and short, only needing five letters to spell it out. Three vowels and two consonants to be exact. Yunho.
A sharp prick seared through your shoulder followed by the ground kissing your back. The pain was unlike any before and you immediately felt yourself losing consciousness. Everything hurt. The sudden headache was worse than any hangover you experienced in your college days and your shoulder burned with the slightest of movements. Lying there unable to move, you fought diligently to stay awake, eventually succumbing to the tired voice lulling you to sleep with the whisper to just close your eyes.
The fog surrounding you was thick and cold to the touch. Wetness seeped into your clothes and hair, and droplets echoed around you, but you couldn’t see a water source anywhere. Just a black void, much like space, that seemed to go on forever.
“Hello?” Your voice traveled through the vast darkness and no reply came back.
You didn’t understand. Where were you? What was this place?
“Auntie… wake up.”
Your head jolted to where the sound came from and your body followed. It was distant, but you’d recognize that voice any time of the day.
“Nari?” You cupped your hands around your mouth. “Nari!?”
“Auntie!” Her childish giggles swirled around you, once coming from your left and then the right. You turned in every direction, but the little girl wasn’t with you.
“Where are you?!”
“You need to wake up.”
“What?”
“Wake up, auntie. They are coming.”
Your brows scrunched together as you tried making sense of her words. “Who is?”
“The monsters. They are coming for you… You need to wake up. Wake up!”
An invisible force with a presence so heavy ran through your body and threw you off your feet. A scream of sheer surprise and fright crawled out of your throat as you fell backwards, the faint presence of Nari standing before you — a dull expression painted on her features — as she did nothing to help you. It was unsettling. Landing in the water again with the darkness wrapping around you like a silk sheet, you woke up with a startle. You felt everything at once. The pain of the sharp object lodged in your shoulder blade and heat attacked your feet while your head was cool. Your throat was parched and hurt as you swallowed to soothe the itch, but it only made you taste dry blood.
Managing to turn your head sideways, you were greeted with a biter and the events from you didn’t know how long ago came surging back. It was the biter that caused all of this, lying face down beside you with parts of its body scattered all over the place. If the situation were different, you would’ve hung the fucker using its own intestines, but it wasn’t and all you could do was give it a glare and send your wish of it going to hell. Sluggishly slapping along your chest, you hoped to grasp the walkie-talkie that was supposed to be attached to you, but the little device wasn’t in its usual place and you cursed at your bad luck. Through your blurry vision, you could see shuffling further in the distance. The imaginary weight resting on your chest suddenly lifted and small gasps of air finally entered your lungs.
Muffled moans, something akin to being underwater, were the string pulling you back to reality. The eerie warning of your subconsciousness played in your mind. Grinding your teeth together, you mustered up little of the strength you had left and rolled over on your stomach. Your hands lay flat against the tile, the broken glass cutting into your skin as you lay in a pool of your own blood. Something shifted in your shoulder blade, and a cry of pain and desperation erupted from deep within.
“Fuck!”
Death would’ve been a better outcome than this.
Opening your eyes — that closed without you noticing — and blinking back tears, a laugh of disbelief almost slipped out at the object before you.
A blue piggy.
The blue piggy was staring at you. Its happy expression irked you beyond belief. It was all its fault. The biter and this stupid pig were to blame for everything. Your upper lip curled in a snark as you squeezed the living shit out of the toy and pushed to sit back up on your knees. Heart was getting a gift and you hoped to see the toy shred into pieces.
Commanding your body to stand up was harder than expected and your legs nearly gave out. The searing burn of agony spread like a wildfire all the way down to the tip of your toes. There was no point in trying to feel around as it would only hurt more with every twist and turn of your torso. The exit sign in the far back of the pet store flickered violently, as if it were trying to get your attention, and even though you didn't believe in miracles, you reconsidered your values then and there.
“It’s the only shop we can enter through the backdoor without gathering much attention and…”
Hours later and you still remembered his words. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice. The make-up store was a no-go and you didn’t have the energy to prance around and look for a safer exit. Who even knew how much time you had before your body would give out? The shuffling in the distance paired up with hungry grunts was getting louder, and with your condition, they’d reach you in no time. You had played it safe so far and received nothing but near-death experiences, what was one risk against ten precautions?
You bit into the material of your neck tube to stifle the cries made with each step. Staggering up to the emergency door, you leaned your forehead against the cool metal and jerked the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Of course.”
The one thing you saved for yourself had to be used on something else. Letting the almost empty gun rest in your hand, you stepped back and aimed the muzzle straight at the lock. You had to make this count. You inhaled, exhaled, and pulled the trigger. A loud blaring alarm sounded through the whole mall and you had no need nor obligation to linger around until every biter in a mile radius crowded the area. With the piggy in hand and your other gripping the side of your torso, you limped out of the cursed place.
The weather was dull and gray, but brighter than inside the shopping center and it took a while for you to adjust to the light. Heavy rain pelted from the sky yet, the reason behind your wet clothes wasn’t to be blamed on nature. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, a trail of bloodied footsteps followed you only to be washed away as if they never existed in the first place. Raindrops trickled down your red-smeared face, revealing streaks of your skin beneath. The freezing temperature sweeped over your body, cooling off your muscles and rewarding you with the possibility of a cold which didn’t sound too bad. Glancing up at the gloomy clouds, your hand came to shield your eyes from the rain slapping harshly at your cheeks. It was impossible to tell if the moisture on your cheeks came from tears or the rain.
Your ten minutes were up. Yunho was gone and the weather portrayed your inner turmoil. The emotions you suppressed while on survival mode hit you fast and hard. You were happy he stayed true to his words, but the little part deep in your heart, cried and trashed around, disappointed he didn’t wait for you. At least you were alive. Dirty and hurt, but alive.
The storm would clean you up by the time you got home anyway, if you didn’t die from hypothermia that was. With a weight on your chest, a knife carrying the deaths of many and the will to see your family again, you headed home.
You weren’t angry with Yunho. How could you when it was you who made him promise to leave? When it was you who threw yourself to the wolves, better yet, to the brain-eating corpses and — more or less — locked him in a shop with no way out besides the backdoor. If anything, he had every right to be angry with you.
What if you died in front of his eyes? Or got seriously hurt?
There was no coming back from that, you knew that much yourself. The memory of putting that poor boy out of his misery resurfaced every time your eyes shut. Every thump reminded you of striking his head with the butt of your knife. You still remembered driving that same blade deep through his stomach until your hand touched his shirt, a dog taking up the majority of his tee. It was the first time you felt actual blood. Not the three drops from a paper cut or a harmless sample, but the slimy and warm kind that came in buckets. It was everywhere too; your hands, your clothes, his bedding covered in happy dinosaurs and rainbows. Days passed until your hands returned to their natural hue, but the nightmares never ceased. It was quite funny. You had seen a lot of fucked up shit, but the least violent death was still looming over your head.
Bright yellow lights blinded you. Throwing up a hand to reduce the damage and get a better look at what was happening, you peered between your fingers and saw the shape of a car slowing down. You couldn't find it in you to run. Everything hurt everywhere and your muscles ached with as little as a breath. The emergency alarm hadn’t stopped and hoards of infected would turn up any minute. The rain — which you already thought was heavy — turned harsher and bounced off the pavements like small shining diamonds. The sound of the car door opening and slamming against the metal hunk followed by rushing footsteps frightened you into a defensive stance.
You were tired of death. You were so tired of killing things, but the universe didn’t seem to care as she continued sending you threat after threat. The rope wrapped around your emotions slowly slipped out of your grip. Its rough texture grated along the skin of your palms and frustrated tears coated your waterline. The sob — a wail of utter fatigue — that slipped out was smothered by the rain and ear-piercing siren. You really tried holding on, but you could only suppress your hectic emotions for so long until your hands went limp and everything came crashing down. A tear streaked down your cheek, followed by another and another.
The figure ran head first at you and as you waited for a hard impact to plummet you to the ground, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you instead. Clean clothes and wet trees filled your senses.
“I got you.”
“Yuhn–Yunho?” You sluggishly asked, making sure it wasn’t another trick of your mind.
“Yeah, Yunho’s got you, angel. I’m here.”
You buried your nose in his shoulder and inhaled his comforting scent. Shutting your eyes and curling your fingers in the fabric on his back, holding onto every piece of him for dear life. You released a shuddering breath. The shirt smelled like him and his body was very real beneath your fingertips. That alone proved your subconsciousness wasn’t deceiving you. This was Yunho. The real Yunho. Your Yunho.
“I’m going to pick you up now, alright darling?”
His arms were gentle just like his soul and he handled you with absolute care. It made you feel warm despite the weather only Zeus himself could inflict upon the world, and you were oh-so-tired. Your empty stomach wasn’t a match against your full heart as it was all you needed to fall asleep. The last noise entering your consciousness was Yunho’s frantic voice.
“Hey, hey, hey! Stay with me. Come on, just stay with me!”
Yunho stood his ground as you went limp in his hold and his face paled at what he saw. A shard — not shorter than his palm — protruded out of your shoulder, somehow managing to diagonally cut into your skin and avoid the bulletproof vest. Just your luck. He wasted no time scooping you up bridal style, as if you weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and thanked the heavens your head found his shoulder instead of lolling to the side in sync to his fast legs. His mechanic's heart hurt at leaving the engine running, but on second thought after feeling the warmth on his face, Yunho almost praised himself for his unintentional thinking. Despite that, he still stripped you off the first layer of clothing — cutting the shirt right in the middle — and decided to leave your tights on. The heat was as good as useless if you were completely wet. He maneuvered you to the side and covered you with the soft quilt he stored in the vehicle for emergencies like getting stuck in a storm or something.
The ride back home was done in silence minus the rapid patter of the rain and squelching of tires on asphalt. Much against his wishes, Yunho was plagued by the brief image of your bare torso, the black bra that left little to the imagination as well as his concern for your state. The glass was bloody and looked uncomfortably lodged in your shoulder blade. Shaking the beautiful and horrid image of you out of his head, he remembered why you passed out on him in the first place and the anger that disappeared at seeing you emerge from the mall resurfaced. A flurry of emotions swirled in his mind; concern, anger, sadness, relief… He couldn’t pinpoint if his heart beat erratically out of rage or desire.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Yunho sighed as your chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. As long as you were breathing everything would be fine. Going under a surgical blade in the hands of Jeong Yunho would do you no good, unless your insides consisted of automotive parts. Spoiler; they didn’t. Pressing his foot flat on the pedal, he broke a handful of traffic rules holding as much significance as the first man on the moon in this time of day.
The next time you opened your eyes wasn’t in the backseat of the familiar Jeep Wrangler, but in the medical wing which was technically just a room not much bigger than Hongjoog’s office, but illusioned to be smaller because of the multiple lined-up beds. Turning your head to the right, you stared confusedly at the IV bag connected to your arm. A sudden coldness swept over you and you instinctively pressed your free hand to your stomach, expecting to meet with a blanket and not goosebump-covered skin. Distraught, you glanced down. Your shirt was missing — that alone should’ve had you on high alert — and in its place was a gauze going around your chest and over your right shoulder. A delicate feel kissed your fingertips as you gently ghosted it over the bandages. The tenderness quickly changed into harsh bites stemming from your back and erupting all over like fireworks.
The mall. The Apothecary. The hoard of biters. Yunho. The piggy. Leaving Yunho. Man-eater. Falling. The rain. Finding Yunho. Safety. Darkness.
It was too much information at once and your back pain was accompanied by a headache growing rapidly. It didn’t help that your mouth was unbelievably dry. The IV-bag seemed to be doing an awful job of keeping you hydrated. Feeling sluggish, but determined to get answers, you freed yourself of bedrest and ventured out in the hallway. Yeosang turned the corner and stopped abruptly. His stoic face fell into an expression of utter panic seeing you out of bed. A chart of some kind and a pencil clattered to the ground as he crossed the distance between you, gentle hands cupping your arm and elbow.
“When did you wake up?”
And when you couldn’t form a response because of your dry throat, he immediately steered you back into the room with strict orders to stay and not move until he was to return. What he failed to mention was the ten-something people he’d bring along, all equally happy to see you awake, but some more furious than others. To his credit, they were forced to wait outside as you got the chance to drink water and change into something more comfortable. The excuse of you needing rest could only hold them off for so long until Wooyoung barged through the doors, an accusing finger finding you like a moth being drawn to a flame. The threats spilling out of his mouth faster than the shots of a machine gun were excused as a waterfall of tears sprung down his cheeks.
The words of malice came from a place of worry and love, and if you reciprocated that by masking your discomfort as he tightly hugged you — nearly opening the wound Yeosang diligently stitched together — no one had to know besides you. The reunion didn’t last long, all thanks to Yeosang’s strict orders that you needed a quiet recovery and Hongjoong’s authoritative voice backing him up. Being left alone with your thoughts was worse than having a group of chatterboxes asking you the same five questions every ten seconds. Because out of everyone there, out of everyone who came to see you, the two faces you searched for weren’t there and you didn’t know how to take that.
You expected it from Yunho. The radio silence and cold shoulder served as a punishment for your careless and considerate acts of heroism. Nari surprised you. More so the lack of her. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little. In other words, it hurt a tenfold of the stabbing pain coming from your shoulder. You missed her. A lot.
But like Yeosang said — hours after he came to drop off dinner and medicine — there was nothing you could do but wait her out, quite literally as you were trapped inside the makeshift hospital room. If it weren’t for his unmatched beauty and pleasantly calm demeanor, you would’ve sent him to hell a long time ago. Not only was he forcing pills down your throat and feeding you disgusting celery soup, now he was giving you unwanted advice concerning a child you raised since the stone age. Your agitation went up in smoke as the doors opened and a blur of black strands strode inside instead of Yeosang’s exasperating chestnut hair announcing dinner time in a sing-song voice.
Perhaps Nari missed you too and perhaps Yeosang was right, and perhaps you were imagining things as the girl stopped in front of your bed, both arms crossed over her chest and eyes cutting yours like she wanted you dead. Her sour frown left a bitter taste in your mouth. Soft taps filled the heavy silence and Heart — her true companion — sat down on his rear beside Nari. The blue piggy was caught between his teeth. It was good to know not all of your doing was in vain.
“You’re angry.”
The annoyed scoff and roll of her eyes was the second surprise.
“No, I’m so clearly happy.”
You heard the false chirp in her voice and scrunched the sheet in your hand to keep from snapping at her sudden bratty attitude. It’s justified, you told yourself and let her have her moment.
“I am so happy that the only person I care about nearly died. I am so happy my best friend sacrificed herself without a thought of what it may do to the people around her. I am so happy I almost became an orphan for the second time in my life! I am so happy, happy, happy!”
“Nari–”
“No! Ju–uh– just listen to me! Be quiet and let me speak!” She left no room for negotiation and snapped your mouth shut. The same shame of being reprimanded by your parents settled into your every bone.
“Just so you know, I’m only speaking to you because Yunho forced me to or he’d take away my Heart privileges…” She heaved in a breath of suffocating air and her voice cracked just as the next words separated your heart into two. “I’m so angry with you.”
Staring at Nari was like looking in a mirror. Your lips trembled and cheeks were wet from the salty tears slipping down to your chin and dropping on the pristine covers. You imagined your eyes to be red and irritated from the crying and it was a miracle you could produce more tears.
“I told you to be careful, right before you left. I said, be careful and you said, when am I not? Never! You’re never careful. I ask you to do one thing and you do the exact opposite. How come I have to act like the adult and you the kid? You’re the grown up, not me! I’m not supposed to see you bloody and barely breathing.”
“Nari, I’m sorry–”
“You don’t get to be sorry, okay?! A sorry won’t make things right again. What you did wasn’t fair. Not to me, not to you and definitely not to Yunho. Sacrificing yourself? For what? For who?”
“You,” you wanted to scream at her. Everything was about her. Everything you did was for her. For her chance of living longer, living better.
“Do you know how it felt to see you so, so, so… close to death? Don’t answer that, of course you don’t. I couldn’t breathe. I was in hysterics and it hurt. Everything fucking hurt. I thought I lost you. And I can’t get it out of my head; Yunho screaming and crying, carrying your lifeless body in his arms and that shit lodged in your back… It’s– You’re–”
“I’m alive. I’m breathing. I’m okay, we’re okay.”
“Except we’re not! You don’t get to do fucked up shit and just say, ‘Oh, we’re good’ when giving us a scare. Giving me a scare! Are you fucking dumb?”
“Hey, watch your mouth!”
“I will when you start acting like an adult. So do the adult thing and stop sacrificing yourself for others! I need you, okay? I don’t care about the others. I don’t even care about myself. I need you and only you.
“I– I don’t know what to say to make that go through your head. What? You want to hear about my parents? Do you think I remember my mom? My dad? You’re the closest thing to a family I have left. You are my mom and my dad. I can’t lose my family again. Please, don’t make me lose–”
Nari hid her face behind her hands and let the thundering sobs wreck through her body. Heart whined and nudged his snout against her thigh in consolation. It wasn’t enough. Nothing could be of comfort enough to erase the gut-wrenching image of your limp body or mend her inner wound. Not even when you got out of bed and guided her head into the crook of your neck did she feel better.
“I’m sorry, flower. So, so sorry.” You kissed the crown of her head. “You’re right. It wasn’t… I was in the wrong and I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Not just for you, but for me too, alright? You won’t ever have to worry about being the adult again… Can you forgive me?”
The little nod against your shoulder was delayed, but you didn’t care. You’d wait years if it meant her forgiveness.
The next time Yeosang came to check up on you — a tray of dinner in his hands — he silently backed out of the room as if never entering in the first place. On the hospital bed lay you and Nari, her nose hidden in the crook of your neck and a ticklish trail of air loomed across the exposed skin. Your chin nuzzled her forehead and your hands were light against her head. Nari’s arms were loosely stretched around your waist and would grow numb from the awkward position. Your legs wove into each other like a pretzel. The human-sized golden retriever was also there. His head a dead weight on your calf and the rest of his body pressed up against your back, tail tickling the exposed skin on your bicep. It was cramped and sweaty, but you wouldn’t change it, not even if the world went back to normal.
Disappointment. The bitter reaction of not getting what you expected and hoped for. If green was used to describe jealousy and yellow stood for happiness, then gray would be the color representing disappointment.
The reason for your disappointment? A man with brown hair, warm eyes and a laugh contagious enough to heal a wounded soul. Yunho didn’t visit you for the remaining time you were under Yeosang’s care. He came through stories told by the others, always hovering over whoever was your latest visitor and asking questions regarding your recovery, but never doing more than that. Never actually stepped foot inside the room. The week after you were discharged wasn’t any better. Hongjoong put you under strict orders to not go out on runs until you could move your arm without as much as flinching from pain and everyone walked around you on eggshells. As if you were a delicate piece of glass just waiting to break at the slightest inconvenience. At the news of your freedom, Yunho vanished into thin air. It was quite amusing how he was both the yellow you desperately wanted to see and the gray standing (figuratively) in your way.
The loud clanking against your cell diverted your attention from the cement ceiling to whoever felt the need to disturb your peace.
“He still hasn’t talked to you?” Wooyoung asked and sat down beside your feet, which you kindly shuffled more to the left.
“Talked? I haven’t seen him since I passed out in his arms. I don’t think talking is an option considering he’s a walking ghost.”
Wooyoung moved further up your bed. His back pressing up against the wall as his hands weaved together over his stomach. You laid your legs over his lap and breathed out a frustrated gust of air.
“I’d say give him time, but it has been, what? Two, three weeks since you got back. He’s just being petty at this point. Wasn’t it him who forced Nari to speak with you again?”
You nodded and Wooyoung huffed out a dry chuckle. “Very mature, Yunho… So what’s the plan?”
“There is no plan.”
“Oh, come on! You both can’t be self-deprecating, it’s only somewhat alright if one of you is being stupid, but both! Nuh-uh!” Wooyoung flopped beside you. His chin rested against the palms of his hands with his fingers squishing his cheeks and making them really pop.
“What do you want me to do, Woo? Yunho obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me. If you haven’t noticed, he’s avoiding me like the plague. The least I can do is stay out of his way if it means he’ll hang around everyone more. He was here before me, after all. His family before mine, no?”
“We both know that’s not true and if Yunho heard you speak like that, heck, if anyone heard you say shit like that they’d give you hell for it. You’re family as much as anyone else is, old as new members. So stop thinking like that… As for what you can do, how about you just, oh, I don’t know… Talk to him!”
You averted your gaze as the words wrapped around you like a hug. The rational part of your brain knew Wooyoung was right. That you weren’t intruding on anything. It was your family, your friends and your space as much as Yunho, Wooyoung and everyone else’s. However, the stubborn part of your brain feasted on your self-deprecating thoughts. It was why you didn’t fight Wooyoung on these matters because somewhere down the line of getting to know everyone, you realized Wooyoung wasn’t just a package of teasing and mischievous remarks. When he wanted to, he could say the things one needed to hear the most.
“We’ve already ruled that one out. The talking won’t happen until he wants it to.”
“Well, he’s acting like a loser, a really sore one at that.”
And as much as you wanted to agree with Wooyoung, to call Yunho a few mean words of your own, you couldn’t find it in you to voice those thoughts because they didn’t exist in the first place. All you saw was Yunho who took on the qualities of a golden retriever. The Yunho who would go up and beyond to turn a frown into a smile. The Yunho who would adopt every dog he came across and name them something sweet like Cheesecake or Muffin.
“I don’t care. Everyone has a right to process things in their own way, even Yunho.”
“I wish he didn’t. It’s dumb. Yes, you kind of messed up by putting yourself in danger and whatnot, but it wasn’t like you did it for shits and giggles! If it wasn’t you, then it’d be him. Trust me, I know that guy better than myself.”
You kicked Wooyoung’s thigh and sent him a teasing smile. “Yeah, because you’re always in everyone’s business but your own.”
The dramatic gasp filling the room was followed by your laugh.
“Do you want me to talk to him?” You knew Wooyoung only meant well, but his well wouldn’t bring anything good to the situation. Yunho wouldn’t give in and there’d be just one extra person involved in the war of cold shoulders and purposeful absences.
“Don’t bother. He’ll seek me out when he’s ready to hear what I have to say. I’ll just… lay low and give him space.”
“You do know you don’t have to sit here and hide all day, right? You can always come and hang out with me or San at the towers. Jongho could use some help in the weaponry, counting bullets and other boring shit if that’s more to your liking.”
“I know, Woo…”
As the silence took over, Wooyoung patted your calf and got up on his feet, simultaneously throwing a finger gun in your direction. “Well, duty calls. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
“Hey,” you called out after a second of contemplation and he arched a brow in question. “Thank you… Umm, for being there… For being my friend, I mean.”
“Brother would be more fitting. We’re way past being friends, but I get what you mean and don’t mention it. We’re family, that’s what family does.”
Damn Wooyoung and his heartfelt words. The tears made an appearance as soon as he disappeared behind the corner and you wiped them away, not up to explaining why you were crying if someone were to pop out of nowhere. For so long, Nari was the only person you could call family. She was your home, your rock and your will to move forward. Your new family expanded to a little more than a handful of people ready to help you in their own peculiar ways. Your home still didn’t take on the form of a place or a building, but another person. Someone who couldn’t stand in the same room as you for the time being.
Turning over, you buried your nose — much like Wooyoung did with others’ businesses — in the pillow and threw the thin blanket over your head. Sleep was a great activity to make time pass faster, something you discovered while being chained to the hospital bed in Yeosang’s unit. For what you didn’t know, it didn’t seem like Yunho would search you out in the near future and it was alright. You had plenty of time to think over what to say. Until the options became too many and you couldn’t decide which was the best one. Apologize and admit your mistakes or reason for your actions and die before you ask for forgiveness. It was like Wooyoung said, Yunho would have done the same thing if you hadn’t beaten him to it. Then what? Would you treat him with the same coldness he showed you or would you stick to him like the gum on school desks?
The question was constantly on your mind and you were at war with yourself. In this moment, you liked to believe you’d forgive him, but there was no saying you wouldn’t be absolutely furious with him either. It was better to sleep on it, you consoled yourself and you closed your eyes.
Your dreams were scary and although that wasn’t anything new, it was unsettling. Instead of reliving the day you took an innocent life, you watched the mall mission like a movie. The only difference was you never made it back alive. Everything was the same up until the fall, because the moment you landed on your back, you startled back to consciousness. Drenched in cold sweat and a concerningly fast beating heart, you’d use the first few seconds awake to take in your surroundings. To remind yourself you were very much alive and in the safety of your room. It had been your routine for, give or take, two weeks. Sleeping was both a blessing and a curse. Escaping one reality for another — arguably one of the worst coping strategies you could choose from — wasn't something you’d ever get used to, and if it was your way of punishing yourself for hurting Yunho so much that he couldn’t stand breathing the same air as you, then so be it. Wooyoung called it self-deprecating, you saw it more as reaping what you sowed.
The moon was halfway up in the sky when you awoke from your rather restless sleep. Swirls of purple, yellow and orange mixed beautifully on the baby blue canvas wrapping around the earth. It was Wooyoung who, once again, came to check on you with the news that Mingi and Yunho were back from their weekly hunt and had actually managed to bring something back. A stew of deer meat cooked over the fire outside and the whole prison stood in line waiting for their share of the food. You soon joined them with a bowl of your own.
“Next!”
You shuffled over, your gaze unfocused and glued to the ground as you handed over the bowl. When they still hadn’t taken it out of your hands, you looked up with furrowed brows and a questioning tilt in your eyes only for it to be replaced with pure chock. Yunho looked as pretty as the day you last saw him.
You were just staring at each other, both surprised by the sudden encounter that neither showed signs of sweeping the awkward tension under the rug and getting on with the day. The people around you grew irritated at the uphold, the hunger and standing in the cold weather getting to their heads, and you — wanting to get out of there as soon as possible — literally pushed the plastic bowl in his hands so that he was left with no choice but to pour the stew and watch you disappear somewhere far out of his reach. If Yunho wanted space then space was what he’d get, you thought as you spotted the familiar head of Yeosang sitting around a fire. Hauling your ass over there, you occupied the empty spot beside the self designated nurse. He was startled at your sudden appearance and took in your disheveled state.
“Why does it look like you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have?” Yeosang asked hesitantly and sipped on his water.
To put it bluntly, Yeosang was very observative and a great friend of Wooyoung. Whatever Wooyoung knew, Yeosang did too, including your and Yunho’s feud. Trying to stall for more time, you scooped up a mouthful of deer stew. What you didn’t take into account was that Yunho served it straight out of a boiling pot. It burned your tongue and all of your tastebuds. Acting on pain and panic to stop the fire in your mouth, you snatched the paper cup right beneath Yeosang’s nose and downed the whole thing. Yeosang, being an angel in disguise, gave you his second glass too.
“You want more?”
You shook your head and set down the stew, deciding it was better to let it cool off first.
“So… What happened?” He tried his luck again.
“What do you mean, ‘What happened’? I just burned my tongue off!”
“Not that, you idiot. I’m talking about you running here like your ass caught fire.”
The glare you scrutinized him with did nothing to change the topic, instead he challenged you with a quirk of his brow.
“I saw Yunho.” The words were barely audible.
“What did you say?”
You leaned over to land a punch on his shoulder, but missed with a narrow distance as he moved.
“Think of your stitches, think of your stitches!”
“Whatever…”
Yeosang sheepishly smiled. “I’m just messing with you. So you finally met the guy and… how was it?”
“Good, we were actually talking about the rising economy. How do you think it was?”
“Awkward, probably.”
“Bullseye. I ran away after.”
“I noticed.”
“You know, for being a nurse who’s supposed to have some therapy knowledge, you really do suck.”
“Thanks, I’ll jot that down for our future sessions.”
Your next punch wasn’t futile.
As the sun gradually descended and a darker quilt laid over the green earth, more people joined you around the fire. You saw Nari and Eunwoo share a blanket further away from the group, pointing toward the sky full of stars as their sweet giggles weaved through the talking voices of the adults. They did sit a little too close for your liking, but you let it be. She couldn’t experience the normal sneaking around with a boy phase and that would be the closest she’d get to it.
Some time between the laughter and conversations shared with Yeosang and the other people, Yunho was added to the mix. He sat right across from you between the broad shoulders belonging to Mingi and San. You didn’t utter a single word in his presence and moved in on yourself to appear smaller, an attempt at going unnoticed by him. He sipped on the whiskey bottle being passed around the circle while giving Seonghwa his full attention and you took the chance to stare at the side of his face. He was absolutely ethereal. The orange glow of the fire kissed his cheeks and his eyes were even warmer, more inviting.
He looked happy.
Your eyes went wide as he suddenly turned to you. The smile fitting him perfectly dimmed and was replaced by a neutral expression. You pictured yourself reflecting that same blankness. He was the first to break contact and the corners of his mouth went up again as he re-entered the previous conversation. You let out an anxious breath, wondering if you really brought him that much misery. An arm laid over the bridge of your shoulders, the palm attached cupped your bicep and pulled you toward them. Glancing up, you were met with the side profile of Wooyoung. You must’ve been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice him slipping in beside you. The faint, barely-there squeeze was him letting you know he bore witness to the wordless exchange between you and Yunho. The top of your head touched his neck and he nuzzled his cheek against your hair, soft puffs of air going over your strands. And while you were usually opposed to skinship, you let Wooyoung spoil you with it, not having the mental energy to push him away as well as you found it to be quite comforting.
“You alright?”
“It’ll pass. Just like it always has.”
Although Wooyoung wasn’t really in tune with what you were referring to, he still nodded and gave you another supportive squeeze. Sadness, grief and anguish. All the emotions belonging to the color blue would resurface every now and then. The last memory of your parents, failing your math tests in high school, breaking up with your first serious boyfriend… Those were all sad occurrences in life that left a scar in your heart, but were somewhat mended with the essence of time. Some took longer than others and some never really healed, but either way, they passed. The brief moments of blue passed. Thus, you were certain this thing with Yunho would pass too. The question of whether you’d remain friends or go back to strangers wasn’t something you wanted to entertain with the heat of the flames caressing your cold skin so you left it for the future you to mull over.
The warm meal and nice company completely drained everyone as they just sat and enjoyed the stillness of the night.
Hongjoong, always having everyone’s best in mind, clapped his hands together. “We should call it a night.”
Albeit everyone would rather stay out more and bask in the comforting atmosphere, Hongjoong’s words were law and no one wanted to disobey the law, not even in a raging apocalypse. You took it upon yourself to collect the quilts while someone else put out the fire or cleaned up the stray dishes. A bunch of knitted quilts were swung over your left arm and as you bent down to pick up another one, your knee buckled making you lose your footing and head into the blazing fire.
Yunho scooped you up, his arm circling around your waist and flinging you off the ground to face away from the fire. Your back was pressed to his front and the rapid pounding of your hearts synced. Yunho’s hot breath curling over your ears and the sudden close proximity sent your body into overdrive. The autumn wind was useless against your burning skin. Your chest deflated in disappointment as he let you down, not a word of worry or comfort leaving his lips. Desperate and tired, you swung around and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, stopping him in his fleeting movement.
“Yunho, wait!”
Perhaps it was the honey dripping of your plea or the soft and delicate touch of your skin (that he missed so much, but would never admit) or it was simply him being curious as to what you had to stay. Whatever the reason, Yunho did as told and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t come to regret it for the second time around. But now, with his eyes on you and his pretty lips pressed in a determined line, you forgot what you wanted to say.
Hearing Wooyoung’s half-hearted advice from that evening echo in your mind, you cleared your throat and–
“You know, if you wanted to talk you could’ve just done so. There’s no need to bring a third party into,” he gestured between you, “this.”
“What?”
“Wooyoung.”
You kept replaying his words in your mind, dissecting each term, putting them together and so forth until they lost their meaning and you were back to the start trying to figure out what he meant.
“What?”
“Nothing, forget I said anything.”
Seeing him roll his eyes and hear his tongue click the roof of his mouth was your breaking point. Smoke huffed out of your nostrils as you grabbed the blankets from the ground, marched in front of him and stopped him right in his tracks with a hand on his chest. It was one thing to ignore you for weeks, but it was a whole other pain to hear him say demeaning shit to your face.
“You don’t get to do that,” you furiously spat. “You don’t get to disappear and then tell me I should have just talked to you. Yunho, I couldn’t find you even if I turned the whole prison inside out! An– and– and Wooyoung?! What the hell?!”
Your emotions were a tangled mess that not even the most talented hairdresser could unknot. Hurt, sadness, anger, disbelief, everything bled into each other until you couldn’t put a name to them anymore.
“Listen here. I don’t know what you think you saw, but it’s not like that and even if it was, why the fuck do you care?”
Your question was met with silence, but a wave of fury swayed in his eyes and you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You expected to hear a lot of things the day either of you confronted each other, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that wild and disrespectful assumption.
“I wanted to apologize for my selfish actions back in the mall, but I don’t think I’m sorry at all… Actually, I’m sorry I wasted my blood on you. I’m sorry I sacrificed myself for a guy who can’t bring himself to check up on me while bedridden or– or that the first thing he says to me is that I’m making ‘moves’ on his friend, on his brother! From the bottom of my heart, Yunho, go fuck yourself.”
You threw the blankets at him and walked off. Your job there was done. You heeded Wooyoung's advice only to have it all blow up in your face, although you weren’t going to fault him for the loose mouth of Jeong Yunho. The roles reversed as your wrist was trapped between Yunho’s slender fingers and the roots of the grass twined around your ankles keeping you in place. The grip tightened as a result of you fighting back, yanking and shaking as if touched by something poisonous.
“Don’t… Don’t go,” he pleaded. “That was stupid of me. I didn’t mean it. I just…”
Lost my cool. Got jealous. Missed you.
“You just what?”
You spun around and a fuming swirl of wind slapped him in the face. The growl ripped out of you drilled shame and guilt into his bones, and although the angry load Yunho carried for weeks evened it out, he couldn’t feel his blood boiling without red tinting his ears.
“I’m talking to you now, am I not? Are you going to answer me or stand there doing nothing, because I really have no issue with going back to you forgetting about my existence. I know I sure won’t have a problem with it.”
“You think I forgot about your existence?” He asked in disbelief, a broken expression lacing his features. “It was the only thing I couldn’t do. I could blame you and think of you as selfish, stupid, reckless, immature, irrational, anything, but you were still there. You occupied my mind every hour of the day, every dream and every nightmare… And when I wasn’t busy…” Yunho paused, seemingly searching for the right word. “Blaming you, I was turning gray from worry. So no, I can’t go back to ‘forgetting about your existence’ because I never did nor could forget about you!”
“Then what was it? You were too busy worrying about me to take a quick peek in the hospital wing? You couldn’t put your hatred aside to ask Nari, Yeosang, Wooyoung or whoever the fuck about my well being? You think I’m going to believe you cared when you couldn’t even show it? That on our first encounter since a month ago you couldn’t even say something simple as ‘Hi’ without looking absolutely shell shocked at my presence. I haven’t forgotten about you my ass, your face told me everything I needed to know.”
“If I fucking forgot about you, would I be dying to do this?”
Yunho stepped forward, determined to show you just how wrong you were. The feel of his hands — large, warm and slightly callused — cupping your cheeks was unexpected. The yelp of surprise died in your throat as he forced your face up to his and slothed his lips against yours. They were as chapped as they usually looked, but soft and carrying a hint of chocolate and whiskey. Your own arms hung limp by your sides, eyes wide and heart thumping against your ribcage. There was nothing besides Yunho, no anger baiting you to clamp down on his lip or a spiral of sadness telling you to push him away. You were completely consumed by him. His scent, touch and taste. It was all just Yunho.
As you failed to respond, he slid his thumb over your cheek and drew back. Before he could get as much as a centimeter of air between your mouths, you latched onto his wrists and lifted your chin to properly meet his lips, and closed your eyes. It was the most beautiful and tender first kiss you had ever shared with anyone before. It was innocent and sweet, a bit rough as you pushed your heads as close to one another until you were on the brink of hurting. You poured your all into it and broke it off as the need for air somehow grew bigger than your need to feel him on you. Chests heaving and lungs burning from the oxygen shortage, you didn’t dare to look away, afraid either of you would disappear.
“I could never forget about you,” Yunho breathed out, his hands gliding down to adorn your neck like a 24-karat gold necklace. His thumbs found your pulse point while his pointer finger caressed your nape in a slow manner, treading lightly on the strand between teasing and adoring.
Words failed you in the moment you needed them the most and to add fuel to the fire, your internal thoughts were a jumbled mess of nothing. You kept replaying the feeling of Yunho’s lips on yours, the heat that prickled your mouth after and how you wanted nothing more than to do it over and over again.
“Please say something.”
Realizing Yunho was as far gone as you was the push of confidence you needed to fulfill your wish. Using more force than intended, you tangled your fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss with mouths smashing and teeth clicking together. It was a stark contrast to the first one; needy, searing and desperate to reciprocate Yunho’s cryptic confession. You took Yunho's bottom lip between yours and worshiped him as if your life depended on it. His hands trailed gently all over you; waist, hips, even daring to give squeezes to your ass. You didn’t know how long you stood there, exploring each other like horny teenagers, but by the time you parted for air — hair messy, lips swollen and glossy, eyes intense with a burning desire — everyone had escaped inside.
The fire was long extinguished, but you were still warm all over and a different kind of flame ignited inside of you, born in your core and pulsed harder each second you weren’t touched by Yunho. The scorching hot butterflies fluttered more violently as his thumb swatted over your bottom lip, spreading the spit — his or yours, it didn’t matter — more, but he stopped as the weight of the situation dawned on him. Jumping right into bed after the agonizingly long weeks of ignoring each other and brewing an irritation that could only be cured by talking didn’t sit right with him.
A pregnant pause filled the space between your spit-swapping action and the beginning of Yunho’s next words.
“I really need you to say something or I’ll go crazy. I don’t think you understand how much you mean to me, so please, say something. Anything.”
“I… You– uh…”
It was so much easier to act than to speak. Why must he torture you? Wasn’t the kiss enough? Didn’t he feel your desperation seeping into his bone and very being? What more did you have to say for him to get it through his head that you were honestly, truly, completely in love with him?
You grabbed his amusingly large hand and placed it on your chest, right over your beating heart. As if feeling Yunho’s touch, the thumps came stronger and quicker. The chance to explain yourself wouldn’t come at a better time than this.
“You mean everything to me, Yunho. That thing back there in the mall? I did it because…”
“Because what?” His whisper was delicate like a summer breeze filtering through your hair and swooshing the seam of your sundress.
“Because I didn’t want you to die. Fuck, I didn’t even care what would happen to me, I just needed you to be safe and– and–”
“What about me?” He interrupted. “Did you even think what it would be like for me if you wouldn’t have made it out of there alive? Watching you hobble out, bloodied and looking more dead than alive hurt like a blade through the heart. I thought I lost you…”
“You didn’t though. I came back. Barely, but I did come back… To be honest with you, I didn’t think I’d affect anyone with my passing. Nari is an exception, but that’s about it. You’ve known them for longer than I have and… I thought it would hurt less if I was the one to go and not you.”
Tears filled his eyes and grew red at the saltiness. Yunho pressed his palms against them and breathed irregularly. Through his soft sobbing, his words came out drenched with disbelief. “How could you say that?! How could you–”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“You can’t say sorry. That’s so fucked, why would you even think like that? Fuck, I felt like dying just looking at your limp body in my arms and you were the one on the verge of death, not me. Yet I couldn’t breathe until I got you to Yeosang.”
Yunho’s cries were loud and it was getting harder to understand him. You think you understood what he meant by feeling the pain of a blade through the heart. You closed the gap and circled your arms around him. He fell into you, his tears soaked through your shirt and his fingers almost tore holes into the material from how hard he was holding on. You rubbed soothing patterns into his back and patiently waited for his crying to subdue with a few reassuring pecks left along his shoulder and collarbone. When the silence was filled with his light sniffles and shuddering breaths, you continued from where you last left off.
��Is that why you didn’t come to visit?”
Yunho nodded and cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy and muffled from crying and being pressed against your skin.
“I did come. I stayed the whole time you were unconscious, I was right there. That chair might have fucked my back forever, but I vowed not to move until you were stable…”
“I didn’t know,” you lamely admitted.
“I’d kill them. I said, if word got out that I was there, they’d wish a biter got to them before me.”
You cradled Yunho’s face and firmly pried him out from the comfort of your shoulder and directed his focus to your eyes. A watery smile curled your lips as the threat sounded so foreign coming from him. The Yunho who wouldn’t dream of hurting a fly, and who the children adorned and pets seeked out for comfort. Then a snippet of your first encounter flashed before your eyes and you remembered it to be the same Yunho who didn’t think twice when putting a bullet through the head of your perpetrator. Suddenly, the threat sounded more promising.
Yunho grew shy at the intense eye contact and enveloped your hands in his. He ran his thumbs over your knuckles in various patterns to divert the attention elsewhere, a coy trick to easier say what was on his mind without having your beautiful eyes dissecting him for his thoughts.
“I wasn’t angry then either. For those two weeks I felt nothing but fear for your life and it wasn’t until you came back that I let everything wash over me. That’s why I didn’t come after. Because I was so angry with you, but I need you to know I never, never, hated you… There’s another thing too, but it’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” you demanded.
It took a while. He managed to circle a couple of figure eights on the brass skin of your hands before revealing the embarrassing secret that tugged at his heart every night prior to falling asleep.
“You got hurt because you were trying to protect me so I thought, if I wasn’t there– if I wasn’t in your life anymore, you wouldn’t have the need to put yourself at risk for me ever again.”
“You’re so stupid, Yunho. That would never work. You could literally hate me, wish me dead–” You ignored the glare he sent you, “But it wouldn’t matter because I’d do it again, over and over again if it meant you’d be alright.”
Yunho deeply sighed. Your words made him hot and he was trying hard to ignore the heat fluttering inside of him. “Don't say stuff like that, it makes me want to kiss you.”
Always putting others' needs before yours was the path you molded for yourself and reaching for what you wanted wasn’t something that came naturally. But as the stars cheered you on with their soft twinkles of encouragement, you did the unimaginable and connected your souls for the third time that evening. The hour long nights spent talking about one another with the moon as your only witness paid off as she lovingly gazed down on your beautiful rendezvous.
“I guess there’s going to be a lot of kissing then,” you breathed out and moved a few stray hairs out of his eyes.
Since the outbreak started, you never once entertained the idea of finding a romantic connection. Your main focus was providing Nari with a safe future ensuring her a life where she could at least live past the age of thirty. Even if it meant sacrificing a few things. You didn’t realize how miserable you were until you crossed through the gates of Sector One. There was only so much you and Nari could do to quelch each other’s needs. Your start at the new camp was rocky. It was tough, yet you broke through everyone’s prejudice and showed them you weren’t just a suicidal bastard, but a woman with interests and feelings like everyone else. The apocalypse hadn’t erased the person you were before, it just took soft spoken words, gentle touches and a whole lot of understanding for you to come out of hiding.
In the meantime, you’d patiently wait. Maybe the world wouldn’t ever return to what it once was and maybe it would only go further down hill from there, but standing in front of Yunho as his eyes darted all over your face — the challenge of trying to figure out what part of you he wanted to admire the most was impossible to solve — melted away those worries. As long as you were surrounded by people keeping the flame of survival alive, you’d be fine.
© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.
#[🐶] HONGJOONGSPOETRY#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho#jeong yunho oneshot#jeong yunho angst#jeong yunho smut#yunho x reader#ateez x reader#ateez#ateez oneshot#ateez fanfic#ateez angst#ateez smut#zombie au#zombie apocalypse#apocalypse au#horror#romance#hurt/comfort#kpop x reader
326 notes
·
View notes